Two Sides of the Same Coin by Behind Blue Eyes
Summary: Set during the episode “Replacements,” Toth’s second blast of badness strikes Spike instead of his lamp. How will the Scoobies deal with a visitor from the past? Will they be able to restore the obligate symbiotic relationship between monster and man before it’s too late?




Winner at Sunnydale Memorial Fanfiction Awards Round 25 for Best Episode Re-Write, Runner Up for Best Plot-Spike Pairing, and Best Unfinished------Many Thanks!!!!






Categories: General Fics Characters: None
Genres: Action
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Situations, Violence
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 18 Completed: Yes Word count: 45171 Read: 40493 Published: 09/17/2011 Updated: 03/12/2012

1. Chapter 1 by Behind Blue Eyes

2. Chapter 2 by Behind Blue Eyes

3. Chapter 3 by Behind Blue Eyes

4. Chapter 4 by Behind Blue Eyes

5. Chapter 5 by Behind Blue Eyes

6. Chapter 6 by Behind Blue Eyes

7. Chapter 7 by Behind Blue Eyes

8. Chapter 8 by Behind Blue Eyes

9. Chapter 9 by Behind Blue Eyes

10. Chapter 10 by Behind Blue Eyes

11. Chapter 11 by Behind Blue Eyes

12. Chapter 12 by Behind Blue Eyes

13. Chapter 13 by Behind Blue Eyes

14. Chapter 14 by Behind Blue Eyes

15. Chapter 15 by Behind Blue Eyes

16. Chapter 16 by Behind Blue Eyes

17. Chapter 17 by Behind Blue Eyes

18. Chapter 18 by Behind Blue Eyes

Chapter 1 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Okay, I tried to be patient. I wanted to wait until I have a bunch of chapters finished before I posted. I was doing so good. Well, that was until that persuasive, tiny voice kept whispering for me to post. I finally broken down! What? I'm only human! Anyway, I haven't written canon for awhile. Hopefully I'm not too rusty. First, let me thank a few people before you read. Big thanks to Sanityfair and Diebirchen for their mad skills. Also, big thanks to two gifted ladies who made two awesome banners, Capella and Edgehead. Edgehead is first. I will be alternating them so you all can enjoy. Well, enough with my ramblings, I hope you all enjoy this!
“The city dump—where smells go to relax and be themselves.”

In spite of Buffy’s usually attentive audience consisting of Giles, Willow, Xander, and Riley, her attempt at humor fell instantly flat. She hoped they’d foregone laughing due to the risk of further plaguing their noses with the overpoweringly foul stench, instead of her losing her touch. She would hate to think she was losing her quipyness.

“People say they're recycling. They're not recycling,” Riley chided as the group continued forward through the center of mountains of rubble. Xander wordlessly commiserated with the larger, gloomy man by patting him on the shoulder.

“I found a spell so you can't smell anything, but it does it by taking your nose off, so ... no,” Willow sighed heavily. She always tried seeing the brighter side of life by using a combination of light-hearted jokes and quick-fix ideas. Thankfully, they all still had their noses.

Buffy discreetly rolled her eyes at Riley’s sanctimonious tone. Even though she agreed with what he was saying, it was more how he sounded— all poster-boy-for-public-service-announcements-like.

All Riley needed now was to be standing before a backdrop of the stars and stripes waving in a non-existent breeze, warm apple pie, some fireworks, and the all-American picture would be complete.

The annoyance with her significant other had been happening more and more frequently lately. This wasn’t the first time she feared her eyes were going to roll right out of her head at the sound of his voice.

The only thing Buffy was grateful for during this little mission was that Riley was the only irritating male present. Things could be worse—much, much worse. There happened to be one un-dead pest who was an even bigger thorn in her side. He was far more infuriating now than when he first swaggered into Sunnydale with a loony vampiress on his arm.

Each year, hell, each day, he topped the previous one in annoying the hell outta her. The problem was, after the Initiative had neutered him and he showed up on Giles’ doorstep all begging and pathetic, she couldn’t stake him. She was the Slayer, not a killer of harmless, flaccid creatures.

But instead of his taking this as a free pass and leaving Sunnydale permanently, he decided to stay and become an ever-present, bigger pain-in-her-ass. Now, instead of biting and sucking the life from people, he used his mouth as another kind of weaponry—spewing forth verbal-diarrhea, slinging insults, and giving color commentary nobody wanted or asked for.

Oh and look, speaking of the bleached devil.

“What are you doing here, Spike?” Riley snapped, trying to be threatening but failing miserably. Only the crossbow he brandished held any weight to his empty attempt at intimidation.

Spike stood to full height, holding up his finds. A small, battered lamp in one hand, and … is that a mannequin’s arm in the other?

I don’t wanna know why he has a plastic arm. Clearly for evil, but otherwise, I’m so not going there.

“Oh, there's a nice lady vampire who set up a charming tea room over the next pile of crap. What do you think I'm doing? I'm scavenging, ain't I?”

“Very pretty,” Willow commented timidly. Spike nodded his thanks before turning and placing the arm in his shopping cart.

“Spike, um ... we're looking for a demon, um ... tall, robed, skin sort of hanging off, deep voice?”

Giles sounded hesitant asking Spike about seeing the new baddie of the week. She really couldn’t blame him. The blond vamp made it very clear time and time again he was “bad” and hated each and every one of them. Add to that his being a soulless demon, and none of them should really trust anything that came out of his mouth.

“You mean a great, tall, robe-y thing like that one?”

Spike excitedly pointed behind the group. In spite of Buffy’s thoughts only moments before, they all turned in sync to where he gestured. Now, standing before them, given Giles’ earlier description, was Toth. All billowy cloak and wielding a stick.

Toth quickly demostrated it wasn’t “just a stick,” when a bright blast shot from the end and headed straight toward them. Luckily, they all ducked in time. The discharge hit a pile of garbage where they once stood, causing it to smolder. Toth bellowed an infuriated snarl after missing his intended target—Buffy.

“Take cover!” Riley yelled the obvious, as everyone scurried in opposite directions. While the scrambling Scoobies briefly distracted Toth, Buffy gave him a perfunctorily look-over for any signs of weaknesses. Besides obviously needing to majorly moisturize, she found nothing.

“Big guy! Kick her ass!” Buffy noticed from the corner of her eye Spike’s arm raised in camaraderie for his fellow demon.

Almost on Spike’s cue, Toth pointed his weapon and fired another magical blast at Buffy. Once again he missed, but this time he did strike someone—Spike. The blast landed in the middle of his chest, launching him backward into a pile of garbage.

While five pairs of eyes intently watched Spike, nobody noticed Toth escaping. It wasn’t until Buffy turned toward where he—it—used to be, in preparation for another strike. It was then she noticed Toth was gone.

Completely annoyed, Buffy shook her head and kicked an aluminum can in her path, launching it into the air. The thin metal made a faint clanking sound when it finally landed on a mountain of garbage in the distance.

“Can I just say, I really hate it when they attack all willy-nilly and leave. They don’t even have the common courtesy to stick around and get their butts handed to them like a demons threatening to kill the Slayer should!”

“Well, I’m glad nobody got hurt,” Riley stated, wrapping his arm around Buffy’s shoulders and placing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

Without a response, Buffy moved away and clearly missed Riley’s passing look of hurt from her brush-off, as she approached the rest of the group.

“Yes, I agree with you, Riley. May I say, this was certainly a time when we should be grateful a foe had limited resources when he attacked. As we originally theorized, his staff, indeed, holds all his power. I believe in order for Buffy to defeat Toth, we should do more research about his weapon.”

After addressing the group, Giles turned and proceeded toward the exit, Xander, Buffy, and Riley following behind. After several steps, Buffy became aware that not everyone was leaving. She stopped, turned, and witnessed Willow staring down at Spike’s motionless body. Xander, Giles, and Riley soon followed suit.

“Hey, Wills, you going to join us for some research goodness?”

Willow’s gaze moved from Spike to Buffy. She instantly recognized the look of regret filling Willow’s features and cringed knowing what her friend was about to say.

“Willow, please don’t say what I think your going—“

“Buffy, we can’t just leave him here,” Willow urged compassionately.

“—to say. Willow, he’ll be fine. Spike will be annoying the populous in no time. I bet you anything he’s pretending to be hurt, just to laugh later that he tricked you into being all concerned about him. Since he’s bitey-no-bite, aggravating us to no end is the only way he can reach his evil quota for the week.”

Appearing unaffected by Buffy’s words, Willow stayed put. The longer Spike stayed motionless, the more Willow’s expression of concern grew.

“Buffy, you of all people know how impatient Spike is. He wouldn’t be able to lie still this long. Even if he was planning to do “evil.” Willow used her fingers to emphasized “evil” with air quotes. “Plus, he didn’t come here to bother us. He was only here to gather things for his new place. Spike getting struck by Toth’s blast of badness was kinda our fault.”

Unable to ignore her best friend’s imploring gaze, Buffy sighed heavily while stomping back toward Willow and Spike, whining to Giles along the way.

“Giles, please tell Willow that saving vampires is not in the Slayer’s handbook.”

“Buffy, I assure you, despite my feelings or lack thereof for Spike, he does seem to warrant our assistance. Willow is correct in saying he was injured due to our drawing Toth to the part of the facility where Spike was rummaging for um, supplies.”

“Have the toxic fumes in this place made all of you lose touch with reality? Giles, I would’ve never thought in a million years that you, of all people, would care what happens to a vampire, especially Spike!” Buffy pointed at the still motionless vamp, her incredulous gaze landing on her Watcher.

“Buffy, I completely agree with you. Spike should’ve been dusted a long time ago,” Riley stated firmly.

“Thanks, Riley. At least your mind isn’t affected by the funk. So Xander, you’ve been awfully quiet over there. What’s your take on this?” Buffy turned to her unusually silent friend. Typically, numerous opinions would have already been heard from him in regard to Spike, yet he hadn’t said a word.

“I hate to admit it, Buff, but Willow’s right. The poor guy was just here looking for some stuff and got blasted for his troubles. Now, don’t mistake what I’m saying. Seeing Spike getting knocked on his butt into a big pile of trash is too funny. Like I wish I had a video camera to win some money type of funny. It’s just, if he doesn’t wake up before the sun comes, he’ll end up fitting into a dustpan all because we brought Mr. Fruit-roll-up-face here. If that happens, well, it’s kinda not right.” Buffy’s and Xander’s mutual gaze remained locked, until he sheepishly looked away following his last sentence.

“Fine, fine, it’s three against two. I guess I have to help Spike.”

With disdain unmistakably lacing her voice, Buffy handed Xander her battle labrys before approaching Spike. Buffy looked at the vamp in question as she stood over him. Really looked at him.

His face was slack, not a hint of his classic smirk in sight. His trademark leather was curled around his legs, but flared open at his chest, where Buffy noticed a large charred mark in the dead center. Strangely, his chest was rising and falling in slow measured movements.

Huh, he looks like a real person. All breathing and stuff.

Unexpectedly, Buffy realized she was staring a lot longer than she should. Even more surprisingly, she noticed how truly attractive he was. She never realized this before. Well, that’s not true. There was one time, but she chalked that up to Willow’s My Will to Be Done spell.

While sitting on Spike’s lap as they made wedding plans, he held her possessively, yet tenderly. It was then Buffy found out firsthand he had a lithe and muscular body under all that black and leather. She always knew he was a well-honed weapon by the way he’d fought, and all that closeness totally confirmed it.

Also, with this closeness, she had a chance to study and memorize all his striking features: his bluer-than-blue eyes framed by impossibly long lashes, model-enviable cheekbones, and a regal nose. And let’s not forget those full-kissable lips… But before Buffy’s treacherous thoughts could continue down that road, Willow’s voice brought her back to the here and now.

“Um, Buffy, how are you planning on waking him up?”

Willow was taken back by Buffy staring at Spike. At first, she thought Buffy was debating as to how she could deal with Spike without actually touching him.

However, in addition to the length of time she continued to stare, what really caught Willow’s attention was the way Buffy’s gaze roamed over his body. It was more of a, “Hey, nice bum. Where ya from?” kinda of way, and less than the look of disgust Buffy tried to currently express.

“Uh? Oh, yeah, I was just thinking of a way of waking him with minimal touching. Yup, no touching of Spike is of the good.”

Despite Buffy’s words, her tone didn’t support them. With Riley standing only a few feet away, Willow didn’t question her friend’s actions, but filed her inquires away for later.

Stepping closer, Buffy stuck out her leg and nudged Spike with the tip of her boot. “Spike…hey Spike…get up.” Buffy prodded him again and held up her hands in defeat.

“Wills, he’s really ok. I don’t think he—“ When Buffy looked up and noticed Willow’s firm, set features silently indicating she hadn’t tried hard enough, so Buffy finally relented.

With a huff, Buffy squatted down and after a few false starts, poked his leather-clad shoulder with her index finger. After two more finger-stabs and calling his name, she pulled her hand away and rubbed said finger rapidly across her pant leg.

Ignoring her best friend’s childish behavior, Willow became increasingly worried about Spike. “Buffy, I don’t think he’s going to wake up. Maybe we should bring him somewhere. You know, a place where the sun won’t be.”

Willow decided to take matters into her own hands, and squatted on the other side of Spike. She could tell Buffy clearly wanted to argue with the “Saving Spike” plan, but remarkably she kept her opinions to a low grumbling under her breath.

With a final murmur, Buffy grimaced as she leaned forward and wrapped her hand around Spike’s wrist and pulled. With a harsh tug, Buffy abruptly raised only her side of Spike’s body, causing his head to snap back in Willow’s direction.

Willow let out a gasp and quickly leaned over to help Buffy, by wrapping a protective arm around Spike’s back. She felt slightly nervous with a vampire, albeit an unconscious neutered one, this close to her neck. Especially, since this was Spike’s third time there, and despite what they say, three times are not necessarily a charm!

In a joint effort—well, Buffy’s more than Willow’s due to her supernatural strength—they managed to get Spike into a sitting position. Willow watched Buffy eyeing Riley. Finally, he seemed to recognize Buffy’s if-looks-could-kill expression and came over to replace Willow on the opposite side of Spike.

Together, Buffy and Riley maneuvered Spike into a fully up-right position. They draped Spike’s arms around each of their shoulders and held his wrists while their other arms were wrapped around Spike’s back to further anchor him in between them.

Once they secured the unconscious vamp, they started forward. While they walked slowly, Spike’s head slumped forward, with his chin resting on his chest while his feet dragged behind them. The pair wasn’t able to make it very far before Buffy stopped, causing Riley to do the same.

“Riley, I’m having a hard time keeping up. Every two or three of my steps, equals one of yours.”

Willow watched anger flash across Riley’s features before it quickly disappeared. Clearly Riley was not happy about them, especially Buffy, helping Spike. Willow believed since Buffy hadn’t commented, she apparently missed Riley’s fleeting reaction.

Despite the mask of impassiveness he now wore, Willow knew Riley hadn’t calmed down. This was clear when she witnessed Riley roughly tightening his grip around Spike’s wrist. Although Riley was only human and he couldn’t exactly hurt Spike, Willow felt the need to intercede before anything bad, such as Riley dusting Spike, happened.

“Xander, why don’t you help Buffy? You’re closer in height and—“

“Wills, say no more. The Xan-man is here to save the day.”

Xander handed Giles Buffy’s labrys, before stepping forward and taking Riley’s place. When Riley finally relinquished his hold, Xander noticeably sank under Spike’s weight.

“Gah! Talk about dead weight! I didn’t know bleach and Billy Idol’s leftovers weighed so much!” Xander gasped before Buffy shifted and took more of Spike’s weight on her side.

As the group slowly made their way toward the exit, none of them was aware of a pair of feral, golden eyes hungrily watching their departure.







Author’s Notes:

Some of the dialog comes from the episode, “The Replacements,” written by Jane Espenson. The rest is solely from my twisted mind.

“The labrys is a double-headed axe that was used by ancient women as either a sacred ceremonial object, formidable weapon, or agricultural tool. It represents female strength, rebirth, and fertility. Only women carried the labrys.” If you want to read more, go here: http://www.reocities.com/westhollywood/6851/LAB.html.
End Notes:
*covering eyes* How was it? Please take a moment to let me know.
Chapter 2 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Well, I'm hoping the minimal readage is more from the weird time I posted and not lack of interest. *keeping fingers crossed* I appreciate all those that have read and those that had taken the time to review. And if your just catching up, thanks for taking a chance on my new story. Big thanks to my lovely betas: Sanityfair and Diebirchen--you ladies are the best. And thanks to Capella for her awesome banner!
Upon awakening, he was met with an instant, dull, throbbing pain in his head. He was truly vexed due to being unable to recall what had transpired prior to cause such a discomfort. Hearing murmurs beyond the dreadful throbbing, he focused and overheard overlapping remarks coming from all around him.

“Hey, I think Mister Freeloading vamp is finally waking up.”

“It’s about time!”

“I second that, Xander.”

“Giles, do you think he’ll need some blood to, um, help him recover?”

“Willow, contrary to one’s belief, I am not running a Bed and Breakfast for vampires.”

From what he gathered there were three men and two women. Four of whom spoke in a rather strange vernacular. Coincidentally, one somewhat older man possessed an accent similar to his own. That, in itself, was reassuring. However, what plagued him was the manner in which this older man addressed the young lady. Rather informally and, he might add, quite scandalously, by using only her first name.

Before slowly opening his eyes, he steadied himself with several deep breaths and swallowed back the bile threatening to rise from his roiling stomach.

Looming above him, he noticed five blurry figures of varying heights. He suddenly felt anxious and promptly righted himself into a sitting position. He tried focusing on those before him without squinting, as he addressed them.

“Ah, how do you do? Please pardon me if my actions appear anything less than grateful for your hospitality, but how is it I have come to be here, and where is here exactly?”

Due to his blurred vision, he missed the incredulous looks shared and passed between those standing before him.

“Um, we brought you to Giles’ after you were hit by Toth’s beam of badness.” One of the women, the one who appeared to possess the darker hair of the two, responded.

“Thank you, Miss. May I inquire is Mister Giles among us? I would like to thank him properly.”

“I am.”

The same cultured voice from earlier sounded to his right. He tried to stand. However, after several failed attempts, he resigned himself to remaining in his seat.

“Please pardon my manners, Mister Giles, but it appears I have been slightly incapacitated by Mister Toth’s attack.” He outstretched his hand and continued; “I extend my sincerest gratitude for graciously sharing your home during my recovery from injury.”

He noticed one blurry figure step forward and eventually take his hand.

“Um, yes, you’re welcome.” With a firm shake, Mister Giles released his grip and moved back to his previous position.

“Oh my, how terribly rude of me to not properly introduce myself. My name is Mister Pratt, Mister William Pratt, and might I be so bold as to ask the names of my rescuers?”

There was a moment of silence before a volley of queries ensued. William tried focusing and following where each came from, but it remained quite difficult, due to his compromised vision, the rapidity, and overlapping arrangement of their words.

“Huh?”

“Why is he talking all Giles-y?”

“Who’s William Pratt?”

Thankfully, Mister Giles, who William assumed was the leader of the group, finally spoke. His authoritative voice silenced the others.

“Um, Mister Pratt, may I ask, from where do you currently hail?”

“London, of course.”

William heard murmurs from the group before Mr. Giles continued, “And pray tell, what year is it?”

“Mister Giles, I assume you are a physician and these queries are to attest to my memory as well as my sanity. I am well aware it is the tenth of October, the year of our Lord, eighteen seventy-nine.”

Following his response, William heard further muttered words and noticed the group moving off to his right. William felt on edge instantly.

Due to etiquette, he kept his eyes trained forward. However, even if he felt compelled to go against decorum and turn to look, his failed eyesight wouldn’t allow him to see much. Furthermore, even though it was clearly rude, he wasn’t able to overhear their discussion. William speculated from the intensity and hasty nature of their whispering that they were most likely debating his condition.

William feared they believed he had answered Mister Giles’ questions in an unseemly manner, and this ultimately sealed his fate. He heard stories of those deemed mad. They never returned home and spent the rest of their lives “patients” of Bedlam.

Dear God, if this is what is to become of me, what is to become of Mother?

William broke from his racing thoughts and fears when he heard a firm declaration he believed to have been spoken by the fair-haired woman.

“Giles, I don’t believe you’re listening to this crap!”

Breaking from the group, she approached and now stood before William. Even with his compromised eyesight and despite his limited time with the fairer sex, he believed she was quite cross with him.

“Look Spike, this undead English patient routine is getting really old, really quick.”

William, if possible, became even more confused. He knew it wasn’t proper to argue, nor was it his nature to be confrontational, yet he felt the need to clarify.

“Miss, I do not know of this Spike of whom you speak nor why you believe I am he, but I assure you, I am William Pratt of the London Pratts. Also, if I may be so bold, I am a man of reputable upbringing and would never adopt a ruffian’s moniker such as Spike.”

“What?”

“I think he said he’s not Spike.”

“Thanks, Willow, for translating, but I said “What?” because I don’t believe a word he just said, not ‘cause I didn’t understand. Come on people. If it looks like Spike, smells like Spike, and sounds…well, he doesn’t sound like Spike, but two outa three ain’t bad. So clearly, it’s Spike!”

William watched speechlessly as the fair-haired woman gestured angrily toward him. Thankfully, Mister Giles interceded before she continued.

“Buffy, it is true, this is Spike. However, I believe he may be suffering from some sort of amnesia, and his mind is resorting back to his pre-vampiric days.”

“So Giles, the spell Toth cast, it’s kinda like Ethan’s Halloween dress in stick form?”

“Not exactly, Willow. Ethan prayed to Janus, the Roman God of beginnings and transitions, or for Ethan’s purposes, the God of chaos. He used the costumes as conduits to affect those who wore them when he’d cast the spell. Those wearing the costumes truly believed they were what their costumes represented. This is different. For all intents and purposes, Spike believes he is who he was before he was turned: William Pratt.”

“So Toth went after Buffy planning for her to forget she was the Slayer and for her to think she was pre-Slayer Buffy?”

“That may be a reasonable explanation, Riley. However, I still believe we need to do more research to know for certain.”

William listened intensely to the group’s discussion. Even though he disagreed wholeheartedly with what Mister Giles claimed, that he and this Spike were one and the same, he decided to withhold his opinions for the moment. He had already spoken out once against Miss Buffy, who appeared to be a prominent, well-respected woman of a clearly influential group. It was wise not to anger her further by speaking out again.

“So in the mean time, what do we do with…him?”

“Well, and I don’t believe I’m suggesting this, I feel in this state he is ill-equipped to return to his crypt. Spi—um, William shall remain here until we are able to reverse Toth’s spell.”

William felt relieved Mister Giles told Miss Buffy that he would be staying there until he recovered. Even though he heard several grumbled responses from the others, once again he felt extremely indebted to Mister Giles. Otherwise, it appeared he would have been turned out into the streets if it were left up to some of the other members of the group.

With the matter concluded, he blurrily watched the group disburse before feeling the couch cushions beside him reposition. Turning, he noticed the dark-haired woman sitting quite close to him. Since this was the first time the opposite sex tried engaging him in conversation, William felt his heart racing from her nearness.

“Sp—I mean William, how are you feeling? I know a lot has happened. Don’t worry; we’ll figure it out and you’ll be, well, yourself again in no time.”

“You’re very kind, Miss—um, if you don’t mind, might I inquire what your name is?”

“Oh, Willow. Call me Willow. Sometimes you call me Red, but Willow’s good.”

“Thank you, Miss Willow. I assure you I will remain quiet as a church mouse and let your group aid me in anyway you deem fit. I do not want to be the cause of any further imposition.”

“Oh, no, no problems at all. In the meantime, um, is there anything I could do for you?”

“I, well, I wonder Miss Willow, did you happen upon my spectacles? I am having a dreadful time seeing and—“

“You wear glasses?”

“Yes, I have since my early childhood.”

“Huh. No, I’m sorry, I didn’t see your glasses. Oh! Maybe you could borrow a pair from Giles. I know they won’t be the same prescription but hopefully they’ll work.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Miss Willow.”

William watched her blurry image stand from the couch and approach Mister Giles, Miss Buffy, and the two other men, one of which he believed to be named Mister Riley.

While he waited patiently, Mister Giles left the room and returned moments later. He then noticed Miss Willow taking the proffered item and approaching him.

“Here, try these.”

William reached out, taking the glasses. He slid them on, adjusting them behind his ears and the bridge of his nose. Once in place, he looked through the lenses and was amazed at how close Mister Giles’ prescription was to his own. When his eyes finally adjusted, he raised his gaze to Miss Willow.

He immediately noticed she was quite lovely, with short auburn hair, porcelain skin, and large and expressive green eyes. Trying to be inconspicuous, he lowered his gaze.

He became completely taken back by her attire. She wore a thin, orange shirt made of a strange fabric that clung to her slight form. William tried not to gawk nor blush at how highly inappropriate, bordering on scandalous, her dress was. His gaze lowering further, he almost gasped at the sight: she wore trousers!

William turned and observed the other’s clothing as well. They, including Mister Giles to a lesser degree, lacked proper civilized dress.

Considering the possibilities, William believed perhaps Mister Giles might be involved with the Colonial Missionary Society. Graciously, he had taken in these wayward immigrants to teach them he tenents of Christianity and the proper discretion and etiquette of Victorian society. This would explain their outlandish dress, mannerisms, and speech. They must be from another country, but from which one, he was uncertain.

William continued regarding the others until the fair-haired woman, Miss Buffy, moved into his line of sight. At that moment, William was lost. She possessed a radiant beauty the like with which none other could hope to equal. Her loveliness even far surpassed that of the Underwoods’ eldest daughter, Cecily.

Miss Buffy was blessed with delicate features, a slightly up-turned nose, full bee-stung lips, and green eyes burning with an unbridled passion. Her long blond hair flowed in waves over her shoulders. She was petite in stature; however, she gave off an extraordinary presence, rivaling and surpassing that of any man.

Instantly, William’s entire being reacted to her beauty. His mind raced with lines of poetry while his body expressed his longing with a notable tightness in his trousers.

Greatly ashamed of his uncouth reaction to Miss Buffy, William vowed to rein in his baser desires, just as a proper Victorian gentleman must. A chaste and lovely woman such as Miss Buffy should never be subjected to any man’s vulgar needs.

Despite his firm declaration, when Miss Buffy spoke, William could not take his eyes away from her unsurpassed exquisiteness.

“Giles, if you don’t mind, Riley and I are going to head out. There’s not much we can do with Sp…, um, here. I’m going to head home and rest up. Tomorrow, I’m Toth hunting.”

“Ah, yes, good idea, Buffy. I believe even if we are unable to locate the spell Toth used, if you are able to obtain his weapon, we would be able to know exactly what we are dealing with.”

“Or better yet, kill him, and this stops any spells he cast, right?”

William’s gaze moved from Miss Buffy to Mister Riley, who had just spoken. He was shocked to see how Miss Buffy allowed Mister Riley to touch her about the waist. Obviously, despite Miss Buffy’s strong convictions, she must fear this man, and so must the others, since they were allowing him to hold her in such a disrespectful manner.

In addition, what was of even more concern was that not a soul responded negatively to Mister Riley’s threatening to kill Mister Toth. Clearly, this rogue did not deserve the exquisite Miss Buffy. William took an instant disliking to this brutish, disagreeable man.

“Buffy, I will see you in the morning, so we can review what our research uncovered.”

“Okay, see you in the morning Giles. Wills, I’ll catch up with you at the dorms. Oh, have fun, guys!”

William watched Miss Buffy and Mister Riley leave, while Mister Giles, Miss Willow, and the other young man, began diligently reviewing the numerous books spread out before them.

