Second Sighted

It felt right. His lips on hers, her hands on him. Nothing had ever seemed so good before.

She breathed in deeply. She could smell him on her. Cigarettes, alcohol, his past. Nothing mattered but that she had him, with her.on her...in her.

He was kissing her skin. Every cold kiss brought a tremble and a renewed need inside. It was desperate, it clung.

His hands felt her body and she pressed towards him.

She cried out his name and whimpered when he did not say those three words that tore at her every time he voiced his feelings.

"Tell me, tell me how much you love me!" she cried to no one in the room. "Agh! Oh yes!"

"Buffy! He yelled then a praise of her name. “Buffy."

"Yes!" she growled at him softly.

"Hey! Buffy!"

"Please, Spike. Say it to me. I know you do, but...just tell me." Buffy thrashed in her sleep at the non-existent form in her bed.

"BUFFY!!"

"Huh?" Buffy bolted awake to see her sister's eyes staring into hers. "Who? What?"

Dawn decided not to mention her mentioning...well, him. "You were having a dream,
Buffy," she innocently replied. "Looked like you were, um, fighting someone." And she played the dumb little sister with perfection.

~~`~~

He had been standing across the street for nearly an hour. Spike's new bad habit. Watch the Slayer's room until he barely made it home before daylight.

He lifted the almost empty pack of smokes to his mouth and shook one up out of the soft-pack. It had been an interesting night. First the story on the late night news, "Two bodies found in an abandoned warehouse, both burned beyond recognition." He had watched just long enough to get the address, then he was off to meet her.

For almost two months this had been his strategy: find a good kill, help her figure out how to slay whatever did it.

This one was most likely a spell. That whole ‘spontaneous combustion’ thing usually was.

The only exception he knew of in his 120 plus years of unlife was the visit from Sweet, also known as "The Scary Music Curse" by the Niblet.

Buffy had already been and gone by the time he got to the scene, but he decided he might as well see the site that she had. At least he could compare notes. It might even start a conversation, he thought to himself with a smile.

In the center of the first floor of the old building were two scorch marks, both in human form. He crouched and smelled the air. There had been at least one human, possibly some demon involvement. But the circle drawn around the two dark shadows of burnt out fire was a dead giveaway for magic as well. Whomever it was, they were gone now.

"Red will want to hear about the--" he stopped himself short, remembering the witch was no longer the witch. "Maybe Tara?" he thought to himself.

He took one final look around, made a few mental notes, and left to go stand by what he had decided was the best tree with the most shadow, and yet still gave him a clear view across the street.

He gazed at the unlit window. She was obviously asleep. A gentle pull in his groin let him know it had been too long since their last encounter. God, he wanted her. Always. A small growl came from deep within his throat as he imagined a not so long ago perfect moment with Buffy.

Suddenly the light came on. He looked through the window. Dawn was there. She sat on the bed and shook violently. He knew, even though he could not see the bed, that Dawn must be shaking the slumbering Slayer from a dream. "Must be a bad 'un to wake Dawn. That child can sleep through anything," he said to himself as he remembered the previous summer.

The dark haired younger Summers stood, said something about the dream, and turned the light off while closing the door to Buffy's room.

"Got to love the bloody Vamp vision. It's the bleedin' lip reading I can't get," he scolded himself. He may have missed what the dream was about. "The Dream!" he spoke aloud.
Something in the Slayer had scared her into screaming...making noise. He had heard a small muffled sound, but he was too far and there were too many walls in the house for him to have any idea what the wailing had been about. So he stared on, into the dark room.

Buffy waited until she heard her sister's door shut then she stood from her bed. She walked to the window and stared at the starry sky.

There she was, he could see her. She was deep in thought as she stared out her window to the night.

"Pink PJ's, luv? I need to take this girl out for some "naughty wear" shoppin'." He laughed at his own comment and looked into her face. Her lips were moving. Her gaze was shifting.

"Where are you?" she said to herself. Every night for almost two months these dreams had come. So far they had been private and kind of fun. This time she had woken Dawnie because of a dreamy pleasure. "Nope, not doing this anymore." She declared.

As she stared at the stars, she calmed herself and felt a presence.

"Definitely Spike," she thought. She had been standing and staring straight up and ahead.

Her body moved, turning to her left. "Almost," she said to herself.

Spike was scared that she was going to see him. Then he remembered that Slayers, while having 20/20 or better vision, can't see in the dark any better than your average Joe. He crouched a bit lower, and slithered behind the tree, but never enough to lose sight of "his girl."

"Very close," she spoke, and her gut pulled a bit more. "C'mon, where are you? Oh..." her eyes dropped inch by inch until...

"Average Joe, my ass!!" he whispered to himself. "She's staring right bloody at me!"

Her lips suddenly repeated over and over--

She smiled at herself slightly and repeated the words "I need to get some sleep, Spike" five times. Then she walked back to her bed, fell onto it, and crashed.

He watched her words. "Spike! She said my name!" He kept staring at her. "'Sleep, Spike.' She wants me to get some sleep?"

"I need to get some sleep, Spike." He muttered the words after seeing them the fifth time.

"Oh, right then," and he walked away, silently questioning how she, even being the Slayer and all, could tell He was there.

Sure, all the Slayers could mildly sense a Vamp a good distance from her, but to sense which Vamp...a good 40 meters away?

This thought lingered, but he knew already from previous experience that Buffy was no ordinary Slayer. "Damn gifted," he muttered, and thought of his favorite "gifts" as he walked home to his crypt, grinning all the way.

Spike was almost home and with plenty of time to spare. "No, really, how did she know?!" he yelled at all of the headstones that had no answer. "This makes no sense," he finally admitted to himself.

"I really, really hate This Town!!" As he screamed these words he saw a package sitting plainly in view on the stoop of his home.

"What's this I see? A special present for little ol' me?" He walked cautiously to it and peered at the inscription. For William, the NOT SO BLOODY.

"Oh, Ha fuckin' Ha!" he yelled.

He stepped back. Most any demon after him now wanted currency of some kind. Blowing him up wouldn't get them their pay. He stepped back and let himself sense his surroundings. Alone, most definitely alone.

He leaned in once again, gathering all that his senses could tell him about the small package in front of his only refuge. "Don't smell holy water," he said, "No explosives," which could be messy, but not deadly.

He snagged the box and tore it open. "Maybe it's from Buffy?"

After destroying the paper wrapping, he lifted the lid to expose a piece of paper. He curiously read the words. It was an address, and below the address was the word "AKOSHTA."

Need for Knowledge

After Buffy walked Dawn to school the next morning, she headed for the shop to workout and try to relieve some nervous tension. The idea that Spike was able to hurt her and that she allowed him to touch her still weighed heavily on her mind. She looked at the cloudless blue sky and sighed, pouting.

Before rounding the last corner she spied Tara walking towards her and immediately lit up. "Hey Tara!" she yelled, trying to get the shy wiccan to look up from the book she was trying to read while walking. The blonde head raised.

"H-hi Buffy," she started with a slight smile. "Are you going to the shop?"

"Yep, need to do the workout thing this morning." Buffy eyed the book and asked, "Is that another Slayer book, or a witchy one?" knowing that Tara had still been looking into other reasons Spike could hurt her.

Tara firmly believed that Spike could hit Buffy because of the molecular changes during the fallen Slayer's resurrection, but she also knew that Buffy could not accept that answer. It was not the fact he could hurt her that bothered her so much, it was the way she felt about him. "It's a witchy one," she answered. "But I think that some of the spells in here might be good references. Some are similar to the one Willow used, t- to...uh." She tried to continue looking at her feet.

They paused at the door of the Magic Box and Buffy looked softly at the mild girl. "It's ok Tara, you can say it." She smiled to her devoted friend. "Bring me back," she finished.

"Yeah," Tara paused, "some of them use a few of the same incantations, refer to deities, etceteras, etceteras."

Tara eyed Buffy's face for a moment and a thought occurred to her. "Hey, Buffy, this may sound way off base, but did you ever think of trying to find out if this has ever happened before?"

"I think Spike is the only escaped 'chip head-" she began, but was cut off.

"No, Buffy. I mean, has there ever been a Slayer who was in love with a Vampire?" Tara quickly spilled.

The Slayer rolled her eyes. "Yeah, me"

"No, I don't mean Angel and you. I mean another Slayer and a whole 'nother vampire."

She finished her sentence and thought. "That sounded a lot better in my head."

Buffy stood still for a moment then turned and quickly went into the store making a beeline for the phone. In moments she was speaking to one of The Council representatives.

"I don't believe I am 'asking' you anything!" she retorted to the argumentative voice coming through the receiver. She continued "I am 'telling' you point blank. I want any diaries you have, that we don't, about every Slayer that ever had a diary written about her." She stopped, thought a moment, "and I want them here in 24 hours!" She really enjoyed the last part.

She knew three things for sure:

Buffy is the only Slayer they have currently that will even come close to listening to them.
Because of this, they had complied with every single one of her demands to date.
And last, and most importantly, she could have funny pictures in her head all day about those uppity Council people running around for the next several hours trying to pack and ship what had to be hundreds of books, while trying to figure out why she wanted them.

Tara and Anya looked from Buffy to each other and back to Buffy over and over again,

Anya having no clue what was going on, Tara having a pretty darn good idea.

"Why does she need all of the diaries?" Anya asked, dreading the research that she knew she would have to do. "Why does she seem angry about the diaries?" She watched the Slayer's face go from a lovely gold hue to an unattractive red one. "Did someone make her mad? Should we call for a vengeance demon? Halfrek is still here, I'm sure."

Tara interrupted Anya's ramblings "No, Anya. She's had a few questions about her calling, her afterlife, all things Slay-ie. I guess she decided the best way to get the answers she needs is to go to the source of all information Slay-ie." ''Yeah, that's a good explanation'," she thought to herself.

~~`~~

IN LA

Angel came down the steps with his son cradled in his arms.

It had been a sad few days. He missed her and hated the thought of Cordy...and him. He scowled at his thoughts, then tried to shake the feeling.

Fred looked towards Wesley and they shared a knowing glance while watching Angel hold his son. Fred hopped up from her seat and headed in the direction of the Vampire just as he descended the last few steps.

"'Morning, Angel." She turned to the baby and squealed, "Good morning, Connor!" and reached out to receive the baby.

Angel gently transferred the cooing infant to her waiting arms.

"So, Wes.any... " he paused, "any calls?"

"No. I'm afraid it's been another rather slow morning."

"Oh." He really could use something to do.

No visions could warn him of impending danger, so they relied on gossip, books, and phone calls. As of yet, the phone had rung twice.

The first, yesterday, was some guy who had dialed the wrong number. The other was a guy who wanted to know if they had a resident witch. They didn't, so he hung up.

Just then the door opened and Gunn strode in. "Any Nasties?" A room full of shaking heads told him today would be like yesterday. He looked over at Fred holding the baby and continued towards her.
She smiled, he smiled, and Wes began looking up something very important stuck to the ceiling.

The man trained to be a Watcher started reading through some texts Giles had recently sent him. The books were stacked in order of interest.

The first stack had impending prophesies that may come to pass. The next was only one book, filled with rare spells. This one had come from Willow's collection, but apparently she no longer had use for it. Another stack had rare demons. Yet another contained some Watchers' diaries, not of the Slayer, but personal diaries of a particular Watcher.

Wes pushed the book aside and picked up a sheet of paper, then reread the handwritten
note for the fourth time

Wesley,

In these boxes you will find some information that I need some help deciphering. This is not to be discussed with any of the council, nor Angel, Buffy, or the groups. It is of the utmost importance this remain between you and I or all could be lost for the people we have both come to know as family...

cont.

...and both will be called to undergo a test. If they do not each pass, they die. If they pass, they shall both receive a gift. I believe from these writings that the two called will be...

cont.

...and these books are the keys. I have one other in my possession that I may be sending to...

cont.

...do call if you find more information.
With Respect,
Giles

He had opened the boxes two days ago, immediately after reading the letter. He had not stopped checking Giles' research for the entire two days and was exhausted. Wes took off his glasses and rubbed his swollen eyes. He stood and said, "I need to sleep." No one argued with him. "Please, no one disturb my research, it's quite important."

The Host came down the steps. "Take my room. I just changed the sheets. They're April fresh.'"

Wes nodded mutely and headed to the demon's room.

The Fang Gang's horned friend stared after him. ''Some heavy thought in that head lately," He thought to himself.

He walked over to Angel and noticed his far away gaze directed to towards the entrance.

"What's up, big guy?"

"Someone's at the door." Angel answered.

Everyone in the room looked over at the door. Maybe something interesting they could do. Some new problem to be solved, a wrong to be righted, a helpless to be helped.

They stared at the door...nothing happened.

Angel began to approach the door, then stopped. He turned to Gunn, "Sun's too high, can't open the door. You mind?"

"No problem," the Demon Hunter replied, and quickly crossed the room to open the door.

Gunn peered out, took a few steps forward, and almost fell on his face, tripping over the feather light, plainly wrapped brown package at his feet.
The young man caught himself just before he completed his fall and straightened himself up. "Guess it's not just dangerous for Vamps out here," he said, laughing at himself, noticing the group trying to hide their chuckles.

He shook his head at the moment of clumsiness while picking up the package and walking it to Angel. "Here ya go."

Angel eyed it, smiled just a bit, while unwrapping his unexpected present. It had simply said, "Angel," no address or postage mark. "Someone must have dropped it off," then wondered if that 'someone' was what he had felt at the door.

''Cordy?'' he thought hopefully.

He lifted the box top and read the word "Akoshta" aloud. He read the address and quickly announced he'd be leaving at dusk. Fred asked questions, "Where? Why?" She waited for an answer.

"It's a test, and I have to go" he answered shortly.

The group volunteered to stay at the hotel for baby-sitting duty, and he thanked them all.

He had errands to run before he could go. Supplies to be acquired. He left to take to the sewers, his mind dizzy with thought and needed preparations.

Slayer of Slayers

Spike's DeSoto slowed as he passed through the little town, all dusty and lived in. A few old timers were sitting on the porch of the small town shop.

The young Master Vampire pulled up to the side of the worn building. It was well shaded in the late morning. His duster pulled up around his neck, he leapt up the un-staired side of the porch and faked a smile at the old men rocking.

"'Ello, mates." He ducked into the town's convenience store, and walked to the back, following his senses.

The man behind the butcher's counter was about 55 years old. Grey hair, spectacles with wire frames and a bit of weight put on from a happy, simple life. "Hey there, gov. You happen to have any pig's blood, even cow's blood?"

The old man eyed the young man. Blonde, that dyed stuff. Some youngster wanting to play a prank and decided to come here to get the supplies. He smiled and shook his head ''Kids. Same dumb jokes, different generations." "You want it by the pint or bucket?"

Today just happened to be one of the days they slaughtered some healthy hogs. It was usually tomorrow, Thursday.

After collecting some blood, a cooler full of ice, and directions to the address, which he was told was an abandoned campsite in the desert, and a head full of old stories of the haunted area, he was ready to continue on.

Spike completed his shopping with a container of shoe-polish, ''Better safe than sorry." He jumped into his car and took off. He arrived, saw no one else, and began throwing the situation around in his mind.

"Akoshta." He spoke it aloud for the first time since he had read the note, and remembered.

~~`~~

"What's a Slayer?" Spike had asked his grand-sire after barely escaping the mob.

The explanation came...fight, talk, punch ,yell. More questions.

Dru had told him nothing. Of course not, she was insane. He smiled at himself. ''And I loved her for it.'' Dru had been his reason for continuing his un- life.

Angelus told him a lot that night. The Slayer was his favorite legend. His second was Akoshta. A test and a gift. An ''Ultimate Gift,'' if you went by the literal translation known to the Vampires.

"Some stories are just children's tales to keep the fledglings at bay," Angelus continued his teachings, "But I have heard too many tales of Slayers, and I believe she is out there.

"Akoshta cannot be directly translated, but it means 'Ultimate Gift.' The Master told Darla, and he is the only one I have ever known that met someone who could pass the tests. The first to do so, if I remember correctly. Some demon who had married and lost her husbands to death 5 times over. At the same time, her sister had had equal luck with her husbands. They had cursed at the PTBs and were called to work with them."

Angelus had paused, trying to remember the accounts Darla had given him. "They simply wanted a rewarding relationship that would allow them to feel happy? " he asked, as he turned to his sire for confirmation.

"Sounds ridiculous to me, too, but I don't believe The Master would embellish, not about the PTBs," Darla quipped.

"The sisters now control many fates that involve 'The Two,' one being 'Akoshta'."

~~`~~

Spike recalled the evening as he stared at the obviously un-used campsite. The wood hadn't been burned here for decades.

The sun was finally beginning its descent, and his mind wandered, and remembered.

~~`~~

New York, 1943

She had been called in 1938. In the 5 years of Slaying she had been to 10 countries, and was never in one for more than 3 months.

She had been trained to be a Slayer since the age of three, when her mother, a gifted practitioner of telekinesis, was told by the gypsy that had trained her to control her gift, that her first born would be a Slayer.

Her family had immigrated from Russia to the United States, and she was turned over to her Watcher only two years after she had begun to say Momma.

She had been visited often by her mother, and educated by the Watcher.

The difficulties between several countries foretold the Watcher that a great war was impending, and a war between humans always meant chaos with the demons who walked the earth.

The Council had warned her at the age of 14 that her duties as a Slayer would be needed where the fighting was at its worst, and believed she would be "called" on her 18th birthday. She was trained intensively, learned five languages. Her imagination was encouraged by her Watcher. He thought that someday it could save her.

Many ‘somedays’ had come and gone. It had been an amazingly busy five years slaying. Too many prophesies, too many deaths...finally, she had nothing but life to look towards. She was free.

~~`~~

He knew he was close to his prey. He could smell the power in her blood wafting through the air. He had tasted a power like that once. It had been intoxicating.

New York was beautiful at night, he had decided. The ships had been launching for days. She was among the passengers.

The Second World War was raging, but with more countries joining to fight the good fight, there was a hope in the air that had been missing for too many years. The Vampire knew he had less and less time to find her as the hope rose.

Finally he had found the trophy for all of his waiting and hard work.

He slowly made his way through the crowd and looked into the back of her head. The crowd was thick with awaiting passengers.

When he finally made his way to standing directly behind her, he stood still. She was clad in a dark blue skirt suit with a light brown coat to help protect her from the cold night air.
The woman, about 5'6'', slender, with black hair, was staring ahead at her future. There was one thing she had to take care of first.

The woman turned to face him.

She looked at him. From his well-shined shoes all the way up his black tailored suit, to his short-cut brown hair.

A playful smile curved her lips. Three days had passed since her 'Ultimate Wish' had been granted, and this was the sixth demonic figure to try to threaten her.

So far, no one could move past their threats of pain, blood, and death. They had tried to lunge, but none could attack.

She spoke quietly, "You do not want to do this." She eyed him and explained her reaction.

She took a moment to take in his crystal blue eyes, high cheek bones. "I have received Akoshta."

The Vampire stopped his steps at her words. He looked once again at the woman. She was about 23, he guessed. Old for a Slayer. He brought his face to a mild smirk.

"What was your gift?"

'British' she thought to herself.

She looked not at him, but into him, "For another to be called so my love and I could live out what would have been our 'natural' lives.

Spike looked on, and into her. "You mean if you had not been 'called'?"

'Natural?' If the PTBs interfered in a woman's life, it wasn't generally looked at as natural.
Realizing the only reason he had even come after the human was because of her calling, he understood. He would not be able to kill her. He would not have traveled such lengths for an average woman.

"Yes," she stated simply, and breathed in as though out of boredom at the explanations.
"You are not the first to find me. In the last three days, six different demons, including yourself, have tried to kill me. The problem seems to be that as soon as they move in for the kill, they freeze." She tried to defend her uninterested attitude towards the Vampire.

Spike eyed the now-retired Slayer.

He felt respect, she had survived. He smiled.

Wars, he knew, were filled with some of the most demonic activity. The demons loved humans fighting. Easy prey. Always distracted by the 'real world' war.

This war was beginning to turn, though. More of the freedom fighters were gaining ground. The Evil and Fear were starting to pull back into the Earth day by day.

He gazed into her eyes once more.

"Long life to you, Slayer." He nodded slightly in reverence, turned and walked away.

She turned also, and walked towards the ship headed for England. Awaiting her in London was her Love.

Her Watcher had also granted her long life. A life with love, and all that a young woman her age should be allowed to expect. She enjoyed the moment.

From now on her life would be completely different.

She smiled all the way to England.

History Lesson

After Buffy hung up the phone with the now very flustered Council, she went to speak with Tara privately in the workout area.

Anya watched them curiously, but then figured that they knew she would rather help people give her currency for goods, and smiled at her friends as they walked away. "How considerate," she spoke to herself.

Buffy looked at Tara. "Ok, first we need to gather up all the books we have on Slayers, Watchers, Vampires, the rules of each of them...or codes they follow?" she took a breath trying to figure out the right word to describe what she wanted first.

"I think I know what you mean, like "How To Be A Vampire Without Really Trying," she giggled. "No problem, I'll get on it."

"I'll find "Slaying For Dummies," Buffy laughed back, and relaxed a bit. She didn't know she had tensed up so much, but too much thinking was never good.

"Fire bad, tree pretty."

"Huh?" Tara asked curiously.

"It's pretty much all I know sometimes...Ya' know? Fire is bad and a tree is pretty."

"Oh, ok," Tara said, still not quite getting it.

The girls scrambled through all of the things Giles had left behind, things a Slayer should have on hand for reference. Buffy went into the office and started walking back and forth to the research table with piles of books.

Tara had gone up to the loft area. This area held a lot of the rarer books.

After Buffy's fourth trip to the table, she went up with Tara, knowing there would be twice as many upstairs.

The rest of the day went by quickly as they settled into 'research mode.' The ladies had decided to use a simple system.

Anything even mildly relevant was to be written down and book marked. Relevant had to do with anything involving a Slayer and a Vampire having an alliance, a friendship, a relationship of any sort. This included spells that could cause love in a Vampire, anything involving mind control, loss of one's will, curses, hexes. This was Tara's department mostly, but Buffy had been around magic enough to recognize a good incantation when she read one.

Anya did her part as well. She sold as much merchandise as she could and didn't ask a single question.

A little after 3 P.M., Dawn walked in and saw both her sister and Tara buried up to their armpits, literally, in books.

"Oh, God. Now what? Am I a key again or something?"

"Huh? Wh-what?" both women answered.

"Oh, no, Dawnie. This is, well, personal research," Buffy answered.

"Personal, huh? Like what?"

"Dawn, if I told you it wouldn't be personal."

"Jeez, I thought we were gonna 'share' now. Nope. Back to 'Dawn is too young' and 'Dawn won't understand'."

The young teen dropped her purse and books on the table near the research area and flopped into a chair while continuing her tantrum. "Next thing ya know, I'll be eating dinner alone every night."

Buffy looked up from her leather bound book and Dawn continued once more. "Unless I invite Spike over for a bite." and followed that with a giggle.

"Dawn!! That is so not funny." Buffy was red and had to take a moment to calm down.

"Relax, Buffy, I might invite him over to eat, or keep me company, but even if he wanted to bite me, which he doesn't, he couldn't." Dawn tried to explain, disturbed by her sister's sudden anger.

"I-I know, it's just, well, Spike is...he's not really...but"

"He's not the best influence in your life is all, Dawn." Tara tried to finish for Buffy. "We know he's not going to bite you, but sometimes those stories of his are not for kids' ears."
She looked inside herself a moment and finished with, "Not for grown-up ears, either, now that I think about it."

Anya had been listening to the mild argument. "I like the one about how he met a Slayer in New York in the '40s."

Slowly Tara and Buffy looked over at the ex-demon.

"Anya," Buffy said, "Spike only killed two Slayers. One during The Boxer Rebellion and one in...wasn't it '77, 1977?" she spoke while looking for a SPIKE diary.

"Where's Spike's Diary at?" Buffy asked no one in particular.

"Spike has a diary?" Both Anya and Tara spoke this time.

"Yeah," Dawn and Buffy both responded.

Buffy bore into her sister's eyes.

"How do you know about the diary?" Buffy asked.

With all eyes on her, Dawn finally answered. "I saw it?" She looked at her Slayer Sis and hoped she wouldn't decide to ground her for a month.

Just then Willow walked in and she eyed the entire group. Dawn was scared, Anya was curious, Buffy was angry and Tara, 'yay Tara's here!', was bewildered.

"Is it another baddie?" The red head finally asked.

No one had even heard her come in and Tara looked her over and then down back at her books. ''She looks like she's doing well...she looks good...she looks 'yay!'."

"Willow!" Buffy's face brightened at her best friend, who was soon followed by Xander.

He also eyed the books with concern and a bit of fear creeping into his skin. "I know I will be sorry for asking this, but...What's up?" he asked while trying to fake a smile.

Anya ran to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek while wrapping her arm around him and saying, "Buffy is doing something personal with her books and needs Spike's diary."

"Huh?" Xander replied, looking confused.

"Don't worry, Xander, just some," she looked at Tara quickly, "some Slay-ie questions I have. I think the way I'll get the answers I need is to look for them myself."

"Ok, let's get crackin'," Xander replied while walking towards the stacks of books that almost completely covered the table's surface.

Buffy halted him. "No, I mean 'myself'."

Then he looked over at Tara.

"Tara is helping me with any magic stuff I don't get, which pretty is much...all of it," Buffy finished.

Willow quickly began apologizing for not being able to help.

"It's fine, Wills. Even though you had a lot of knowledge and power practicing, I think Tara would be better with this particular kind of stuff, with her practically raised on it and all." She smiled at her friend, hoping this explanation took some of the pain from Willow's eyes. It did, a bit.

Willow walked over to one of the unoccupied seats at Dawn's table, trying to pretend she wasn’t hurt, and help the littlest Summers with any homework she didn't 'get'. This was one of the new rules instated after Dawn's 'accidental' wish. Willow helped her every Tuesday and Thursday after school. "Oh, and Buffy, the diary for Spike is behind the desk in the office in a secret cubby in the wall," Willow revealed.

Xander and Anya walked back over to the counter, quietly going over a few wedding plans.

Dawn looked up. "How did you know?"

Buffy answered, "How did you?" looking straight at her sister.

"I...I kind of, found it." she smiled nervously.

"Found it? You went snooping." It was a statement, not a question.

Dawn didn't answer. Buffy stood and walked into the office. She pulled the old wood desk away from the wall and looked at what seemed to be a very small door. There was a lock on it. "Willow, you wouldn't happen to have a key, would ya?"

"No, sorry, Buff."

''Ok, not a problem.'' With that, she tore the 2'x2' door open and saw a file folder box with a book on top. She hefted it out, box and all, and carried it to what was the last space left on the table. Everyone was a bit curious, and she welcomed them over. There was no reason she could think of that this part of her research couldn't be shared. They knew everything about Spike's past anyway.

"Anya, what was the story Spike told you, what year?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, it was '40...no, '43. Yeah, 1943."

Buffy ruffled through the diary's pages. "I don't remember many entries in here during the '40's." She flipped through it some more. Nothing, three different entries, but no Slayer story.

"So, what was the tale he told?" Buffy asked again.

"It's very romantic," she began and was immediately interrupted by Xander.

"Romantic?! What did he do, turn some woman while he was...EW!" he was visibly sickened...and then not so much.

"So, what did he do?" Xander asked again.

"Well," she began again, "He had been tracking this Slayer for almost two years," she was interrupted again, this time by Buffy's laughter.

"Two years? Big 'ol bad Spikey...I thought he was supposed to be good at tracking down Slayers?" she said while trying to get her giggling under control, which is hard to do when everyone else is laughing too.

"Hey! Interrupting is rude, he told me so." Anya yelled while pointing at her fiancé, "And Xander, quit laughing!" she brashly spoke.

"I'm sorry An...go ahead," Xander said apologetically.

Anya paused a moment longer to make sure she had everyone's undivided attention.

"Ok...so, he was hunting down this Slayer, but every time he caught up with where she was supposed to be, she had moved again. This happened eight times in two years, and he was about to go nuts." She paused and told the room, "See, this was WWII and a lot of nasties happen during a war. I can't tell you how many women were calling me to bring vengeance on their husbands, boyfriends, lovers. Mostly because they had cheated on them during a 'tour of duty,' usually not wanting them dead, just hurt really bad." She realized she had gone off her point.

"Well, this particular Slayer apparently knew that where war went, demons like to play, and she had to be out there. The Council had to send her all over the world."

"Hmm, maybe I could call them and politely request a trip to China. I think it would be fun to take a stroll on that wall," Buffy quipped.

"Somehow I think they just might do it, Buffster," Xander laughed while answering.
Buffy giggled, then asked Anya to continue.

Anya was getting miffed by the interruptions, but these were her friends and they would ultimately appreciate the story so she went on. "He apparently caught up with her in NY, close to the turn of the war. She was getting ready to board a ship headed for England. I remember, Spike said he'd planned to try to snatch her ticket and visit home. He and Dru were apparently having 'alone time'."

"So, he went right up to her...she was an amazing beauty from they way he talked about her."

Buffy started to feel angry, but wouldn't let herself realize why.

"She must have been really in tune to her 'Slayer senses', because Spike said he didn't make a sound. He watched her back and when he was right behind her she just turned around and smiled at him. No stake, no cross...nothing."

"I guess she didn't read "Slaying for Dummies"," Buffy whispered under her breath.

Tara muffled a laugh.

"Then she simply said to him, 'You don't want to do this'," Anya repeated Spike's words.

"And that works? All this time I've been staking Vamps, but now I know all I have to do is tell them they don't want to do this. Which by the way, I know for a fact, doesn't work." Buffy finished with, "Sorry, Anya, I had to say something to that one."

Anya's lips twisted into a slight grimace, then softened. "I thought it was weird too when he first told me, but then I understood why."

"Why?" Dawn asked.

"I was just getting to it, this is the romantic part," and she winked at her fiancé.

