Fred's eyes flicked over to the blond vampire in her office, staring out of the window at the L.A. scenery before him. He'd developed a routine of haunting everyone on the team, but he seemed to spend most of his time with her. She supposed it was because she tolerated him more than the others, and out of the whole group, she seemed to be the only one attempting to help him. She was sure the others would be more involved if Spike told them what was happening to him every time he vanished, but he'd asked her to keep it a secret, so she would.

It was hard to believe the famous Spike was currently a spirit wandering the corridors of Wolfram and Hart. He seemed so out of place, huddled in that black leather duster with nothing to do but follow people around and annoy Angel. They really didn't like each other, and yet they'd spent years together ravaging Europe as a family. Surely now that Spike had a soul and become a champion they could get along? They had a lot in common, but Angel didn't seem too keen on having Spike around. Heck, he didn't even tell them he had soul or saved the world. Wes had been the only one even aware that the vamp had been an ally of Buffy's at all. And that explained it, didn't it? Who knew the Slayer would end up dating another vampire? And Spike of all people. That had to be why Angel hated him so much.

"Say, Spike?" Fred asked, wanting to make conversation with the unusually quiet vamp.

"Yeah, luv?"

"How did it happen? I mean, who cursed you?"

He turned around to face her, his head tilted and a frown on his face.

"Come again?" He asked.

"Your soul. Who cursed you with it? And why? Did they—did the Scoobies—?"

He snorted, cutting her off, and turned back to the window.

"Yeah right. That lot were gonna give me a soul. Please. Lucky they didn't stake me. I got it myself."

There was silence in the room for a moment and he turned to look at her. Fred was frowning, staring at him.

"You? You got your soul back yourself? You cursed yourself with—?"

"I didn't bloody curse myself you nit. Went and saw a demon 'bout it. Wanted to give her what...she deserved. Did a bad thing and I just—" He turned back to the window, shaking his head.

"You found a demon to put your soul back? You were never cursed with it?"

"Just forget it, all right? Doesn't bloody matter how I got it, doesn't seem to matter much at all since I don't have a body. How's that going by the way? Any—" He turned around, but the room was empty, the door swinging shut behind Fred's swift exit. "Progress?" He finished, sighing.

Angel took a large gulp of his blood and leaned back in his chair. He'd been in meetings all day, and this was the first opportunity he'd had to relax. He'd only just closed his eyes, savouring the flavour of the blood when the door opened and closed loudly, and footsteps approached his desk. He knew who it was even before he opened his eyes.

"Something you wanted, Fred?" He asked tiredly.

"Spike wasn't cursed," she said, sounding miffed.

He looked up at her, brow furrowing. Okay, she was mad at him for some reason. Apparently because Spike wasn't cursed? Was he supposed to have cursed Spike in some way?

"What?" he asked.

"Spike wasn't cursed," she repeated.

Gunn and Wes walked into the room just then, arguing about something, but stopped when they saw Fred staring Angel down.

"Is something the matter?" Wesley asked.

Fred turned around to face them.

"Spike was never cursed." She looked accusingly at Angel.

He looked back at the two men, pleading for help with his eyes. They looked just as confused as he felt.

"So, Angel was supposed to curse Spike? Or is it this whole non-corporeal thing? Did you think it was a curse? Cause I gotta say, I think it was the burning up in the Hellmouth and dying that did that." Gunn offered, raising an eyebrow.

Fred frowned at him.

"What? No. He wasn't cursed with a soul." She turned back to Angel, pointing a dainty finger at him. "You never told us he wasn't cursed with a soul."

"Didn't we clear this up in the Lab? He has a soul Fred. Unfortunately. Without one, he probably wouldn't be a ghost right now." Angel said.

"I know he has a soul, but he wasn't cursed with it. He found a demon and got his soul back. You never told us."

Angel blinked. He looked at Gunn and Wesley who's eyes widened, and then turned to him, puzzled. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

"Hey, I didn't know anything about how he got a soul. I just went to Sunnydale, gave Buffy the amulet, sensed Spike around, and she told me he was helping her, that he had a soul now. That's all, I swear. No details."

"Really? Because you weren't very forthcoming with the info that he even had a soul or that he helped save the world when he first showed up either." Fred pointed out, crossing her arms.

"I promise you, I didn't know. I never heard of a demon handing out souls anyway. Are you sure he was telling you the truth? He's a natural born liar you know, and a bragger."

"I believe him. He did it for—He got his soul back himself. This doesn't sound like the Spike I've heard about. He's changed. We should be helping him become corporeal again. I'm doing everything I can, and it seems like you guys aren't even trying."

Angel was staring down at his desk. He knew what Fred had been about to say. Spike did it for her. He got his soul back for Buffy. Buffy loved Angel who had a soul, but she didn't love Spike, so he went and got himself that missing piece, so he could be what she wanted. "He is in my heart." Now, Angel had an idea why.

Wesley must have noticed that Angel had gone into brooding mode, as he turned Fred's attention towards him instead.

"Fred, did he mention anything about this demon? If it has the power to grant souls, it could be worth looking into. I'd like to see if it's different to being cursed with one or if there are similar effects." Wes asked.

"He didn't want to talk about it. He's more concerned with getting his body back like we all should be."

"I don't see why getting Bleach Boy's body back should be top priority just because he wasn't cursed with a soul. Stare me down all you want Fred, it doesn't change the fact that if, and it's a pretty big if, we manage to re-corporealize Spike, he's probably just gonna run off on us anyway. So I'm not thinking it'll help us either way." Gunn put in.

It matters because he's changed. He got his soul back himself which makes him one of the good guys. Even if he does leave, he's not evil anymore. Spike saved the world. He has to be here for a reason, and not just so he can die again." Fred argued.

"Yeah, had enough of that. Dying ain't exactly fun." Spike walked through the wall into the office, and all eyes turned to him. "So this is where you're all hiding then. Trying to rally the troops, luv? Not doing a real good job from the looks of it."

Angel stared at the constant thorn in his side. As usual, the recurring emotions of hate, disappointment, and disgust ran through him, mixed with familiarity, a reluctant sense of kinship, and regret. He needed Spike gone. Having him around was a constant reminder of his past, and lately, of Buffy. He still couldn't comprehend how the irritating idiot had managed to worm his way into Buffy's inner circle, soul-getting aside.

"You want to explain how exactly a demon gave you your soul back? Last I heard they weren't exactly in the soul having business." Angel said, tilting his chair to face Spike.

Spike eyed the older vamp sitting in his big-boy chair and narrowed his eyes. He was willing to bet his ghosty un-life Angel wasn't asking for his benefit. More like the great poof wanted to know for his own purposes.

"Yes, Spike. I've never heard of a demon like that. Could you, perhaps, elaborate?" Wes asked eagerly.

Spike sighed and shoved his hands further into his duster pockets.

"You sodding watchers are all the same. There isn't any such thing as a demon who grants souls."

"But you said—" Fred's voice started, while Angel rolled his eyes, barely hiding a smug smile.

"I told you he likes to brag."

"I'm not bragging, Gramps. I know what I said, an' if you let me finish I'll explain. The demon doesn't grant souls, more like wishes, or your heart's desire, or whatever." Spike waved a hand as though he couldn't really care about the details.

"A demon who grants wishes? He come popping out of a magic lamp?" Gunn asked skeptically.

Spike gave him a withering stare. God he wanted out of this place. Hell, he wanted out of L.A. all together.

"A cave in Africa, actually. The big guy here should have heard about him." Spike gestured to Angel. "Rumored to give you anything you want, if you complete the demon trials of course."

Comprehension dawned on Angel at the mention of Africa. He had heard about that demon, an extremely powerful demon. He'd thought it was just another rumor, a myth. Then again, Spike had a nasty habit of searching for rumors and finding out they were true, like the Gem of Amarra for example.

"So why the soul? Why not just get the chip removed? I'd imagine that's what you would've wanted most." Angel asked, leaning further back in his chair.

Gunn and Fred shared puzzled looks, and glanced at Wes who just shook his head.

"None of your bloody business, mate. Point is, I got my soul back. Me, no one else. That's the rub isn' it? That's why everyone's so eager to hear the tale of Spike's soul. You think you can get one that won't disappear every time you get a happy." Spike pointed a finger at Angel. "Well, sorry folks. Angel here's already got his soul, an' the only way he's getting a permanent one is by goin' an' facing the demon trials as Angelus to prove his worth. The trials aren't exactly a walk in the park, and I don't know if you remember, but Angelus doesn't strike me as someone who wants his soul back." Spike glared at his grand-sire, who was staring daggers back at him in return.

Lorne walked in right at that moment and stopped in his tracks when he saw the two vampires seething at each other while everyone else stood around looking somber.

"Hey, who forgot to invite the Empath demon to the party? Heh. Um, did I miss something here or what's got you all so glum?"

"Nothing important. It was just about Spike. You have something you wanted to discuss or can I have my office back to myself now?" Angel asked through gritted teeth, staring pointedly at Spike.

"Well, uh—" Lorne began.

He was interrupted by Harmony walking in, oblivious to the tension in the room.
"Angel, phone call for you on line three."

Angel raised an eyebrow at his secretary. What had he done to deserve having such a ditz as an employee? Well, the mass murdering thing might have had a little something to do with it...

"Is there some reason you had to come in here to tell me that? They're called intercoms Harmony, and I'm kinda busy at the moment, in case you hadn't noticed." Angel gestured around the room at the group of people gathered in his office.

"Well yeah, but I figured you'd want to be told in person since it's, you know, urgent, as in list of priority people urgent?" She gave him a look that he could only guess was supposed to mean something to him, but he was drawing a blank.

"Oh for Pete's sake! You know? Urgent, urgent? People who call and should get put through straight away urgent? Remember?"

"Uh—" Angel suddenly realized who she was referring to, straightened up in his chair and took a look at all of the people gathered in his office.

There was no way he could take the call with all of them here, especially in front of one non-person in particular. To make matters worse, his team were now giving him suspicious looks, wondering who was on the phone.

"Can't you take a message?" he tried.

Harmony folded her arms and gave him her best "Are you crazy?" look. There was no way the person on the phone was going to settle for anything less than talking directly to Angel. Make that a double "No" judging from Harmony's facial expression. Seeing no other option, Angel was forced to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"I cannot believe you! Shouldn't your stalking days be over? How could you do that? How long has this been going on? I could stake your undead ass for this you know." The voice at the other end of the phone raged at him.

Everyone was staring at him, the loud noise that was the voice of a very pissed off woman reaching their ears. Spike went completely stiff, frozen in place, his eyes a whirl of emotion. Angel watched his reaction and closed his eyes.

"Answer me damn it! How long have you been having me followed? I swear if that guy was anything less than human he'd be dead by now. As it is he's in the hospital. Don't you even dare think of setting another spy on me again, you or your evil law firm!"

Spike swallowed hard. He wanted to talk to her so badly, but he couldn't. Not like this. He'd just died for her, gone out saving the world, and now he was just a ghost slipping further and further into hell. It was so good just hearing her voice, but he couldn't take it any longer. He wasn't ready for this, not when he might disappear again at any moment. He fought every urge in his transparent body telling him to go for the phone, and fled, straight through the wall and anyone in his way.

"Spike!" Fred called after him.

"Fred!" Angel shouted, but it was too late.

The voice on the other end of the line had gone completely quiet, cut off in the middle of another threat. For a moment all he could hear was silence before a harsh breath was drawn.

"Angel. What...what was that?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled at his hair with one hand.

"Nothing."

It wouldn't work and he knew it. Everyone was eyeing him with interest now. They'd been startled when he'd shouted at Fred, but judging by the looks on their faces, they were putting two and two together, and it was dawning on them who must be on the phone. Harmony had a sly grin on her face that clearly said "You're in the dog house now."

"Angel." The voice was lower, the anger gone, replaced by a deadly seriousness. "Is...Is Spike there? With you?"

He sighed and stared at the ceiling as he answered. He really didn't want to have this conversation.

"Not...exactly."

"Angel..." She let her warning trail off, expecting a straight answer before she got really pissed.

"Well—in a way, yes, he is, but Bu—"

The dial tone rang sharply in his ear. He pulled the phone away, and stared at it before gently and carefully placing it back down on the receiver. He looked up at the subdued group gathered in his office.

"Well, that can't be good."

Fred wandered around the offices of Wolfram and Hart searching for the platinum haired vamp. She found him in an empty office at the far end of the building in front of the window. He was hugging his duster closed around him, watching the dwindling light of the setting sun outside.

"Hey. You've been gone a while. You ran out of there pretty fast," she said, lightly.

He didn't turn around.

"Yeah… You know, every vamp is afraid of the Slayer. Built in instinct to survive tells us to keep away. Instead, I went looking for them. They were a challenge."

He paused and Fred was just about to say something when he started speaking again.

"I finally met a Slayer who terrified me, an' not because she could stake me." He shook his head. "This really is a screwed up world." He sighed, and shifted his attention to the ceiling.

"How come you didn't want to talk to her? I thought—she means so much to you. Why didn't you say anything to her?" Fred asked slowly.

His shoulders slumped, and he turned sideways to look at her, offering a small smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You mean like, hey Buffy, it's Spike. I'm not quite as dead as you thought I was, only now I'm Angel's very own personal Casper. So how've you been?" He scoffed and shook his head.

"So you don't want her to know?"

"Nah, pet. Better she remembers me as I was, unless we find some sort of cure for my little walking through walls affliction."

Fred began shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. Spike noticed, and tilted his head, suspicion flashing across his features.

"All right, out with it. What's up?"

"Umm, well you see, when you dashed off, I may have sorta shouted after you—and umm, well—she may have heard me say your name," she finished, adding a hopeful smile at the end.

Spike stared at her. She dropped the smile and replaced it with an anxious expression instead. He continued to stare before turning to face her fully.

"What?" He asked hoarsely, worry etching his face. "She heard—what—is she...What did she say? She's not coming here is she?"

"I honestly couldn't say, since once she confirmed you were here, she hung up. Angel tried calling her back, but there was no answer. If I had to take a wild guess? I'd say yeah. A girl finds out her ex—who died saving the world, isn't really dead, or deader, and instead is hanging out with her other ex? I'm thinking she's gonna be hurt, mad as hell, and on her way. Oh, and I guess you should add the fact she's a Slayer to that too."

Spike blinked, and began rapidly pacing back and forth. Fred was finding it hard to keep up with him. Her neck started to ache as she turned her head back and forth following his movements.

Spike, settle down, I'm sure it will be fine. I mean, if she's coming here it's because she cares about you, and she just found out you're alive. That means something, right? Something to look forward to, maybe?"

He let out an insane giggle and looked at her as though she'd just said something hysterical, never ceasing his pacing.

"Are you completely sack of hammers? I'm not alive. That's the whole bloody point. If she gets here, and sees me like this—or doesn't see me when I make a little trip to Hell's entrance, what do you think is gonna happen? I'm even less of a man than I was when I was soulless. I'm not real. You think any good is gonna come of her seeing me like this?"

"Spike, I really think you're over-reacting. Maybe she can help make you corporeal again. You know, get the Watchers on it. We have lots of resources, but things with Buffy's side of the battle between good and evil's been kinda sour since..." She trailed off.

"Since you started playing with the evil law firm?" Spike finished, eyebrow tilted in amusement.

"Well, yeah. But we aren't evil. We're—"

"Changing things from the inside, I know. I've had that bloody speech from Peaches, and I'm telling you now it doesn't change my opinion, no matter how many times you say it. You don't change places like this, pet. They change you. If you were able to change things from the inside, I would've had every Scoobie dead the minute I got sucked into their little group. Instead look at what happened. I'm a soddin' White Hat, soul an' all."

Fred didn't know quite what to say to that. He stopped pacing at last, which gave her some relief. She really couldn't keep up to him, and his constant fidgeting was getting to her. He wiped a hand over his face and took a deep breath. She noticed Spike breathed a lot. Angel did it occasionally, mostly to sigh dramatically or when he was exercising. Spike seemed to do it constantly, like it was as natural as, well, breathing, even though he didn't need to. It was one of the many odd things she'd come to learn about him. He let his head fall back, eyes on the ceiling again.

"Bollocks. Somehow I don't think being in the Slayer's firing line's gonna be quite so much fun this time."

"If it's any consolation, I think Angel might be in the firing line for not telling her." Fred said, trying to lighten the mood.

He looked at her and considered it. He did seem to cheer up, marginally.

"One can hope." He replied.

Angel was on edge all morning. He'd had little sleep since the phone call with Buffy. He'd spent all day yesterday worrying he'd get a visit from the Slayer, and his repeated attempts to call her back proved fruitless, but that was nothing new since he'd accepted the job at Wolfram and Hart. He'd thankfully seen little of Spike, which he was grateful for, but the way Buffy had hung up on him was still bothering him. He wasn't sure what it meant. Sadly, he had a feeling it meant she was on her way here. And if she was, it wasn't to see him, unless of course, she wanted to kick his ass like she'd threatened to on the phone. She was less than pleased with him for spying on her, he knew that. He'd only wanted to make sure she was safe. Buffy wouldn't see it that way of course, and wouldn't take kindly to the thought, even if she did. He sighed. The chances were, if she was on her way, it was because of Spike. The name was like poison in his mouth, even unspoken. Lorne entered the office and surveyed his boss.

"You look like you could use a stiff drink, Angel-cakes."

Angel just leaned back in his chair and glanced at the Empath demon, his feelings clear without ever having to sing to his friend.

"Let me guess, this is about a certain Slayer's predicted arrival right?"

"The way I look at it, this is going down one of two ways. Either she comes in here, kicks my ass and chews me out about the spy and keeping Spike's return a secret from her. Or, she focuses on him, why he didn't let her know he was back, and that he's a ghost. For once I actually hope she focuses on Spike."

Lorne moved to sit on Angel's desk and looked the vampire in the eye.

"Well I hate to say it, but there's a likely third option in which she chews out both your un-dead butts for keeping this a secret, kicks you around a bit, and gets us all working to get Spike back to the land of the solid so she can kick him around too. Whether she stakes you both or not afterwards will depend on how much frustration she's worn out by then. To be honest, you are both really frustrating."

"Thanks Lorne, that helps," Angel said, drily.

Lorne patted the vampire on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Hey, I may be the fun-loving party animal around here, but I can still be realistic."

Gunn walked into the room at a brisk pace, looking worried and headed straight for Angel's desk.

"Uh, boss, I think our guest may have just arrived downstairs, and she killed your two o' clock," he said, fiddling with his tie.

Angel stood up rapidly and glanced worriedly out into the lobby.

"Well big-guy, it's been nice knowing ya." Lorne said, rising from the desk, and also looking out at the lobby.

Wes and Fred hurried over as the three men left Angel's office to stand by Harmony's desk, and watch the elevator.

"We just heard. She's really here?" Wes asked.

They heard the ping of the elevator and the doors slid open. There was absolute silence as everyone in the lobby waited. Suddenly a large yellow demon came flying out of the open elevator to smack into a wall across the room. It fell to the floor, lifeless.

"Gerry?" A man near the prone body asked tentatively, looking down at the corpse.

The gang's attention switched from Gerry's body back to the elevator, where a very pissed off, petite, blonde woman stepped out, looking around her before her eyes settled on them. Two more people, a man and a woman, exited the elevator, also glancing around curiously, and clearly amused by the frightened looks they were getting. The gang had no time to assess the newcomers any further however, as the Slayer pointed at Angel and began stalking forward.

"You," she said, her voice low, yet deafening in the silent room.

Angel raised his hands defensively.

"Now, Buffy—" Angel began.

Wrong move.

"Don't you, 'Now, Buffy' me you—you—you ass, you!" She grabbed the front of his dress shirt, pulling him closer until they were inches apart.

Her green eyes bored into him as she stared him down.

"How dare you use your new evil friends to spy on me? How dare you sneak around behind my back? How dare you hide things from me?"

Angel gripped her hand and tried to make her let go of his shirt, but she was having none of it. Security began inching closer, but Wes signaled for them to stay back. Interfering would be in no one's best interests, especially not Angel's. She might see it as him setting his goons on her, which would be very bad right now. Knowing Buffy, she had a stake hidden somewhere on her person that she'd have drawn in seconds at the first sign of trouble. Of course, Wes didn't think she'd stake Angel, no matter how mad she might be, but they could do without losing any more employees or clients, and a volatile Slayer with a sharp piece of wood was bad news for a vampire. They couldn't risk any nasty accidents.

"Buffy, I can explain—"

"Save it, Angel. Let me guess, you were just looking out for me? It was for my own good? When are you gonna get it through your head that I can take care of myself. I don't need you watching me every second. I thought I'd made that clear already."

Angel opened his mouth again, but she used her grip on his shirt to jerk him back roughly, cutting him off.

"I'm not done. Rest assured we'll be talking about that soon enough, but first, where is he?" She demanded.

Angel was about to ask "Who?" before he thought better of it. He knew exactly who she was referring to, and nothing but a straight answer would result in painful injury. He had no clue where Spike might be hiding, but just then he caught a flash of white hair near the stairs. Keeping his eyes trained on the Brit, who was as yet blissfully unaware of what was happening below him, Angle pointed him out to Buffy. Her eyes followed his outstretched arm until she too laid eyes on the vamp. She released Angel instantly, and Gunn and Fred rushed to help him balance.

Spike was just making his way downstairs when he noticed all the people gathered around, staring at him. He frowned at them, and was about to ask what they were bloody well staring at when he saw her. He froze. She was there. She was really there. Different than when he'd last seen her, but it was her. Buffy. He opened and closed his mouth, doing a terrific impersonation of a fish. She stared at him. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and her shoulders jerked.

"Spike," she choked out.

She took two quick steps forward when a blur pushed past her, knocking her sideways and making her stumble. The blur flew straight at Spike, and he barely had time to register the not Buffy-like object hurtling up the stairs towards him with a loud, almost male sounding, "Spike!" before it dove forwards and straight through him with a whoosh, only to collapse on the steps behind him with a crash. Spike whirled around to study the groaning object, which he now saw was a young brunet man.

"Ow! What the nuggets?"

"Oh, bloody hell." Spike recognized the whiny, geeky voice instantly. "Andrew?"

The man half turned and looked up at Spike, rubbing his chin and ribs which had come into contact with the steps hard. It was definitely Andrew, only with longer, curly, brown hair instead of the short, spiky, blond look he'd had when Spike had seen him last.

"Yeah," Andrew whined, still whimpering in pain. "What happened?"

"Spike?" A female voice asked, confusedly.

Spike turned to face Buffy, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him and Andrew. She closed the distance slowly and Spike couldn't find his voice as he watched her approach, struck dumb at simply having her here in front of him. She stopped on the step below him, reached out a hand, and watched as it passed straight through him, back and forth. She stared back up at him, her eyes watery and questioning.

"Spike?" she asked again, her voice wavering slightly.

He swore he could feel his un-dead, ghostly heart breaking.

The others looked on at the tragic reunion. Angel felt sick at the sight of Buffy approaching his grand-childe, noticing the wistful expression on her face and the sadness when she couldn't touch the blond vamp. He'd winced when the boy hit the steps, and shook his head when Buffy and her companions realized the truth. Spike wasn't really back.

Wes glanced at the young woman who had remained near the elevator watching the proceedings. She was staring at Buffy and Spike, looking shocked and confused. She was tall with long, dark brown hair. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized the Slayer's sister, Dawn. He looked back up at the man who had thrown himself at Spike. He had no idea who the young man was, but he seemed to harbor some affection for the punk vampire, even if Spike was ignoring him, but then that was probably due to the Slayer's presence.

Dawn dragged her eyes away from the scene on the steps long enough to focus on Angel and his team. She marched straight towards the older vampire purposefully. She stopped directly in front of Angel.

"Hi, Dawn, long time no see." Angel said.

She jabbed a finger into his chest as she spoke. Clearly she was picking things up from her sister.

"What's going on?" She pointed up at Spike without turning around. "Why can't they touch Spike? What happened to him?"

Fred stepped forward, hoping to break the news gently, and steer the girl's attention away from Angel. Somehow, Fred didn't think he'd handle this well.

"Spike isn't entirely real. He's non-corporeal, kind of like a ghost but not. We've been trying to help bring him back—" She gave Angel a sideways glance, "but so far we got zilch. That's why they didn't tell you. Spike didn't want to let anyone know when he couldn't even touch anything. He isn't fully here after all."

Dawn took this in and looked back up at Spike and her sister. Her heart went out to them. This was definitely not the reunion she had pictured. Not even the violent one, where Buffy had kicked his ass for coming back and not telling her. Heck, Dawn had been almost ready to stake him for that herself. Now it was starting to make sense. In a way she really didn't like. Couldn't they ever catch a break?