While they chatted among themselves, William took in his surroundings. Dozens of books lined the walls, and the furnishings, even though they appeared strange, felt welcoming.

Once he gave the room a preliminary perusal, William’s thoughts returned to Miss Buffy. He felt his earlier reactions returning tenfold. William feared the others would see his look of longing and, even more daunting, notice his body’s traitorous reaction. It was of the highest priority to gain self-control. With deep breaths, he lowered his head and focused on his folded hands in an attempt to attain a level of calm.

With his head bowed, William immediately noticed something quite odd concerning his hands. He unfurled and splayed his fingers to view them the better. Why were his fingernails blackened with lacquer?

Perplexed, William extended his gaze. He wore all black, almost as if in mourning. Compelled to see more, he stood and further inspected himself. He wore a black leather trench-coat, an improperly formfitting shirt, and trousers, both made of strange fabrics. In complete shock, William felt the room spinning and collapsed on the couch behind him.

“Oh, dear Lord,” he muttered before everything went black.










Author’s Notes:

October 10th was the date when “Replacements” originally aired. This was in 2000, not 1879…of course!

Bethlam’s Royal Hospital, also known as Bedlam: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bethlem_Royal_Hospital “a psychiatric hospital located in London, United Kingdom and part of the South London and Maudsley NHS Foundation Trust. Although no longer based at its original location, it is recognised as the world's first and oldest institution to specialise in mental illnesses”

Colonial Missionary Society: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missionary#The_British_missionary_societies
Overall, people would go abroad and at home and would try to convert people to Christianity and try to teach them to be a “respectable member of society.”

End Notes:
*peeking through fingers* Please take a moment to let me know whatcha think. :)
Chapter 3 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Okay, here's the next chapter to my tale. I hope you all enjoy this quite lengthy chapter! Big thanks to my awesome betas Sanityfair and Diebirchen. You ladies are the best!!! Also, amazing banner by Edgehead.
Buffy felt completely out of sorts. It was like she’d entered into some sort of alternative reality, and now everything was just plain wrong.

This weird trip to the flip side all started with Spike. How did him getting blasted and playing dead, well—more dead, suddenly become the Scooby’s or more specifically, her problem?

Even though she’d never actually read the Slayer’s handbook, she knew there wasn’t anything in there saying saving vamps, especially annoying bleached ones, was part of her sacred duty. Yet, tonight she was out voted to do just that.

What bugged her even more was when did eyeing Spike with anything besides absolute disgust and loathing become an option? True, without the distraction of his mouth flapping a mile a minute, she was able to really get a good look at him, but why did that mean her thoughts had to go there?

Then there was Riley. While heading back to the dorms, she started feeling like everything was returning to normal. Well, as normal as Sunnydale could be. They were talking, and she was hoping for some “alone time” with him, of which there hadn’t been a lot between Dracula’s thrall and Dawn’s kidnapping.

Then again, she should’ve known normal wasn’t in the cards. It was Tuesday after all.

The very minute they walked though the door her plans of mass seduction were squelched. It all started with the phone ringing and a frantic Willow on the other end saying Spike had passed out, and they couldn’t wake him.

Next, a discussion that soon turned into a heated argument with Riley, regarding how he felt she hadn’t made enough time for him lately. This was followed by her adamant denial. Then the whole mess ended with them parting ways, with her heading over to Giles’ and Riley back to his apartment.

This brought her to the here and now, with a stress-filled Buffy stomping down the darkened streets of Sunnydale, wishing for a vamp with delusions of grandeur to happen by. Since she couldn’t relieve her tension the fun way, a little slayage would suffice.

When she arrived at Giles’, still wound tighter than a snare drum after a fight-less walk, she stormed in without knocking. Her voice matching her brash entrance.

“Okay, this better be good! I’m really not so happy about missing alone time with Riley—for him!”

Within three strides Buffy hovered over Spike’s prone, unconscious form, eyeing him with clear disdain.

Giles looked up from his book and studied his Slayer following her whirlwind arrival.

“Ah, Buffy. Welcome back. I assure you, I told Willow to leave William. With all that transpired tonight, he must’ve been quite overwhelmed. So much so, William um…reacted.”

“Reacted?” Buffy features scrunched with slight confusion.

“He got all swooney and passed out, the big girl!” Xander snickered before returning to pilfering Giles’ cabinets for a late night snack.

“So let me get this straight. You interrupted what little time I have alone with my boyfriend ‘cause Spike fainted?” Buffy’s gaze shifted and zeroed in on Willow, who sat in a chair positioned close to Spike.

“Buffy, I tried everything! I even heated up some blood Giles had left over in the freezer and nothing!” Willow’s pleading expression soon affected Buffy.

It was way beyond her why they wouldn’t want the bleached pest quiet and out of the way. However, despite the irritation boiling up inside, like the good little Slayer she was, she relented, but not before heaving a weary sigh.

“Well, since my night is totally shot, I’ll help with research. The sooner we find out what Mister Badly-in-need-of-heavy-moisturizing did to Spike. The sooner we can undo it, the better.”





Buffy awoke gradually. Her gaze hazily focused on dozens of tiny smudges lying just beyond the tip of her nose. Feeling slightly disjointed, she blinked to clear her vision. Before long she realized she was up close and personal with one of Giles’ old books.

Lifting her face from the worn page, she sat up slowly and stretched. She savored the popping of slightly stiffened joints and the gentle pulling of her once idle muscles. Buffy eyed the book with distaste as she rubbed her cheek.

Great! With my luck I probably have nasty, old ink all over my face.

Buffy looked around Giles’ apartment and soon realized she was alone. Her study buddies were nowhere in sight. Even Giles had pulled a David Copperfield. Grumbling, she stood to make her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Sliding out from behind the desk, she spied a note lying above her makeshift pillow.


Buffy,

I had class this morning and Xander had to finish a job at the construction site. Giles will be back after checking out some books about Toth he has at the Magic Box. Please take care of Spike William until he gets back. Oh, and we really need to talk, Missy!

Willow



“Hey! The only way ‘Not It’ works is if everyone is awake when it’s done! What, they think I have nothing better to do than babysit Mister Amnesia all day?”

Buffy mumbled while crumbling the note into a small ball before shooting it in a nearby waste paper basket. When the shot went wide, Buffy continued grumbling as she picked it up. While leaning over to grab the offending paper off the floor, she noticed Spike still sleeping on the couch.

He looked so peaceful with a tartan blanket tucked around him and gathered up under his chin. His hair was a riot of unruly curls. Buffy suddenly felt the strange urge to rake her fingers through them to see if they were as soft as they looked.

Lost in her stare-fest, Buffy startled when he drowsily shifted into a sitting position and raised his arms over his head. While he stretched he let out a lengthy, deep sound resembling a growl.

Only moments earlier, he looked so harmless and docile. Almost human. Then when he moved, the blanket lowered and her thoughts instantly changed. With the blackness of his tee contrasting against pale skin and the distinctive growl, he now appeared to be the epitome of what he truly was—a lithe and deadly predator.

Although Buffy never admitted this before: in his dangerousness lay exquisite beauty. A beauty even a Slayer could not ignore and was strangely, faintly drawn to.

Still admiring him, Buffy was caught unaware when she was met with a pair of perceptive blue eyes. Even before she and Spike became locked in this bizarre truce, Buffy felt he always knew what she was thinking or feeling without a single word.

She broke from her thoughts when she heard a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice coming from Spike—William’s.

“Please, pardon me. I must’ve fallen asleep. I had such a peculiar dream. I dreamt I wasn’t myself and wore the strangest clothing and…” William looked down at his chest and gasped.

“Oh, dear…it wasn’t a nightmare! I…I…”

Buffy watched William’s eyes losing focus. She stepped forward to try to calm him down so he didn’t faint…again.

“Hey, breathe…breathe. That’s right—in and out…in and out. Keep doing that while I go and get a paper bag so you don’t go all black-outy again.”

She rushed into the kitchen and started rummaging through Giles’ cabinets in search of a paper bag. After the fourth cabinet she stopped, realizing the absurdity of it all.

Hello, slayer 101! Vampires don’t breathe! That's why they don’t faint!

Despite knowing this, Buffy felt the need to do something since she could still hear him breathing heavily.

Water! In the movies water solves everything! From someone delivering a baby, to calming upset people, they all go with water!

Buffy quickly filled a tumbler and rounded the dividing wall heading over to the couch. As she handed him the glass, thankfully he appeared to have calmed down some. She was so glad she wouldn’t have to explain to Giles why Spike was still passed out when he came back.

He nodded his thanks and with a slightly shaky hand, brought the glass to his lips. After several small sips, he took a deep, settling breath before looking up at her.

“Thank you, Miss Buffy.”

Buffy sat on the chair near the couch. She didn’t speak until he appeared for the most part relaxed.

“So what got you all stiff-legged goat?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I once watched this show on The Discovery Channel or maybe it was Animal Planet. Well, whichever station it was, there were these goats that when they got all scared they fainted. It was pretty funny seeing these things running around one minute, and the next they looked like they were playing freeze-tag!”

When Buffy finished her explanation and after a few giggles, she looked over to him, and he appeared even more confused.

After her random ranting, Buffy had nothing else to say. It was weird; she never had a hard time thinking of things to say to Spike before. She always had a threat or insult at the ready. Yet, seeing him so unnerved, she didn’t feel right poking fun.

Huh? When did making fun of Spike ever become a thing not to do? Maybe when he’s not Spike, but William. I guess this adds another reason to the ever-growing list of confusing things when dealing with…whoever he is.

Buffy’s eyes darted around the room looking for something to talk about to fill the awkward silence between them. She noticed his borrowed pair of glasses on the coffee table. Without a word, she handed them to him. With a soft “Thank you, Miss Buffy,” he slid them on and his gaze returned to hers.

Before things could get even more awkward, Buffy stood and headed over to the desk. Trying to keep busy, she started turning the pages of her temporary pillow-book. Even though she’d been over it, what felt like a dozen times, she needed something to focus on besides the memory-deficient blond.

After reading a passage for the fourth time about Lethe’s Bramble and magically induced amnesia, Buffy welcomed William’s interruption.

“Pardon me, Miss Buffy?”

Looking up from the tiny print, she saw a still visibly uncomfortable William.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, might I inquire when will Mister Giles be returning?”

“I don’t know. He’s checking out a mountain of moldy books at the Magic Box. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Do you believe Mister Giles would be offended if I utilized the services of his valet without permission?”

“His valet? He doesn’t have anyone parking the Giles-mobile. Plus, why do you need his car?”

“Car? I am not familiar with that terminology referring to a valet’s duties. I merely needed his valet’s services to tend to a more um, private matter.”

Buffy studied William. She noticed the puzzled look on his face now mirrored how she felt. Since she was alone in taking care of Mister Bourne Identity, Buffy knew she had to figure out what was wrong. Closing the book, she headed over to the couch.

“Well, it’s just you and me, William. Despite how I so don’t want to know what this ‘private matter’ is, I have to ask what’s the what before Giles comes back and chews me out for being a bad vamp sitter.”

Buffy watched William furrow his brow giving him an almost Bert uni-brow look. Before she could ask, “What?” he took the lead.

“Miss Buffy, please pardon my words, as they may be misconstrued as disrespectful. However, I am regretfully unable to decipher yours and their meanings, and that in turn makes it difficult to respond.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I forgot you understand only Watcher-talk. Well, okay, I can do this. I’m the Slayer, and I have a Watcher, so…”

Buffy started pacing and softly talking to herself while trying to figure out a way to explain. Stopping abruptly, she felt William watching her. Without him saying a word, she could tell she was further confusing him. She wouldn’t be surprised if he bypassed confusion and decided to crown her Miss Crazy-Girl USA.

“Well, since we’re lost in translation here, let’s KISS.” When William’s eyes widened, Buffy tried to explain quickly, “Ya know, Keep It Simple Stupid. Oh wait! I’m not saying you’re stupid, or I’m stupid. It’s only…never mind. Okay, let’s try this again. Here’s the deal. Let’s just talk. No more big Watcher-words on your part and no more pop-culture references on mine. Deal?”

“Deal, Miss Buffy.”

“Okay, in five words or less, tell me what you need.”

Buffy watched William becoming instantly flustered. He started shifting uncomfortably as his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed hard with each swallow, and his skin took on a faint pinkish hue. Was he blushing.

“I have need of a privy, please.”

“Huh? You what the what?”

“The privy.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time. I’m just not too fluent with Briticisms. Oh, I know! Describe what a privy is, and I’ll try to figure it out. Ya know like charades. Well, charades with words. So I guess it’s not really charades, but you know what I mean.”

“I am afraid for the most part, I do not. However, it is of the utmost importance we understand one another, so I will attempt to explain.”

Buffy waited for William to begin. She watched him start and stop several times, yet he still hadn’t spoken. His features and demeanor displayed how difficult for whatever reason, this was for him.

It was strange. Not too long ago, Buffy would’ve reveled in Spike’s discomfort and silence. Yet, with him looking so William-ish: with the glasses, curly hair, and rigid body language, he tugged at her heartstrings, and she actually felt sorta bad he was having such a hard time.

“Look, I get you’re being all Mister Respectful, and that’s really cool and far better than your usual death threats and sexual innuendos, but if I’m going to understand, you just need to spit it out.”

“Spit…it…out?”

“Yeah, explain and I’ll go from there, okay?”

William took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly when he finally spoke, his voice a mere whisper.

“I need to urinate.”

“Now, that wasn’t too hard, now wa…what? Wait, did you just say you have to go to the bathroom?”

His eyes opened slowly. Buffy believed in addition to major embarrassment, there was a hint of relief settling in those blues.

“If the bathroom is a place where one needs to visit to relieve oneself then yes.”

“Huh. I don’t know why you have to go in there. It’s not like you really need to you know, go. You know what? I so don’t need to know why. Just go ahead, you know where it is.”

With a slight nod, William slid the blanket off his lap and stood. Buffy watched as he rounded the couch and started walking.

She noticed instantly his usually swagger was gone, replaced by a reserved, almost timid pace. While lost in thought, Buffy almost missed William heading toward and now opening Giles’ front door.

He’s heading outside, into direct sunlight. With no blanket!

Without a second thought, Buffy rushed to the slightly ajar door and slammed it closed.

“Where are you going? Geez, you would’ve thought self-preservation trumped memory loss!”

With her palms remaining firmly pressed against the wood, Buffy tried catching her breath. While doing so she struggled to convince herself she was panting from rushing and definitely not from the scare he just gave her. Once she got her breathing under control, she looked over to William.

If she didn’t know better, he looked scared. Even though that emotion didn’t seem at home on Spike’s face, it didn’t matter. She finally accepted the truth. He really wasn’t Spike, but William.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s, well, you can’t go outside. You’re a…forget it…that’s not important right now. Let’s leave it at you can’t go outside during the day.”

“I understand. Even though this is all terribly confusing, I trust you have my best interest at heart, Miss Buffy. If I may be so bold. Be as it may that I am unable to venture outside, my immediate and pressing issue still remains.”

“What…oh, that. I don’t even know why you were going outside anyway. The bathroom is down the hall.”

“Mister Giles’ privy is not located at the furthest end of his garden, but in his home? Well, that is quite interesting.”

“Yeah, so, um let me show you where…”

Not finishing her sentence, Buffy turned and started walking down the hallway with William dutifully following. When they reached the bathroom, Buffy pushed opened the door, stepped inside, and flicked on the light.

That’s when things went from weird to totally bizarre. One minute she’s standing there. The next she was being pulled out of the room and tackled to the ground with William sprawled out on top of her.

Despite her face being pressed into the floor, Buffy’s aggravated tone was loud and unmistakable.

“What the hell are you doing!”

William quickly lifted up, and off of her, stood then extended his hand to help her up.

Buffy ignored his hand and stood on her own, brushing away nonexistent dirt from her clothes. Before she could further give him a tongue lashing for becoming a human, well a demon, blanket, William spoke. His tone was uncharacteristically strong and assured.

“Miss Buffy, I truly regret my rash behavior. However, I feared the bright light was an explosion of some kind. At that very moment I experienced an overwhelming sense of duty to keep you safe, despite my very own well-being and proper etiquette. I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies.”

Buffy was taken aback by his words. True, she hated when the men in her life treated her with kid gloves. Yet, somehow this was different. This was done more to be chivalrous and protective. Totally not in a I-know-what’s-best-for-you-cause-I’m-the-man kind of way, she’d experienced in the past.

Above all this, what really tamed her inner shrew was the concerned and apologetic expression conveyed through his heart-felt expression. She recalled him giving her this same look when they bickered over their exes during their brief magically induced engagement. It was this look that instantly deflated any anger surging inside her then as well as now.

“Oh, well, thanks. No worries. That wasn’t an explosion though. I only turned on the lights.”

She stepped inside the bathroom and gestured to the brass sconces mounted on either side of the mirror. William hesitantly entered the room, remaining close to the doorway, and slowly took in his surroundings.

“Miss Buffy, this is utterly wondrous!”

He studied the lights from a distance with the look of total amazement. He held the same look as a child on Christmas morning.

Becoming bolder, William cautiously reached for the light switch. With a nod of ‘go ahead’ from Buffy, he flicked it off. They were only in the dark momentarily before he turned it back on.

On and off, on and off, William continued until Buffy was getting a slight headache from the simulated strobe lights. When the light came on for what she felt like the twentieth time, Buffy gently placed her hand over his.

“All right, enough Saturday Night Fever for one bathroom trip. I’m going to step out so you can um, do your business.”

Buffy turned to leave but stopped when hearing William’s bashful voice.

“Um, Miss Buffy, where do I…”

“You don’t know where you…?” With a resigned shake of his head, Buffy sighed softly and walked over to the toilet.

“Okay, you do your business, well, in there and then you flush.”

To demonstrate, she pushed down the lever. William leaned forward, his eyes widening from the swooshing sound and the water swirling in the bowl. Once again, the look of amazement returned and brightened his face.

“Absolutely brilliant!” William reached for the handle, but Buffy stopped him by blocking the lever with her hand.

“Yeah, unlike the lights you can’t keep flushing. The porcelain gods will be none to happy if you do, and you’ll end up flooding the place. Just wait till after you…you know.”

Not staying for the “show,” Buffy turned and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She made her way to the couch and plopped down on the cushions feeling absolutely exhausted.

If trying to explain something as simple as a trip to the bathroom was this complicated, how will explaining he’s actually a Master vampire and it’s the year 2000, go?

Yeah, that’s all Giles. I had to deal with potty training a vamp. He can handle the self-rediscovery stuff.

Lost in her thoughts, Buffy didn’t realize William was standing there until she heard him speak.

“Um, Miss Buffy, has Mister Giles returned?”

Buffy felt her nerves slightly grating with this question. She didn’t mean to become irritated, but hearing this question again reminded her of the times when you’re on a car trip from hell and there’s always that one person constantly asking, “Are we there yet?”

She took a deep, steady breath and looked up at him. In contrast to the bleached hair and Spike’s typical attire, William’s presence clearly radiated a shy, timid man who was completely out of his element.

“What’s wrong, William?”

“Um, I rather feel the nature of this subject is one that ought not be discussed with a lady.”

“Well, Giles never left an ETA. So this leaves you with three choices: wait for him to come back, figure it out yourself, or ask me. You choose.”

Buffy could tell William was struggling with his decision. While waiting, she noticed him shifting and pressing his thighs together. So even though he was clearly embarrassed, what his mind believed that his body had to do ultimately made the decision for him.

“Yes, well, before I explain my predicament, please understand my words are not intended to sully your virtuous nature or sensibilities.”

“Yup, got it. You’re not trying to be all pervy. Go ahead, say it.”

“It seems I am having a difficulty releasing my trousers. In addition to the peculiar and constricting manner of the fabric, there is an unfamiliar mechanism binding them together.”

While William talked his head remained bowed in apparent shyness. Buffy struggled to hear him.

Did he just say what I think he said?

In spite of her mind buzzing with dozens of questions, all she could manage was, “Huh?”

“Please, pardon my crudeness, but it would be more effective if I show you.” Without further warning, William pulled aside the denim flap covering his zipper.

“See here. Now, I believe this metal rivet is a button. I am quite familiar with them and their workings. However, where my bewilderment lies is with this strange metal fastening.”

Buffy knew she should look away. Yet, almost like a train wreck, she couldn’t. Her mind went totally blank, as her eyes fixed on this ‘strange metal fastening,’ or more specifically the clearly bulging area trapped behind said fastening.

The sound of the door opening broke the staring contest Buffy had with William’s impressive zipper region. It was as though Giles’ voice was a starting gun. Upon hearing it, Buffy stood and headed over to the desk, hurriedly collecting her few belongings.

Buffy made a point to stay focused on her task and not to look at the male she was just ogling. She was far too embarrassed to meet William’s gaze, even though she felt his eyes now trained on her.

“Buffy, William? Ah, I see you’re both awake. Fortunately, I have secured numerous books about Toth and his choice of weaponry. Hopefully, we will be—“

“Yeah, that we will only be you and William. I’ve gotta go. There’s lots of studying and um, studying to do. So bye.”

Buffy slid on her jacket and pocketed her possessions. Before heading out, she turned toward Giles.

“Oh and you need to show William how to work a zipper.” Without waiting for a response, she closed the door soundly behind her.










Author’s Notes:

Stiffed leg goat or fainting goats are a type of goats: “whose muscles freeze for roughly 10 seconds when the goat is startled. Though painless, this generally results in the animal collapsing on its side…When startled, younger goats will stiffen and fall over. Older goats learn to spread their legs or lean against something when startled, and often they continue to run about in an awkward, stiff-legged shuffle.”

A valet is “a man's male servant who performs personal services (as taking care of clothing)” http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/valet. Also, as you know, they park cars—so Buffy wasn’t wrong either.

If you haven’t been able to suss out, a privy is a bathroom. Before indoor plumbing, the privy or aka outhouse, was located near the garden. I guess when you use cow poop for fertilizer, it trumps the smell of human excrement.

The zipper, as we know them today, was not introduced until 1913. There were a few false starts before then, but it didn’t really gain popularity until 1913.

It’s cool how past inconveniences of a zipper-less society made this chapter! Also, you learn something new everyday!

ETA=estimated time of arrival






End Notes:
Please take a moment to let me know whatcha think. Please?
Chapter 4 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Here's the next chapter to my tale. Big thanks to my amazing beta Sanityfair! Love ya lady! If you haven't taken a look at her story And It Spreads--you need to! Okay, enough chatting, on with the story!
After leaving Giles, Buffy headed back to the dorms to wash away the old book smell and overwhelming confusion. When she entered her room, freshly showered and wrapped in her favorite fuzzy robe, she noticed the time was noon. Without much debate, she easily decided to ditch her remaining classes and declared today a “pampering Buffy day.”

Said pampering started with a manicure, followed by a pedicure. While relaxing in the massage chair and relishing the hot water bubbling around her weary feet, she admired her perfectly pink polished fingernails. She hoped they lasted at least one night before some demon ruined them.

While the matching pink polish on her toes dried, the stylist started on her hair. When it was finally perfectly coiffed—after a root touch-up and the addition of subtle hi-lights, followed by a wash, cut, and blow-dry, she headed out, eager for some more “me time.”

Two hours later, Buffy emerged from the last of many boutiques with another bag of goodies. Her last purchase of a racy, black bra and panty set had her slightly elated. Nothing beats lacy unmentionables to make you feel sexy and a tad naughty.

Topping off the perfect day, she stopped by the Espresso Pump for a sugared-up mocha with extra whipped cream and a chocolate-chip muffin. While savoring the chocolaty goodness, she people watched.

It was interesting how everyone passing by appeared so content. They acted completely unaware of all that happened in Sunnydale when the sun went down or if they truly did know, they chose not to pay it any mind. Envious of their blissful denial, Buffy decided even if it was only for a few hours, she would join them and do the same.

As day gave way to night and the sky became a kaleidoscope of jeweled hues, Buffy decided her time visiting Mayberry was over, and she had to come back to the harsh, demon-filled reality that was her life.

With a parting wistful look at all the normal people living their normal lives, she headed toward her dorm room, taking the scenic route.

When she finally reached her destination, Buffy hesitated, dreading to end her carefree, relaxing day. With her hand resting on the knob, she inhaled deeply, preparing herself for what lingered beyond the door—her life.

Resigned she couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer; she slowly turned the knob and entered. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed Willow wasn’t there. She really wasn’t in the mood to have the deep, sharing conversation she knew Willow had in mind, based on the note she left this morning.

With a lingering smile, Buffy sorted and put away the day’s buys then quickly changed into some comfortable kick-ass wear. After strategically placing several stakes on her person, she slid on her favorite waist-length, leather jacket and headed out to patrol.

As Buffy trekked through Restfield cemetery her mind wandered to Giles’ unexpected guest—the really confusing and deeply confused blond. Even though today was strictly a “Buffy” day, she found her thoughts repeatedly returning to him.

This afternoon while watching people going about their day, she wondered what the world was like when William was alive. With the impromptu history lesson this morning she knew they didn’t have electricity, toilets, or zippers.

Buffy gulped when she thought about the last and very revealing lesson. She’d felt like a first class perv gawking at his strange metal fastening. All he was trying to do was figure out how to unzip his pants, and she eyed him like he was some Chippendale dancer sans the shiny pecs and dollar-filled thong.

Mmm…now that’s an image. Seeing his oil-slicked body shimming and shaking to Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and me with an endless supply of dollar bills. Now that’s—“

Buffy was cut off mid-thought when a vamp unexpectedly grabbed her from behind. Instinctually she threw her head back, striking her attacker’s face with a head butt. Feeling his arms loosen around her waist, she grabbed one of his wrists and leaned forward, launching the vamp over her back. He landed hard several feet away. Buffy skillfully unsheathed the stake tucked in her waistband and stormed forward as the vamp stood.

“Hello, rude much? I’m not an all you can eat buffet! Well, maybe I am… here’s a stake!”

As she lunged forward to plunge her stake home, the vamp unpredictably spun and landed a roundhouse kick squarely to her mouth. Buffy staggered backward, knocking over, and breaking a headstone in two. She landed on top of it with a resounding thud, causing her teeth to gnash together. The impact forced the stake out of her hand, and it rolled out of reach, several feet away.

Before Buffy could regain her mental balance, the vamp jumped on top of her. He straddled her midsection, effectively pinning her arms with his inner thighs. She tried to move her legs to dislodge him, but she couldn’t gain purchase on the slick stone beneath her.

With a hiss, he lunged forward. Buffy’s eyes slammed shut waiting for the sting of his fangs. The pain never came. Instead, her eyes flashed open following a loud howl of death and the loss of the weight once pressing against her.

Buffy focused on who now loomed above her. The bright moonlight emphasized his unmistakable halo of white hair. Before she could speak, Spike had taken the other vamp’s place straddling her waist, yet he didn’t restrain her arms.

Despite how easily she could extricate herself, she remained pinned by his golden stare. His head characteristically tilted while his eyes darting over her face. When he seemed to find what he was looking for, he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders. His nostrils flared while he took in her scent, before he lowered his head.

Buffy’s inner-warning bells sounded to a deafening level, still she couldn’t move. Even though she knew this was wrong, somewhere deep inside her—the untouched primal part, found this strangely erotic and craved it.

She watched his tongue passing the row of jagged fangs, stretching to a refined point. She then felt the raspy tip brushing against her chin and languidly traveling upward following the thin trail of blood. When he reached her slightly bloodied mouth, his tongue swirled around the ragged gash marring her bottom lip before he started suckling the wound.