"Ok, so...Spike tried to be sneaky, it didn't work. When he asked her what made her think he didn't want to, she gave him a very good reason," dramatic pause, "Akoshta," and she awaited the question of the 'gift' from her friends, knowing full well they had to know what 'Akoshta' meant.

"What's an Oshkosh?" Buffy finally asked.

"Not Oshkosh. Akoshta. You mean you've never heard of 'Akoshta'?"

All heads around her shaking, she tried to explain, "The PTBs sometimes reward heroes, champions, whatever you call them with an Ultimate Gift. There are Two women whose tests must be passed, prophesies are usually involved, but mostly it's like a one-wish Genie. The trick with Akoshta is it's always done in pairs."

"But you just said one wish?" Willow asked.

"A pair of people, not wishes. See this Slayer had gone from one end of the earth to the other to fight demons. She must have done an amazing job, Akoshta is not your everyday reward. The point being, someone was called at the same time as her, and was tested. For that to happen there had to have been a deep connection between her and whoever it was."

This time it was Tara. "Didn't Spike tell you who the other person was?"

Anya had given up on telling this with no questions when she discovered they had no idea what she was talking about.

"First of all Tara, it might not have been a 'person' like you think. A lot of different species have champions. Second of all, she never told Spike, so he couldn't tell me."

Buffy asked next, "So what was the woman's wish?"

"How did Spike put it...'That another would be called so she and her love could live out their 'natural' lives together'."

"Wow, that's almost poetic," Willow interjected.

"I thought so, too," Anya replied.
Tara thought to herself for a moment. "Anya, is that A-K-O-S-H-T-A?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It might help with the research, you know, since it happened to a Slayer."

But that wasn't quite the reason. On the note pad she had the words "Akoshta, test, 1943, pair, connection." Something made too much sense here, and she hoped it might help Buffy if she found out what. It had to do with 'natural lives.' Something about 'our natural lives' seemed off.

Dawn wondered, "Anya, how old was the Slayer?"

"I think Spike said early 20's. Why?"

Dawn didn't reply, but she looked over to her sister who suddenly understood her little sister's question, and its meaning.

"She might still be alive," Buffy answered.

Without a name for the Slayer Spike did not kill, and after searching the dates of all of the diaries, Tara and Buffy went back to researching Tara's original query: 'Has a Slayer ever had a relationship with a Vampire?'

Willow and Dawn soon left for home, and Buffy said not to expect her home for dinner.

Dawn had wanted to protest, but she knew something was really bothering Buffy. She needed to figure something out. So she smiled to her older sister and wished her luck.

Xander kissed his love and headed home, letting her know dinner would be ready when she got there.

The hours passed and soon Tara and Buffy had some information to compare. Anya had closed the store and reminded them to lock up if and/or when they left. She also wished the Slayer luck as she strolled out the door.

The two remaining ladies compared their findings, but there wasn't much.

A Slayer had let one Vampire go after he had saved her from a demon that the Vampire had wanted dead. He had no reason for letting her go, yet he didn't even try to fight her, just walked away. Even stranger, she had not given chase.

Another account was described by a Watcher as "an undeniably equal battle." In this case a Vampire and a Slayer fought almost every night, but neither was the victor. Then one night she simply didn't see the Vampire, or the next night, or the next.

All of the entries that had been marked started with a fight, and then one of the fighters would either disappear, or simply turn tail and run, but the Slayer in question never went to find the Vampire to finish the hunt and her kill. The Vampires in question always seemed to react the same way, not even trying to feed for the sake of bloodlust.

That was another thing, always a 'he' Vamp. Another one of those 'relevant' things. They never said anything about feelings, or a relationship...just one of the two running off.
Buffy looked at the clock and stood up. "Tara, will you be ok here for about an hour. I need to go patrol."

"Sure, Buffy, but if you run into Spike, and you want to take longer than an hour..." she let her sentence run off while smiling at her friend.

"Not happening, especially with the things we are looking up. Nope, if I see him, the only thing that will happen is me asking more questions about the un-killable Slayer."

And with that she turned, making sure Tara locked the door behind her.

The Second

Spike awoke to a darkened sky and listened to his car door creak as he opened it and stepped out into the night.

"No one's 'ere yet?" he said to the cool air.

He scanned his surroundings. 'Middle of nowhere' would have been a perfect description.

Sand in every direction. A spectacular view of the stars. No city lights to muck it up.

These are the stars he remembered as a human, before city lights were commonplace, when he would visit the country. Angelus had always commented on his all too clear memories of 'life', but they were there nonetheless.

He went back into his car to check the clock. Ten P.M. The vampire reached across his seat and pulled the cooler to a more convenient spot. Deciding it was supper time, he plucked out one pint of blood held in the same kind of container the Sunnydale butchers used, pulled the top off, and drank. Cold blood was never good, but at least it dulled the hunger.

As he finished the last few drops, he saw headlights coming towards him. "Pretty far away still," he spoke to himself.

The peroxide blonde replaced the top on his now empty container of blood and set it in the cooler. "Can't have 'old blood smell' in the car," he said while closing the cooler's lid, and shut the car door. He then hopped up to sit on the hood, lit a smoke, and waited.

~~`~~

Angel had thousands of questions running through his head after leaving the Hyperion. All he wanted to do was pass. He wanted to pass every test they threw at him. Then he could be human again.

The possibility of who "The Second" was had been obvious. Buffy. Who else had a connection with him like her that was still alive, or alive again?

Cordy?

He was driving as fast as he possibly could when he saw something in the distance reflecting the beam of his headlights. As he pulled closer and closer to his destination, a growl of disgust and confusion came up from his throat.

"Spike!!"

The second car pulled to halt at a 'T' angle with Spike's parked car. The beams were turned off, then the engine.

Spike stared as Angel's head came into view as the elder Vampire stepped from his vehicle. Angel shut the door and stood beside his car while staring down the younger Vampire.

"I shoulda bloody well figured. Of course!" Spike said slightly sarcastically, but more happily at the sight of his grand-sire then one might have expected. He hadn't really considered "The Second." He wanted his wish and that had been his only thought. If anyone had to be there, Angel would not have been his first choice, but somehow it seemed fitting.

"Spike? Why you? And why are you happy to see me?"

"Why? 'Cuz, you're a hell of a bloke. Even if ya are a poofter."

Angel just stared on, dumbfounded. "Is Buffy with you? I smell her, where is she?"

"No, I didn't tell her. Thought I could surprise her."

"Surprise her? With what?" 'And what the hell is going on?' his mind kept repeating.

Spike thought about it for a bit. "So she can see I won't 'urt 'er or her scoobies, even without the chip."

Angel was confused. "What chip?"

"The bleedin' chip those Initiative wankers stuck in my 'ead. They think I'm evil?! Well what do ya call it when they make it bloody impossible for a Vamp to kill? I can't even take a swing at someone without my head feelin' like I got a...a spike poundin' through my skull." He laughed at the irony.

Angel soon smiled, one thing on his mind. 'I could kill him quick then."

"'Ey, don't be eyeing me like that, mate. I can still 'urt demons, and that includes Vamps."

Angel just kept staring at his grand-childe. Brand new questions were now running through his head.

'Her scent.'

Those added to the thousands he had running through his head on the way here. He was now getting a migraine.

"I don't get it, where is Buffy? Why are you here?"

Spike finally understood Angel's confusion. "You thought she would be 'The Second,' didn't you?" He watched Angel nod his head in confirmation. "Well mate, the box was on me stoop, and the address led me 'ere." He paused a moment.

Angel cut the silence. "So, if you can only kill demons, then what...I mean who have you..."

'Her scent. It's on him.'

Angel started again, remembering Spike's need for Buffy to see he was 'good.' "What does Buffy's opinion matter to you?" he finally asked bluntly.

"I love 'er," Spike answered just as plainly.

"What! Are you kidding?? A chip is one thing, but I can't see even your inability to kill a Slayer driving you to love her. Besides, you haven't got a chance. Buffy could never fall for-"

"A Vampire?" Spike finished.

No more was said for a long while. Then the older Vamp asked, "Does she love you?"

"Couldn't tell you for sure. Pretty sure she does, but for some reason she just don't want to admit it to 'erself, me, her friends. Bugger, I'm a hell of a guy! I'd be proud to be slee--" he shut his mouth and thought to himself, 'Too much information.'

Suddenly Angel's subconscious caught up with his brain. "I can smell her...on you!"

"Yeah, well, patrolling and what not. It's bound to happen." Spike tried to explain, suddenly nervous.

It was the duster, and Spike knew it. He bathed like a human did, which few Vamps felt a need to do. His clothes were clean. It was because of that first night, in the fallen house. His duster had been their bed and their blanket.

"It's not her perfume I smell, Spike. It's her...her..."

Angel's face broke into his demon and he lunged at Spike.

Spike's demon did the same as he took up a defensive stance. "Bloody He-"

A glow of green surrounded and froze Angel and Spike in time, just inches away from each other.

One flicker of the light, and all that was left were two cars, sitting without owners in the middle of the cool, dark dessert.


IN LA

Wesley slowly climbed down the steps to the hotel's lobby. He yawned and stretched while walking back to his office desk. He looked around the room. Lorne was rocking the baby to sleep behind the front desk. Fred and Gunn sat together in the lobby looking through some books.

"Was Angel called off on assignment?" he asked anyone who would answer.

The whole room looked up, and The Host answered with one word, "Akoshta."

Wesley nearly fell over with the buckling of his knees, but caught himself by leaning on his desk. He was visibly white and scared. After gravity was no longer a threat and he was seated at his desk, he picked up the receiver and dialed Giles' cell phone.

Giles had been spending most of the previous day trying to help the Council collect the books Buffy would want.

He was very glad he had been made aware of Buffy's request. He had been waiting for it for nearly five years, and was even more elated that he was able to slip the extra package into the boxes before they were shipped.

Now any questions she needed the answers to would be in the crates, no matter how much the damned Council wanted to hide it.

He had lied, of course. The Diary of the Slayer had not been lost. The Council in all their idiocy just thought it a random Slayer Diary, and counted it as a sad loss. The prophecies and spells had been catalogued long ago, little else seemed important to them.

To The Council, a Slayer is not a person, with an actual life, but a vessel for a fight.

This Slayer was different. She had too many fights, and too many changes no one knew of. The Council in general were all too old, and had lost the interest to read of fallen Slayers.

The Watcher thought to himself as he silently regarded the circumstances that had occurred which prompted him to find the Diary.

That day after the peroxide Vampire had found Buffy at The Bronze. He spent hours reading over all the Watcher and Slayer Diaries, and finally found a reference that always meant trouble. 'See the diary of Master Vampire Spike'. It was the term Master Vampire that had disturbed him at the time. Masters were never good news. Luckily, the blue eyes and cheekbones and accent had been described along with the name in a Watcher and corresponding Slayer Diary. Spike was the name, only the hair changed.

The entries told him little of Spike's fighting habits, just that he respected the PTBs. He would not fight the Slayer because he understood Akoshta.

A ringing phone jolted him from his memory.

"Hello, this is Rupert."

"Hello, Wesley."

"He is?"

"Akoshta, are you sure?" He slid his glasses from his face.

"Yes, I will most likely be getting a call from Buffy before tomorrow's end."

"Yes, and keep me apprised."

"Of course I will. Thank you."

"You, too."

~~`~~

Buffy returned from her uneventful patrol. She knocked on the door and spoke assurances through it, letting Tara know it was her returning.

She asked if Tara had found anything interesting.

"I think I found at least two interesting things."

"Really?" Buffy asked, excited.

"Yeah, well, after you left I thought I'd see what was in the box." Tara motioned over to the file-box that had also been in the hiding place of Spike's diary. "There were a lot of extra files on Spike, Angel, Dracula, Darla and Drusilla. I only looked through Angel's and Spike's though."

Tara took a calming breath, unsure how the Slayer would react. "Buffy, I think there is a prophecy about them, and you." Tara took in the Slayer's reaction, she didn‘t seem to be freaking out so the young witch continued, "I'm not sure, but I think they going to be tested for the 'gift' Anya was telling us about."

Tara tried to speak the next few words with as much comfort as she could, but knew there was no easy way to break the news. "B-Buffy, there's more. This prophecy isn't hard to understand...I m-mean not at all. G-Giles kept up Spike's Diary...h-he knew." She looked for a reaction in Buffy's face.

What she got, for the second time today, was Buffy walking to the phone and quickly dialing a number.

'Well, here we go,' Giles thought to himself as he stood and walked to his ringing cell phone.

"Hello, this is Ru-"

"Tell me now...Angel, Spike, prophecy!" Buffy demanded.

"Buffy, I had expected your call, is Spike missing?"

She was taken aback. "Why would Spike be missing? And why was that your first question?"

Giles tried to get her to answer his strange inquiry, "Buffy, have you seen Spike today...or, this evening rather?"

"Well, not tonight, no. I wasn't really looking for him, though." she lied.

"Buffy," he paused, trying to figure out the best way to approach the subject, "when did you last see him?"

"Last night."

"And before that?" he pushed.

"What do you mean?"

Giles sighed, "Buffy, I know what may very possibly be going on between you and Spike.

It's part of why I left," he confessed.

After there had been no reply to his response, he went on. "Buffy, I only came upon this prophecy after Spike invaded the school. I had no way to broach the subject, and if I did the ramifications could have been disastrous," Giles tried to explain. "Things had to happen, without interference."

Buffy began crying into the phone as she recounted her unknown feelings. That she didn't know what was happening. That Tara knew some things, but she couldn't even bring herself to tell Willow.

Giles tried to soothe her, telling her that it was ok, and not to worry.

"Buffy, I need you to settle down and listen to me. Are you there?"

"Yes," a tearful Slayer answered.

"In one of the cartons you'll be receiving will be a package. There is a book inside you must read. I believe it will tell you what you need to know. Only you can know what secrets it holds. This includes Spike. Buffy, not a single hint of what you find."

"If this is about him, why can't he know?" she paused. "And Tara is helping me, she's going to know regardless."

"Tara? I would have thought Willow would be the one to help, if anyone?" Giles asked.

"Willow isn't practicing anymore. She got all 'witchy' on us. We went wiggy on her." She had to tell him more but not all of it. "When I wanted to know if the resurrection spell Willow used could be making me 'feel' things for Spike, Tara was the only one I could ask. She's been helping me spell-wise and Spike-wise since. Now why can't I tell Spike anything?"

'So that is why she no longer wanted the spell books,' he thought to himself. He had received a small shipment of books two weeks ago that apparently neither Willow nor Tara needed. Now he had the reason why.

"Just like you, he cannot be privy to this information until he has fulfilled his role in the prophecy," Giles softly explained.

She didn‘t like it, but under the circumstances decided this would be one time she wouldn‘t fight. "Ok, Giles."

"Buffy, it really will be alright."

She sighed. "Thanks...I love you, Giles." click.

Giles stood with the phone still in his hand, and smiled as he hung it up.

'I hope I didn't just lie to her,' he silently prayed.

Below the Surface

Buffy turned to Tara after cradling the receiver. "It's almost midnight. Why don't we get the useless books put back? I want to get some sleep, and Dawn and I have our daily breakfast date in the morning."

"Good idea. I have a test on Mythical Figures of Industrial Cultures tomorrow, but I can help after."

"A test on who's of what's? You know, sometimes I am glad NOT to be schooling it. Even if it is just for now." She shook her head as the test's title jumbled in her head. "Oh, and Tara, thanks. I know I have been a pain, but really, Thank You."

Tara smiled. "Well, Spike punched me once." She thought about her family coming to get her more than a year ago. "I guess I owe it to him to give you an excuse to...you know?" she finished with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a stifled giggle.

Buffy shook her head at her friend and the two cleared the table of all but ten or so books, Spike's diary, and the file-box. They strode to the door and stepped outside into the cool night air.

"I'm going to have to get here early if the Council took me seriously," Buffy said as Tara locked up and handed Buffy the keys.

"I'm pretty sure they did, Buffy. I don't think anyone could have taken that tone of voice as a joke."

"Was I that bad?"

"Not so bad, just...well, I sure woulda' listened," Tara smiled.

"Oh, and Buffy? I think they deserve a bit of the yelling. It's the whole rebelling Slayer thing. I think they expect it now."

"Yeah, probably would have just asked a lot of questions if I had said please." She took a breath of the night air. "Tomorrow then?"

"About one in the afternoon?" Tara confirmed.

"I'll be here," Buffy answered. And the two ladies headed for their respective homes.

Buffy decided to take the scenic route, the one that passed by Spike's crypt. Her thoughts wandered to all she had discovered so far. It wasn't much. Just because a Vamp didn't try to kill a Slayer said very little. As a matter of fact, it only showed they were damn smart Vampires. To date, only one Vampire had been able to kill a Slayer one on one.

The descriptions of the Vampires in the diaries had all been different. Medium build, large build. Blonde hair, black hair. Australian accent, German accent. There was no doubt that the few Vampires who had not at least tried to kill the Slayers were not the same one, and in no way could they be Spike. For some reason that was also important to her. After all, Spike was her Vampire. "I did not just think that," she chastised herself out loud.

His crypt was in sight and she tuned her senses to pick up any 'Spike' vibes.

Nothing.

Buffy opened the door to his crypt. It was most definitely empty. 'Damn.'

She turned and began walking out the door when a piece of brown paper caught her eye.

It had gotten wedged under the crypt's door. Buffy closed the door to reveal the rest of the paper and a box that had been hidden by the open door. "Someone sent Spikey a pwesent," she joked.

There was nothing inside, and she tossed the box back behind the door. She noticed that the brown wrapping paper had Spike's name on it, but no address.

"Well, exactly how would you come up with an address for a crypt?" she laughed. "To the remains of Mr. John Doe, C.O. Doe Crypt." The laughter that followed was tense and shaky.

'I really better get home and get some sleep.' With that Buffy began her trek home and tried once again to make sense of meager clues and hints. She entered her house after unlocking the door, then promptly locked it up once again. Before she went to her room she stopped to make sure her sister was sleeping.

She was.

Buffy quickly showered, peeked in on Willow, assured herself that her best friend was sleeping soundly as well, and curled up in her own bed.

Buffy lay in her bed for the next three hours hoping to sense Spike, but there was nothing.

It definitely had to do with the box she had decided.

Slowly she dozed off.

~~`~~

Angel had been thinking in the dark void that surrounded him. He finally gave in to impatience. "Hey, Powers! You do remember you had us called here don't you? No offense, but this whole 'dark demon hell dimension thing' is really starting to bother me," he said out loud, but did not hear his voice.

Too dark. Too dark.

Memories of his last stop in hell began to invade his mind in droves.

'I can't smell anything, I can't see...no taste in the air. I can't feel.'

"No. NO. NO!!"

Terror bore into every crevice.

"NOOO!!"

~~`~~

Spike took a look around at absolutely nothing. "Well this is all dark and dank. I never was a patient one."

"Nice trick," he said impressed. "If a Spike talks in the dark, but no one is there to hear him, does he make a sound? Guess not."

"We gonna get on with this or not?" he mutely screamed.

'sigh'

"Aw' right. Got li'tle else to do." Spike rethought that last line.

"Ok, maybe the Slayer."

And the darkness surrounded him while thoughts of his Slayer 'drowned' him.

A few minutes later, he was sleeping soundly.

~~`~~

After a time, although he had no way of knowing how much, Angel quit screaming. The pain in his throat was not the reason he had stopped. Somehow screaming for all he was worth and not being able to hear a thing made him decide to pull himself together.

Just as he calmed down he felt a 'pull' throughout his entire body and found himself sitting on a dirt floor. Darkness still surrounded him, but only until his demon came forward. He was in a cavern, it was cool...and damp. The walls and ceiling were rock. He was sure that he was below a lake, or a stream. The water running above him had a white noise effect.

Angel let all of his senses begin to work once he knew he was on solid ground again. Then
it hit him. Her scent once again.

"Buff-...Spike, where are you?" he whispered into the dark.

There was no answer so he took a better look around. There, about ten feet away, was a slumbering Spike with an extremely content smile plastered to his face. Angel tried very hard not to accidentally rip his grand-childe's head off as he grabbed Spike's shoulder and shook him...maybe just a little harder than necessary.

"Bloody 'ell!! Trying to give a bloke whiplash probably ain't one o' the tests mate," Spike said sarcastically. Then he stood up slowly, hoping to be able to pick up on that particular 'Buffy dream' later.

Spike's demon revealed itself as he tried to take a look at his present location. "We in a cave?" he asked, looking at Angel with confusion, both still in demon form.

Angel decided inwardly that he could kill Spike after they figured out where they were.

"More like a cavern, there's water running just above us." The elder Vampire walked to one side and laid a hand flatly against the rock wall then dropped it to his side. "Spike, do you smell anything? Anything other than you, me...or your duster?" He kept his anger just below the surface.

Spike knew that if they were not in their current situation, he would most likely be fighting not to resemble the contents of an ashtray and decided to ignore Angel's anger and work with him as easily as he could. "Not a thing, smells...smells like nothing. It's not bad, but I don't even smell the rock, or the dirt we're standin' on."

Angel sighed and let Spike in on what he was slowly concluding. "Wherever we are supposed to be, we're here. The only other times I have ever noticed lack of scent was while visiting the PTBs."

"So, you've been 'ere before?"

"Not here, but I have had the oh-so-wonderful privilege of dealing with them before."

That recollection had him reeling in his anger even more.

"Well, what do we do now?" Spike asked.

A pair of extremely familiar voices answered. "Finally, a good question." Then the second voice. "Jeez, I thought you two were just going to ask dumb ones all night."

The two Vampires turned their heads to stare in wonderment at not one, but two Buffys.

The first Buffy that had spoken was staring at Angel. She wore blue jeans, a light pink cotton blouse, and a leather jacket that he immediately recognized. He eyed a silver cross hanging from her neck and a silver ring with the heart pointed towards her on her hand.

"Buffy?"

At the same time Spike was staring down what had to be his Buffy. Clad in black leather from her boots to her jacket. All but the black tank top. No cross around her neck, no ring on her dainty finger. Her newly clipped hair hung above her shoulders. "Buffy?"

The question asked in unison caused the now very confused Vampires, to break away their stares at the Buffys.

Angel and Spike traded glances as they looked over both of the girls.

"Where's her cross?" Angel asked Spike while eying 'leather' Buffy.

"She hardly ever wears one." Spike took a closer look at the one that the first Buffy was wearing. "That one? I don't remember it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, mate. Why?"

"I gave it to her." Angel closed his eyes and looked down, then back up at the second Buffy. "She looks so different."

"She is," was all Spike could say.

"Ok, guys. We done here?" Spike's Buffy asked.

"I know I am," the first one answered while walking up to Angel and grasping his hands.

"You're with me."

And with that Angel and his Buffy vanished.

With Angel gone, Spike looked over to the remaining Buffy. "OK. So how's this thing work?" he asked while picking out a smoke and lighting it. "Do I just make me wish and wait 'ere or what?"

Buffy's face went from 'straight forward' to 'you have got to be kidding me'.

"I take that as a no then, eh'?" He smirked while pocketing his lighter.

The tone of Buffy's voice became serious. "Young Vampire William, what would you wish for?"

Spike was quiet. Something else came to him, but he put that thought in the back of his brain and answered with fervor, "To get this soddin' chip out of my 'ead."

"Of course. A neutered Vampire is a boring Vampire," Buffy laughed.

Spike's eyes turned cold on this clone of his Slayer. "Boring? Bloody Hell!!"

"Boring...Bloody Hell," the clone mimicked. "I want the soddin' chip out," followed by more giggling.

Spike just watched her. She looked too much like the Slayer, laughed like her. He knew that she would banter with him about his English slang on occasion. But this was not his Buffy, and things were too important to banter. Curiosity, amusement, impatience, and anger filled his features.

"William, I ask you what you wish for, and your first thought is the chip?"

"Yeah."

"Disappointing, this could take some time."

"What time? I made my wish."

"You did not," she stated simply.

Intrusive Memories

Angel's eyes tried to focus. The light that engulfed him seemed brighter than the sun's.

Slowly, the area darkened and he found himself standing in a cavern closely resembling the one he had been in a moment ago. Facing him, although not face to face with him, was a duplicate of Buffy. His eyes roamed her form again, remembering that the other copy had looked so different.

"Why do you look like Buffy, or at least the Buffy from my past?"

The blonde looked up at the dark Vampire. "Angel, you and your Second have been called here because of the unusual connection you have with the Slayer. Both of you." Angel's anger began to rise again. "Your need to protect her is as deep as his passion for her."

Angel looked up into the image of Buffy and shook his head in defiance.

Without warning flashes of memories began running madly through his brain. Darla fighting Buffy, Buffy face down in a pool of water, Spike declaring his wish to kill Buffy, watching from the inside as Angelus tortured her and her friends, the High School's last stand against the Mayor, the wish to The Powers to take back his humanity...

It took the soulful Vampire a moment to gain his balance. "What the hell was that?!" Angel fumed at the being.

"Memory Intrusion. Not usually a hit with most, but I never get to try it with Vampires. Only works with souled beings. I wondered what your memories would feel like." She looked into Angel's eyes. "Interesting."

Angelus had made it clear to Dru that "peeking into daddy's mind" would get her into trouble. She never dared. Angelus hated the probing. His mind was his own. Angel felt no different.

He looked over at the woman and asked, "So, you've never had Vampires here before?"

"I didn't say that, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, OK?" She led Angel a ways down the cavern. After a few minutes the pair came to a stop. When Angel looked to the right, he saw a vision, through some sort of window, of Spike arguing with the other copy.

"Your grand-childe is an interesting specimen," his guide said. "Did you know that The Powers had much of his Vampiric existence planned even before you turned Dru?" She looked up at Angel as he watched the pantomime of the blonde Vamp arguing with Buffy's mirror image.

"You see, for generations, his demon has taken the body of a mild-tempered human. Man or woman, they were all quite similar."

Angel stopped scrutinizing the silent scene, and turned to listen to his version of the Slayer.

"The demon that inhabits William's body has spent more than 1000 years changing. Each time he has possessed a human, more of the human qualities that Vampires despise come through. Not the human's personality, more like a humanized demon. His is not the only one that has gone through this transition, but these demons are watched closely. His has been a favorite for his ability to draw on his humanity so vividly, without realizing it."

Angel looked again at the scene. He saw Spike looking at the granite wall. He was watching something intently, but Angel saw nothing.

"He always has been…different." Angel's own memories, without manipulation, came to him. "We always thought it was because Dru changed him." He laughed to himself. "Darla always used to say we never should have let an insane Vamp turn anyone, even if it had been her idea at the time."

He remembered the talk below the mine shaft where he had to explain almost all aspects of Vampire etiquette to the untrained Childe. "He not only suffered from a slight case of humanity, Drusilla had never trained him like a sire should have. He didn't know a damn thing until we met back up in Yorkshire." Angel's mind revisited Sunnydale. "It's one of the reasons he referred me as his Sire for a time."

Angel's focus returned to the conversation at hand. "But he always did seem to appreciate humanity. He even fought for it with the Slayer against Angelus."

"The effect of your childe’s insanity was not what made him more human, all she did was make him feel needed, and for a while...loved." She turned and studied the younger of the Vampires through the window she had created just for this conversation. He was arguing with her sister again.

She shook her head before closing the gate that had revealed the scene. "But that point is moot. The demon is who it is because it has taken a bit of humanity from each host. Not so much as William, though. His passions, his fears all transferred to his demon.

Unfortunately, he has no idea, so any feelings he has against his Vampiric nature are discomforting. Are yours?"

"Are my what? My feelings discomforting?" The Buffy copy nodded. "Some feelings are...hard to deal with. It's part of the curse, but I haven't got any problems with my day to day feelings."

His memories began flashing through his head once again. This time filled with the face of Cordelia.

First sighted in Sunnydale...simple conversation at The Bronze, again at Sunnydale High's demise. Then in LA.kissing Doyle, pregnant, pain from visions, training to fight, floating from a vision, kissing him, leaving." Pain filled Angel's eyes when he opened them.

"Yes, that's what I thought." She looked at him. 'He is ready. He just needs to accept a few things.'

~~`~~

Spike’s Buffy tipped her head to the side. "Disappointing, this could take some time."

"What time? I made my wish."

"You did not," she stated simply.

"I bloody well did!" Spike yelled in answer. He was becoming more agitated by this woman. 'Not fit to be the image of Buffy.' He thought to himself.

"Possibly not, but it is the link you and the dark haired one have that brought you to us."

"What?!" He knew he hadn't said that last part out loud. 'Oh wonderful, she reads minds, too. Well at least that's a trait the real Buffy doesn't have.'

"But she reads you often, does she not? Is she not able to tell when you are near?" Spike began to open his mouth to answer, but she went on. "She knows it is not just a Vampire, but you."

"You could stop that now. Don't much care for my mind being used like the Scoobies' old library. You can't just look up the answers in my mind."

Dru used to look into his head when he was a fledgling. After nearly ten years, he asked her to stop. She did, but some things could not be hidden (especially when you didn't know you had anything to hide). This experience was no more comfortable.

"You are afraid, afraid I will see something. What do you have to hide, young William?"

She sunk her mind into his and searched. "Quite interesting, strange." She looked into his blue orbs. "You truly love The Slayer, you love her sister..." another short pause

"Scoobies?"

Shaking his head, trying to get her out of his brain, he slowly answered. "They're her friends."

"Ah yes, the newest of the Slayers has had help from those not chosen to join the battle.

They have done this of their own accord?" Of course she knew the answer, but this might get things rolling in the right direction.

"Yeah, well the whelp liked the look of her and stalked her. He was lurkin' in the ol' library and found out about Buffy being all chosen and whatnot. 'Course he went and told the witch, but she wasn't a witch then. After that came the cheerleader."

"Yes, Cordelia. She has become a vital part of Angel's mission."

"Right." He nodded, and smirked at her not knowing what she was talking about. ''Then the wolf." Spike thought a moment and continued, "That's when their school blew up, but at least they graduated, a lot of kids don't survive high school. Especially in Sunnydale, but then Angel and the queen left. Then came the demon."