Angel decided that they'd made enough of a public display. This was a private matter, and it was time everyone understood the situation. He walked over to the stairs and addressed the two blonds.

"Buffy, if you'd like to come into my office we can all sit down and I'll explain how this happened, or at least what I know. Okay? Spike—you too." He waited.

Neither of them looked at him, keeping their eyes fixed on each other. Slowly, Buffy nodded, the only sign she'd heard Angel. She carefully turned away from Spike and headed down the steps to Angel's office, Dawn following. Spike watched her go, the rest of Angel's team heading into his office as well, before following them. Andrew hurried to his feet and rushed after Spike, casting a quick, curious glance at Angel as he passed by him. Angel scowled at him, wondering who the hell he was, and why he was here. Andrew turned away quickly and scurried into the office. Angel stepped into the office, but turned back to Harmony once inside.

"No interruptions," he told her, shutting the door while she nodded quickly.

Inside, the group gathered in the center of the room. Lorne led the Slayer and her sister to the couch and Andrew joined them. Angel leaned against his desk. Fred perched on the arm of the couch next to Buffy. The others remained standing. Spike hovered near the door, his eyes trained on Buffy. Wes broke the silence first.

"I'm afraid I don't recall ever meeting you. You are?" he asked Andrew, who was sitting next to Dawn.

"Oh, we've never met. I'm Andrew, once evil crime lord, now redeemed ally of the Slayer." Andrew answered, waving at the little group and fidgeting as they stared at him.

Dawn rolled her eyes, and Buffy smiled a little but kept her eyes on the floor. Dawn decided it was up to her to ask the questions before another uncomfortable silence overcame them.

"So explain. How come Spike's—go-through-able? He's back but not?" She gestured to the vamp in question who finally acknowledged her.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Niblet. One minute I was burning up in the Hellmouth, the next—I'm standing in this very office, surrounded by this lot. Didn't even know I was go-through-able 'til I ended up sticking half out of a desk," he answered.

Dawn nodded and chewed on her lip. Hearing his voice was something she never thought she'd get to do again, especially hearing him use the old nickname he'd had for her. Things between them hadn't been great ever since she'd found out what he'd tried to do to Buffy, but it was different in those last few days in Sunnydale. Buffy had explained how Spike knew how wrong what he'd done was, and that he was different with a soul. Dawn had to admit, it was a real shock to find out he'd gotten a soul on his own. She had also seen her sister's feelings for Spike, even if she didn't understand them. Buffy herself hadn't even understood them. He had changed, and he'd died saving the world, just when Buffy had figured out what those feelings were. Dawn realized afterwards that she missed Spike too. She'd gotten so used to having him around all the time, even if most of the time he was with Buffy, that it was strange when he was gone. It must have been much harder for Buffy.

Angel took over. He thought it was best to get it all out in the open now. What would happen after that was anyone's guess. He hadn't really expected Buffy to turn up here, despite his worries that she might. Wolfram and Hart was a place she was strongly against, so her visit had thrown him quite a bit, especially considering the circumstances for it.

"One day a package arrived here addressed to me. I opened it, and the amulet fell out, the one I gave to Buffy when I went to Sunnydale. The one Spike ended up wearing. Next thing I know, there's a smoldering dust cloud in front of me, and we're watching Spike getting put back together. He was disoriented, but as soon as he focused on me he attacked," Angel glared at Spike who gave him a withering glance back, "and ended up passing straight through me and into my desk. Fred did some tests, and all we know is that he's not corporeal, but he's not a ghost either since there's no ectoplasm, which is what should let us see him, and he radiates heat instead of absorbing it. In a nutshell, we don't know what he is."

They heard a snort of amusement, and all eyes turned to the Slayer, who was covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes shining a little as she looked around at everyone. She lowered her hand and bit her lip, trying not to smile.

"I'm sorry it's just—that's nothing new. Spike's never been normal, even by abnormal standards. Even as a ghost he has to be different. Radiating heat, huh?" She coughed a little to smother a giggle, trying to regain her composure. "You're so weird," she said to Spike.

Spike was gob-smacked. He just stared at her as if she'd gone completely bonkers. So did everyone else. She was laughing about this?

She lowered her head, covering her face and rubbing at her eyes. Dawn noticed a significant change in her sister and stood up.

"I think it's time we called this a day. We had a long flight and I think we could all use the rest."

"You can stay here if you like. We have apartments upstairs. I can have your things delivered within the hour." Angel said, standing up straight.

"I don't know. We have a hotel booked..." Dawn trailed off, frowning a little as she glanced to her sister for confirmation.

"It's okay. I'm tired, and we can rest here tonight. I don't know if I want to stay here for the duration of our trip, but I think it's okay for one night," Buffy said tiredly.

"Great. Fred, can you show them their rooms?"

"Absolutely, right this way." Fred got up and waited for the trio to follow her out.

Spike watched them leave. Buffy refused to look at him, keeping her head down. Dawn gave him a weak smile. Andrew was almost dancing in place as he paused next to Spike.

"Like Patrick Swayze, only without Whoopie Goldberg as an interpreter," he said, staring at Spike in that nerdy fanboy way.

Spike stared at him, turned and walked in the opposite direction straight through a wall. Andrew sighed and hurried off after Buffy, Dawn, and Fred. The others remained in the office, this time sitting down in the available couches and chairs, Angel sitting behind his desk.

"So now what?" Gunn asked.

No one had an answer.

Spike had tried. He'd really, really tried…but it was no use. He'd almost made it through the entire night before going to her. He just had to see her again, had to take her in. So here he was, standing at the foot of her bed while she slept. He knew he shouldn't be there, but he couldn't tear himself away. Spike had gotten used to haunting Angel and his team. Didn't it make sense for him to be here with the one person he'd haunted in life?

He studied her carefully. Buffy was curled up on her side, a slight frown on her face as she slept, and not entirely peaceful by the looks of it. She was thin, thinner than he'd ever seen her, and that was saying something. She looked exhausted, even though she was fast asleep. That was to be expected though, wasn't it? She had an army of Slayers to train, had a whole new base to set up since leaving the giant hole in the ground that used to be Sunnydale, care of yours truly.

He moved a little closer. She shifted a bit in her sleep, and he paused, but she didn't wake up. She'd colored her hair again. It had been light blonde the last time he'd seen it, paler than her usual style, but now it was almost platinum and completely straight. He looked at the clothes lying on the floor; black top, dark blue jeans, black boots and a black jacket.

"Sporting my look, luv," he murmured.

"Spike?" her voice replied, and he jumped.

He glanced over at her quickly, but she was still asleep, lying on her back now. Maybe she'd sensed him. Did a Slayer's senses pick up on ghosts? Spike stayed there, watching her, and didn't notice the time passing until the faint sunlight began creeping through the blinds and reached her face, lighting her up. She looked like she was on fire, like she had when...

He left as soundlessly as he'd entered, wandering off in search of Fred. The perky science girl was normally one of the first to arrive if she'd even left the lab at all. He'd barely vanished through the door when Buffy stirred and opened her eyes. She glanced around at her strange surroundings before remembering where she was and why she was here. She rubbed her tired eyes and tried to shake off a half-remembered dream. It was time to get down to business.

"Buffy?" Angel asked, over his morning cup of blood.

She entered his office and sat down in one of the large chairs opposite him, crossing her legs and folding her arms. Angel moved around his desk to lean against the front of it, facing her.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"The usual amount," she answered.

He nodded, unsure of what to say next.

"So what do we do?" she asked suddenly.

He blinked, confused. "What do we...?"

"About Spike," she clarified. "How do we—cure him?"

Angel raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. We've never encountered anything like this before, and Fred's doing everything she can."

Buffy nodded and stood up. Angel copied her, even more confused.

"Uh, where are you going?" he asked.

She moved to the door without looking at him. "To the Lab. I want to talk to Fred. She seems to be in charge of the whole 'get Spike's body back' thing."

"Buffy..."

She paused and faced him questioningly. He didn't know how to begin.

"I'm sorry—for not telling you. I didn't think it was worth it with him...the way he is right now. I know he earned your trust, and you—felt something for him...I'm sorry, but I didn't—"

"It's okay, Angel. I know you didn't. Spike...he's here for a reason. He deserves another chance. He did earn my trust, and I do feel for him, but right now—I'm not sure what I'm feeling. Maybe if we can get him back or if we don't and he just—" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second before looking back at Angel. "I think it's worth it."

He watched as she left his office, unsure how he felt. There had been a distance between them lately, but this was the first time he'd truly become aware of how large that gap was. He thought about what she'd said. She feels for him, not felt. He stared at the carpet for a while before finishing his blood, and decided to check in at the Lab himself.

"I really don't know what else I can do. I've gone over everything dozens of times. There's no new information, and I don't know what else I can try. I'm sorry, Spike." Fred said, removing her glasses and looking at her blond shadow apologetically.

Buffy walked in while Fred was speaking. She heard what the brunette had said to the vampire, saw his shoulders slump as he lowered his head, eyes closed. A second later he looked back up, a disarming smile in place.

"S'okay, didn't really expect a solution just yet—or ever. Guess I'll just stick to haunting the poof until I go—" He held up a fist in front of him and opened it suddenly, gesturing to the way he'd just vanish.

Buffy wasn't fooled for a second. Wasn't that just like him since he'd gotten the soul? Hiding his feelings away behind humor? Pretending that everything was okay and that nothing fazed him? Acting like the Big Bad?

"What makes you think you'll vanish?" she asked, making Spike jump.

Fred watched as the Slayer descended the steps into the Lab, and saw Spike staring at Buffy, swallowing before he remembered where he was and looked away.

"Been a side-effect of my current condition, I disappear from time to time," he answered, finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden.

"Where do you go?" Buffy wanted answers.

Spike recognized the determined look on her face. There would be no hiding it from her. That didn't mean he wanted to tell her of course. He couldn't after the way they'd said goodbye before.

"Nowhere good," he said shortly, chancing a glance at her.

Buffy nodded, pursing her lips. She took in her surroundings. The Lab was hi-tech. The Initiative labs didn't even have some of the stuff she saw here. She moved about the room, aware of the eyes watching her, but she ignored them while she considered her options. Fred said she was out of ideas, which meant nothing scientific would help—at least not until they knew more about Spike's—condition. She decided her best bet now would be to check in with Wesley for anything mystical that could give them a clue or even help point the Watcher's Council in the right direction to figuring this out.

Angel walked in to find Fred and Spike standing side by side watching Buffy explore the Lab. Everyone was being unusually quiet and it unsettled him. He knew that Buffy was thinking, he recognized the signs. She paused for a minute in front of some test tubes before striding back to the group, clearly having made a decision.

"Where's Wes' office?"

"Oh, um, I'll show you. He couldn't find anything either. This entire situation is—unusual," Fred answered.

Buffy nodded seriously, but continued to stand there waiting.

"Um, right this way," Fred said, leading the group out of the Lab and passing by Angel.

Spike lagged behind. He was confused. On one hand, he was happy that Buffy seemed eager to help him, but then again she hadn't spoken to him much, hadn't even looked at him more than was necessary since she'd arrived yesterday. He also knew that none of what she was doing would help.

Angel stayed near the back of the little group, just in front of Spike. The Brit was doing a good impersonation of him right now, brooding. Buffy was being the Slayer to everyone. There was no banter, no cheerful smiles, or off-topic babbling. Maybe all the years of Slaying were finally taking their toll on the young woman? She looked different too.

Gunn approached with Dawn and Andrew in tow and they melded into the Slayer's little troop. Dawn stuck to her sister's side while Andrew walked beside Spike, casting glances in the oblivious vamp's direction, a dreamy faraway look in his eyes. They reached Wes' office and Fred knocked, only for Buffy to open the door and walk right in. Wes stood from where he'd been absorbed in a book and raised his eyebrows at the large group entering his office. Surprisingly, Lorne was there, probably discussing a demon ritual for some party he was throwing, so the whole gang was now gathered together.

"May I help you?" Wes asked.

"Did you find anything that could point to why Spike's in his current state? Something to do with the amulet maybe? Anything at all? Maybe something the Watchers could help with or Giles or Willow?" Buffy was straight to the point, searching for anything that could provide a clue.

"Well, I'm afraid not. I tried, but there isn't really a lot to go on. We didn't have that much information on the amulet to begin with, and it doesn't seem to hold any power now. I really don't know what else I can do or where else to look. You could perhaps get Willow to try something, but I don't think she'll fare any better with nowhere to start." He shrugged and waited to see what the Slayer would do.

Buffy stared back at him then turned to Dawn.

"I guess we call Willow then. No one here knows anything. Maybe she can try something different." Dawn nodded as Buffy spoke to her, agreeing.

"Buffy, we have some of the best mystics around, and we've dealt with some of the most powerful witches. There was nothing they could do either. I don't see how Willow's going to be able to help," Angel said, exasperated and a little offended.

The Slayer crossed her arms and looked him straight in the eye. Her mood and tone of voice were unchanged, remaining neutral.

"Willow performed one hell of a spell in Sunnydale. Something no one had ever tried before or even thought would work. She pulled it off. She's the most powerful witch I know. I think it's worth a shot." She moved to step past him, but he didn't budge.

"Buffy, I really think you—"

"Angel, I'm trying to be patient here. We both know you aren't Spike's biggest fan, so I can see why you would be willing to give up quickly and don't understand why this is important, but I'm telling you it is. Now, since Spike is trapped here, I'm going to stay here until I figure this out. I don't have time to make small talk or relax."

The group watched the interaction and felt the tension in the room begin to rise.

"Buffy, what is this? Spike's even given up, why can't you? Is this because he saved the world? Do you feel you owe him or something? He told me himself he wants this to end. It's no kind of existence. This is exactly why I didn't want to drag you into this."

"He did save the world and he does deserve another chance at life. God knows I got enough of them, heck you even got one. This isn't an existence for him, so we should be trying to help. Not because we owe him, and I do mean we owe him since he did save the world, but because if he's going to be trapped here he deserves to actually be here," she argued, her voice rising a little.

Dawn saw the signs of a fight brewing and stepped back a little. Andrew wisely did the same. The others were glued to the argument. Spike was getting fidgety, staring at the ground, clenching his fists, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

"Buffy, Fred and Wes told you there's nothing we can do. Spike's accepted it!" Angel said, his own voice rising.

"He's accepted slipping into Hell? Would you?" she shouted.

Dawn gasped. She hadn't thought that Spike would be headed for Hell. It made sense, but it was just hard to imagine. Spike—in Hell.

"Spike is—" Angel began, but was interrupted by a loud growl.

"SPIKE IS RIGHT BLOODY HERE!" Spike shouted, finally losing control of his temper.

They all turned to gawk at him. He growled again and started pacing.

"This is all very helpful by the way. I'm glad I've become such a bloody attraction for you all. Spike's a ghost now. Ooh let's find out what's wrong with him. Turns out he's not a ghost. What is he then? Dunno, have to run some tests, check the books. Oh well, nothing, don't know what we can do. We can't make him corporeal? Nope. Oh, what a shame. Oh well, he'll get used to it. He seems fine. Yeah, he knew where he was going, let's just leave it. No big deal." He finished his rant and turned to face the other vampire and the Slayer beside him.

"You," he said, pointing to Angel, "are bloody thick. Of course I haven't sodding accepted it you git. You want to holiday in Hell for eternity? Sure, it would be nice if it was all over, but hey, I thought it was when I fried in the Hellmouth. I don't fancy coming back to—this," he gestured to himself, "just so's I can die again. And you," he pointed to Buffy, "just because I saved the world doesn't mean you owe me. It's a selfless gig, and you of all people know that. Don't turn me into some pet project just because you don't want any guilt over me dying."

Buffy gasped and stared at him open-mouthed. Everyone took a few steps back. Spike had surprised them, and they could all see the explosion set to come from the ticking time bomb of a Slayer, everyone except Spike who was still high on his rant, nostrils flaring and teeth grinding. Angel looked from Spike to Buffy and moved back as well. If only Spike were solid, she could kick his irritating ass all over the place. Angel didn't want to be used as the replacement vampire because she couldn't hit Spike. As it was, he was sure the inevitable outburst would be enjoyable.

Buffy made as if to speak several times before just closing her mouth and shaking her head. Eventually she found her tongue again. She glared at the thick-headed vampire across from her. There was so much stored up inside her since that day in the Hellmouth. She had so much to release and didn't know where to begin, not to mention dealing with their current situation and finding out he was back and living with Angel. She stepped closer to him, leveled him with a hard gaze which he met, glittering green into icy blue.

"You stupid, insufferable jerk," she started, getting ready to lay it all out for him. "You know what you are?"

Spike glared back at her, waiting for whatever new insult she had lined up for him. There weren't a lot he hadn't heard in their time together.

"You're a dope," she said.

He opened his mouth to retort before her words sank in. He blinked. So did everyone else. That was not what they were expecting. That was the best she could do? The words held meaning for Spike though. He was transported to a different time, in her house, as he was about to leave—the night after the best night of his life.

"I'm a what?" he replied softly, replaying the conversation they'd once had.

She smiled and bit her lip. He thought it was bloody adorable.

"A dope, and a bonehead, and you're shirty. Spike, I'm not here because I'm guilty, although yeah, major guilt, but nothing I haven't felt since the day you died. I came here because I found out you were back, before I even knew about any of this. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? My strongest ally, my support, my strength, my friend was back, and he didn't even tell me. I thought...I don't know what I thought—that you'd finally given up on me. But now I know why. I want to help you Spike, but not because I think you deserve it, which you do. I want you back because I'm extremely selfish."

He could feel the old feelings. How did she always make it feel as if his heart was beating when he knew it was impossible?

"That's not a word I'd associate with you, Slayer."

She smiled again and he felt intense joy at the sight. The happiest he'd been since coming back. She raised her left hand in the air in front of him, the hand she'd used to hold his as the Hellmouth collapsed around them, the hand that had caught fire in his. He raised his own to meet it and they hovered, millimeters apart, almost touching. Miming that day, the day he burned.

"Oh, but I am. I'm selfish. I want you back, Spike. I want you back." Her eyes were sparkling as they stood close together, smiling at each other, as close as they'd been in those last days again.

Angel shifted uncomfortably. They were far too intense for his liking. Buffy shared moments like those with him, not Spike. Spike was just—Spike. It was definitely not what he'd been expecting. Wes and Gunn noted Angel's reaction and observed Spike and the Slayer curiously. Fred and Lorne smiled at the interaction. Obviously Angel had been unwilling to admit the closeness those two shared as well. He'd even denied that they had a relationship. It was obvious to everyone that the two had a strong bond. Dawn was grinning like the cat that got the cream, and Andrew sighed happily. It was just like one of his fantasies. He had to update the others on everything that was happening the minute he got near a computer.

Spike was so focused on Buffy's eyes he didn't notice he was leaning closer to her. His head lowered as if to let his forehead touch hers. Both were unaware of the decrease in space between them. Suddenly, they touched. Spike's hand met Buffy's and stayed there. His head touched hers without going through. Their eyes widened. They gasped. For a second she could feel his cool skin, and he could feel the warmth of hers. Everyone looked on in amazement and paid closer attention to the couple. Spike leaned back and stared at their hands. Buffy did the same. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly his hand went through hers and they both shuddered at the sensation.

"What the hell?" Slayer and vampire asked in unison.

Everyone stared, their jaws dropping. Buffy and Spike tried touching again, but he just passed straight through her. Spike growled.

"What is going on here?" Buffy demanded, frustrated.

"You all saw that, right?" Buffy asked their spectators before turning her attention back to Spike. "I touched you, as in made actual contact. I felt you."

"Me too, pet. It was like I was solid again. Dunno what happened," Spike replied, studying his hand intently as if it offered a solution.

"Try it again," Dawn said, excitedly.

"We did. It won't work, see?" Buffy said, passing a hand through Spike until he stepped back, frowning.

"Oi."

"Sorry," she said, even though she didn't sound it.

"No, no, no. Try it again, like the way you were, all focused on each other and stuff. Maybe it only works if you concentrate really hard." Dawn was practically jumping on the spot in her eagerness.

"Sounds plausible to me," Fred encouraged the teen, smiling at the blonds.

They thought about it, turned to each other and shrugged.

"Worth a try, yeah?"

Buffy nodded and held her hand up again. Spike did the same. They focused all their thoughts into touching. Their hands passed through each other. They took a couple of deep breaths, looked each other in the eye, and tried again—nothing. Buffy released a frustrated sigh, and Spike clenched his jaw and started pacing again.

"So now what?" Buffy turned back to the group looking for answers.

A deflated Dawn chewed on her lip. Fred seemed lost inside her own head, and Wes was squinting at the pacing vamp and the Slayer as his lips moved soundlessly, running through any possible theories he might have.

"Um—" Andrew's voice started before Angel interrupted.

"Maybe the mystics can work it out? Or we can get a psychic in?"

"You mean one of those people who communicate with the dead and sponge off people with relatives not of the living anymore?" Spike asked sceptically.

"They don't all sponge off people like that. Some are genuine. We happen to know one, right?" Angel asked Gunn.

"Um—" Andrew tried again before Gunn interrupted.

"Yeah, I can get her here in twenty minutes," Gunn said, heading for the door.

"Are you sure that would help? Seems to me if a psychic was the answer we would have tried it already. Isn't their bit just involved with communicating with dead people? And if a necromancer couldn't help without shoving me in your useless un-dead carcass, I don't see how this bird will," Spike argued. "Long story," he said, holding up a hand to cut off the question a puzzled Dawn had been about to voice.

"Why are you arguing? I thought you wanted us to help you? Now we're doing something and you don't think it'll work?" Angel asked, irritated.

"Uh, guys—" Andrew spoke again.

"Actually I think Spike has a point," Buffy said.

Spike grinned and Angel gawked at her. Gunn paused by the door, unsure of whether to go or not.

"Now you're arguing too?" Angel asked, baffled.

"Ahem, well—" Andrew raised a hand in the air.

"Well it's just that psychics are all about the communication and possession stuff, but we don't need help communicating with Spike. He's doing just fine on his own. Also, this isn't possession, and when have they ever mentioned a ghost touching them? Not in an eerie presence kinda way, but actually felt them like they would a normal person?" she pointed out.

"Okay, point, but what do you suggest? I mean this isn't a normal situation. We don't have a lot of options," Angel argued.

"Well, maybe—" Buffy started.

"MAYBE THEY JUST AREN'T CONNECTING THE WAY THEY WERE!" Andrew blurted out loudly, causing everyone to stare at him. He blinked and blushed under their scrutiny, suddenly feeling shy and nervous. "Um, well, I mean, when you guys touched you weren't focusing on touching, right? I mean you didn't even know you could, and it was just a happy accident. Maybe, uh, you guys touched because of how you were connected. Maybe it's because of what you were thinking at the time and you lost the connection when you stopped, um, connecting," he finished, going even redder.

"Could you have fit the word connection in there one more time," Gunn asked, amused, and Andrew's blush deepened.

Buffy and Spike shared a sidelong glance and turned away shyly. Dawn nodded slowly, considering Andrew's theory before her excitement returned.

"Okay, so what were you guys thinking?" she asked eagerly.

Spike and her sister refused to look each other or anyone else in the eye, finding the floor, furniture, walls, and even their shoes far more interesting. Buffy's cheeks also turned an interesting shade of pink.

"Um, well..." Buffy trailed off.

Spike rubbed the back of his neck, and everyone watched the pair with interest and a little confusion. Dawn raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms, and tapped a foot on the floor.

"Well? Come on, what's the big deal? This could be the answer. Don't tell me it was something dirty because that would be weird, not to mention gross. Seriously you guys, like, eww? Room full of people, remember?"

"It wasn't like that," Spike was quick to clarify, before tilting his head in Buffy's direction, a smirk crossing his features. "Least not on my part anyway. Dunno about the Slayer here..."

Buffy's eyes widened, and she raised a hand as if to whack him on the arm before she remembered and lowered it again, giving him an eye-roll and a scowl instead, but was unable to hide the twitch of her lips as she suppressed a smile. Spike grinned even wider at her before turning back to Dawn. Angel scowled and clenched his jaw.

"It's just that it's private is all. Between me an' the Slayer. All those—emotions and stuff." He waved a hand dismissively, feeling awkward again.

"Oh." Dawn became serious.

She knew her sister tended to hide her emotions, and the few times she didn't were when you knew things were bad. It was hard for Buffy to show what she was really feeling at any time, more-so since she had an army to command. Then again, after Sunnydale, the Slayer had been more confiding in Dawn, telling her about Spike. There wasn't anyone else she could talk to about him, and even then she'd held something back. What she had shared was enough for Dawn to forgive him, at least enough to give the vampire who'd fought so hard for his soul a second chance. She began to feel bad for the distance between them when he came back from Africa. Spike wasn't much for sharing either with his newly acquired soul. He didn't want to hurt anymore so he instead of wearing his heart on his sleeve he hid everything. Getting these two to share their feelings and thoughts with everyone in the office, even with each other in private, wouldn't be easy.