Buffy felt her entire body igniting from this extremely arousing yet highly risqué act. The vibrating, hard planes of his chest brushed against hers triggering her nipples to pebble, and she felt his evident erection pressing into her stomach causing the area between her thighs to pulsate and dampen.

Even though lost in these sensations, she felt him releasing her lip and with a parting lap, Spike shifted his face into her line of vision. Her hazy vision flickered over his demonic but exquisite features.

Buffy’s eyes landed and focused on his mouth. She noticed the smudge of her blood on his lips. This sight immediately pushed past the lustiness and triggered the Slayer inside to finally react. Buffy brought up her hands, placed them on his chest, and with all her strength shoved him off her.

Skillfully she sprang up and took off through the cemetery without looking back as though the devil himself was on her heels. At this moment, in her mind she believed Spike was truly that.

She didn’t slow until she reached the safety of Revello Drive. Clambering up the side of her house, she climbed through her bedroom window and headed toward the bed.





When the first rays of the morning light flittered through the window, Buffy sat on her bed still dressed in the clothing from the night before, clutching a stake to her breast. She hadn’t moved all night.

Finally with the safety of the sun, Buffy began robotically readying for the day. With her mind still on the evening’s events, she donned her jacket and pocketed Mr. Pointy. Buffy left the way she came and the instant her feet hit the ground, her mind shifted to her day’s purpose.

With absolute intent, she headed through the streets of Sunnydale. When she reached her destination, without knocking and with a force of a windstorm, she entered Giles’ apartment.

Her gaze immediately zeroed in on her target. Within three strides she approached Spike sitting on the couch with Giles, the last of their conversation still hanging in the air.

“Ah, good morning Buffy. William and I have been discussing—“

Buffy ignored Giles as she roughly grabbed Spike by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him to his feet.

“How dare you! You may have fooled everyone else, but I’m not so easily tricked and this charade ends now, Spike!”

With each word Buffy stepped forward, jabbing her finger into Spike’s chest causing him to step back. Their movements created a macabre dance around the room as Buffy purposely steered him toward the open front door.

“You’re lucky I’m letting you leave with all your limbs attached. You know that right? Or maybe I shouldn’t be so generous and stake your undead ass,” Buffy removed Mr. Pointy and raised it, “faster than you can say bloody… hell?”

Buffy’s last word didn’t come out with the same intensity as the others when her brain finally caught up with her mouth. Her bewildered gaze now focused intently on Spike standing in the courtyard— bathed in direct sunlight.
End Notes:
So...whatcha think? Don't be shy!
Chapter 5 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Okay! I hope you're still with me! Just quickly, big thanks to my amazing betas: Sanityfair and Diebirchen--SO LOVE YOU LADIES! Also, thanks to Edgehead for the lovely banner.
“So when did Spike join the tweed-brigade?”

Buffy mockingly asked Giles, who sat with her on the couch. After their initial shock of seeing Spike in the sun sans flameage, Giles led him inside, where Spike immediately excused himself and headed off to the bathroom. He’d been there ever since. In his absence, Buffy informed Giles of the previous evening’s events, minus her lusty reactions.

“I’ll have you know, Buffy, I had no hand in choosing his attire. I only offered him a change of clothing.”

“Uh-huh. So he just naturally gravitated toward the Watcher-section of your wardrobe? Wait, never mind, that’s your entire wardrobe.”

“Buffy, while I find your fashion views quite enlightening, we have far more pressing issues to discuss.” Giles fixed Buffy with a serious look.

“Pressing issues like teaching him the wondrous workings of a zipper?”

“Thankfully he was a quick study, and I only needed to show him once…” Buffy’s meticulously shaped brow rose along with her smile, forcing Giles to add, “on a spare pair of trousers, mind you.”

“That’s too bad. I would’ve loved seeing you play Dapper Dan with him. But yeah, you’re right. We have bigger fish to fry. Like how can … what should we call him … Spike or William—maybe Spilliam? Anyway, whatever his name is, how can he go from a total sun allergy to needing major SPF 60?”

“I am in absolute agreement, Buffy. I find this all quite intriguing. However, I do not recall anywhere in the Watcher’s Diaries a spell rendering a vampire completely impervious to sunlight.” Giles stood and headed over to his wall-length library.

Buffy watched him eyeing and eventually pulled out one from many of the Watcher’s Diaries lining the shelf. He opened the dusty tome and carefully turned the pages, after giving each a cursory scan. While he searched for the answer in his book, Buffy searched her memories. Then, like a lighting-bolt, it struck her.

“I do, Giles. But it wasn’t a spell. It was the Gem of Amara. I don’t know how he got it away from Angel, but—“

Without another word, Buffy stood and rushed down the hallway with Giles on her heels. Stopping abruptly in front of the closed bathroom door, Buffy motioned to Giles with her eyes to knock. After a resigned headshake, he rapped twice against the wood.

“Um, Sp—William? Are you all right?”

When no answer came from the other side, Buffy mouthed to Giles, “Go ahead.” He retorted with a mimic-mouthed, “You.” She rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance, before announcing a warning while turning the knob.

“Look, we’re coming in! You have all about two seconds to get decent, and then—“

Buffy entered with Giles following closely behind. She quickly scanned the room and noticed Spike standing facing the mirror with his hands clenched in a death-grip on either side of the sink.

Giles and Buffy cautiously moved behind him. Both of their eyes widened almost comically when they spied what he was seeing—his reflection.

“This is all very confusing. I cannot fathom what possessed me to alter my appearance so drastically.” His voice wobbled while his gaze never left the mirror.

Deciding avoidance was the best option, Giles put his arm around William’s shoulder and gradually led him out of the bathroom. Along the way, he invited William to join them for breakfast.

William, which Buffy was resigned to call him, sat silently in the living room while she and Giles prepared breakfast. Well, she didn’t cook exactly, but this gave them time away to discuss what was going on.

“Giles, this is getting really weird. And for me to say things are weird, they have to be uber bizarre.” Buffy placed another round of bread into the toaster, since she burned the first ones.

“I have to agree, Buffy. While I was leading William into the living room, I noticed he was breathing quite heavily—“

“Spike always has that weird breathing thing going on,” Buffy interjected.

“Does this include him perspiring as well?” Giles briefly stopped slicing tomatoes to give Buffy a pointed look.

“He’s sweating?” Buffy startled slightly when the toaster popped up two more burned pieces.

“Yes, quite profusely, actually. I noticed this when I was guiding him into the living room. Based on this and everything else we have witnessed, suffice to say I believe William, or Spike if you will, is human.” Giles cracked two eggs into the frying pan next to several sizzling links of sausage.

“Human? Then how do you explain vamp William last night?” Buffy tried scraping the charred layer off the bread before she resigned to throw them away and start again.

“I can’t, not at this moment. It requires more research.” Giles turned toward Buffy who was reaching into the sleeve of the bread package, pulling out two more pieces.

“Well, after breakfast you need to whip out the oldie moldies, and I’ll call in the troops. We all have a fun-filled afternoon ahead of us,” Buffy grumbled, as she lowered the lever on the toaster.

When Giles was done cooking, Buffy helped with plating and serving. William took his plate from her with a soft, “Thank you, Miss Buffy.”

While they ate, silence soon gave away to conversation. As the Englishmen sat on the couch enjoying a traditional meal of fried eggs and tomatoes, sausages, toast, and tea, Buffy sat on an adjacent chair, nibbling on a piece of toast Giles had thankfully made.

She was totally engrossed watching their interaction. They acted like two old friends instead of a Watcher and a former Master vampire.

“Mister Giles, earlier you informed me we are in the year of our Lord, two thousand. This is one hundred and twenty-one years from the last memory I can recall. I find this rather amazing. Even though Mother frowned upon the literary works on time travel, I continued indulging my interest privately—”

What else did he do privately? Did it involve taming the beast hiding behind his zipper?

Buffy’s inner-slut questioned with a lusty whisper. Quickly, Buffy subdued Miss Slutty Von Slut with a sharp disciplinary scolding courtesy of her super-ego and tried to focus on the on-going conversation happening outside of her head.

“There are many stories, both fictional and fairytale alike giving numerous views as to how time travel could be achieved. For example, Walter Map’s De Nugis Curialium,in the first section “Distinctio prima,” Briton King Herla was transported with his hunting party over two centuries into the future by the enchantment of a mysterious pygmy. There is also Johan Herman Wessel’s novel Anno 7603 when the two main characters are transported into the future by a good fairy. Oh, and clearly we cannot forget the American author Washington Irving’s interpretation in “Rip Van Winkle.” However, I cannot directly relate to Mister Van Winkle personally, since I have not fallen victim to sloth, nor do I partake in spirits to the point of inebriation.”

Even though Buffy couldn’t follow his words after “time travel,” she found it kinda cute how excitable, well—in a stuffy British way, he was when talking about these books. Also, she almost lost it when she thought he said he had never been drunk. Now that was funny!

After William ended his lecture, he removed his glasses, pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and began cleaning the lens with gentle sweeps of the cloth.

When she looked over to Giles, who appeared to be equally taken aback by the fountain of knowledge that was William, she watched him doing the same.

Giles only stopped his habitual lens cleaning when he noticed Buffy’s amusement evident in her smile and raised eyebrow. Giles instantly stopped, donned his glasses, and returned his gaze to William.

“Ah, yes, William, I see you are well read. You would be a tremendous addition in our research in finding an explanation as to how you came to be here.”

“Mister Giles, I would be honored to help in anyway I can. Especially with all the kindness you and Miss Buffy have bestowed upon me.”

Buffy knew Giles was only lying to William to buy them time to figure out how Toth wiped away all of Spike’s memories, leaving only William’s behind, and why he was human by day and a vampire by night.

After they finished breakfast and cleaned up, the trio started in on what would most likely prove a very long day of research. Giles handed William a stack of books and instructed him to research time travel. Buffy knew it was a wild goose chase, but they needed time, and William would only follow along blindly for so long.

Two hours later, Willow came over after classes wearing a big smile and bearing a dozen donuts. At first, William seemed slightly wary of this new “preserve-filled pastry.” It didn’t take very long before he and Giles were bickering over the last jelly, and she and Willow feared bloodshed might ensue.



Thankfully, this was when Xander and Anya arrived with more food. Xander skillfully carried the pizza box and numerous bags of snacks, since Anya still had her injured arm in a sling. As they entered, both were still engrossed in an earlier conversation.

“—Xander, Buffy doesn’t realize she’s preventing our monetary gains by telling us we have to be here before sundown. Not all of us can live off our parents’ money. Your parents are drunks and mine have been dead for over a thousand years. I don’t see why she just can’t tie up Spike while they’re figuring out what’s going on. It’s not like she hasn’t tied him up before and—“

“Ahn, please, don’t use Buffy and Spike, and tied up all in the same sentence. It’s totally creating a mental picture I so don’t want to have.”

Even though the couple continued as if they weren’t standing in the middle of Giles’ apartment, it took Giles clearing his throat loudly for them to finally recognize they weren’t alone.

Xander startled slightly, then guiltily turned toward everyone staring at them. Trying his best to push past the embarrassing conversation quickly, Xander held up the food and put on his best “I’m sorry about Anya” look.

“Hey…pizza and snacks anyone?”

While Giles and William took a mini-break from researching to eat pizza and discuss the evolution of Western cuisine, Buffy and the Scoobies ate in the kitchen. Buffy took this opportunity to recap what happened last night—minus the dirty details—and what had taken place during the day.

“So Toth’s blast made Spike a real boy during the day. Who woulda thunk when he re-joined the land of the living he’d become Watcher Jr.,” Xander murmured around the rapidly disappearing slice.

“Sorry Xander. That joke has been all played out,” Buffy smirked, as she pulled two slices from the box to guarantee she had some before Xander made quick work of the whole pie.

“Rats! See that’s another reason why being an adult sucks! I missed out on poking fun at Mister Memory-Wipe!”

“Well, despite his notoriously poor choices in dress, I, for one, still find Spike ruggedly handsome and totally multiple-orgasm worthy. Also, seeing him and Giles sitting there, I stand firm behind my belief they resemble one another, so much so that they could pass for father and son,” Anya commented nonchalantly as she picked pepperonis off her pizza and casually popped them into her mouth.

The entire group stared at Anya slack-jawed, while she continued munching on her pizza and eyeing the men seated on the couch, completely oblivious to their shock.

“Okay, that’s disturbing on so many levels I can’t even start to comment, so I won’t.” Buffy dropped her slice on the paper plate and headed over to the fridge.

Buffy needed a breather to get away from the conversation, especially the Spike and multiple-orgasm part. Who was she kidding? Anya didn’t have to say anything. Buffy’s thoughts had been down that road of badness a dozen times over.

No matter how many pages of moldy, hundred-year-old books Buffy read, she couldn’t stop thinking about Spike’s tongue and what lay behind William’s zipper. Even though it was strange thinking about them as separate people, her mind did it anyway. The danger of admitting William and Spike were one and the same would definitely cause her mind to go into total sexual overload.

Buffy kept her head in the fridge attempting to cool down until she heard Giles declaring a “Eureka!” moment. Reluctantly, she extracted her head and headed over to the living room, her gaze purposefully avoiding William.

“So what’s up, Doc?” Buffy joked, trying to appear calmer than she felt.

“I’ve found several passages referring to transmogrification spells. As far as I can translate, those unfortunate enough to have this spell cast upon them are transformed into a creature designated by the spell-caster. In addition, the caster decides when, for example during a lunar cycle, these transformations take place.”

“Like a…werewolf?” Willow meekly asked, her voice wavering slightly. Buffy knew Oz was still a very sensitive subject for her. She was glad when Giles launched back into lecture mode, quickly breaking the tension.

“Not exactly, Willow. Werewolves are created when a werewolf infects a human, either through a bite or scratch. Such a human, if he or she survives, is for a lack of a better term, permanently cursed. However, transmogrification is temporary, and once the spell is broken, the person is returned to his or her natural state.”

“Oh! This is kinda like that movie Lady Hawk with that guy who’s in love with that woman, and he changes into a wolf during the day and turns back into a human at night. But in our case it’s reversed, and the spell was done by Leather-face instead of a priest-guy,” Xander muttered, through pieces of partially chewed chips.

“He was a bishop, and thank you Xander for reducing my hours of researching and translating into a dreadful 80’s movie.” Giles slammed shut the book, creating a small puff of dust.

“No prob! I’m always here to help. Just think of me as the translator for those who were born in this century.” Xander smiled, plunging his hand back into the bag of chips.

“Okay, so where does this leave William?” Willow asked her voice filled with concern.

“Unfortunately, transmogrification doesn’t explain the amnesia or how Toth’s spell drastically altered his natural state.” Giles stood and returned to the bookshelf.

“Excuse me, Mister Giles. I am quite confused. We discussed time travel and many other topics at great lengths. However, I do not recall transmogrification or amnesia in the slightest. If I might be so bold, I feel I have been quite trusting with your judgments thus far, yet I sense there are underlying topics of private discussion transpiring among all of you right under my very nose. Since this involves my very person, I demand to know.”

Buffy heard William’s usually calm voice dissolving until agitation clearly had taken over. He sounded determined to find out what was really going on.

Looking over to Giles, Buffy hoped he would answer William. The silence dragged on for several tense moments until Anya decided to take over.

“You gotta be kidding me! Forget about time travel and transmogrification. He needs to know he’s an amnesiac, century-old vampire, for Odin’s sakes!”








Author’s Notes:

I had a Dressy Bessy doll when I was little. Absolutely loved her! Her brother was called Dapper Dan. These dolls helped kids learn how to dress by teaching them how to work zippers, buttons, and the like. http://modmom.blogspot.com/2008/07/dressy-bessy-dapper-dan-playskool-ad.html

During William’s discussion he listed several books or parts of books referring to time-travel:

· De Nugis Curialium, section “Distinctio prima,” 12th century:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/De_nugis_curialium

· Johan Herman Wessel, 1781, Anno 7603:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johan_Herman_Wessel

· Washington Irving, 1819, Rip Van Winkle— a short story that is part of The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rip_Van_Winkle

Lady Hawk is a movie from 1985 with Matthew Broderick and Michelle Pfiffer. A synopsis: a forbidden love between two people. An evil priest cast a spell so they could never be together, since during the day the woman was a hawk and the man was human. At night he became a wolf, and she was human. The only time they could be together as humans was during the few moments at dusk and dawn. It’s kinda cheesy, that’s why I thought Xander would be the one to bring it up! http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0089457/

Odin is a major god in Norse mythology. Since Aud/Anya was from Sweden, I thought I should go with him. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odin




End Notes:
Please take a moment to let me know what you think. One minute on your part makes my entire day!!!
Chapter 6 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Well hello all! Sorry about the delay, but the last week and some change have been crazy! I have this nasty cold I can't shake, and now due to some freak October snow storm, I haven't had any power since Saturday night! Yet, this will not stop me posting this next chapter for all you lovely readers. Big thanks to Sanityfair and Diebirchen for their mad skills, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
Anya’s bluntly voiced line of reasoning instantly compelled everyone into total silence. When the initial shock wore off, a sudden burst of chaotic remarks followed.

“Anh!”

“Xander, doesn’t she have any tact?”

“Oh, dear Lord.”

Buffy watched the Scoobies loudly commenting to one another, but no one paid attention to the main reason for their rants—William.

She saw utter confusion rapidly change his features. His cheeks drained of what little color they once held, and his eyes lost focus. However, before Buffy unleashed her own disparaging remarks against the inconsiderate Scoobies, William beat her to it.

“That is quite enough!”

William stood hastily from the couch, displacing the sensibly placed napkin from his lap and caused it to land at his feet. His unexpected outburst stunned the others back into silence, their attention now fully focused on him.

“William, we—” Willow’s voice was shaky as she tried to explain. William interjected, not giving her a chance to continue.

“Miss Willow, to be brutally honest, at this precise moment I am unconcerned regarding the group’s thoughts on this matter. Despite the sheer madness and the utmost certainty that these discussions of time travel would surely have one committed to Bedlam, I wholeheartedly entertained the possibility. However, what I cannot abide is the deceitfulness shared amongst you. It took a complete stranger to inform me of the group’s true theories of how I came to be here and the disconcerting belief that I am a…a revenant.”

William ended his reprimand abruptly, rounded the couch, and passed by each speechless Scooby until he reached the door. With the door slightly ajar, he turned and addressed the group before departing.

“This I cannot nor will I abide. I am a God-fearing man, not an instrument of the Devil.”

The closing of the door snapped everyone from shocked stupor. After another round of muddled questions, Buffy’s voice rose above the din.

“Giles let me go after him. We kinda bonded yesterday during his little intro to the twenty-first century. Hopefully, this will at least buy me tagging along privileges while he wanders around the not so safe streets of Sunnydale.”

“I agree, Buffy. Keeping William safe is at the very least we can do.” Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he closed his eyes briefly.

Without delay, Buffy slid on her jacket, pocketed several stakes, and turned to give instructions before she left.

“Okay, while I’m gone, research what Toth’s whammy stick did to Spike and how we can reverse it. We need to fix this ASAP.” With a parting nod, Buffy headed out, eager to find William before the sun set.

It took no time at all to locate him. William had only gone as far as the courtyard’s fountain. When she gradually approached him, she noticed his slumped shoulders and bowed head with a curtain of bleached curls concealing his downcast eyes. Not wanting to crowd him, she stopped a slight distance away.

“There you are.”

When he didn’t react, Buffy stepped closer and tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder. She was startled and drew back her hand quickly when an unexpected throaty sneer preceded his words.

“Ah, yes, here I am. Despite my intentions of making my dramatic departure permanent, there was one major flaw—I do not know where I am. You may say I am irrevocably lost.”

His low, melancholy voice slightly trembled with each word. His apparent sadness stirred dozens of feelings inside Buffy, causing her heart to actually ache for him. This ache triggered the overwhelming need to comfort him.

An image of gathering him into her arms, gently guiding his head to lie against her chest, before she began rocking—just as her mother had done for her and Dawn as far back as she could remember came to her mind. The motion of Joyce’s innate-motherly sway and the steady cadence of her heartbeat always seemed to chase away the demons and make everything all right.

Buffy knew full-well she couldn’t do that, so she settled on sitting close and offering some reassuring words.

“I’m sorry, William. I know that doesn’t really help in the grand scheme of things, but I am really sorry you’re going through all of this.”

Buffy gently laid her hand on his shoulder while hoping he didn’t mind her closeness. Thankfully, she felt him leaning toward her slightly, appearing to take solace in her touch. They remained like this until she removed her hand, which seemed to break the comfortable silence between them.

“Miss Buffy, all of these events are a mystery to me. I cannot begin to fathom how I came to be here. I question if this is but a dream. However, I have awakened several times, and yet I still remain here.”

“Curiouser and curiouser…” Buffy muttered softly, as she tried to decide the best way to explain everything without sounding completely crazy.

“I beg your pardon?” William shifted and turned toward Buffy, their knees now almost touching.

“Oh, it’s nothing. This just kinda reminded me of the movie, Alice in Wonderland, that I used to watch with my sister when we were little. It was about a girl who fell down a rabbit hole and ended up in a strange place, surrounded by all these weird people, but in the end she realized it was just a dream.”

“I do remember a book by Lewis Carroll, yet the title was slightly different. It was called Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. However, the story followed the same premise, so I do believe they are one in the same. Miss Buffy, if I am to make a bold assumption, are you comparing me to Alice?” A soft smile touched William’s lips, causing Buffy to return one of her own.

“Yeah, you’re Alice. Well, without the dress and the being a girl part. Giles can be that freaky caterpillar being all smart and talking in a way nobody really understands. Xander and Anya can be Tweedledum and Tweedledee—don’t tell them I said that! And Willow is the Dodo bird ‘cause she’s always trying to make things fair and better for everyone like he did during that race.”

“Miss Buffy, I find the characterizations of your friends are quite enlightening. So might I inquire which character you relate to?” William’s smile broadened appearing caught up in Buffy’s enthusiasm.

“I’m definitely not one from the Mad Hatter’s tea party. Or the Queen of Hearts…” She stopped for the moment then asked with less certainty, “I’m not the mean queen, am I?”

“No, Miss Buffy, you are far from being the Queen of Hearts. If I might be so bold to say, I believe you are the Cheshire cat.”

“How am I the creepy, smiling cat?” Insecurity laced her voice as her brow furrowed slightly.

“If I am Alice you are certainly the Cheshire cat. As did the cat with Alice, you have engaged me in amusing yet vexing conversations that at times exasperate and bewilder me. Yet I find them exciting all the same. In addition, despite all the madness and uncertainty, you have uplifted my spirits with your words and radiant smiles.” William bowed his head on his last word, suddenly appearing shy.

If Buffy didn’t know any better, she would have believed that William was trying to flirt with her. Yeah, it was hard to tell with all the high-scoring Scrabble words he just used, but maybe this was flirting stuffy-British-style. Whatever it was, she found it kinda cute.

Then her mind quickly changed gears. Despite how cute this was, she had to focus. It was going to be dark soon, and she needed to get him inside before his demon came out to play.

“William, I can’t begin to say how sorry I am that we weren’t exactly truthful. It’s just things are really complicated, and we tried making it easy—”

“By being deceitful?” When he lifted his head it was evident all shyness was gone, replaced by a mixture of hurt and anger blazing in his eyes.

“To be honest, yeah.”

She watched William’s jaw tighten before he stood. Buffy placed her hand on the crook of his arm to stop him from leaving.

“Wait!” He shook off her hand and turned toward her, clearly thoroughly agitated.

“Please, I’ll tell you the truth. Just please, will you sit down?”

With a heavy, resigned sigh, he sat and his gaze met hers. She took in a slow breath then going for broke, started her explanation.

William remained completely quiet as she told him about his “family” and the condensed version of the past few years. Even though his silence allowed her to explain everything quickly, his silence, at the same time, unnerved her.

When done, she waited for a response. When none came, she decided prompting him to talk.

“So…” Buffy felt her own mind spinning from her narrations; she couldn’t image how William felt.

“Um…yes, this is quite overwhelming. I can understand your concealment of the truth. Despite all you have told me, I have but one question. Am I truly this Spike fellow?”

“Yeah, you’re Spike, and you’re a—“

“Revenant—an animated corpse returning from the grave to frighten the living! A vampire!” William’s composure seemed to crumble right before her eyes, as his outrage became evident with each word until he was nearly shouting.

“Yes.” In spite of his apparent anger, Buffy remained calm.

Without warning, William grabbed her by the upper arms. His eyes were wild and unfocused.

“Then explain why can I walk in the sunlight? Why do I require breath? Is not my flesh warm, and my heart beats within my chest?” He released her upper arm and grabbed her hand, roughly placing it to his chest. She felt the steady tempo of his heart beating frantically under her palm. “How do I not desire to feed upon your blood, even though I crave all of you? Answer me this, Buffy!”

Like a violent storm, she felt trapped by his torrent emotions. She was especially enraptured by his overwhelming desire and need for her. She desperately wanted to be consumed and give in to all their desires. Yet she knew she couldn’t let this happen. Pulling away from his grasp, she stood and moved away.

“Look, I can’t explain the whys. All I know is that I need to find Toth and fix this.”

William stood and approached her. He moved within arm’s length, and even though he didn’t touch her, the radiating heat she felt from his body scorched her.

“Tell me Buffy, why do you want me back to being a creature you so clearly loathe?”

His poignant question startled her. Her mind buzzed with a dozen answers, but one explanation rushed to her mouth before she could stop it.

“I don’t, but that what’s right.”

Buffy watched as William recoiled as if her words had taken form and struck him. Even though he had only just learned of his alter ego, he clearly understood and took to heart her obvious dislike for what he once was.

She felt an instant pang of regret, seeing how her words appeared to hurt him deeply. However, before she could explain or apologize, Giles’ apartment door opened, and he stepped out into the courtyard.

“Ah, Buffy, I see you’ve found William. Since the hour is getting late, we should—“

Buffy broke from William’s fixed gaze and turned toward Giles.

“Giles, I told him everything. He knows he’s really Spike and that he’s a vampire. I also told him about Toth’s bonus blast that makes him human during the day and only fangy at night.”

“I see. So William, you are in agreement to remain tied up during the evenings until we are able to reverse this spell?” Giles voice was gentle but firm.

“Giles, I don’t think that’s ness—“ Buffy’s protest was cut short by William’s bitter voice.

“No need for objections, Miss Buffy. I am a monster, after all, and is it not an acceptable measure subduing a creature such as I by binding its limbs? Now, you must excuse me.”

William passed Buffy without giving her a second glance and headed into Giles’ apartment. When he stormed past her, she felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs, and the beginnings of hot tears stung her eyes. It took all her power not to give in to all her feelings and follow after him to try to explain.

Even with all her warring thoughts and emotions, the Slayer inside took charge. She knew she had a job to do. Taking in a steady breath, she told Giles of her plans.

“Giles, with all that’s been going on, I’ve been slacking on patrolling. While I’m out, keep researching Toth and make sure you guys don’t let William out of your sight. I’ll be back in the morning to get the skinny on what you find.”

Without another word or waiting for Giles’ response, Buffy turned and left the courtyard, heading toward Restfield Cemetery.

Giles shook his head and proceeded inside. Even though he was perplexed regarding the heated conversation he’d purposefully interrupted, he decided now wasn’t the time to talk to his Slayer about the precarious relationship forming between her and the magically altered vampire.