"Anyanka, yes. My sister and I were quite surprised with that turn of events. A vengeance demon found out and her powers stolen by a man. It is sad. She was always quite good at Monopoly. We have missed her in our weekend games"

"Monopoly, eh?" He wasn't sure if he believed that the PTBs, or anyone involved with them, sat down and played themselves a happy game of Monopoly. Then again, why couldn't they?

"Might explain her fascination with money."

The Buffy copy gave him a quizzical look.

"Right. So then the wolf left, but the other witch joined."

"And you, when did you?"

"When did I what?"

"Join these 'Scoobies'."

"Never!" Spike tried to sound angry. He would never join their little band of merry demon killers. "I help a bit 'ere and there, but never was asked to actually join. It's not like they invite me to the meetings much."

"So, you are not part of them, but you help a bit?"

"Yeah." Spike watched as Buffy raised an arm over her head and placed it on the cavern wall that he had been leaning against. He immediately felt a warmth through his duster and pushed himself up off the wall to turn and see what resembled a movie screen appear on the surface of the wall.

Curious, Spike tentatively tried to touch it, but his hand only felt the stone wall. He saw as his hand rested against the material of the screen, but his eyes were lying to him. So he stepped back and asked, "What's this all about?"

The screen became alive with faces and movement. Faces he knew, but wasn't happy to see.

There, in living color, was Glory, her minions, and the worst face of all. His. Bloodied from a beating he had decided no one should ever have to live through. Technically he hadn't, he would have to have been alive in the first place. He watched as the Hell-Bitch crushed a glass into his face, and winced at remembered pain.

"This was 'helping a bit', right?" and Buffy chuckled. "What do you end up looking like if you work your ass off?" She spoke taking up the familiar Buffy-isms Spike recognized.

"I was just...I was making sure Dawn was safe," he answered while staring with awe at the only vision he had seen of himself in more than 120 years, and he looked like hell...on a bad day.

"Why, she's a Key. That blood must be as invigorating as any Slayer's. It opened a portal to another dimension. Tell me, if you had no chip, would you taste The Key?" Buffy asked sarcastically.

"Dawn! 'Er name is Dawn!" Spike yelled suddenly furious.

"And she's no Key!” He paused. “Not anymore," he finished quietly, with a slight smile.

"But the blood would still be so-"

"No! The Niblet isn't a bloody snack!" Spike's eyes were cold and hard as he tried to stare down this infuriating image of the woman he loved. Finally, he looked back at the screen, only to see himself once again. This time attacking Red in her dorm room 2 years ago. At least he looked better.

"And her?"

Spike took in the scene. He had just escaped the Initiative and was looking for Buffy.

Instead he found Willow, but he was hungry so it was convenient, he had thought at the time. Then he tried to take a bite, and the pain in his head hit like an anvil. It was stranger then, but not anymore, how Red sat back and tried to make him feel better.

He had thought of turning Willow once. She was exceedingly bright, had a powerful mind, lovely.

"Wouldn't change her. Not now. Couldn't kill her." He wanted to explain himself but all he could muster was, "I can't kill her. Not now."

Over time he had grown to respect her. Especially in the last few weeks. Magics were more than difficult to quit, he had heard it was nearly impossible. It was worse than a Vampire's inability to kill, or feed. It was power, the kind that wasn't out of habit, but from addiction.

"Her then?" And the picture shifted to The Bronze. Spike was sitting next to a very unhappy and confused ex-demon. The lights were flashing, and although he could not hear it, he remembered the conversation.

Spike's grin was literally from ear to ear. He was unable to hide the feeling of camaraderie and empathy for Anya. Kindred in their lost power. He had tried to convince her vengeance was in order. Anya had been strong, and had turned down the idea of revenge against Xander in the end. "Don't think I would like the taste of a thousand year old demon. Old blood, you know."

"OK, well then, her maybe?" Once more the vision shifted. This time Tara was seen folding clothes and packing up to move from the Summers' house.

"That was just wrong," Spike stated shortly. Tara had left Willow after an argument over magics went very badly. That was all he knew. Ultimately though, he had to admit that she left because Red was scaring her, and had hoped 'tough love' was the answer. It had been.

Tara loved Red so much, she let her go in hopes that it would persuade her to stop practicing Witchcraft.

"Please, William, tell me what is wrong?"

"She left 'er. Red was just being herself, and instead of trying 'er damndest to help, she picks up and leaves. If I had someone who loved me that much, I couldn't leave. I wouldn't leave," he finished.

"And that has always worked out well for you?"

Spikes eyes widened as he watched Dru's manic face fill the makeshift theater screen. His

Dark Princess. His Savior. "Now that's playin' dirty. She’s the reason I am, she made me. I was amazed at my own power after she changed me. I had to show her...had to make sure she was ok. I loved her," he finished.

"She introduced you to life in a way no one could, by killing you."

"You silly bint, she didn't kill me. She helped me be reborn. I didn't have to follow the rules anymore. No more whimpering William the Bloody Awful Poet, no more snobby aristocrats, no more weakness, no more rules."

A laugh reverberated through the cavern. Buffy was doubled over barely able to stand up, her shoulders shaking. "Oh." giggle "I'm sorry." giggle "I just...oh my..." She tried once more to subside her laughter and finally was able to breathe normally.

Spike gave her his most wicked Big Bad look and wondered what was so bloody funny.

"I'm sorry. You're all hyped on the Vamp thing 'cuz you don't follow rules? All you ever did was follow the rules, unless The Slayer was involved."

"Think a moment, William. You were aristocratic, honorable, moral, reputable-"

"Yeah, yeah. I was the whelp of all whelps. Get on with it!"

"As a human, you did as you were told. Correct?" She saw him nod in agreement. "Then you became a vampire?" He nodded again. "The rules changed, but you followed them."

She watched his reaction. She had his attention, that much was certain.

"Your rules changed, you were no longer a man of money but little else. Suddenly a world of freedom was unleashed upon you. You could kill, were supposed to. So your did. You could make slaves of men or women, were supposed to, so you did. You were supposed to be evil, so you were. You were supposed to follow and support your sire until you either died, or were dismissed, which you did."

Spike was beyond anger. "Where in the BLOODY HELL do you get off telling me what I have been doing for more that 120 years you-"

"Oh, get over yourself. You want to break the rules...that's what you like?" Buffy clone asked.

"I did, I do...I always have. Killing a Slayer, all alone, that isn't in the rulebook is it!?" He stopped. He was too angry to think past the most obvious rule he'd broken. No Vampire, Master or fledgling, had killed a Slayer alone before. Therefore, going after one alone was most definitely not in the Vamp rulebook. Spike hadn't cared. He had wanted to kill a Slayer, so he did. He had surpassed his own record by killing a second alone.

"Like I said, you follow the rules, unless it involves the Slayer." She paused a moment and watched Spike's face. His anger rose into his eyes as they shifted to a golden hue, then back to a brilliant blue.

"Your own senses tell you I'm right. I can see it in your eyes. You have respect for things most might call 'against the rules,' but even these things are influenced by Slayers."

"Slayers. Lady, the only other two Slayers I ever knew, I killed." Spike smiled. "And I did a bloody good job of it, too."

"Once again, William, you are incorrect."

"Now look here you-" Spike began.

"No, look here." With that, the screen lit up once again showing the darkened sky and coastline of New York City. Large military ships lined the docks.

"Why do women always have to bring up the past?" Spike shook his head and stared at the dark haired woman on the docks.

Determined

Fred skipped down the steps early Friday morning. She'd awoken at 5:30 feeling so good that she had showered and dressed even before her alarm's set time to buzz her awake.

The bagels and doughnuts sat on the counter as she filled Mr. Coffee.

Fred's smile dissipated slowly when she noticed Wesley's form slouched over his desk, asleep. He had been researching Akoshta. She knew as much, but he had never asked for help. She worried he would make himself sick.

Fred slowly filled the percolator with water and set it to make a fairly strong "wake up" beverage. She strode beside the desk strewn with books and legal pads. It was a mess to say the least. She read over a few of his notes. She felt guilty. Wes had never "asked" for help, but he had never said "don't help." With that, Fred grabbed four books and walked to her desk, complete with laptop and one hell of an Internet connection. One way or another, she was going to help.

Within an hour she had, not just a good idea, but an extremely clear idea of what was going on. Wes had written down almost everything that had relevance. She knew it was more cryptic in words than in meaning.

The simple truth was that the Slayer, chosen and resurrected, was the influence, the guide, even the anchor when two vampires set forth on separate but connected paths. Fred had easily figured out that Buffy was the Slayer whom Angel had the connection with. It was The Second's identity that eluded her. The names of various Vampires that Angel had spoken about whirled through her head.

Darla was out of course. She had dusted herself. And this was supposed to be, albeit one of the undead, one that could walk and talk.

She ventured into her short memory of Angel's past. What little she knew of it.

Dru. Somehow she knew that was wrong.

Spike. No. He wanted to kill the Slayer, and was with Drusilla.

"No," she said to herself, "No, it's someone connected to the Slayer. Was one of her friends turned?" She tried to think back.

Cordy is here, Willow is a witch. Xander is... no one knew what Xander was, but they would have gotten word if he had been turned. The others that helped to make up the crew had come and gone over the years. Fred knew that ever since the "Harmony" incident, Willow updated Cordy on "turned" friends.


The slender brunette returned to the translations, and by the time Gunn had walked in she knew something more. The Slayer's lover...but it wasn't Angel. This vampire had no soul...and it WAS a vampire. "Oh...my," Fred said as she read on. "Oh, my!"

Gunn stood behind the counter. "Oh my what?"

Fred looked up. She couldn't seem to breathe properly. There were two major details in here that she hadn't been expecting. Gunn whipped around the counter and wrapped his arms around her.

"What!?" He watched her face become paler. "God! What!?"

After a few moments it occurred to Fred that warm familiar arms were holding her. She slowly became aware of her surroundings. Gunn saw her begin to recognize him and the world she was in and loosened his grip.

"Oh, Charles. It's...it's crazy. Akoshta isn't meant to be a test for a wish to be granted. At least not for Angel and his Second." She caught a tear before it rimmed her eyelid. Gunn watched with intensity. Pain was in her face, and he hated to see her in pain.

"What is it, Fred?"

"They are already on the path. It says they are on the path." She took a deep breath and tried to voice her thought. It came out as a whisper. "They are on their path. This is a test to see if they are worthy of the path. And if they aren't...if Angel isn't..." This time Gunn caught the tear as it fell. She looked into the dark pools that held her attention. "If they don't pass the test...they will die."

"You caught on to that did you?" Both turned in the direction of the voice emanating from the previously drowned in sleep ex-Watcher. "It's a bitch knowing everything, isn't it?"

Wes's body gave out once more. He slumped unceremoniously, back on the pile of books, and passed out from exhaustion once again.

Gunn and Fred watched him, and decided to return to the research.

After twenty minutes, Lorne came down the steps with a cooing Connor. The baby played in turn with Fred and Lorne while they took turns with the research until almost noon.

Gunn was content to watch on as Fred giggled with the infant.

She sat at her desk bouncing the boy on her lap. He wiggled and waved his hands, accidentally hitting the keyboard of the laptop. Fred stopped, and looked at the screen to make sure Conner hadn't made her lose her place in her research. Suddenly, an idea came to her.

"Lorne, can you take Connor?" Lorne quickly cradled the baby and began singing to him.

Fred got to work. She set up a link to e-mail AI about any information anyone had on Akoshta. It was a long shot, but anything was possible.

A few hours later, Fred, Gunn, and Lorne looked over the information gained throughout
the study session. It was more detailed than expected.

Akoshta.

Determined by Demon twins, supposedly sisters.

Often a test to be rewarded by a gift, but also a test to approve a foreseen gift.

The gifted are: Heroes, Champions, Those Chosen...

Was around before documented time.

Specifics on the prophecy were more elusive. Simply that it was the Slayer-- Buffy--and
Vampires with a connection. Both a lover's connection, but so much more. Obviously set on his true path by Buffy...or at least Buffy's existence...was Angel. The Second...who was The Second?

Fred also saddened when no one had answered her e-mail information request. She turned on the "notification" so that a message would sound if anyone did e-mail AI.

Wesley began to rouse. He had had a faint memory, a dream, Fred knew what was going on. A baby laughed in the background. Lorne sang...

"Bloody terrific. It's not a dream." Wes tried to focus his eyes on the group at the lobby's counter. He soon realized he had lost his glasses. He felt around his desk until the familiar shape of his spectacles was under his fingers. He looked again and saw the stack of books in front of the group.

This confirmed his suspicion. Everyone knew.

~~`~~

Sunnydale in the AM

Buffy's hand came crashing down on her alarm. At that moment she realized that was the fourth alarm clock in as many weeks that she had sent off to an early grave. She sat up and stretched. "Buffy, the Alarm Clock Slayer," she grunted into the early morning. The sun had just risen and she had an actual agenda for the day.

After a hearty breakfast of sugar covered corn cereal, Dawn met up with a group of friends for the walk to school and shortly after, Buffy was letting herself into The Magic Box.

No sooner had she shut the door, then a knock reverberated through the store.

Buffy opened it to reveal not one, not two, not even three, but four men in blue coveralls, with dollies full of crates and assorted boxed items. She led them to the training room and let them deliver the packages.

She quickly found out that this was only their first trip into the room to discard their burden. All four men made at least five separate trips from vehicle to training room. The pile of boxes, crates, PC disks...it was amazing.

The Slayer's eyes bulged as the stacks grew. Finally, a hefty man with thick glasses and short black hair held out a clipboard with a space for her signature. She signed and then sighed as the crew walked out the door, slamming it behind them.

Buffy's eyes scanned the markings on the side of the parcels. She noted something familiar on one. It resembled...no, it was. It was the design on the forearm of a Watcher she had grown to love like a father.

This particular box was low in the stack. She quickly uncovered the crate and opened the top bare-handed.

The first book she laid eyes on was "Slayer Diary of Kendra" and she knew she had the correct crate.

Buffy opened the Diary of her sister and fallen friend. Even with their opposing perspectives on Slaying, Buffy had considered her family. Her diary was full. From her birth to her death, she had been raised on the lore of Slaying. She had had a life, sheltered, but she had lived. Buffy smiled at that thought and set aside the book.

Each book she picked out went back a few years more. She skimmed through them, but nothing interesting popped into view. When she reached a separately wrapped package at the bottom, she immediately felt as though she had found the answer.

"Buffy, I hope you find what you seek" was written on a piece of paper lying neatly on the top of the book inside of the package.

"So do I, Giles...so do I," and she began to read "Slayer Diary of Samantha."

Buffy scanned the first few pages. They were nondescript as far as the woman who was being written about, mostly because she was not yet called. Even more difficult for Buffy to imagine, she was only four years old when the first entry was made.

What Buffy was reading here had compared in similarity to Kendra's Diary. It started in the very beginning. Where hers would have started if her family had been at all aware of the lineage the blood rushing through her veins carried.

~~`~~

The girl's mother had sought out the man who became her Watcher, and with permission from both natural parents, he became Samantha's legal guardian. She was, what is now called, home schooled. Not only taught the ins and outs of Mathematics, English, and Science, though. She was schooled in languages, both dead and alive. Martial arts training from the age of five. It was vigorous, but never without patience and love from her guardian.

Samantha's Watcher, whose name appeared to be Crawford Emerson, allowed frequent visits from her mother and father. Unfortunately, her father died during an accident while at work, before Samantha had reached the age of ten. Samantha grieved, but had ultimately kept up on her studies. Her mother became a fore figure in the girl's pubescent years.

From what Buffy read, the Watcher had been extremely grateful that his charge could be told about "the facts of life" by a woman, and not by a nervous, unknowing male.

~~`~~

Buffy looked up at the clock in the training room and stood to see if Anya had opened the store yet or not. Of course she had. It was well after 10:00 A.M. Buffy smiled as she heard Anya give a departing customer one of her more colorful 'thank you' phrases.

"And when you wish to spend more money, we are always here to help." Anya smiled as the man gave her a strange look and walked out.

"Interesting tactic, Anya." Buffy stifled a giggle and sat at the research table. A box and almost a dozen books sat atop it from yesterday's project.

Anya watched as the Slayer looked over the piles on the table. "I take it you did not find everything you were hoping to last night?"

"Not even close," Buffy answered and looked back into the training room. "But, luckily, I have enough research in there to keep me busy until the next apocalypse."

She shook her head and set the Diary on the table.

Anya was a bit confused. Sarcasm was definite, but about what...? "Well, good for you!" She nodded at her comment and went back to the paperwork the last customer had taken
her from.

Buffy watched Anya settle back into 'shopkeeper' work and decided she should get back to 'Slayer Samantha 101.' She sighed and opened the book to the page she had been on as she settled into a seat at the research table.

~~`~~

Samantha's strength grew with her training, but she had not been called. Four weeks before her fourteenth birthday, the Watcher knew she could be called at anytime, and kept to the schedule used for girls discovered at such an early age.

Three days before her fourteenth birthday, she disappeared.

~~`~~

"What!!" Buffy yelled at the book.

She quickly scanned the shop in the hopes that Anya and she were the only ones there.

Unfortunately, a woman with short-cropped red hair, wearing a long black gown, was standing directly behind her. Buffy smiled sheepishly at the woman. "Sorry." And she turned back to the book.

~~`~~

Crawford had spent nearly five days contacting everyone from The Council of Watchers to enemies of them. Family, friends, anyone and everyone who may possibly have a reason to kidnap a 'Slayer-to-be.'

Four days after Samantha's birthday, she walked into the living quarters she and her guardian called home and announced that she would be called on her eighteenth birthday.

Many hours of questions and very few to no answers later, they knew almost nothing.

Samantha simply had no real memory of where she had been. Just that she had been safe, given motivation and hope.

The Watcher and The Council of Watchers believed she had been called by The Powers for some reason. Possibly to make sure the young woman would be fully prepared. It was highly unusual, but Sam, as she had asked to be called after her return, put her all into her training for the next four years. She had no friends outside of her calling, but she was extremely happy. She knew and understood her purpose in a way she could never properly convey.

Sam's seventeenth year was spent in practicing three European languages, routine workouts, and trials with different styles of hand to hand combat. Her Watcher had suggested this because of the turmoil in Europe. In all likelihood, she would be sent there at some point. German, French and Russian were the languages she had learned through her youth, but they were perfected with constant repetition.

Her Watcher never needed to push her studies or training on her in this final year of preparation. She reveled in picturing the most vicious Vampire she could, being pummeled by her fists, and dusted by her favorite, albeit unused, stake.

One week before her eighteenth birthday, her Watcher decided she should be taken out to
see what she could do. Sam vanquished three Vampires on her first night out.

~~`~~

"Wow." Buffy stared at the page in disbelief and respect. "No Slayer powers yet, and she got three." Buffy smiled. "Cool."

~~`~~

The test that all Slayers must go through on their eighteenth birthday had not been overlooked.

In the guise of concentration training, and with the aid of crystals for focus, Sam's yet unknown powers were taken from her. The test was grueling for the young woman. She was nearly killed on two occasions. In the end she passed and so had Crawford.

After that, everything changed.

When the serum wore off, Sam's strength was immeasurable. The strongest Slayer any one of the Council members had seen. Shortly after, and before her own country was, she was drawn into the war. She was ready, and excited to fight the demons that fed on the chaos hatred and war created.

~~`~~

Buffy took a moment to try to imagine having to be 'tested' even before her 'Slayer' powers had been invoked. She was about to go off into the world. Better trained, and raised with more knowledge than Buffy had. The common link was the idea that it was up to the Slayer. She had to save the innocents so intent on destroying themselves.

Buffy read on, trying to put herself in the shoes of this young woman, raised differently, but fighting the same fight.

~~`~~

The war was raging. Sam was sent to Europe. Her ability to speak five languages fluently had not hurt at all. She spent more time on ships and trains than Buffy could imagine.

Sam rarely went home, and when she did, it was to stop an unspeakable evil.

Buffy read of five different apocalypses and several demons fully intent on lengthening the war that supplied the fear they fed on. Vampires were everywhere, of course, but usually were not the main goal. A lot of Sam's conventional training went out the window within the first year of true fighting.

~~`~~

The next section of type began with an odd symbol. Buffy was sure she recognized it but
could not place it. Somewhere inside she felt it was somehow important.

~~`~~

While in England, Sam came across a very unnerving sight. In a back alley, a Vampire, tall and muscular with long black hair, was beating a demon she herself had been tracking, into a very bloody pulp.

Sam hid in the shadows. She was clad in dark blue slacks and a matching blouse. Her raven hair was pinned into a bun on top of her head. She stayed hidden until she was sure of what she was seeing.
A demon was killing another.

Demon fighting for dominance was normal, but if this Vampire was ever found out he would be shunned. No demons would speak to him for fear of also being alone.

The Vampire in question was almost done thrashing the demon who had dared to hurt one of the few humans he could call friend. He himself had been an outcast in the demon world for almost 200 years, and found solace in the nights with humans he had entrusted with his secret. Most were gone now. Too many years had passed. The few he had left were old and weak from age, but he watched over them to be sure they could live as long as their lord allowed.

His friend, now in his early 70's, was standing off to the side against the same building Samantha was. In the shadows, he watched the woman on the far side, spying on his undead friend.

When the bloody carcass in the Vampire's hands no longer moved, he dropped it. He looked over to his old companion. An odor he recognized as human female wafted to his nostrils.

Giving the aged man a warning look to stay put, he turned his head to see a woman staring in disbelief.

"You had better clear out of here, Miss." He spoke with perfect English, although the accent was Russian. "There's nothing good on these streets that a lady would want to see."

Her eyes widened as the old man, who had been hidden, stood behind the Vampire for protection. She stood there, frozen for what seemed like hours, as she tried to figure out exactly what she had seen and was still seeing. The old man was cowering from her. He was hiding from her behind a Vampire.

She wasn't sure what to say. Finally, she was able to form a voice and words.

"Like Vampires?" she mustered up. "Because, sir, I believe I have seen that already." She walked towards the Vampire in human visage. She looked him over. He was most definitely a Vampire, old too, powerful...but protecting humans?

He looked back at her with equaled curiosity.

"Who are you?" The Vampire eyed her from head to toe. She was not dressed like most women he knew did these days. She didn't quite fit in.

Once more he asked. "Who are--" Somewhere inside, he understood the woman's calm.

"The Slayer. You're...you're her, aren't you?"

"I am," Sam answered, but did not move.

The Vampire gazed at her and began to grow impatient. "Well?!"

"Well, what?" Sam asked.

"Well, isn't this about when you stake me?" He had managed to avoid Slayers for quite a few years. He had no real desire to die. But the odds were, well, not good.

Sam had been taken aback. "Yeah, Sam...aren't you supposed to stake him?'' she asked herself, but didn't answer her question.

"Generally." Sam thought quickly. "You see, you have given me a bit of a gift here." She looked over at the demon whose thick blood was coloring the cobblestone with a sick green ooze. "That was my mission for the night," she said with a slight shrug and gave the Vamp a smile. Oddly, the Vampire returned it.

"So you're not planning on driving a piece of wood through me tonight?" He waited hopefully. He wanted to be sure his friend got home safely, and he could not do that in the form of Vampire dust.

Samantha, with all her training, had never thought about not killing a Vampire on sight.

Somehow she knew her Watcher would not be pleased, but her conscience would not allow her to kill a being, demon or not, that would fight to save a human. It was a bit too much. It was much too much, in fact. "You," she called to the gray haired man cowering behind the dark, undead figure. "Come out. I won't hurt you."

The old man looked up at the younger looking one. "Ashton?"

"It's ok, Mike, she wouldn't hurt you. It's my kind she kills." As swiftly as the old man could manage, he stood protectively in front of his undead friend.

Sam watched the scene, and tried not to laugh. "Sir," she began to the old man, "I already gave my word that I would not kill him...tonight." With that, Sam walked out of the alley and in the direction of her flat, with more confusion than she had ever felt before in her sheltered, but enriched, life.

"Why am I leaving?" she asked herself as she continued to her home.

~~`~~

When Buffy finished the last page of the recount, she looked up and smiled. She noticed the odd symbol again, and decided to sketch it so Tara could help her find its meaning later.

The Slayer took notice of the time and decided she could read a little further before Tara arrived.

~~`~~

Most of the text was vague, like the beginning had been. It had no references to Ashton, right up until Sam's seventh apocalypse. It was here that Buffy noticed that the Slayer was no longer alone.

By the end of her fourth year as Slayer, she had a Vampiric ally. His existence in her life was hidden from her Watcher for almost two years. It hadn't been hard to do, considering the Vampire lived in England, and Crawford still lived in the U.S...

~~`~~

"Wait!!" Buffy reread the last paragraph. "He had to know, how else could he...the symbol." She looked again at the sketch. "It's the symbol of The Council of Watchers. Oh, God!!" Her eyes widened while she stared at the page. "They were watching her!" Shaking her head she mumbled, "Watchers.humph." She quickly flipped back to the meeting of the Slayer and Ashton, the Vampire.

That was it. It was too descriptive. Her Watcher knew about it... knew about it from the start...
"What the hell?" Buffy shook her head, wondering if they had kept this bad habit of following Slayers. Giles knowing was one thing, but the Council?

There were too many questions. She settled back down, and decided the answers were in the book, or Giles wouldn't have sent this particular one. Resigned to find out what the whole story meant, and how it ended, she read what seemed like the last of the pages.

~~`~~

It continued, more fights, one last apocalypse. Buffy noticed Ashton's presence referred to more often, but neither the Watcher nor the Slayer ever seemed to actually reveal their knowledge of his existence to each other. She skimmed many of the last few pages, then stopped when she recognized a familiar phrase at the bottom of a page just before turning it. Buffy began the paragraph again and read more thoroughly.

"I fear for her. She has disappeared once again. Last time she was returned with a new fervor and purpose, but she has fulfilled all of her duties as Slayer. All that is left is her death. We do know, however, that she has not died. No other has been called. I only hope he is unaware of her disappearance."

~~`~~

Buffy turned the page, but it was blank. That had been it. The final entry made by Samantha the Vampire Slayer's Watcher. Buffy was baffled.

"That's it? That doesn't tell me a damn thing," she whispered to herself. "What happened? Did she come back? Did Ashton find her? What?"

Buffy stood and spoke to herself out loud while pacing. Anger rose and she stomped towards the book. She grabbed the binding and shut it with so much frustration it flew off the table and landed unceremoniously, opened facedown on the floor. The Slayer scanned the used leather binding with worn gold embossed letters telling anyone who looked that this was "The Diary of Vampire Slayer Samantha."

Buffy sighed and bent to pick up the Diary of a sister. Writing that had gone unnoticed came into focus just below the book's title. "1918-1943." Suddenly, a part of Buffy's brain that had not been paying much attention clicked on as she picked up the book. A small white piece of paper fell from the book and hid itself under the table.

Buffy reread the dates and went white. "Holy Crap!!"

Anya's head whipped around. "Buffy, if you are going to use inappropriate language, would you please go into the training room? It's soundproofed." Anya turned to apologize to her current customers. "She always gets so excited with our range of quality merchandise."

Buffy thought while she sat back in her seat and waited quietly.

Anya wished her customer one of her usual departing thoughts. "Thank you for sharing your prosperity. It's very patriotic."

Buffy headed towards the ex-demon. "Anya, I need your help."

"Sure, Buffy. What can I help you with?"

Buffy's request was simple. She wanted to hear the story Spike had told Anya about Akoshta, and anything Anya could remember about the Slayer in the tale. Anya happily retold the story, making sure to include Spike's quote of that Slayer's words.

"For another to be called so my love and I could live what would have been our 'natural' lives."

"That's it!" Buffy hugged Anya. "He didn't have a natural life, not that she did, but..."

Buffy looked at Anya who was looking curiously at her. "The Slayer, the one in Spike's story. Anya, the love she's talking about, I'm sure he was a Vampire."

At that moment, Tara strode into the shop and became acutely aware of Buffy's overwhelming emotions. "Buffy? Are you ok?" she asked worriedly.

Buffy looked up at her friend and smiled.

Confession

Wes looked over at the group. A green demon holding a baby. A Vampire hunter under the employment of a Vampire. And the most brilliant woman he had ever had the pleasure of knowing, even after 5 years of being trapped in a dimension where her humanity was her curse.

The ex-Watcher knew that this ragtag group of researchers would eventually find the answers they sought on Akoshta. The problem, he decided was that he knew more already, and could not, would not, give them any information. Anyone who knew had to know because of their own research. He himself found out completely by accident more than three years ago while familiarizing himself with the books and files Giles had kept at the Sunnydale High School Library.

At the time, he was resolved to tell the Council. Then an odd thing happened. The problem was not Slayer prophecies; it was a Mayor intent on destroying Sunnydale, and one rogue Slayer. His life changed in so many ways after that day that he had promised,
and had honored his promise to Giles: 'No one can know.'

So came the tentative relationship he now had with Giles. One where they called every few months to compare notes on their charges. Neither Buffy nor Angel knew that the two were confidantes. Notes were compared, and, after a time, both men decided on who the Second would be, and that Giles would have to leave.

His lazy eyes looked once again over his desk, this time with his glasses in place. "My legal pad?!" Wes squealed.

Fred, thinking it was a request, drew up the notebook that was sitting by her laptop into her hands and strode towards Wesley. He quickly snatched it from Fred. Looking through the obvious 'hints' as to what was happening. He asked fearfully, "So, what have you found so far?"

Gunn walked to Wesley, and recited..."Sisters, demons, test, prophecy, death..." Gunn looked Wes squarely in the eyes to make sure his point was not lost on the ex-Watcher.

"The Second?"

Wes had not been prepared for that. He had no doubt that the three remaining of the group would find 'Akoshta's' meanings, but to know who the Second was...

"Who is it?" Fred finally asked.

Wes turned his head to face all three and a cooing baby. "You..." relief washed over him as he took a breath. "You have to figure that out yourselves."

Wes took a step back from the entryway to his office, and did something he rarely, if ever, did. He shut the door.