Lorne broke the silence.

"You know, maybe this is my area of expertise after all," he mused.

The others waited for him to elaborate. He seemed to be thinking about something as he studied Spike and Buffy. Fred nudged him, and he realized everyone was looking at him expectantly.

"Well I never gave bringing Spike's body back a try since I'm more of a party demon, and his condition is kind of a mood killer, as is the attitude. No offense."

Spike scowled a little, then shrugged and nodded.

"But if this is about feelings then I'm your guy. You know I never tried reading a ghost before? This should be interesting. And a Slayer too. Not something you'd find in my job description, but hey. You two don't need to worry about sharing your deepest darkest secrets. I can do a reading and see if there's some emotional bond that allowed you to make contact. What do you say?" He left out the part where he would probably spot their deep dark secrets from the reading, but being a confidential Empath Demon, he had no intention of spilling them, unless it was of the utmost importance.

Buffy looked at Spike. He tilted his head, sighed, shrugged then nodded. She faced Lorne again.

"Well it's the best we've got right now I guess. What does this reading entail exactly?"

"Oh, nothing much, just a little song. You don't have to do a whole number, although the longer you sing, the better I can read you." Lorne grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Sing? We have to sing?" Buffy's eyes popped, and she couldn't keep the dismay from showing on her face.

Everyone else returned amused or sympathetic faces but didn't offer an alternative. Spike sighed.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Are you sure you aren't related to Sweet?" Buffy asked, suspicious.

"Who?" Lorne frowned. "Oh wait, Sweet, big red guy, snappy dresser, likes to dance, makes people reveal their secrets through song until they spontaneously combust?"

Buffy nodded, her suspicion growing.

"No relation honey-pie, but I do know him. He throws some great parties you know, aside from the entertainment going up in flames at the end of the night, but it's an easy clean up."

"Isn't this a little off topic? C'mon Buffy, serenade the man or—well, demon," Dawn teased.

Buffy shot her sister a death glare. She surveyed her would be audience and looked at Lorne pleadingly.

"Do we really have to do this in front of everyone?"

"Sometimes it's better with a crowd," Lorne said, but Buffy's sceptical look made him re-think that. "Well, we could do it through here," he gestured to the meeting room next to Angel's office, "shut the door, a bit more private, unless you wanted to go to a karaoke club?" he asked cheerfully.

"Through here is fine," Buffy said, walking swiftly by the onlookers to stand in the meeting room.

"No one ever picks the karaoke club anymore," Lorne said regretfully.

He swept a hand out before him theatrically and Spike passed by him into the room with an eye-roll. Lorne stepped in and shut the door quickly behind him before Dawn or any of the others could follow. The teen huffed and turned back to the rest of the crowd.

"So how soundproof are these doors?"

Buffy and Spike stood at one end of the large meeting table while Lorne sat at the other in front of the large window that looked out over L.A.

"I'm ready whenever you are, kids."

Buffy closed her eyes and tried to remove the feelings of embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her while she thought of a song. Her mind had gone blank and she couldn't remember the lyrics to any songs she might have sung, and the ones she did remember seemed stupid or inappropriate. She knew it wouldn't really matter what she chose, but this seemed like a significant moment, and maybe she would be able to express her feelings through song better than she could in her own words.

Spike was obviously waiting for her to start, the chicken. He probably had a thousand punk songs lined up in his head, and he wasn't exactly shy. He could irritate the hell out of her sometimes, even just by keeping his mouth shut and not moving. It was one of the many things she'd missed about him. Suddenly the perfect song popped into her head. It wasn't something she would have thought to sing to an audience, but it conveyed what she felt right now. She wasn't sure she could say it to him if they were just talking. He hadn't believed her that day, but maybe a gesture like this would help. She looked up, straight at Lorne.

"Made your mind up sweetie?"

She nodded. She turned until she was half facing Spike, but keeping her eye contact between both of them, trying to ignore her flaming cheeks as she started to sing.

I should have done something

Again I did nothing

Watched us separate

What should I do now

Run and chase you down?

I can't hesitate

Buffy fully focused on Spike now, who had been staring at her since she'd started singing and gave him a shy smile.

'Cause all I wanted to say was something real

All I want you to know is how I feel

All I wanted to give was my heart

But I'm stuck here at the start

Spike swallowed hard and she saw the emotion in his eyes. It was like the way he used to look at her, when he had been an open book, laying everything out for her to see. He'd closed himself off after the soul, but in those last days they'd been close. He'd let her back in, and she'd let him in without knowing it. She sang straight to him now.

It's on the tip of my tongue but I'm still afraid

Sometimes the only thing words do is get in the way

Sometimes the easiest things are the hardest to say

But I don't want to lose you, drive you away

Don't want to confuse you, I need you to stay

Only wish you knew what I wanted to say

Only wish you knew what I wanted to say

Buffy was too caught up in the song and Spike to notice the partially opened door or Dawn and the others peeking through. Not trusting herself to make it through the rest, she finished her song, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. Finally she'd been able to show him he did mean something to her. After the shock of those first few days after Sunnydale, she knew what she felt was real. She hadn't lied to him out of pity. How would losing him have hurt so much if she had? It had torn her in two finding out he was alive and hadn't told her. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that, even in their current situation. Spike had never stayed away from her before, he'd always been there. She wondered why he didn't even want help from her. Singing for Lorne wasn't how she'd imagined opening up to Spike, but she might not have been able to do it otherwise.

Outside, there was some shuffling as everyone tried to catch a glimpse into the room. Wes and Gunn were less enthusiastic to spy on the Slayer and Spike than Dawn, Fred, and Andrew, who were huddled the door, but curious enough to cast a glance or two in when they could. Angel was sulking. Buffy had never sung to him like that. Buffy had never sung to him period. He reminded himself she was only doing it because Spike was disappearing. They had been close and she was saying goodbye in case they couldn't save him. It wasn't like she loved him. She was still cookie dough.

Gunn watched his boss, feeling sorry for him. He knew what it was like to be in competition over a girl. Andrew was sniffling, and Dawn elbowed him in the ribs, telling him to keep quiet.

Inside the meeting room, Lorne nodded his head and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting. Okay Spikester, you're up. That's gonna be a tough act to follow." He crossed his arms and waited for the vampire's song, hoping he didn't have a singing voice in common with his grandsire's.

Spike barely acknowledged the Empath Demon, quickly meeting the green eyes looking up at him. He wasn't used to this sort of scenario, and it wasn't really his style, but she'd opened up to him, which meant more to him than she could know, and he owed it to her to say what needed to be said. When he sang, it was for her.

Will you listen to my story?
It'll just be a minute
How can I explain?

What ever happened here
Never meant to hurt you
How could I cause you so much pain?

When I say I'm sorry
Will you believe me?
Listen to my story
Say you won't leave me
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe
Will you believe in me?

He could leave it there. Stop singing, but, looking at her…

All the words that I come up with
They're like gasoline on flames
There's no excuse
No explanation
Believe me
If I could undo what I did wrong
I'd give away all that I own

When I say I'm sorry
Will you believe me?
Listen to my story
Say you won't leave me
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe?

Sod it. He'd never been one to do things by halves anyway.

If I told you
I've been cleaning my soul
And if I promised you
I'll regain control
Will you open your door
And let me in?
Take me for who I am
And not for who I've been?

They got closer to each other. Buffy could feel tears pricking her eyes. They'd never been good at sorry.

Who I've been...

They'd built up trust gradually. She'd never let him apologize for…and he'd never known how. After what he'd said in the Hellmouth, after hiding his return from her, she needed to know.

When I say I'm sorry
Will you believe me?
Listen to my story
Say you won't leave me
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe?

When I say I'm sorry
(When I say I'm sorry)
When I say I'm sorry
(When I say I'm sorry)
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe?

He reached out a hand and brushed her hair away from her face. She placed a hand on his chest and felt him. She leaned against him and he supported her, solid and real. He cupped her cheek and felt the wetness from the lone tear that escaped her shimmering green eyes. His own were watery from the sensation of touching her again.

"Spike," she whispered.

"Shh, luv, it's okay," he said, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

Dawn was as much of a blubbering mess as Andrew at this point. Who knew that Spike had that in him?

"I wish I could find a guy who'd sing to me like that." Dawn sighed wistfully.

"Yeah," Fred agreed, making Wesley shift uncomfortably.

"Yeah, me too," Andrew agreed.

They all stared at him. His eyes opened wide with realization and he shifted under their stares.

"Um, I mean, you know, a woman. I want a woman to sing to me like—or I could sing to her like—uh..." he stuttered.

"If I had the slightest idea who you were I'd probably be worried about you. Thankfully I don't and I'm not. Lorne?" Wes asked, walking into the meeting room, looking for his friend's analysis.

The green demon was wiping at his red eyes with a hankie and Fred walked over to pat him on the arm.

"That was just—beautiful. Really, I've never seen anything like it. Look at me. I'm a mess," he gushed.

Angel grumbled under his breath. Buffy and Spike still hadn't pulled away from each other and it was making him antsy.

"So do we know what's going on? Why they're—" Angel glanced at the duo again and closed his eyes. Shaking his head he turned to Lorne again. "Why they're touching?"

"Well, that's the thing, you were right kiddo." Lorne nodded at Andrew who grinned like a cheshire cat. "They are connected. Spike's not a ghost. What we're seeing is his essence, his soul. It was trapped in that amulet when his body burned up. He must have become bound to it. But that's not all his soul's bound to. Spike popped out of that amulet because someone never let him go. Spike, you haven't disappeared since Buffy got here, have you?" Lorne asked the Brit.

He didn't get a response. Spike and Buffy hadn't moved and didn't appear to be listening. Angel coughed—nothing. He tried again, louder—still nothing.

"Spike!"

That shook them out of their reverie. Unfortunately, it broke the connection again, and Buffy stumbled into Spike as he went back to ghost mode. They scowled at Angel who didn't look one bit sorry.

"What?" asked Spike through gritted teeth, a low growl rising in his throat.

"Answer the question," Angel said, trying to hold back a smile and simultaneously avoid the Slayer's death glare.

"What question?" Spike frowned.

"Have you had any unwanted vanishing acts since the Slayer got here?" Gunn clarified.

"Oh, uh, not that I can remember, no, been here the whole time." Spike shrugged, putting his hands back in his pockets and averting his eyes from Andrew's star-struck look.

"Didn't think so," Lorne agreed. "The bond's too strong now."

Angel did not like where this was going. Not one bit.

"Please don't say what I think you're going to say," he begged.

"Say what?" Buffy asked, suddenly interested in what Lorne had seen.

"Sorry Angel-cakes, but it's unavoidable. Now, tomorrow, a couple years down the line, they might as well hear it now." Lorne shrugged and looked at the Slayer and Spike again. "You two are bound together, your souls are connected."

Spike went stock still. They were...?

"Wait. So you're saying—?" Buffy asked, unable to finish the question, feeling her heartbeat speed up.

"You two are soul-mates," Lorne confirmed.

Everyone jumped at the sound of splitting wood. Angel had put his fist through the door. Buffy winced. She knew what he must be feeling. She felt a twinge of guilt that she wasn't as hurt by the news as she thought she would have been previously. Angel was special to her, first love after all, but she really was over him now. She'd suspected it the night he'd given her the amulet, but had given him hope because she wasn't ready to consider what letting go of what had been such a huge part of her life would mean.

Spike was struck dumb. The news shocked him, and he wasn't sure he'd heard right until he saw Angel's reaction. That confirmed it. He felt something swell inside his chest, which was odd since he hadn't felt anything physical since he'd burned to a crisp in the Hellmouth. A feeling of lightness seemed to course through him at hearing Lorne's words. After Spike had finally decided to stop fooling himself about Buffy and what she felt, here were the words he'd never dreamed could be true, being spoken by one of Angel's team no less.

Spike could now admit to himself how often he'd rethought their last moment together, replayed her words in his head. He'd told Angel straight out without even thinking about it… "you don't know, what we had". It was only after so much time spent floating around in this place, feeling unwanted, helpless—lost, that he'd begun to believe his own words. "No you don't, but thanks for saying it." Now—now he was going to let himself feel hope, the final thing he'd been ready to give up on.

"Careful, Gramps. You could do yourself in doing things like that. Splinters and vamps don't mix, remember?" He leered at Angel.

Angel went into vamp face, snarled, and yanked his fist out of the door. Without pausing, he opened it, walked through, and slammed it behind him. They watched his retreating back through the new hole. Spike knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he'd been solid right then, Angel would have staked him, or tried to anyway. Only the knowledge that the older vampire couldn't touch him had led to the Great Poof's exit.

"Did you have to provoke him like that?" Buffy asked, frowning at Spike.

It did little to shake his sudden good mood. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Actually, yeah, I did. I've had to put up with him shoving it in my face that he was your great first love, an' that you never loved me the way you loved him ever since I got out of that bloody amulet. Telling me I never had you. Guess he was wrong after all, eh, kitten?"

Kitten. God she'd missed hearing that. She forgot about scolding him and beamed instead.

"Yeah, he was. I was wrong too. You didn't believe me before. It hurt."

Spike gave her an apologetic look.

"Sorry, pet. Was easier to say goodbye if I didn't. I believe you now though. If you still mean it, that is?"

"Of course I mean it you idiot. I don't say stuff like that easily. I'm just sorry I didn't say it sooner. Sometimes—stuff dawns on me slowly."

"Not to break up the heart-warming reunion, but how does this help us make Spike corporeal again?" Dawn asked.

Buffy and Spike were finally being honest with each other, and accepting what everyone around them back in Sunnydale had suspected for a while but preferred to turn a blind eye to. Now Dawn was eager to get Spike back to his old un-dead self so her sister could stop grieving, and they could all leave the creepy offices of Wolfram and Hart behind.

Fred was all business again. The new information had given her some theories.

"Maybe the answer is in the amulet after all," she mused.

"I thought you said it was a dud ever since Spike vacated it?" Wes asked.

"Well that's what I thought, but I may have been wrong. The amulet didn't seem to have any power that I could identify, but I'm thinking that maybe it acts like a conductor. It channelled the energy of the sun through Spike which is how he closed the Hellmouth. Tell me, did you guys touch when the amulet was in effect?" she asked the couple.

"Yeah, we, um, held hands, for a while, and they caught fire," Buffy said with a blush. "Why?"

"I thought so. Being soul-mates would make you two halves of a whole, at least, that's the general theory, I've never really encountered soul-mates before," Fred said with a little smile.

"Oh trust me, honey-pie. Soul-mates are real. I've encountered a few of them in my time, a scarce few. It's sad to admit, but finding 'The One' is hard—really hard. But when you do find that person—my advice? Hold onto them and don't let go," Lorne said.

Fred nodded and continued, pretending to ignore the little looks Spike and Buffy were throwing each other.

"The reason you can touch sometimes now is because of a strong bond between you, which is also what kept Spike on this plain of existence. That wouldn't happen unless it was strengthened magically. If the amulet is a conductor, and it was working via Spike's soul when you touched, it stands to reason it would have solidified your bond. Spike was trapped in the amulet because it channelled energy through his soul and absorbed it. He emerged again when we triggered the amulet because Buffy couldn't let go of her soul-mate, but you were too far apart for it to work properly. It's only a rough guess, but I think that maybe if we can get you to touch again while connected to the amulet, the two halves people refer to will become whole, which may have enough power to bring Spike back fully."

"Not like I can wear the amulet again though," Spike pointed out.

"No. You couldn't, but I could," Buffy said.

"It should work the same way," Fred agreed.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's give it a try," Spike said, his swagger returning as his hope grew even more.

"Yeah, you do that. I'm gonna go hunt down Angel. Make sure he's okay," Gunn said heading out the door.

"I'd love to see how this turns out, but unfortunately, I have work to do. If you're successful, don't go running off without dropping by first, kay?" Lorne said, preparing to follow Gunn out.

"Of course not, Lorne. You've been a huge help," Buffy said, gratefully, giving him a smile.

"Yeah, not gonna forget the bloke who gave me the best news of my un-life," Spike added.

Buffy turned her now tender smile to him. Spike was looking at Lorne and failed to catch it, but the Empath Demon did.

"Oh, you guys. You're going to make me blush. Thank the Powers for green skin." He waved as he left.

"Okay then. To the Lab it is," Fred said leading the way.

"You okay boss?" Gunn asked Angel, whom he'd found in an empty office at the far side of the building, broken furniture lying around the room.

"I'm just great, Gunn, thanks for asking."

"Look, I know the whole Spike and Buffy thing has to sting, but it's been years since you two were an item. You aren't even on very good terms anymore since we took over this place. Maybe it's time to let go."

Angel leaned against the wall, flexing his fists, looking out the window. If it had been night, he probably would have gone out to kill something.

"I tried letting go already. It's why I left Sunnydale to begin with, but we've always had this connection and—I wanted her to be happy. A life with a vampire won't give her that. It's Spike! How can any part of that be good? They hated each other, always did. I mean, I know they—but she was in a bad place, not herself. For her to fall in love with—It can't be real."

"Seemed pretty real."

"That helps. Thank you."

Gunn picked his way across the room, over the broken pieces of a desk and some chairs to gave Angel a pat on the back.

"It's weird. I know. I mean the whole Slayer and vampire thing is beyond me anyway, but Spike—I get what you're feeling, really, I do. But that doesn't change what Lorne read. They have a bond. There's nothing you can do about it. Just try to look on the bright side. If this theory of Fred's pans out, Spike will be out of your hair, and you'll never have to see him again."

Angel perked up a bit at that, but then looked at Gunn in confusion.

"What theory?"

"Oh, right, I forgot you hightailed it outta there before she explained. Fred reckons that the bond between them is what helped to release Spike's essence from the amulet, since Buffy didn't want to let him go. Apparently they joined hands when he closed the Hellmouth, and it strengthened that bond. Basically, Fred thinks the amulet's a conductor, and if Buffy puts it on and touches Spike, it will work its mojo again to bring him back in the flesh."

The vampire's stare was making Gunn nervous. He hated when Angel got that look. It was all intense and depressing, like the world was about to end—usually because it was.

"Angel?"

"They're going to bring him back?" he asked, then mumbled, "a conductor? They touched?" Angel grew thoughtful.

"Boss, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we need to check this out and see if it works. If Spike's about to become a player in the fight between good and evil again, I think I should be there. He is family after all."

Angel led the way to the lab. Gunn had no idea what his boss was doing, but he knew there was more going on that just checking to see if Spike was over his ghost phase.

"There it is," Buffy said, eyeing the shiny crystal lying on the table.

"Yup. Looks pretty harmless, doesn't it?" Spike added, standing beside her, his hands in his duster pockets, a sign he was nervous but trying to hide it.

"I was pretty sure it lost any power it may have had, but there really wasn't any way to tell. I guess we're going to find out now though," Fred said, taking a deep breath, and turning to the couple.

The two blonds sighed, staring at the amulet, memories surfacing of the night they'd spent together in Buffy's basement looking at it, contemplating their big fight.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," Spike said suddenly.

"What?" Buffy asked, startled. "What do you mean? Why not?"

"We have no idea what that thing could do. Who's to say it won't end up burning you like it did me? I don't want you in danger because of me. We shouldn't risk it."

Buffy gave him a smile, walked over to the table, picked up the chain of the amulet, and turned so that it hung before them, twinkling in the bright lights of the lab.

"Okay, first of all, I am over people second guessing my decisions, remember? Secondly, we aren't trying to close a Hellmouth here, so I don't see why it would activate that way. Third, since when were you ever against taking a risk?" She gave him another reassuring smile, and after another moment's hesitation, Spike sighed and nodded with a smile of his own. "Okay, I'm ready when you are," Buffy said.

"Did we miss the show?" Angel interrupted, stepping down into the lab, ignoring Spike's glare, and giving Buffy a cheerful smile.

"No, we were just about to start. Are you okay?" she asked, lowering the amulet a little.

Dawn huffed and folded her arms. She'd been waiting for them to get this show on the road, but of course Angel had to barge in just when it was getting started, big, moody, nuisance that he was. Next to her, Andrew sighed, sensing another argument.

"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"

"I think your dramatic exit earlier might have somethin' to do with it," Spike muttered, quirking an eyebrow at Buffy and nodding at the amulet.

She smirked back at him. She wanted to do this now too, but Angel had stormed off like he wanted to kill something before, and now he seemed perfectly fine again. It didn't sit well with her. Angel shrugged and leaned back against the wall. Gunn noticed Fred looking at him and spread his hands helplessly. He had no clue what was going on.

"I reacted badly from the news. It wasn't exactly something I wanted to hear, but it can't be helped, right? Not if you two were really meant to be together, after all."

Spike growled a little and turned towards Angel, scowling. He wasn't buying that act for a minute. The poof was up to something.

"Of course," Angel continued, and Spike rolled his eyes, "who's to say that wasn't the amulet's doing to begin with?"

"What are you on about you ponce?" Spike asked, getting annoyed.

"I'm just saying that if the amulet is a conductor, and you two touched when it was working via Spike's soul, then maybe that's what bound your souls together in the first place. That's all."

Everyone stared at him incredulously. Gunn took a deep breath and glanced at Buffy and Spike. Buffy's face was an emotionless mask, while Spike looked about ready to blow. Dawn appeared unable to find words to voice her obvious irritation, and Andrew seemed to find the whole thing very interesting. Fred was frowning at her boss in confusion. Spike couldn't take it anymore.

"That's all?" he snarled. "What do you mean that's all? You're implying it was that trinket that made us soul-mates, and that's all? Where do you get off—"

Angel held up both hands in surrender, but he was obviously pleased with himself. Little seeds of doubt couldn't hurt…him.

"Hey, it's just a theory. You can prove or disprove it, but I'm saying, maybe, it's plausible. Don't you think it's plausible?" Angel glanced from Spike, whose face surely would have been bright red with rage if he wasn't dead, to Fred, who started and flipped through her notes hurriedly.

"Well, I'm not…I mean…um, it would be hard to tell…I mean, it wouldn't be my area. I have no way to prove that," she looked up apologetically.

Tension built in the room, making everyone uncomfortable, except for Angel. Spike's eyes flashed gold, and he was balling his fists inside his pockets, knowing it would do no good, but desperately wanting to vamp out, and beat his arrogant sod of a grandsire to a bruised and bloody pulp. Buffy popped the chain over her head and stood in front of Spike, facing him and cutting off his view of the other vampire.

"Spike, look at me. We're doing this, now. Forget everything else, just look at me and feel it."

Spike frowned, his temper ebbing, but he was still miles away from being connected to her. How was he supposed to feel the bond when the poof had just dumped that theory on them?

"Luv, I don't think I can—"

"Yes," she cut him off, forcing him to look into her eyes, which were gentle and affectionate, "you can. Feel the bond, Spike. It's there. It's real, and it's going to bring you back, but you have to be here with me. Please, Spike."

He felt the anger slipping away as he stared at her. The way she looked at him, even in those last days together, so tenderly, made him believe it. They shared something. He began to feel it. How much he loved this woman, was willing to do anything for her. The reason he'd changed. She cared for him, of that he was sure. Buffy reached out a hand, and after a split-second's hesitation, he raised his own to meet it. Slowly, they brought them together. They touched. Nothing out of the ordinary, aside from them making contact, happened, but they were too caught up in each other to notice. The others were looking pretty disappointed however, except for Angel.

"Well, that wasn't what I had in mind. I guess—" Fred began, but stopped when a bright light caught her eye.

They all turned to look. The amulet was glowing, a white light that was getting stronger until it enveloped the Slayer and vampire. It became so bright that they had to shield their eyes. A loud humming filled their ears then everything went back to normal. They blinked and tried to regain focus. Dawn was the first to notice the couple still standing in their original positions, hands touching, blinking a bit as well.

"Spike? Are you…?" she asked.

He looked down at himself, then back at her.

"Dunno, pet, but Buffy hasn't gone through me yet. Don't really feel different, 'cept, well, maybe a tad peckish."

"You're hungry?" Buffy asked, excitedly.

He glanced down at her then grinned.

"Yeah, actually. Haven't felt, well, haven't felt anythin' since—Oof!" He was cut off and pushed forward when Dawn jumped at him, grabbing him in a huge hug. "Watch it, Bit! Nearly knocked me—hey! You can touch me!"

"You're solid! You're back, Spike!" Dawn grinned at him, her eyes watering a little, happy to be holding him, and to give him the hug she'd so desperately craved since finding out he was alive—as alive as he could get anyway.