Author’s Notes:

Revenant: “…animated corpse that was believed to return from the grave to terrorize the living.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Revenant_(folklore)

Lewis Carroll’s book was called “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” (1865)

Disney’s 1951 movie adaptation of “Alice in Wonderland” was mainly based on “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” Disney had used the characters Tweedledee and Tweedledum, even though these characters weren’t actually introduced until Lewis Carroll’s second book, Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. (1871)
End Notes:
Trick or Treat, give me a lovely review to eat!!!!
Chapter 7 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Here is the next installment of my tale. I don't know if people are enjoying this, but I hope so. Big thanks to my lovely betas: Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Also, big thanks to Edgehead for her lovely banner!
Patience

Crouching behind a headstone, he remained as still as death. The only movement was his golden eyes tracking potential prey. He watched the small creature feasting on its latest, and if he had his way, last meal. Finally when its prey’s piercing squeaking ended, the eerie silence marked its ultimate death. He should see the irony in the fact that his prey would all too soon know the feeling of a much larger predator’s jaws around its throat. However, his mind didn’t contemplate such complex notions as irony.

Hunger

The overwhelming necessity to sate this gripping hunger made the waiting almost too much to bear. This hunger had him teetering on the brink of insanity with the need for—

Blood

This required potent life force kept his truly dead body from returning to the ground. Soon he would have his fill. Just waiting for the right moment—

Now!

With inhuman speed, he leapt from behind the stone barrier. Only focusing on his prey, he raced toward it. Despite all his advantages, his prey had but one advantage that kept it from becoming instantly defeated: size.

It was startled momentarily, before hastily dropping the remnants of its meal and darting toward the safety of a nearby bush. A faint tinkling sound was heard upon its retreat.

Hunt

Ever determined, he gave chase. Reaching its hiding place only moments after, he dropped to his knees and plunged his hand into the twisted maze of branches. He remained steadfast, regardless of the thorns scratching and tearing at his flesh. He reached further into the mass until his entire arm was engulfed as he searched blindly.

Scent

The smell of his blood mixing with his prey’s fear tickled his nose and triggered his mouth to begin to water. Still pushing and grappling, his fingers brushed against fur. This contact awarded him tiny, sharp claws creating more scratches along his flesh.

Mine

A distinctive scent, even headier than blood and fear, carried on the breeze. The instant he recognized it, in spite of his hunger he forewent pursuit of this prey for something far more tantalizing. Without a second thought, he ripped his arm from the tangled, thorny bush and raced toward his now only desire.





Buffy was determined to focus. Her last jaunt through Restfield Cemetery earned her a fight that almost didn’t end very well.

Who are you kidding? It ended really well, a hot man tending to your wounds with his talented tongue. Actually, it could’ve ended so much better, with said tongue taking care of that terrible aching between your thighs—Shut up and focus!

She quickly shut down her inner-slut’s niggling voice with her own personal Jiminy Cricket’s rebuttal. This distracting internal dialogue was what got her in trouble the last time, not only with Kung-Foo fledgling, but more so with the ‘hot man.’ If it was at all possible, she was now even more confused about Spike…or was it William?

See! I don’t even know what to call him, never mind what to think about him? It used to be so easy. Him vampire…Me Slayer. Slayer kills vampire. Night in and night out—stake and repeat. Yet there’s Spike. Even when he was my sworn enemy, I still gave him a Get-out-of-staking-free-pass. What is it about him? Why can’t I just…

Unlike last time when her mind was pre-occupied, this time all thoughts stopped when she felt that familiar tingling. Vampire. However, this was no ordinary vampire. This one was old and powerful, and she would recognize his signature tingling anywhere…

Buffy quickly scanned her surroundings. Off to her left and coming toward her at a steady pace was him. The moonlight accentuated his bleached, unruly curls and his formally preferred attire of black and leather.

“I thought it was totally understood that you needed to stay at Giles. I know you have this whole Call of the Wild thing going on, but we need to get you back before—“

Her words were cut short when she saw his face, his true face—the unmistakable ridged brow and flash of fang. Even though she’d seen his demon façade dozens of times, the determined set of his eyes matched a look from several years ago—when he wanted her dead.

“William?”

Her voice shook slightly as he continued his unwavering trek toward her. The Slayer within screamed for her to pull her weapon, but the woman inside stayed her hand. He stopped several feet before her. His head tilted while his intent gaze roamed over her. This rapt inspection thrilled and terrified her at the same time.

“Spike?”

In two steps, he invaded her personal space. Before she could respond, his nose was buried into the crook of her neck. She felt the steady inhalations of air dancing along her flesh as he breathed in her scent. Buffy’s eyes fluttered closed from the intensity of this primal act.

She felt her heart racing while he slowly ascended the column of her throat. Once he reached the shell of her ear, he lingered, taking in deep pulls causing her to quiver.

Buffy released a small whimper of protest when he finally shifted and moved away. Even though he remained close, he was no longer touching her, and the small distance between them felt so great.

Her intense desire continued to govern her actions until she smelled blood. This heady and unmistakable coppery scent instantly cleared her mind, forced her eyes open, and drew her gaze to his wounded hand, as he raised it to his mouth.

She watched with rapt interest as his tongue unfurled and began to leisurely lap up the blood welling from the wounds. Buffy imagined each stroke of his tongue exploring her body. She could feel these ghostly caresses reaching and tantalizing her most intimate places.

After several passes, his blood-tinged tongue left his knuckles before running alluringly over his fangs. Never before had she viewed a vampire’s savoring of blood as being so erotic. Yet, here she was, reflexively licking her lips in response.

Then what happened next caught Buffy completely unaware. He held his injured hand out to her. Even in his silence she knew what he wanted—for her to taste him.

True, she had done the same to Dracula only weeks before. Except this wasn’t the same. Not even close. Sampling Dracula’s blood was done merely to gain the knowledge of her true nature.

This was far different. Through a strange form of intimacy and trust, he was willingly giving himself to her on the most primitive level. Even stranger, despite how fiercely she’d been fighting against all these feelings and desires, she felt her resolve slipping to take his offering. Allthat he was offering.

With a shaky breath, Buffy’s tongue slid past her teeth, the tip nudging and parting her lips. Gradually she leaned forward, all the while remaining focused on his blood. When she was a hairbreadth away, a deep, menacing growl erupted from Spike.

Buffy instantly stopped her descent, and instinctually unsheathed and poised her stake within striking distance, or so she intended. When her brain finally caught up with her eyes, she noticed Spike had turned and was now facing off to the right.

He’d lowered himself into a protective, crouched position as his threatening growl continued reverberating from deep within his chest. She compared him to a deadly snake—all coiled up and hissing, and at any moment was ready to strike.

Her gaze followed his line of vision and she saw what, or more so who, triggered Spike’s radical mood change—Riley. While she tucked away her stake, with militant precision Riley was coming closer, his crossbow drawn and pointing directly at Spike.

“Buffy, step away, so I can get a clear shot.”

She was stunned momentarily by Riley’s authoritative tone. The only time she’d ever heard him use it was when giving orders to Professor Walsh’s lab-rat soldiers. However, what Riley failed to remember in this scenario was that the Initiative was gone and buried along with its “Nutty Professor,” and more importantly—she definitely was not a rat.

“What the hell are you doing? Back-off, Riley!”

Her unexpected demand stilled his movements, but he never lowered his weapon. She watched his face soften briefly before the hardened expression returned.

“What the hell I’m doing is the job we were trained to do, even though one of us has clearly forgotten!” Riley resumed his trek forward, and when he reached within dusting distance, he sidestepped his way toward Buffy.

Spike countered each of Riley’s steps, his intent gaze never leaving the intruder. When Riley was within twenty feet of Buffy, Spike released a warning growl that halted Riley movements.

“Riley! Get the hint…back-off!” She watched a hint of hurt flash across Riley’s features.

“Buffy, I don’t understand why you’re not thinking clearly. Maybe you’re under a thrall again, but don’t worry, I love you and whatever it is, we’ll fix it. Starting with this vampire that should’ve been dusted a long time ago.”

Buffy’s thoughts raced, consumed by Riley’s clear threat against Spike. However, before she could reply, Spike growled loudly in protest.

“Mine!”

That’s when everything went to hell-in-a-hand-basket. Buffy could only watch in absolute horror the scene unfolding.

She heard Riley ordering her to “Move!” a split-second before he launched a deadly arrow, at the same time Spike was lunging forward. A moment later she saw Spike dropping to the ground clutching his head, while she heard a heart-wrenching howl of pain.

When she finally snapped out of her mental stupor, she rushed to Spike’s aid. He was lying on his side, partially doubled over. She carefully rolled him onto his back to better assess his injuries.

She first noticed a trickle of blood trailing from one nostril. Then her gaze scanned lower and what she saw made her gasp in shock—Riley’s arrow deeply embedded in Spike’s chest, only mere inches from the intended target.

“Oh, Spike…” Buffy’s worried utterance was cut short when Riley wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisting her off the ground. While Riley was pulling her away, her gaze met with a pair of intent, golden eyes filled with what she believed was regret.

“Put me down, Riley!” Buffy maneuvered out of Riley’s grasp and spun around to face the man who had taken her away from where she was truly needed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Buffy, I’m sorry for only giving you a moment’s notice to move, but I knew you weren’t in harm’s way.” Riley, oblivious to the anger directed toward him, stepped forward and gently placed his hand on Buffy’s shoulder.

Incredulousness flashed across her features before she shrugged off his touch, placed both her hands on his chest, and, luckily for Riley she didn’t use her Slayer-strength, shoved him away. Riley shifted, but regained his footing quickly. His look of tenderness shifted to one of utter confusion.

“Riley, are you serious! I’m not pissed ‘cause you shot that arrow toward me, I’m pissed ‘cause you shot Spike!” With poignant agitation, Buffy motioned to the injured vamp behind her.

“You’re mad because I shot Spike? You should be angry that he’s not dust!”

“Why would I want you to dust him? He’s harmless!” Buffy’s brow furrowed with confusion.

“Harmless? Even with the chip, he’s still a vampire, Buffy! I don’t understand what the attraction is, but it’s obvious you have this thing for vampires. First Angel, then Dracula, now Spike.” Buffy could see unmistakable hurt filling Riley’s eyes, yet her anger had her far beyond caring.

“I don’t have a thing for vampires, Riley! We’ve been over this. Angel was a long time ago…and Dracula, well he has had centuries to perfect his whammy technique—”

“And Spike? Where does he fit into all of this?” Riley appeared interested in her answer, but at the same time he looked uneasy as he prepared for it.

“It’s not that simple, Riley.” Buffy’s voice softened in spite of how her insides were twisting.

“The way I see it, it’s not complicated. He’s a vampire. You’re a vampire slayer. Stake to the heart…poof…pile of dust. Very simple.”

“Look Riley, I don’t need you to remind me what my job is or how to do it. Being the Slayer means so much more than you’ll ever know. I was chosen, not created in some lab under Sunnydale!”

“This has nothing to do with the Initiative and everything to do with them. Buffy, all I know is this—I can’t do this anymore, always coming second in your life to filthy demons. It’s time for you to choose. It’s him or me.”

Buffy inhaled deeply. Even though it took her several moments to respond, the answer came to her almost instantly.

“Good bye, Riley.”

Without another word, she turned and started walking away. Buffy noticed Spike was gone and rushed over to where she had left him. With tears pricking her eyes, she dropped to her knees and inspected the ground. She released a heavy sigh of relief when she realized there wasn’t any dust. Yet, her relief was short lived when she found the broken arrow’s shaft and fletching slick with his blood.

Buffy tentatively searched the cemetery for Spike, but unable to find him anywhere, she wracked her brain for another place he would seek refuge. Without wasting another moment, she ran all the way back to Giles’ apartment.

When she arrived, she repeated her earlier entrance by rushing through the door. She found Giles sitting at his desk surrounded by dozens of papers and books.

“Giles, I thought we agreed you guys were to keep William here.”

“Buffy, William has been here all night. After you left, he said he was extremely tired and inquired if he could lie down. The four of us have been taking shifts on watching over him ensuring he stayed put. He’s upstairs in my—“ Prior to Giles finishing his explanation, Buffy rushed past him and headed upstairs taking two steps at a time.

Buffy entered Giles’ bedroom, and found William asleep on the bed. His left arm was suspended over his head, held by the wrist bound by a metal cuff attached to its mate fixed to the headboard. Willow appeared to have been working on her laptop when Buffy entered the room.

“Hey, he’s been sleeping for the past few hours. Don’t worry this was totally an easy gig. It’s like when I used to babysit the Rothstein twins, and they just slept the whole time. Well, not exactly the same. They were five and not vampires, but you get my drift.”

Buffy walked hesitantly over to the bed, careful not to wake him. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, noting the clear lack of injury and blood. Her eyes then rose to his face. Despite all the turmoil of the last two days, his face was lax. He looked at peace.

He really is so beautiful.

After a longing, parting glance, Buffy looked over at Willow. “Willow, can you come downstairs? I figured out something really big tonight.”

They both left quietly, shutting the door softly behind them and heading downstairs.

“So what’s the what, Buffy?” Xander asked as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, obviously from being woken up after Buffy’s impromptu entrance. Giles stood from his desk chair, and Anya shifted on the couch, wiping apparent drool from her lap courtesy of a previously sleeping boyfriend.

“Giles, we’ve been going about this all wrong. Spike isn’t being all Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde-y. From what I saw tonight, and I can’t believe I’m saying this…I think there are two of them. There are two Spikes.”





Author’s Notes:

Yes, Spike was trying to eat a cat.

Jiminy Cricket is from Pinocchio. He believed “ Always let your conscience be your guide.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jiminy_Cricket

The reference to the Call of the Wild was written by Jack London. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Call_of_the_Wild. Also, in the episode “Beauty and the Beast,” Season 3, Willow was reading this book to Oz when he was in the wolfy state, and at the end of the episode, Buffy also read a passage from this book.

The original Nutty Professor movie was with Jerry Lewis in 1963. The remake was in 1996 with Eddie Murphy.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Nutty_Professor

Okay, raise your hand, who forgot about the chip?

My references to Dracula are from the episode title, “Buffy vs. Dracula.” This was Season 5 first episode.

Arrow parts: shaft (the body or wooden part) and fletching—“are found at the back of the arrow and provide a small amount of drag used to stabilize the flight of the arrow,” often feathers. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arrow

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are characters from, Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde written by Robert Lewis Stevenson. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strange_Case_of_Dr_Jekyll_and_Mr_Hyde




End Notes:
I would greatly appreciate if you let me know your thoughts: good, bad, or otherwise. Thanks!
Chapter 8 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Well, hello all! Here is the next chapter of my tale. I hope everyone is enjoying thus far. Big thanks to my lovely betas: Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Lovely banner by Capella.
“There are two of them? Please, tell me I’m still sleeping, and this is some really bad nightmare caused by consuming an unbalanced pizza-to-snack ratio.”

Xander cradled his head in his hands while he muttered non-stop. Ever since Buffy had informed the Scoobies what had transpired at Restfield Cemetery and that there were indeed two Spikes, Xander’s redundant question served as constant background noise for the last twenty minutes.

They tried several times to confirm and console him for his obvious “worst nightmare come true,” yet nothing seemed to placate him. They decided there was no point in continuing and now were trying their best to ignore him.

Anya was on the couch flipping through a dusty tome, while Willow and Giles were back at the bookshelf perusing book titles searching for the most helpful. Buffy was upstairs after telling the group she wanted to check on William. She’d been gone for over ten minutes.

“Oh for goddess sakes, Xander, will you stop complaining if I prove to you this is not a dream?”

Anya set aside her book, turned slightly toward Xander, and without warning, roughly grabbed a fold of skin of his upper arm and twisted. His unmanly yelp seemed to get the reaction she wanted, so she let go, picked up her book, and resumed reading.

“Ahn! What the hell was that for?” Xander croaked while rubbing the injured area.

“I thought pinching was an equally effective method to bring you out of your believed dream-like state. I’ve seen in the movies that slapping the face is commonly used, but I felt there would’ve been some confusion, since I slap you during our role-playing scenario of naughty nurse and rambling mental-patient.”

Xander blanched from his girlfriend’s blunt statement. With wide eyes he looked over at Willow and Giles.

“Um…just forget what Anya—“

“Forgotten,” Giles called over his shoulder, while he and Willow busily ignored Anya’s outburst. A moment later, Buffy made her way down the stairs.

“William is resting comfortably. Well, he is since I removed these.” Buffy held the pair of handcuffs as far away from her as possible, clasping them between her thumb and forefinger. Then she quickly dropped them on the desk with a loud clank.

“And on that note, Giles, I so don’t want to know why you own a pair of handcuffs.” Buffy suppressed a shudder at the thought of her Watcher possessing such a risqué item.

“Xander, why can Buffy discuss sex but I can’t?” Anya fixed her still embarrassed boyfriend with a demanding look that clearly required immediate attention.

Despite Xander looking imploringly toward his friends for help, everyone remained silent while they intently watched the interaction between the couple. Finally, Buffy took pity on Xander and redirected the focus of the group.

“All right, now that we’ve had our fun torturing Xander, tell me whatcha guys found.”

“Unfortunately, the only additional information I gathered was that Toth is the sole survivor of the Tothric clan.” Giles sighed. It appeared the inability to find more information was weighing heavily on him.

“So you’re telling me that with your wall of books and how wordy you Watchers can be, that’s all you’ve got?” Buffy rounded the couch and headed toward the group.

“Buffy, after reviewing the Watcher Diaries and cross-referencing them with my other resources, it appears the size of the Tothric clan rapidly diminished from a combination of lengthy inter-demon wars and a sheer brutality toward their own. Approximately fifty years ago the Council stopped tracking them in the belief they were no longer a threat.”

“Well, it’s not the first time the Council was wrong,” Xander scoffed as he absently rubbed his upper arm.

“Giles, since our guy’s a singleton, it proves his bunch fought dirty, and he’s King Pig-pen. Do the books say any more on how they killed each other off? Like were they all running around with their blasty sticks using the same hocus pocus he used on Spike?” Buffy unconsciously paced while she questioned her Watcher.

“Maybe there aren’t two Spikes. Toth could be one of the numerous demons that use magic to take on their victim’s form. A sort of glamour or what have you.” Anya’s gaze remained on the book in her lap as she commented casually. All eyes turned toward her, yet everyone remained silent until Buffy asked for elaboration.

“Do you mean the Spike I came across in Restfield is really Toth?” Buffy’s stomach roiled at the thought of letting Mr. Leather Face touch her and more so from what she had almost done, well, if Riley hadn’t interrupted.

“That may be, but it also could be the Spike sleeping upstairs. Whom I might add, is no longer handcuffed.” Anya looked up from the book and over toward Xander.

“See Xander, I can talk about handcuffs and beds in the same conversation and not be talking about sex.”

Buffy stopped pacing, her eyes fixed on Anya. “No, William’s human. He’s not a demon. He can go out in the sunlight, and he eats regular food, and…and he sweats—a lot.”

“Buffy, when I was a Vengeance Demon, even though I preferred evenings, I went out during the day. Some of the best ways I exacted vengeance involved using the sun. There was this one time in 1323 when—“

“Ahn, focus please,” Xander urged his girlfriend when he noticed Buffy crossing her arms in obvious irritation from Anya’s attempt to take them down demon- memory lane.

“Fine, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Anya looked pointedly at Xander before returning her gaze to Buffy then continued, “vampires are not the best examples of demons. They’re hybrids, not full demons. Also, just like humans, each demon species has its limitations and preferences.”

“Okay gottcha, some demons are to-may-toes, some are to-mah-toes, but that doesn’t really tell me anything. After hours of researching, it appears all we know is that once I kill Toth, I don’t have to worry about any of his equally non-moisturizing buddies trying to avenge his death. All right, here’s the plan. Forget researching Toth, and let’s focus on his whammy stick and the magic he used. Once we find that out, I’ll know which one I’m going after, Spike or…William?”

Buffy turned quickly when she felt a familiar presence behind her. Standing on the stairs and leaning heavily against the wall for support was a bedraggled William. Gone were his tie, jacket, and vest, and his remaining clothes were heavily rumpled from sleep. He clearly looked ill, his sallow complexion accentuated the staining of dark purple under his eyes, and his full lips were blanched and cracked.

“Please, pardon my interruption. I awoke with a terrible pounding in my head and an overwhelming thirst. If…if I might have some water.”

Buffy rushed to William’s aid when he started swaying unsteadily on his feet. She wrapped her arm around his middle, slowly guiding him downstairs and over to the couch, which Anya and Xander had vacated.

Carefully, she helped him get situated before heading into the kitchen to get him the water he requested. While Buffy searched the cabinets for the biggest glass she could find, Xander, who had followed her into the kitchen, distracted her momentarily.

“Buffy, don’t you think it seems a little fishy that William pops up right after you declared you’re going after one of the Spikes?”

“Normally I’d agree with you, Xan, but look at him. Yeah, I’ve acted with the best of them pretending to be sick to get out of doing something. But there’s no way you can fake that. He looks worse than you did last Thanksgiving.” Buffy pulled a pitcher of spring water from the refrigerator and started pouring.

“So you think he has something equivalent to mystical syphilis?” Xander watched Buffy placing the pitcher back on the shelf and closing the refrigerator door.

“I have no clue what it is. All I know there’s something really wrong.” With that she turned and headed back into the living room.

Buffy carefully handed the water to a glassy-eyed William. With shaky hands, he took and cradled the glass, bringing it up slowly to his mouth, while spilling some along the way. In one go, he gulped the water down. Once he finished, he briefly sputtered and coughed until he finally settled.

With a heavy sigh and in apparent exhaustion, William leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. Buffy instinctually took the glass from him and held it while she headed over toward the group.

“I don’t care how long it takes, we need to find out what the hell is going on with William, and we need to figure it out now.”

With that being said, Buffy headed back to the kitchen. Moments later she returned with another full glass of water and a dampened wash cloth. She carefully sat on the edge of the couch next to William, and placed the glass at her feet. With a gentle hand, she began sweeping the washcloth across his brow.

The look of utter worry marring Buffy’s features and her tenderness toward the ailing William were all the Scoobies needed to see before they launched back into full research mode.







Author’s Notes:

Tothric clan: Toth was the last of them. I found that here: http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Tothric_Clan

Pig-pen is a Snoopy character who is really dirty (physically). No matter where he walks there’s always a cloud of dust that follows him. Even in the snow! http://peanuts.wikia.com/wiki/%22Pig-Pen%22

Tomaytoes and tomahtoes refer to a line from the song, “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off.” It’s a Gershwin tune used during a 1937 movie Shall We Dance. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Let%27s_Call_the_Whole_Thing_Off
End Notes:
Yes, I know this chapter was rather short, especially with my usual wordyness. I promise you, there is a method to my madness. Please let me know what you think! Thanks ever so!
Chapter 9 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Hello all! Here's the next installment of my tale. I hope this is more well received than the last chapter. *fingers crossed* Big thanks to my lovely betas: Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Awesome banner by Edgehead.
Once William finished nursing his second glass of water, Buffy and Giles helped him to the bedroom, so he could rest more comfortably. Buffy chose to stay while Giles returned downstairs.

Over the next hour, the room remained quiet over-all, with the exception of several occasions when a semi-conscious, restless William murmured incoherently before calming and returning to sleep.

With each instance, Buffy’s concern intensified, until she could no longer stand the waiting. Not wanting to disturb the finally settled William, she slowly stood from her spot of vigil on the edge of the bed and headed downstairs. All the Scoobies were still in full research mode, and no one noticed her presence until she interrupted.

“Please tell me you guys have found something—anything.” Buffy’s uneasiness caused her voice to tremble slightly.

“I found several shape-shifting spells that require the caster to obtain a personal item from the victim. But since you were Toth’s target, and Spike was affected, those were a big no-go,” Willow sigh dejectedly.

“Sorry Buff, we’ve got nada here too. How’s William holding up?” Xander gave Buffy a half-hearted smile in hopes she would take some solace in their efforts, despite their lack of success.

“He’s resting comfortably for now. Thanks for working overtime on this, guys. Okay, if there’s nothing else to report, I’m going to head back. Just let me know if you—” Buffy was cutoff mid sentence by Giles’ unexpected utterance.

“Oh dear Lord!”

“You know, I really hate it when he says that,” Buffy groused as she mentally prepared herself for Giles’ findings.

“Ferula-gemina.”

“Bless you,” Xander joked, attempting to lighten the ominous feeling that quickly descended upon the room.

“Very droll, Xander. As I was saying, Toth’s rod device, it's called a Ferula-gemina. It splits one person in half, distilling personality traits into two separate bodies. As near as I can tell, Toth was attempting to split the Slayer into two different entities.”

“Two Buffys?” Xander shifted on the couch, moved the sizeable book from his lap, and placed it on the coffee table.

“Yes, one of them with all the qualities inherent of Buffy Summers. The other would have everything that belongs to the Slayer alone: the strength and speed, the heritage. When it hit Spike, I think it separated him into his strongest qualities, those belonging to the demon, and his weakest, those belonging to the human.”

“But which is the real one?” Buffy’s expression was one of utter bewilderment.

“They're both real. They're both Spike. There's nothing in either of them that he didn't already possess.” Giles nodded his head in affirmation.

“I still don't get the original plan. Why do it? The Slayer half would be like Slayer-concentrate. Pretty unkillable.” Willow ’s brow scrunched in confusion as she moved closer to Giles.

“But the two halves can't exist without the other. Kill the weaker Buffy half, and the Slayer half dies.” Giles gaze moved steadily over the group, appearing to be gauging everyone’s reaction.

“So, same thing for the Spikes, right? Both of them need to stay alive, or they both die.”

When Buffy spoke this dismal possibility out loud, it made it all the more real. Overwhelmed by this knowledge, Buffy began pacing when the uneasiness returned with full force. However, she remained in motion to prevent the others from seeing her fighting newly formed tears.

“I believe so, Buffy. It appears his demon and human have an undeniable obligate symbiotic relationship,” Giles clarified.

Buffy stopped in mid-stride and turned toward her Watcher. “What in the huh? What’s an oblique cymbal relationship?”

Obligate symbiotic relationship is a phenomenon in nature in which two organisms cannot survive without the other. It is a precarious balance, to say the least. If one falters or dies, the other will surely follow closely behind.” Giles removed his glasses and gently cleaned the lenses, then returned them to their rightful place.

“Oh! It’s like the relationship between Marine worms and Archaea bacteria found near the hydrothermal vents on the Mid-Oceanic Ridges,” Willow added excitedly, as the others eyed her with perplexed amazement.

The animated redhead noticeably deflated after her gaze darted around the suddenly silent group.

“What? Unlike some of us, I paid attention in Dr. Gregory’s class. Might I add, I always did the extra credit assignments, too.”

“Who’s Dr. Gregory?” Xander’s brow creased in obvious confusion. He appeared to be sorting through his sketchy memories of all things high school that were learning related.

“You don’t remember our biology teacher from sophomore year? Well, he was our teacher until Miss French ate his head. Then She-Mantis became our substitute and started collecting virgins to fertilize her clutch of demon-spawn-eggs? Ringing any bells, Xander?”

Willow smirked while she watched Xander’s eyes widen when he recalled whom she was talking about. Quickly, he attempted to change the subject before his astute girlfriend chimed in.

“So Giles, is this two-Spike problem an easy fix?”

“I’m not quite sure, Xander. To know for certain, it will require more research.” Giles laid the helpful tome on his desk, picked up another hefty volume, and started leafing through the weathered pages.

“Okay, we know the reason for two Spikes, which thankfully rules out one of them actually being Toth. So our next step is hitting the books—again. This time, we need to figure out what’s going on with William, especially when the demon appeared fine, even after Riley shot him.” Buffy looked imploringly toward her friends and Watcher, hoping they would find the reason and soon.

As if Buffy’s words were their starting gun, each Scooby was set into motion. Giles returned to the bookshelf, and Xander and Anya started compiling the collection of books surrounding them in order to make room for more.