Fred and Gunn took a moment to reflect on Wes' words. Lorne, who had helped to clarify details in the research, had a thought, "Didn't anyone ever keep records on Angel? I mean, hey, I love the guy as much as anyone, but he's a Vampire. Don't those Watchers keep Vamp chronicles you can hack into?" he asked, looking at Fred.

The young brunette shook her head. "They don't use computers, at least not for records like that."

"Could you call Su-" Lorne's words were cut off by Gunn who went swiftly to Cordy's file cabinets.

"Oh man, I shoulda remembered. Damn it!" Gunn cursed himself while opening the bottom drawer.

"Fred, you know how Angel went all evil from those happy pills that actress slipped him?"

Neither of the two were there at the time, but Cordy had told and retold that story enough times that Fred nodded. "She started a file on him...well more on Angelus, but she's been keeping it up to date."

Lorne walked over to the cabinet and watched the humans go through the files.

The one plucked out read "Angelus/Angel, History of." It was thick, containing a timeline, pictures, handwritten and typed 'moments in time.' Gunn smiled up at Fred. "Well, now maybe we can get a better idea of who the Second is with all this."

Connor chose that moment, after a feeding, to doze off. Lorne laid the baby gently into his bassinet. "We should probably go through this together. Don't forget, whoever it is isn't just connected to Angel, they have to have a connection with the Slayer."

Fred chimed in, "I'm guessing we can rule out any female Vampires." Gunn looked over to her. "You know, because of the...um, well...sex. Not that there is anything wrong with it, but I think Buffy is strictly a man's woman."

"Yeah, but we might not want to rule it out. I mean, you never can tell," Gunn answered.

Each of the three took paper and pencil in hand, and began their lesson on Angelus/Angel.
Sunnydale

~~`~~

Buffy truly could not help it. She wasn't the only Slayer that loved a Vampire. Her happiness made the shop glow.

Anya, in her 1200 years or less of life, recognized from the very first encounter after Buffy and Spike's first night together that they had had sex. Sex, she knew, was so different from love. The ex-Vengeance Demon had figured the lust was from honest need. Not love. She chastised herself for not realizing that the emotions in Buffy were tuned in more acutely when Spike was around. It was love.

Tara strode to Buffy. "Any new info?" Tara was hit with more information than she had wanted...and also confirmed some of her Slayer resurrecting checks she had made.

Anya spoke up in the emptiness of her store, "Buffy is madly in love with Spike, but..." Anya looked in Buffy's direction, "it's a secret."

Tara and the Slayer both stared at Anya. "What?" was the mutual response to Anya's words.

Anya looked from Buffy to Tara. "It's a secret, I get it. Don't worry, not even Xander will know...unless you say I can tell him? Should I tell him?"

Buffy shook her head left to right once. "NO."

Anya nodded. "Secret," Xander's love spoke. Buffy trusted those words...and let everything spill from her lips.

In the early afternoon, Buffy, Tara, and Anya concluded that Spike had been called for Akoshta. Unfortunately, not all of Tara's news was good. She spent most of last night researching...to little avail. The truth was, she didn't have the internet connections Willow had.

Simply put, she knew:

Akoshta was not always getting, but earning a gift.

Two were, as Anya said, always tested.

Death was foretold for those who could not pass the test.

Anya eyed the two younger women, not sure how much to say, so instead, she asked questions. "So, Spike is being tested to earn a gift he is supposed to get anyway? That doesn't make much sense. And who would the other Vampire be?"

Tara answered Anya's question. "A-Angel?"

Buffy's eyes widened with a realization that had not hit her earlier. "Oh, God." The
Slayer's mind suddenly flashed pictures in her head. Angel and Spike...together again. "Angel's gonna kill him."

Willow headed down the sunny street, and turned to the back ally of the shop. She wanted to talk to Buffy and assumed she would be in the training room. Besides, the less she was in the shop, the less she had to worry about making a stupid mistake and slip up somehow.

Using her key to open the back entrance, she sighed and noted the stacks of boxes but lack of Buffy. Then she cocked an ear in the direction of voices. Noting one was Buffy's, she began to enter The Magic Box through the archway.

She froze in place, just out of sight.

Buffy began her rant. "Oh, my god. Seriously, Angel is going to kill Spike. Vampire senses...he'll smell me...oh, God!"

Anya and Tara didn't catch what the problem was. "Doesn't Spike bathe?" Anya finally asked.

Buffy stared at the woman. "Of course he does, Anya. Eew!"

"I don't think Anya's trying to insult him. It's just, even with pumped up senses, how could Angel...?" Tara wasn't sure how to ask, mostly because she really wasn't sure what Buffy was worried about.

Buffy hung her head and began to sit on one of the stools set in front of the counter. "It's his jacket...the duster." She paused and tried to explain without too many graphic details.

"The first time Spike and I...we, we hadn't exactly planned on it. It started as a fight...when I found out he could hit me."

"He can hit you, without the head bumps?" Anya asked.

Buffy had left that out unintentionally, but it was an important detail. "Yeah...he can."

Anya was surprised, but nodded her understanding, so Buffy continued. "Well, we ended up in an abandoned house. No strike that, we ended up in the basement of the house...no bed...no blankets...so we used the duster to..."

A tiny squeak came from behind the ladies, and there they saw Willow. Her renewed whiteness set off her red hair and scared Buffy.

Buffy in turn knew immediately that Willow was hurt. She had once again been left out of the loop.

Tara took in her ex-girlfriend. "Willow?"

The redhead walked into the shop and over to the group, setting her bag on the counter.

She looked into Tara's eyes, then into Buffy's. "You...slept with Spike?" Buffy nodded in confirmation. "Spike can hit you?" Buffy nodded again. Willow was hurt, but thought she had put it together. "You asked Tara for help, magic help, to find out why he can hit you?"

Buffy began to nod, then stopped. "Wills, I...I was, am worried he can hit me, but that's not the whole reason I asked Tara to check the magical side of things." Buffy's eyes began to well up with tears, the happy news that she was not the only Slayer to love a Vampire.

She fell into her best friend's waiting arms. "I think…I might…I love him."

Willow's arms held the Slayer, and she tried to soothe her. "It's ok, Buff. I mean, it's...and Spike's been really good around here. He went all out last summer for us." Willow looked into Buffy's swollen eyes. "You can't control who you love. Don't you remember when I told you about...Tara?"

Buffy wiped her tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Will, I know you want to make it ok, but Tara and you...well, it's so not the same as Spike and me." She paused at her own words.

'Spike and me.' She'd never even really said that phrase out loud before.

The three ladies watched their friend's facial expressions morph before their eyes. First, a look of distaste, followed by one of confusion, then a small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

Without realizing what the effect of her words would have on the group, Buffy began.

"Wills, you remember after we got rid of your cyber boyfriend, you were all sad?" Willow nodded. "Let's face it. None of us are ever going to have a normal relationship. I think the Slayer over a Hellmouth is included."

Anya decided now it would be safe to ask the one question she had been holding back for weeks now. "So, is he as well endowed as he looks like he is?"

"ANYA!" the duet of Willow and Tara yelped. Buffy became an extremely deep shade of crimson.

"Well, look at her. It wasn't such a terrible thing to ask. Obviously he is," Anya shot back.

Willow and Tara scanned Buffy's now red complexion.

Reliving

Angel's guide led him further into the cavern and into a large room. This chamber was nothing like the path that led to it. Here the walls were flat and pure white. The floors were an odd lavender marble, accented by rainbow of pastel, gold-lined rugs strewn around. The room had an immediate calming effect on the dark Vampire.

The golden haired woman faced Angel once again, taking in his reaction to the room. His face had eased, and his manner was more relaxed.

"What is this room for?" he asked while eyeing the Spartan room.

"This," she began while spreading her arms and spinning slowly, "is where we will determine your progress. In here you will not just remember the past, but feel it, smell it, know it." The clone of Buffy walked over to the rugs and began piling them off to the side. What was revealed surprised Angel. There, in the center of the floor, was a mirror.

"You look a bit shocked."

"You really must not get many Vampires here." Angel's heart sunk a bit. He could never pass this test, not if it involved mirrors.

The woman realized Angel's meaning. "This mirror is nothing like you have seen. You will never see your outer reflection...this is the mirror into your soul. As long as you look directly into the mirror, you will be able to see all and anything your soul has seen." She finished and took his hand into hers while leading him to the silvery reflection in the center of the room.

He did not look into the mirror. Instead he looked at her. "What you are about to experience can sometimes be uncomfortable. Once you begin, there is no stopping. Do you understand?" Angel nodded. "This will also help you to move closer to your destination. You will relive much of your past, and see it as your soul saw it. Do you understand?"

Angel paused. He understood, but in that understanding came fear. His human self had a soul, and was violent. The same soul that was pushed aside felt and saw Angelus for over a century.

Then there was the souled Vampire, who felt the pain of that century, and the century he had wasted, every moment of every day. Finally, he nodded.

"Good. You may want to remove the jacket; your movement could be impeded." He quickly shed his leather wrap and handed it to the woman. "Before you look into the mirror, I want to let you know that not just your grand-childe's Vampiric life had a plan. I know you know this much with your mission, but there are plans beyond."

With that last statement said, she directed him to look down.

Angel took a step forward so that he was standing at the edge of the rectangular glass. At first, all he saw was the ceiling reflecting back.

A darkness began to fill the mirror, then shapes began to form. Soon colors, tan, white, black, flesh, all could be picked out. When it all came into focus he was looking directly into his eyes. The eyes of a young man no more than 14, the beginnings of facial hair not cleanly shaven, a white shirt, with a touch of ruffle. Brown short pants and white stockings.

Angel felt himself falling into the mirror. He knew he would crush it, and tried to stop his descent, but was unsuccessful. When he regained his balance and opened his eyes, he found himself in his home...his childhood home.

"Liam!" He heard his name being called. The room was his, his bed and dresser were as he remembered. His oil lamp was sitting on the small desk used for schoolwork. The floor was covered by a rug, worn from use. "Liam!" rang through the house once more. His father, he vaguely remembered the voice that had died from his memories over 200 years ago. "Liam, boy, where are you?"

His father threw open the door. "Liam, I called you. When I do that you are to come." His father slapped him across the face while shaking the parchment he held in Liam's face.

"Would you explain why you feel no need to follow either my rules or the head master's?"

Angel's memory began to clear. The head master.14 years old...I'm going to be thrown out of school. Angel found that he was unable to control Liam's reactions or words. He felt the laughter of the boy begin to shake his body.

"Father, if the old man wants me out, I'm happy to go. Sums and figures, reading of men dead and gone. There is a whole world out there now, I'd rather see it than read about an old, dead one. The world is opening up, Father. I could travel to China, or Italy, or maybe the Americas." Liam's eyes took on a faraway look that only fueled his father's anger.

"You will not travel, you will study, you will go to University, and you will take over the business after I am satisfied that you can." His father stormed out, on his way to speak with the man running the Havershem Preparatory School and hoped that he would once again be able to keep his belligerent son in school.

Angel's vision shifted, his legs felt like lead and his gut twisted before he found himself on the streets of his hometown. Walking beside him was a light haired young man, about seventeen. Gregory, he remembered, the young man who had been his friend for most of his childhood.

"An' the ladies there are not so shy." Gregory was continuing a conversation that Angel could not recall. Considering the amount of alcohol he could smell on Liam's breath, he was surprised the teenager was upright. "So, Liam, what do you think? We take one more shot at the pub?"

"Aye, we'll have ourselves a pint, and maybe I'll find myself a fair haired beauty as well."

Liam's laughter reverberated throughout the streets as the two stumbled into the pub.

They fell into their seats at a long wooden table shared by many of the patrons. A young woman came up to the men. Liam promptly hauled the woman onto his lap.

"Brunette...never was too picky." He pressed a kiss hard and unwelcome, on the woman's lips while groping at one of her breasts. Gregory finally coaxed his friend into letting the helpless young woman go.

"Liam, this is one of the few pubs you haven't gotten us booted from. Like to keep it that way." The large brunette young man smiled at the woman as she freed herself from him.

"Two pints, miss," Gregory ordered.

Angel had felt the enjoyment Liam had in forcing himself on the woman, but hated it.

Once again he shifted, this time to his home's kitchen. A young house maid, at least seven months pregnant, was busy with her chores.

Liam walked from behind the girl and looped his arms around her waist. "You've been a smart girl. Keeping yourself quiet will earn you a place in this world." A tear fell from the brunette's green eyes.

Angel swore at himself.

This young woman was carrying his child. He had not forced her, she had been willing, but when she realized she was with child, he simply told her that if she breathed a word, he would have her killed...and he convinced her that he could.

Although his father had wanted to ''fire the whore,'' Liam's pleading had convinced him to keep her out of pity. She was told to keep out of sight while in his home, and Liam’s father promised to keep her on for the sake of the bastard child, whom he was sure was his bastard grandchild.

Angel's memories carried him to another night. The night he woke into a new life.

His hands were bloody from digging his way back to earth. When he looked up, she was there. The blonde hair in perfect curls. Her gown was lavish, and ornate. He was confused.

"My boy," Darla sang to him. "My sweet, magnificent boy. My...Angelus." This memory was the clearest and oldest one that Angel had always been able to relive. He was reborn, renamed, reinvented. The first thing to do, erase any of his old life. The two set out on a rampage to be remembered.

First was his family, then those that worked for them. He took an oddly familiar pleasure in killing the house maid who had yet to give birth. Her wails had been the most invigorating. Angel relived the entire week of killing and destruction. It went quickly, but he felt and saw everything. His pain was doubled, and he knew if he had been in his true body, he would have heaved.

He jumped further through time.

Being chased by a Vampire Hunter. Hiding in a barn. He had the odd feeling he was being drawn past these memories to something important. Turning Dru. The complications of making her insane before he finally bit into her flesh. Acquiring William the Bloody. The separation of the little family after Dru decided she wanted to leave London. He slowly passed over the moment he regained a soul. At this moment he did retch into the damp grass that lay below his feet. All of the memories had sickened his soul, and he was finally able to react.

He walked with the shadow of himself. Angel, watching himself, knew the pain his newly souled self felt more than he had at the time. Running back to Darla, being tested by her, and failing. Once again alone.

He wandered Europe for a few years until ultimately obtaining passage to the Americas. Trying to get as far from those screams and the pain Angelus had caused. He renamed himself: Angel.

Now relying on a human world for protection, he tried to make human decisions. First off was a means to pay for things. He had kept a few items from his human life, and stolen others through his Vampire life. He sold two items. One a diamond necklace he had stolen from a woman...one of the last he had fed from, and the other the gold watch his father had given Liam on his sixteenth birthday. With the money he received, he invested in a few small companies and purchased a vehicle. In the early 1920's he began his trek across the unfamiliar land.

The ensouled Vampire traveled in hopes of going as far west as he could. Once, in Indiana, he tried to kill a human...but could not bring himself to even bite. Instead, while traveling across the large young country, he opted to drink from pigs in the night, deciding it was as close to human he could find. One thing the United States had in overwhelming numbers...farms. No matter how industrialized or modern this new mix of cultures claimed to be, they still depended on themselves for most of the food, meat especially.

He made his way to California within a few years, and settled himself into a routine once he found a butcher willing to sell him pig's blood.

Make-shift humanity all came crashing down on him after being hung by a mob. Angel felt his neck snap, but was still able to hear what he could not have at the time. The group all chastising themselves...all but the bellhop. He was still wailing in victory. The halls quieted. He was on the ground once more. He told the demon to take them all.

Angel slowly began to turn into himself. Unable to be around humans, he became alone, unable to live. Unable to even communicate. The years went by in a fog.

A rat...food. Catch it. The hunger pains will ease. He lunged for the rodent, only causing himself to crash into the garbage cans and making an even worse mess of himself.

"God, are you disgusting," a voice from behind noted. Angel looked over to the man, dressed like an overlt conceited pimp. "This is really an unforgettable smell. This is the stench of death you're giving off here. And the look says, uh...Crazy Homeless Guy. It's not good."

Angel relived again the moment he first saw Buffy. Finally getting a purpose in his unlife.

Once again, the next year moved quickly. Working with the Slayer, meeting her friends, although they were never really his friends, just being around people. It was both comforting and stressful. The demon still craved the blood flowing through their veins, but the soul wanted the people, the connection with humanity.

His brief stint as Angelus again, empowered him somehow. Even in killing the teacher,

Angel felt the satisfaction, and the pain. He was watching from two sides once again. Torturing Giles was more difficult. Then he saw something.…something he hadn't paid any attention to before. Spike's small comment had saved the Watcher's life, but Spike had always gone for killing, not thinking.

Then, later, it hit him. Or rather, Spike hit him.

Ultimately, Spike left with Dru, not caring or trying to help the Slayer he had obviously struck a deal up with, but all the same...Spike had wanted to save the world.

Then, his vision was in a new focus again. A souled one. He kissed Buffy, felt what he felt...the passion and love. Wanting to make sure she was ok. Without warning he was impaled by his lover and being sucked into Hell.

Fear came over the Angel watching with no control. He did not want to experience Hell again. This was not something he needed to be reminded of. Hell, he still had nightmares.

Thankfully, whoever was controlling this rollercoaster ride agreed. Instead, he woke on the floor of the mansion and flew through more moments in time. Shared battles with the Slayer and her friends, the final one being the destruction of the high school. Then all shifted once again.

He was mingling at a party. And out of nowhere a lovely brunette caught his attention.
Cordelia. A smile spread across his face.

He was pulled once again to another moment. Doyle jumping to his death and disappearing into nothingness. Cordelia crying, and all he wanted to do was take her pain, comfort her, protect her.

Quickly again, the moment tore by. More battles and Cordy at his side. Wes, then Gunn. His team. His friends. In over 100 years he could not have claimed to have friends, now he was surrounded by them. Gunn's friendship was hard to earn. Understandable since the man was hell-bent to kill all Vampires. With some coaxing, he had added the young man to the group.

Wes slowly integrated into the team with research and the fine tuning of the fighting skills he had been using on and off through his Watcher training, time in Sunnydale, and as a rogue Demon Hunter.

Cordelia was always there. Always doing what she could. She began to hone a business sense. Researching and working with the group. Although not an expert fighter, she did her part. Complaints of having no money soon were replaced with loyalty to a cause.

Angel watched the time roll by. Abruptly he was pulled into a moment. And there she was. Darla. In the sunlight.
I
mpossible.

The memories he was reliving were more painful to watch. He felt himself go a bit mad. Seeking something in the old Angelus. Something he wanted once again. He wanted not to be depended on, always responsible for these people. He felt the anguish inside when his friends looked at him with so much disappointment. He went to Darla regardless, after telling them to leave him alone.

The outcome was nothing like he thought it would be. He was still Angel, but a smarter, better, stronger Angel. His convictions had been renewed.

Angel rejoined his group after hours of discussion, a little shuffling with chain of command. Then, the lie. The lie to Cordelia. She asked him outright if he did sleep with Darla, and he denied the truth. The demon inside smiled. Angel cringed and wished he could change this moment.
His gut ached, and his mind began to swim. He was suddenly in Pylea. Looking into a mirror. His hair, that's what had struck him the first time he had seen himself in almost 250 years. "God, I have weird hair."

Drawn this time, he found himself in a cave with Fred. She was so scared, so alone. Then Cordy, on a throne. A half naked Cordy on a throne. Then a man...Groo. Anger and jealousy filled Angel. Then he began moving into a battle with the man who was supposed to take the visions from Cordy, oh yeah, while having sex with her. Angel's attacks become animalistic while his demon pushes to the surface.

Once again he shifted to another occasion . This time to the hotel lobby. Sitting before him is one extremely pregnant Darla. Across the room with pain and anger etched on her face, stood Cordelia. Once again time pushed forward, and he was holding his son in the pouring rain. Holtz points his weapon towards the newborn and his father. Holtz passes them, and lets them leave.

Angel once again changed time, and was now running from the different entities planning to take his son. Then, he walks into a hospital. "Connor, his name is Connor."

The night of the ballet jumped into view, along with Cordelia's soft inviting skin. Angel's head is spinning with the ghosts controlling their feelings and needs. More of the evening is brushed past and Angel sees Cordelia in front of him. He hands her enough money for a very long vacation. She walks out, after thanking him, with Groo.

Angel looked up to the ceiling only to see himself looking back from above. His equilibrium was lost and he fell into a heap on the floor.

His face was down when he opened his eyes. He took in the lavender marble and realized he was back. Angel shook when a hand was placed on his shoulder. An unfamiliar voice called his name. He began to feel his mind focus on where he was again.

Pushing himself off the floor, he came to a stand, and turned to see a demon wearing a brilliant blue cloak. "Who are you?" Angel scanned the room looking for the guide that resembled Buffy.

The demon, who was unfamiliar to Angel, had blue-grey skin, no hair, and the skin was pulled too tight it seemed. "I have been here from the start. I am the one who brought you here."

Angel's confusion dissipated. She had taken the form of Buffy for his comfort. Now, he knew, he no longer needed Buffy to be his guide.

The demon smiled. He has made the realization. "You have passed."

Forgive

Buffy stood back, eyeing the group. These were her friends, and now all were involved in a search that was supposed to have been a secret quest for answers to clear her mind, even her conscience. What she found was that as soon as she had shared the things that bothered her, the feeling she had only been able to get while in Spike's embrace was no longer evading her in her normal world.

She felt almost real again.

The better side of this was that Spike might be able to be included in her normal world.

Suddenly, her nose crinkled and she looked over at Willow. "Not that I don't so totally appreciate it, but why aren't you freakin' out...at all?"

Willow smiled tentatively. "Um. Hah. Why?" She felt like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, well...see...man...Giles, he had this thing two summers ago where we were going to catalog, and have a backup of all his texts. He was getting ready to...um..."

"Leave," Buffy finished for her.

"Yeah," Willow nodded. Still feeling extreme trepidation, she tried to feign a smile. "So we were getting into the Vampire Diaries, and he made me leave. I knew something was up, since that meant he'd have to type in and scan all the files himself."

Willow's face became more relaxed as her story continued. "He hates computers. It was the whole reason I was stuck being the one to help. Hello...computer girl," she said, rolling her eyes at her summer of imprisonment. Then she spotted the box on the table and walked to it with the other ladies following.

"I didn't find the right files for a long time. When I did, I started going through them. Oh, my God, Buffy. I was so freaking out. I mean...Spike?!"

"Did Giles know you knew?" Buffy asked, trying to take in all of what her best friend was telling her. More people keeping secrets from her. First Giles, now Willow...who else?

"Yeah, but not until just a few months ago. See, I couldn't find the files before. Not until last summer to be exact. I was trying to find a spell, a prophecy...even a curse…that might bring you back." She was a bit remorseful with that last bit. "That's when I found the hiding place behind Giles's desk. There wasn't a lock, so I just opened it and read the whole thing. My problem was that no names were mentioned."

"I pretty much figured out that Angel was one...and I sort of thought Spike might be the other, but it was just..." She fidgeted, not really sure how to tell her best friend. Willow had hated keeping secrets from Buffy, Xander, Tara, Dawn...even Anya, now that she knew anyway. Her gut had wrenched on more than one occasion while spotting Buffy and Spike arguing over the most mundane things. It was remembering the 'my will be done' spell that really creeped her out.

Buffy watched Willow for a moment. Her face twisted; she felt guilty. That was enough.

Buffy knew her friend had never wanted to hide the facts. "Giles told you not to tell me, didn't he?" The redhead nodded.

Tara and Anya stood back and watched as the friends tried to make sense of the situation.

"Well then, I guess since I already talked to him and forgave him..." Buffy smiled at Willow, and once again they embraced.

Buffy pulled away and said, "So, Wills, I take it you're all for the research?"

Tara picked that moment to speak up. "I really could use your help finding more information on Akoshta."

Willow was elated. 'Yay, Tara time!' "Sure, what have you got so far?"

"Basics of the prophecy: who, what, why...but no wheres or hows," Tara summed up.

"Uh, guys. Not to interrupt, but." Buffy headed back the way Willow had come. There, in piles against the back wall, were crates upon crates of books and files. "I'm pretty sure most of it is useless for what Tara and I have been using as research guidelines...but we should look."

All were in agreement, except for Anya, who insisted that she had to run the shop up front.

Silently, Buffy skimmed through the Diaries of Slayers, Watchers, and Vampires. Tara set up shop in the corner behind the boxes marked as having Magics. Willow got to work on the myriad of disks containing some of the oldest texts, many in Latin, but easily deciphered. Buffy walked by with another armload of books and noticed the screen that Willow was staring at intently. "Anything good?"

"Huh? Oh, well, I think I just found the long version of Anya's story...or was it Spike's?"

She looked back down, and Buffy plopped on the floor beside her after setting down the stack of books in her arms. Buffy immediately recognized the symbol in the far upper left hand corner.

"Hey, that...it's a symbol the council uses." Buffy pointed at the symbol, and Willow eyed her.

"You know this?"

"Yeah." Buffy got up and walked out of the room. She returned within a moment to show Willow Sam's Diary. The Slayer quickly flipped to the description of Ashton and Samantha's first meeting. "See? I remember I saw it before in a Diary...I just can't remember where."

This time Willow stood, left the room, and came back with a book. Spike's Diary. She held the closed book up so that Buffy could see the binding. "Diary of Master Vampire Spike" with "Slayer of Slayers" just below it and then "1880-..." At the lowest part of the binding was the same symbol. On a whim, Willow closed the Slayer Diary, and pointed out the very same symbol on the lower center of the back cover.

"Part of the reason I figured it was Spike. Your Diary, Angel's and Spike's all have the Council's 'symbol of prophets' somewhere on the binding." Willow knew the next question, so she decided she should give up the whole secret. "Just so you know, I saw your Diary when we, Giles and I, were logging information. I wasn't snoopin'." Buffy laughed, and shrugged off the question her friend had just answered.

"I need to show you something else, Buff." Willow opened Spike's Diary and handed it to Buffy. Buffy recognized her best friend's handwriting before she read. After a few minutes of silence, Buffy looked into green eyes.

"You've been keeping his record up?" Buffy was more than surprised. She leafed through the book while listening to how this had come about.

"Well, Giles said he had to leave. He also made it pretty clear that a record had to be kept. Since I already knew some of the...well, stuff, he figured I was the best choice." Willow remembered Giles telling her 'I know you understand this is gravely important. I know you'll be vigilant.' She had been.

"Wow!" the Slayer exclaimed. "So does this make you my new Watcher...or Spike's?" The girls broke into laughter.

"Angel!" Anya ran in, screaming. "Angel!"

"Here?" Buffy stood up quickly and ran over to Anya.

"No. If Spike is gone to Akoshta then wouldn't-"

"Angel!" Willow answered. "Easy way to find out." She quickly typed in the URL for AI to get an e-mail link for Wess. The page loaded in a few moments. Buffy, Anya, and now Tara sat behind her to see what she was looking for. Then they all saw it. The group at AI was looking for information on Akoshta as well.

Willow clicked the e-mail link and typed in a message:

"Dear AI, Wess, Cordy, Angel gang in general,

Obviously, we have an odd situation here. I'm guessing Angel came up missing. Spike did,
too. Here is what we have so far other than the prophecy itself.

Willow recounted the bit of information they knew for sure and finished with, “It's not much. We do know that Buffy is the link."

"A week, make sure they know that they should be gone for seven days." Willow looked quizzically at Buffy.

"Sam...both times she was gone, it was for a week."

"All information says those tested will be gone for seven days." The red head added to the e-mail.

"Anything else?" Willow asked Buffy and Tara. Anya answered, "You could tell them the story about the other Slayer and her Vampire."

"Nah..." Willow and Buffy answered back, then Willow sent the mail along.

"New baddie, or more Slay-ie stuff?" A voice came from behind the group. They turned to see Dawn. She noticed the odd expressions on their faces and really wondered what was going on.

The younger Summers frowned. "What?"

Now We Wait

Dawn looked over the items sitting around the laptop quizzically. "Why do you have Spike's Diary still?" She saw the AI site up on Willow's computer screen. "Another Diary?" she paused, eyeing the items. "Buffy, what is going on?"

"I told you, just some things I need to figure out!" the Slayer exclaimed.

Anya decided she should go back in front, and strode away from the sisters.

Tara disappeared into the stacks of books in the far corner. Willow just closed the laptop and began to rifle through more disks.

Dawn watched as the group separated. 'Something is going on, and they all know. Why can't I? Fine, I'll just start guessing till she tells me from frustration.'

Dawn remembered Spike's Diary. The only time Vamp Diaries ever came out was when the Vampire was threatening...but Spike is 'chip boy,' and the other book looked different. Newer. Like a Slayer's Diary? Oh, my God! They found out that Spike killed another Slayer!’

The young teen stopped herself. ‘Hold on, that makes no sense. He woulda’ told me. It would have been another story to try to scare 'the kid.'

Buffy wasn't sure what to say. "Look, Dawn. It really is just some personal stuff. I just need you to let that be enough info...at least for now. OK?" Buffy's eyes pleaded.

Dawn's mind was still trying to come up with the right combination of clues that might let her in on the big secret. "How come Tara and Willow know...even Anya knows!" Dawn started to pout. "Why can't I?"

Dawn began to ramble in her mind. 'Slayers...Spike...Buffy...Buffy is a Slayer, but she hates Spike. Spike loves Buffy...well duh, Dawn, and the sky is blue.' She just wanted to be in on the big hub-bub. "I mean, if it's about you or Spike, I should know. You're my sister, and he's my friend."

"Spike is not your fri-" Buffy stopped when the pained look filled her sister's face.

"Look, Dawn, Spike has some things going on right now, so don‘t be surprised if he‘s not around for a few days. Tara, Willow, and Anya all just found out what I was researching but we don‘t have all the facts yet, alright?" Buffy stretched the truth slightly, but thought it was in her little sister's best interest. "No one is really supposed to know what‘s going on, so as much as I might want to tell you, I still couldn't. Do you understand?"

Dawn thought to herself, 'Sure, that means if I find out for myself...it's ok.' Instead she said, "Yeah...I get it," and slumped her shoulders while heading into the shop.