"I am. I'm back." He laughed and swung Dawn around in a circle making her squeal and giggle.

He set her down on the ground, a wide grin across his face when he was knocked sideways by another hug, this time from Andrew.

"You really are back. The hero is rewarded and returned by the power of love. Having endured the torment of slipping into hell, burning alive for your heroic deeds in the path of redemption, and living on as a vampire ghost in the evil offices of your sworn rival, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, cut it out, you little poof. I may be back, but it doesn't mean I like you any more than I didn't—and it definitely doesn't give you permission to—hug me. Get off!" Spike shoved Andrew away from him, but kept his hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

Dawn noticed and grinned. Spike was a big old softy. He might not be as fond of Andrew as the little nerd was of him, but he didn't entirely hate him, and regardless, he had his body back, he wasn't going to turn down human contact completely. She looked at her sister. The Slayer was staring at Spike, watching him with Andrew, and swallowing pretty hard. Dawn gave her an unseen, gentle smile. Buffy had him back, finally. Dawn glanced down and her eyes went wide.

"Buffy!"

Buffy turned to her sister sharply.

"The amulet! Look! It's gone black!" Dawn pointed to the end of the chain where the crystal had, in fact, turned completely black.

"I guess it's safe to say it's out of power now then," Gunn commented.

"Looks like. I could analyse it and—" Fred started moving toward Buffy, but just as she neared her there was a loud crack, and a split appeared in the crystal.

They all watched mesmerized as the crack spread, before finally the crystal shattered and tiny shards fell to the cold tile floor. They stared at the broken remains of the crystal. Slowly Buffy removed the chain from her neck, and picked off the few shards that had clung to her clothing, placing the chain on the table.

"Or not," Fred said, sighing.

"No more amulet. Can't say I'm disappointed," Spike said, tilting his head and studying the shards.

Buffy watched Spike as he looked down at the little black shards scattered on the floor between them. She'd been staring at him until Dawn pointed out the amulet. Spike was back, at last. She'd thought he was gone forever. Then she found out he was here, but he wasn't really here. Now, it was him; completely, head to toe, body and soul, Spike.

Memories, thoughts, and emotions flooded through her so quickly she had no idea how to react. So she simply stared, taking him in. Slowly, she tuned into her Slayer senses. Angel's vamp tingles radiated from his position in the corner, but she was focused on the other very familiar signature in the room; Spike or more precisely, Spike's demon. Feeling him made having him back more real, and relief and happiness broke like a wave over her. God how she'd missed him.

Spike was barely aware of movement as the Slayer closed the small gap between them and encircled him in her arms. He took a second to process the fact that Buffy was hugging him before he returned the gesture, looking down at her platinum blonde head. Her face was pressed against his chest and he could feel her body heat warming him up through the fabric of his shirt. She felt so bloody good, and he could smell her shampoo mingled with her own unique scent and knew this was real. It was his Buffy in his arms, reaching out to him. It was a physical closeness they hadn't shared since those nights when he'd just held her as they slept.

The others watched as the pair were reunited at last. While most of them were focused solely on the blond duo, Gunn was keeping one eye on Angel to gauge his boss' reaction. He knew it probably stung for Angel to see the couple like that, but even Gunn had to admit it was a dirty move trying to put that doubt in their heads. Telling someone you were forced to be soul-mates with someone else because a magical do-hickey was all kinds of bad, and a clear sign that Angel was not over his Buffy obsession yet, no matter how much distance had formed between them. For his part, the broody vampire didn't seem any more sullen than usual, but then how could you top looking like the world was ending every single day?

A loud rumbling noise brought all attention in the room back to the pair at its center. Buffy eased back a bit and looked up at Spike who smiled sheepishly.

"Hungry?" she asked, smiling back.

"A bit. Been a while since I ate," Spike answered.

"Well then, let's get you fed. There's bound to be some blood around the evil law firm. Angel, you probably have something better than pig's blood with your new CEO status, right? Please tell me it isn't human—'cause I'd really have to stake you for that." The blonde wrinkled her nose, turning to face the dark-haired vampire as she spoke.

"Not human. Not pig either. Great, sure. Why not give him my blood as well?" Angel muttered, rolling his eyes.

He found himself bouncing off of a desk and onto the floor seconds later, his jaw aching. There were shocked gasps around the room and a startled "Spike!" that sounded like it came from Buffy. Angel looked up to find an angry Spike glaring at him from where he'd been standing just moments before, fists clenched, nostrils flaring and gold flashing in his icy blue eyes. Eyes that were sending him a very clear, yet unspoken message, "stay down." For the first time in their history together, and for a reason he couldn't quite fathom himself, Angel obeyed, sitting on the floor, making no further attempt to get up after turning to face his attacker.

"Don't much like your tone, mate. I really hope you weren't insinuatin' anythin' with that remark. Been a long time since I've had a spot of violence, and you know how much I love a good fight."

Neither vampire blinked. Angel read a whole lot more from Spike's body language, and he wasn't stupid. He knew what the other vamp was saying. She isn't yours. She's not your property and never was.

Spike knew Gunn and the Science Queen were getting edgy at the standoff, but he didn't much care. This was between him and Angel. Only the anxiousness from the three people he actually gave a toss about—well two people he cared about and one annoying yet unavoidable addition to the group was preventing him from having it out with his grandsire then and there. After all this time Angel still thought he had ownership over Buffy, had tried to come between them when they'd finally found a scrap of happiness. He gave Angel one final hard glare before turning his eyes to Buffy and relaxing his shoulders.

"Come on, pet. Could use some blood, among other things. I have a body I need to get reacquainted with."

"What?" the Slayer asked, with wide eyes.

Spike pursed his lips and gave her an amused look, one eyebrow lifting.

"Mine, all solid and not ghostly, remember?" he answered, gesturing at himself with a slight smirk.

"Oh. Right. I knew that. I completely knew that's what you meant," she said, a faint blush tinting her cheeks while she folded her arms.

"Course you did, luv." Spike grinned, his own hands returning to his pockets as he bounced back on his heels.

Buffy's blush darkened and she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear as she marched past him, and out of the lab. Spike followed, Dawn and Andrew strolling after them. Dawn smiling happily at their banter, and Andrew still lost in his own internal monologue about the day's events.

Harmony jumped to her feet when she saw the Slayer come marching straight for her with determination. Spike, the Slayer's sister, and the weird guy who'd arrived with Buffy were following the imposing little blonde. Harmony nervously backed up a few steps. She couldn't think of what she might have done to piss off the Slayer, besides trying to kill her—but that had been years ago.

"Buffy, hey!" Harmony said, attempting to be cheerful. "Um, is there something you needed? Because as Angel's secretary, it's my job to make sure his guests are taken care of, so if you need anything, anything at all, just ask, and—I swear I haven't done anything evil in a really long time, and that whole trying to kill you and kidnapping your sister thing is so totally in the past, right?"

"Harmony—"

"In fact, it's so far in the past we can probably laugh about it now, right? Ha, ha, yeah. Because that's what people do when water's under the dam, right? They laugh. Ha! Ha, ha, ha."

Buffy frowned as Harmony continued to force herself to laugh.

"Water under the—what? Harmony, I'm not here to slay you—or whatever it is you're thinking."

"Not sure she's doing much of that at all, luv."

Buffy swatted Spike on the arm, but was smiling as she did so. Spike pretended to pout before he rubbed his arm, and started to grin.

"Hey," Harmony said. "We're not a couple anymore, Spike. You can't make airhead jokes about me—In fact, I'm a respected employee of a big important law firm now. You can't ever insult me like that, even if we were dating."

Harmony turned her chin up defiantly at the Brit, but she quickly realized who was standing in front of her and her eyes widened. She hurried to correct her blunder.

"Which we so are not!" she said to Buffy, waving her hands back and forth quickly to emphasize how much she and Spike were no longer an item. "Besides, he's a ghost and stuff so even if I wanted—not that I do, but—"

Harmony paused.

"Wait…"

"Penny's finally dropping," Spike muttered.

"You touched him." Harmony pointed at Buffy and Spike in surprise. "You hit him! Oh my God, Spikey! You're corporeal? How did that happen?"

Spike grimaced at the pet name Harmony had used while Buffy and Dawn giggled behind their hands. He gave Harmony a stern look and attempted to ignore the chuckling females next to him.

"Turns out the amulet wasn't so useless after all. Now, Harm, if you don't mind, I've been without a good meal for far too long."

"You want blood?" Harmony asked, crinkling her nose.

"Yes Harm, that's precisely what I want. And none of that pig swill either. I'll take some of the quality beverage you give ol' Forehead."

"The Boss' blood? Uh, I don't know—"

"It's okay, Harmony. As one of Angel's guests, Spike gets the good stuff," Buffy interrupted, folding her arms.

"Spike's a guest now?" Harmony asked skeptically.

"Just get the blood," Buffy said, her face changing to stern Slayer again.

"Okay, sure, give me a minute, one cup of Angel's special brand coming right up," Harmony babbled, rushing off to get the blood before Buffy decided to whip out a stake.

The little group watched her go and Buffy turned to Spike, quirking an eyebrow.

"So, Spikey, we get you fed and then what?"

Dawn giggled again, and Spike rolled his eyes before giving them both a good natured smile.

"All right, all right, enough with the mockery, yeah? You think you'd be a little less quick to make fun of the bloke who just came back to living color."

"You're not living," Dawn pointed out.

"Well no, not if you want to get technical about it—"

"Buffy."

The group turned to see Angel approaching. Spike growled and Buffy placed a hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze.

"Angel," she said when the dark haired vampire reached them.

"Buffy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—what I said back there—I didn't mean to imply—" Angel began.

Spike snorted.

"Like hell you didn't," he muttered.

Angel's eyes flicked to Spike quickly, before returning to Buffy, soft and sincere. Buffy sighed to herself but slapped on a tolerant smile and held up a hand to stall Angel before he started apologizing again.

"Look, Angel, can we just—"

"Here you go. Angel's special brand of imported—oh, hi Boss," Harmony said, handing Spike a large mug and giving Angel a little wave.

Angel's eyes narrowed as he watched Spike gleefully grab the mug and gulp down the blood without pause. When he was finished, Spike hummed with satisfaction and tossed the mug at Angel who caught it reflexively. Angel looked at the empty mug in his hands and scowled.

"Right then," Spike said, rubbing his hands together and rocking back on his heels, "that hit the spot—ooh, I just remembered."

Spike headed for Angel's office, disappearing behind the door with a flash and leaving the others staring after him a little perplexed.

"What is he doing in my office?" Angel asked, annoyed.

Before anyone had a chance to respond, Angel hurried after his grandchilde. Buffy shrugged and followed and so did Dawn and Andrew. They'd barely gotten in the door when they heard Angel yelling.

"Get out of my chair! And get your boots off my desk!"

Angel had both hands planted on his desk, leaning over it to glower at Spike who was reclining in the large office chair, his hands behind his back, his feet resting on a stack of papers on the desk. Spike smirked back at the older vampire.

"Just finding out how comfortable this chair really is. No wonder you rarely get off your ass these days. Kind of hugs the contours of one's body." Spike shifted a little getting more comfortable. "Oh yeah, that's better."

Angel swiped Spike's feet off the table and picked up the papers that had been lying underneath them, inspecting them for dirt.

"Oh come on, it's not like my boots are muddy, I couldn't even touch dirt 'til just now. And if the walk from the hygienic lab to your office made them filthy, you'd best hire some new cleaners."

Spike proceeded to spin around in Angel's chair, his grin forming again. He ceased his spinning long enough to meet Angel's glower again and lean forward conspiratorially.

"Admit it, how many times have you done this? Bet you've pulled the Dr. Evil act, yeah? Face the wall, wait for a client to come in and slowly spin round with that 'I'm better than you' smirk on your face." Spike relaxed in the chair again, his elbows resting on the armrests, his hands clasped, and gave Angel a serious, contemplative look.

"Ooh, Dr. Evil. Parody of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, a.k.a Number 1, James Bond's archenemy, evil genius, and head of the SPECTRE organization. Classic villain," Andrew said, nodding.

"All you're missing is the Persian," Spike added. "But then, you always did have problems handling a puss—"

"Spike!" Buffy exclaimed.

Papers went flying as Angel made a dive over the desk, and the Slayer's hand shot out, grabbing hold of the vampire's jacket and yanking him backwards.

"—ycat. Pussycat, Slayer." Spike blinked at them innocently. "What? He's never been a cat person. Gets scratched all the time."

Dawn snorted, Andrew gave Angel a wide eyed look and Buffy glared at Spike, still holding Angel back. The older vampire struggled for a second before going suddenly still, wiping a hand through his hair, straightening his tie and holding his hands up in submission.

"You can let me go now. I promise I won't throttle him."

"Really?" Buffy asked, skeptically. "You're not just gonna hurl yourself over that desk the second I let go of you?"

Angel turned to face Buffy, and gave her his best I am calm face.

"I promise if you let go of me, I will not jump over my desk."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at Angel.

"Nor will you go around the desk, move the desk or in any other way find a way to get to Spike just to try and beat him up?"

"Buffy," Angel said, patiently, "I am a centuries old vampire. I think I have more self control than to get into a fight with Spike over the stuff that comes out of that huge mouth of his."

Buffy released him and folded her arms. Angel placed his hands on his hips and swiveled back to his desk.

"Now, Spike—" He paused when he was left staring at an empty chair spinning slowly around, with no sign of its previous occupant anywhere in the room. "Where'd he go?"

"Spike?" Buffy called, unfolding her arms and whipping her head around, searching for the blond vamp. Dawn had been watching Buffy and Angel and shrugged when Buffy gave her a questioning look.

"Um." Andrew raised a hand and they all looked at him. "He disappeared inside that wall, there," Andrew said, pointing.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"There's an elevator," Angel explained, then his eyes widened. "My apartment!"

Spike chuckled to himself as he tossed yet another bottle he'd found in the bathroom cabinet onto the bed. Walking past the nightstand, he paused and backed up a few steps, spying the remote sitting atop it. Tilting his head, a grin spread across his face.

Jumping onto the bed, remote in hand, avoiding the various items he'd tossed on it earlier, he flicked on the widescreen TV and began reprogramming it. After toying with it for a while, he removed the batteries from the remote and slipped them into his pocket, putting it back in its place while a pair of identical twins with hair taller than Angel's, and whose balls had yet to drop, 'sang' to a crowd of screaming girls at a volume that would be obnoxious by human standards, let alone a vampire's. Spike wasn't planning on staying long enough for the European, pop star torture to really get to him.

He was just getting up off the bed when the elevator dinged. Spike smirked and picked up one of the bottles on the bed.

"Whatever you're doing, cut it out now," Angel's voice boomed, before his hulking form entered the room, Buffy and co following.

Spike tossed the bottle in his hand to Buffy, who caught it dexterously.

"Take a look at that, luv."

Buffy frowned, puzzled, and glanced down at the white bottle in her hand. She flipped it around and saw a blue flower logo on the bottle, the writing underneath declaring it to be "Nancy Boy Conditioner". Her frown deepened and she looked up at Angel quickly. Angel was looking at the bottle in her hands, his eyes widening comically. He met her gaze and they stared at each other, both a little stunned. The bottle suddenly disappeared from Buffy's hand and she turned to see that Dawn had snagged it.

It's a good thing she isn't a cat, Buffy thought. Because with her curiosity, her nine lives would definitely be up by now.

"That's not all," Spike said, grabbing their attention again. "Shampoo, styling gel, soap, body oil," Spike quirked an eyebrow at Angel who was too horrified to move, "lip balm."

Spike tossed another bottle in the group's direction which Andrew caught.

"Oh, bubble bath," Andrew said, admiring the blue bottle. "Millions of champagne bubbles take you away to your special place," he read aloud from the label. "Luxurious."

"And the piece de resistance, Nancy Boy Hair Gel," Spike continued picking up a tub from the bed and reading from the label. "Makes hair look insanely attractive, especially salt and pepper. Banishes flyaways, deepens color, and imparts sleek highlights, it's all about the lanolin, a miracle ingredient for hair."

Spike tossed the tub to Buffy. She looked at the label, not quite believing what she was seeing, but yep, Spike was just quoting the Nancy Boy marketing staff.

"Bloody hell, Gramps, I was just yanking your chain, but you really do use this stuff."

Dawn couldn't contain herself any longer and burst into giggles. Buffy gave her sister a stern look but had to look away when she felt laughter bubbling up inside of her too. She couldn't face Angel either, and if Spike didn't shut up soon, she was going to lose it.

"Who knew Nancy Boy was a legitimate company, eh? But it figures that if it existed you'd be the one to discover 'em."

"Spike," Buffy said, warningly, or tried to anyway. She couldn't say anything else for fear of erupting into giggles. At least now she knew the secret behind Angel's hair.

"Oi, Slayer, you can't scold me for this one, all I'm doin' is stating fact. I mean, he's got the whole bleedin' product line in his bathroom."

Angel finally recovered from his stupor and yanked the tub and bottle out of Dawn and Buffy's hands, rushing across the room to the bed, not noticing the way Andrew had suddenly hidden his hands behind his back. Angel dropped his expensive range of products onto the pile on the bed and grabbed the lapels of Spike's coat.

"At least there's one benefit of you being solid again," Angel began, threateningly, when a particularly loud bout of squealing from the television made both he and Spike clap their hands over their ears.

"What the hell have you got on?" Angel roared, rushing to grab the remote, while Spike staggered over to Buffy.

"Geez, Spike, could you have found anything worse to put on?" Buffy asked, also covering her ears as music for yet another of the twin musical travesties songs began to blare out of the surround sound system, something called Lipstick, according to one of the horrors on stage.

"Well I would have gone with porn, but I didn't want you accusing me of corrupting the Bit!" Spike yelled back, still covering his ears. "'Sides, he's already got most of the X rated stuff added to his favorites list."

Buffy stared at Spike in disbelief and cringed as more fangirl squealing took place.

"Angel!" she yelled, turning to the broody vampire who was shaking his remote and desperately flicking buttons. "Shut the damn thing off already!"

"I'm trying!" he yelled back.

Dawn decided enough was enough and quickly ran over and unplugged the TV. The pop star and his fans were sucked into a white circle that shrank into a pinprick before vanishing completely from the TV screen and there was blessed silence at last.

"Finally," Buffy said, removing her hands from her ears and sighing with relief. "Honestly, Spike, that was a bit much even for—Spike?"

Spike was nowhere to be seen. He'd snuck out sometime during the confusion.

"I'll kill him!" Angel swore, tossing the remote down and grabbing at his hair. "He's back all of five seconds and he's causing havoc. When I get my hands on that—"

"We'd better go find him," Buffy said, dragging Dawn towards the elevator. Andrew followed, keeping his hands behind his back. Buffy pressed the down button that would take them back to Angel's office, and the doors closed on the slew of curses streaming out of Angel's bedroom.

Buffy led Andrew and Dawn out of Angel's office and took a quick look around the lobby. Spike was nowhere to be seen. Buffy sighed and faced her companions.

"Okay, guys, we need to split up and find Spike before he gets himself in any more trouble. I have no idea what's gotten into him right now."

"I can go and find Lorne," Dawn suggested, "maybe Spike went to thank him."

"Maybe," Buffy said, thoughtfully, but I wanted to be there to thank Lorne too.

"Andrew, you ask around and see if anyone's seen him," Buffy said, and the young man nodded, his mop of brown curls bobbing on his head.

He really looks just like a big puppy, Buffy thought.

"Where are you gonna look?" Dawn asked.

Buffy considered her options. Spike had been edgy ever since they'd left the lab. Downing the blood like a man dying of thirst…but then, he hadn't had blood in a long time…but what about his behavior in Angel's office, and in Angel's apartment. What was that about? It was over the top even by Spike's standards. It was almost as if he wanted Angel to lose control. Like he was goading him into—

Buffy caught sight of Harmony and hurried over to the secretary's desk, an idea hitting her.

"Hey, Harmony, listen, is there a training room around here somewhere?"

"A training room in a Law Firm?" Andrew asked from behind Buffy.

"Evil Law Firm, remember?" Buffy said, casting a glance over her shoulder at him. "One that deals with demons on a daily basis and any other number of mythical, magical beings." She turned back to Harmony. "So?"

"Yeah, we do, but it's not your usual training room. No padded mats, all the weapons really are sharp and dangerous, and we even have a highly skilled demon trainer," Harmony said, proudly.

"That's fascinating, can you show me where it is?" Buffy asked eagerly.

If there was ever a place to find a hyper vamp like Spike…

Buffy approached the training room, letting her Slayer senses roam. She felt the tingles running down her spine, the familiar signature of Spike burning into her. She swallowed, unsure if she was ever going to get over the waves of joy she felt from being able to feel him again. There was something else on the edges though. Wolfram and Hart was giving off a strong evil vibe that had Buffy struggling not to tense up just walking through the corridors, and the number of demons she could sense in the vicinity wasn't helping.

There was a loud thump and Buffy's head snapped up. She rushed into the training room, letting the doors swing wide and watched as Spike sent a large horned demon flying through the glass to the observation room that surveyed the training area, which was thankfully empty. The glass shattered with a loud crash and shards rained down onto the training room floor below. Spike was facing away from Buffy, admiring his handy-work. Buffy stared wide-eyed up at the broken window. The demon wasn't getting up, whether Spike had killed it or just knocked it out, Buffy couldn't tell. Either way, something told her Wolfram and Hart were going to need a replacement trainer.

Spike turned to her, a mad grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. Buffy felt something in her chest flutter and her pulse sped up.

"Slayer," he drawled, letting his tongue run across his top teeth, bowing his head and prowling towards her.

"Spike," Buffy said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and tried again. "What are you doing? You're like a kid on a sugar rush."

He smirked at her, and continued moving forward. Buffy sucked in a breath and he changed course, veering to the left smoothly, circling her. Buffy tracked his movements, turning her head as he stalked her. Spike moved behind her and she let her senses follow him, shivered when he moved in closer and bent to her ear.

"It's been a long time since I've been able to touch anything, pet. Can you blame a bloke for being a tad—fidgety?" he said, low and sultry, his voice a caress across her skin.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she took another deep breath. When she opened her eyes again he was gone, had resumed circling her from a few feet away.

"So, what? All that stuff with Angel was just to start a fight? Get your kicks? You couldn't wait until nightfall and go patrolling instead?"

"Oh, I'll patrol, Slayer, just need to work off some pent up energy. Spend a few months fading in and out of an office building and you need a little rough and tumble. As for Angel—that was part of it."

"And the other part?" Buffy asked, taking a few steps into the room, moving with him as he circled this time.

He looked down at the floor. When he looked back up his eyes were dark, his voice rough, betraying his feelings behind the thin smile he offered.

"He's a git and he deserved it. The way he talks about you—acts around you—treating you like—property. All this time and he still—it bothers me, yeah?"

"I can take care of myself, Spike. I don't need you fighting my battles for me."

Spike stopped moving and opened his mouth to speak but Buffy didn't give him the chance, halting her own movements as well.

"Having said that, thank you—for sticking up for me. I know you and Angel—well you have a history with him longer than I do, so I know better than to think I can just tell you both to play nice with each other. It would, however, be nice if we could make it out of here without either of you ramming the other's head through a wall."

Spike chuckled at that. Buffy smiled then cocked her head when she saw the way his fingers were twitching at his sides.

"Need to work off excess energy, huh?" she asked.

Spike looked up at her, a slow smile forming on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Know what might help with that?"

"What, luv?"

Buffy grinned, flicking her hair back with a quick toss of her head.

"Sparring with someone who can actually kick your ass."

"Volunteering, Slayer?" Spike asked, tapping the back of his teeth with his tongue and tipping his head slightly to the right.

Buffy leapt at him for an answer, aiming a kick at his chest. Spike sidestepped and Buffy hit the floor, spinning as she rose to face him and catch the fist that came flying at her. She guided his fist past her head and elbowed him in the ribs. Spike grunted and bent forward slightly, bringing his head closer to her own. Their eyes met and a thrill ran through Buffy. She saw her excitement reflected in Spike's eyes and they both took a moment to savor the feeling of sparring together again.

Buffy had the wind knocked out of her when Spike's knee connected with her gut. Spike broke free of her grip and danced away from her, with a kick aimed at her bottom that sent her stumbling forward, spreading her arms to steady herself. He laughed and she shot a glare at him.

"Very funny. You are so going to get it."

"Bring it, Slayer," Spike said, bouncing on his feet like a boxer.

Buffy laughed, she couldn't help it. There was something about fighting with Spike that just—clicked. Actions speak louder than words, as the saying goes, and the way they moved together, as they were doing now, in a fluid, graceful dance was proof of how—matched they were. A kick here, a punch there, ducking, diving, sweeping movements; both their bodies spinning and whirling in harmony, it was sheer, unrestrained—fun. Fun. How long had it been since Buffy'd had fun?