However, it was Willow’s thousand-yard-stare that caught Buffy’s attention. Before she could comment on it, Buffy watched a sudden awareness emerging across her friend’s features.

“We don’t need books for this guys. All we need is my laptop.” Willow hurried over to her bag propped against the couch. She carefully removed her laptop and set it down on the surface, while she sat down at the desk.

The recognizable whirling of the computer coming to life and Willow’s agile fingers hurrying across the keyboard drew everyone’s attention, as they formed an attentive, half circle around the redhead.

“Thanks again to Dr. Gregory’s class, I know where to look to figure out what’s happening to William. For the first time in Hellmouth history, this is not magic related. What I think William has is simply because he’s human.”

With a few more keystrokes, a self-help medical website popped up on the screen. Willow moved the mouse and with one click, a small androgynous figure appeared along side a list of symptoms.

“The age I picked for William was how old I assumed he would have been when he was turned. I didn’t think an over-century-old, no-longer-vampire really fit the sixty-five-plus age bracket.”

She scrolled down the list, clicking on William’s ailments. “Okay, he’s showing signs of dizziness, dry skin, fatigue, increased thirst—”

Willow continued adding to the list. Each symptom weeded out possible diagnoses, until one unmistakable explanation appeared at the top: dehydration.

“This is it. This is what’s going on with William.” Willow pointed to the diagnosis highlighted on the screen and looked back at the others to judge their reactions.

Buffy leaned forward as if this would help the information make more sense. “Dehydration? I don’t get it. I’ve seen William drink, we all have.”

“Of course!” Giles exclaimed, his hands rising in the air in sync with his words.

“Let me add to the record. I’m not too fond of that remark either,” Buffy grumbled while she leaned back, her gaze moving to her Watcher.

“The cause of William’s symptoms is a direct link between the two sides. Buffy, the demon side you came across, it still possessed an active chip, correct?” The lines of thought formed on Giles’ brow, when the pieces of the puzzle came together in his mind.

“Yeah, all in its nose bleeding glory, but what does—” Buffy’s eyes widened when she finally caught on. “The chip. The chip’s preventing Spike’s demon from feeding off humans. Since I highly doubt he’s been bagging it, and after being injured—”

“The deterioration of William’s health has been accelerated from the combination of blood loss and minimal feeding by the demon. I’d venture the demon is showing signs as well, but it would not be as severe as William’s.”

Giles removed his glasses again. Buffy watched him sweeping the every-ready cloth across the lenses in methodical circles. Each stroke appeared to increase in pressure and speed.

“So let me get this straight, William is starving to death ‘cause the demon hasn’t been feeding?” Buffy broke her gaze from Giles’ hand and rose to his eyes. She could see his growing concern for William mirroring back.

“Buffy, William isn’t starving, he’s dehydrated. They’re different. But unfortunately the outcome, if not treated, is the same. It’s just dehydration…well…it happens a lot faster than starvation.” As Willow continued to speak, her voice softened, and by the end, it became difficult to hear her.

“So tell me straight, how long does he have?” Buffy shifted into Slayer mode, since she felt the woman inside being crippled with worry.

“I think I can answer that from when I was Army-guy. I remember a simple survival rule of thumb: three hours without shelter, three days without water, three weeks without food.” Buffy sensed Xander’s apprehension while he gave her this difficult news.

“Three days? William’s already burned through two, and at the rate he seems to be going downhill, I don’t think—”

Buffy couldn’t bear finishing her thought. She felt her chest tightening and fresh tears forming. After a quick intake of breath, attempting to steady herself, she reached deep within and pulled forward the inner strength she relied on when things felt they were beyond all hope.

“Okay, here’s the plan. Giles and Anya, you stay here and take care of William. Take turns, while one of you keeps an eye on him, the other is looking for ways to maybe slowing this thing down. Xander and Willow, you’re coming with me. We only have a few hours left before sun-up.” Buffy walked over to Giles’ weapon chest, lifted the lid, and started searching.

“Giles, what’s with the minimal weaponage?” Buffy’s voice sounded slightly muffled from her position leaning over the chest.

“Well, with my recent purchase of the Magic Box, I felt there could be our newest, if you will, headquarters. Also, with the rather unappealing demises of previous shop proprietors, and myself already having been accosted, I decided to move a great deal of my collection there.” Giles explanation prompted Buffy to close the lid, while her mind started recalculating her strategy.

“What’s the plan, Buff?” Despite Xander’s question, he and Willow had dutifully collected their jackets and were readying themselves to go.

“Okay, first we hit the Magic Box. There’s a certain oldie-but-goodie we need that can incapacitate the demon without harming William or Spike.”

She watched Willow nod and Xander knowingly smirk in response. Buffy knew full-well they understood what she had in mind and were already onboard with the unspoken means of capturing the demon.

“And once we have what we need—we’re bringing back a demon,” Buffy announced confidently, while sliding her arms into her jacket before heading toward the door with Xander and Willow in tow.







Author’s Notes:

Some of the dialog was taken directly from ”Replacements,” written by Jane Espenson. I did have to tweak some of it to make it fit into my story. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Replacement

Obligate symbiotic relationship: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbiosis

Marine worms, Archaea bacteria, and hydrothermal vents: http://marinelife.about.com/od/habitatprofiles/p/vents.htm

Season One, episode 5, ”Teacher’s Pet”: Dr. Gregory was the biology teacher before She-Mantis killed her. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teacher's_Pet_(Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer)

Surviving without water: http://ask.metafilter.com/41162/How-long-can-humans-last-without-water


End Notes:
I would greatly appreciate to hear your opinion. Thanks!
Chapter 10 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Well, I hope you gentle readers are enjoying my tale. Big thanks to my lovely betas, who I wouldn't have this story without: Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Ladies, you mean the world to me. Oh, next chapter will be up next Monday!
“So Buffster, we’ve been parading around Restfield for over an hour, and William’s demon-Doublemint-twin has been a no show. Are you sure it’s still here?”

Xander weaved around another grave marker while voicing his complaint. Ever since the trio left the Magic Box, Buffy had become eerily quiet. So much so, Xander nearly jumped out of his own skin when she finally broke the silence.

“He’s here. I can feel him.” Buffy continued forward, her rapt attention remaining on their surroundings.

“Then why’s he playing ‘I see you, but you can’t see me’?” Willow’s gaze darted around, hoping to catch a glimpse of what her friend was sensing.

“Can you really blame him? If I was used for target practice, I wouldn’t be too eager to roll out the welcome mat either. But you’re right, Willow. Since we’ve only got four hours before sun up, this little game of demon-hide-n-seek has to end.” Buffy stopped mid-stride in a small clearing near a crypt. Xander and Willow followed suit.

“Okay, obviously he won’t show with you two near me. The best we can do is for you guys to take cover near this crypt, and when I give the word—well, you know what to do.” Buffy motioned to the stone structure as she started walking toward another smaller clearing among a row of headstones.

“Buffy, how are you planning on getting him to come out? I don’t think olly-olly-oxen-free is gonna work here.” Xander raised a brow in uncertainty at what his friend had in mind.

Buffy stopped in the clearing and faced her friends. Willow had moved near the side of the mausoleum while Xander remained rooted on spot.

“You’re right, Xan. He’s going to need a special invite.”

Buffy unsheathed a small dagger from her boot and brought it to her open palm. Without flinching, she dragged the blade across her flesh, creating a deep gash that instantly welled with blood.

Without another word, Buffy turned her back to her friends and raised her wounded hand into the air. Taking this action as her answer, Xander and Willow shifted into position.

Willow watched as their friend moved in a slow circle, resembling a rotating Statue of Liberty. In a way, she kinda was, but instead of, “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses to breathe free…” it was more, ‘give me a tired, hungry vamp that doesn’t really need to breathe, but still does.’ Or more specifically, give me Spike’s demon.

“Even though this was invite only, don’tcha think other vamps will try and crash this party.” Xander’s words shook Willow out of her thoughts.

“Xander, Buffy knows what she’s doing. Plus, don’t you remember what she told us when she first met the demon? He dusted a fledgling with his bare hands. I have no doubt he’ll take care of any other vamps.”

Willow shuddered from this imagery. She knew Spike was dangerous. As if she could ever forget the whole bottle in the face or trying to take a bite of her incidents—but over the last year, well, besides the whole Adam-thing, she’d come to see Spike more as the resident sorta-naughty more than the big bad. However, the thought of him being reduced to his pure demon—all she knew was she was glad to be on the other side of the means to incapacitate said demon.

“Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m thinking a vamp already jonesing for slayers—using a blood-o-gram is not of the good,” Xander muttered while he shifted restlessly.

“I have to agree with you there. But Buffy knows what she’s getting into and unfortunately with time not being on our side—” Willow’s whispering stopped when in the distance she spotted a vamp with unforgettable bleached hair emerging from the shadows.

Xander followed his friend’s line of vision, and they both watched in silence the scene before them unfolded.

Buffy knew it wouldn’t take long for Spike’s demon to pick up the scent of her blood. Vampires were notorious for the whole smelling thing. Then add hunger to the mix; let’s just say the dinner bell around her neck was the size of the Liberty Bell.

She watched him approaching cautiously. Gone was his swagger and the gaze he’d affixed on her earlier, replaced by golden eyes shifting constantly, and stilted, guarded movements. His body was also slightly hunched and appeared to be protecting his biggest Achilles’ heel—his heart.

The demon stopped and cocked his head to the side, seeming to sense Willow and Xander’s presence. In response, he released a low warning growl. Thankfully, they remained still and out of sight, and after a few more tense moments, he continued toward Buffy.

After a slow, vigilant trek, the demon chose to stop within ten feet of her. His gaze finally stopped shifting and was now set on her.

All of his hesitant actions and reactions reminded Buffy of a frightened animal. Treating him as such, she lowered herself into a less intimidating, partially kneeling position and slowly extended her bleeding hand toward him while cupping her palm so the blood pooled.

From this new position, the moonlight emphasized how truly affected he was by the lack of feeding. His clothes, which were once form fitting on his lithe body, now visibly hung on his thinning frame.

She noticed his trademark coat showed the signs of his earlier injury. Buffy shuddered at the thought of him tearing the arrow free from his body, and the heavily flowing blood saturating the leather.

Her eyes then rose to study his features. His demonic ridges accentuated his sunken and dark-ringed eyes. Just as his counterpart’s, his skin appeared translucent and delicate with thin blue veins spider webbing beneath the surface. His lips, the gatekeeper for his once exploring tongue, was split and waxen.

While tentatively sniffing the air, he warily closed the final distance between them. With his gaze fixed with hers, she felt the first soft draws of breath stirring across her fingers tips.

Buffy tried to calm her breathing and keep completely still. She knew any sudden movements on her part would cause him to bolt. Despite his declining health, if he felt threatened, he would fight fang and nail to get free, even if it meant injuring himself further. It was the whole animal chewing off his own leg caught in a trap type of thing.

One minute she was ensnared by his intense stare and the next, her eyes were fluttering closed on there own volition when she felt his tongue slowly sweeping across her palm.

She felt the instant rush of pleasure flooding her body. Her mind focused only on his ministrations. Her steady breathing became shallow pants, and the thin wisp of fabric guarding her sensitive womanhood from harsh denim started to dampen from desire.

His lapping slowed only momentarily when he lowered himself to his knees. He resembled a reverent man receiving Holy Communion. She believed to him, her blood was exactly that.

While her eyes remained closed due to the all-consuming bliss, her free hand rose and she started gently raking her fingers through his unruly curls. The low purr that had started with his feeding now increased tenfold, causing another wave of pleasure to crash through her. It took all her inner strength to not give in to her own hunger.

“Don’t worry, everything will be okay now. I just hope you won’t be too mad at me after you wake from your nice, long nap.” Buffy’s fingers continued tenderly trailing through his hair while she spoke calmly. After several more sweeps, Buffy knew it was time to act and opened her eyes.

“I’m so sorry—Do it now!”

Once her stern order hit the air, she was met with a pair of golden eyes filled with a combination of fear and hurt before he growled, shifted, and scurried away. Buffy nervously looked toward the crypt and watched Xander training the tranquilizer gun on the fleeing vamp.

Xander’s first shot missed. The dart struck the ground two feet from its intended target. Without missing a stride, the demon continued running.

Instinctually, Buffy then gave chase. The fear of her loosing the demon, and the inevitability of losing Spike forever fueled her strides. When she was within reach, she leapt and landed on his back, bringing him to the ground.

“A little help here!” Buffy called for help, as the demon beneath her bucked and snarled.

The distinctive sounds of two pairs of running feet, the gun cocking, and darts being launched, filled her with some relief. However, she didn’t give the demon a margin of freedom until she felt his body noticeably relaxing under hers. When she finally heard his telltale snoring, Buffy knew it was safe to move off the now sleeping vamp.

“Is he—snoring?” Ten feet away, Willow commented from her spot next to Xander before taking two hesitant steps forward.

Buffy stood and brushed off bits of dirt from her knees. “Yeah, it’s surprising someone that doesn’t require breathing would be sawing logs like that.”

“So, don’tcha think a ‘Yay team!’ Is in order?” Xander shifted the tranquilizer gun and rested it on his shoulder while approaching Buffy.

“I’d say a total, ‘Yay!’ Well, only if I’d thought out this plan a little better.” Buffy regarded the vamp at her feet before returning her gaze to her friends.

“How’s that? I see one down for the count demon—check. Now we just have to get him to—” Xander’s slapped his freed palm against his forehead in a ah-ha moment.

“Yup, we forgot about bringing said down for the count demon back to Giles,” Buffy huffed with frustration.

“Oh, no prob! Well, minor prob, but an easy fix! There’s a gas station payphone about a mile from here. We’ll call Giles and have him pick up you and Mr. Sleepyhead at the entrance of Restfield. See easy-peasy!” Willow beamed a smile at her dismayed friend.

“So says the girl that doesn’t have to lug an unconscious vamp through the cemetery. Okay, that sounds like a plan. But before you guys go, could you please help me get him upright?” Buffy grumbled as she crouched and gently rolled Spike’s demon onto his back.







“That’s it! It’s a strictly liquid diet when you get back to normal. No more blooming onions or spicy buffalo wings for you, pal,” Buffy grumbled, straining slightly under the demon’s weight as she continued using a fireman’s carry to bring him to the predetermined meeting point.

His only response was a snort, followed by another round of snores. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief when she saw a pair of headlights streaming through the opened gate. Giles, Willow, and Xander quickly exited the car and together helped to bring Spike’s demon down off Buffy’s shoulders and carefully placed him in the backseat of Giles’ car.

Once the demon was situated, Giles approached Buffy who was still stretching out her taxed limbs. “Everything went fairly well I see.”

“Yeah, it was a little dicey there for a few with bucking bronco vamp, but after a few shots of sleepy-time, voila, you have the music or more fittingly, the drugs that soothed the savage beast.”

Buffy gave her arms a final stretch over her head before walking toward the car. Giles followed until each stood on either side.

“How’s William?” All of the earlier humor in her voice was gone, replaced by trepidation.

“He has been sleeping soundly the entire time.” Giles opened the driver’s door and slid inside, prompting Buffy to do the same. Both closed their doors with care.

“That’s of the good, isn’t it?” Buffy turned to look at the sleeping vamp wedged between a wary Xander and Willow.

Giles turned the key, bringing the car to life. “I’m afraid it isn’t, Buffy.”









Author’s Notes:

Doublemint is an American type of gum. They used identical twins as a commercial gimmick. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doublemint

“Olly olly oxen free“ is used during hide-n-seek or kick the can. The saying overall means, you can come out without being penalized. I.e.: not being it. There are several versions of this saying.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olly_olly_oxen_free

This is a small excerpt from an Inscription inside the Statue of Liberty
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Emma_Lazarus_plaque.jpg

The Liberty Bell is the “iconic symbol of American Independence”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liberty_Bell






End Notes:
Please take a minute to let me know what you think. A mere moment on your part goes a long way. Thank you.
Chapter 11 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Hello all! Today's Monday so here it is! I really appreciate everyone who are continuing to follow this story. A big thanks to my irreplaceable and amazing betas Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Love ya ladies! I will be posting next Monday!!!!
“What do you mean, Giles?” Buffy’s worry-filled eyes moved from Spike’s demon to her Watcher.

“Buffy, in the latter stages of dehydration, those afflicted become increasingly lethargic as well as confused. If left untreated, one could slip into a coma, which ultimately leads to…” Giles left the tragic ending unsaid, but knew his Slayer clearly understood.

“That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it. Giles, we gotta get there now. Can’t this middle-age-crisis mobile go any faster?” Buffy returned her attention to the backseat, her distress ever present.

“Wills, how’s he doing?”

“Still with the z’s and some drooling, so I guess A-Okay.” Willow smiled softly hoping her words alleviated some of her friend’s concerns.

“Okay, good. William has to be all right if the demon is one with the sleeping and drooling side of life. Or unlife in his case.” Buffy shifted and faced forward, returning her eyes to the road. Her worried expression changed into one of confusion when the direction they were heading seemed wrong.

“This is not the way to your place, Giles. Where are we going?”

“While you were gone, I located a spell to reintegrate Spike’s two halves. However, the spell requires a pentagram large enough for both William and the demon to take position in the center. My flat doesn’t have enough space, so we need to perform the ritual at the Magic Box.”

“Magic Box? Giles, we don’t have time for you to do the whole soccer mom thing! What if—what if after all this driving around we’re too late? What if—”

Giles’ moved one hand from the wheel and tenderly placed it on Buffy’s shoulder as he looked over to her.

“Buffy, we will make it in time.”

She nodded, and after their brief exchange, Giles turned his attention back to the road.

The rest of the trip was made in relative silence with the exception of several considerably loud bouts of snoring. When they finally arrived, Giles opened the front door and turned on the lights while the others moved Spike’s demon inside.

Xander and Buffy carefully carried the still sleeping vamp toward the back of the store. Willow proceeded to situate a blanket, courtesy of Giles, on the floor before they laid him down.

Once this was done, Xander headed over to Giles and Willow, who were standing at the sales counter discussing preparations for the spell. Buffy remained with Spike’s demon and was now sitting of the floor next to him.

“…The pentagram must be large enough for them both. In addition, the spell also requires white candles placed at each of the five points, which will be lit during the spell. You will find everything you’ll need downstairs in storage.” Giles opened the hefty tome and showed Willow the passage containing the information.

“Okay, draw a big star on the floor and decorate it with candles, gotcha.” Willow nodded and headed off to collect the supplies.

Giles picked up the phone and started dialing, as Willow headed downstairs with Xander trailing behind.

“Wills, what’s up with that?” Xander stood beside her while she perused the shelves.

“What that are you talking about, Xander?” Willow pulled a box marked ‘candles’ from the shelf, placed it on the floor and started searching through the array of wax pillars.

“The that I’m referring to is the Hellmouth’s rendition of Beauty and the Beast going on upstairs!” Xander gestured wildly as he started pacing.

“You mean what’s going on between Buffy and Spike?” Willow stopped her search and looked up at her clearly agitated friend.

“Aaa…yeah! She can’t, Will. She can’t be falling for another vampire. It’s like Angel all over again. Well, without the nonstop broodiness.”

“Xander, you need to relax. Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but tonight I realized something. Spike is nothing like Angel. Sure they both have a major sun allergy, need a liquid diet, and seriously love the hair gel, but that’s where the similarities end. When Angelus came on the scene, it was all about tormenting Buffy and killing innocent people. Spike’s demon hasn’t been like that at all. You saw it tonight, Xander. The demon had a non-stake wielding Slayer on tap and never tried to bite her. To be honest, I felt all peeping Tom-ish watching them together.”

“No—no, there’s no togetherness. Maybe she’s just confused, like some sort of Florence Henderson thing going on. You know, when a nurse starts having feelings for their patients. Plus, there’s the chip.” Xander continued pacing, stopping only when Willow moved into his path.

“Well, the chip doesn’t stop him trying to get bitey, it just zaps him if he does. And it’s Florence Nightingale, and no, I don’t think it’s that either. Even before William became sick, Buffy’s been acting kinda weird around him. I’ve been noticing some things ever since our run-in with Toth.” To escape the scrutiny she knew was surely coming, Willow kneeled down and returned her attention to the box’s contents.

“Things, what things? How come I’m the last to know about these so-called things? And how come after five years I’m still the Jack in this Three’s Company scenario? Yeah, I get to hang out with two hot girls, but when things happen, I’m left out of the loop. And then during the catchy credit-rolling music, there I am tripping over the couch and being the punchline in some joke.” Following his rant, Xander sighed dejectedly.

Willow pulled out two white candles and placed them on the floor, before brushing her hands off on her jeans and standing.

“Xander, we don’t purposefully leave you out, and you’re not some joke. It’s just these things…well, they’re girl things, and even though your input is important to us, you just don’t have the proper—um—parts to be included.” Willow smiled warmly; hoping her friend understood, and his feelings weren’t hurt.

“I do, Wills, it’s just sometimes it would be nice to join in on the giggling girlfests you and Buffy have. Now, I’d never trade in my manly parts, even though sometimes they get me in trouble, but I would still like to be included. So there, I said it. Anyway, I should head back upstairs. Giles is going to need some help getting Watcher Jr. here.” Xander returned Willow’s smile and started ascending the stairs.

When Xander entered the main part of the store, Buffy was standing next to Giles as he was ending his phone call.

“So Giles, ready for Operation Revamp?”

“Ah yes, Xander. Anya is waking William now, and hopefully, when we arrive he will be ready to make the trip. Buffy, we will back shortly.” Giles turned and headed to the exit with Xander following behind.

Buffy watched the two men leaving, and when she could no longer hear the sound of Giles’ car outside, she turned and eyed the room with apprehension.

Now, with Giles and Xander gone, Willow still in the basement, and the demon snoring away in the corner, nobody was there to help curtail the anxious anticipation welling up inside.

Buffy really hated this, the waiting. It wasn’t in the Slayer’s make-up to let others take the reins, but she knew it was what she needed to do. However, even though she accepted the waiting, it didn’t mean she had to do so sitting still.

When Willow finally came upstairs with several white grease pencils and candles in hand, a slight sense of relief washed over Buffy as she abruptly ended her frantic pacing.

“It’s about time! You were down there like two hours!” Buffy headed over to her friend and relieved her of a few supplies.

“Buffy, it was less than twenty minutes and that was even after the heart-to-heart conversation with Xander. Just to recap, he wants to join in on our ‘all chick-flicks, only chocolate foods allowed, and no discussing our love life’ fests, all the while remaining completely male.” Buffy’s brow rose in question, and Willow continued, “Don’t ask. Anyway, we have everything we need for the spell. Well, except for William, and don’t worry, they’ll be back soon.”

Buffy smiled half-heartedly at Willow’s attempt to make her feel better. Then with minimal discussion, they cleared an area large enough for the spell, and after outlining the initial pentagram, each chose a section to work on, darkening and widening the lines.

“So—you and Spike, huh?” Despite Willow’s attempt at sounding nonchalant, her words hit Buffy full force. Her eyes widened and shifted quickly from the floor to Willow, whose gaze was trained on her.

“Me—and—Spike?”

“Well, not exactly you and Spike, more like you and Spike-halves. Which when we finally put them back together will be a whole Spike. So yeah, you and Spike.” This time Willow refrained from beating around the bush and went straight to the point.

“Wills, there’s no me and Spike, me and William, or me and Spike’s demon. There isn’t me and anyone, not anymore.” Buffy stood from the floor. She noticed a few white smudges on her hands and started wiping them off on her jeans.

“’The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”

“Hey, don’t get all Shakespeare-y on me! And I’ll have you know this lady protests too much ‘cause the other lady thinks way too much for her own good.” Buffy struck her classic oppositional pose: hip cocked, arms crossing her chest, and one eyebrow raised.

“Well, this other lady thinks that you, this lady has been acting wiggy around William, and this other lady noticed definite major sparkage between you, this lady and the demon.” Willow stood up from the floor and struck a mirrored pose.

“Wait, huh?” Buffy dropped her arms and scrunched her nose in confusion.

“Uh-uh, no way missy, you’re not getting out of this discussion that easily. I’ll make it simple: Are you having feelings for Spike?”

Buffy’s gaze moved from Willow to one half of the man in question. The demon shifted and snorted before resuming another round of snores. A soft smile touched her lips.

“I don’t know, Willow.” Buffy looked back at her friend. “I mean, hello, this is Spike we’re talking about. He’s the same irritating, bleached vampire that has been a constant thorn in my side for years. Yet, when he was William and even the demon, all the annoyingness of Spike—from the way he talks and acts, to you know just being Spike—was gone. Then you have Giles saying these two halves have always been inside Spike, it really got me thinking.

“William is super sweet and respectful, and he’s kinda cute. Well, in a shy, dorky way. Then you have his demon. Yeah, he’s all with the bloodlust, but even though he was starving, he was nothing but gentle and protective of me. And I won’t mention totally hot in a grrr-kinda way. So since Spike is really William and the demon just in one package, I stand by my earlier answer—I don’t know.” Buffy sighed and lowered to the floor to continue on the pentagram.

With her head lowered, Buffy didn’t notice Willow looking over at the demon then back at her. If she had, Buffy would’ve seen Willow’s look of decision to not press her any further before resuming work on her section.

They finished just when the tinkling of the over-the-door bell alerted them that the gang was back with William. Just like Pavlov’s dog, the bell had Buffy instantly moving from the floor to William.

He looked worse than he did several hours earlier. He appeared considerably weaker, relying heavily on both Giles and Xander to walk. He was muttering nonsensically, while his eyes continually rolled in their sockets.

Buffy took Xander’s place, and she and Giles gently directed William to a chair. Once he was seated, Giles remained close by to ensure he didn’t fall over, as Buffy lowered herself into a crouching position in front of William.

“Hey, William, it’s me Buffy.” She gently cupped his cheeks, guiding his face in her direction. His eyes rolled forward before he squinted, attempting to focus.

“Buffy? My Buffy. So glowing, effulgent. My sun and I’m falling like Icarus…” The rest of his words were murmured making it difficult to understand.

“Giles, please say we’re ready.” Slightly blushing, Buffy stood, not moving too far from William.

“Yes, all we need is William and the demon in position.”

“Okay, can you and Willow help William to the center? Xander, I need help with the demon.” Buffy remained standing next to William until Willow came over. While Willow and Giles guided him to the center of the pentagram, Buffy and Xander moved the demon.

Once both William and the demon were placed inside, everyone moved and stood outside the pentagram. The group studied them with sheer fascination. Despite one being in full demon guise, they looked exactly the same. Especially since William was no longer wearing glasses and was dressed in his original outfit, leather duster and all.

“So Willow, is this an easy spell?” Buffy started pacing nervously, her eyes remaining on William and the demon.

“Yeah, their natural state is to be together. But there could be one big problem. With Toth still being around, I don’t know if this will work.” Willow shifted uncomfortably.

“Ah, yes Willow, this was one of the factors I considered during my research.” Giles returned to the counter and opened the tome.

“What is she talking about, Giles?” Buffy’s strides increased in speed as her trepidation heightened.

“When a caster, especially one as powerful as Toth, is alive during the attempt of breaking their spell, it becomes far more difficult.” Buffy heard the clear uncertainty in Giles’ voice.

“Does difficult mean the spell might backfire? Are we putting them at risk?” Buffy continued pacing while waiting for his response.

“There’s always a risk of a spell not working,” Willow added uneasily.

“Then we’re not doing it. Not until Toth is taken care of.” Buffy’s tone was one of conviction.

“Simply amazing.”

William’s unexpected words drew everyone’s attention and stopped Buffy mid-stride. William was kneeling and leaning unsteadily over his demonic counterpart, actively exploring his features. William’s hands were roaming over the demon’s prominent ridged forehead and then becoming slightly bolder, he started probing the demon’s mouth.