She began cleaning the counter right next to where she had lain her books down. With her back to Anya, she smiled, took her pen in hand and began to scribble down the clues she had so far in one of her notebooks. Maybe she could sneak away long enough to go see Spike. If he was going to be to busy to visit, there was no reason she couldn’t take a walk to his crypt. As long as Buffy didn’t find out.

Maybe he would tell her what was going on. It was about him, he should know.

Back in Good Ol' LA

Gunn had paper strewn all over the lobby's floor. He was trying to find anything relevant. Not one of the Vampires had anything in common with the Slayer and Angel. The few that did had been discounted before his search had begun. His head was beginning to throb from reading and rereading the same pages.

"This is crazy!" He flung his arms in the air.

Fred, who was sitting on the circular couch in the center of the lobby feeding Connor, said, "Look, maybe we should just e-mail Buffy. Maybe she has some information on Angel that we don't." She glared at the door to the main office. "Obviously Wes isn't helping on this, or we could just ask him." She glared once more at the door that had yet to open after their employer had basically shut it in her face.

For his part, Lorne had switched roles so many times in the last few hours he was unsure why he was here. Needed, but lost. The babysitting demon interpreter who researched.

'And to think, Host used to say it all.'

"Angel Investigations has received mail," the computer said in Fred's computer simulated voice.

The group looked over at the PC. "Oh, good!" Fred stood with unexpected energy.

"Isn't it supposed to say 'you have mail' or something?" Gunn asked.

Fred giggled as she strode over with the baby and sat at her desk. Lorne leaned in to take Connor. "Yeah, they say that. Unless you want to change the sound settings. I like the personalized one better."

Fred quickly brought up her e-mail inbox and read the sender's address. "Hey, it's from Willow!" She checked the subject. "And it's about.Akoshta? How would they know...?"
Fred opened the mail. Lorne and Gunn read from over her shoulder.

The Sunnydale gang imparted quite a bit of facts they already knew, right up until Spike’s name was mentioned and the fact that he was gone as well.

“The prophecy itself says that two Vampires connected to a Slayer will be tested to show their worth for gifts prophesied to be received. There's a lot of mumbo jumbo to go with it, but that's the gist. Any more information you have would be appreciated and vice versa.

Good Luck,

Willow and the gang in Sunnydale"

All three were visibly shaken. Gunn was the first to speak. "Well, I guess that answers that question."

Fred was having trouble making sense of it. "Spike is the Spike that Cordy told us about, right? The one we were all so sure was with Dru again? I mean, wasn't that why Darla and Dru wanted Angelus...one nice big reunion or something?"

Gunn stood, groaning "Where's the Tylenol?" then stormed off in search of pain relievers.

Lorne sat back. "Spike, huh? Well, there's a reunion worth going to. If memory serves...Angel hates his little grandkid."

Fred went back over to Cordelia's desk and picked up the rolodex. After a few minutes, she came upon the number she wanted and dialed. The phone rang and a young female voice answered.

"Magic Box, there's this whole thing I'm supposed to say, but I forget. How can I help you?"

Fred was amused at the young girl's honestly. "Hi, my name's Winifred. I was wondering if Buffy or Willow was available." Fred didn't get a reply. Instead she heard "BUFFY!!" being screamed. A moment later she heard a voice, a bit older, chastising the young woman for 'yelling for her at the top of her lungs.'

"This is Buffy. Can I help you?"

"Yes, I think so. My name is Winifred. I work at Angel Inves-"

"Is Angel missing?!"

"Um, well no, not really."

"Oh. We thought he was when we saw you had the link for e-mailing information on Akoshta. So why did you want information if he isn't missing?"

"Well, he is gone. We saw him when he left. He got a plain package. It said 'Akoshta,' he got some blood, and left. All he told us was that is was a test, and he had to go." Fred intentionally left out 'and made sure he had babysitters.' She knew Angel wouldn't want Buffy to find out about Darla or Connor until he could tell her himself.

"Oh," was all Buffy could say. Spike hadn't said anything. The package, she remembered. Stuck behind the door. "Spike had a package in his crypt, but there wasn't anything special about it."

"Excuse me, did you say his crypt?"

Buffy laughed a little. "Yeah, he lives in a crypt. Complete with all the amenities, T.V., refrigerator, bed..."

'Not thinking about Spike, or his bed, would be of the good right now. Seven days. Seven whole days. Scratch that...Five more days. Five nights. ARGH! Stop it, Buffy, you're not helping...Ok, Buffy. Stopping.

"Well, I don't know what we have that might help you any more than you've helped us. I mean, what more is there to do at this point?"

Buffy took a moment. Whoever this girl now working with Angel was, she was right.

What else did she need to know? What more was she looking for? They knew what was going on. There really wasn't anything more anyone could do...except hope that the Vampires passed whatever they were being tested on.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"I think you're right is all."

Fred thought a second before she said anything, then decided. "Buffy...you and Spike..."

"W-what?" Buffy stammered.

Fred took a deep breath and continued, "The reason we put up the notice was because we couldn't figure out who the Second was. We knew it was a Vampire, but every time we tried to make the connection of...well, a relationship, a special connection," Fred paused "well, we never guessed Spike."

'Cat's outta the bag now, though, isn't it?' Buffy thought. "Well, to tell you the truth, I was pretty shocked, too."

This time it was Fred's turn to laugh. "OK, then. Hey, Buffy, how about we make a deal? You call us if...when Spike gets back, and we'll do the same if...when Angel comes home. OK?"

"Deal. And thanks again." Buffy hung up and turned around to see Dawn fake-dusting the counter. Buffy had been careful of what she said, knowing Dawn was close by. The confused look on her little sister's face told her she hadn't given anything away. Buffy walked back into the training room.

"Ok, enough research." Willow and Tara stood, looked first at each other, then Buffy.

"Did you find something, Buff?" Willow asked placing the disks back in their cases.

"Yup. Found out there isn't much more to know." Buffy watched as both Tara and Willow looked at her questioningly. Buffy explained her revelation. "Think about it: we know who, we know why, we know what. There is no way to know the where and how." Buffy sat at on a chair near the research table. "I just don't think were going to know until Spike and Angel get back from wherever they are." Buffy paused. "And they will be back."

Willow checked Buffy's face. "Buffy, are you sure? I mean, isn't there more, like how you fell for a soulless Vamp?"

Buffy smiled. "A very smart person I know once told me you can't control your heart, Wills." Willow nodded, and smiled slightly.

The Slayer scanned her training room. It was a shambles. OK, maybe she had gone a bit overboard. She began to replace the tops on a few crates. Filled them to the brim with the books and files and disks. Careful to put them in the box originally used until she came upon Sam's Diary.

That, she decided, she'd be keeping. Giles would understand.

The other two ladies watched for a few minutes, then joined her. Buffy went to call the

Council once more, this time to pick up the supplies they had only just dropped off.

When Buffy asked where Dawn went, Anya let her know her sister wanted some snacks and would be back soon.

~~`~~

"Spike!" Dawn yelled again into the empty crypt. She had even peeked downstairs, but no Spike. No burning candles, even the television set was cold.


She headed out the door, right past the remains of a brown package without even seeing it.

~~`~~

Fred walked up to the door and knocked softly. Wes opened the door. "Spike," she said.

Wes nodded.

"Is that all there is to know?"

Wes nodded once more and shut the door.

Fred went back to the group and began to return files and books to their proper places.

Gunn joined her while Lorne gathered the papers from the lobby floor.

Now it was just a waiting game. Waiting to see if Angel would be coming back, and part of that was up to a Vampire they had heard nothing good about. Fear crept up all of their spines, even Lorne's.

Out of nowhere, the phone rang.

Gunn answered. "Angel Investigations. We help the helpless."

"Yeah?" He paused. "Last night?"

He quickly jotted down a name and number on the pad by the phone. "OK, come on in. We have an open appointment." He set the phone back down and turned to Fred. "At least we'll have something to do while we wait. Vampires, north end of town, about four different nests popped up a few nights ago. The guy who called barely got away from a group last night. Said he's seen a few old buildings that now have the windows blackened. He's gonna give us some addresses when he comes in."

Nothing Simple

"I passed?" Angel asked, confused but hopeful.

The demon took his hand and led him out of the room. "You are able to now enter this part of your journey."

Angel looked at the dirt floor and shook his head at himself. Of course, it wasn't that simple.

The first test, apparently, had been a lesson. One where he had to discover Buffy was no longer his guide. She really hadn't been for at least three years. Not since he moved to LA.

He walked slowly behind the demon. Following her back through and out into the cavern.

She turned to him once they traveled to the point he had found himself when he first arrived with his Buffy copy, now demon. "Your path has always been your own. She gave you your purpose, but this...your life, has always been your own. You have so much more to do before you will be gifted. Trials will befall you and those close to you." She gazed into him to be sure he understood. He seemed to accept her words as fact, so she continued.

"I want you to think about your experiences, all of them." The Vampire eyed the demon as she spoke.

"You began your life as the spoiled rich son of a wealthy man. With those circumstances, and the opportunities open to you, you chose to waste you father's money, impregnate a young woman and ignore any true responsibilities. You were a drunken child in a man's body. You were a demon in human visage."

Angel listened, trying to understand clearly, what this demon was leading up to. It was going to be a long conversation.

~~`~~

Spike watched himself walk up behind the woman on the docks of New York. He watched her speak to him. And he watched as he walked away after speaking with the woman.

"You remember this, don'cha, Spike?" the Buffy clone asked.

Spike remembered. After that day, he was confused for months.

Until his meeting with that Slayer, he really hadn't believed in the whole Akoshta deal. It was a fairy tale. The Slayer he'd always believed in, but you could see a Slayer. Could fight a Slayer. And if you happened to be Spike, you could kill a Slayer. But Akoshta…?

Until that moment, it was all unreal.

Then the world he knew once more slapped him across the face.

Two years of his unlife searching for the woman who had been killing his kind with a strength he had not seen in the other Slayer. Then it was over, and he didn't even get to battle the woman. At that moment in time, a large part of him felt as though his existance was pointless.

Spike watched as the scene continued on the screen.

There was the man he had picked out the crowd for a meal complete with boarding pass onto a ship headed for England. He might not be able to munch on his originally selected morsel, but there was no reason to starve because of it.

He stalked the man. Followed quietly as the man headed into an ally. Then his eye caught a red head with those cute sausage curls bouncing around her face, also holding a boarding pass and headed for the same area of the dock. He smiled, he was in the mood for a female...a female had been his original prey. Spike walked away from the ally, and went after the young woman instead.

The screen no longer held what Spike remembered. Instead, it seemed that whatever was running the show had something to show him in the ally. The man wearing a derby and a black jacket turned to look behind him down the now empty ally. The man seemed disappointed.


"Who's the bloke?"

"That," the look-alike Buffy began, "is Whistler." She walked towards the screen as

Whistler walked out of the ally looking for something and obviously cursing while passersby turned to give him dirty looks for his language. "He was supposed to help you to find a new path. This was the best, and, quite frankly, only opportunity we had to try to get you on our side at the time."

Spike stared at her for a moment, then broke into a laughter that could only be described as demonic.

"You thought that I would fight the good fight...back then?" His laughter picked up and he bent over to try to calm the cramping in his stomach. "Not a chance, luv. No chance in Hell." The tears on his face were streaming down his cheeks and dripping off his chin from hysterical laughter.

"The Slayer... Akoshta... you were in shock for a few moments. Only running on instinct to eat, and go home to your sire. We thought it was the best time we would get to convince you. Whistler caught hell because of this mistake."

The demon explained how Whistler helped to keep the balance so that evil could not overtake good. That it was Whistler who first showed Angel his path. "It took us nearly 50 years to find another way to introduce you to the good in yourself, and correct the mistake."

" 'The good in me?' 'Correct the mistake?' " Anger slowly rose in Spike as he quickly added 2 and 2. "You made sure I was chipped?" he growled. He stood as still as he could. Demanding his body not lunge at this...this...thing who had trapped him. His life wasn't his own, and they had planned it. His fists clenched and unclenched at his side.

The demon wearing the appearance of the Slayer began her explanation, noting the tone in Spike's now very gruff, deep voice. "Drusilla. We helped her to see your mind. Just enough so that she would know what you craved, and that it wasn't her."

Spike was still angry. He had hated that Dru knew what he wanted, and he had no idea.

Spike had hated her words. "I look at you, and all I see is the Slayer."

After her declaration, he had sworn to dispose of the problem, namely the Slayer. Instead he was chipped. He never would have even gone back to Sunnydale if Dru hadn't said anything. And that had been the point. To send him back just so that he would be 'impotent.'

"Lemme see if I got all this right in my 'ead. You...or whoever is running this sodding ride, wanted me to...what...save the world? Fight for good? I mean, why not just stick me with a soul?"

"Because, Spike, we wanted you...not William. William was not...how can I say this?“ The facsimile of the slayer paused looking for the right words. “Tough enough."

He had to agree. William was, and always would be, a ponce. "You, Spike, are the best of both. The lover and the fighter all in one. You actually want to keep this little blue marble turning."

"Despite your little speech," she began as the screen changed scenes. There was Buffy dressed in black, complete with ski cap. The police car was in the background with an unconscious officer sprawled out on the hood. "Most Vampires wouldn't mind the world ending. The only reason it would be a bother would be the lack of, how did you put it? Oh yes, 'happy meals with legs.' No people, no one to eat. Funny how no one else trying to end the world ever really adds that into the equation," she giggled.

"So that's what this is all about. You're gonna try to talk me into being the good guy. Not gonna happen. Might as well tell you that now."

The copy cocked her head to the side and decided on what words would give him an answer without really telling him anything.

"We are not here to tell you to do anything. You are now on the path that was set out for you originally." The demon took a deep breath before continuing. "Whether you like it or not, her love," she pointed to the screen holding onto the image of Buffy the night he made a truce with his worst enemy, "along with a little incentive from the modern world," she reached up and tapped a finger on his forehead, "have all shown you what you are. The truth is in you, but you fight it.

Your demon, the darkest part of it, doesn't want to admit what he knows. Your demon is old Spike. He has gone to the surface more times than could be counted. Always stealing a piece of the human he has taken. The feelings, the emotions, the appreciation. It is all in you now whether you want it there, or however hard you try to ignore it."

Spike's face took on a look of disdain. He was not what she said. The only thing holding him back was a chip. He knew it.

"You are wrong, Spike. You are you. You have become something the Powers have been watching for, for millennia. You have to accept it. Think back to the moment Dru killed the couple on the catwalk."

Again the screen changed. And there was his sire, handing him the limp body of a newly dead woman. The blood was still warm. He looked over to Dru, looked at the woman...took a moment, then drank.

"You knew you shouldn't. You knew, but still..."

"I had reasons, instinct...I had the reason standing in front of me. A plan. I could prove to Buffy what it was. What I felt. Then Harmony screwed up that little plan by...well, bein' undead an' in my crypt."

She let his ramble go on until he finished. "Then why the hesitation?" The question hung unanswered.

"Then there is this." The screen shifted again into the night he hit Buffy after the security guard popsicle was discovered, and nothing happened with his chip. He decided to fetch himself a fresh meal. "You can't hear it, but you know what you were doing, don't you?"

Spike saw himself, talking to himself. Or, to be more accurate, convincing himself to have a bite. He remembered the words. "Yeah, I AM evil. I'm the Big Bad."


In the end, it had all been fruitless. Buffy had been the key. She was the only one he could harm, and the one person he didn't want to hurt...much. "It was bloody irritatin', I'll tell you that much. All hyped up for a meal. Bollocks!" Spike was pacing now. "You could have at least let me have something palatable, pig's blood, it's like drinking from a cold body, even after its heated."

She began to laugh again. "You never pay attention. Too distracted to see what's right in front of you." Her hand filled suddenly with marshmallows.

"Do you know how many Vampires can taste human food as a human can?" He shook his head no. "Exactly one...and you are it."

Shock filled the Vampire's eyes as she emptied the contents of her hand into his cupped hands. He quickly popped one into his mouth. He loved marshmallows.

"The Powers let you keep that of William. If their plan worked out...when their plan worked out, they thought you should at least have this."
Spike let the last marshmallow melt on his tongue, then wondered. "If I got this cuz I'm so bleedin' special, then what did Peaches get?"

She thought, closed her eyes and communicated with the Powers a moment, then answered. "I am afraid I can't tell you. I will tell you this much. He has something also, that no other Vampire, save one that died in giving, has ever had before."

"Oh. Well, that clears it up nicely," he spat back sarcastically.

A Slayer's Story

Dawn actually liked working at the Magic Box, even if it was a requirement by management for all her five finger discounts. Despite that, she enjoyed helping people find just the right scent of incense, or a book, even didn't mind going into the basement for the rarer items. She felt like she was being allowed to see a secret part of the world no one else ever did.

Buffy had headed to work just after 5:00 for the late closing shift. Then Anya was to take
Dawn home to Willow.

Dawn checked the time once more. Only 6:30. Half an hour left till closing. Maybe Willow would let her go to Janice's tonight.

Dawn stacked the books being added to the stock. "Alphabetical order,” She rolled her eyes. “Yay."

Anya glared at her. "It's so much easier to find books if put in a systematic order." The woman walked behind the counter with the plastic bag she was using to gather the garbage from cans. While emptying the garbage she caught a glimpse of the floor.

"Dawn!"

Dawn sat up straight. "What?"

"Have you swept this floor at all today?" Anya set the can back down. "I think you need to get the broom. I do not wish to have a customer complain about a messy shop." The ex-demon walked towards the back door to dispose of the garbage. "It could cause them not to exchange currency with me."

Dawn began her chore, grumbling about how she hated brooms. They always made her think of bad witches in fairytales.

Dawn swept behind the shelves, behind the counter, then the entrance. Anya watched as Dawn, thinking she was done, started to put the broom away. "Under the tables, too, Dawn."

The girl continued her grumbling while she headed for the display tables and cleared the debris from under them. Then she headed for the research table. Dusty floors. Dirty from people bringing the grunge of the outside and making a mess.

'Ohhh, paper! Something different.' Dawn unfolded the dirty white piece of paper.

"Samantha Emerson, 1428 Ash Canyon Rd, Carson City, Nevada." Dawn pocketed the paper and continued cleaning. When Anya was satisfied, Dawn asked if she could go over to the Doublemeat and maybe catch dinner with Buffy.

The pleased shopkeeper scanned the now empty store and grabbed her purse. "I'll go with you. I don't think she would be too happy if I let you walk there this late alone. Then I'll take you home. OK?"

Dawn nodded. Even if she hated to be watched over all the time, maybe she could work some info out of her boss.

"So, did Buffy find out what she was looking for?"

Anya eyed the teen. The woman was sure that Dawn had no idea what was going on. "I believe she found out all she could from the books." They turned another corner, walked for ten more minutes, and were standing in front of Buffy at her register in no time.

"Hey, Dawnie. Aren't you sick of this food yet?" Buffy asked, just as her manager walked into the ordering area. She quickly covered for herself. "I mean, wouldn't you like to try chicken this time?" The manager gave Buffy a curious look before walking back into her office. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Nice save, Buffy," Dawn said while fishing out some money from her pocket. The grimy paper fell out and onto the floor. "I think I will have the chicken sandwich, and small fries...oh, and a chocolate milkshake. Buffy shook her head at her sister's love for junk food, but tapped Dawn's order into the register anyway.

Anya noticed the paper fall and plucked it up. "Dawn, is this yours?" Anya opened the paper up and read. "Who's Samantha Emerson?"

Buffy was only half listening as she gathered the items for her sister's order after handing Dawn's change to her.

"I don't know. It was under the table. I thought someone might come back looking for it. I mean, loosing an address can be a pain, right?" Anya nodded in agreement.

"Whose address is it?" Buffy asked while setting the tray full of food on the counter in front of her sister.

"Samantha Emerson," Dawn answered.

There was immediate recognition and Buffy's eyes went wide.

~~`~~

Buffy had some trouble convincing her manager to reschedule her for the next few days. Other than that, the plan was easy and simple. She was going to go meet another Slayer.

The trip would take a little more than six hours. Luckily, she had no driving to do. The Greyhound ticket was in her purse.

Her friends were all there to see her away Saturday morning.

Anya, Tara, and Willow wished her luck, not really knowing why. Dawn and Xander knew that Buffy was anxious to meet the woman who had to be the longest living Slayer ever, but she was acting strange. Even stranger than what had become normal.

Buffy waved out the window to her friends and family as the bus pulled away.

The ride was calming for the first few hours. Later, her stomach's flipping and flopping had caused her to go into the awful little room they called a 'restroom' twice the last hour of her trip. She quickly hopped off the bus once it had reached its destination.

Buffy hailed a cab after departing the bus. She was on her way. The houses all looked small and homey. The air was comfortable, and the sky was clear. All in all, a lovely place to live.

The cab slowed as it approached the address the driver had been given. Buffy looked out the window to see a small ranch style house. It was light blue with tan edging. She quickly paid the cabby and gathered her black bag. It was small, only holding one change of clothes, one book, and a few stakes.

Her stomach felt heavy as she headed up the short walk towards the front door. The grass was neatly trimmed. There was a rosebush and a small garden that must have been tended to regularly for such beautiful flowers to bloom in such a dry climate.

Buffy stood at the tan door, lifted her arm to knock, then dropped it to her side. She sighed, lifted her hand again, balled it into a fist, and knocked.

She heard some shuffling behind the door, and a woman, easily in her fifties answered the door. "May I help you?" The woman's voice was light. Her graying black hair was pinned on top of her head into a bun. Her blouse was pink, and she wore beige slacks. Her face was wrinkled, but she contained a youthfulness in her eyes.

Buffy was struck with a thought. She looks young for her age. She should be 80, and she barely looks 50. Maybe she had the wrong woman?

"Are you Samantha Emerson,“ She cleared her throat before continuing. “Formerly Samantha the Vampire Slayer?"

Sam nodded.

"Buffy Summers?" the woman asked. Buffy's jaw dropped. "Your Watcher said...he called me a few days ago." Sam stepped aside, never actually speaking the words, but inviting Buffy in.

Buffy scanned the small living room as she stepped in. It was simple with a small TV in the corner, a couch against one wall, and a recliner in front of the television. There was an end table between the couch and chair. Pictures of what looked like a younger version of Samantha and a dark haired man were scattered on the walls along with some paintings of landscapes.

Buffy sat on the couch, and Sam took the recliner. "So Miss Summers, you are in love I hear?" Buffy nodded and began to speak, but was cut off by Samantha. "I wondered...one Slayer to another...how confused are you?"

"I am...or was, very confused. That was until Giles sent me your Diary." Buffy pulled out the book she brought with her. Sam's Diary.

After noting which book Buffy was holding, Sam stood up and went to the next room.

She reappeared with a book and handed it to Buffy. The current slayer read the title printed in gold. "Diary of Master Vampire Ashton, The Shunned." Buffy noted the symbol on the binding and looked up at the woman sitting comfortably on the recliner. "Is this...is this the Vampire you met in the ally? The one that old man was protecting from you?"

"Yes, and I'd like you to take that home with you. Make sure it goes back to the collection of Diaries they keep on all of us. After my Watcher was no longer needed to watch me, the Council forced him to turn over all of the Diaries. The Council hid this one well; it took me almost twenty years to find it. I gave it to him on our twenty-fifth anniversary." Sam blinked back a tear. "He died four years ago, and I'll be gone soon...I want him to be remembered." Sam was quiet.

Buffy let her hands feel the old leather. The paper was parchment. How it was in one piece she could never guess. "I wanted to ask you...I mean. God, I don't even know what I want to know." The young blonde's face twisted. "How did it happen? I mean, how did you fall in love with a Vampire?"

Sam let out a snort. "You should know as well as I do. To this day I still wonder how the heart of a Slayer could be drawn to a Vampire...but I was. And now you are. I'm not sure if there is an answer.”

A slight smile formed on the elder woman’s lips. “I know that Ashton was like no Vampire I had ever fought, none I'd even heard of. He was...good. He acted humanely. I always ran into him while fighting." Sam's head filled with forgotten memories. "I remember the second time I saw him. I was battling four Vampires at once. I was doing well, I thought. All of a sudden, a blur of black jumped in and staked two of them." She began to laugh a bit. "He never talked to me...just jumped in and helped, then left." Sam leaned forward a little. "That went on for months, then one day I got hurt. Pretty badly, too. It was the fourth...no, no...the fifth apocalypse I had to stop. I still have the scar." She rolled up a pant leg to reveal a long scar from her ankle to her knee. "He saved me that night. Took me to his one room flat and stitched me up himself." She let the pant leg fall back to its place.

"After that, it was strange. He started acting overprotective. Almost taking over Slaying.

He'd act like I was going to break. We ended up having an argument that turned into a fistfight. I knocked him out and when he woke up he blurted out how much he loved me."

Buffy sat and listened to the former Slayer's story unfold.

"For two weeks I avoided him, and he followed me. I felt when he was there. Nothing new to feel a Vampire's presence, I know. But I could feel that it was him. It was unnerving, to say the least." Sam paused to think.

"Then, one morning I was heading back to my flat, and there he was. I tried to walk away, but he wouldn't let me. I listened to him trying to convince me he loved me. Then he asked me to kiss him."

She looked into Buffy's eyes and continued. "It was a bet, you see. If I kissed him, and didn't feel anything, he would leave. God, I was scared. It's almost funny to think about it now. I wasn't scared of him. My fear was of myself. I already knew I cared about him. It's why I tried to avoid him." Sam fingered her wedding ring. "I lost the bet, I'm sure you guessed. After that, it was a matter of trying to keep our relationship a secret.”

Sam had the look of deep concentration on her face. “I knew...or at least I thought, that Crawford would kill Ashton himself if he knew what was happening. As the months wore on, there was no doubt I was in love with Ashton, and it was killing me."

Buffy looked up at those words. This she understood. Feeling how wrong it is all of the time. Your duty, your birthright all in question because your heart won't do as it's told. Hiding it from people, even yourself for as long as you can. Then nothing makes you feel better. Not even the love.

"I was dying inside. He couldn't tell, but I knew I was. I wanted to get away. My prayers were answered when our side truly began gaining ground. So many attacks were pushing back the human enemies, and brought the first signs of hope back into so many hearts that had given up. The sightings of Demons began to lessen, and I would be going home to America soon. I could get away from him..."

Sam gathered Buffy's hands in her own. "Don't let anyone tell you it's wrong. Don't let their opinion make you falter."

Buffy was pulled in by the intensity in her black eyes. "I won't." Buffy's shoulders went back in defiance. She felt stronger. "No, I won't."

Sam smiled. "When I was 23, I was called to receive Akoshta, although from what I hear from your Watcher, the experience those two Vampires have will be quite different."

"What happened when you went...and where did you go?" Buffy was finally remembering the questions she had set out to ask in the first place.

"To tell you the truth, I don't remember much." Buffy frowned. "It was like that both times I was gone. I remember feeling safe. Learning more about my purpose the first time...and being thanked the second time. I remember bits and pieces of the conversation I had, but not who it was with. I recall what I wished for the second time. I remember feeling that Ashton was close the second time.”

“When I was returned the first time, I found myself standing in front of the door to my home. The second time, I was lying next to Ashton in a London cemetery holding his hand, and his grasp was warm. He was human, and I was no longer a Slayer."

"But I'm still the Slayer. If they make Spike human...I am so confused." Buffy put her head in her hands and shook it. She sighed and looked up at Sam. "When they made him human...was it the Ashton you knew, or was it the soul he used to be?"

Sam nodded in understanding. "I see. You wonder if your Vampire will be himself if he becomes human." The former Slayer sighed. "The soul was released to rest. Ashton, the demon, was human. He was the man I fell in love with." Buffy smiled.

"After I returned home and told Crawford what had happened, he revealed to me the prophecy that foretold everything that had happened to me. He had already made false identification for Ashton, giving him his own last name. The rest, as they say, is history."

Buffy thought a moment, then a question came to her. "Did you ever have any kids?"

Sam's eyes became sad. "No, but it had to do with a medical problem...nothing to do with either of our previous lives." Buffy was quiet.

"What is it, Miss Summers?

Buffy had been trying to figure out the proper way to tell Sam that the Vampire she herself loved was the one, probably the last one, that had threatened the former Slayer.

"The night you were heading home, the night on the docks...you were approached by a Vampire, right?"

Sam was more than surprised. She had told her Watcher, in a letter, all about her final Vampire encounter. 'He must have added it to the Diary,' she thought.

"Yes. Of course, he couldn't attack. Actually what struck me was that after I told him I received Akoshta, and I wasn't the Slayer anymore, he didn't even try to disprove me. He just left. I thought he would at least lunge, which is very funny. Watching a demon frozen in place trying to figure out what's going on can be entertaining," she finished with a laugh.
Buffy couldn‘t help but join in. "Well, he better have some respect for it now. He's being tested, and he better pass or I'll stake him myself."

Sam raised an eyebrow at the blonde.

"Crazy isn't it?" Buffy exclaimed.

Sam shrugged. "May I see that?"

Buffy noticed she was pointing at the Diary sitting on top of her bag. "Sure," she said and handed it to her.

Buffy skimmed parts of Ashton's Diary while Sam perused her own.

Ashton was shunned in the late 1700's. Up until that time he had been a Vampire to fear.

There was no notation on how or what changed him, but there were several gaps in the
Diaries where he was either hiding or missing.

He had lived with the humans, and generally kept away from any demon communities. His life had been uneventful and quiet. Then he met Samantha. The notations in the Diary were also marked with a familiar symbol. That meant that not only had the Watcher known...but the Council knew. "The Council. They knew what was happening? Why didn't they try to stop it?"

Sam looked up from her book. This was one part of her story she had hoped to avoid. The memories of her Watcher were all good ones. Ones to cherish. Sam had no intention of sullying his good name, even for the benefit of another Slayer.

Buffy's Watcher, though, seemed much like Sam's had been. Loving, caring, almost fatherly. Deciding to tell her the truth, Sam revealed the only thing her Watcher had done against his, or her, training.