Spike dodged Buffy and wasted no time in getting behind her, one arm clamping around her chest and pinning her arms, the other grabbing her around the waist, holding her still against him. Not to be outdone, Buffy maneuvered her foot behind his ankle and swept his leg out from under him, upsetting his balance and sending both of them toppling backwards to the ground. In a flash Buffy rolled over, grabbed his wrists and straddled him. Spike made an attempt to rise and shove her off, but Buffy forced his arms down to the floor and pressed against him, trapping him beneath her. Spike groaned.

They both froze. Buffy stared down at the blue eyes boring into her, the clenched jaw, at the turmoil on his face. She was panting from their exertion, her heart pounding. In this position, she could feel how truly on edge he was, and wondered how she'd missed it until now. Of course, pressed against him as she was now, made it a lot harder to miss, no pun intended. There it was again, that fluttering in her chest. She thought of everything he'd been doing—excess energy, he'd called it. He'd been looking for a fight, and he'd actually been restraining himself.

"Spike." She hadn't meant for it to come out as a whisper, but the air between them was fused with so much energy, she couldn't bring herself to shatter it with words.

Spike's eyes closed, and he inhaled sharply, struggling with himself. When he opened them again, she saw the desire there, and something else—an apology. It confused her. A puzzled frown graced her forehead. Spike answered her unvoiced question with a resigned sigh.

"Shouldn't look so surprised, luv. Told you, been a long time since I've been able to touch anything—anyone. Haven't had human contact since—the boy and the Bit were different. Hadn't quite sunk in yet, then you go and hug me—never been close Buffy, not to anyone, not until you. Brought everything back—everything I'd almost forgotten. Holding you—in my arms again…" Spike squeezed his eyes shut, taking another couple of deep breaths. "You've always driven me mad, Summers. Ever since you hugged me in that bloody lab, I've been doing everything I can think of to stop myself grabbin' hold of you and showin' you just what it means to me that you came here—came for me."

"Why did you do that?" Buffy asked, softly, releasing his wrists and bringing one hand to rest on his chest while the other traced his cheek, gently.

Spike never moved.

"What makes you think I'd have a problem with that?" she went on, still speaking softly, tracing his face, the fading scar on his eyebrow, the soft strands of hair above his ear, his jaw line.

"Still can't stop wanting you. I get close to you, I'm never going to be able to let go."

She brought her thumb to his mouth, caressing his lower lip, smiling as she followed her thumb's path with her eyes, before meeting Spike's gaze again. She shivered when she saw the awe in his eyes. The look he saved for her.

"Silly, Spike," she whispered, leaning down, hovering over him, "you're not supposed to."

She closed her eyes, letting her instincts guide her in, could practically feel his soft lips when a pair of hands on her shoulders stopped her. Surprised, she blinked and met his eyes again.

"Maybe we shouldn't," he said, though it looked like it was killing him to utter the words.

"What? Why?"

"The amulet," pain flashed in Spike's eyes, "we don't know anythin' about it—what it might have done." He looked away.

Buffy blinked, blinked again. She placed both hands against his chest and straightened so she could glare down at him.

"Oh no," she started, "no. You don't get to do that."

Spike whipped his head back to look at her, surprised at the sudden anger in her voice.

"You wanted to tear Angel apart for trying to make us doubt what Lorne said. You don't get to turn around the second his back is turned and go all insecure on me. That amulet didn't make us soul-mates, Spike. No!"

She cut him off before he could argue.

"It started before then. You know it, and I know it. Those nights we spent next to each other," she paused, looked away, sighed and shook her head before facing him again. "Remember when you asked if I was there with you, when you felt close to me, and I said I was?"

Spike nodded, wordlessly, the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed.

"You asked me what that meant, and I avoided answering. I wasn't sure then, I didn't want to consider what it meant. I was afraid to."

Buffy took one of Spike's hands and placed it over her heart, left it there and pressed her hand to his, looked at him steadily.

"It means that I'm close to you. That I trust you and rely on you more than I've let myself trust or rely on anyone else. It means that you're The One, Spike."

Spike exhaled softly, his eyes going watery as he smiled, raised his other hand to her cheek, caressing her skin. Buffy bent down to him again, keeping only a few inches of space between them.

"I love you," she whispered, closing the distance.

"Buffy." He spoke her name reverently, his eyes drifting shut as hers did.

"BUFFY!"

Their eyes snapped open and they whipped their heads around as Dawn, Wes, and Angel burst into the room. Dawn skidded to a halt, her eyes widening as she took in the sight. Angel and Wes slowed their pace and stopped just beside Dawn. Wes seemed embarrassed and looked away while Angel just stared.

"What?" Buffy asked in disbelief and annoyance.

"We uh—" Dawn stammered.

"We have a problem," Angel said, his tone flat, and his face emotionless.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut and growled under her breath. From his spot on the floor Spike did the same, only louder.

"What happened?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"You think you're amazed! How do you think I feel? I just got clocked on the coconut by Lenny the copy boy over there, all because somebody didn't replace the toner."

Lorne dabbed at the gash in his head next to one of his red horns which he'd received courtesy of one Wolfram and Hart employee, who'd found that fire extinguishers could be just as useful for beating some consideration into his co-workers as they could for destroying office equipment that wouldn't work.

"So, you called us here because one of your employees is off his rocker? Isn't quite 'the apocalypse is nigh' news I was expecting," Spike said sourly.

Angel glared at him and Spike just glared back. Buffy stepped in to intervene, knowing full well that Spike was still on tenterhooks and more than willing to go a few rounds with anyone if given an excuse. Who was she kidding? He didn't need an excuse. He'd just gotten his body back after wandering the halls of this place with Angel and co, then been interrupted just when Buffy and he had been connecting. Come to think of it, Buffy was itching to get physical herself with all the pent up energy that little rough and tumble had generated.

"He has a point, guys. Not that we don't care, because we do," Buffy rushed to assure Lorne, "we really do. I mean, it's thanks to you we got Spike back and—and well—"

Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Spike looking down at her, the barest smile on his face but a wealth of emotion tumbling in his eyes, and she couldn't keep from smiling back at him, placing her hand atop his. Lorne threw a grin their way, placing the cotton bud back on his injury as he did so. Buffy blushed when she caught his eye and continued.

"Ahem, yeah, so we are concerned, it's just if the world isn't ending it seems like something you could handle without us. Although, you're supposed to be handling that stuff without us anyway, right?"

Oops, where did that come from, Buffy? Guess I'm more annoyed by the interruption than I thought.

"If this was an isolated incident we wouldn't have bothered you," Angel said, coolly. "It's been going on all over the building. So far we've had two deaths and three more seriously wounded."

"People all over the building are going whacko and trying to kill their co-workers?" Buffy asked.

"Maybe you ought to reconsider your benefit plan, Peaches. Do you offer dental? 'Cause with so many fanged creatures around—"

"Now isn't the time for jokes, Spike. This is serious," Angel said, moving away from the broken printer he'd been leaning against and heading out into the corridor.

Buffy, Spike, and Dawn followed. Wesley had gone to the lab with Fred to work on what might be causing the odd phenomena. Lorne stayed behind to nurse his injury, and Gunn was organizing security in the building.

"How do we know it's not just something brought on by working here? Root of all evil and desk jobs? That's twice the evil and none of the fun. All work and no play makes Jack a downright psychotic nut job."

"This place does give off a nasty vibe," Buffy agreed. "Ever since I walked in the door it's been giving me that creepy, foreboding feeling. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we get to go home. I'd like to spend as little time in Evil Incorporated as possible."

Angel came to a halt and caught Buffy's eye. She stopped too, wondering what was wrong. He was giving her sad puppy eyes of disappointment, and she back tracked her words in her head to figure out what she'd said to upset him.

Oh, right. Evil Incorporated. Angel being the new CEO, I guess he doesn't like to think of it that way now.

"Angel, you can't expect me to be happy that you've taken this job. This place—you've been fighting against this place the entire time you've been in LA. Then you make a deal with the devil, somehow thinking you can do more good from inside the belly of the beast?"

"I'm changing how things are done here. We're changing how things are done. It makes more sense to make gradual changes to the source, to go for the heart, than to keep chopping off the heads of a hydra," Angel argued.

"Are you guys gonna keep using metaphors to make your point?" Dawn asked, observing the pair.

They both gave her a pointed look and she rolled her eyes and folded her arms, waiting for them to finish the argument. Fine, Dawn thought, not like we're in the middle of a crisis or anything here.

"Angel, look around. This place isn't changing. Evil is pouring out of the walls. Now the employees are willing to tear each other to shreds over the smallest things? Is it really so surprising?"

"Why would they want their own employees to kill each other?" Angel pointed out. "That wouldn't make any sense."

"Maybe because it amuses them?" Buffy began.

"SYLVESTER MCCOY!" The name echoed through the air like a battle cry.

"TOM BAKER!" Another name shouted as though meant for war.

They all turned flabbergasted faces to the scene in the lobby as Andrew charged across the room from one end, a Wolfram and Hart employee charging from the other, both with large office staplers in their hands. The astonished group watched as, before their eyes, an epic battle took place like no other. Both the short, rather scrawny men took hold of each other's jackets and shot staples at each other.

"OW! HA! OW! YOWCH! MUAHAHA!"

"Someone please tell me I'm hallucinating, and there isn't a nerd war going on before my eyes, because as far as apocalypses go? This one? So not part of the Slayer gig," Buffy finally managed.

"I would love to tell you that, but I appear to be having the same hallucination," Angel responded.

They watched as security appeared and tackled both screaming men to the ground.

"So now whatever's affecting your employees has Andrew too," Dawn said. "Great."

"Okay, we need to figure out what the hell is going on and how it's getting to people," Buffy said, pulling her eyes away from the odd display and back to the group.

"I'll go find Gunn and we'll meet you at the lab. Wes and Fred will hopefully have some news by now," Angel said, and walked off in search of his friend.

"Just once I'd like things to not fall apart around me," Buffy muttered.

Dawn smirked and patted her sister on the back.

"There, there, sis. Let's just make sure that as soon as this gets resolved we make a run for it."

"Deal," Buffy said then noticed Spike staring at her, a troubled look in his eyes. "Dawn, why don't you go ahead? We'll catch up," Buffy said, keeping her eyes on Spike.

Dawn glanced back and forth between them and nodded. "Sure, I'll umm, go see where they're taking Andrew while I'm at it."

Once Dawn had left, Buffy took hold of one of Spike's hands in hers, taking a step closer. She brought her other hand up to tap his forehead and the small worried frown there.

"Okay, what's up? You look like you want to say something, but you're trying really hard not to."

"You said—'so we can go home.' Just wondering, what we means—and home, and—yeah," Spike said, dropping his gaze to the floor.

Buffy felt another tug at her heart as yet more of Spike's insecurities shone through. Clearly, their moment in the training room wasn't going to be enough to reassure him that Buffy wanted him in her life. It shouldn't be all that surprising really. Spike had spent a long time not being wanted at all, especially here at Wolfram and Hart.

Well then, I'm just going to have to work extra hard to prove he is wanted—needed, and the best way to do that, is by answering some questions. No more beating around the emotional bush.

"Well home is Rome, temporarily at least. Dawn is going to attend school there, and she seems pretty psyched about it. Andrew has also set himself up nicely as a Watcher and head of operations."

Spike raised an eyebrow at that, and Buffy shrugged.

"Hey, we're limited on big players from the Sunnydale fight. Willow is working with the Coven, Giles is head of the new and improved Council of Watchers, Xander is training Slayers in Scotland, and Faith and Wood are taking care of the Hellmouth in Cleveland, hopefully making sure we never go through a repeat of what happened in Sunnydale."

"Bully for them. And Giles is the new big Daddy of Librarians R' Us eh? Gotta say, I never pegged the Whelp for life in Scotland. Didn't demon bird have something to say about that?"

Buffy's face fell suddenly, the painful memory of Anya coming to the fore of her mind. Spike didn't know. How could he?

"Anya—" Buffy closed her eyes briefly and hugged her chest, "Anya didn't make it."

"Oh, luv," Spike reached a hand out to squeeze Buffy's shoulder and she looked up at him, sadly. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I imagine that was hard for you, for Xander."

"Yeah. She saved Andrew's life," Buffy mumbled. "She died a hero."

Spike remained silent, his eyes growing distant, maybe remembering Anya from Sunnydale. It was still hard to believe she was gone, and Buffy had had months of accepting the fact. Spike still had to absorb it, and he'd had a lot in common with Anya. They'd both spent time struggling to be accepted by the Scoobies, to be taken seriously. In the end, they'd both given their lives to save everyone. The only difference was that Spike had another chance. Buffy and Spike had another chance.

"I meant you too," Buffy said, looking up at him.

Spike blinked and came back from his thoughts. He stroked his thumb along the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

"What?"

"When I said we, I meant you too. That is—if you want to. I'm not making you, but it would be nice, if you did come with us, with me."

Spike cupped Buffy's cheek gently and smiled down at her.

"Course I want to. I'd go anywhere with you, long as you want me there."

Buffy wrapped her hands around his waist and stepped into his embrace. Spike held her close, rubbing her back, resting his chin on her head as she snuggled into his chest. Hugging was a new sensation for them still. Buffy intended to get very accustomed to it before long.

"Well, just so there's no more misunderstanding," Buffy said, her voice muffled against his t-shirt, "I'll always want you with me."

Spike's grip on her tightened, and a rumble echoed from his throat. Buffy felt the vibration work its way up from his chest. They stayed like that for a blissful moment, wrapped up in each other, before another angry yell erupted in the lobby followed by a crash and thumping noises.

"Rome, eh?" Spike said, raising his head and relaxing his hold on her.

Buffy brought her hands up to rest against his pecs and leaned back.

"Yeah, but I'd been thinking about joining Xander in Scotland to help out with the Slayer training." She shrugged. "Trying to find a place to call home."

Spike bent down and placed his forehead against hers, and she let her eyes drift closed with a smile.

"Well, I guess we'll figure out where that is together."

Buffy's smile grew wider, and she met his gaze again. He was more confident now, his insecurities banished again. For how long, Buffy couldn't tell, but hopefully she could dispel them all together soon. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth and her breath hitched in her throat. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Spike inhaled sharply, drawing her eyes back up to his. That magnetic pull was there again, pulling them together, the centimeters of space between them shrinking.

"Slayer whore!"

Oh you've got to be kidding me! Buffy thought, unable to prevent herself from turning towards the unexpected distraction. What now?

Harmony stood at the end of the corridor, glaring at them in vamp face. Her fists were balled at her sides and she snarled around her fangs. Buffy and Spike stared at the secretary, baffled.

"Did she just call me a whore?" Buffy asked, incredulously.

Harmony roared and charged at them. Buffy's eyes widened but instinct soon took over. Reluctantly breaking away from Spike, Buffy faced the vampires as she charged. Spike wisely moved back out of range, giving Buffy some space. Buffy waited for her enraged opponent to get within a few feet of her before gracefully whirling in a downward motion, bring her right leg up behind her and around to connect with the side of Harmony's head. Buffy's hair brushed the floor as she continued to turn, completing the movement and straightening back to her original position in time to see Harmony rebound off an office wall and slump to the floor, unconscious.

"Have I mentioned what an absolute vision you are, pet?" Spike asked, from where he was leaning against a wall, arms folded.

Buffy grinned at him. "Not that I can remember, but I expect you to make it up to me."

Spike smirked and fell into step beside Buffy as she started heading for the lab.

"Let's hurry up and get this thing fixed. I don't fancy any more random attacks like that and who knows who's going to end up freaking out next."

"You mean that wasn't just a jealous fit of rage?" Spike asked, pretending to pout.

Buffy gave him a sideways glance and scoffed.

"Someone's back to their cocky selves," she said.

"What can I say, luv? Seeing you birds tangle like that, no matter how brief, was fuel for the fire."

"I strongly suggest you withhold any such fantasies of me and Harmony before I beat them out of you."

"I seem to remember someone hinting at a similar tussle between me and the poof involving oil. Works both ways, missy."

Buffy laughed.

"Well Angel does own body oil—"

"Don't even bloody think about it you evil bint," Spike cut in, giving her a mock glare.

Laughter bubbled out of Buffy at the look on his face. The playfulness between them was lifting a weight from her she felt she'd been carrying ever since the battle with the First. All the time and effort spent planning a war, then dealing with the casualties, her guilt remembering all those who'd died for the cause, all those that couldn't be saved. Then dealing with leaving what had been "home" nothing more than a gaping hole in the ground, the only memorial to their lives and their loved ones with no graves to visit. Planning for the future and what to do next was no picnic either. Watching Spike as he kept his eyes trained on her, walking by her side, always by her side, Buffy couldn't help but feel—

"Spike, look out!"

"Wha—Ow!"

Okay, so while being so focused on her was nice, it would probably prevent accidents if he looked where he was going too. Lost in her own thoughts, Buffy had been unaware of the way Spike was neglecting to move around the pillar he was headed towards. Her warning had come too late, merely succeeding in allowing him to turn his head and smack into the pillar face first, landing in a heap on the floor, clutching his face.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked, wide-eyed as she knelt next to him and pulled his hand away to inspect the damage, wincing when she saw the trail of blood coming from his nose.

"Bugger. That hurt," Spike said, blinking. "I thought I was done getting popped in the nose around you, Summers."

"Well maybe if you paid attention to where you were going in the building you've been haunting for so long…" Buffy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly. Key word being 'haunting'. Got used to ignoring objects like that. Sort of slipped my mind to keep an eye out for them again, distracted as I was."

Buffy offered a hand which he took, and helped him up. She took hold of his chin and tilted his head up to get a better look, then released him and grabbed his hand again, tugging him back into step with her as they carried on their way.

"Come on, goofball. We'll get to the lab and clean you up while we figure out what's the what."

Spike just grinned staring down at their clasped hands. He entwined his fingers with hers and was rewarded with a tight squeeze.

Ponce. Calm down, Spike berated himself. Just holdin' her hand. You're not some soddin' teenager. Somehow, Spike couldn't bring himself to care.

Dawn was already seated in the lab when Buffy and Spike got there, fiddling with a microscope as Fred wandered around the room, glasses on and chewing the end of her pen, a clipboard clutched tightly in her hands. Gunn was standing in a corner with Angel, murmuring something to him about a few incidents he'd had while tightening their security. Wesley was strangely absent, and Buffy figured he was probably looking for some obscure text or something in his office.

A number of Fred's staff hovered about the lab, examining charts and working with the expensive looking equipment. Buffy weaved her way through them, pulling Spike along with her until they reached an empty desk. She spun him around until his legs were backed against a stool then pushed against his shoulders lightly to make him sit. Buffy then went on a quick scavenger hunt for cotton wool swabs and began cleaning up the blood that had trickled from his nose.

Spike couldn't keep the grin off his face as she tended to him, and Buffy was finding it equally hard to contain her smile as she delicately wiped away the red smear, her left hand cupping his cheek, absently stroking it with her thumb. She was intent on her task, and only when she had removed the last spot of red from his skin did she meet his eyes which were so full of adoration and love that she momentarily forgot to breath.

"What happened to you?" Angel asked, suddenly only a few feet away from the pair.

Spike cut in before Buffy had a chance to speak.

"Ran into some more disgruntled employees is all. Any word on what's causing that yet?"

Buffy caught Spike's eye and shared a sideways smirk with him before pulling out another stool for herself, right next to Spike. The gesture put the adoring look back in Spike's eyes, and it only intensified when she slipped her hand back into his and let it rest on his thigh. Spike grinned at her again, giving her hand a small squeeze before tearing his eyes away again. Buffy saw Dawn beaming over at them and gave her younger sister an amused smile in return.

When she turned back to the group, Buffy caught Angel staring at her hand clasped in Spike's, a grim expression on his face and a cold look in his eyes. He noticed her watching him and looked away quickly, diverting his attention back to Fred who was still pacing the room.

"Fred, what have you got for us?"

Fred drew in a long breath and placed her clipboard flat on the desk. She removed her glasses and exhaled before meeting her Boss' eye and answering.

"I got nothin'."

"What?" Angel asked, a frown descending rapidly on his forehead. "You and your team have been working on this since we found out about it, what do you mean you got nothin'? There has to be something."

"I don't know what to tell you." Fred shrugged, brushing her hair behind her ear. "There's no pattern to who's affected by this. One minute they're perfectly fine and the next—it's crazytown. They didn't come into contact with anyone or anything in particular, and it's not spreading in any specific pattern that we can determine. It originated in different places throughout the building—"

"When did it originate?" Angel broke in. "Maybe that can help us. If we know when it started we can try and narrow down the source."

"The first incidents were recorded not too long ago. There were three incidents before Dawn found Lorne and alerted us. Near as I can tell it started happening when we were all—in the lab," she finished, her eyes darting over to Spike.

"When we were watching Spike become corporeal again," Angel said with a sigh.

Everyone turned to look at the blond vampire who frowned at the implication.

"Wait a minute, you're blamin' this on me?"

"It can't just be a coincidence," Angel said coolly, "you come back and people start trying to kill each other. I'd say it points to you being the source of this mess."

"Hold on a second here guys. How exactly would Spike getting his body back have caused this?" Buffy asked, looking to Fred for an explanation. "You think maybe something came back with him?" she asked, remembering the demon that had crossed over with her when Willow had brought her back.

"No, I don't think so. Spike was in the amulet. His essence was trapped inside so it's not like he could have pulled anything over from another dimension—unless, maybe there was something else in there with him." Fred frowned as she tried to come up with an explanation.

Wesley walked in just then, a book in his hands, looking somber.

"Or more likely," he cut in, "it was caused by the amulet itself."

Everyone exchanged glances and turned questioning looks in Wes' direction.

"Huh?" Dawn asked, eloquently.

"We know very little about the amulet's origins or its capabilities. Translations of the texts surrounding it are hazy and obscure at the best of times. Much of what was documented about it was lost. What we do know is that it was involved in a prophecy about an apocalypse—"

"A champion with a soul, it works like a conductor, blah, blah, blah, we know that part, what's this about it causing people to go savage and attack each other?" Spike interrupted.

Wes paused for a moment then cleared his throat before continuing.

"Yes well, there is reference to a cleansing involved, which we can assume is how it was able to harness the power of the sun via your soul to incinerate the First's army and close the Hellmouth, a baptism of fire as it were. It's possible that the amulet's cleansing attributes are what's causing this latest phenomena."

"And just how does wanting to rip your co-worker's throat out count as cleansing?"Gunn asked, skeptically.

"There has to be something therapeutic about bashing someone's head in when you're stuck next to them day in and day out. Monotony drives everyone to breaking point," Spike said, earning a few surprised or annoyed glares from various members of the group.

"No argument here," Buffy said then, drawing all eyes to her next. "What?" she asked, "I've worked as a mindless automaton. There were plenty of days I fantasized about locking Manny the manager in the freezer so he'd chill out a little."

"That's not too far from the mark actually," Wes said, lowering the book in his hand a fraction.

"Now hang on a minute," Angel said, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to understand the situation. "If the amulet is supposed to cleanse evil how come it didn't try frying everyone in the building like it did in the Hellmouth?"

"It wasn't required or used in the same way as in the Hellmouth," Wesley explained. "Spike's essence was apparently the only thing holding the crystal together. It was designed to only be used once. Spike's energy trapped within was sustaining it, and when he emerged, the amulet was drained of its power and disintegrated. I believe it was the disintegration that spurred this unexpected side effect. Being destroyed on a site of—well evil, caused the cleansing effects of the amulet to trigger at the moment of its destruction, unfortunately in a negative manner."

"So, amulet goes boom and suddenly anyone in the immediate vicinity who gets even slightly annoyed acts on all their pent up emotions? Violently?" Gunn asked. "Wow, now there's therapy for ya."

"So how do we stop it? I mean the way things are going pretty soon it'll have everyone in the building trying to kill each other," Buffy said.

"Not just the building, Supergirl."

Everyone turned to see a woman in a short red dress enter the room. Buffy took her in carefully, disliking her on sight.

"Eve," Angel said with a sigh of irritation. "You know what's going on?"

"Only what you do," Eve replied, placing her hands on one of the desks and hopping up to perch on the edge, crossing her legs to reveal more of her thighs. "And what the Senior Partners told me of course, which amounts to 'get it fixed now or we've lost the paddles to this canoe we're floating down the rapids in.' This thing is bigger than just one building. If it isn't stopped soon, all of Los Angeles will be affected, and it will only keep spreading."

"So how do we stop it? Did the Senior Partners tell you that?" Dawn cut in.

Eve turned her head to Dawn and smirked at her.