Buffy watched with rapt interest William continuing his examination, and that’s when her thoughts started turning naughty—like her being the one explored by very hands-on Spikes. Then, as though hit by a splash of cold water, she remembered she had a job to do and tamped down her lustiness.

“Guys, keep an eye on them while I’m out hunting Toth. If need be, tranquilize the demon, and make sure William doesn’t get too handsy with his other self.”

“Buffy, are you going to go back to the dump to look for tall, dark, and odiferous?” Xander appeared to be trying hard to ignore William’s roving hands moving over the demon, and Anya watching with clear interest this borderline inappropriate touching.

“Sounds like a good place to start. It’s not like Toth’s just going to show up here asking to be killed—”

On the heels of Buffy’s words, Toth blasted apart the Magic Box’s front door. All eyes turned and watched him emerging from the lingering smoke.

“I wish for a million dollars.” Xander looked upward to an unseen presence, hoping whoever gave Buffy her wish, gave him one as well.

“I will not miss again, Slayer.” Toth snarled, training his weapon on Buffy.

“Give it your best shot, rod-boy.”

With that, Toth launched a blast at Buffy, missing her by a hairsbreadth before she attacked him in a flurry of skillfully placed punches and kicks. Since Toth relied heavily on his weapon, Buffy quickly got the upper hand and with a sweeping kick, knocked Toth’s rod from his hand.

“Buffy!” Giles yelled from his position near center of the room and launched a broad sword in the air toward his Slayer.

Only taking her eyes off her opponent momentarily, Buffy caught the weapon and with a fatal thrust, buried the sword deeply into Toth’s chest. With a roar, the demon collapsed. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Dropping her weapon with a resounding clank, Buffy ran over and stopped on the outskirts of the pentagram. She noticed William and the demon had remained inside. One was staring at her with wide eyes filled with disbelief and the other was stirring awake, most likely from the pungent smell of blood and death.

“Now Willow!” Buffy ordered her friend brusquely.

“Let the spell be ended!” Willow simplistic command triggered a flash of bright light, and then all went still.

All eyes were fixed on the now lone figure sitting in the center of the pentagram. Spike’s eyes remained downcast for several moments before he slowly raised his head. He wore the face of his demon until it suddenly slipped away, leaving only that of William. With weary eyes, Spike focused on Buffy momentarily. Then without a word he rose unsteadily, staggered across the Magic Box and out into the night.








Author’s Notes:

You may think, ‘Hey, don’t you think it was a little convenient Toth just showing up like that.’ Well, yes, but if you remember in the episode, Toth just ‘showed’ up at Xander’s apartment. So I decided to go this way. No harm, no foul.

Beauty and the Beast is a traditional French fairytale, originally published in 1740. Many renditions have been done, including one of my favorite’s Disney’s version. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beast

Florence Nightingale was a tireless nurse who dedicated herself in the care of her patients. She was not emotionally or physically involved with them.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Florence_Nightingale

Florence Henderson played Carol Brady on the Brady Bunchhttp://www.flohome.com/index2.htm

Three’s Company is an American sitcom from 1977-1984. The show center around three roommates, two women and one man, living in Southern California. The man, played by John Ritter pretended to be gay in order to live with two girls. There were two landlords during the course of the show, Mr. Roper, played by Norman Fell and Mr. Farley, played by Don Knots. The landlords were always showing up at inopportune times. The apartment complex was supposed to be for “respectable” people, so no one was allowed to live in sin. However, this was the swinging seventies and early eighties. The show was rife with slapstick comedy...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three'sCompany

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Is a famous quote from Hamlet.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_lady_doth_protest_too_much,

Ivan Pavlov was a Russian physiologist, even though he contributed to the area of psychology. He is famous for an experiment in Conditioned Reflex—using a dog, a bell, and food. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivan_Pavlov

Icarus is a person in Greek mythology who wore wings made of feathers and wax and despite being warned against it, he flew too close to the sun then plummeted to earth and died. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Icarus
End Notes:
Please take a moment to let me know what you think. A moment of your time makes my whole day! Also voting closes for SunnyD Awards Round 25 on December 19th. Remember, the writers are what keep fanfiction alive! Show your support!
Chapter 12 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Here's the next chapter to my tale. Big thanks to my lovely betas: Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Love you amazing ladies! I hope you and yours have a wonderful holiday season and see you next Monday! Without further ado, let's get to it!
Three days. It had been almost three days since Buffy had seen Spike. Normally, well, before this whole split-personality fiasco, she would’ve been relieved, excited even, not be subjected to his annoying presence. Now, she—well, let’s just say she wasn’t.

True, the first two days she really wasn’t looking for him per se. The fact that she’d only chosen to patrol Restfield Cemetery had nothing to do with him, not at all.

However, by the third day, she was done trying to fool herself that she wasn’t missing him. Now why that was, she really couldn’t say. Was it William’s heartwarming shyness and extraordinary intelligence or the demon’s fierce protectiveness and panty-dampening sexiness that she missed? Maybe it was none of these things, or maybe it was all of them and then some. Damned if she knew for sure.

Then adding to the confusion, as if she wasn’t dizzy enough already, she’d come to the shocking realization she had feelings for Spike. What that actually meant she hadn’t a clue.

The only thing she knew for certain was that for her to admit any type of feelings, well, anything besides anger, was a big thing. Like apocalyptic big. Especially when over the years she always found it so much simpler to repress and deny.

No matter what her usual way of handling these things was, she had no choice but to pay full and close attention, while her heart and head yanked away at her like two rabid dogs tug-of-warring over a meaty bone.

Finally after two days, her head waved its tiny white flag in surrender, declaring her heart the winner. The prize, her accepting that she did truly care for him.

However, even after her heart’s victory, she still wasn’t ready to stand up and say, “Hey, guess what, everyone? I care for Spike.”

She’d been down this road before having feelings for a member of the undead-card carrying club, and it didn’t turn out very well. Like—they made with the happy. He turned evil and went on a killing spree, and she sent him to hell and ran away. Then she came back, and he came back and finally he left again—not well.

Also this was Spike, for crying out loud. That alone would earn her a big “What are you thinking?” from everyone. Well, maybe not everyone. Based on her and Willow’s talk before the gang reenacted ‘all the King’s horses and all the King’s men, putting Humpty Dumpty back together again,’ Willow may not be all thumbs-upsy with Buffy’s choice, but at least she’d most likely be all neutral like Switzerland while Giles and Xander launched into attack mode.

Needless to say, after these mentally trying days, she needed something to silence all these lingering thoughts. So when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, she headed off on patrol.

Buffy skillfully twirled her stake while leisurely making a third pass through Restfield Cemetery. Despite her initial plan to not think, her mind all too soon ditched that idea and decided to engage in a lively debate with itself. The topic of discussion: stopping by Spike’s crypt.

Her ‘yea’ side believed this was a great idea, and she was all for it. Well, that was until she started getting closer, and her ‘nay’ side listed a dozen reasons against the plan and then convinced her this was the far better choice.

Gratefully during patrol, there had been a few fledglings giving her moments of distraction, but once the dust settled, her mind returned to the seemingly endless debate.

When she passed the Alpert’s mausoleum for the third time, Buffy’s thoughts were again interrupted by the ever-present tinglies brought on by a master vampire. She didn’t need to look over to the right and several rows of headstones down to know they came directly from Spike’s crypt. Buffy started to head in the opposite direction before stopping herself.

“This is ridiculous! Why am I acting all weird about this? It’s just Spike. All I need to do is just go there like I normally do. No prob.” With an affirmative nod, she turned and walked toward his crypt.

Buffy hovered on the threshold for several moments while deciding between storming in like she normally did and actually being polite and knocking. Not wanting to break too much from routine, since he would really know something was up, she pushed the door open, and in she strolled.

Spike was sprawled across his battered chair, his attention on the screen of his old black and white television, complete with crooked, wire rabbit-ears. He didn’t move from his lax position when she entered.

“I was wonderin’ when you were going to stop with your live version of a duck in a shooting gallery. All that back and forth was ‘bout to drive me around the sodding bend.” Spike shifted and slid his leg off the arm of the chair, his heavy boot landing on the floor with a resounding thud.

“Um—sorry?”

Buffy bit the edge of her bottom lip, while she watched his eyes widen briefly, from what she gathered was surprise, before his previous impassiveness slid back into place. He gracefully stood and took several steps toward her.

She noticed immediately the past few days had done him some good. His pale skin didn’t appear as fragile as an autumn leaf, and the areas under his eyes and cheekbones had filled out some, reducing the startling gauntness of before. Since he wasn’t wearing his coat, she could tell from the lingering bagginess of his clothes, he was still far too thin for her liking.

“So, Slayer, why are you here? Just popping by to make sure ‘m not do anything fun like harassing the locals and what not?”

Spike leaned over and snatched his leather from the back of his chair. He dug through the inner pocket and pulled out a crumbled pack of smokes. Skillfully, he pulled out one with his teeth, and following the snick of his trusty Zippo, the unmistakable smell of burning paper and nicotine laced the air.

“Well, you’ve been kinda MIA for the last few days, and it is my sacred duty to keep track of the evil in this town.” Buffy shrugged her shoulders, her expression equally impassive.

“Right. You’ve fulfilled your obligation, so you can toddle off now.” Spike waved his hand dismissively toward the exit before heading over to his refrigerator and opening the door.

Buffy didn’t move while she watched with rapt interest the way the heavy denim stretched across his firm backside when he leaned over to explore the shelves. When he finally stood, her gaze snapped away from this impressive sight and started darting around the sparsely lit room.

With a bag of blood in hand, he turned toward the sarcophagus. Giving her a long sideways glance, he tore into it with blunt teeth, poured the thick liquid into the glass, and added a hearty dose of some sort of dried herb to the mix.

“Somethin’ else you had in mind, Slayer? ‘M not feeling up to snuff, so if you’re waiting for me to entertain you, you’re shite outta luck.” Spike took a hearty slug of his dinner and placed the glass down on the stone surface.

“No, well, yes, I…um…” Buffy stuttered while shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

Why is this so hard? It’s just Spike!

“Well, which is it Slayer, yes or no?” Spike took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. The hazy plumes lingered momentarily before disappearing into the cool crypt air.

“It’s yes, and I just stopped by, well, not only ‘cause it’s my job,’ but I wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, with everything that happened.”

His expressive eyes narrowed, clearly in reaction to her words. It appeared as though he was trying to figure out what she truly meant. She really couldn’t blame his skepticism. It was just a few days ago that their only interactions consisted of harsh words and threats as well as punches and kicks.

She remained still under his scrutiny, and when it finally seemed that he accepted what he saw, he relaxed.

“Well, ‘m a good as can be expected. Lack of proper feedin’ tends to wreak havoc on a vamp’s body. That and, well, my noggin’s still a little scrambled. It’s taking a bit to suss out all these thoughts and memories.”

“So, you remember…um…everything?” Buffy swallowed hard while the intense images of them in the graveyard flashed through her mind.

“Every—last—one,” Spike purred into the shell of her ear.

Buffy didn’t know how he’d gotten so close to her without her even having noticed him moving. But before she could speak, he was gone and now leaning against his makeshift kitchen counter.

Buffy felt her desire igniting instantly, while her mind tried to catch up with what just happened. As she felt herself being swept away, it was Spike’s frosty remark that doused this burning with a resounding hiss and brought her back to reality.

“No worries, Slayer. The Watcher would give you all high marks for taking me down by only using a little blood and a tranq-toting whelp. Actually ’m surprised you’re here and not with the Watcher giving him play-by-play blows, adding yet another chapter about yours truly to those pretentious diaries the Council keeps.” Spike dropped his rapidly dwindling cigarette on the floor and snubbed it out with the toe of his boot.

“Despite what you think, Spike, I’m not too proud of having to use myself as bait. So you don’t have to worry. The title ‘Slayer of the Slayers’ is still yours. Well, I did my job, so I’m taking off.”

Even though she’d responded with an equal aloofness, it stung that Spike made such an asshole-ish remark.

That was completely a “Spike” remark. What did you expect?

Buffy’s fists clenched from her own thoughts and his words, but instead of lashing out, she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets.

“Good, Great Pumpkin’s on in ten. Don’t rightly need you bollocksing up my telly time.”

With dinner in hand, Spike headed toward his chair and dropped onto the worn cushion. He placed the glass on the floor, leaned forward, and started changing the channel and adjusting the antennas.

Buffy scoffed and turned around to leave, but stopped when the recognizable theme song of the Peanuts’ gang blared from the television’s tiny speakers. She moved forward, while the commercial guy’s soothing voice announced that It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown was coming on next.

A warm smile touched her lips while she watched the gang walking across the screen, all decked out as ghosts, ghouls, and witches with trick or treat bags in hand.

If only a handful of candy took care of the monsters I deal with.

“You still here, Slayer? Thought you needed to get all tucked away in you’re beddy-bye. Needin’ your beauty sleep and all.” Spike’s voice broke her out of her reverie.

“Um…yeah…but…” Buffy’s gaze ping-ponged between Spike and the television.

“Just spit it out, six minutes till showtime,” Spike huffed in irritation.

“Well, I love this show, and by the time I get back to the dorms, it will be over and—” Buffy’s soft voice sounded almost childlike as she tried to explain her dilemma.

Spike took a few moments of what appeared to be mulling over his options, before he sighed in resignation.

“Slayer, do you wanna—” Spike pointed to the screen, intending his gesture to finish his invitation.

Buffy smiled brightly and shed her jacket as she approached the small television area. She laid her jacket on the floor next to arm of his chair and sat down on it, wiggling her bottom several times to get comfortable.

“So do you have any snacks?” Buffy looked up at Spike, her warm smile still in place.










Author’s Notes:

Humpty Dumpty is a famous nursery rhyme. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humpty_Dumpty

Alpert’s mausoleum was a frequently shown crypt in the show. It was named after one of the show’s producers, Marc D. Alpert. http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Sunnydale_Cemetery

It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is, in my opinion, one of the best Halloween kid shows around. I’ve been watching it since as far back as I can remember, and now my kids watch it too. It came out in 1966, and no, I didn’t see it until it had been out for at least ten to twelve years!!! The Peanuts’ gang consists of Charlie Brown, Lucy, Linus, Sally, and other notable characters.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It's_the_Great_Pumpkin,_Charlie_Brown









End Notes:
Please take a moment to let me know what you think. Thanks!
Chapter 13 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Well, hello everyone. I just wanted to take a minute to give you the scoop. Plain and simple, I wasn’t ready to let this story go. I feel there is still more story to tell, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do. In saying this, it’s been almost a week (in this world) since this whole thing started. So this brings us to the following Tuesday and the next episode, Out of my Mind. FYI: I will not be exploring this episode at length. Mainly, I will be referencing to it. The only time I will be spending any time on it, will be when my story differs from the original episode. *whew* Big thanks to my awesome betas Sanityfair and Diebirchen--love you ladies! Now, with that being said, on to the next chapter!
Spike exhaled another steady stream of smoke. The bluish haze encircled his head in a mock halo before thinning out and disappearing into the cool air. He’d been sitting in his chair for what seemed like hours, replaying the evening’s events. Even after all this time, he still wasn’t any closer to understanding them.

With all these thoughts running rampant through his mind, it felt as if his head was ready to explode into gory bits of brain and bone. Only the chip’s electric shocks zipping through his noggin rivaled this in intensity.

Buffy. No matter the route, all roads began and ended with her. He was really having a bitch of a time shaking her. Even though she’d left hours ago, she lingered and was still burrowed deep inside him.

Her unforgettable scent of vanilla, power, and light had made itself at home in every tattered and torn fiber of his chair. With each unnecessary breath, smoked filled or not, she still flooded his nose and lungs. He swore he could almost taste her.

His ears still rang with her tinkling, infectious laughter. While she happily munched away on his snacks, her heartwarming laughter filled the room every time poor ol’ Charlie-boy got a rock in his goody-bag. Spike was utterly baffled when he heard himself laugh with her. Now, he never laughed; he scoffed, maybe even snickered, but never a genuinely jovial burst of sound. Yet there he was, joining in on her amusement.

His skin still tingled from the few times they had accidentally touched, the few times their hands brushed one another’s as they reached into the snack bowl or when they swapped places after he had a chivalrous moment and gave up his cushy seat for the cold stone floor.

Get a grip, mate.

There was no bleedin’ way he could think of her this way. He could handle it being anyone but her. Even being an evil, soulless vampire who never gave a rat’s arse ‘bout morality and what not, he understood with perfect clarity how wrong this was. He wasn’t a complete idiot.

For him to have any type of thoughts or feeling for a Slayer that didn’t involve her bloody and painful death was perverse, sick, and just plain wrong.

No way in hell could he have any feelings for the same tiny bint who had chased away his dark princess and bollocksed up every one of his plans, all the while having a holier-than-thou attitude, spouting stupid puns and kicking his lily-white arse six ways to Sunday.

No, no feelings for the same girl that butchered the English language, had stupid shampoo-commercial hair, and an odd little nose that crinkled up just so and—

Get a grip, mate. Wait! This is all her fault!

It all started earlier tonight when he put all of his parts on the line by entering her personal space. His plan was to rattle her. Get her off balance so she would tip her hand and show what she really wanted from him. He knew first hand the Slayer liked to talk while kicking his arse, so he wagered this would’ve done the trick.

What he didn’t expect was her actual reaction. She was off-balance that was for damn sure, but not with anger as he’d expected. Tonight, she seemed almost nervous. It rolled off her in waves, and what struck him was that he knew this feeling intimately. It felt like the same nervousness he remembered from when he made his feelings known and pledged his devotion to Cecily. The same nervousness William felt around Miss Buffy.

So even after he moved to the other side of the room, he couldn’t help but be drawn in by the steady thumping of her pulse and the rising blush tinting her cheeks. But what captured his attention the most and made his cock ramrod straight, was the sweet musk of desire wafting up from between her thighs.

Make no mistake. He’d smelled this tantalizing scent before, dozens of times in fact. Every Slayer, despite whether they took their calling seriously, like the tiny treat during the Boxing Rebellion or, more like Nikki, who had a flare for kickin’ arse, they all shared one thing, they got off on the fight.

This Slayer was no different from the rest. No matter how high and mighty she acted.

Hell, with her patrolling in those barely legal skirts and using all those high kicks, no wonder he was being constantly hit with a wall of tantalizing womanly musk. He didn’t know if she was totally clueless ‘bout his permanent cockstand when they fought or whether she knew it and loved the fact she wasn’t the only one hiding a concealed weapon. All he did know for sure was that he damn near dusted a few times just from the smell alone.

Hell, there was this one time when she smelled like a bitch in heat, and it wasn’t even during a fight. She was decked out in an all-black, leather number with shiny, blood red lips. She slithered off the dance floor at the Bronze, and with pursed lips and a hip shimmy, she’d set his mind awhirl. In an instant, she’d pinned him against a post in the middle of the place like a moth on a collector’s board with promises of her ridin’ him until he popped like ‘warm champagne.’ Still to this day, that night spurred his hand during a many good, hard wanks, despite her shutting him down in the end with three words, “…Because it’s wrong.”

I’ll show her wrong!

This little girl was playing with fire, and she was going to get burned right quick. You’d think she would’ve learned a thing or two from Angelus. Yet here she was again playing with matches. But this time, it was his flames she was stoking.

Without a doubt, he knew he was love’s bitch. Even when he was human, he always wore his heart on his sleeve and threw himself into love blindly. But this wasn’t love. Now that would be perverse—a Master vampire in love with a Slayer.

With this whole soddin’ mess, the only thing he was willing to admit was that she’d give him one hell of a ride. Now, taking her up on this was extremely tempting, but in the end the fare was way too steep.

Well, it was no matter what his little head thought; his big head called the shots here. First things first, he needed to get the upper hand back.

Yeah, he’d admit it, since the chip, he’d been vulnerable. Even more so in the past few days courtesy of Toth’s wonky spell. Now he had his rocks back, and nobody was going to fuck with him, especially the Slayer.

For the past year or so, he’d played nice to keep his arse from getting staked. And in turn, now the bleedin’ bunch thought he’d gone soft. That he was housebroken. Things had gotten way off balance, and it was time to tip the scales back in his favor.

After this little split, he knew the Slayer and the Scoobies truly believed they had him all figured out. A few days with ol’ William, the few run-ins with the chip-strapped demon, and they knew who he was. But they forgot one big piece of the proverbial puzzle. They forgot about who he really was.

Yeah, William and the demon were part of him that was true, but Spike was the whole package. Their little gang seemed to forgotten about Spike’s one hundred plus years of being one-fourth of the Scourge of Europe and his being a direct descendant of the Master, the same bat-faced bastard that killed this Slayer the first go around, if only temporarily.

And an even bigger mistake on their part, they overlooked his own claim to fame; he’d taken the life of two Slayers and loved every minute of it.

First things first, he needed to clear all this shite from his mind. It used to be so easy, a violent kill, or a long, hard shag usually did the trick. On those nights when he had both at the same time, hell, he’d be lucky to remember his name.

But since the Initiative tinkered around in his melon, he just had to make do. His ol’ pal Jack usually worked, but alcohol was a piss poor substitute for the ruby red. And for the shaggin’, well, Rosy Palm and her five sisters were nothing like the gripping glove of a woman’s quim.

With a derisive snort, and settling for Jack and his hand, Spike headed over to his liquor stash and snagged a bottle. Dropping onto the chair’s worn cushion, he unscrewed the cap and raised the amber liquid to his lips, while his fingers deftly found his zipper.

The loud banging on his crypt door stilled the one hand on his lap, and he lowered his beloved Jack with the other. The noise increased until the door flew open, and in rushed a disheveled and clearly nervous Harmony. She slammed the stone barrier closed and pressed her back to it.

Spike’s gaze moved from the blond vamp, to his hand wrapped around his cock, and then back at Harmony. He took a hearty slug of liquor, savoring the burning as it scorched his throat before hitting and spreading its fiery tendrils throughout his gut. He lowered the bottle and unenthusiastically shrugged his shoulders.

“You’ll do.”


End Notes:
I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. Keep with the spirit of giving, I hope you take the time to leave a little review!
Chapter 14 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Hey! I hope everyone had a wonderful New Year's Eve! I want to give a HUGE thanks to everyone that voted for this story on Sunny D Awards! Also many thanks for voting for Vampires Do Not Sparkle! I'm so grateful! Also, many thanks to my lovely betas Sanityfair and Diebirchen! Love ya, ladies!
Bloody, buggering fuck!

It wasn’t as though his unlife wasn’t pear-shaped enough. Just take today. One moment he was getting ready for a decent wank and to test the limits of his vampire constitution. The next, he was running through Restfield with Harmony hot on his heels while his noggin throbbed unmercifully from the onslaught of mind-numbing electrical shocks, courtesy of his still working chip.

This piss-storm of a day started off with Harm showing up all scared and begging for a place to hide. Sure, a certain part of his anatomy was pleased as punch not to be going solo again. Then she started prattling incessantly, and almost immediately his willy pulled a turtle, showing no interest in coming out to play.

Will. You. Shut. The. Hell. Up!

Harmony’s yapping made his cock as lifeless as a freshly drained corpse. Hell, in one hundred twenty-plus years it never mutinied like this. He knew this had nothing to do with him. What’s more, he knew it had nothing to do with Harmony’s hair being the wrong shade of blonde or her tits, though nice, far too big or her eyes the wrong color. No, it was just Harm’s nails-on-a-chalkboard voice, nothing more.

As the day wore on, the only upside, besides scaring Harm with a handful of crypt dust, was the Slayer storming in all business-like while he and Harmony were finishing up their fifth round of “Is it bigger than a sodding bread box?”

Seeing the Slayer in all her glory—now that got a rise outta him! Then she started talking, and in two point five seconds, he went from hard as nails to completely brassed-off and, well, still hard.

Never mind her storming in like she owned the place, but when she pulled out money as if she was bribing him, when in actuality she was demanding he search the Initiative’s caves for her sickly solider boy. Now that had him teetering on the edge. Adding insult to injury, she slapped him, ripped the money in half, and after shoving the mangled dosh at him, with a flip of her stupid hair, she turned and stormed out.

That Bitch!

The demon inside him roared and demanded immediate payback for her treating him like he was beneath her once again. For far too long he’d been playing nice in the Slayer’s sandbox, and now he’d had enough! Things were going to change and right quick.

Hell, he should actually thank her. This little visit really put things into perspective. He now knew her game, and he’d be damned all over again if she caught him off-guard a second time. When he was ‘doubled,’ the Slayer had really played him good. Instead of her usual threat-punch-threat combo, she used another tactic that had thrown him completely off balance; she acted as if she cared about him.

When in truth, she was doing nothing more than her job. Saving the weak and helpless was part of the Slayer’s gig, and the identity of the needy person de jour didn’t really matter. All that mattered was her fighting the good fight for puppies, soccer moms, and what not. He was such a dolt thinking for one moment she was actually trying to save him.

“I don’t, but that what’s right.”

At the time, her words had stung him deeply. Well, even though at first he hadn’t done anything about that bitch remark, he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let this slight go unpaid any longer. Yeah, his eyes were clear now, and today’s visit was the proverbial final straw. It was decided, come hell or high water he was getting his fangs back. And when that happened, he’d thank the Slayer good and proper—

One—good—day

Spike couldn’t wait to make her nearly pristine neck his chalice and drink deep. Now, he never believed in fate or all that rot, but this Slayer bore the marks of two members of his line, and it seemed almost predestined that he be next. Unlike his predecessors, he wouldn’t stop with just a taste. Oh no, he intended on making her the third notch in his belt.

His plan was simple: go to the hospital, borrow the doc, get a chip-ectomy and then kill the Slayer. Unfortunately, like all his plans on the Hellmouth, nothing ever went his way. Well, initially he thought everything was going damn near perfect. That was his first mistake.

Harm knocked out one of the Initiative boys, and then they took the doc, setting him up real nice to get the job done. Despite the doc initially being scalpel-shy he finally got down to business, and after some poking and prodding, he removed the chip. Just as doc finished sewing him up, the pièce de résistance happened—the Slayer burst in with her worse-for-wear cub scout in tow.

Now the real fun can begin!

Spike shot a knowing grin to Harm before they suited up. After he’d traded a few barbs with the Slayer, he and Harmony attacked. She took on the almost-walking- -dead while Spike had the Slayer.

Their brief tussle only fueled Spike’s appetite, and finally at long last, he had the Slayer right where he wanted her—wriggling beneath him, all ripe and ready for the taking. Then the instant he lunged for her throat, the chip fired, letting him know in no uncertain terms he was still fangless.

Fortunately for him, the only thing that kept his arse from a certain dusting was Captain Cardboard crying out while he clutched his chest and going down like a giant Sequoia. So while the Slayer tended her downed boyfriend, he and Harm high-tailed it out of there.

During the whole trip back to his crypt, he was still pissed-off as ever, cursing and vowing to get his revenge. Once they arrived, his anger hadn’t lessened, and he took to pacing the confined space like a caged panther. Still seething, Spike didn’t notice Harmony watching him cautiously.

“Um, Spikey? I know you’re all with the pacing and the ‘grrrr,’ but do you think we can get someone to eat? My tummy’s all rumbly.”

Spike ignored her and remained on course. Harmony huffed in frustration, and when her stomach protested once more, she moved into Spike’s path. He came to a halt before crashing into her.

“Harm! What the bleeding hell?” Spike vamped out briefly, then his human guise slid back into place.

“I told you, I’m hungry and bored, and—” Harmony’s whiny voice was cut off mid-sentence by Spike’s hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing. He lowered his head to eye level with the stunned vampiress, and when he spoke, his voice held pure malice.