"Miss Summ-...Buffy, the Council did know, and they were hell bent to make sure it did not happen. The Council, with all their good intentions and knowledge, has one very large handicap. They could care less what happens to a Slayer, as long as she does her duty."

"No secret there, lemme tell you," Buffy agreed.

Smiling, Sam knew the truth would be best. "Crawford knew of the prophecy. Like your Watcher, he added the markings to the binding of both our Diaries himself. He gave the information to the Council after his discovery, with one alteration. The time the Vampire and I would be gifted." Sam's mischievous grin added a lilt to her words. "He added a few years to the date on the Calendar of Orta, where the prophecy originated. So by the Council's calculations...I wasn't supposed to be called to Akoshta until 1945."

Buffy began to put all the information together and laughed. "I think your Watcher and mine would have gotten along well, considering Giles hid Akoshta from...well, everyone.

Including the Council."

Sam's eyes widened...and she soon joined in the laughter.

Late afternoon was upon the day. Buffy and Sam had compared battle strategies and memories of their most interesting battles.

Samantha showed Buffy her wedding pictures. The ceremony had been small. Sam's simple white dress was knee length and had cap sleeves. Ashton stood a good seven inches above her dressed in a simple black suit.

"He insisted it be an outdoor ceremony," Sam remembered aloud. "Strange how much he loved the sunlight after being afraid of it for so long."

Buffy told Sam a little about Angel, how he was souled, shunned, lost his soul, re-souled, dead, undead, moved away, and now was being tested alongside his own grandchilde.

Sam was shocked, but listened intently. "I believe you must be a rare person, Miss Summers. You have managed to change the hearts of two Vampires. Rare indeed."

Buffy waved at Sam standing in front of the little house, until the cab was too far away to see the home. Dusk was creeping up on the town. The thought of riding the cramped bus home all night wasn't an inviting one, but she needed to get home as soon as possible.

At least she didn't need to go in to work until Monday. A weekend off never happened in the ragingly boring career of fast food.

Buffy paid the man driving the cab and walked into the bus depot. She showed the attendant her round trip ticket and was issued the return ticket. The blonde sat on a bench and waited for her gate number and destination to be called. People passed by her unnoticing. She scanned the groups for any undead out of habit, but all was quiet in the Carson City Bus Depot.

"Carson City to Sunnydale, California, Gate 4," A male voice called over the speakers.

Buffy stood in line and was finally able to board. As she stepped up, a familiar tingle in her spine ran up to the scruff of her neck. 'Vampire.' She turned and scanned the crowd below her, still waiting in line. A few people were giving her dirty looks, but none were Vampires.

Grimacing, Buffy continued onto the bus. As she sat, she peered out the window.

Something. There was something.

A few minutes passed and the feeling subsided. Buffy slowly drifted off to sleep just as the bus pulled out of the depot.

The Result

The demon continued her description of the rowdy, unthankful, unloving young man Liam had been. The truth of his life before unlife hurt. It wasn't the first time he had contemplated how different his life could have been if he had been the son his father had wanted, but it had been a long time since he really examined the young man he was.

If he had been the man his father wanted, Liam would have been a wealthy business man, with a wife, children, grandchildren... He could have died a happy old man.

"The Powers were very intuitive. They saw the Demon you were even before you were changed. Darla could see it that night."

Angel had to agree. He was a brute. The perfect vessel for a raging demon. "As you learned what you could do as a Vampire, the power engulfed your very being. Your entire mind was attuned to the artful destruction of humans. Their bodies and their minds."

Once again the memories from so long ago were pulled to the surface. The many weeks spent to take Drusilla's mind before finally turning her.

He killed her family off one by one. She fled to a convent. He still went after her...and eventually turned the innocent, insane seer. His own personal look into the future, his own little girl. Not that he was in any way a father figure to her. She was more lost in the dark world Angelus introduced her to than she had been in life in a world of light with visions that blasphemed God.

Angelus and Darla enjoyed the rare find of a seer, but she was more to handle than either of them felt a need to bother with.

With this in mind, Darla had encouraged Dru to find a mate. Or to be more exact, make one. So Drusilla did.

Enter William the Bloody. The bane of Angelus' unlife. Foolhardy and relentless, the young Vampire was obedient and loyal to his sire. Cocky and overbearing to his ancestors.

He lived for Drusilla. Unfortunately, she did not live for him, and Angelus reveled in this knowledge.

The little 'family' stayed together, wreaking havoc through Europe both together and on their own, until the Gypsies. Then Angelus, newly souled, was stranded in Europe. He was alone, helpless, unable to feed on humans without the guilt of killing flowing through his veins, along with the borrowed blood.

He followed his Sire to China, found her, and with more fervor than he thought he could muster, began working on convincing Darla he could be 'Angelus.' Here in China, where war raged day and night. Where people practically begged to be fed from.

The Slayer was, of course, there. Most Slayers followed war on instinct. This was where William the Bloody, now known as Spike, killed the Slayer. He was legend now, and by all rights could be called a Master. Angel's soul could not hide his pain at killing, his guilt from his past, or the fear of this unlife from Darla.

Darla soon tested her childe. She knew he had only been feeding off criminals, and even then he felt guilty. It was all too much, so he had turned to vermin, and she could smell the putrid blood in him. When the baby lying in the bassinet before him began to cry, his resolve faded. She left him alive, but he was alone.

Angel's head spun as he opened eyes he did not realize he had closed. A scowl crossed his face when his eyes met the demon. "Why do I have to see this again?! You just had me relive it?!" Angel stood stiffly.

Anger ran through his body, but he wouldn't attack and ruin his chance to pass whatever this particular test was about. There was a point. He just had to be patient, he hoped.

The demon walked up to Angel and grasped his arm lightly.

"These things, you think about them more than you admit to your friends, do you not?"

"Not as much as I did in the beginning, but I think about them." Angel became uncomfortable.

"Do you celebrate your human past? Do you remember with fondness the young woman Liam impregnated? Do you think happily of your father's disappointment with Liam's indirection?"

Angel hadn't really thought about Liam for a century, maybe more. "I can't really say. I don't remember his life." Angel paused. "I do know I regret the lives I ruined before I was turned. I do know that if I had a chance I would have done things differently than what I just saw."

The Vampire turned his back to the demon, and eyed the cavern's path. It was too dark to see if it led anywhere at all. "The truth is that after I was turned, Angelus killed them all because of the hatred Liam had for these people, but I don't hate any of them, and this," Angel pointed to his chest, "is Liam's soul."

His guide through Akoshta smiled. He was close to the answer. There would be one more test after this. And if things went well, he would move on to the next part of his journey back on the surface.

"Tell me, Angel, if that is Liam's soul, then why do you fight for good? From the visions I have seen, Liam would sooner take AI's petty cash and go to every pub within walking distance."

Angel thought about it. All of his past flew through him of its own accord this time. It was his mind now going through the devastation, the killing, the hatred, the pain, the loneliness...then calm. People, his friends, his family...his son, his responsibility. "I guess...I grew up somewhere along the way." He snickered at his own words. "A Vampire growing up. That would have to be a first."

The demon shook her head at Angel. "It was not the Vampire that grew up, Angel. Your own words state that."

"Liam?"

The demon nodded. "His soul, the very soul that ruled this body before being turned. You don't remember your human life. You are pure demon, even with a soul, and the demon blocks most of those memories after so many years. Very few are turned with more than negative recollections and some of their host's personality, both of which fade the longer the demon possesses a host."

Angel was becoming confused. Didn't she say earlier that Spike gained humanity? The demon caught Angel's train of thought and explained.

"He is rare. The demon, as I said, has been watched carefully. That is how the Powers knew time was short, and he needed to begin his transition as quickly as possible." She smiled at Angel. "You might like to know, he's not taking any of this news very well."

Angel smiled, then a realization crossed his mind. Here he was learning more about himself, and Spike, than he really wanted to know. What was Spike being told? "What's Spike here to learn?"

Taking a deep breath, she started, "He is here to be encouraged to stay on the path he has just begun, but should have been on for more than half a century."

Angel looked back confused.

"It's a very long story, and I do not wish to explain. I can tell you that your grand-childe would have been there with you in LA when you first saw the Slayer, and he would have fought by your side, and hers, from the first encounter with the Slayer."

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say," Angel shot back.

The demon decided to ignore his reaction and use this line of questions to finish the lesson. "For Spike, his entire life became uncertain because in one moment, he changed everything. All beings do this. You, however, changed-" She was cut off as Angel pieced the clues together.

"After 250 years of moments. All of those things that happened...they're what brought me here."

The tight skinned demon nodded. "All of those moments, all of your past. The death, the hate, all of it." She strode up to him and looked into his face. "This is now your life. Your choices were yours, and now this is where you belong. You have so much to give these people, the people you call family. First, you have to accept it, but not live with it. It is your past. The mark of a man is not who he was, but who he is now."

Angel mulled this over in his mind. Who he is now?

'Ok. Who am I now? I'm Angel...I'm a friend, I'm a father, I'm a warrior for good...yeah, I know this. This couldn't be the answer...no. Too easy.'

"I'm...the result. I'm not Angelus, not Liam. I'm Angel."

A quiet nod was her response. A smile crossed her face. "You have passed."

Protective

Buffy stood in front of her register counting the minutes she had left in her shift. Mondays were always the worst, but at least she'd had a nice day full of movies, snacks and general laid-backiness with Dawn yesterday. The only argument had been Janice's sleepover on the upcoming Friday.

Buffy finally relented to the fact that her baby sister should be allowed to act like any other teenager. The overprotective instinct from last year was just too hard to suppress sometimes.

The Slayer of Vampires, alarm clocks, and Doublemeat sandwiches took off her cap and called out to the woman currently managing the store. "7:00, can I clock out?"

"Buffy, um, did you wash the trays?" The aged blonde asked.

Buffy shook her head and walked to the oversized chrome sink. After completing her duties, she was finally allowed to escape. She sighed in relief as she walked into the fresh air of an oncoming dusk.

She quickly walked home and showered.

Dawn heard the shower running and stepped out of her room up to the closed bathroom door. "Buffy? That you?"

Buffy heard her sister's muffled voice through the shower's spray. "Dawn, wait till I'm out. I can't understand you."

"What, Buffy? I can't understand you!"

"Dawn, just wait a few minutes...I'll be out soon."

"What?" the girl yelled back at the door. "Whatever." With that, Dawn hopped down the steps in search of popcorn.

Buffy dried and dressed in record time. Decked out in black jeans and a red tank, she went down the stairs and found Willow and Dawn curled up on the couch watching MTV.

Willow rolled her eyes at the screen filled with five hopping boys repeating the words
"Bye, Bye, Bye" over and over again.

"They are sooo cool!" Dawn exclaimed.

Buffy fell into the couch next to Dawn. "Oh, yeah...the coolest," she said dryly.

"Oh, what? They are cool. Would you rather we listened to The Talking Heads, or maybe, a Spike CD...The Sex Pistols," the teen laughed at her own joke.

Willow watched the two. Sisters.

"No, I've got it...Billy Idol." Dawn jumped up and did her worst impression of Billy singing "Rock the Cradle of Love." She hopped up and down, brought her fist up, and curled her lip. Then she fell on the floor laughing.

Willow was giggling, and Buffy stood up shaking her head at her little sister. "No more sugar for you."

Buffy snatched the cola off the table while Dawn protested. "To Billy," Buffy said as she raised the can in a mock toast, then downed the cola left in the can.

"Jeez! Moody much?" Dawn yelled at her sister and got up. "I was trying to tell you there was only one can left. Now we're out," Dawn yelled while getting a glass of water from the kitchen.

Willow stood up. "Oh, I can go get it." She was desperate for a reprieve from boy band hell.

"No problem, Wills. I was going to patrol real quick. I can bring some home."

Dawn sat down and looked up at Buffy. "Are you going to go see if Spike is back yet?"

Buffy looked over at Willow. They had managed to keep the relationship between Buffy and Spike a secret from Dawn and Xander so far, but Dawn was picking up on something, and it was unnerving. "I'll be patrolling his cemetery just like the others. I might see him if he's back."

"Right," Dawn said with a hint of sarcasm that Willow caught, but Buffy missed as she grabbed her black jacket and left.

Buffy was almost finished, and not a Vampire, demon...not even a good old fashioned mugging.

Into 'his' cemetery she went. Nothing. No tingle. No nothing. "He's still gone," she sighed and finished the run through of the cemetery. Still no demons to slay. "You know...something to take my mind off of...well, everything, would be real good!" she yelled at the cemetery.

Still nothing.

Buffy started home feeling restless and cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and headed in the direction of the closest grocery store. After making her purchase of a twelve-pack of cola, she went home.

When she woke on Tuesday and realized she had slept through her alarm until 1:00, Buffy jumped up and threw the door open. "Dawn!" She ran to her sister's room and saw an empty and made bed. Willow came up the steps.

"Buffy, it's ok. I got her up and walked her to school myself this morning."

Buffy's tension melted from her instantly. "God, Willow. Thanks. I don't know how I could sleep so late. I never do this."

The redhead looked at her best friend sympathetically. "It's ok, Buffy. You've got a lot on your mind. I figured you hadn't been sleeping much lately. Thought you could use a little 'early wake-up call' break."

"Willow, thanks. I really am glad you're helping out with Dawn. She needs to know that it's not just me. That we all love her."

"We do," Willow said, smiling. Then she headed back down the stairs.

Buffy grabbed a quick shower and donned her uniform for the 3:00-closing shift.
Buffy looked at the reflection of herself in the bathroom mirror over the sink. "Another day...another dollar." Her shoulders slumped. "Joy."

In LA

"Duck!!" Wes yelled in Gunn's direction. A moment later the crossbow shot, and the Vampire behind a now crouched Gunn turned to dust. Wes turned stake in hand, to attack the one going for Fred.

Gunn had another one on him the moment he stood back up. Rolling to the ground so that he had the leverage, Gunn sank the stake hidden in his boot into the Vampire's heart. "Got another one!" Gunn stood and saw Wes dust the one holding Fred.

Fred screamed as one came at Wes from behind. Gunn ran to the discarded crossbow and shot the Vampire in the arm. "Damn!"

Fred screamed again, then saw the remnants of what used to be a cafeteria table. She grabbed a piece of wood and handed it to Wes's waiting hand. Just as the Vampire lunged, he was dust.

Wes, still holding the piece of wood, saw Gunn crouched fifteen feet from Fred and himself, holding an emptied crossbow, and a gleaming smile.

"I know...I'm good. You don't have to say it," Gunn said.

Fred ran to him and threw her arms around her boyfriend.

Wes thanked Gunn and noted the condition of what used to be a warehouse. "I think it's clear. That leaves us one more for tomorrow night."

The couple was happy there was one left. The only reason Wes had left his office since Angel went off was to clear the new Vampire nests. Once they were done, they were afraid Wes would lock himself up with the scrolls and books again.

~~`~~

Tuesday Afternoon, London, England, Offices of the Council of Watchers

"Rupert Giles," a female voice called him. The small brunette secretary motioned that Quentin Travers was ready to see him. He stood, walked over, and opened the door to the private office of the Head of the Council.

"Rupert, thank you for coming." The elder man motioned towards the chair, but Giles didn't take it. "I realize we have not invited you for some time since you came home. I would like to rectify this and offer you a position here that would allow you to be central in the workings of the Council."

Giles was not as stunned as his face looked. He had been expecting something like this.

The request Buffy made had allowed him to push into a confused crowd of 'green' Watchers, and slip a package in unnoticed. The sad thing was, they really did need someone, in his opinion. Someone to properly train a Watcher to be a human being. All of the drones in training had just stacked books in the crates. No questions asked.

Idiots.

He had once been one himself, Wesley, too. Now that the true world, and all the monsters that used it as a playground, had become real and not just lessons, they were drones no longer.

The truth in this came when he himself first found the prophecy. Then in convincing Wes not to share the information he came upon. After that day, he was sure to hide the precious information more thoroughly.

Buffy had found it nonetheless, and had made a very interesting request of the Council.

One that Giles was made aware of due to his large collection of Diaries, and took advantage of.

Now here he stood. In front of the man who had no answers to one question.

Why?

Why would a Slayer ask for information on all the Slayers and all the Vampires? Such a brash request was unheard of. Even worse, this man thought Giles would help him find out.

Buffy's short call to thank him, tell him she was keeping the Diaries of both Ashton and Sam, and tell him once more that she loved him was a welcomed one.

Quentin's call had been very disturbing. Mostly because Quentin had called him himself instead of asking someone to call for him.

"So, Rupert, what do you say?"

Giles was pulled out of his thoughts. "What? Ah, yes. Well I would have to say, no. I quite enjoy my current assignment."

"Documenting demons is for the newly trained, not someone who's been out there. You had your charge. Now is the time for you to relax, enjoy the privileges being a retired Watcher can have."

Giles refused to think of himself as retired, not as long as Buffy lived. The work he did was important. He had seen most of the demons the Council's books identified, but there was so much more that hadn't come from books. The books themselves needed updating, and who else better to do it but him? He'd seen first-hand so much more than what was in a most of the texts.

There was that, and there was his need to never help the Council ever again hurt his Slayer. "I am sorry, Quentin," he lied, "but I really feel my work should be done before I take any new position. You must understand, finishing what one starts is very important."

Quentin came around from behind his desk. "Rupert, something is happening with Miss Summers. She made that rather odd demand for a large amount of records."

Giles nodded.

"Yes, then the following day, she requests we pick them up?"

Giles couldn't hide his amused look. "Well, I would say that she is playing games with you a bit there, Quentin."

The man who was technically his boss, but who had lost all control over him after putting Buffy and her friends through ridiculous interviews and reviews, glared at Giles. "I know you must have some idea what it is. She is looking for something, Rupert.“

Buffy's former Watcher looked directly at Quentin. "Don't you think if I knew anything I would have given her answers before she had to resort to calling you?" Taking off his glasses and tucking them into the breast pocket of his dress shirt, he continued. "The problem you have here is not that something is going on. It's that if there is something going on and you don't know what it is, you can't get control of it."

Quentin stepped back from Giles. Fear showed plainly on the man's face. Giles made no aggressive moves towards the older man, but the face looking on was that of the Ripper in all ways.

"I would have thought you'd learned your lessons the last time, but I welcome you to question her. Call her now." The calm, challenging voice emanated from Ripper with an easy coolness.

Quentin looked at the man, remembering the young man who had been so promising. 'Such a shame,' he thought.

Glasses places squarely on his nose, Ripper calmed and Giles emerged once more. "So, you have my answer." He turned to leave, then shot over his shoulder, "Good luck. You will be needing it." Then he shut the door.

Peas in a Pod?

Spike stood sullenly in the darkness. He'd been contemplating his place. He was where he should be. It was all going to lead to something, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it.

He thought it was peculiar. The hot chocolate Joyce always made was delicious. He really missed Joyce. It was odd when it would hit him how much he missed her. Like now. In the middle of another realm. His unlife being tested.

Where he really wanted to be was at the Summers' home sitting in the kitchen with Joyce, Buffy, Niblet, and some hot cocoa. With the little marshmallows, of course. Most importantly, Buffy was happier then, too.

Buffy.

Now there was another problem.

A Slayer.

Her strength was overwhelming at times. Not the muscular but the resilience in her. Even now when she could barely deal with the life handed to her. Determination to do her duties, whomever they were for, was instilled so deeply.

Hence the problem. She shouldn't 'feel' for him. She couldn't even throw out the 'soul' excuse like she had with Angel. Spike looked from the ground into hazel eyes. "Ok, I can accept the fact that I am supposed to be working for good," he paused, "but with the Slayer?"

Buffy's head nodded. "Yes, with the Slayer, and her Scoobies."

"Right. The Scoobies, too." Spike thought about that for a moment. "Does that include the whel-...Xander?"

She laughed then sighed. "Yes, William, even Xander. I know the boy is difficult. He is also the first to have saved the life of a Slayer after her death. He is important to the battles she wages."

"He saved her? When?" Spike was unable to believe her.

The demon then revealed the first of Buffy's deaths to the Vampire. "The Slayer was destined to die by the hand of The Master. She decided to go after him anyway. He drank from her, and when she fell, it was into the pool of water. She drowned."

Spike's fear was evident, despite the knowledge that she was alive now.

"A few moments later, the boy and your grand-sire came in. The boy gave her breath; the Vampire could not." Spike was taken aback.

"The whelp, as you like to call him, has fought with her from the beginning. His loyalty and resilience is born from strength of character, of courage, love, and humanity. Not many like him have the chance to help save the world, and most who do would flee before standing against the evils no longer hidden."

Spike was pacing again. 'Now what...I'm supposed to go back and thank the biggest pain in my ass since the chip? For what? Always being there?' That's what bugged Spike the most. The guy was always there.

The annoyed vampire paced more, and the demon watched.

'He is quite good looking, for a Vampire.'

She watched the duster billow around him as he turned to continue his pace. Confusion on his face, he was mumbling quietly. 'Ranting,' she thought.

For the first of the three tests, he had done very well. Maybe not as well as she had hoped, but well enough to move on. He will be fighting with the Slayer. Now for the rest of the group. He had made it clear earlier that the rest were in no danger, but not mentioning Xander had been intentional.

The Vampire hated the boy too much to feed from him. The problem was, he just plain hated the boy. She had to make him see the boy's importance.

"Alright," he finally said.

To her disappointment, he was not acquiescing. "Let's just say I am nice to the...Xander. What then? We'll all be best buddies? The boy hates me with as much conviction as I despise him." He stood there waiting with a freshly lit smoke clenched between thumb and forefinger. "I've spent more 'an two years helping that little gang...one year for free. Still nothin'. No thanking Spike. Just a lot more time for games of 'kick the Spike'."

"If his hate is matched with yours...then you'll have to get over it," she spat, sounding once more like Buffy.

"Would you cut that out? This is strange enough without having to deal with you lookin' and soundin' like 'er."

Spike leaned against the wall across from screen and watched as her skin tightened and became an odd combination of grey and blue, and was then covered with brilliantly colored blue robes. Spike took a long drag and watched with interest. He scanned her and felt more at ease.

"Appreciated," he said.

She walked to him. "Taking the form of that which connects is to put you as ease. If the effect is not reached, then the reality is preferred." She smoothed out her robes. "So tell me, William-"

"That's another thing," he interrupted. "Spike. The name is Spike. Not William, not Billy. Spike. Alright?"

"Very well, Spike. Tell me, what will you do?" She cocked her head and waited for an answer.

"About what?" Spike asked. She raised a dark eyebrow questioningly. "Oh, about Xander." Spike looked as though he was setting himself up for another good pacing, then turned to the woman. "He really saved her?" She nodded. "He will always be there, but he has to be?" She nodded again. "Will he save her again?"

Straightening herself up, the demon answered. "He saves her without even knowing it. They all do. The strength the Slayer has gotten from each of them has saved her even more times than your demon has taken a body. She is the longest living active Slayer in history. You told her yourself why."

Spike recalled the night. The second most painful night of his life, the top of the list being the night he saw her lifeless body lying on the bricks that had unceremoniously broken her fall.

She was alive now, though. And why? Red, Tara, the ex-demon, and Xander. Spike would never have allowed them to try, but every day he thanked any entities that would hear his silent words. "Thank you for my Slayer." If he could just keep that inside him around the Scoobies.

"You do have it inside you. All of the time. You refuse to let them see, but it is there. You thank the earth for giving her back. You thank the night for letting you see her. You thank her for being your light. You have to forgive them for risking it, and thank them for bringing her back."

She began to wonder if it would ever sink in. "Do you think they could have brought back a spirit as pure as the Slayer's without the blessing of the Powers?"

"Well, Red's getting to be a mighty powerful witch." Spike was getting nervous. He reached into his pocket and brought out his pack of cigarettes, noted the five left, and shoved it roughly back. 'Been here at least 3 hours. Gonna be daylight soon,' he thought, took another long pull from the one still gripped to tightly in his fingers then dropped the smoke and stomped it out.

"I tell you now that without help from The Powers That Be, Buffy would never have come back. She was destined to do so much more before her duties as Slayer were relinquished to another." She walked up to Spike and took his cool strong hands into her thin warm ones. "She is in limbo now. Too many things are piling on her, and she has yet to make realizations that need to be reached before she can move further down her path."

She gripped his hands tighter.

"This is very important. She needs you. She needs her friends. She needs her sister. Only the full force of all who surround her will eventually save her. Help her to understand why she is here. Help her to accept the life that has been given back to her."

Spike took a step back, letting the demon's hands fall from his. He ran his hand through his heavily gelled hair. "Ok. I swear now, we'll all get along like peas in a pod. She'll be fine. I swear.” For her he’d find a way. “I swear."

It wouldn't be that easy. She knew that, but the idea was implanted now. That's what was needed. "Very good, Spike."

Spike looked up from the corner of his eye with some trepidation. "So, how'm I doin'?"

"Better than expected," The demon replied honestly.

Killing Time

In LA

Gunn ran through the doors of the hotel, shopping bag in hand. "Got 'em!"

"Thank God," Fred said while trying to quiet Connor. "He's soaked."

Gunn fished a diaper out of the 24-pack of diapers. Moments later the baby was quiet and sleeping soundly.

"I still can't believe we ran out," Gunn said while placing the package with the other numerous baby supplies kept behind the counter. "I could have sworn there was a full supply down here." He pushed aside the bag used the previous night to hold the weapons that had oddly been set right next to the infant care items.

There behind the bag was an unopened package of diapers. "And here they are," he said as he set it on the counter for Fred to see from the lobby.

She shook her head. "Well, at least now we have extra?" she asked apologetically.

He chuckled, "Yeah."

"So, kiddies, what's on the agenda for today?" Lorne asked while coming down the steps.

"We just need one or two cases to keep us busy. I don't know about you, but just sitting here all day waiting to find out how Angel does with this Akoshta deal is buggin' the hell outta me." Gunn shoved the black case of weapons back on the shelf under the counter.

"So far, nothing. I think the only thing we're doing is clearing out the last nest tonight,"

Fred answered.

As she finished her sentence, a tall figure wearing a black robe with a green sash came through the door. The figure's head was covered by the cloak's hood, pulled too low over the face.

Gunn, still behind the counter, grabbed a knife and pulled his arm behind his back before coming around to greet the figure.

"Welcome to Angel Investigations," Fred sang. "Can we help you?"

The figure stopped just in front of the group and lifted its head. Revealed was a red skinned woman. She was crying. "I think, I think I might have a problem."

"That's why we're here, honey," Lorne replied. "Why don't you take a seat and tell us all about it." He motioned to the plush chair and sat on the couch adjacent to the woman.

Sunnydale

By Tuesday night, Anya was going insane. It had been four very long days of trying not to let the secret slip. So far she had managed, but each day she wished Buffy would just tell him herself. The sooner the better.

"An, what's wrong?" Xander called from the kitchen.

Xander had been telling her about his day. There was something in the story, and she was supposed to comment, but she hadn't been listening. "I'm sorry Xander. I have many things on my mind. It's making it difficult to concentrate."

Xander walked into the living room where Anya was sitting, and sat beside her. "Is it something I can help with?"

Anya knew she couldn't tell. She wanted to so badly. It was hurting her almost, to just sit here and wait for Xander to either find out, or be told. She finally decided a lie would be best. "Just some ordering I have to do tomorrow. I'm trying to take a mental stock, so that it will go more quickly." She put on the best fake smile she could muster.

Xander looked at her a moment. She seemed off. But he couldn't figure out what it was.

Maybe she just needed some time alone. "Why don't I go out, maybe see if I can give
Buffy a hand with some patrolling. Would that help?"

She didn't have to worry about Buffy and Xander anymore. Not since Buffy was pining over Spike now. And maybe this would give Buffy the opportunity to finally tell Xander about her and Spike. Plus, if Xander wasn't here, she couldn't accidentally let it slip. He wouldn't get hurt. Buffy had already complained that the demons 'must be on vacation.'

"I think that would help." Anya stood up and got Xander's jacket from the chair he had laid it on when he came home earlier. She held it up for him.

"Now?" Xander stood up. "I mean, sure, now. OK." He kissed her and went through the door of their apartment.

Anya fell back into the cushions of the couch. "Buffy...please tell him??" Anya pleaded to her ceiling.

~~`~~

"Xander," Buffy began, "I know this whole thing with me and a Vampire didn't work out real well the first time." Buffy took a deep breath. "But Spike can't loose his soul. He
doesn't have one." Buffy stood up from the sarcophagus and yelled to the empty crypt,

"Oh, yeah! That'll convince him!"

Buffy had been sitting in the musty crypt for almost an hour trying to figure out how to tell one of her best friends that his worst nightmare had come true. She was in love with yet another Vampire.

There was the whole 'it's destined by a prophecy' angle, but how many times had things been destined, and they had stopped it?

'Ok, maybe that angle then. Spike has helped us do just that. He's helped us save the world more than once. He even helped that whole summer, thinking he'd never see me again.'

"Alright." She walked towards the crypt door, and out into the cemetery a woman sure of her convictions. "That settles it. Next time I see him, I tell him," Buffy said resolutely while continuing her patrol.

"Tell who what?" Xander ran up beside his friend and noted the crypt she was walking away from. "You gonna tell Spike to leave town again? It never works, you know." Xander matched Buffy's furious pace with some difficulty, but kept up. "I mean, how clear do you have to make it to him? He's not wanted."

Buffy eyed her friend. 'God, he hates Spike with a passion. Ok, maybe I'll tell him another time. He is so not in the mood for this kind of news.' "You know, Xand, Spike has been helping. I mean, he's volunteered to help me patrol. Actually, I think he watches the news for things I might go check out, but still, he's always willing to help." Buffy kept walking through the cemetery, eyes ahead, not looking at Xander.

"Well, yeah, maybe. But if he does help, it's just so he can look like he's helping. He's just trying to get on your good side so you might...you know...like him." Xander sniggered to himself. "That is just so sad."

Buffy continued. She couldn't even look him in the eye. There was never going to be a way to break this to him and not have her best friend go ballistic. The more she thought about it, the harder it was.