"The Senior Partners want this fixed, kiddo, it is after all affecting their business. Why do you think they sent me here?"

"I'm not a kid," Dawn said, with a growl.

Eve smiled at her and turned back to Angel with a flip of her short hair.

"They aren't very pleased that you started this mess," she said, glancing at Buffy and Spike, "so as soon as it gets cleared up they want your guests to leave," she finished, addressing Angel again.

Buffy bristled at the woman's tone and stood up quickly, disengaging her hand from Spike's and folding her arms.

"Maybe if the Senior Partners had been a little clearer on what the amulet was and how it worked in the first place, we wouldn't even be here," Buffy snapped. "Oh and don't worry about us. We don't plan on sticking around. As soon as this gets fixed and Andrew's back to normal, we're going."

"Hey," Eve said, raising her hands in the air placatingly, "I'm just the messenger. As for stopping it, I believe Wesley was getting to that part, right?" she asked sweetly, turning to the former Watcher.

"Yes, well, that's where things get—interesting," Wesley said, glancing back to the book.

"Define interesting," Angel said, folding his arms suspiciously.

"Well, in order to counteract these negative effects, a re-blessing of the amulet needs to take place in order to purify and dispel the negative energies it released."

"Re-blessing of the amulet?" Spike asked, deadpan. "You mean the amulet that shattered into a thousand tiny shards and had to be swept up in a dustpan?"

"Yes," Wesley answered, looking up.

"Do we even still have the amulet?"Buffy asked.

"Don't worry, Princess. An ancient and powerful artifact like that doesn't just get tossed in the trash around here. Like everything that was of value or use it's been filed away for safekeeping. It'll be in storage," Eve assured them.

"Okay great. So what exactly does re-blessing the amulet entail, and will it work if it's just in itty bitty pieces?" Buffy asked Wesley again, preferring to ignore Eve, whom she was beginning to dislike even more.

"Well that's where the interesting part comes in. It seems there is a prophecy regarding the purification of a tool of light, which I think it's safe to assume is the amulet."

"A prophecy," Angel, Buffy, and Spike said simultaneously, sighing and rolling their eyes.

Wesley paused to observe the trio with amusement before bending his head back to the text. He knew they wouldn't be pleased with this news.

"Tainted by the forces which it was created to expel, the instrument must be taken to where the angels weep. Once there, the Champion shall begin the ritual of purification."

"The Champion?" Angel asked. "I suppose it's not clear on who exactly that Champion is?"

"There are a few of us in the running," Buffy added.

Wesley frowned as he flipped the page and glanced back up. "Well, it isn't very specific—"

"Of course not," Angel interrupted, stalking off to a far corner in irritation.

"But," Wes continued, "I think we can rule out the Slayer."

"Huh?" Buffy asked. "We can rule me out? Yay," she said happily, then caught the eyes of both vampires and shrugged sheepishly. "Or not yay. Sorry, it's just, you know, prophecy, Slayer, usually I'm caught in the middle of this stuff. Umm, Wes, you were saying?"

"Ah, yes, well. It would seem that to cleanse the amulet, it must be symbolic of another cleansing, that of a demon." Wesley found the passage alluding to the cleansing and read aloud. "Seeking order or balance, the Champion must choose life eternal or brief. Cleansing the demon releases the soul, drawing light from darkness and ushering in the Final Cleansing. A sacrifice, uniting the blood of the demon with the will of the soul, light and darkness joined as one, opens the gates to the Restoration of All Balance. Until the choice be made, chaos shall tear the world to ruins." Wesley finished reading and faced his audience again.

"I don't think I like that the sound of that," Buffy said.

"Maybe you could explain what exactly that means in English, Wes," Gunn added.

"A ritual must be performed by a vampire with a soul to cleanse the amulet," Wes explained. "However, it would seem there is a catch or rather a choice involved."

"Let me guess, one choice is good for the vamp and bad for everyone else, and the other is bad for the vamp but good for everyone else, right?" Spike asked, looking grim.

"Well it would seem that's a matter of perspective," Wesley answered, carefully.

"Do tell," Angel put in, cocking his head as he waited for Wes to elaborate.

"It appears that the purification ritual can be performed two ways. One way involves cleansing the demon completely, freeing the Champion's soul and making him mortal—hence a life brief."

There was absolute silence in the lab as everyone took in that information. Angel and Spike eyed each other warily. Gunn was the one to whisper the word, "Shanshu."

"It would seem that would be the outcome, yes, "Wesley answered, quietly.

"But?" Angel asked, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"But," Wesley hesitated, then continued, "that would bring about this Final Cleansing, which, if we take into account the amulet's previous use, means that it will erase all evil in the nearby vicinity, effectively killing every demon in range and more than likely reducing the city to rubble."

No one spoke. Everyone was caught up in their own thoughts, whether it was the LA crew considering what would happen to their city or the Sunnydale group remembering the loss of their home. Wesley cleared his throat again and explained the other option available to them.

"The other choice involves a change in the ritual. Instead of cleansing the demon completely, the Champion willingly sacrifices his blood to restore the amulet and reverse its effects, restoring balance and returning things to the way they were. However, this involves uniting the demon and the soul—binding them forever. Life eternal."

"Gotta love those life altering decisions the Powers keep asking me to make," Angel muttered.

"And who says it's you that's involved in this bleedin' prophecy?" Spike asked, standing. "Considering how eager you were to not get involved with the amulet during the last apocalypse, I'd say my previous history makes me the likely candidate, now doesn't it?"

"You really think this is about you? Popping out of that thing is what started this mess," Angel argued, facing up to Spike.

"Oh right, and just because you're supposed to be the great hero around here, I get ruled out, is that it? Champion, Peaches. I am one now, and that doesn't change because you don't like it. We both know exactly what this is about," Spike argued, stepping closer to Angel.

"And what's that, Spike?" Angel asked, venomously, glaring down at his grandchilde, now only inches separating them.

"It's about you becoming a real boy again, even if it means destroying this city," Spike said clearly, keeping his voice low and serious.

Angel's jaw was locked as he glared down at Spike, his hands balled into fists at his side. The lab had gone so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Fred's assistants were all watching the showdown between the vampires. Buffy intervened, pushing them apart and glaring at both of them.

"What the hell are you both talking about?" she demanded.

Spike and Angel continued to glare at each other until Buffy shook them both a little. Spike sighed and slipped his hands into his duster pockets, looking away.

"The Shanshu prophecy," he muttered. "All about a vampire with a soul, surprised he didn't mention it to you already."

"What? There's a prophecy? What prophecy? Why didn't you tell me there was a prophecy?" Buffy said, whipping her head from side to side at both vampires until she settled on Angel. "What prophecy, Angel?"

Angel grimaced, and looked at the ceiling. He still refused to look at her when he explained.

"The Shanshu prophecy says a vampire with a soul will play a pivotal role in the apocalypse and his reward will be to live again in mortal form." Angel finally met her eyes, his anger at Spike gone, replaced with weariness. "I didn't tell you because I didn't really see it as an option. Redemption—isn't an easy road, and that reward just seems like a little too much to hope for. So no, Spike, this isn't about that," Angel said, turning back to the other vampire. "I learned a long time ago nothing is as simple as it seems."

"Because destroying all of L.A. to erase evil and become human is so simple," Spike mocked.

Angel growled and made a move to attack Spike but Buffy halted him with a hand on his chest.

"Okay, you two settle down now. We need to think about this. Wesley," she looked over her shoulder at the former Watcher, "explain more. What's the ritual this Champion has to perform and where is the place where angels—cry?"

"Weep," Dawn corrected.

"Right, that," Buffy said, nodding. "Where exactly is that?"

"Since it is a purification ritual to negate the effects Wolfram and Hart has had on the amulet, I would say it refers to hallowed ground—a church or cemetery of some kind perhaps," Wes said. "I can find out where exactly if you'll give me a few minutes."

"Fine," Angel said, "Wes go figure out where this hallowed place is, Fred, dig up those amulet pieces, everyone else, my office. We can work out what to do here while I'm—" Spike growled and Angel rolled his eyes, "while we're working on the purification ritual."

"Better work fast, kids. This place is coming apart at the seams and you heard what Wesley said, chaos shall tear the Earth to ruins until you stop it," Eve said, sliding off the desk and smoothing her dress.

"I'm not a kid!" Dawn screeched.

Everyone turned to the teenager just in time to see her grab the microscope she'd been toying with and slam it against Eve's head. Eve dropped to the floor in a heap and Dawn stood over her panting, raising the microscope again. Buffy snapped out of her shock and tackled her younger sister to the ground, wrestling the microscope out of her hands and pinning her down.

"Dawn! Dawn, stop it!"

Angel and Wesley dropped down next to Eve to check on her while Spike went to aid Buffy, restraining Dawn and exchanging a worried glance with the Slayer. Fred appeared next to the struggling teenager with a syringe.

"What is that?" Buffy asked, eyeing the needle, warily.

"A sedative to calm her down. It won't hurt her, I promise," Fred said, rolling up one of Dawn's sleeves.

Buffy helped keep Dawn's arm steady and watched as Fred injected the sedative. Dawn slowly began to stop struggling, whimpering instead, and Buffy relaxed her hold, brushing Dawn's hair out of her face, soothing her.

"I'm so sorry, Dawnie. It'll be okay, I promise. We'll fix this."

Buffy met Spike's gaze as she comforted her sister. He looked as worried as she felt.

"Eve's alive, but unconscious, she'll need medical attention. Wes, we need that location now," Angel said, rising from his spot on the floor next to Eve. "I'm sorry, Buffy," he said, walking over to the Slayer and Spike and glancing down at Dawn. "We'll take care of her."

"This has to stop," Buffy said, caressing her sister's cheek. "This has to stop now."

"Buffy, luv, it'll be okay. We'll fix this," Spike said, watching as Buffy continued to pace Angel's office, her arms folded, biting her lip, obviously lost in thought, with a worried frown on her forehead.

"Look, Wes will have the location soon. I'll head straight there and this will all be over before you know it," Angel added.

Spike grimaced as Angel made yet another assumption that he was the Champion spoken about, but brushed off his irritation for Buffy's sake. He knew she wanted to be by Dawn's side right now, but she was adamant she should be here to find out more about the ritual. Just because she wasn't the champion required this time, it didn't mean she could ignore her Slayer side telling her to get involved when lives were at stake, and with her sister one of those lives in danger, Buffy was going to do everything she possibly could to find a way to help.

They all looked up when the door opened to see Fred enter, a small, clear bag in her hands, like an evidence bag. Inside the small, black shards of the amulet lay resting at the bottom. Spike stared at the shattered crystal with distaste. He was hoping he'd seen the last of it when he'd left it behind him on the cold floor of the lab. Now, here it was again, causing more trouble and demanding another sacrifice to put everything right.

"Gunn and Wesley aren't back yet?" Fred asked, as she looked around at their glum faces.

"Not yet," Angel said wearily, resting his hands against his desk as he leaned back on it, his ankles crossed.

Gunn had followed them to the office only to change his mind and mumble something about checking on the cat before disappearing. Buffy had thrown a curious glance at his retreating form but evidently had decided she had too much on her plate right now to be dwelling on why Gunn needed to check on his cat in the middle of their current situation.

"The good news is it's in Los Angeles."

Everyone looked up as Wes entered the room chewing on one end of his glasses, a book in his hand which he was still studying intently.

"There's a church, abandoned, and from what I can tell, partially buried after an earthquake some years ago. Our Lady of Sorrow. It's said to have housed a number of weeping angel sculptures and had a rather unusual layout. No one quite understood the reason behind it, but the prophecy seems to indicate that the purpose lies in its function as a place of restoration and healing. It's designed for this type of ritual." Wesley looked up at last, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"An old, abandoned, buried church. Great, where exactly is it? Let's get this dealt with," Angel said, rising from his perch on the desk.

Spike scowled at him and stood from where he'd been seated in a far corner, ready to challenge the older vampire when Buffy cut in.

"No. We need to know more. There are two ways of doing this ritual. What are they?" she asked, facing Wesley expectantly.

"Right, well the first—the full cleansing—requires the Champion to bring the amulet to the Church and place it inside a sacred ring made of gold set into the floor. Several other pure healing crystals must be placed around it to channel the pure energies. Candles will be needed, an assortment of white, green, and blue, to be placed around the circle at various points. There is a certain amount of cleansing which must be done in preparation of the ritual, a mixture of herbs and oils must be laid out and scorched, helping to purify the circle. Once that has been done the Champion must tie the amulet to fire, earth, air and water—he will then need to brand himself with the symbols of these same elements," Wes paused.

"What do you mean brand?" Angel asked.

"The symbols of the elements can be located on a set of circular disks hidden in the Church close to the ritual circle. Their marks must be burned into the Champion's flesh, binding him to the amulet and targeting his demon for cleansing also. Once this is done, he must place his hand upon the amulet and speak the incantation that will restore it, cleanse his demon and the immediate vicinity of any and all evil—of course, there's no guaranteeing how far the range of such a cleansing extends…"

"And the other ritual?" Buffy asked, maintaining her poker face.

"Similar to the first. The difference comes with the elements. Instead of branding himself with them, the Champion instead adds his blood to the mix, pouring it over the amulet and tainting it with blood of the impure. This will retain a balance that will restrain the affects of the amulet's cleansing abilities. Light and dark, neither can exist without the other—the Champion utters a slightly different incantation and grabs the amulet as the ritual takes effect. His soul and demon will be eternally bound together—and as far as I can tell the negative affects the amulet has had will wear off, simply fading away."

"And you have the incantations?" Buffy asked.

"I have my team working on them now. They'll be ready in a few minutes. They have to be translated."

"So now we have to decide who does the ritual—I'm kind of assuming we're going with the second one right? The one that doesn't blow up L.A.?" Fred asked nervously.

There was silence in the room again as everyone traded gazes. Buffy sighed and threw her hands up in the air.

"Shanshuing is a big deal—I get that, but if the price is an entire city—maybe even more than just the city, it's too high. And the people here—the ones affected by the amulet—what's going to happen to them if this full cleansing takes place? Even if we took them out of the city, who's to say what would happen? They might be killed by the cleansing for having evil in them or they might stay that way. I can't—I won't risk that," she finished, stony-faced as she met Angel's eye.

"I know, Buffy. You won't have to. It's too risky, it could just make everything worse," Angel agreed sadly.

"Let's not make it worse. We don't want worse," Gunn said, walking in and loosening his tie.

"Gunn? What is it, you don't look well," Fred said, walking over to take her friend's arm and lead him to a chair.

"I went to check on the cat and see what it knew about this ritual thing—cat's gone. There's no white room anymore. Elevator opens up into a howling abyss—terrible sound by the way. I'm gonna be having nightmares about that for weeks."

"The cat's gone? That means we have no link to the Senior Partners anymore. Why would they—they must have taken off," Angel said, looking pissed.

"What?" Wesley asked, frowning. "Why would they—?"

"The cleansing. They don't want to take the chance of being erased by the amulet if it happens. They won't take the risk."

"But we aren't doing the cleansing, right? They should know we won't let that happen with people we care about under the affects of the amulet," Spike put in, watching Angel carefully.

His grandsire met Spike's gaze and Spike wasn't sure he'd ever seen quite so much hate and contempt there before, which was really saying something since it was the typical look he got from the git.

"They don't take chances," Angel repeated slowly. He turned and pressed a button on his phone. "Harmony, get me some blood," he threw a glance back over his shoulder, "and a mug for Spike too, I guess." He waited but got no response. "Harmony!"

"Uh, she won't be answering," Buffy said, blushing a little, "I sort of had to—knock her out."

Angel gave her an incredulous look and she shrugged.

"She went all psycho vamp on me. What else was I supposed to do, let her bite me?"

"No, of course not. Uh—you," Angel said, pointing out the open door at a woman scurrying past with a pile of folders in her hand. She paused when she saw Angel approach her.

"Me?" she squeaked nervously.

"Yeah," Angel peered at the name tag pinned to her shirt, "Beverly. You work for me right?"

"Well, yes, sir. I, um—" Beverly stuttered.

"Good. Would you do me a favor and get me and the idiot over there some blood?"

"Oh!" Beverly looked surprised and she peered over Angel's shoulder at a glowering Spike before retreating a few paces, smiling anxiously. "Yes, yes of course. I'll be right back."

Beverly hurried away and Angel turned back to his team.

"All right, we're on our own for this. We'll take a look at those incantations even though it's decided the second one is our best option—less risks involved. Everything but the herbs, crystals and candles will be in the Church, right?"

"Yes, this was the purpose in its design," Wesley confirmed.

"Okay, so give me the location, pack up what I need, and I'll get right on it."

"Again, what makes you so sure it's you that has to do this ritual?" Spike spoke up, losing patience again. "There are two Champion vampires with souls in the running and if you ask me, I'm the more likely candidate here."

"And why exactly is that?" Angel asked, sneering. "You just want to play the big hero for Buffy again, don't you? Save the day, fix Dawn—you never change, do you?"

"Oh, that's bloody rich coming from you! Out of the two of us, who exactly is it who's made the least amount of changes, gramps?"

"Will you two cut it out already? Can't we just have one adult discussion without you two turning into five year olds?" Buffy tried to intervene. "This isn't the time for this. Rational discussion is what we need."

"Tell that to your attack dog," Angel said with a growl.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not her attack dog."

"Could have fooled me," Angel said with a sneer.

"That does it, you egotistical—" Spike began, starting to advance on Angel.

"Um, excuse me?" a tentative voice came from behind them.

The group turned to see Beverly standing there with two mugs in her hands, chewing on her lip.

"Thanks, you can go now," Angel said, snatching the mugs from her and turning away.

Beverly scurried away quickly with one last glance over her shoulder. Angel walked over and thrust the second mug into Spike's hand, making the blood inside slosh about a bit and then stalked off, sipping at his own beverage. Spike glared at Angel's back and took large gulps of his blood, draining the mug in seconds and slamming it down onto a side table, folding his arms and waiting for their previous conversation to continue.

"There are consequences to performing this ritual. Having the soul and demon bound together forever—well it makes the prospect of eternal suffering in Hell more likely when one dies—if the vampire would even die at all. What exactly did it mean by life eternal?" Angel turned questioning eyes to Wesley.

"It doesn't specify. I just don't know. The vampire could become truly immortal, unaffected by his usual weaknesses or it may just mean that he will have no chance for redemption. His demon and soul will be forever entwined and where one goes, the other must follow." Wesley shrugged helplessly.

"Why are you so eager to be the one that binds his soul and demon then, Peaches?" Spike asked seriously. "It's the big reward you've been fighting for all this time isn't it? It's why you took over Wolfram and bloody Hart. You want to get your redemption. If you accept the demon as a part of you for eternity—you're out of the running."

Angel's team looked to their leader, sympathetic, confused, and anxious.

"Spike's right, Angel. You do this, you give up everything you've been trying so hard to achieve," Gunn added.

"Yeah, well, not too enthralled with hunting a wild goose chase anyway, Gunn," Angel responded.

"Angel, what—" Wes began.

"Besides," Angel interrupted, "this is more important, and if it works—well I won't have to worry about Angelus making another appearance and killing everyone I care about. Pretty sure I'm on a one track road to Hell when it all ends anyway. Might as well make sure I don't do any more evil before I get there."

"Angel," Buffy said tiredly, but he raised a hand and cut her off.

"No, Buffy. I've made my peace with this. My building, my town, my responsibility. I'll take care of it."

"I can do it, you know," Spike said. "Not for glory or to impress Buffy or anyone. I'll do it because it will help Dawn and the others, and it's my fault this started to begin with."

"Spike," Buffy said, turning to him this time, "It is not your fault."

"Buffy, we should have known better than to jump right into releasing me like that without knowing what could happen. It was risky to begin with. We knew the amulet was volatile, and using it in Wolfram and Hart—we should have looked into it more."

"Well then I'm as much to blame as you are," Buffy said stubbornly. "More so even, for not listening when you said to wait."

"Well then I'm at fault too for going ahead with it," Fred piped up. "It's my job to deal with this stuff. I'm supposed to take every possible outcome into consideration."

"Well, last I checked neither of you were champion vampires with souls, so regardless of how shared the responsibility is, it isn't up to you to fix it," Spike said, placing his hands on his hips and waiting for them to see sense.

"Spike, you're not going," Angel said firmly. "Like I said, it's my town and my responsibility. Just take care of Buffy and Dawn and—whatever his name is that came with them."

"You don't trust me do you?" Spike asked, stalking over until he was in Angel's face again. "Think I'm just trying to steal something from you, well I have news for you, Angel. I don't give a toss about becoming human, and I would never put them in danger. Maybe I just don't trust you, you ever think of that? Maybe I don't believe that when it comes down to it, when you have to relinquish that hope you've been clinging to all this time, that you'll have the guts to go through with it. Maybe I think you'll cave."

Angel dropped his empty mug on his desk and fisted Spike's shirt in his hands, pulling him close so he could stare down at him with absolute loathing and—was that—pain?

"I know you don't trust me, Spike. That's your problem."

Angel seemed to notice the puzzlement on Spike's face as he stared back at Angel, seeing the conflicted emotions written in the older vamp's eyes. Angel jerked his head back and violently tossed Spike backwards, making him stagger and wave his arms to maintain balance. Buffy reached out a hand and placed it on Spike's arm when he recovered and gave him a concerned look. Spike knew she didn't want a fight breaking out right now, but there was worry there too—for him. Spike looked back at Angel and saw his grandsire stiffen and turn away.

"I don't have a lot of trust in you either, but I know enough to know you'd never risk them. That's precisely why you can't go." Angel turned back around and glared at Spike. "Like I said, this choice has consequences. You played your part in Sunnydale. You've gone through enough with that amulet. I'm the one that brought it to Sunnydale. It's only right I deal with it now."

"You uptight, arrogant, sod," Spike argued. "Do you ever cut the 'woe is me' crap and all this self righteous sacrifice in the line of duty? You're giving up your grand prize just like that, even when you don't have to? Who's the one looking for glory again? I don't care if I get redemption."

"But they do!" Angel said sharply.

Everyone was taken aback by the outburst. They all stared at Angel, stupefied, but he was only interested in Spike now. Angel was breathing deeply to keep control, something he rarely did.

"They came all the way here for you. They stayed to bring you back. You have people who care about you—and it's not too late. You might not care about what happens to you, but they do. Don't let them down. You're a selfish idiot in my eyes, Spike, I'll never understand how you could earn their trust the way you have—but you're loyal. Even I know that. They want you around for some reason. Don't prove me right that you're nothing but a disappointment."

Spike had nothing to say to that. He was absolutely flabbergasted by Angel's admission. That he saw that Buffy cared for Spike, and faced up to the fact, was beyond the blond's comprehension. Angel had turned away again, placing both hands down on the desk in front of him. Spike stared at his grandsire's hunched back, at the tight grip he had on the desk. He looked so—defeated.

Spike felt Buffy's hand on his arm give him a little squeeze and he turned to her. She too was staring at Angel's back, her eyes misty. She faced Spike and gave him a small smile and tugged a little on his arm.

"I'd like to check on Dawn," she said quietly.

Spike tilted his head, gazing at her for a while before silently nodding. She released his arm, entwining her hand with his instead. Spike glanced back at Angel before turning, ready to follow Buffy out. Wesley's beeper went off and he grabbed it quickly, breaking the stillness that had fallen over Angel's team.

"The address of the church and the incantations are ready. I'll go and fetch them," he said, hurrying out of the room.

Buffy and Spike exchanged small smiles of acknowledgment with Fred as they walked out. Gunn ignored them, staring at his boss. The decision had been made. Spike walked alongside Buffy as they made their way silently through the corridors of Wolfram and Hart. His mind was racing with everything Angel had said and done. He still couldn't quite believe it. Something was tugging at him though, nagging him, something he couldn't pin down.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked and Spike started.

He glanced down at her and sighed, shaking his head.

"Just shocked, I s'pose. Never expected that from the Poof. Still not sure I heard right."

"Yeah," she agreed. "It got tense there for a while. You both had me worried you know."

"We did?" Spike asked, surprised.

Buffy shrugged and cast another glance at him.

"Well yeah. I mean you were ready to start brawling one minute the way you always are around each other then all of a sudden it was like some competition of who mattered less. It was like you were both ready to just sacrifice yourselves for the cause without really caring about the consequences, you know? Like the consequences were just something inevitable, to be dealt with as part of the everyday vamp with a soul routine."

Spike blinked and considered that.

"Didn't mean it like that, pet. Just don't see why he's so willing to give up everything that's made him—him is all. This quest for forgiveness has defined him ever since he got the sodding soul."

"So why are you so willing to give yourself up?" Buffy asked, drawing to a halt suddenly and releasing her grip on him.