“Look you stupid bint, ‘m tired of the women in my life thinkin’ they can boss me around. No more, you hear me? No—more! Now, I suggest you get your kit and sod off before you end up a pile of dust.” Spike shoved her away by the throat, and when he released her, she stumbled before righting herself. Without a word, Harmony scrambled to collect her things and left quickly.

Ah—silence!

With a short-lived, triumphant smile, Spike flopped down on his battered chair, leaned over, picked up his beloved Jack from the floor, and took a hearty swig. That was the last thing he remembered when he was awakened by another round of pounding on his crypt door. Groggily, he sat up and wiped away the residual whiskey from the corner of his mouth.

He knew who it was even before she entered. He would know her in a heartbeat. Well, if he had one. Spike wore a brief, smug smile as he stood to greet his visitor. He’d been mentally preparing himself for this fight since he took off from the hospital.

“Should have known it'd be you. Been nearly six hours.”



Earlier that day




Really? Could my life get any worse?

Buffy wearily eyed the six foot two wake up call standing at her door. With a nod, she stepped aside to let in her clearly dismayed ex-boyfriend. Buffy took a seat on her rumpled bed, while Riley sat across from her on Willow’s meticulously made one. Each one seemed to be waiting for the other one to start, but before a word could be spoken, the phone rang. It was Dawn.

Buffy couldn’t remember the specifics of what her clearly upset sister had said. All she knew was that her mom was at Sunnydale General. In a whirlwind, Buffy collected some clothes and headed off to the bathroom. She returned less than ten minutes later to find Riley where she had left him. Without a word, he headed out with an extremely worried Buffy following closely behind.

When they arrived, a helpful intern named Ben informed her that her mother had fainted, and they were now running tests to find out the cause. Buffy was grateful that during the short time it took for her to get there, Ben had sat with Dawn and even loaned her his stethoscope.

While they waited for the results, another emergency popped up. While Buffy and Dawn were getting snacks, Dawn told her that with the stethoscope she heard Riley’s heart beating a mile a minute.

Remembering full well Riley was once the Initiative’s guinea pig; Buffy sprang into action. Gratefully, even though they hadn’t said two words to one another, he didn’t put up much of a fight when she asked him to be checked out.

The emergency room doctor wanted Riley to be admitted, but being a typical stubborn male, against medical advice, he signed himself out and left the hospital. Buffy wanted to ask him to stay, but not being able to pull the girlfriend card made it kinda difficult, so she just had to let him go.

Soon after Riley left, her mom was cleared by the doctors and released. When they finally returned home, Willow arrived, and the three girls doted on her mother, helping her get comfortable.

Once she was situated, Buffy, Willow, and Dawn headed upstairs. After going back and forth for an hour on what to do about Riley, Buffy asked Willow to keep an eye on Dawn and her mom, while she dealt with Riley and his possibly exploding heart.

Buffy went to Riley’s apartment. He wasn’t there, but getting an idea from one of Dawn’s many ‘interesting facts,’ Buffy picked up Riley’s seemingly typical phone and told whoever was listening that he needed help.

It didn’t take long for Graham to catch up with her on campus, and she quickly let him know the deal. He confirmed what the emergency room doctor had said: Riley needed immediate medical attention, and a doctor was waiting for him on the fourth floor of Sunnydale General. All Buffy had to do was to get him there.

Great, it’s not like I don’t have enough on my plate!

After a short ‘Operation Find Riley’ Scooby meeting, Xander and Anya headed off to docks, Willow and Tara took off to search the burned out Sunnydale High, and based on Giles’ suggestion, Buffy headed over to see Spike. Buffy put up a good front claiming she didn’t want to see Spike, but truly, a part of her was looking forward to it.

Strangely, the night before when they shared snacks and laughs about poor Charlie Brown was really fun. Unfortunately, with how today had been going—first with her ex-boyfriend taking the place of her alarm clock, her mom’s trip to the hospital, and now said ex playing all Joe-macho and running down the path of self-destruction—the glad-to-see-Spike Buffy part of her was swallowed up by her no-nonsense Slayer side.

Looking back, she should’ve known when storming into Spike’s crypt with her bitch-guns a’blarin’ that she was going to get the reaction she did. But like everything in life, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

Well, I really can’t blame him for being all pissed off.

After she left and headed to the Initiative’s caves, she got to thinking. When this whole thing with Riley was resolved, she was going back to Spike’s and—and what? Apologize? Now, that would launch their relationship right into bizarro world.

Well, not exactly apologize, but maybe she could bring over some snacks, and they could rent a movie. Two hours of not having to talk she could handle. Okay, that could work. Wait, it can’t. Since Spike had an old, crappy black and white with no VCR, they would have to go somewhere else. Maybe he could come over to—

Shit, wasn’t I supposed to be looking for Riley?

When she finally found her ex skulking in the caves, they started talking. Surprisingly, it went fairly well, all things considered. She clarified that even though they were no longer together, she cared for his well-being and stressed how important it was for him to get to the hospital ASAP.

Riley did put up a small fight. He questioned why their relationship was over and had some valid points about why he didn’t want an Initiative doctor poking around in his body. Thankfully, after they hashed everything out, she rushed him to the hospital.

You. Gotta. Be. Kidding. Me!

Stupid Buffy! Earlier after she stormed into Spike’s crypt she felt kinda bad the way she treated him. Then he had to go and be all evil! Well, that’s it! She thought that maybe she and Spike could be well, less enemy-like, but then he went and stole the doc to get his chip out! Never mind him hooking up again with dead and brainless. Then to top it all off, he tried to bite her!

You know what? She should really thank him. Well, not for the wanting to kill her part, but for how this little stunt took her blinders off and showed her who he really was. He was a vampire, a killer, plain and simple. She continued to chant this mantra during the whole trip back to her house to check on her mom then on the return trip to his crypt.

Now with her anger coming to a full boil and the Slayer firmly in place, she entered with her usual flare. The sound of stone meeting stone stoked her inner fire even more. She watched as Spike languidly stood from his chair and turned to greet her with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Should have known it'd be you. Been nearly six hours.”








Author’s Notes:

The last lines of both sections are taken directly from the episode “Out of My Mind” written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner.


End Notes:
Please take a moment to let me know, good, bad, or otherwise your thoughts!
Chapter 15 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
I would like to take this time to thank everyone who have been following this story. Words can not express how much this means to me. I'd like to also thank my amazing betas Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Without their guidance and help, my work wouldn't be what it is today. Love you ladies!
“Should have known it'd be you. Been nearly six hours.”

“Well, it would've been less if I wasn't busy cleaning up your mess.”

In a whirlwind of fury, Buffy entered and moved within ten feet of the clearly annoyed vamp standing before her.

My mess? I just borrowed the doc. The mess is yours, Slayer. Yours and the boy's.” With evident disdain, Spike eyed Buffy as one side of his mouth curled into a scowl.

“I'm done.” Buffy skillfully unsheathed her stake and advanced toward him, her target his century-long stilled heart. She watched Spike’s eyes widen briefly before the look of pure loathing returned.

“Spike, you're a killer. And I shoulda done this years ago.” Buffy heard the strong determination in her voice, but it didn’t quite match her feelings inside.

“You know what? Do it. Bloody just do it.”

“What?” Buffy’s voice trembled slightly, his unexpected response throwing her off kilter.

“End—my—torment. Seeing you every day, everywhere I go, every time I turn around. Take me out of a world—that has you in it! Just kill me!” Boldly, Spike stepped forward, lifting his chin in defiance and puffing out his chest, offering her a clear target.

Even with confusion reigning, instinctually, Buffy lunged forward. When Spike winced and reflexively recoiled slightly, her hand stilled, poised in mid-strike.

Buffy searched his eyes. Despite his outward bravado, they told a completely different story. He was truly scared and confused. In fact, his emotions pretty much ran the gamut at the moment, as did hers.

His standing there so vulnerable, changed her desire to destroy him into another undeniable desire.

Suddenly, Spike grabbed Buffy by her upper arms. His gaze darted quickly over her features before pulling her closer and kissing her passionately. His mouth swallowed her heady mewls as she returned his kiss with equal fervor.

They savored one another, until the reasons of why she was truly there finally broke through the wall of hazy lust and caused her to pull away. She stepped back, her shocked gasp spilling around her hand now covering her mouth.

Their eyes locked in confused, wide-eyed stares, while their panting drowned out the clatter of her stake hitting the floor.

Buffy’s fingers lingered on her tingling lips momentarily then fell away as her hand lowered. With determination, she approached Spike. Placing both of her hands to the back of his head, she drew him into another fierce kiss.

Responsively, his arms encircled her, clutching her closer while their mouths fought for dominance. Spike’s lips then broke from hers, moved to her cheek and jaw spreading kisses there, before descending her proffered neck. Her ever increasing mewls voiced her approval of his passionate nips and kisses.

“I—so—hate you!” Buffy gasped while Spike teased her sensitive pulse point with blunt teeth.

“The feeling’s mutual—Slayer!” Spike’s mouth returned to hers, his tongue sweeping inside to savor her unique flavor—chocolate mixed with unbridled passion—a deadly combination.

Their hands impatiently explored one another, never settling in one place for long. Breaking contact with his lips momentarily, Buffy leapt up and nimbly wrapped her legs around his waist.

Spike, not missing a beat, cradled his hands under her ass and squeezed playfully. His eager mouth returning to hers muffled her squealed response.

Within four lengthy strides, he carried his precious bundle over to the sarcophagus; all the while they remained lip-locked. After gently placing her on top, he slid her into position at the very edge. Then his hands moved from the luscious globes of her bottom to weave into her golden hair. Spike settled between her thighs, rocking his hips rhythmically with his tongue thrusting into her mouth.

With his hardness rubbing the rigid fabric of her jeans tediously against her clit, Buffy explored the planes of his back with eager grasps and sweeps of her hands. As she felt his muscles bunching under her touch, she could feel the deep burning within building to a fevering pitch.

Their kisses were fervent and untamed. She had never kissed another this way. She’d always held back. With Angel, it was inexperience. With Parker and Riley, it was because they were human. However, with Spike she didn’t need to hold back. For the first time, she’d met her equal.

This epiphany hit her like a bucket of ice water. She stopped moving, and her body went rigid.

Spike seemed to instantly notice this change in her. His hands left her hair and cupped her face gently, as his gaze met hers.

“Second thoughts, luv?”

“Yes, well, no. No second thoughts. Actually, you need a first thought before you can have a second. And all these mind-melting kisses, so not helping with that.”

“Well, I always found thinking to be far overrated myself. Care to join me back in the world of blissful mindlessness?” Spike leaned forward, his lips seeking hers. Right before they landed, Buffy placed her hands on his chest, keeping him at bay.

“Mmm—very tempting, but don’t you think we should talk first?”

Buffy wanted to dive head first into mindlessness with him, but the adult-like notion of trying to do this right and getting what needed to be said out there, held her back.

“Right, talk.” With a huff, Spike moved from his spot between her thighs and extracted himself from her embrace. He stepped back just out of arm’s reach.

“Are you—mad?” Buffy tried to mask the worry lacing her voice but she knew deep down she failed miserably.

It was amazing how fast things changed. A week ago, she wouldn’t have cared if she upset him. Now, the fact that she might have screwed things up royally, really bothered her.

“Oh no, luv. Horny as hell and dying to be back over there touching you, but not mad. Need some distance to think ‘s all.”

Spike lifted his hand to touch her face, but it fell away before making contact. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair and headed over to his coat, searching the pockets for his cigarettes. When he came up empty-handed, he started pacing.

Buffy was grateful he wasn’t mad, but her anxiousness lingered as the silence between them grew to an almost oppressive level. Getting slightly dizzy watching him, Buffy’s gaze lowered and focused on her sweater while her fingers toyed with the fabric. Every time she tried to speak, the words stilled in her throat, and her mouth snapped shut.

“I never wanted anyone, especially you, to see me like that.” Spike’s voice was low, almost a mere whisper.

Buffy looked up and searched for Spike. She found him standing off in the shadows of his crypt, only his outline visible to her in the dim light.

“William or the demon?” Despite being unable to see him clearly, her gaze remained fixed on where his voice resonated.

“Truth be told, William. One hundred and twenty years I tried to bury the ponce, only for him to be brought back to living color by some wonky spell. In front of the Slayer, no less.”

Buffy could almost hear—was that embarrassment lacing Spike’s voice?

“I don’t get it. William was so sweet. Yeah, a little hard to understand sometimes, but he was nothing but polite and helpful and—ah, no wonder you didn’t want me to meet him.”

“Even shortly after I was turned, William was still a joke. But at that point, I had a choice to remain who I was or change. I chose change. I wasn’t gonna be anyone’s punch-line any longer. Gone went the stuffy clothing and speech. No longer was I afraid of my own shadow or giving a rot what others thought of me. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I was reborn—I became Spike.”

On his last word, he emerged from the shadows wearing the face of his demon. With hesitant steps, he approached Buffy. Stopping within hairsbreadth of her, he regarded her with golden eyes.

Buffy tentatively raised her hand and with gentle sweeps, she explored his face. Even with his eyes falling closed and his prominent demonic ridges, she believed he wore a look of pure bliss.

Then stilling her hand, Buffy closed the distance between them and tenderly placed a lingering chaste kiss to his lips. All too soon she ended the kiss, pulled away, and regarded Spike. His demon façade had melted away, leaving only William and his striking blues behind.

Needing to regain her composure and to not jump the totally sexy blond staring at her, Buffy leaned back against the sarcophagus, relying on the solidness of the stone to keep her grounded.

Trying to take her mind off her burning insides, Buffy tapped into all the thoughts plaguing her since she realized William and the demon were both actually Spike.

“See, I’m more of an action kinda gal. I’m not really used to talking about my feelings or being one for self-actualization. But despite all that, I really think you and I are a lot alike.”

“Huh, didn’t know you were so deep, Slayer.” Spike’s trademark smirk teased his full and tempting lips.

“Well, Spike, I is a college student. Besides partying, deep is in.” Buffy mirrored his grin.

“That you is, kitten. So tell me how you figure we’re alike? Well, besides us both being natural blonds?” Spike reached out and wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger, tugging it teasingly.

“You’re such an ass. You know that? Here I am trying to talk with you, and then you go and be all Spike-ish!” Bristling, Buffy tried to push past him, but Spike held his ground. He placed his hands on her waist, stilling her. Despite her silence, her gaze held pure daggers.

“Baby, ‘m sorry. I’m a bad, rude man who should be punished—severely.” Spike tucked his talented tongue behind his pearly whites, his brows wagged suggestively.

Trying to hold her ground, she crossed her arms defiantly and gave him a classic Buffy eye roll.

“Yeah, you’re right. You are rude, and I should punish you. Ah—I got it. The punishment for your fresh mouth is I’m banning you from mine. No more kisses for you.”

She held back her laughter when she watched his bottom lip turn down into a pout.

His is almost better than mine. Almost, but not quite.

She turned her head away from him in a faux shunning, her resolve firm. Unexpectedly, she felt his grip on her hips shifting then his cool breath on the column of her throat.

Her eyes fluttered close from the lightest brush of his lips on her skin. He scaled her throat, and once he reached the shell of her ear, his deep baritone voice triggered her to instantly shiver with lust.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” Following his blunt teeth gently tugging on her ear lobe, his mouth returned to his tedious trek.

“Please—” Grasping his biceps, Buffy tried not to give in, but she was helpless to his form of persuasion.

“Mmm—please what? This?” She cried out when his teeth clasped onto the juncture between her throat and shoulder.

“More—”

Buffy pleaded for more, but for what she couldn’t say. His mouth back on her throat had completely blanked out her mind, and all she could do was feel.

“You want more—talking?”

With that he was gone, and she almost fell forward from the lack of his body supporting her. It took several moments for her mind to catch up that he was no longer there making her body sing.

“Huh?” Buffy slowly opened her eyes to see where he was. She found him sitting on the arm of his chair, wearing a smug Cheshire grin.

“You’re evil. You know that?” She tried to bring her raging hormones under control, and it took all of her power not to go over there and continue where they’d left off.

“Very and don’t you forget it. Now, how are we two sides of the same coin?”

Buffy thought he was teasing her again, but when she recognized the serious tone, she followed suit.

“Two sides…” Her brow scrunched slightly with confusion.

“Alike, luv. How are we alike?”

“Oh yeah. Well, we are a lot alike, actually more than I care to admit. See, we both have these other, I guess you can call them alter egos, inside us. They give us things, like strength, power, and a bunch of other superhero perks. But at the same time they take things away. Like you not being big with the sunshine or me having a normal life.” With the last few words, Buffy’s voice had lowered to a faint whisper.

Before the first tear could escape, Spike’s arms were wrapped around her, holding her in a comforting embrace. With her head on his chest and arms encircling his waist, she relished in their closeness.

“Sweetheart, I have it on good authority that normal is way overrated.” He placed a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

“Like thoughts?” Buffy sniffled, her voice slightly muffled from her face buried in his chest.

“Yeah, like thoughts.”

Spike held her close, until she felt a part of him demandingly pressing against her stomach. Buffy looked up at him and raised her brows in question.

“What? You expect him to behave all proper like with a warm, beautiful woman in my arms? Hardly.”

Pressing a kiss to his chest, she reluctantly pulled from his arms, and hoping to lessen the temptation, moved away. She brushed away residual wetness from her cheeks, and with a cleansing breath continued.

“Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, so that’s one way we are alike. Another more important way, is that even though we have these alter egos, they don’t make us, well—us. At first when I learned I was all chosen, I hated it, and at times I still do. But during the chrysanthemum, when I lost all my powers, it was totally awful. And that’s not even counting the mom-stealing, crazy vamp they trapped me in the house with.”

“It’s Cruciamentum, luv. And yeah, before you ask, I’ve heard of it. Nearly read every Watcher diary Rupert had. And no, we are not going to discuss that.”

“Well, you were really cute. In a Watcher Jr. sorta way—” She smiled coyly.

“Yeah, well, get on with our similarities, or I might forget my manners and ravish you right now, talking be damned.”

Unlike the threat it was meant to be, Buffy’s mind went straight to a very naughty place. Then with a deep breath, she tamped down the lusties.

“So even though I might act like slaying’s a burden, it’s a part of me that I wouldn’t give up. Don’t get me wrong, I’d defiantly give up how rough it is on my wardrobe, and the hours really suck, but otherwise, no. Even though I’m the Slayer, that’s not all of me. I’m Buffy too. Just plain ol’ Buffy. I like shopping, figure skating, and hanging with my friends. Sometimes I think everyone forgets that. Well, everyone except you, Spike. You, more than anyone else, know that even though there are different parts of you, one part doesn’t determine who you are. I’m both the Slayer and Buffy. And you’re William, the demon, and Spike all rolled up in a bleached-blond package.”

Even though Buffy’s eyes shone with unshed tears, she hoped her soft smile expressed she wasn’t upset. Actually, she was far from it. For once in her life she felt free. Free from other’s misconceptions and judgmental opinions.

It wasn’t easy putting her feelings into words, but she was so glad she had. For the first time in her young life, the heavy weight usually residing on her shoulders was now suddenly gone.

This time when Spike swept her into his arms, she had no intention of leaving. The feelings and thoughts she needed to get out were finally spoken. Now, all she wanted was to show him all that she hadn’t put into words.

When his mouth met hers, the passion behind his kiss proved to her he understood everything with perfect clarity. For the first time, she was going to share herself with someone who truly accepted her—All of her.









Author’s Notes:

Some of the dialogue came directly from the episode “Out of My Mind” written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner.
End Notes:
I would greatly appreciate but a moment of your time to relay what you thought about this chapter. Please? See, I'm not too proud to beg. ;)
Chapter 16 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
Hello--hello, is there anybody out there? Just review if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home? Sorry, a little Pink Floyd humor. Anywho, here's the next installment of my tale. Oh, before you go, let me give big thanks to my ladies, Sanityfair and Diebirchen. Love ya!
Buffy found it harder and harder to stay grounded and not lose herself completely to his gentle touches and whispered devotions. The single tether binding her to reality almost snapped when he asked if he could take her to bed in order to worship her properly.

She must have said “Yes,” because the next thing she realized, he’d swept her up into his arms all Harlequin-novel-like, and whisked her to the other side of the crypt before jumping down through a hole in the floor.

Down the rabbit’s hole with Alice—

He landed gracefully, then lowered her feet to the floor with equal care. She still couldn’t shake this silly little thought, regardless of the overwhelmingly romantic ambiance of the soft glow from several scattered candles and the massive bed adorned with black silk sheets.

Spike’s arms encircled her waist, and he leaned forward to recapture her lips, but stopped when noticing her trying to stifle laughter. His scarred brow rose in question.

“Luv, it tends to wound a man’s pride, giggling before he takes you to bed.”

“Sorry, it’s just I was thinking how I was brought down the rabbit’s hole by Alice,” Buffy giggled, while smoothing her hands over his chest in a tender gesture.

“Well, no worries. Unlike that silly bird, I don’t need teacakes with frosted lettering to tell me to eat you.” Spike playfully growled and nipped at her throat.

“Eww—pig much?” Buffy scrunched her nose in telltale distaste, but her coquettish grin gave away her true thoughts.

“Fine, perhaps I should offer up my services elsewhere.” Feigning hurt, Spike tried to release his grip, only to be stopped by Buffy’s hands clasping his wrists, stilling him.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere!” Her tone held an overall lightheartedness with a faint hint of underlying seriousness.

“Ooh—kitten has claws.”

“You better believe it! Especially when it comes to what is mine.”

Both stared at one another wearing equally stunned expressions. That was until it all became too much, and Buffy needed to look away. The silence stretched between them until she finally found her voice, but her eyes remained downcast.

“Um—what I meant—see, I don’t think—well, you’re not mine in the sense of actually belonging—"

Spike placed his fingers to her chin and tenderly guided her gaze to his, which instantly hushed her rambling.

“Buffy, I am yours. That’s if you’ll have me.”

Spike regarded her in a way that no man had ever done, in total acceptance and admiration. This nearly brought Buffy to tears, but before the water works started, she gently cupped his face and placed a chaste kiss to his slightly parted lips.

“Make love to me, Spike.”

A soft moan was his only reply when he scooped her up as he did earlier, brought his lips back to hers, and strode to his bed. When he shifted to place her on the mattress, Buffy tensed in his arms, stilling him.

“Luv?”

“Do you think, um, maybe we can change the sheets? Since you and Harmony, well—” Buffy gestured toward the bed, her nose scrunched up, but unlike before this time it was in real disgust.

“I didn’t shag Harmony. I’m not going to lie. I wanted to. But certain parts didn’t want to comply.” Spike raised his brows, clearly trying to hint to what he was referring to without actually saying it.

“Oh—Ohh. So is rising to the occasion usually a problem for you or…” Buffy stifled her giggle, trying to appear sincere but failing miserably.

Without a word, Spike shifted and situated her until her legs were wrapped around his waist. With his hands under her bottom, he raised his hips, so the aforementioned part rubbed intimately against her.

Gah! Clearly not a problem at all!

“Mmm—I guess he does seem to have a mind of his own. In this case, I should thank him for wanting only the best. That’s you, Buffy.” Before she could respond, Spike recaptured her mouth.

Buffy was startled momentarily, then melted into the kiss with a pleasured moan. She wrapped her arms around his neck more tightly, dropped her legs from his hips, and guided them down onto the mattress.

With Buffy lying beneath him, Spike braced himself on his forearms while their mouths dueled, as her hands eagerly swept along his upper body. When her fingers brushed against his nipples, she heard a responsive moan. Boldly, she retraced the path using her nails. This earned her a deep growl, and his mouth lowered to her throat, where he proceeded to sensuously tease its sensitive length.

She felt him shifting off to her side to allow room for his hands to join in the exploration. Even with his all-consuming kisses, his touch was tender, almost hesitant. With each item of clothing he removed, he stopped to admire another span of skin revealed to him, all the while murmuring endearments.

Every part of her from her “dainty but powerful hands” to the surprisingly sensitive arch of her foot, he worshiped. Spike finally ended this blissful torment when Buffy was clad only in panties and a matching black lace bra.

She’d been on the verge of climax for so long; she was nearly out of her mind with lust. With her eyes closed, it took a few moments for Buffy to come down from those heights and realize he’d stopped touching her and was now standing beside the bed.

She felt his heated gaze roaming over her body, but she couldn’t look at him quite yet. Even after all they had done, she still feared this wasn’t real and that he was now wearing the classic smug smirk that accompanied all the times he pulled one over on her. She knew if this were the case, she would surely fall to pieces. Undeniably she needed to face him, so she gathered up her courage and opened her eyes.

She noticed instantly he wasn’t wearing a smirk. Actually, he wasn’t wearing anything at all. Buffy was in total awe at the sight. He was stunning. His body was muscular but not bulky, more sleek and lithe. His pale skin reminded her of marble—pale and hard, with every slight imperfection making him uniquely beautiful.

She swelled with womanly pride watching him barely containing himself. Without a word, his body was screaming for hers, from his unneeded quick breaths and the flashes of gold in his deep blue eyes, to his cock appearing to tic in time with her racing heartbeat. He appeared to only be waiting for her acceptance.

Buffy held her hand out to him, and he clasped it in his own. He tenderly kissed her knuckles, moved to her wrist, and lingered on her pulse point before leisurely trekking higher.

Her eyes fluttered closed, savoring each soft brush of his lips. She felt the bed dip under his weight and while he moved across her collarbone, Buffy weaved her fingers into the unfettered hair at the base of his skull and directed his mouth back to hers.

Buffy hungrily savored his lips before skillfully rolling their bodies until she was astride his lap, with her clothed mound surrounding his cock. Buffy planted her hands on his chest and swiveled her hips.

“Naughty little minx.”

After several passes, her eyes fluttered closed. Spike used this to his advantage by grabbing her hips and rolling them over once more. Instinctually, she splayed her thighs to accommodate him, and once he was settled, she wrapped her legs around him.

Spike returned to lavishing her neck with kisses and nips while he rocked his hips unhurriedly, creating a delicious friction.

“Please, Spike—please—”

“Let me give you what you need, sweetheart.” Spike rumbled these words against her ear, and she could only whimper in response.

He pulled back slightly, releasing the front clasp of her bra. With tedious slowness, he dragged aside one silky cup then the other, causing her nipples to pucker. Even though her whole body buzzed with pleasure, she still craved more.

“Spike, stop teasing and touch me.” Her voice roughened with desire triggered Spike’s classic panty-dampening tongue and teeth tuck.

“Where? Here?”

Teasingly, Spike’s finger circled around her navel, before trailing in the valley of her breasts and lazily running it along her collarbone.

“Please, touch my—”

Buffy’s cheek flushed with embarrassment. She was never really vocal during sex, but it seemed that Spike was. No surprise there.

“You need to be a tad more specific, luv. Tell me, Buffy. Tell me where and how you want me to touch you.”

She shivered from his growled command. When she hesitated, he started to shift and move away.

“Touch—touch my breasts.”

Spike changed direction and now hovered over her at eye level.

“With—” This single word coaxed her answer.

“Your hands, your mouth—please, I’m begging you just—”

Buffy’s words stilled in her throat and were replaced by an ecstatic, “Yes!” when he deftly circled one breast with his tongue as his fingers mirrored the action on its twin.

Never before had anyone known her body so well. Now the only thing of importance was that Spike continued to make her body sing. Every sweep of his hands, every brush of his lips, made her fall apart just a little more.

Spike lavished attention on her breasts with both his mouth and hands unrelentingly. His touch was maddening, but at the same time exquisite. When Buffy felt Spike’s tongue lapping the underside of her breast then trailing downward, her hips rose on their own accord, guiding him where she craved him to go.