She stopped in her tracks and turned to Xander. "I have something I want to tell you."

Xander stopped with her and looked down to her face. "What is it Bu-"

Xander was knocked off his feet suddenly. A large fledgling was crawling over Xander's fallen form fighting to get to his neck.

Buffy pulled a stake from her sleeve and plunged it into the back of the Vampire. She barely had time to see it turn to dust when another attacked her from the side. A female this time, and not a fledgling.

"I just made him, damn it!! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good mate?" The dark haired woman let her demon come forth and attacked Buffy head on.

Buffy punched the Vampiress in the chin, then kicked her in the gut.

Buffy felt the kick to her face just as she saw the boot coming. The Slayer flew onto her back, then jumped up. The two women circled each other.

Buffy took a step back. The Vampiress stepped forward to close the gap just as Buffy stepped forward again and kicked the demon's legs out from under her. The Vampiress was now on her back. Buffy straddled her. "I have a very, very clear idea of what it's like."

The stake hit its target with ease, and Buffy was left sitting on her feet. Xander walked to her and held his hand out for his friend.

Buffy looked at his hand, and refused it. She stood and looked over at her friend.

"Xander?"

The brunette was a little hurt she hadn't accepted his hand to stand up. "Yeah, Buff?"

"Let him try. Let Spike help." And she walked in the direction of her home.

He shook his head and wondered what was up with the women in this town lately.

NOW!

The demon was happy things were going so well. The last of his lessons would be simple.

The feelings were there. He recognized them. He now needed to be encouraged to act upon them.

Angel waited. He'd been here for hours, and he was doing well. If he could get through the last of his tests, soon he'd be on his way home.

"How long have you been in love with her?" The question came from nowhere.

Angel saw the demon waiting for an answer. "Buffy? From the first time I saw her."

"No, not the Slayer. You will always have love for her. I am speaking of the Seer."

"Oh." Angel looked at the ground. The dirt was easily pushed into a little pile as he shuffled his feet. "Awhile," was his only response.

"I see. Why have you not acted on it?"

Angel's face fell. It was obvious. "I can't...I can't give her what she deserves." The demon waited for more, but nothing else was said.

"What can't you offer? You have a home. You have love. You have much to offer. What do you believe is the problem?"

Angel felt empty. "It doesn't matter anyway. She's got Groo now. I even gave her the money so she could go be with him. Hell," Angel threw his hands in the air, "I even got that magical contraceptive just so she could...keep her visions."

Angel turned his back on the demon guide. "Is that my last lesson? To figure out I can't have Cordelia? I already know that." Angel slumped against the wall and slid to sit on the dirt floor.

'Maybe this won't be as easy as I thought.' She watched the defeated form of the dark Vampire.

He was unmoving. Hands holding his head. She walked over to him and sat on the ground beside him. "Did you ever give her a chance?"

Angel almost laughed. "A chance to what? Become celibate?"

Angel picked himself up off the floor and began walking through the cavern, away from the room he'd been in earlier. The guide followed. "I left Buffy because she'd never have a normal life with me. Now I'm back where I was three years ago. No way to love. No way I can live with myself for letting her love me."

He stopped mid-stride. "Of course I didn't give her a chance. In the end, I'd just have to leave. I can't do it. Not again." Angel began his walk once more.

The demon walked behind him for awhile, letting the Vampire's thoughts penetrate her mind. Then something struck her. A magical contraceptive...for her visions. "Angel, I am confused."

Angel stopped again and turned to look behind him. "What don't you get? I have one moment of happiness, I become Angelus, Angelus kills Cordy. Not really my idea of a healthy relationship."

"But, you just said there was a contraceptive to stop the magics that would transfer the visions to Groo. Why wouldn't that work on your soul?" This had not been her plan of attack, but this was better.

Angel turned his head to the side and thought. "It's a different kind of magic." Angel looked over the demon. "Isn't it?"

"For that answer, you'll have to ask the person who makes it. It seems to me, if there is magic enough to hold back a prophecy, it would stand to reason there would be one to stop a curse."

Angel looked back at the demon. "I need to go. Now!" Angel stated plainly. The demon didn't move.

"I need to go home...Now!" His glare was intense.

The demon raised her arms and spoke. "Akoshta. May the Powers watch over you."

~~`~~

Buffy walked into The Magic Box after her shift was over. She didn't even bother to change clothes, and the stench of the Doublemeat clung to her.

Anya had called her at work and told her there was an emergency, and to come over as soon as she was done with her shift. With that in mind she knew no one was dying or being attacked, But with Buffy‘s one track mind lately there was only one other thing she could think of except lost cash, that would cause the ex-demon distress.

"Thank God!" Anya ran over to Buffy as she strolled in. "This is so bad."

"You told Xander about Spike?"


"No, I haven't. That's the problem. I'm losing my mind, Buffy! It's very uncomfortable. I want you to tell him. Call him at work." Anya ran behind the counter and tried to hand Buffy the phone. "Please call him. After he came home last night, all he could do was complain about having to let Spike help. Even though we all hate him. You included. I swear, Buffy, one more day and I'm going to need one of those padded rooms they always show on TV."

Buffy couldn't help but giggle. Anya was so animated sometimes. "Anya...one more day. I promise. I would rather tell Dawn and Xander at the same time, and with everyone else here, including Spike. Moral support. OK?"

Anya frowned, hung up the phone, and stared down the Slayer. "One more day. After that Spike will either be here and you'll tell, or he won't be and I do." Anya wasn't asking she was threatening. She stepped back behind her counter and began counting the till for the day.

"Ok, Anya. I'm going home now." Buffy headed for the door.

"You may want to shower," Anya spoke plainly.

"Big part of the plan," Buffy sang as she exited the shop.

~~`~~

Another quiet night. Last night was the most action she'd seen in the town in almost a week. It was like the demons knew she had better things on her mind than Slaying.

She tried to keep her mind off of him, but it was like trying not to remember that tomorrow is your birthday. It was an odd comparison, but felt true. Tomorrow, when Spike came back, she wanted to tell him, tell everyone, that it was ok. That it was happening. Tell him she was sorry for...everything.

But the hours were passing so slowly. One shift at work lasted forever. The patrol was never-ending. She still had two more cemeteries to clear before she could go home and pretend to sleep.

She crossed the familiar path to Spike's crypt and entered. This had become a secret ritual, stop and practice telling Xander about Spike.

Dawn, she knew, wouldn't fight with her. She loved Spike as it was. Xander. Oh, God.

"Maybe we could do a spell?" She rethought that. "Not likely. Spells bad."

She started her mock speech standing in the center of the musty crypt. "Xander, I know how you feel about Spike. What you don't know is, I love him. I don't know when or how it happened. At first, I thought I was just lonely, and that I needed to feel something other than worry and responsibility."

She paused and turned to face the candle strewn wall with confidence. "I didn't know what to do. I knew, and even now I know, that I am The Vampire Slayer. That hasn't changed, but I have. He has. And we aren't the first ones. I don't know how to explain this so it will be ok with you, but I swear, I have to be with him. I love him. I can't change that. I tried. I tried not to, but I do."

Buffy took a breath. "Well, I think that one's the best so far." She smiled, and left to finish her patrol.

That night, Buffy finally had an un-fitful sleep.

~~`~~

"So," Spike started, "what we got goin' next? Do I have to call Giles dad? Cuz that would be just the perfect ending to a perfect day."

"No more tests, Spike, but you need to see something." The screen reappeared behind him. "You and your grand-sire have been tested. I can tell you now, you both have passed." Spike's smile was wide and bright as the chuckle came forward.

Happy. He was happy.

His guide directed the peroxide blonde to look over to the screen. There before him stood the Slayer, boarding a bus. "Where's she going?"

"Home."

Spike looked over to the demon. "Where's she been?"

"She left to speak with the very Slayer you tried to kill that night in New York." The scene showed Buffy, stepping up the first step onto the bus. Spike looked in awe. He felt like it'd been weeks since he'd last seen her. Buffy looked back into the crowd.

"There's a Vampire there. She can sense it," Spike said. "She'll be ok, won't she?" He looked pleadingly at the demon.

"She senses a Vampire. She senses you watching her." Spike's shock was plastered on his face. A gray finger pointed at the woman, now seated, looking out the bus window.

"I know she can tell it's me from across the street...but from here? Wherever here is?"

“She senses a presence.”

The screen's picture faded to two figures walking through, what Spike called, his cemetery. There was Xander walking with Buffy. She looked very serious as she walked with Xander.

"What's wrong? What's she saying to him?" Spike was almost frantic.

"I will allow it." The demon passed her hands over his ears in a swift motion.

"You know, Xand, Spike has been helping. I mean, he's volunteered to help me patrol. Actually, I think he watches the news for things I might go check out, but still, he's always willing to help," Buffy said.

"Figured that out, did she?" Spike smiled despite himself.

The Vampire watched and listened. Buffy was getting ready to tell Xander something, and it sounded like it had to do with Spike, then a Vamp jumped on Xander's back. "Bloody perfect!" Spike proclaimed.

He watched as Buffy staked the Vampire and was attacked herself. "Oh for...this is just ridiculous." Spike looked over at the demon. "That's Erica...turned her the second time I went to Sunnydale. Right after I got rid of 'the Annoying One.' She always was more trouble than she was worth." He looked back at the screen.

"I just made him, damn it!! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good mate?"

A fight ensued on the screen. Soon Buffy was on top of the Vampiress. "I have a very, very clear idea of what it's like." Then there was just Buffy.

Xander came over; she got up, then said the strangest thing to her friend. "Let him try. Let him help."

And she left.

Spike looked over at the demon. "What was 'at all about?"

She looked over at him. "Do you want to know?"

The Vampire smirked. "Well, yeah. The reason I asked."

She directed him to the screen once more. Now the inside of his crypt was plainly in view.

Buffy walked in, clad in black leather pants, black tank, and the black jacket. The very outfit that the demon had been wearing when he arrived.

She stopped in the middle of the room and took a breath. Spike held his breath as he listened to his Slayer confess her love to the air, to the room, to the candles.

Unmoving, eyes wide, Spike spoke quietly to himself. 'This...this is what I wish for. This moment.' He paused at the sight. Buffy loved him.

"I'm leaving now." Spike had no intention of asking if this was ok. "I said, I am going. I will keep my promises, but I have to go. NOW!"

The demon nodded. "It has been a pleasure, Spike." She lifted her arms. "Akoshta. May the Powers bless and watch over you."

In Waiting

Somewhere in the middle of the dessert

Angel's head throbbed. He tried to sit up, but he felt every muscle in his body protest.

Slowly, he brought himself up into a sitting position, and noted he was parked where he last remembered he had been heading. There was sand for as far as the eye could see in every direction.

He tried to remember what had happened. Had he already been there and back? No one else was around, and daylight was coming.

The sun was just beginning to rise when he remembered the polish he picked up before he had left. He began smearing the windows haphazardly, using a wad of tissues. By the time the sun reached his car in all its strength and deadliness, he was behind darkened glass.

The Vampire was hungry, and looked beside him at the small cooler he'd brought with him. Before he opened the lid more than an inch, he could smell that the blood inside was bad, and closed it quickly. Looking around his car for some magical blood to appear, which it didn't, he noticed an envelope on the car's dashboard.

Angel tore open the envelope, unfolded the paper, and read.

"Vampire, the Powers watch over you. You have been tested and found worthy of the gifts awaiting you. It is up to you. Your life is yours, and the choices you make are your own. Intelligence and instinct will guide you now. Let your love be freed, and let those who would, love you."

Angel reread the short letter.

A feeling of confidence washed over him. He knew that his mission was important, the feeling that he belonged with his son, his friends and his family. The memory of Cordy.

Then one voice repeated itself. "Why have you not acted on it? Magic enough to stop a prophecy...one to stop a curse."

Angel shook his head. "Great, now I'm hearing voices." He looked over the letter again. "…let those who would, love you." His brow furrowed. "They can't mean..." The voice came through once more. "…one to stop a curse."

Angel quickly turned over the engine with a twist of his car key. The car started easily, and he headed in the direction of a brothel he had only been in once.

In LA

Fred descended the steps slowly Thursday morning as she scanned the lobby. Angel wasn't there. She wasn't sure why she would expect him to be. It was early. Not even 6 A.M. yet, but she looked nonetheless.

Wes's office door was open. She peered in and it was empty. "Good," she stated. An empty office meant that he had gone home to sleep, and he needed it.

She headed for the coffee maker and thought about the last few days. The demon woman had simply needed a reading from Lorne. Not nearly as exiting as the group had hoped.

Gunn and Fred both drove through the seedier parts of town looking for stray Vampires who might have gotten away from the nests they had cleared out. All in all, a little too average with all that was going on.

Without Cordelia or Angel, it just wasn't the same at Angel Investigations. The days seemed too long. Research only kept you busy when there was something to research. Fred even tried to find more on Akoshta, but there wasn't anything on the 'net or in the books that was of any help. No new information.

The general consensus of both groups was that the tests were for the Vampires' futures, not for an immediate wish or gift.

Willow and Fred had been e-mailing each other with short messages, "Nothing new, he hasn't come back," every evening.

The young woman set up her computer, and checked the e-mails sent to AI. Nothing out of the ordinary, a few questions she could research, one request for a Vampire's fangs. She hated those. She pulled a pad of paper over so she could take notes easily, and began researching the questions and requested information of the e-mails.

Sunnydale

Anya was dressed and making waffles when Xander staggered into the kitchen Thursday morning.

"Hey, An, what's the occasion?" Xander walked over and wrapped his arms around his soon-to-be bride.

"It's Thursday!" She turned around and kissed him warmly.

Xander happily let her. Then an idea came to him. "I could be a little late if you want?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She promptly frowned. "Or not." He loosened his grip and took a small step back.

Anya tried to cover up what had to be the 100th almost-slip in the last five days. "It's just that, shirking one's responsibility to keep our capitalistic government running is not responsible."

She placed a cooked waffle on the plate and covered it with powdered sugar. "Besides, tonight we could play the demon hunter game you like. I'll let you vanquish me." This time, she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Xander took the plate. "Only if you promise." He kissed her quickly and sat at the table.
Anya breathed a sigh of pure relief and went back to the batter. It was going to be a long day.

LA

Wes's alarm clock went off at 7:00 Thursday morning. He groggily hit the off button and sat up. Leaning over he found his glasses on his nightstand. "Seventh day," he said, pushed himself off of the mattress, and headed for the bathroom.

After he was showered, dressed, and had his cup of tea, Wes gathered up the small pile of books he would be looking over at work, and headed out the door.

Sunnydale

Dawn walked out of the bathroom, dressed and ready for school. She walked up to Buffy's door to make sure she was awake. There was some noise coming from inside. It sounded like she was having another nightmare.

"Spike!" Buffy screamed behind the closed door.

"She's having a dream about fighting Spike?" Dawn asked herself. "Jeez, she must really like kicking his butt." The girl frowned.

"Mmmm...Spiiikke." Buffy moaned.

Dawn's face crinkled in confusion. Then a wide grin covered her face, "Ooooh," and she decided she'd go have breakfast before she woke her sister.

Willow opened her door just in time to hear one more moan of "Spike" from behind Buffy's door, and see the back of Dawn's head as she headed down the steps.

The redhead stepped out of her room and knocked lightly on Buffy's door. A few more knocks later, Buffy opened the door. "Oh, hey, Wills. I'm up. Don't worry."

Willow looked behind her down the hallway. "I think Dawn heard you this time."

Buffy ran her hand through her rumpled hair and straitened her pink nightshirt. "Heard me what?"

Willow raised an eyebrow. "Heard you...dreaming...about...you know...Spike?" Buffy's eyes went wide. She peered past her friend into the empty hallway.

"You guys can hear...I mean, I'm talking?" Fear and embarrassment were clear on Buffy's face.

"I wouldn't really call it talking. More like, moaning. Sometimes screaming."

"Oh, God." Buffy suddenly dreaded walking her sister to school.

Inside Spike's Car

"Ohbloodyhell!" the blonde Vampire slurred loudly in the car. His head felt like he'd punched the whelp.

Spike tried to push himself into a sitting position, but his entire body ached. He slumped into the seat, and promptly fell back to sleep inside his Desoto as the sun climbed.

LA

Gunn came through the doors of The Hyperion just before 9:00 and scanned the lobby for Angel. Like Fred had done when she came down the steps, and Lorne had done as he came down with Connor, and just as Wes had done before going back to his office.

"Not back?" he called to the green demon sitting on the check-in counter of the hotel, flipping through the pages of GQ.

"Not yet, but I think he may have done alright," Lorne answered when he slid off the counter's top. "Connor's been cooing happily all morning."

Fred came from behind the desk. "Connor always coos in the morning, Lorne." Lorne just nodded.

Gunn looked at the demon. "Are you 'reading' Connor?"

Lorne looked shocked. "Reading a baby? Too much future in them. Gives me a headache to try, but I am getting a seriously invigorating vibe off the little guy today."

Fred looked down at the baby, who seemed to have discovered the fascination that is one's feet. Holding one foot in each hand the baby began flapping his arms. "He looks like he's fighting his feet," Fred giggled.

"Who's winning?" her boyfriend asked.

Sunnydale

Anya unlocked the door to The Magic Box and flipped the Open/Closed sign over to advertise the store was now Open. After the lights were on, and the specials of the day were marked, she settled herself behind the counter, and sat impatiently.

Willow walked in at twenty after 9 A.M., and scanned the empty store. "Anya?" A blonde head popped up.

"Over here." Anya looked over at Willow. "Oh, it's only you."

"Nice to see you, too." She set her bag on the counter and sat on the stool.

Anya heard the sarcasm. "I'm sorry. It's just, all the waiting. Why can't Spike just get here so Buffy will tell Xander, and I can go back to not feeling all icky for hiding things from him?"

The former witch studied the ex-demon's pout. "Well, look at the bright side. You won't have to hide anything from him today. He'll be at work." Anya perked up a little, so Willow continued. "And by the time he gets off work, Spike will probably be here, and Buffy will tell him. OK?"

"Yes, I think that would work out best for me. Let's do that."
The redhead shook with amusement. No one had been all that comfortable hiding the

relationship from Xander or Dawn. It had to be worse for Anya, though. She had to see Xander every day and probably listen to rants on Spike's evilness in general.

"Either way," Anya began to state, "Buffy said she would tell tonight...even if Spike wasn't back. She said Thursday." Anya turned to the calendar beside the phone and pointed to the day. "It's Thursday. So she has to."

Willow wasn't about to argue. She really wanted this to be over as well. As much as she loved Buffy, coming up with excuses to tell Dawn about the noises coming from the Slayer's room was getting to the point of ridiculous. This morning's topping the list. "Oh, yeah, she was um, dreaming about... spiked punch."

Lying had never been her forte.

Anya opened a few of the boxes behind her desk to replenish her stock of chicken feet.

Willow opened a textbook and prepared herself for her 1:00 class.

~~`~~

Buffy watched the clock move the slowest it had since she started working at The Doublemeat Palace. Her shift started at 9 A.M., at least four hours ago, but there was the clock, reading 10:15. "Grrrr."

Thoughts of the best way to slay a clock ran through her head. She checked the register tape's last receipt. The time stamp was worse. 10:12, and that was the order she had just finished.

Buffy thought about how Dawn acted on the way to school that morning. Odd references to punch the whole way. Buffy just kept asking what Dawn was talking about. Dawn in turn said, "You should know."

"Miss!" A voice pulled her from her reverie.

"Huh?" Buffy looked at the middle-aged man with black hair and glasses. "Oh, um. W-welcome to The Doublemeat Palace, can I take your order?" A smile plastered to her face.

~~`~~

Tara stepped out of the library shortly after noon. The sun was high and lit up the campus of green grass and trees. The air smelled so fresh that the girl simply stood and smiled at the beauty that was alive all around her. The calm was soon replaced with one clear thought. "The seventh day."

Hefting the bag full of books onto her shoulder, Tara walked towards The Magic Box.

The group had all decided to meet there, as per usual. The girls with the untold secret had decided that would be one of the first places Spike would go looking for Buffy if he passed.

The others, Dawn and Xander, always came by after school and work respectively.

The plan was simple. Get everyone in one room, and tell everything. Buffy would reveal to Dawn, Xander, and Spike, that she was in love with the Vampire. That way everyone could hold down Xander if necessary, and Spike could tell them what had happened to him.

Dawn and Xander were in the dark as far as Akoshta was concerned. Dawn knew Spike was gone, but had no idea where.

Xander hadn't even noticed Spike was gone. He'd only made sideways remarks about 'the lack of Spike' and that Spike might finally be getting the idea: he wasn't wanted.

As Tara opened the door, she bumped into Willow leaving. "Hey." They said simultaneously, then chuckled.

"Going to class?" Tara motioned to the books in Willow's arms.

Willow looked at her books, then to Tara. "Yeah. Oh, but I'll be back before...well, I should be back by 3:30 or so."

Tara nodded at her. "Ok. W-well, I'll be here."

"O-ok." Heading off to class, she gave a small wave, and walked away.

Tara entered the shop, and greeted Anya who was furiously dusting everything. "Anya, I think it's clean." Tara watched Anya move quickly from one shelf to another.

"I heard once that if you keep busy time passes more quickly." She stopped and checked the clock on the wall. "I think whoever I heard it from was lying."

Tara giggled.

In Waiting, Part Two

Pretty close to the middle of nowhere

The heat did it. Regardless of indirect sunlight, the inside of the Desoto was just plain hot.

Spike's eyes slowly opened, and he took in his surroundings. The smell of cigarettes and forgotten alcohol entered his nostrils, and he pushed himself up, knocking a few items off the seat and onto the floorboards.

His body ached, and his head still pounded, but the more he moved, the less pain he had.

He gripped the steering wheel to steady himself and peered out the windows through the dried polish. "Wha...?"

Outside was the side of the little store he'd stopped at on his way to the campsite. He clearly remembered leaving and parking at the deserted refuge. What he couldn't remember was anything else. He was once again in just enough shade to avoid the sun with some cover.

The Vampire reached behind his seat to get hold of the cooler and the life- sustaining blood inside. It took no time at all to catch the rancid smell of blood gone bad. He quickly covered the cooler and put it back in its place behind the passenger's seat. With a growl, he opened the door and pulled his duster up over his head.

Spike entered the shop much as he had before, receiving a few odd looks. He walked to the butcher's counter just as he had before.

"Back already?" The old man stopped his slicing and wiped his hand on a towel as he walked up to the counter.

"Looks that way, mate. You have any more blood left over? The stuff I got before all went too bad to, uh...use." Spike watched the man go to a sink and wash his hands.

"As a matter of fact, we always slaughter a few of our hogs each Thursday." The man walked in the back and brought out two pints of pig's blood. "You know, if you're going to keep it for a week, you really should freeze it.” He gathered the containers. “Otherwise, the smell, it's just awful." He handed three small packages of blood to Spike who had a face full of confusion.

"Did you just say a week?" Spike nearly dropped his dinner.

"Yeah, kid. Any more than one day and it'll start smelling... but I wouldn't even want to have to smell it after a week. You must not do this much." He motioned to blood.

"I haven't been here in a week?" He wasn't paying attention to 'Blood Care 101.' "A week?! Sure you don't mean a day?"

The man looked back at him with concern. "I'm sure, young man. You ok?"

Spike stepped away from the counter. "Not sure." He raised his hand gripping the meal he intended on devouring as soon as he entered his Desoto. "What do I owe ya?"

"Take it. Just remember to keep it frozen this time." The man smiled and returned to slicing meat, while Spike walked towards the door. He stopped short of passing the junk food aisle and began grabbing different items at random. Potato chips, chocolate bars...different types of cola, some beef jerky. When his arms were full, he dropped the items at the checkout, grabbed a bag of ice, and paid.

After emptying the water and the old blood into the dumpster his car was parked beside, he refilled the cooler with new ice, the remaining one of the two pints he'd acquired, and four cans of cola. He looked over at the bag of food on the passenger seat and tried to figure out why he'd gotten it.

The blonde reached into the bag to search for one of the chocolate bars; three different ones fell out and onto the car's floor.

Spike bent down and searched under the seat for one of the runaway bars. He felt paper and pulled an envelope from under the seat. It was a plain envelope, no name or address. Spike tore it open and scanned the anonymous letter.

"Vampire, the Powers watch over you. You have been judged and approved to continue down the path set before you. Accept those who travel with you on this path, and let the acceptance of love's truth become yours."

"Oh. Well, that clears it up nicely." Deja-vu hit him immediately. He looked over at the food again and ripped open the bag of BBQ chips. After two handfuls of greasy junk food goodness, he decided to try a chocolate bar.

"Not as good as Joyce's cocoa, but not bad." He swallowed the bite, and grabbed a Coke, a Pepsi, and an RC Cola out of the cooler. The taste testing went on for almost ten minutes before he remembered.

"A week." Spike thought about all that could have happened to his Slayer in one week.

Without a second thought, he started his car and sped off in the direction he had come from seven days ago as the midday sun began its long descent.

Sunnydale

Willow walked into the Magic Box, sure that Buffy was already waiting. Instead, she found Anya dusting the same area she had been when she'd left for class. Tara was seated at the research table with Dawn, who was trying to understand all she could about the

Pythagorean Theorem. Dawn looked up. "Hey, Willow. How was class?"

"Slow."

"You're telling me. The more I learn about geometry, the less I know." She slumped her shoulders and pointed out the latest educational torture the teacher had devised. "I mean, how much does one person need to know about triangles? Really?" Willow sat on the other side of Dawn, and tried to help Tara explain the importance of angles in life.

The group looked up as the bell over the door rang when Buffy entered. The Slayer quickly noted the small gathering for tonight had already begun. "Hi guys." She waved and walked over, then sat across from the group. "More geometry, huh, Dawn?"

"Ugh, too much." Her little sister stuck her tongue out at the book on the table and returned to the assignment.

Willow scanned Buffy and noticed that, not only had Buffy gone home and changed, but she smelled of pure vanilla. "Got all cleaned up for tonight?" Willow's tone was mischievous. It was obvious that Buffy wanted to look nice, but she'd apparently taken special care to rid herself of the stench that was Doublemeat.

The Slayer looked down at herself. She was dressed fairly normally she thought. She wore these black leather pants all the time. OK, two times, but the blouse, also black, was average. It was like any of the halters she'd wear. The fact that she bought it with her last few dollars of mad money on her way home from work not two hours ago was really of no consequence.

Really. Honest.

So what if she'd washed her hair three times, and used the new conditioner, and maybe half the bottle of vanilla body wash. All around, she felt very clean, and very fresh...and extremely anxious.

Dawn scanned her sister. "Is that a new shirt?"

Anya took that moment to stop dusting. She peered at Buffy. "Oh, I like that blouse. It's very reveling. I am sure he'll love it." Tara, Willow and Buffy glared at Anya.

"He?" Dawn dropped her pencil. "He who?!"

'Jeez, Buffy,' the teen thought, 'last night you're having dirty dreams about Spike, and tonight you're going on a date with someone else. Fickle much?'

Anya gripped the feather duster in both hands and threw out the first name that came to mind. "Richard." This time the whole table glared at her, but she went on. "Richard said he might come by sometime...tonight." She ended with a proud smile

Buffy figured it was better than nothing. "Yeah, Richard."

Dawn rolled her eyes and went back to her homework.

In LA, The Brothel

Angel entered the foyer of the large home to the most popular demon/human whorehouse in the state of California. No expense had been spared to furnish the large estate. The

Vampire received many odd looks as he sauntered easily through the halls of the mansion.

The demons, all female, were clad from head to toe in lace, leather, feathers, and silks.

Most eyed the Vampire with disdain, but more than a few considered breaking the demon world's universal rule against pairing with a Vampire.

He nodded politely to those who looked directly at him as he walked through the halls.

Soon, he came to the door that had been his goal and knocked.

"Enter," a light female voice sang from behind the door. He entered the room that acted as Anita's office. The demon woman looked him over. "Ahh, I remember you, Vampire. In search of more potions?"

Angel looked over the room, now missing a man chained to the wall. "As a matter of fact..."

Sunnydale

Dawn shut her textbook with great relief. She was finally done. "Hey, Buffy, can I go meet some friends at the coffee shop?"

Buffy, who'd been scanning one of Willow's drama texts, looked over to her sister. She had decided before to try to treat her sister more like the teen she was, not the Key she had been.

Sighing, big sister gave the teen permission. "But be sure you get back by 6:00... Scoobie meeting. Got it?"

Dawn looked over at the clock now reading 4:15. "Got it. You gonna tell us what all the Diary stuff was about, or where Spike has been all week?"

Anya stepped up to listen more closely and began repeating under her breath, "Please, please, please..."

Buffy looked over at her friend, then the two others sitting at the table with her. She turned back to her sister. "Yeah... 6:00, as long as Xander's here by then." Anya hopped as she turned and skipped away, her shoulders no longer slumped.

The bell rang again as Dawn walked out. Buffy let her head drop to the tabletop.

"Arrgghh. Xander better be here at Spike."

Willow looked over at her friend. "Huh?"

"I said, Xander better be here at six." She stood up and began pacing.

Anya, now behind the counter, watched the pacing blonde. "I'm sure he will be, Buffy. I asked him to. Xander rarely ignores a request from me. He is a very respectful fiancé."

She smiled at herself for being so lucky.

Buffy looked at Anya's peaceful, happy face. "I'm sure he will, too, Anya. I'm just... I wish I could figure out what tests Spike is getting. I mean... what if he does badly? I love him, but this is Spike were talking about."

Pure relief washed over Anya's face. "Thank God! I thought you were never going to ask, and let me tell you, this has been a very difficult week. I may have to take a vacation."

Anya came around the counter and stood at the head of the table where the other three women were seated. "I mean, it's bad enough not to tell Xander what's going on, but you," she pointed at Buffy, "you give us this whole deal about Spike, then tell us that all the stuff about Akoshta is supposed to be discovered. You can't just be told." Anya started to wave her arms at the ceiling. "Hello, 1000 year old ex- demon here. If demons are involved, don't you think I might have some idea what's going on?"