"Spike stopped and turned to face her, frowning.

"What?"

"Spike, Angel made a lot of sense in there. Sense that still has my head spinning because it came from his mouth, but—Spike, you have people who want you around. I thought I'd shown you already that I need you. I missed you. So did Dawn and Andrew for that matter. Back there, it was like you'd forgotten that. As if we just pulled you out of that amulet and you were willing to dive right back in if that's what it took to stop this."

Spike lifted a hand and caressed Buffy's cheek. Her eyes were getting watery and she tried to turn away but he gripped her chin and stopped her.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't mean—" He sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling before looking down at her again. "I'm such a git sometimes. I won't leave you, luv. Not again. I never meant for you to think that."

"Better not," she said, giving him a light thump on the shoulder with her fist. "I don't want you to go to Hell, Spike. You deserve more than that."

Spike bit his lip and pulled her in for a hug. He stroked her hair while her arms wrapped around him and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. Despite what she might think, he knew what he deserved. One good act doesn't erase a history of evil and bloodshed. Unlike Angel, he'd never seen a bright shiny light at the end of the tunnel. But if it meant that much to her, he'd let her have that fantasy, and he'd even pretend to believe in it too.

"Let's go check on the Nibblet, yeah? Andrew too, I guess."

She nodded against his shirt and pulled away slowly.

"Okay," she agreed, sniffling a little and rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

She tossed her head and beamed up at him then, optimistic mask fully in place once more. Spike grinned at her and took her hand again. She said she needed him, so he'd be there for her, and right now she wanted to pretend everything would be okay, because there was a solution to this crisis and she just had to wait for it to play out. Spike really hoped she wouldn't be disappointed. The nagging feeling in his gut was telling him otherwise.

"Right. So, this is everything?" Angel asked, glancing at the two pieces of paper on the desk in front of him, the translations to both versions of the ritual.

"That's it," Wesley agreed, placing the black bag with the candles and other items needed on the desk as well.

"Okay then. I guess I'll get going. I doubt you'll find anything but keep looking for a way to help the people here who've been affected. Maybe there's a way to contain it or buy us some time until the ritual is done. I don't want any more people freaking out and trying to kill each other."

Angel stood up and shrugged his jacket on then paused.

"You should probably lock the door to your office. I know how engrossed you get in research and you don't want anyone sneaking up on you."

"I used to be a Watcher, and for Faith no less. I think I can handle a disgruntled employee," Wes said calmly.

Angel smirked and adjusted his collar. "Right."

"Angel," Wes said, gaining his Boss' attention again, "what you said earlier—about a wild goose chase—do you really believe that?"

Angel sighed as he met his concerned friend's eyes.

"I just think, with everything that's happened, looking at the big picture, maybe it's time to let it go. I'm not even sure it's an option anymore or if it's even the right one. I'm just tired, Wes. Tired of hoping that the next big fight is bringing me one step closer to that goal while the world falls apart around me."

"Is this," Wes sighed and Angel waited, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Is this because of Buffy?"

Angel remained silent and stoic before clearing his throat. "No. I mean why would it be?"

"It's just," Wes said, "with her coming here to get Spike back and the news that they're—" he broke off, as Angel looked away with a small grimace. "I know you've always seen the opportunity to become mortal as hope that you two—"

"It's not," Angel interrupted, "it's not about that. That wasn't the whole reason, and it's not because she and Spike—" he broke off with another sigh. "Just, trust me on this, Wes. It's better this way. No more risk of me losing my soul and becoming Angelus again, right? That's a plus in my book."

"Angel, I understand that, but knowing that you've lost your belief in what we're doing concerns me."

"I haven't lost my belief in fighting the good fight, Wes. If I had I wouldn't be here trying to make a difference and I certainly wouldn't be on my way to stop this latest catastrophe. Even if I wasn't—cynical about the Shanshu prophecy, it wouldn't change what I have to do now. Speaking of which, I really need to get going on that."

"Ah, right."

Wesley nodded and headed for the door again while Angel turned his back, staring down at the translations on his desk again. He heard the door close behind Wes and pinched the bridge of his nose to dull the oncoming headache he could feel. This had to be dealt with now.

***

Spike watched Buffy stroke her sister's hair as she sat next to where Dawn lay, strapped down on a gurney and still unconscious from the sedative. Andrew lay on another gurney on Dawn's other side. He was awake however, and wriggling under his restraints. Someone had gagged him, muffling his attempts to shout and curse which was a relief. A torrent of nerd rage was a nuisance they didn't need. Spike tilted his head as he watched the strong and powerful warrior woman dote on her younger sister, leaning in to whisper comforting words to her. It reminded him of those days in Sunnydale, and the way she cared for him when the chip almost killed him, and after the First captured him, when she brought him home and helped him get better.

She came for me again, he thought, still not quite believing this was real.

Spike remembered Angel's words, telling Spike he had people who cared about him and wanted him back, people he had to protect, telling him not to let them down. He wouldn't let them down. He'd been a bit—lost since returning from the dead to find himself in Angel's playground. He needed to focus on what was important. What was important? Simple, Buffy and Dawn, his girls—but there was still something bugging him.

Everything with Angel back there in his office was just so out of character from what Spike was used to. Granted he hadn't spent all that much time around his grandsire after the poof had been cursed with a soul, but still. He never just let go of something he wanted, and he definitely never stood aside for Spike. The whole reason Spike had worn the amulet in the Hellmouth was because Angel didn't want to risk wearing it. Angel needed to know what he was letting himself in for. The ritual to bind the demon and soul was still unclear. Why would Angel be willing to do something like that without knowing the full extent of the consequences? Spike rubbed his temple as he tried to work out why Angel had said what he'd said, and why it was bugging him so much.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked.

"Huh? Oh," Spike looked up at her and dropped his hand, "uh yeah, fine. Just thinkin' too much I guess. Not really known for doing much of that," he said with a small smile, "givin' me a bit of a headache."

"A headache?" Buffy asked, walking over and placing her hand on Spike's head, teasing her fingers through his hair.

Spike closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. He placed his hands on her waist and ran his thumbs under her shirt, tracing her bare skin.

"Headaches for you usually mean your brain is being fried with electricity or you're seeing ghosts," she said, sounding concerned.

"Not this time, luv. Just run of the mill headache from," Spike looked around the room, glanced at Dawn and Andrew and sighed, "dealing with another disaster. Bein' the bad guy was easy. Fighting for the good team, there's people to care about, time running against you—great honkin' responsibilities."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, following his eyes over to Dawn. "It's rough being one of the good guys." She turned back to him with a little grin. "Of course when you were bad it led to lots of ass kicking and humiliation."

Spike grinned back at her and pulled her a bit closer.

"True. Not that I have any complaints about you kicking my ass. That's the consolation to this white hat thing too. When push comes to shove, you rise above it and you win. It's fun to be on the ass kicking side with you."

"Too bad we won't be doing much of that this time around," Buffy said. "I'd give anything to have something to do instead of just sitting here." Buffy pulled away and walked back over to Dawn. "It's like Mom all over again," Buffy whispered, hugging herself.

Spike got up and stepped behind her, wrapping her in his embrace and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I hate feeling helpless. Just waiting around—it doesn't suit the Slayer side of me."

"Or the impatient Buffy side," Spike teased, and she gave him a look over her shoulder that turned into a soft smile. "Tell you what, in a place like this there's bound to be lots of demon employees roaming around that have flipped their lids just like Harmony, and there are only so many security guards. How bout I go and find Fred and get her to come down here and keep an eye on those two and we can round up the crazy demons causing havoc?"

Buffy twisted around in his arms to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. It gives us both something to do instead of just cooling our heels and from the looks of the place earlier they need all the help they can get to get things under some form of control again. Not to mention all that excess energy I still need to burn off."

"Sounds like a plan. But I guess we should avoid killing any of Angel's employees, huh?"

Spike dropped a kiss to her head and started backing up towards the door. "We should, but there's a few demons out there that aren't entirely harmless on a good day and under the circumstances if it becomes necessary…"

He trailed off and Buffy rolled her eyes before giving him another smile and turning back to Dawn. Spike paused in the doorway, looking at the sisters again and giving the still struggling Andrew one more glance before leaving.

***

He didn't know why he hadn't just kept on walking when he saw the open door to Angel's office. He'd found Fred, and she'd agreed to go keep an eye on Dawn and Andrew once she gathered her notes and some extra sedative just to be safe. Spike was heading back to Buffy when he saw the open door and something seemed to pull him towards it. Now he was leaning in the doorway staring at Angel's desk without really seeing it, lost in his thoughts again.

Standing here, the nagging feeling he'd had was back, even stronger now. He kept replaying the conversation from earlier. The decision on which form of ritual to do, Gunn's news that the cat was gone which meant the Senior Partners had vanished, afraid they'd be at risk even though they should have known the team wouldn't risk the city like that, the look in Angel's eyes when he faced off with Spike…

Spike ground his teeth together, frustrated. Maybe he was just looking for reasons to distrust Angel or an excuse to be cynical. Buffy was right. He'd been focusing on the bad instead of the good lately, too insecure to believe her when she said she'd come back for him, that she loved him and wanted him to come home with her. Deciding he needed to stop worrying and focus on the here and now, Spike straightened up and was about to leave when he finally paid attention to what he was seeing on Angel's desk; a sheet of paper resting on the polished wood surface. It caught his attention because it was on the opposite side of the desk from where Angel sat, unusual since the poof liked to keep his paperwork in order since becoming head honcho at the firm.

It was probably nothing, Spike told himself, but continued walking towards it, stopping at the edge of the desk and picking it up. A quick scan at the wording informed him that it was one of the incantations for the ritual. Another glance at the desk and Spike saw a note with the address of the church written on it he hadn't been able to see from his angle at the doorway. He was about to drop it when some of the wording on the incantation caught his eye. Frowning, he read it again, carefully this time. When he was done he had to read it again just to be sure, but he wasn't mistaken. Spike grabbed the note with the address on it and flew out the door.

***

It hadn't taken too long to reach the partially buried church, Our Lady of Sorrow, on the outskirts of the city. Every time they had an earthquake the church slipped just a little further into the ground. Luckily, it was still accessible or performing this ritual would have been much harder. Angel grabbed his bag from the car and made his way over to the church.

The rear of the building had sunk down into the ground but the main entrance was still functioning. Two statues guarded the main doors, one was broken but the other was still intact, the angel statue had its head raised heavenward and hands outstretched. The weatherworn stone had worn away the statue's features, leaving it faceless. Angel looked it up and down before heading inside.

"That's not creepy at all," he muttered.

The sound of the doors closing echoed around the building with a boom. Angel turned to see all the broken pews, cracked stone pillars and the picture frames lying on the floor. Inside, two more Angel statues stood either side of him, these ones looking at the floor with their hands clasped, stone tears running down their faces.

"Where angels weep," Angel said softly.

He began to maneuver his way through the church towards where the altar should be. Stumbling over broken pillars and pews, he slid down the sloped floor where the church was sunken down. He saw the altar, intact still, but didn't see any symbols or ritual circles on the floor around it. Thinking about it, the angle of the church would make performing the ritual pretty impossible. Frowning Angel took a closer look around at his surroundings. Maybe he was missing something.

Eventually he spotted it; a corridor leading off to the right, easy to miss with the pillars and only visible from behind the altar. Making his way over, Angel saw an old but solid wooden door lying on the floor, the hinges having been broken in what must have been a particularly strong quake, bits of stone lying around it. It left the passageway behind the door open. Steps led down into a dark cavern. Angel found a torch in a sconce just inside the door. He rooted around in the bag for a lighter and lit the torch. The flame cast an eerie glow into the gloomy passage, making shadows dance along the walls.

Carefully picking his way through the darkness, one hand on the torch, the other against the wall and the bag slung over his shoulder, Angel reached the bottom, and found himself in what appeared to be a much older looking room beneath the church, and one that was apparently unaffected by the earthquakes aside from the twisted passage and the badly damaged steps. Angel could feel the presence of strong magic, which probably explained why the room was so undamaged. The space he stood in was large and seemed to stretch on forever. Figures lined the aisle to the altar that stood at the far end of the chamber. Angel raised his torch.

"Great," he murmured, "more angel statues. And I thought the one outside was creepy."

These statues all held the same pose, hands covering their faces, heads bowed, but with small gaps between their fingers. All Angel could see between those gaps were dark shadows, but it gave him the disturbing sensation that they could see him. Each angel stood at the head of your characteristic, uncomfortable looking wooden pew. Red curtains with gold trim were draped across the walls. Angel began the long walk to the altar.

As he approached, the sensation of being watched grew and so did the presence of magic, draping itself around him, constricting him. Angel grimaced and kept moving forward. He sighed in relief when he reached the end of the pews and the angel statues and couldn't help glancing behind him to check that he was alone. Shaking his head at his own paranoia, he turned and surveyed the area around the altar more carefully.

The first thing he took note of was a huge cross covered in gold leaf hanging on the wall in front of him. He averted his gaze to see what he supposed was a baptismal font to one side. Walking up the two stone steps in front of him he walked over to the font and saw that it was half filled with holy water—at least he assumed it was holy water. That was part of what the ritual required that Wes said he'd be able to find here, and he wasn't going to stick his hand in it to make sure. A chalice and candles rested on the altar, and more candles sat in various stands around the room. Turning his attention to the flagstones, Angel quickly spotted the golden ring inlaid in the floor. Not far away from that he found a stone with an unusual symbol carved into it. The stone seemed loose.

Dropping the bag, he got down on his hands and knees and began prying the stone upward with a knife he had in his pocket. Grabbing a hold of the stone after raising it a fraction, Angel pulled it up and slid it to one side. A gust of wind blew up into his face and seemed to grow in intensity as it rushed through the room, causing the curtains to wave back and forth. The breeze whistled through the parted fingers of the angel statues. The noise became a mournful keening that quickly filled the chamber before slowly dying away into silence again.

Well that explains the weeping angels—sort of, Angel thought, slowly turning back to the box and shaking off the unsettling feelings that remaining in the church was giving him.

He opened the box and lifted out one of the items inside, a circular metal disc with a raised symbol on one side. He rubbed his thumb over the symbol, an inverted triangle with a horizontal line running through the triangle's base, the symbol for earth, one of the branding disks mentioned in the ritual for the full cleansing. It was warm to the touch. Angel placed the disc back in the box and pushed it aside. He unzipped the duffel bag and began removing the herbs and candles and other essential items to begin the ritual.

***

Buffy hopped up from her seat as Fred entered with an armful of folders, a couple of vials of sedative and a few samples of—something. When Fred struggled to get inside Buffy rushed over to help the head of the science department with her burden.

"Thanks. You think I'd be used to hauling stuff around with me by now but nope, still clumsy," Fred said, making her way to a nearby table and setting down the pile of stuff in her arms.

Buffy put the rest of Fred's haul on the table as well.

"Wow, I think I've carried fewer weapons to a final battle," she commented as she cast an eye over the spread of research material on the table.

"Oh, probably," Fred replied with a chuckle "I get so involved with stuff sometimes I seem to pile on the work. Right now I'm looking for anything that could help predict when a person gets affected and hopefully find a way to prevent or delay it."

"And?" Buffy asked.

"And, I got nothin' we can use yet," Fred said, her shoulders slumping, "but I'm still working on it.

"Well that's good," Buffy said, in an attempt to sound encouraging, "we could use all the help we can get right now."

Buffy glanced at Dawn again who was beginning to whimper and toss her head from side to side as if having a nightmare.

"That's why you and Spike are going to round up our rogue employees, right?" Fred asked, beginning to arrange her research into some form of order.

"Yep. Might as well be of some use. Not exactly used to bench warming when it comes to apocalypses and prophecies," Buffy said, turning back to Fred. "Speaking of Spike, any chance you know where he's gotten to?"

"Spike?" Fred asked, frowning, "he was on his way down here before me. I was wondering why he wasn't here actually. I thought maybe he'd gone to help security while you waited for me."

"No," Buffy said, frowning as well. "He hasn't come back yet."

"Maybe he went ahead and figured you'd meet up with him," Fred suggested, shrugging.

"Maybe," Buffy said, but she wasn't so sure. "I think I'll go look for him. He hasn't been acting like himself lately."

"You mean—" Fred began before Buffy cut her off.

"No, I don't mean that. I don't think it's the amulet, just—I'm gonna go find him, are you sure you're okay to stay here and look after them?" Buffy asked, gesturing to Dawn and Andrew.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Don't worry, I got it covered."

"Thanks," Buffy said, rushing for the door. "Oh, and you should probably…" she gestured at the door.

"Lock it behind you," Fred said with a smile and a nod "I got it."

Buffy nodded and disappeared out the door, heading for the lobby first and hoping she'd find Spike close by, preferably not gone crazy from the amulet, though she was more concerned it was something else. His complaint of a headache earlier concerned her and she'd be happier once she found him.

***

With the preparation of the ritual circle complete, the herbs still smoldering, the candles surrounding it in their proper places and flickering in the darkness of the chamber, Angel took the bag containing the shards of the amulet and poured them out into the centre of the circle. Tossing the bag aside, he gathered some dirt from the stone floor in his hand, sprinkling it over the amulet.

"With earth, I reconstruct this object. I solidify that which is broken."

The flames of the candles around him danced furiously and the shadows surrounding the circle seemed to elongate. Angel cast a wary glance at the large cross looming over him from its position on the wall. It seemed threatening in the eerie light. He decided not to look at the angel statues, not that he was scared. Turning would only feed his paranoia. Instead he focused on the next element.

He located the chalice he'd taken from the altar which he'd used to scoop up some holy water from the baptismal font and poured it over the shards, careful not to spill any on himself, wary of where it trickled off the shards.

"With water, I cleanse this object. I purify it of its darkness."

The shards of the amulet began to glow faintly and sizzle. Steam rose from the pile in front of him. Angel set aside the chalice.

At least it's a genuine ritual.

Next was fire. That was easy enough. He picked up a white candle, lit it, and tilted it, bending the flame towards the broken shards.

"With fire, I burn the evil from this object. I consume that which does not belong in flame," he murmured quietly.

The flame flickered and grew, engulfing the black shards of the amulet and Angel blinked at the unexpected rush of heat. He blew out the candle and placed it down, blinking to regain focus. Angel watched as the glow from shards increased slightly.

It was time for the final element; air. Trickier since he didn't actually breathe, but he figured it would work the same way even though his lungs wouldn't trade oxygen for carbon dioxide. He doubted that would matter for this. Bending lower, Angel sucked in a large breath and released it slowly over the amulet. The glow increased.

"With air, I breathe life into this object. I restore the energy that was taken from it."

The glow became a bright light that illuminated the circle and Angel shielded his eyes from it. When it had died down he blinked a few times to clear his vision, and found the amulet lying in front of him, no longer in shards. It was pulsing, and cracks were still visible. He had to complete the ritual soon or the amulet would eventually shatter and they'd be back to square one. Angel licked his lips and hesitated.

He knew what came next. This was the part where he was supposed to pour his blood on the amulet and bind himself to it, restoring the balance and putting a stop to the madness spreading at Wolfram and Hart. He pinched the bridge of his nose, everything that had happened since he'd accepted the job at the law firm to protect Connor running through his mind. He thought back to his past, everything he'd done, the pain he'd endured and the pain he'd caused others. He thought about those suffering right now because of what the amulet had done…what bringing Spike back had done. It was time, time to end it.

Angel pushed his thoughts away and reached for the next item required. He placed the wooden lid down and pulled out the disc with the earth symbol, placing it on top of a small fire he'd made next to him earlier, now hot enough for its purpose, careful to avoid letting his clothing catch fire. While he waited for the disk to heat, he shrugged out of his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, running through the incantation in his head.

He had only two buttons undone when something smashed into the fire, knocking the disc out of the flames and sending it rolling across the flagstones. Embers flared up and Angel jumped up to avoid them, stepping back out of the circle and narrowly avoiding knocking over the amulet. As long as everything else remained in order, the ritual would still work, but it wouldn't hold half finished for long. Angel spotted the hunk of rock that had been thrown at the fire and turned to face the darkened aisle of the church. A figure was walking towards him, drifting through the shadows. It stepped into the light and Angel snarled.

"Well, well, well. Lookie what I just found. A traitor caught red handed. I can't help but wonder what sorry excuse you have. I'm just dying to hear you talk your way out of this one, mate."

"Spike," Angel said, his eyes narrowing as the younger vampire came even closer, pausing just below the steps up to the altar.

"Oh come on. As if I'd miss the big show. Angel takin' one for the team," Spike said, sneering." Only that's not what it looks like from here."

Angel glared at his grandchilde, who glared right back. Performing this ritual was going to take longer than expected. Both vamps stared each other down, the tension mounting. Everything in the chamber became quiet and still.

"So," Angel began. "Here we are."

Buffy had been wandering up and down Wolfram and Hart for a while, but she still hadn't found any sign of Spike. She'd run into a few more psycho lawyers she'd helped security bring down, but was getting more and more worried with every Spikeless corridor she searched. Entering the lobby, Buffy paused for a minute trying to work out where Spike might have gone.

He knew the place better than she did, was it possible there were some secret rooms or offices in the building he'd have disappeared to? Buffy rolled her eyes at that thought. Of course there were secret areas of the building she didn't know about, but would Spike really have vanished without telling her where he was going or why? Everything had seemed fine with him earlier, except for his complaint of a headache.

"Buffy?"

Buffy looked up at the sound of Gunn's voice to see him headed her way, looking puzzled.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Oh, hey, Gunn. Um, you haven't seen Spike by any chance have you?"

"Spike? No, can't say that I have. He run off on you?"

"I don't know what happened. We were supposed to help security out, you know? Give us something to do while we wait for Angel to get the ritual done. He went to get Fred to watch over Dawn but he never came back. Fred said he left before she did but I can't find him anywhere."

Gunn nodded thoughtfully but eventually shrugged.

"I don't know what to tell you, Buffy, I haven't seen him."

Buffy sighed and glanced around again.

"That's okay, Gunn. Thanks. I'd better keep looking."

She watched Gunn walk away, took another look around the lobby and spotted the open door to Angel's office. It was a long shot, but maybe Spike got sidetracked messing with Angel's stuff again, which would be pretty juvenile of him, but he was still running high on energy.

She came up empty. There was no sign of Spike or anyone else in the office. She briefly thought about heading up to Angel's apartment, but couldn't see why Spike would have gone up there again.

"Where are you, Spike?" Buffy muttered to herself.

"Excuse me?"

Buffy turned to see a woman standing behind her, then realized she was the same woman Angel had stopped earlier and sent to get blood for him and Spike. Buffy racked her brain but couldn't remember the woman's name. Bridget? Beatrice? Something with a B anyway.

"If you're looking for the blond vampire, he left a little while ago," the woman said.

"Spike left? What do you mean he left? You saw him?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. He came rushing out of this office and headed straight for the elevator. He looked a little—preoccupied."

"Why would he leave?" Buffy wondered aloud. "Where would he go?"

"Why did you come here, Spike?"

"As if you don't know. Tell me, were you planning this all along, or was there a specific moment when you decided to say to hell with this city and everyone in it?" Spike asked, starting to pace slowly back and forth in front of Angel.

"It's not like that," Angel said with a growl, watching Spike warily.

"Oh it's not? So tell me, why exactly are you performing the ritual that ends with you Shanshuing while L.A. burns?" Spike stopped pacing, leveling Angel with a hard gaze. "Blood sacrifice. Binding one's self to the amulet. All parts of the ritual to restore balance, the one we all agreed is the only option."

Spike removed a piece of paper from his pocket and held it up. Angel's eyes were drawn to it and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Look what I found in your office, Gramps. The incantation with those words on it. Imagine my surprise when I read it and realized that if it was on your desk after you'd already left, it meant you had the other incantation with you, intending to perform the ritual that benefits you and leaves the rest of us to die."

"It doesn't just benefit me, Spike," Angel countered.

Spike laughed humorlessly, stuffing the paper back in his pocket then glaring at Angel.

"Well it certainly doesn't benefit anyone else in L.A. Doesn't benefit Dawn or Andrew or your employees. Certainly doesn't benefit the Slayer. You know, that was the biggest surprise really, because for all I think you're capable of something like this, selfish git that you are, I never thought you'd sacrifice Buffy for it."

Angel looked away at that then gritted his teeth and turned hard eyes back to Spike.

"You have no idea what this is about Spike. This isn't your city. For years I've done anything and everything I could to keep this place from becoming a living hell. The sacrifices I've made in the fight against evil—joining Wolfram and Hart, my enemies, all for the greater good."

"Doing a bang up job of it too, aren't you?"