She felt his deep-throated chuckle vibrating against her stomach. When he reached her panties, he dotted kisses along the edge before mouthing her through the fabric.

When he closed his mouth over her clothed sex and suckled, she instantly wailed her release. Spike prolonged her earth-shattering climax by pulling her panties taut until the black fabric made a thin line pressing against her clit as his tongue worked her into frenzy.

Buffy shook as her second orgasm crested and washed over her, as she felt Spike fisting and removing her panties with one quick yank. Any complaint to be made about destroyed panties was lost as she cried out when his mouth returned to her body.

He switched between worrying her clit with his teeth and running his tongue over her swollen lips and suckling. He brought her again and again to the brink of her third climax yet never let her fall.

“Spike—”

In a flurry of motion, Spike was hovered above her, his eyes gazing intently into hers.

“Buffy, let me in. Please.”

In response, she reached down, grasped his cock, and guided the belled head to brush against her opening. Neither spoke a word, but their eyes spoke volumes.

Spike then shifted and slowly inch by inch, entered her. When he was finally fully seated, they remained still just savoring one another, until Buffy grasped the two round fleshy globes of his ass and rolled her hips urging him to move.

His pace started with slow and deep measured thrusts. Each stroke fed the lovers’ desire for more. Soon the room was filled with the steady rhythm of flesh meeting flesh and exchanged words expressing heightened pleasure.

Their mouths crashed and devoured while their hands roamed and clutched. Deftly, she wrapped her legs tighter around him and rolled them over, as she reached for the zenith of her climax.

In this new position, Buffy felt so full. Soon they found a pace that struck her clit with every down-stroke, as Spike caressed her breasts. Her mind and body hummed, but there was something missing. When she focused on his face, she knew instantly the answer. Spike was battling against his demon’s need to emerge.

Without any thought, she knew deep down what she needed to do. Buffy slowed her movements, gathered her hair, and moved it to the side, baring her neck.

When she had his full attention, using the sharp edge of her nail, she scored her neck, right above her pulse point, drawing blood. Buffy wet her fingertips in the wound, then brought her fingers to his mouth and painted his lips with what she knew the demon craved.

Unable to hold his demon at bay any longer, Spike grabbed her fingers and drew them inside his mouth to clear away the blood. Once laved clean, he removed her fingers.

“Buffy?” The uncertainty in his voice nearly broke her.

“I want you, all of you. William, Spike, and the demon.”

Following her admission, Buffy leaned forward and kissed him passionately. Her tongue darted into his mouth and ran along one fang, drawing more blood.

Spike suckled her tongue, and in a flurry of motions, he rolled them and drove deep inside her. The new pace he set was blissfully animalistic. Buffy held on tightly and offered her neck to her demon lover.

“Drink.”

Spike growled and latched his mouth over the small wound. When she felt his fangs entering her gently, Buffy instantly shattered into orgasm. While she rode out her climax, the need to bring him with her was so great she reacted by sinking her teeth into the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

Spike growled and released her neck. With two more brutal thrusts, he roared his completion. His thrusts slowed, until they finally stopped.

Sated, he collapsed on top of her, his unneeded breath rasping loudly in her ear. Buffy ran her fingers through his hair, further releasing the trapped curls.

“Spike?” Buffy pressed a kiss to his forehead, and she shifted her body, trying to jostle the vamp lying on top of her.

“Mmm?” His response muffled from his face smooshed into the pillows.

“Breathing—issue…”

“Oh, sorry!” Now in human guise, Spike rolled off her, wrapped his arm around her and gathered a clearly ravished Buffy to his side.

Buffy traced small patterns on his chest while Spike soothingly dragged his fingers along her back eliciting small shivers.

“Cold, sweetheart?” Before she could respond, Spike used his free hand and wrapped them in the silky sheet.

“Buffy, not complaining, but why did you…” Spike left the rest unsaid, knowing full-well she knew what he was asking.

She shifted slightly, folded her hands on his chest, and rested her chin on top, her gaze meeting his.

“Spike, I didn’t do any of this ‘cause I had to, I did it ‘cause I wanted to. For me, for us.”

“There’s an us now?” He raised his scarred brow in question.

“Well—um, if you want—not trying to tell you what to do…” Buffy rambled, which felt even more awkward with the nakedness.

“First, you bossy bint, you’re always telling me what to do, so don’t try stopping now.” This earned him a light swat to the chest and a playfully indignant “Hey!” before he continued, “Second, as I said before, ‘m yours if you’ll have me. Hell, I don’t rightly remember anything else that I ever wanted more than for there to be an us.”

Buffy’s pout melted into a smile, and Spike leaned forward intending to press a kiss to her lips. He stopped mid-descent when she yawned.

“Sleep now, kitten. I have many plans involving you and me, so you need rest.”

“Are these naked plans?” Buffy laid her cheek on his chest, her voice sleepily slurring.

“You know me too well. Now sleep.” Spike pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“But I’m not tired, I’m…”

The last of her words drifted off as sleep took her over. Spike soon followed her into a peaceful slumber.




End Notes:
Just take a moment, just a little one, to let me know whatcha thought!
Chapter 17 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
*small wave* Hello gentle viewers. Coming off a very disappointing evening (Patriots loosing in the Superbowl), I'm looking to you guys to put the smile back on my face.
Big thanks to my amazing betas: Sanityfair and Diebirchen. You ladies are the best!
It was simply amazing. After Spike woke from a quick catnap, he spent the rest of the night watching Buffy while she slept. He just couldn’t help himself; everything about her, even in sleep, fascinated him. Something as simple as the way she snuggled her cheek against his pillow, to how the corners of her lips curled up in a hint of a smile when he tightened his arm around her, to the soft moan escaping her full lips when he drew her body closer to his, captivated him.

He wanted to memorize every moment spent with this incredible woman who gave a man condemned to Hell this small glimpse of Heaven.

Never before in all his years had a woman evoked such passion within him as did this little spitfire now curled up in his arms. Not even Drusilla.

It was true, Drusilla had introduced him to a brand new world, and there were no limits to where or how high his ripe, wicked plum had taken him. She’d shown him the way, and he’d jumped right into the thick of it, drunk his fill, and relished every bloody moment, as they left mile-wide trails of blood and destruction in their wakes.

Even though Dru had given him many things, there was one he craved above all others that she continually denied him, herself entirely. It had only been the two of them for a better part of a century, but he always felt the shadow of the one she “truly desired” looming over them.

Spike tried time and time again to win over her heart, but he knew now it was never meant to be. She only considered him a stand-in, a substitute until her “daddy” came back.

Then when he finally did, Dru immediately replaced Spike with Angelus without batting an eye, and nothing Spike had done or accomplished mattered. He didn’t matter.

One moment he was the master of his domain and all those in it. The next she cast him aside like an unwanted doll, to lay among the remains of broken porcelain faces and limbs and tattered clothes.

He hadn’t felt that alone and shunned since he was human. The only difference now was the scene of his degradation—a burned out factory, not a stuffy Victorian gathering.

This was why it infuriated him that Buffy had met William. He believed, like the other women before her, she’d use the pitiful man he once was as another weapon in her arsenal against him. This alone had the ability to pierce him deeper than any stake she could wield.

However, to his absolute amazement, she didn’t. Actually, she had cared for William and tended to him both mind and body. She made him feel for the first time that he was a man of worth.

What’s more, she treated the demon with equal kindness. Yeah, the demon’s actions the first night really seemed to put a twist in her knickers, but he now knew it was more from her own unexpected pleasure than utter repulsion.

When he actually thought about it, Buffy’s reactions to the demon—not only her not staking him outright that first night, but her reaction to solider boy’s gratefully piss-poor shot, and then how she acted the night of the demon’s capture—really threw him for a loop.

During the short time under Toth’s spell, he earned something he’d never dreamed of receiving—her trust. He knew Buffy didn’t give this freely, but once she did, she was fiercely loyal. Just as he was.

He knew Buffy could’ve let William waste away or even staked the demon, getting rid of him once and for all, but she didn’t. She claimed it was only because it was the “right thing” to do. He might’ve believed that then, but now he knew it was more than that, so much more.

Despite their time together last night, he knew Buffy didn’t love him. Even though it wasn’t love, there was some small part of her that cared for him. That fact alone made his long undead heart sing.

In such a short period of time, this tiny woman had wormed her way into his heart as well. He didn’t love her, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d be falling hard. Damn the consequences.

Spike broke away from his racing thoughts by the slightest increase in Buffy’s heartbeat and breathing, making him aware she was finally awakening. Immediately, he snapped his eyes closed, feigning sleep.

Yeah, it was sorta childish not facing her and playing possum, but he wanted to see what she would do. Since his luck was for shite, he wagered Buffy would just stake his undead arse and be done with him. Even in the best scenario he could think of—she’d kick him in the head, threaten to stake him, and run out with her virtue a-flutterin’.

Despite these possible outcomes, he still desperately wanted to know what she thought and felt. He knew he should face his fears head-on, but something deep inside told him to let her lead. So now he just had to be patient, wait, and see.

Yeah, a lot easier said than done.





It was simply amazing. Buffy had never been anywhere that felt as if the entire outside world had disappeared. Somewhere the trials and tribulations of her calling and everyday life simply faded away. Surprisingly, she found such a place in the subterranean bowels of a crypt—with Spike.

Yeah, this was the same Spike who was once her sworn enemy, but now was pressed intimately against her with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist and his unneeded breath steadily tickling her bare skin.

It was hard to believe it was only a week ago that she considered Spike nothing more than a pest, a constant thorn in her side that she barely tolerated. Now, he was sharing his bed, and she a piece of her heart.

At this moment, that was all she could give him. Maybe in time it could be more, but for now hopefully it was enough.

Buffy knew she’d never been really lucky in love. It always seemed one way or another that the men she chose only wanted “parts” of her.

With Angel, he claimed he wanted her and admired her strength, but at every twist and turn he tried to shelter her and treat her like a child. True, she was only a teenager at the time, but being chosen to save the world on a daily basis really made her grow up quickly.

It wasn’t only world save-age that thrust her into grown-up-dom. It was also her first major relationship—one that was riddled with Angel’s cryptic messages, broody silence, and let’s not forget the whole, “It was my first time and my boyfriend went evil,” fiasco—that gave her a two-handed shove into adulthood.

So all in all, her first real taste of big-girl relationships, to put it bluntly, sucked big time.

With Parker, well, he just wanted to put another notch in his bedpost. Enough said.

Then Riley treated her kinda like Angel had. He claimed he wanted the whole package, but when it came time to open the Buffy-shaped box, he dug through the contents, and after he found the parts he liked, he sealed the rest up with lots of packing tape and pushed it out of sight.

Looking back, she should’ve known their relationship was doomed from the start. Especially since in the beginning both of them were not exactly truthful, that alone didn’t really give them a sturdy foundation upon which to build.

Plus, with their relationship coming on the heels of her magically induced engagement to the same man now purring in her ear like a content kitty—a sleek, dangerous, sexy-as-all-hell kitty—Riley never really stood a chance.

Not that she would ever admit it out loud, ‘cause Spike didn’t need a bigger ego than he already had, but when it came down to it, “Lips of Spike” were definitely a tough act to follow.

So yeah, she hadn’t been the luckiest with guys in the past, but did that mean future guys, or more specifically a future vamp, couldn’t be different?

True, technically she was “sleeping with the enemy,” but even with all the odds stacked against their being together, why did everything seem almost perfect just the way they were right now?

She knew perfection wasn’t exactly perfect, but nothing truly was.

Like now, there were dozens of reasons why she should be jumping out of this bed, finding her clothes, threatening Spike with staking if he told anyone, and running as fast as she could out of here. Yet even with all of these reasons buzzing in her head, none of them really mattered.

All that mattered now was that she felt safe and cherished in the arms of someone she cared for.

She knew her friends would have a cow if they found out—which might be literally, what with being on the Hellmouth and all. But really, who were they to tell her where she could find happiness? Wasn’t that for her to decide?

She’d admit, maybe it was kinda messed up the whole one-minute she and Spike were sworn enemies, and the next they were getting all groiny.

Also it was true, from the outside looking in, their being together seemed really out of the blue. But if someone looked hard enough, they would see this had been years in the making.

In the beginning, she and Spike were enemies in every true sense of the word. However, over time he seemed to wear her down, like steady drops of water striking a rock. At first the water doesn’t leave a mark, but eventually it forms an indentation, making an ever-lasting impression.

Over the years, his persistence and determination created a big ol’ hole in her rock-like exterior. Then he crawled inside, settled in, and made himself at home.

She knew Spike was here to stay. Not too long ago this notion bugged her to no end. Now she relied on it, and in fact, it comforted her.

Maybe this thing with Spike was her reward, a small slice of happiness in her otherwise crazy, mixed-up life. As the Slayer, she was destined to save the world and all those in it. Yet in all that time she never really asked for anything in return.

Maybe this selflessness was the reason why the Powers that Be gave her this chance at happiness. Or who knows, maybe it was just fate. Either way, she wasn’t going to let this pass her by. She was going to grab it with both hands, hold on tight, and let it take her where it may.

Now the biggest question was--Does Spike feel the same way?
End Notes:
Reviews help with the frowns :(
Chapter 18 by Behind Blue Eyes
Author's Notes:
*small wave* Hello all! Remember me? Yes, I apologize immensely for not getting this out sooner. With RL being hectic and my muse ever elusive, didn't really help matters at all. This is the final chapter, but before you read on I would like to take a moment to thank everyone who followed this story. I hope it was as enjoyable to read as it was to write. All the love in the world to my amazing betas, Sanityfair and Diebirchen. You ladies are the best. Now without further ado--
Spike could tell by the subtle increase in Buffy’s heartbeat and breathing that she’d been awake for at least twenty minutes, even though she had yet to move. It was this prolonged stillness that fed his ever-rising insecurities and made him incredibly antsy.

He’d be the first to admit, he was never one for patience.

Even living in the Victorian era, a time that epitomized this virtue, there were more instances than he could count when he’d fallen victim to the headmaster’s cane for fidgeting during a lesson. Not to mention the dozens of times as an adult his mum chastised him for raking his fingers through his hair or tugging at his collar during a torturously long sermon or a formal social gathering.

Then when he became a vampire, his patience went from waning to nil.

Right now, in spite of his nature to be in constant motion, he lay still as the dead, or undead in his case, and waited. Even when her breath hitched several times as if she was preparing to speak, he remained stock-still.

Ironically, it was as he felt himself drifting off to sleep when she decided to make a move. One moment she was in his arms, the next he was on his back, and she astride his hips. Even though his instincts screamed for him to open his eyes and defend himself in this exposed position, he stayed motionless.

The truth of the matter was he couldn’t bear witnessing the hatred and disgust in her eyes before she turned him to dust. He was relying on his memory of the expression of sheer contentment she wore last night, in order to help him through his long-overdue penance in Hell.

Then he felt it, something pressing against the area right over his vulnerable heart. However, it wasn’t the sharp tip of wood he had expected, but soft, pliant lips bestowing a lingering opened-mouth kiss.

Once the initial shock wore off, Spike groaned his approval, as his chest arched seeking more of her tender touch. After several more blissful kisses, she finally broke away, but not far enough to stop her hot breath from fanning across his chest. He opened his eyes and focused on the beautiful woman above him.

“Buffy—” Before Spike could continue she pressed a finger gingerly against his lips silencing him.

“The whole time I’ve been lying here, I thought about all the reasons why I shouldn’t do this. And let’s just say there were a lot—” Spike readied to interject, but Buffy’s firm gazed silenced him. “And my head still kinda feels like a piñata on Cinco de Mayo. But even with all the festive pounding, the only thing that makes it all worthwhile—is you. Yeah, you and me together seems kinda weird. Like really, really weird. But what would my life on the Hellmouth be if there wasn’t any weirdness?”

“What are you saying exactly, luv?” Spike hated his evident insecurity, but he needed to know.

“Well, I thought maybe—you know—we could give this a chance. That’s if you—”

Spike cut off Buffy’s words by pulling her into an intense kiss that served as his answer. When he finally broke away, he knew he was wearing the biggest shit-eating grin ever, but he didn’t care. This amazing woman wanted him. She. Wanted. Him.

“So is that a yes?” Buffy smiled coyly.

Spike growled playfully, wrapping his arms around her, rolling them, and answering her between fleeting kisses pressed to every inch of skin he could reach.

“Yeah—” kiss “You silly—” kiss “Beautiful—” kiss “Woman—” kiss “I’ve said this before—” kiss “I want you—” kiss “All of you.” kiss

After growling his last words, he extended their kiss until he knew breathing had become an issue for her. While she gasped for air, his focus moved to the lengthy expanse of her throat, placing lavish kisses and nips until he reached the dual marks marring her flesh. His marks.

He tentatively ran the tip of his tongue over the puckered skin. Her back arched as she tunneled her fingers in his hair and released a heady moan. Her reactions spurred Spike to lave the area further with long sweeping laps.

Even though last night was only their first time together, he’d already memorized how her body spoke to him. She might not easily relay her feelings, well those other than frustration or anger, but her body screamed what it craved to all those that took the time to listen, and Spike heard it loud and clear.

Right now she needed him to draw out the climax that had her hovering on the brink. Spike slid off to her side, his mouth never leaving her neck while his hand skillfully descended her body until he’d reached her very core.

Buffy writhed under his expert touch as her legs instinctually parted, granting him access. Spike’s mind was awhirl with every gasped and muttered word of encouragement as he caressed her silky folds.

While his fingers explored further, her hips gyrated in tandem with his strokes. Even with her slickness coating each fingertip, he knew she needed more.

Spike released her throat and moved his mouth to hover near the shell of her ear, as he slid two deft fingers inside her heat, and his thumb drew lazy circles against her clit.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. I’ve got you.”

Almost on cue, Buffy bucked once more and drenched his hand with her spendings, her loud cries of completion echoing in his ear. Spike slowly pumped his fingers several more times, gradually bringing her down from her climax.

Gently, he removed his hand and drank in this beautifully sated woman. He basked in the thought of knowing he was the one who placed the soft smile touching her lips, the light sheen of sweat dusting her fully relaxed body, and the steady hums of contentment rumbling deeply within her throat.

“It’s rude to stare.” Buffy’s slightly cracking voice broke him from his inner musings.

“Not staring—admiring, totally different vibe, luv.” Spike trailed his dampened fingertips along her midline, from throat to mound. Buffy gasped, arching into his touch.

“Mmm—a girl can definitely get used to this.”

“Good, ‘cause my girl will be on the receiving end of this every moment of every day, if it’s up to me.”

Spike leaned forward and encompassed her nipple with his lips, ending the contact with his blunt teeth tugging teasingly at the sensitive tip.

“Ah—”

Buffy cried out in pleasure, her hand returning to his head, guiding him back. Obliging to her silent request, he returned to tease and nip at her breast before ascending the tip of his tongue toward her lips. When he reached his destination, she instinctually opened her mouth, meeting him in a heated kiss.

Without warning, Buffy rolled them, continuing their kiss until she pulled away, gasping for air. She then sat up, straddling his lap and splaying her hands across his chest.

“We need to stop if we’re going to get anything done today.” Buffy’s cheeks were flushed, her breath steady pants.

“Why do we need to do anything besides this?” Spike palmed her breasts as he raised his hips, pressing his erection into her heat.

Buffy’s eyes rolled and her mouth dropped open slightly, appearing easily engulfed by pleasure. Then with a shake of her head, her gaze focused, and she swatted at his chest before sliding from his lap, settling next to him. She laid her upper body flush against his midsection, and her arms folded under her chin with her eyes focusing on him.

“You know you’re totally evil. We have lots to do like—well, there’s—Spike, I can’t think with your hand on my ass.” Buffy eyed him, attempting seriousness, but the smile hiding just under the surface, told him otherwise.

“It’s a fine arse, luv. I just can’t help myself.” Spike gave the fleshy globe a playful squeeze then reluctantly moved his hand to the swell of her back.

“Better?” Spike’s bottom lip turned down into a pout, as he attempted to lay the guilties on good and thick.

“No, but it will have to do.” Buffy matched his pout with a winner of her own.

The pair lay in comfortable silence until Buffy’s voice broke through the quiet.

“Spike, can I ask you something, well some things?”

Her index finger was drawing lazy patterns on his chest, causing his cock to bob in time with her movements, but he fought past the lust and focused on her words.

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Well, the demon—How did he—”

“Feed?” Buffy’s nod encouraged him to continue, “Well, I’m not goin’ to lie, I tried dining on the locals, but after several shocks to the ol’ noggin, my demon finally got the hint. So let’s just say anything with warm blood on tap was game.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’d eaten some little kid’s pet, Spike.”

“Don’t worry. Fido was safe. Most people tend to not let them stray too far from home. Cats on the other hand—” Spike teasingly licked his lips.

“You ate cats?” Buffy’s face scrunched in telltale disgust.

“Well, yeah, couldn’t rightly go to the local butchers for a bag of Wilbur, could I? And if you must know, those furry-four legged buggers are far harder to catch than humans. That’s for damn sure. Hell, the night Captain Cardboard shot me, I was outsmarted by Morris!”

“Eww—but cats?”

“Well, at least I wasn’t rubbing rat filth all over my face like Peaches, and besides that wasn’t the first time I‘ve eaten pussy.”

“You’re such a pig!” Buffy stifled her giggle and halfheartedly swatted at his chest.

“I am, but that’s one of the things you love ‘bout me, isn’t it?”

“No—” Despite her denial, her coquettish grin betrayed her.

“No is it? Fine, maybe I should find another pussy that needs tendin’ to then.”

Spike started to pull away, but Buffy seemed like she wasn’t having any of it. She skillfully maneuvered from his embrace and straddled his lap, her hands wrapped around his wrists, which she’d now pinned to the bed.

She kissed him in such a way that if he required breath, he’d sure as hell be breathless. Needless to say, he still was panting when she finally pulled away. Then, almost in an instant, her eyes darkened with uncertainty as she released his wrists and sat up straight.

“So I have another question.”

“’kay”

“Not that I’m regretting it, but um, how do you think you were able to, you know, being chipped an’ all, bite me?” Buffy appeared almost shy, a rosy tint streaking her cheeks and her gaze lowering to his chest.

Spike tenderly cupped her chin in order to draw her eyes back to him.

“I don’t rightly know. Maybe it was ‘cause the chip only fires when I’m trying to hurt someone. And believe me, kitten. That bite was purely for pleasure.” Spike tucked his tongue behind his teeth, giving her a wolfish grin.

Bloody adorable.

Spike watched the pinkish hue dusting her cheeks brighten into a full-blown red that splashed across her throat and chest. Despite all they had done and all they would hopefully be doing in the near future, she still turned bashful when things became honest.

Well, not for long, if I have my way.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her as he captured her lips in a tender, heated kiss. Instantly she responded, her body melting into his while their tongues danced. All too soon she placed her palms on his chest and gently pushed him back down onto the mattress.

“You’re being all Mr. Distracto again.”

“So says the breathtaking naked beauty sitting on my lap with her quim rubbing enticingly against my cock.” To add to his words, Spike raised his hips, pressing himself against her.

Even with her responsive moan, he could tell she was fighting not to succumb to his attempts until she finished playing twenty questions, so he relented. However, he couldn’t bear not touching her. He placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs brushing tender paths across her silky skin.

“I know you have more questions, sweetheart. So ask away, ‘cause I have lots of tasty plans for you before I let you outta this bed.”

Her warm, appreciative smile told him he made the right decision. He wanted her to give herself completely to him and if her mind was occupied, that wouldn’t happen.

“Okay, so how weird was it seeing yourself as a vampire? And don’t try and deny it wasn’t. I saw how your William side was all touchy-feely with your vamp side. And let’s just say it looked like it was going to get x-rated there for a minute.”

“So you enjoyed watching me touch myself, did you?” Spike raised his scarred brow as he watched her blush returning in full force. “You’re turning such a lovely shade of crimson, luv.” Spike tantalizingly trailed his fingertips from her reddened cheek, down the side of her throat, stopping at the top of her one breast. He lingered there for a moment before his hand returned to her hip.

“Well, first off, William never saw a vampire before. So this was all new to him. Then add to that, it was his face but not. It was so, I guess you could say, real. The only other way to see yourself in this way is a reflection and since I’m fresh outta those— so yeah, as you put it, it was weird. But even with the weirdness, I already knew I was a handsome bloke regardless, man or beast.”

“Handsome and oh so modest too. However do you cope?” Buffy accentuated her sarcasm with a classic eye roll.

“It’s tough, but I manage.” Spike’s response with accompanied smirk triggered her to snort and shake her head.

“Did it hurt when your soul came back? I remember during the whole Acathla thing—”

“Buffy, make no mistake, just ‘cause I was human for a time there, I never got back my soul.”

Spike could see the clear confusion and doubt filling her eyes. He hoped though he didn’t get back his soul, even for a short period of time, it hadn’t changed her thoughts about him and them being together.

“Then how was your William side all sweet, and polite, and I don’t know, William-ish?”

Spike took a moment to think over her question. He knew that this answer was unlife altering. Following a deep, steadying breath he went for broke.

“A soul doesn’t dictate one’s actions or show them right from wrong. It only makes one feel guilty about the wrong. Well, guilt for those who chose to listen or care. A soul doesn’t make the person.”

Spike held his unneeded breath anticipating her response. He knew it was this one moment that could make or break their relationship. Especially since Buffy seemed to bank everything on the concept of a soul.

A soul was how she rationalized putting her trust in Angel, both before and after Angelus. A soul was how she was able to patrol night after night, ridding the Hellmouth of vamps and demons alike. It was their lack of that made her slaying them justified.

Now that he’d possibly dismantled her beliefs in mere sentences, would she accept him, even without one?

Then the moment came, the one that changed their relationship forever. Buffy tenderly placed her palm to his cheek and leaned forward to capture his lips. Even though the kiss was fleetingly chaste, the passion behind it nearly brought him to tears. Then her words did just that.

“You’re right. The soul doesn’t make the man. Even without one I’ve seen time and time again when you’ve cared about the difference between right and wrong, and had chosen to listen.”

Spike released the breath he’d been holding and pulled her into a tight embrace, holding onto this amazing woman with all his might. After several blissful moments, he released her enough to cradle her cheeks to draw her green eyes, which shone with unadulterated affection and acceptance.

“Buffy. My beautiful, beautiful, Buffy. In over one hundred twenty years as a vampire and the twenty-five years as a human before that, I’ve never truly felt at peace in this world. But here in your arms, I finally do. I know it won’t be easy for me. I’m bound to bollocks it up now and again. But I hope you’ll help me along the way.”

“No, we’ll help each other.”

It was at that moment, no other words were needed. When their lips met in a sweet kiss, the rest of the world fell away. Even though the words remained unspoken, they both knew it wasn’t going to be easy for either of them. However, they also knew, they could accomplish anything together.

End Notes:
Please take a brief moment to let me know what you thought about this chapter, the story in general, or your opinions about Spike being sexy and we know it...whatever! Oh, I've been working on my next fic:

A Link is Forged

In Season Three’s episode “Lover’s Walk,” Buffy and Spike fall victim to a binding spell that was accidentally triggered during the fight at the Magic Box.

How will two sworn enemies react when their utmost desire to bring about the other’s death is now replaced with bizarre primal urges and lusty cravings? Then add a dash of telepathy, Angel as The Brooding Wonder, the Scoobies, and Giles’ frequent spectacle cleaning, and you have the makings of one helluva ride. Written for VioletRoze88’s challenge at EF, of the same title.


Will be posting this soon! Hopefully, I'll see you then!
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