The three confused faces, staring at Anya as the words came flowing from her mouth, began to understand. Buffy slowly stood, pushing the chair away gently. "You mean, you know? You know what's going on?"

"Well, duh. Who told you about Akoshta in the first place?"

Buffy was wide-eyed and frozen in place, so Tara asked, "W-what is it, Anya? What do you know about the tests, and where are they? Angel and Spike?"

Anya settled into to the empty seat that she had been standing in front of. Buffy pulled her chair back up and sat with her back to the training room's entrance

Willow, Tara and Buffy looked intently to Anya and waited.

Making sure this time that she had the required attention, she began. "Akor and Roshta are twin sisters, demons. They were both mated five times, and both lost their men to death, all five times. The Powers recognized their pain and offered to make them the Keepers of the Gift."

"Akor and Rashta...that's why there's no direct translation. It's their names," Willow interjected.

"Yes." Anya nodded at Willow, who jotted the information down as the ex- demon continued. "The sisters, from time to time, help to test, or judge, the worthiness of the beings who are on their way to reaching the Gift. For those who have earned it, they make the Gift possible. Sometimes by changing the beings slightly, sometimes by granting a wish, if asked properly." She took a breath. "Their goal is to grant to the ones who have earned it, that which they never had."

"So how is Spike being tested?" Buffy asked.

Anya thought about that for a moment. "I really don't know. The last Vampire I heard of that went to them had already earned his gift. The only thing that was done for him was..."

"He was made human," Buffy finished almost to herself. She looked up at the ex-demon. "It was Ashton, wasn't it?"

A bit annoyed at yet another session of ‘Interrupting Anya‘, the shopkeeper shared what she knew. "I don't remember his name. I'm not even sure they told me, just that the Second was the Slayer. It would stand to reason it would be the one Sam married." Anya giggled. "The curious detail was the identity of the Connection. It was that Slayer's Watcher.

"Huh? How?" Buffy hadn't expected that.

Anya looked to Buffy. "Well, I do know the Vampire came to the twins much earlier, I think it was around the turn of a century...about 1720 I think. Apparently, he saved a small boy from a notorious group of humans, not at all normal for a Vampire. The Powers had the twins judge him, and direct him towards his new destiny. The human boy he saved grew older and had children, who in turn grew older and had children, etc...the Watcher was the last descendant of this line. The boy that the Vampire saved that day was the ancestor of that Slayer's Watcher."

Tara looked up. "Wow."

"I don't get it," Willow said. "You keep saying 'the Gift', like there is only one, but wouldn't people ask for different things?"

"People might ask for different things, but only people who are supposed to get 'the Gift' are called and shown what is in their future. The test is to determine if they can recognize their true wish."

"So, what is it?" Tara asked.

"What is what?" Anya looked over to the witch, then caught on. "Oh, 'the Gift.' Impossible love, or what seems like impossible love." She looked over at the Slayer. "Like you and a Vampire. I guess if Spike passes, the Powers have given him permission to love you. Found him deserving of a Slayer." She cocked her head to the side. "So I guess that means they give you permission, too."

Buffy, having already discovered that she loved Spike, was happy to have the Powers' blessing, but knew that even without it, her life was hers. She could be with whomever she
chose. She deserved at least that.

In LA

Angel pulled into his parking space for the Hyperion and walked towards the entrance. The small vial holding the potion acquired from Anita rested comfortably in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

The sun was low enough for him to go through the front entrance. As he did, four heads popped up. The group was waiting in the lobby. Gunn was sitting on the couch next to Fred, who was holding Connor. Lorne sat across from them, and Wes was pacing behind them, reading a worn book.

"Angel!" Fred yelped. Connor didn't cry, instead he began a round of giggles.

"Hey, man!" Gunn stood and walked over to Angel, who had yet to descend the small steps down into the lobby. "Are we glad to see you!"

"I take it you did well?" Wes asked.

Angel pulled the envelope from his pants pocket and walked over to Wes. "According to this I did, but I don't remember anything. Just words, short phrases, and pictures... and I seem to hate Spike's duster." The group remained quiet. "Must be because he took it off a Slayer." Angel shed his own jacket and laid it carefully across the back of an empty chair.

"I did figure one thing out, though."

~~`~~

An hour passed as the group watched Angel and Wes write down what Angel remembered. The Vampire father cooed and played with his son as he related the exact spot he'd headed for, although he had no recollection of actually arriving. That he woke in his car in the spot he had been heading for and found the letter. He left out his trip to Anita's. They filed the letter and envelope into the Angelus/Angel file.

After awhile, Angel announced he was very tired and asked if Lorne would mind watching Connor for one more day while he caught up on some sleep. Lorne agreed and Angel disappeared up the stairs and into his room.

All eyes shifted in Wes's direction at once. "He doesn't know about Spike?" Gunn asked angrily.

"Which means he doesn't know about Buffy and Spike," Fred stated after her boyfriend.
Wes came over and sat with the group, Lorne now holding Connor. "It doesn't affect the life he is leading. Apparently whoever controls Akoshta can wipe unneeded memories of the experience from the mind of whoever is tested. The only other accounts I have of someone surviving the tests could also not remember their experiences. Just as Angel, they remember ideas, words, pictures, but not the experience. If I am correct, I believe that Angel's resolve for whatever he discovered will be tenfold."

The group all looked up towards Angel's room, and knew that no matter what, they would do what had to be done to protect their friend.

Wes got up, and took the book he had been reading previously into his office. Then he turned, looked over the group, and closed his office door.

"Here we go again," Gunn declared.

Fred went to her desk and began typing a short e-mail.

Truth

By 5:00, Buffy was too jumpy to just sit and talk. Willow and Tara, now speaking easily with each other, followed her into the training room as Anya counted the till for the day so far.

The redhead had her laptop set up, and connected with the internet while talking with Tara. She was about to sign off when a new e-mail appeared in her box. Expecting the same short message she had gotten before, she opened the mail.

"Buffy!" Willow yelled. "Angel, he's back in LA. Fred just sent this."

Buffy walked over and leaned in to read the two words on the screen. "He's back." She stood back up. "That means Spike passed, too.” Then with some confusion added, “So where is he?!"

Buffy headed to the weapons area and took six knives in hand, and she began throwing them towards the practice board from habit. All hit their marks. At least the waiting and frustration weren’t affecting her game any.

Tara whispered to Willow, hoping that Buffy couldn't hear, "Who is Angel's Imposable Love?"

Willow just shrugged. "Apparently not Buffy...not anymore, anyway. Maybe it's Fred."

"I-isn't Cordelia, the girl you guys all w-went to school with, working there now?" Tara asked quietly.

"Cordelia?!" Buffy laughed having overheard their conversation. "Not in her dreams." She squelched her giggles and returned to her target practice.

The time was moving too slow for any of them. Anya kept peeking back through the door to announce that no one was back yet every five minutes.

Finally the bell rang over the door and the three ladies in the back room heard Anya's exclamation. "Xander!" They headed back into the shop, Buffy had the gait of a woman walking towards the verdict of a very long and exhausting criminal trial where she was the defendant.

Her stomach suddenly became tighter as she looked at Xander, who seemed surprised at his girlfriend's extreme excitement over his arrival considering her attitude he last few days. "Hey, Buff. Anya said something about a Scoobie meeting at 6:00. New demon in town?" He asked while Anya kept her hold on his arm, smiling with vigor and nearly vibrating with an uncompromising excitement.

Buffy walked up to the table and sat in the seat she'd occupied earlier so that she could easily see the front entrance. Xander sat beside Anya, who took the seat next to Buffy.

Tara and Willow sat next to each other across from the couple. "We really should wait until Dawn gets back," Buffy explained and read the clock. 6:05.

Dawn chose that moment to walk in. "Sorry I'm late, Buffy. I wanted to get a drink to bring with me, and the waiter was totally ignoring me." The girl came in and sat on the stool at the counter. "So, what's the what?"

Buffy had promised but would have given anything to take it back. She really had wanted Spike to be here by now. This was making her crazy.

~~`~~

Spike drove past the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign without a sideways glance. He headed into the town's main shopping area and watched Dawn walk into the store, drink in hand. "Must be a meetin' for bit to be strollin’ in at this hour." He pulled into the alley and climbed out of his car. The remains of candy bar wrappers, and bags of chips along with several empty cola cans covered the seats and floor of his Desoto.

~~`~~

Buffy stood up and began pacing in front of the stairs that led to the loft. "Ok." She kept pacing.

Xander watched worriedly as his friend moved furiously back and forth. "Buffy, whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Calm down."

She stopped pacing and looked over at Xander, then her sister. "Alright...so..." She began pacing again and talking to herself. "This is so much easier when I'm saying it to an empty crypt."

"Crypt?" The brunette male's brow furrowed. "Have you been going to Spike's, Buffy?"

Again she stopped and looked at her friend. The first emotion that built in her was anger, so she decided to just go with it. "What if I have been? I mean it, Xand, what can you really say about him?" Her resolve began to strengthen when she looked over at Tara and Willow who were nodding with support.

"What if being with Spike was one of the few things that helped me get back to living? What if Spike was the one person that made me feel like I used to? What if it was Spike who saved me?"

Dawn's eyes scanned the group as she listened to her sister yell at Xander. She wasn't quite sure what she was hearing, but she was a smart girl and had a pretty good idea. While her sister let in on their friend, Dawn’s eyes wondered around the shop. Her eyes caught something around the corner of the training room entrance. Spike's head peeked out just enough for her to see him.

The look of shock was clear on his face as he brought one finger to his lips so that she understood not to reveal he was there. She nodded slightly as a smile spread across her face.

"What if I told you I loved Spike?" Buffy continued. "How long did he help you last summer? Did he complain? How often did he stay and watch over Dawnie?" She looked back at her sister, who was grinning from ear to ear. Buffy took that as another sign of support.

Xander took the break in the Slayer's rant to cut in. "How often did he try to kill us, Buff? This is Spike. Big evil Vampire, remember?"

"Who could have hurt me any time he wanted in the last two months and didn't."

"Huh?" Xander was lost. "He can't hurt any of us. He has that chip."

"Which answers your own question. He can't kill you, Xander. He can't even hit you without the chip punishing him." Buffy paused. "But he's been able to hit me ever since you brought me back. He just didn't find out until the night the security guard was frozen."

"Hate to repeat myself here, but, huh?"

Tara cut in, "When we did the spell, it changed Buffy's molecular structure. Not a lot, but enough to confuse the chip in Spike's head."

Dawn watched Spike as he listened, checking the group to be sure no one was watching her watching him.

"And look," Willow pointed to Buffy, "still alive. Not killed by Spike."

Spike didn't know any of them knew he could harm his Slayer, but the fact that Willow and Tara were defending him made him feel accepted. If only a little.

With her friends now defending her, Buffy began to calm down. A familiar feeling ran up her spine and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. With a smile, she looked directly at Xander. "I love him. It's that simple. He's been gone for a week. Do you have any idea why?"

Spike's ears perked up.

"You remember the story Anya told us?" Her friend nodded. "He went to Akoshta, just like the other Slayer did with her love. He is being tested. I'm not sure what for, but when he comes back, there is nothing, not even my friends, that will stop me from letting him know. I love him!"

Xander sat back, unable to speak. Shock overwhelmed him.

Buffy walked behind the counter, careful not to look in the direction of her training room, and grabbed Sam's Diary. "This is the Diary of the Slayer that Anya told us about. The same one that Spike met." She dropped the book in front of Xander with a thump as she sat in her previous seat. "The wish, for her and her love to live out their 'natural' lives, was not just so she wouldn't be the Slayer." Xander looked up at her. "It was to make him human."

She opened the book to the page marked with the prophetic symbol of the Council.

Xander read the area Buffy pointed out. After a few minutes, he looked up. "He was a
Vampire?"

"A Vampire. A cruel one, then he changed. He wasn't forced to. He just changed," Buffy explained.

"There you go," Xander cut in again. "Spike has only been helping to impress you. Ulterior motives."

“Pfft, Yeah, he spent all summer trying to impress my corpse."

Dawn snorted at that.

This time Anya chimed in. "The other Vampire, he was called to Akoshta long before this." She pointed at the passage in the book. "He was shown a new path. One that led him to her."

Xander stared at Anya. "You knew about all this?" Anya was shamefaced.

"Don't be mad at her, Xander. I asked them all to keep the secret, at least until today."

“And I truly dislike keeping things from you, but in this instance, there was no choice.” Anya frowned.

Xander met his fiancé’s gaze then shooked his head and looked over at Dawn. "Did you know, too?"

Dawn still smiled, then thought of the perfect answer considering who was listening in.

"No, she didn't tell me. I thought she was all dressed up for Richard." She noted the look on Spike's face turn to a grimace out of the corner of her eye. "But it makes more sense than her screaming 'Spike!' in the middle night because she's dreaming about punch with alcohol."

Dawn giggled as Spike cocked an eyebrow. The secret exchange went unnoticed by the group seated at the table.

"Punch?" Buffy asked Willow.

"You know I'm no good at lying."

"Yeah, maybe...but who has noisy dreams about punch...even with alcohol?" The Slayer looked over to her friend.

"I know, but I really couldn't think of another excuse for the noises you've been making at night." She tried to defend herself.

Spike was snickering quietly as the banter continued. Dawn smiled at him. She wanted to let him know that his being with Buffy was fine with her. He nodded to her in thanks.

Xander watched the exchange between the blonde and the redhead who were his best friends, then began waving his arms in the air. "Hello...losing track of the subject here."

He got their attention after a few more waves. He was still trying to take all this in. Too much, or too little, information. He wasn't sure which. He did know that he really didn't want to hear about lusty dreams of Spike and Buffy. "How long have you two been...whatever you've been doing?"

Buffy thought about it. When had all this started? The attraction had been there for awhile, but nothing happened until..."Since the song and dance demon," Buffy remembered.

Xander ran the last three months through his mind, trying to remember some hint or clue he could have picked up on. Nothing came to mind. Spike was hanging around a lot, but that wasn't unusual.

Buffy wasn't different. She was still fighting with him.

Spike volunteered to help like usual. Almost at beck and call. The only exception he could recall was the time Buffy was invisible. Spike wanted to finish his exercising...

"OH, GOD!!" Xander jumped up knocking the chair backwards. "You were there...in his crypt...Oh, God...I saw you and him...blinvisible.” And suddenly all vampires were tan in comparison to Xander’s new pale hue. “Oh, God."

Buffy just stared at him, then over at Dawn. "Xander, before you say another word, I want you to remember my little sister is over there." She motioned toward the counter.

He turned around and gave Dawn a shaky and very nervous wave. "Oh, hey there, Dawnie." He let his hand fall and looked back at Buffy. "You have got to see how this is all freaking me out?"

"Never seen a bloke do push-ups before?" a deep accented voice said from the back room.

Spike took a few steps into the shop to let the rest of the group see him.

Buffy had known he was there, but wanted to let him hear the conversation. It was somehow easier, with Spike in the shadows, but still here, she could say everything she needed, and somehow she felt this would allow Xander to say what he needed. She had no intention of letting her friend stop her, or talk her out of her decision, but she didn't want to loose a friend, either.

Actually seeing him again was the cement in her decision. In the instant she turned and could take in his full presence her lungs emptied. Her chest felt empty yet heavy with emotion. She couldn’t breath for a full minute and her face felt unreasonably warm.

The group all looked at the Vampire. He was smiling just slightly and staring straight at Buffy. The two's eyes were locked.

"Hey, Spike," Willow said. "Glad to see you're not dead... or anymore dead than you were before.

"Appreciate that, Red," he said, not taking his eyes off Buffy.

Time stood still for the two. They scanned each other slowly. Not knowing until then just how much they had missed each other. Buffy broke the standstill as she ran the short distance between them, wrapped her arms around Spike's neck, and kissed him with a freedom and a fervor he hadn't expected.

His eyes remained open long enough to be sure no one was going to protest, then he held her and returned her kiss with all the passion he'd held back until this moment. No one was going to stop them. Not even Xander now.

A small growl shook him. It took a moment to figure out it was Buffy making the noise.

He pulled back a little and looked down at her flushed face. "Exactly what are those dreams about?"

Her face was ragingly red but leaned to his ear and whispered. Spike's eyes widened as did his grin. When she stood back he put his arm around her waist and pulled her back to him. "It can be arranged, luv."

“Yeah, I really didn‘t think you‘d have any arguments.” She smiled up at him still unable to let go of him.

He leaned down and captured her lips, slowly reminding her how much he loved being with her and possessed by her. He suckled her lower lip tracing it with his tongue and loving her flavor.

"Um, under aged kid here. And as cool as I am with all this, I so totally don't need any imagery. OK?" Dawn tried to get their attention, and save herself from having any pictures burned into her brain that may cause a need for therapy.

Epilogue

The group gathered while Spike told what little he could remember of the past week. All in all, it wasn't much. The letter was read one at a time as it passed around the table, then back to Spike, sitting on the steps up to the loft with Buffy seated next to him.

Spike's memories were broken and contained little more than pictures in his head, a few words and phrases. He was looking at Buffy as he continued.

"I was back at the store I'd gone to for the blood, right? So I was leaving and all I wanted was to get my hands on some food." He turned to the group and motioned over at Dawn, sitting between Willow and Tara. "Her kind of food. I musta bought ten kinds of candy bars and those crisps, I mean potato chips." He looked back at Buffy. "Bloody wonderful, those sour cream and onion ones, by the way."

Buffy's smile held confusion, but she listened as the Vampire told of his new fascination for junk food. "Oh, and Coke. I'm gonna be bringin' some over for you to keep for me when I come by. OK?" She just nodded still a little numb.

He smiled at her with some shyness, knowing this was a lot for her, for all of them, to take in. "So I got in my car, and went for a chocolate bar, but the bloody bag falls over. I go diggin' under the seat for them, and there was this." He held up the now-familiar envelope. Plain white, just like the paper that had been written on.

Willow, who had been taking notes from the beginning for the Diary, held her pencil in the air as if in class.

"Yeah, Red? What is it?"

"You said the envelope was under the seat? Why would they hide it?"

Spike looked over at her. "I think I might have pushed it off the seat when I woke up the first time. Was too sore to get up and passed out." He looked back at Buffy. " Hurt like hell, it did. My head was poundin'...I haven't felt like that since...well since you dropped that organ on me, luv." He winked at her.

She put her head down a bit shamefully and looked up at him. "Sorry."

"S' in the past." He waved a dismissive hand at her. He looked over the group. "All in the past. One thing I know; this," Spike stood up, and pointed at the floor. "is where I am supposed to be." He looked back over the group, then to Buffy, still seated on the steps. "Can't say I'm sorry for anything I did. It's who I was, but I can tell you that it isn't who I am now."

Spike stepped up next to Xander who had remained silent at Anya's request to 'just listen to him'. The boys face was tight with frustration, but he was doing his best to abide for the sake of his best friend, for the whole group really.

He looked down at the young man to make sure he understood that this par of the discussion was directed squarely at him. "Look whe-." He took an unneeded breath. "Look, mate...you hate me, and for good reason. I wanted you dead. I wanted all of you dead. This is your worst nightmare come true. Am I right?"

Xander straitened up in his chair. He'd done as he was asked. He'd been quiet. He'd even paid attention. He didn't believe half of it, but he'd listened. Spike calling him 'mate' didn't make him his buddy. Helping last summer only held so much water, considering half of the demon population wanted Spike a little more than damaged themselves. Spike had needed them as much as they needed some muscle.

Ok, so maybe Buffy had a point earlier about impressing her corpse, but still. It's Spike! Not of the good. Xander lifted his head and stared up at the Vampire. "I'd say it's close."

"Xander!" Anya yelled and whapped him across his back. "You take that back."

"No, it's alright. Not wantin' this to start out with lies. He hates me. I just said that. Can't blame him." Spike walked back and sat next to Buffy. "I'm telling you this right now. All of you. I'm not going to hurt her," He placed his hand on Buffy's knee. "I won't hurt any of you. I even won't harm a human, unless it's a bad human." He looked over at Buffy.

"Muggings, you know?"

She shook her head. "Not a good idea. The chip."

Spike's face changed as realization hit him full force, and he shot to his feet. "Huh, I didn't even think..." He looked back at Buffy. "That's what I was gonna ask for." He began pacing the short distance to the check-out counter. "I didn't even think to see...Bloody hell...I can't believe I forgot."

"Spike's chipless?" Dawn smiled as she asked, clearly excited.

Xander, Willow and Tara had worry on their faces. Anya and Buffy were curious.

"Don't know, Bit. Didn't even think about it 'til now." Spike stood still. Not sure who to ask to test it on.

"Well, see?" Buffy motioned at the Vampire while looking at Xander. "He didn't even think about if he could hurt a human 'til... I... brought... it... up." She frowned at herself for being the reason the mood had changed. “Go Buffy.”

Dawn quickly stood up. "Here, hit me."

"NO!" both Spike and Xander yelled at the girl. The two males shared a curious look with each other.

Spike looked back up at Dawn. "Thanks for the offer, pet, but I just promised not to hurt any of you. Won't go back on my word."

"Hit me." Xander stood up in front of Spike. His fists were clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Just remember, after this, you no longer have permission. Got it?"

Spike looked back at Buffy. She shrugged her shoulders. He took that as an OK and punched Xander in the stomach. Not as hard as he would in a fight, but enough to set the chip off in his head. The pain came quickly, and the Vampire gripped his head as Xander doubled over, coughing a little to catch his breath.

Willow scribbled on her pad as Buffy and Anya went to their boyfriends.

"I'd say that's a 'no' on the chiplessness," Dawn chimed in on the scene.

A few minutes later, the guys had recovered and Spike was again sitting with Buffy.

Xander noted that through this whole conversation, the couple didn't hold hands, they didn't cuddle. This was all business. They shared small smile and affectionate glances, mostly, it seemed, when the other needed the extra push during a more difficult part of this extremely odd and awkward revelation.

Whatever was going on, something was definitely different between them. The tension in both was gone. The thing that he noticed most was that Buffy seemed genuinely happy.

Something he hadn't seen in so long.

There was no way he could tell his best friend he couldn't support this. There was no way
he would trust Spike. At least not yet. Something big would have to happen before he could truly believe that Spike was now one of the good guys, but he could never deny the one thing that seemed to bring the friend he'd known for six years back to life. Back to really living.

"Fine." Xander stood up and looked down at Spike. "But you go back on your word, and I stake you."

Spike stood. "I hurt any of you, I'll do it myself." Spike put out his hand; Xander stared at it. A Vampire offering his hand.

'This is just weird,' Xander decided, and took the Vampire's cool hand. The two shook on it. The deal was made.

As darkness fell, the group talked, a bit uncomfortably, but they talked. Buffy told Spike about her trip to Nevada, about the Slayer he'd met sixty years ago, and that her husband was once a Vampire. Tara shared as much information with him as she had about Buffy's 'change' since the resurrection. Anya told him about the Twins of Akoshta and what "the Gift's" true meaning was. Willow showed him his Diary and the newer entries while proudly sharing it was her job to keep the Diary up to date.

"Better be careful what I say around you then, eh'?" he joked.

"You betcha, mister," the redhead said while chastising him playfully with her pencil. Even Xander smiled at that.

Willow took the book back and put it in her satchel. "I hate to be the party pooper, but it's getting late. I need to get home and research a paper for class."

Buffy checked the clock. It was nearly 9:00. "Jeez. I didn't even... I need to get Dawnie home and go patrol."

"Why don't Anya and I just drop you two off?" Xander asked Willow, then looked back to Buffy. "And then you... and Spike can go patrol?" Xander was willing to be the giver of the good old olive branch. He looked over a Tara. "You need a lift?"

"Sure, if you have room, I mean."

"It'll be a squeeze, but I think we'll survive." He helped Dawn with her books and started for the door. Spike pulled Buffy to her feet, keeping hold of her hand as they followed the Scoobies out of the shop.

After Anya secured the door, they walked over to Xander's car. He unlocked it and held the door open for Anya. "Hey, where are you two going to patrol?"

Buffy looked at Xander. "I'm not sure. Hasn't been a lot of slayage lately." She turned to face Spike. "I think the cemeteries are our best bet."

"If it's been slow, probably," Spike said, then looked over to Xander. "Why?"

"Just not all that tired. Thought I'd meet up with you, see if I can still distract the demons by letting them pummel me," He laughed.

Anya whined a little, and Xander assured her he wouldn't be late. "Just let me make sure everyone gets home, and I'll meet you by the Hampton mausoleum, OK?"

"Why not? Haven't had a good group patrol in awhile," Buffy agreed. "About half an hour?"

Spike had really been hoping to try the idea Buffy had whispered in his ear but making a good impression was important, too. Maybe not as important... But just this once he’d go for the noble move.

Xander looked into his full car. "Better make it an hour even," he amended and got behind the wheel.

The car drove off as the two blondes headed in complete silence for the first of twelve cemeteries that held the dead and undead of Sunnydale.

Spike walked with his Slayer, matching her stride, and tried fruitlessly to think of something to say. A week ago they would have bantered, quipped, argued, even talked...he felt so stupid. Here he was, practically any wish he'd ever had all come true, and he couldn't think of a damn thing to say to the woman walking beside him.

Buffy's mind raced. Nothing seemed right. The weather was a bad subject. The kiss of death. A muffled giggle shook her slightly. Kiss of death...if that wasn't just the most ridiculous thing for a girl who kisses dead guys to think. She looked over to the Vampire.

He seemed to be very intent on watching his feet. He looked over at Buffy, who was now watching his boots as they carried him along.

"I feel like I'm on a bloody first date," He finally said as they entered the gate to the cemetery.

Buffy stopped walking as she took in his words. "That's what this is. In a very Sunnydale way, this is like our first date."

It was true. This was the first time they were together, not just in each other's company, but together. The cards had all been laid out on the table. No more secrets and here they were now.

Spike smirked at her. "If ya don't mind, luv, I'd like to skip to the end of the date." He stepped up to her, cupped her cheek, and kissed her softly.

When he pulled back Buffy's eyes were still closed. Without opening them she asked with a flirty grin, "What if had been a really good date?"

Spike smiled and pulled her close, flush with his body, and kissed her hard. Their tongues danced as a moan escaped Buffy's throat. Her hands slid up the arms of his duster, and she grasped the back of his neck. Their lips were crushed together with fierce passion.

His hand slipped underneath the back of her jacket and blouse. Her soft, warm skin fueled his progress up her back. Her hand slowly slid to his chest, and she pushed him back gently.

"OK. We keep this up, there is no way anything is getting patrolled."

He pulled her back against him. "Been slow, remember?" He brought his lips back to hers.
Once again, she was pulled into a kiss that freed her from restraint. Another low growl grew in her throat. Spike chuckled quietly, happy to know he had this effect on her.

She pulled back and pressed her hand to his chest. "And the laughing? Not gonna help you here." She looked at him seriously.

"Buffy, you were growlin'."

Embarrassment welled in her. "Oh."

Spike wrapped both arms around her. "Don't be ashamed. It's a hell of a compliment... for me," he told her, his cocky smile firmly in place.

She smacked his chest playfully, and he kissed her again.

"Xander," she whispered.

Spike yanked himself back. "Bloody...what did you just say?!" he asked angrily.

Buffy looked up at him, barely able to contain the laughter. "We're supposed to meet Xander. Remember?"

"Oh. Yeah." He straightened his duster, and the furrow on his brow eased.

She smiled at him, still trying to contain the giggling that threatened to escape, and walked towards the second cemetery. "Jealous?" she threw back at him when he didn't fallow.

"Hey, now," Spike began to jog and caught up with her, "not bloody jealous of the kid."

Buffy just loved pushing her Vampire's buttons. "I dunno. I don't think you could call Xander a kid anymore." She looked at Spike's newly furrowed brow, checking to see just how seriously he was taking her. "Looks all grown up to me." She ran ahead.

Spike stood there, confusion on his face. She was playing with him. A smile soon took over. "You want to play, Slayer?" And he took off after her.

~~`~~

Xander stood waiting. They were late, but that probably meant they had found a few Vamps on their way. He twirled the stake in his hand. The one trick he had mastered in six years of Slaying alongside his friend. He heard some screaming, then laughter. It was Buffy. He dropped the stake mid- twirl.

"Damn." The part time demon hunter cursed at his lack of hand eye coordination. He picked the wood up off the ground, and saw Buffy, being chased by Spike.

She was laughing, but the scene gave Xander a feeling of foreboding out of instinct. Just as he was about to walk to meet them, a cold hand gripped his neck.

~~`~~

Buffy saw Xander out of the corner of her eye just as Spike tackled her to the ground. She missed him being grabbed by one of her usual prey. Some vamp looking for a meal.

"You sure you want to play, Slayer?" Spike asked not having sensed the other of his kind due to the immediate and strong distraction of one blonde beauty.

"Spike?" A vaguely familiar voice called from behind him.

Xander was standing stock still as the male Vampire him kept his grip tight on his shoulder and waist and continued to address the peroxide blonde atop his girl. "We all heard you were fighting alongside the Slayer. I am so glad to see it was a mistake."

Spike looked down at Buffy and gave her a grimacing smile. A knowing glance passed between the two as she he pulled the stake from her boot, and hid it inside his sleeve.

Then, in a quick motion, he pulled her up and gripped her around her waist from behind, just as the Vampire had Xander. "Well, there is only so much you can do with a Slayer before you get bored. Know what I mean, mate?"

The other Vampire nodded. "Slayers are only good for two things, and the other is feeding." The Vampire laughed at his own joke.

Spike gripped Buffy protectively tighter, then abruptly loosened his grip. The Slayer moved with preternatural speed and pulled Xander from the distracted Vampire. In the same motion, Spike brought the stake from his sleeve. The confused, and now empty-handed, Vampire was dust.

Xander, who had been thrown to the ground after Buffy pulled him away, was stunned. "Gotta say, well executed rescue plan."

For the second time that night, Xander did something he never thought he'd do. He took Spike's outstretched hand as the vampire helped him to his feet.