"Shut up!" Angel bellowed, his expression furious. "You think just because you have a soul now, because you died to save the world once, you have a better perspective than I do? You know nothing about being a Champion. You don't even understand evil, no matter how much you pretend to. Evil is everywhere, Spike, and you can't win against it. No matter how much you fight, no matter how much you give for the cause it will always exist, and the Slayer, the Champions for the Powers—they won't even make a dent in the grand scheme of things."

Spike shook his head with an amused chuckle.

"Right, I don't understand evil. You think I don't know all that? That it's inherent in everyone? The only thing that divides the good people from the bad is restraint. Hell, I'm like the sodding poster boy for what happens when you forcefully restrain a truly evil creature. Behavior modification to prevent me from being what I truly am, a killer, until I started believing it myself—believing I could be better than that. Finally learned the difference when I got my soul. Evil's a part of me, always will be, same as you. 'Cept we're supposed to be keeping it on a leash. Explain to me, just how does killing everyone you've been trying so hard to protect change anything? All I see is a tired old sod giving up, finally giving in to his own nature."

Angel scowled and flexed his fists, glancing at the ritual circle and the still burning candles.

"It buys time," he answered at last.

"What?"

Spike frowned. Angel just wasn't making any sense anymore.

"The cleansing. The apocalypse is coming, Spike. Not just another big fight but the Apocalypse. We've been doing nothing but postponing it. It's not going to be enough. Everything I deal with—working at Wolfram and Hart, well, let's just say it changes your perspective on things. All the signs are pointing to the end being nigh sooner rather than later, and there's nothing we can do to stop it. But we can hold it off. Sure, innocent lives will be caught in the crossfire, but it will wipe out a good portion of evil too. The Senior Partners ran—which is unfortunate, but this will do enough damage to hold them off while they rebuild and make new plans. It gives those left behind more time to prepare."

"You're talking about reducing the city to ash! There won't be anyone left behind, and you'll be human. What good can you do then?"

"It's not about us! There's an army of Slayers out there now. They can take up the mantle, our time is over. Come on, Spike, you said it yourself. What gives the Powers the right to decide it isn't over for us? You made your sacrifice, Buffy's made plenty of hers, and I've made more than enough of mine. This city is home to some of the more powerful and influential demons working against us and this is the only chance we have to wipe them out."

"Are you even hearing yourself right now? You want to doom innocent lives, the lives of people you're supposed to care about to exterminate a few big bads. You're making less sense than when you tried to raise Acathla and kill us all."

"I couldn't expect you to understand, Spike. This has to be done. It's what's right—in the end."

Angel turned away and began walking back to the ritual circle. He made it two steps before he was knocked sideways and pinned against the wall, Spike's arm crushing into his windpipe. The younger vampire snarled and gave Angel a savage look, holding firm when Angel tried to pry Spike's arm away from his throat.

"I guess the time for talking is over then. You're wrong about this, Gramps. If you think I'm going to let you finish that ritual you're dumber than you look."

"Fine. You want to stop me?"

Angel punched Spike viciously in the gut, releasing Spike's hold on him long enough for Angel to throw him backwards where the blond fell on the altar, rolled off and onto the cold stone ground.

"Let's settle this."

"Wesley!"

Buffy rapped loudly on the office door anxiously waiting for the former watcher to answer her. The door swung open and she darted past the startled man into the office, quickly spinning to face him.

"You have to tell me where the church is."

"Sorry? Buffy, what's this about, is something wrong?" Wesley asked, removing his glasses and closing the door.

Buffy took a calming breath and began pacing, gesticulating with her arms as she explained the situation in a rush.

"Look, I don't know exactly what's going on but Spike's missing. I tried to find him but wasn't having any luck when that woman from earlier, the one who gave Angel and Spike the blood, told me she saw him leave Angel's office in a hurry and now he's gone."

"Gone?" Wesley repeated.

"Yes, gone—as in, left the building. I don't know why but I'm positive he went after Angel for some reason. It's the only explanation that makes any sense. Angel must have left the address behind or something."

"Why on Earth would Spike suddenly go there? He didn't mention anything to you?"

"No," Buffy said, running a hand through her hair. "But something must be up. Wes, please? I need to find out what's going on."

Wesley nodded and set his glasses down on his desk.

"All right then. I'll drive you."

Wes grabbed his coat and opened the door, gesturing for Buffy to go ahead. She did, throwing him a curious glance as she passed by.

"Are you a fast driver?"

"Well I'm not as fast as a vampire since I actually have to worry about dying in a crash," Wes said with a smile, "but I can get us there sooner rather than later. Don't worry, Buffy. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I sure hope so," Buffy said, following Wesley to the elevator, "because something about those two alone together worries the hell outta me."

The sound of breaking stone echoed noisily through the chamber as did the shouts and grunts of pain from the two vampires as they fought. Candlelight flickered in the unnatural breeze that whistled through the parted fingers of the angel statues and elongated the shadows of the two warriors as they twirled and punched, reeled and kicked.

Angel yelped as he was thrown through the air, crashing onto the altar so hard the stone cracked. He rolled off just in time to avoid the pale fist that smashed into the spot where his head had just been, widening the crack and sending dust swirling into the air.

Spike drew his fist back and blew the dust from it before hopping over the altar as Angel rose to his feet. The blond aimed a kick at his grandsire but the elder vamp deflected it and threw a right hook that caught Spike on the jaw and made his teeth clack together.

"You know you're just wasting your time," Angel said, backing up to where they had more space to fight. "You can't beat me boy, never could, never will."

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you," Spike answered, rubbing his jaw, "but things are different now."

Spike threw a punch with his left fist which Angel blocked, leaving him open for a second punch that made contact with the older vampire's kidney. Wrenching free of Angel's grip, Spike threw another punch that sent Angel's head whipping to the side, and split his lip in the process.

Angel retaliated with a roundhouse kick, forcing Spike to stumble sideways. Before Spike could turn around he found himself in a vicious headlock, Angel's arms forcing his head forward and crushing his windpipe. It hurt like hell, even if Spike didn't really need to breath.

"Nothing's different. It's the same old story, Willie. You throw everything you have at me without ever stopping to think things through, and every single time I beat you down. You never learn, Spike. How do you really think this will end? Because I can tell you right now, it won't be with me losing."

Spike was desperately trying to throw Angel off, but his grandsire had too strong a grip, and Spike couldn't get a solid blow in that would force the older vamp to let go. Being forced to his knees by the now crushing grip, Spike summoned all his strength into one more attempt, jerking them both sideways and forcing backwards until Angel was rammed against a corner of the altar, causing him to cry out in pain and let go of Spike.

Massaging his aching throat, Spike turned and stumbled back to a safer distance, glaring at Angel as the other vamp grabbed at his injured back, hissing in pain then leveling a menacing glare in Spike's direction. Spike coughed and grimaced before smirking back at Angel. Slowly, he straightened up and got back into a fighting stance.

"Things are different, old man. I'm different. This about more than just me and you. There are a lot of people that are gonna pay for it if I let you win, and I'm not about to let 'em down."

"A lot of people or just one person?" Angel asked.

"Both. Yeah, I'm leaning more towards one person, but that doesn't change what'll happen if I let you go through with this. I'm gonna win because it's what right, and no matter how many times you put me down, I'm not gonna quit."

"Well, well," Angel smirked, "looks like Spikey fancies himself quite the hero, when the truth is, you're anything but."

"Well we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Angel shrugged, groaning a little at the pain in his back.

"If you say so."

Angel was on Spike in a flash, leaping across the space between them in one powerful bound and knocking Spike backwards, both of them tumbling down the few steps of the raised altar and coming to a halt at the feet of an angel statue. Angel had ended up on top but Spike kicked him off and sprang to his feet a second later. Without pause, the blond spun and kicked at his grandsire again, but Angel anticipated the move and caught Spike's leg before it connected. With a smirk, Angel used his vampire strength to spin and throw Spike across the room. Spike slammed into the large cross hanging behind the altar and collapsed to the ground. A second later the cross followed him, falling on top of Spike and pinning him to the ground.

Spike grunted and bit back a shout as his skin began to burn, smoke rising from his coat the longer the cross remained on top of him. Above the sound of his sizzling flesh, he heard Angel laugh as he approached.

"Look at the almighty hero now. You're nothing but a monster Spike. It's what we are. You can prolong it all you like but in the end, we're both gonna burn. Excuse me if I try to make a difference before I fade to ash."

Spike grimaced as the weight of the cross kept him pressed to the floor. A couple more seconds and flames were gonna erupt from his skin. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Angel's polished black shoes turn and begin to walk away. It was a familiar sight. During those early days, Spike always seemed to find himself at Angelus' feet, usually after a beating. Rage swelled inside him. Gritting his teeth, Spike fought the pain and pushed against the heavy weight above him. He got to his knees and tipped the cross sideways so it fell off him, clanging to the floor. Angel paused but didn't look back.

"Spike," Angel started, his shoulders slumping, "you really need to learn when to quit. I don't have time for th—"

The cross slammed into Angel hard enough to send him soaring across the room to land with a loud crash into the wooden pews. Baring his teeth in a half mocking grin, half grimace of pain, Spike stood staring at the shattered pieces of wood, his hands stinging from the burning cross before he tossed it aside where the loud thud of it hitting the stone floor echoed throughout the chamber.

With a sniff, shaking off the pain in his hands, Spike stalked forward a bit keeping his eyes trained on the shadowy heap of splintered wood where Angel had landed.

"So did you dust or what?" he called out when nothing moved.

A hiss of pain echoed from the spot and Spike relaxed a little, unaware of how tense the silence had made him until Angel broke it. A dark shape rose from the pile and Angel's bloodied face turned to Spike.

Angel was clutching his left arm where a stake was buried, a piece of the broken pew that had lodged itself in him during his landing. Crying out in agony, he removed the stake, cursing when he pulled the last of it free of his arm.

"You're going to pay for that."

Spike grinned.

"Make me."

"Are you sure this is it?"

Buffy turned to look back at Wesley who was busy staring warily at the faceless angel statue outside. Buffy'd practically jumped out of the car when they arrived and flung open the doors of the church. Now, she was standing just inside those doors, staring at the very tilted, and very empty, church.

"Hmm?" Wesley asked, finally pulling his attention from the creepy statue to look at her, adjusting his glasses before removing them completely.

Buffy jerked a thumb in the direction of the church.

"This is the right place, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then why is it empty? Where are they? It's way too quiet, and it really doesn't look ideal for a ritual in here."

"Well," Wesley began, stepping up beside Buffy and casting his gaze across the room. "Perhaps there's more to this place than what we're seeing. It's certainly the right church."

Buffy scanned the room again herself and began making her way, as quickly as possible, over the rubble and down the slope to the altar. The sounds of slipping and sliding behind her told her Wesley was following. She was barely halfway into the church when there was a loud rumble and the ground started to shake. Dust and dirt began to shower down from the ceiling and an angel statue collapsed forward and shattered close to where Wesley was standing. Buffy lost her footing and fell, rolling down the slope. Wesley shouted her name when she slammed into a chunk of a broken pillar, hard. Just as suddenly as it had started, the trembling stopped, the groaning ceased, and but for a few remaining dust clouds, the church was still again.

Buffy hauled herself up using one of the pews and tried to locate Wesley. He'd managed to stay in the same spot he'd been in, but was rising to a normal standing position as well, having ducked down during the tremor.

"Earthquake?" she asked, coughing and brushing the dust off her jacket.

"Apparently. Are you all right?"

Buffy nodded and took another look around the room, blinking to clear her vision since her eyes had started watering from the dust. Over to the left, Buffy spotted what looked like the top of a large door lying on the ground near a sheltered corner. Ignoring Wesley's concerned shouts for her to be careful she hurried over to the spot and discovered the concealed stone stairwell which provided a way down below the church.

"Wes! I think I know where they are!" she called over her shoulder as she entered the corridor, keeping both hands on either wall as she took cautious steps forward.

"Buffy wait! Where are you? Wait for me. Ow. Blast. Buffy!"

Angel used Spike's distraction after the sudden earthquake to pin the blond vampire up against the baptismal font. Both traded yellow eyed glares as Spike fought to keep Angel's hand with the stake away from his chest. Angel snarled and pushed forward. Spike glanced at the stake then back to Angel and growled. Both of them were beaten bloody and exhausted. Neither could keep this up much longer.

There was a loud cracking noise and another angry rumble echoed through the chamber as a smaller tremor shook the ground. Both vampires turned their heads to look at the ritual circle. A vibrating white glow came from the amulet, accompanied by more ominous cracking sounds as the chamber began to shake. The ritual wouldn't hold any longer. It had to be finished or the amulet would be destroyed completely and they'd miss their one and only shot at fixing things.

Their feral gazes locked again. Somewhere a loud cry echoed through the chamber. Spike let go of Angel's arm and the stake began to plummet towards his chest. Angel was stunned by the sudden release of Spike's grip and stared at his arm as though mesmerized as the stake shot down. Pain stung his eyes like a thousand of fire ants were burrowing into them in the next second. Angel howled and flung himself backwards gripping his face. The stake clattered to the ground.

Spike stumbled towards the ritual circle, his left hand held in front of him, twisted like a disfigured claw as it blistered and bubbled from being plunged into the font of holy water. He ignored the pain, knowing Angel was feeling it more than him. Behind him, his grandsire continued to roar and curse as he writhed on the ground, clutching his steaming face.

Spike blinked as he drew nearer to the blindingly bright light pulsing from the amulet. Groaning, he sank to his knees before it and wearily took in the sight of the cracked and weakened crystal. Raising his right hand, Spike sliced his palm open with one of his fangs and held it over the amulet. He flexed his fist a few times to get the blood flowing more rapidly and watched as the dark red fluid began to spill over the glowing crystal. The pulsing light turned a violent red as the amulet began to absorb the blood and soon it ceased pulsing, becoming a steady beam of red energy illuminating the chamber.

His voice sounding cracked and hoarse, Spike finished the ritual.

"With blood of the impure, given as sacrifice, I taint this object. I bind myself to its power. With these elements I create balance. Let light and dark reign united. Let demon and soul be forever bound, and let this object's power be restored."

A loud keening began to echo through the chamber, increasing in volume until it became a piercing shriek that drowned out Angel's cries of pain and caused Spike to cringe and desperately attempt to cover his ears with his injured hands. The red drapes billowed wildly and the amulet's glow intensified, becoming blinding. His vision red and ears ringing painfully, Spike thought he was dying when suddenly everything stopped.

The light vanished, the noise died away, and the drapes settled quietly back against the walls. Spike looked down at the amulet and saw it nestled amongst the scorched herbs, whole, gleaming, and looking as clear as glass. The candles around the circle had been extinguished in the mysterious wind that had spiraled through the chamber as the ritual was completed.

Spike fell back in a heap, completely worn out, knocking a few candles over and causing them to roll down the steps of the altar. All he wanted to do was sleep. Footsteps behind him drew his attention however, and Spike turned his head awkwardly to see over his shoulder, unable to summon the strength to stand and turn.

He blinked, slowly, as the somewhat blurry figure continued walking closer until finally his vision cleared and he could recognize Buffy approaching. She stopped a few feet away.

"Slayer," he acknowledged, but had to pause to cough when his voice caught in his throat, still sore from all the choking he'd received. "'Fraid you missed all the fun this time, pet."

Buffy's eyes flicked over to Angel where he lay with his hands clutched to his face, moaning quietly. Her green gaze met Spike's again.

"I wouldn't say that."

Both vampires were bruised and bloody, their clothing shredded in places, and both had been burned horribly by the holy water, though as nasty and raw as Spike's hand looked, Buffy couldn't help but wince when she thought of Angel's eyes. He was no doubt blind, temporarily at least, and she couldn't imagine what it would feel like for them to heal. She was betting on agonizingly painful.

Spike looked like he was ready to pass out, but he maintained his solemn stare waiting for her to speak or move or react in any way at all to what she'd just witnessed. Buffy just stared back before glancing at Angel again. She wasn't quite sure how she should react. At the moment she was just sort of quietly stunned.

"What exactly did you see?"

Buffy faced Spike again and shrugged.

"Enough."

His gaze lowered.

"I'm sorry, Buffy."

"For what? You just saved us all…again."

"Still."

Those blue eyes looked at her again, sympathy evident in them.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Buffy said, feeling something in her chest clench. "Me too."

"Angel! What happened? Buffy? What's going on? Is the ritual—"

Buffy turned to see Wesley hurrying toward them, taking in the state of the chamber anxiously before focusing on Angel, who still lay crumpled on the ground. Wesley's steps increased until he was almost running.

"The ritual's done, Wes," Buffy answered as Wesley brushed past her and over to his boss. "Spike finished it. We're safe. For now."

"Spike finished it?" Wesley asked, confusion clear in his tone as he knelt next to Angel. "I don't understand. What happened? What did he do to Angel?"

"Oh that's right. Mean old Spike hurt Angel for no reason. Everything is Spike's fault. Did it ever occur to you, Percy, that your fearless leader might be the shady one, and that I did you all a sodding favor coming here?" Spike asked, bitterly. "No, of course it didn't."

"Spike," Buffy said, but couldn't think of anything else to follow it up with.

He was right after all. Naturally Wes would assume the worst of him and the best of Angel. Buffy was still having a hard time comprehending what Angel had tried to do. Spike just rolled his eyes and lay down on the ground with a groan, muttering to himself about "assumptions" and "ungrateful bastards". Yeah, he was pissed. Buffy tuned him out so she could explain things to an increasingly confused Wesley.

"Wes, Angel tried to perform the Cleansing instead of the Binding ritual. Spike came here to stop him, and before you ask," she held up a hand to stop the protest she knew was coming, "yes, I'm sure. I saw them fighting myself. And look," she pointed to the open box of brands lying a few feet away. "There's no other reason for him to have needed those."

"That's—no. No. Angel wouldn't have done that."

Wesley shook his head determined to deny the accusation, but then he looked at his employer curled on the floor in front of him and placed a hesitant hand on Angel's arm.

"Angel? Did you?"

There was no answer. Angel just rolled away from Wesley's hand and cringed in pain again.

Buffy decided there'd be enough time to mope later. Right now they needed to get out of here. Who knew what further damage had happened to the church after the ritual. The whole place was unstable and Buffy didn't want to get buried under a pile of rubble because they were sitting around dwelling on what Angel had almost done. Plus she wanted to check on Dawn.

"Come on, we're leaving."

Buffy walked over to Spike and held out a hand. Spike blinked wearily at it before reaching up to grasp it with his own. Buffy could feel the scar where his palm had been sliced open and was slowly closing. She helped pull him to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist when he stumbled. His body was trembling and he could barely stay upright.

"Hang on. We just need to make it to the car, okay?"

Spike nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground. Buffy saw Wesley still crouching next to Angel. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was emotionless—numb.

"Can you manage Angel on your own?"

That seemed to shake him back to reality. Wes nodded and stood, hauling Angel to his feet as well. He slung one of Angel's arms over his shoulder and held onto it, while his other arm rested around Angel's waist to steady him the same way Buffy was doing with Spike. Angel still had one hand over his face and tried to pull away but Wesley held firm.

"I have him. Let's go."

Angel stopped struggling and Buffy nodded. Taking it slow, she began to lead Spike down the steps of the altar. Getting up the dark stairwell wouldn't be easy but they'd manage somehow. Buffy stayed silent on their way out of the chamber. She didn't want to think about what had happened down there yet or what might have happened if not for Spike. Instead she thought about Dawn.

Please, Dawn. Please be okay. I'm coming back. We're coming back.

Buffy passed the group of workers sweeping up broken glass and sorting through broken furniture in the lobby with barely a glance. She headed straight for Angel's office and knocked. Gunn opened the door and looked at her in surprise. She walked past him into the room and saw Fred sitting on the arm of a chair and gave the woman a smile. Fred smiled back and stood up. She also looked a bit surprised. Lorne was sprawled on the couch opposite Buffy, looking decidedly less chipper than usual.

"Wesley's with Angel?" Buffy asked.

"Actually, I think he's in his office. He said he needed time to think." Fred replied.

Right. That made sense, she guessed. He'd had more time for it to sink in than the others had. After they got back, Spike and Angel had been sent to medical for the remainder of Wolfram and Hart's doctors to see to them. Wes and Buffy had filled the others in, repeating the story several times before the gang could absorb it. Buffy had left to visit Dawn and then Spike while the team were still arguing that Angel wouldn't do such a thing.

"Oh."

"Angel's been knocked out by a cocktail of strong sedatives so he's not talking yet," Gunn said.

"I know. I mean, I figured," Buffy replied, folding her arms. "That's not why I'm here. I wanted to check in with you guys and tell you we're leaving."

"Leaving?" Fred asked.

"Yeah. Well, not L.A. Not yet, anyway, but soon. We're leaving here. After everything—I just think we'd all be more comfortable in a hotel."

"I don't blame you. The things I've seen here the last few days, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to trust my stressed out P.A. again, not to mention the rest of the staff," Lorne put in.

"We're waiting for Angel to heal so we can talk to him. Are you gonna stick around for that?" Gunn asked.

Buffy looked at him. Did she want to see Angel again? Not really. But an explanation would be nice, if you could ever explain anything like that. Angel had a loyal team. A family. But would they stay with him through this? Did he deserve it if they did?

"I really don't know right now. Everything's—so screwed up. Honestly, I just want to take my sister and my friends and go home."

"What about Spike?"

Gunn's expression never changed but Buffy could sense his tension. Things had been more than a little uncomfortable when they got back to Wolfram and Hart. Angel's team didn't take the news about what their boss had tried to do very well, which was understandable—like she said, loyal.

Of course they also couldn't fathom that Spike had gone after Angel to save them and not because he was jealous or looking to play hero. Fred gave him the benefit of the doubt first which Buffy was grateful for, but it had definitely irked her to see the team's accusatory stares. They wouldn't be satisfied until Angel confirmed it himself.

"He'll be coming with me. He's in slightly better shape than he was when we got back, so moving shouldn't be too much of a pain."

"At least he's up walking by himself."

Buffy didn't need to be a mind reader to hear the 'unlike Angel' part Gunn had implied in his tone.

"Yeah, he's doing okay, considering," she said.

"Why don't you leave us the address and your cell number so we can reach you if we have to—or if Angel wakes up and you decide you do want to see him?" Fred offered.

"Thanks," Buffy said, wearily. "You can just call the hotel and they'll put you through. Somehow I don't think we'll be leaving our room."

At Fred's wide eyed look and Gunn and Lorne's stares, Buffy replayed what she'd just said in her head and felt her cheeks getting hot.

"Dawn and me," she blurted. "She's had a long day, and I haven't been sleeping well. Yeah, Dawn and I will probably crash straight away."

Shut up, Buffy. Babbling never helps, you know this by now, she berated herself.

"So, Fred, you got pen and a paper?"

Buffy quickly changed the subject.

"Ow! What was that for?" Andrew whined, rubbing the side of his head and frowning at Spike.

"What do you think?"Spike asked, irritated. "I can't believe I'm stuck sharing a bloody room with you. I'm supposed to be recovering."

"So? I'm not stopping you from getting better."

"Yeah, actually, you are. Healing usually involves bed rest, peace and quiet, and lots of blood. Not constant yammering, channel flicking, and bloody games of eye spy."

"I'm only channel surfing because I can't find anything good to watch, which was why I wanted to play eye spy which you refused to play."

"Why am I here again?"

"Because the hotel was fully booked and Buffy and Dawn are sharing a room so you have to share mine."

Spike glared at Andrew.

"I know that."

"Oh, was that one of those rhetorical questions?"

"Just toss me the remote. I'll find something to watch."

"No."

Spike glared at Andrew again. Andrew just pouted and crossed his arms in a huff. Spike clenched his jaw and stretched his neck trying desperately to hold onto his patience.

"Why?"

"Because last time I gave it to you, you threw it at me, remember? I think I can feel a lump."

"Well you're still yapping about it so you're not brain damaged. Give it."

"No."

"Look," Spike sighed and did his best not to scowl at his sulking roommate. "I promise I won't throw it at you this time, all right?"

"Accept a promise from a vampire? Why should I trust the word of a bloodsucking demon?"

"Because this bloodsucking demon is hungry and he's gonna tear out one of your arteries in a minute if you don't shut up and give him that remote."

Andrew's eyes narrowed as he passed the remote over grudgingly. Spike whipped it out of his hand and began flicking from one station to the next, staring only at the screen and ignoring the sulking young man sprawled on the bed next to his own.

"You don't even drink human blood anymore."

"I make exceptions for annoying little tossers who grate on my last nerve when I'm not feeling my best."

There was a blessed moment of silence broken only by quick bursts of sound from the TV whenever Spike changed the channel. It didn't last long.

"I've been through those ones. Look, there's the weather, followed by sports. That cooking show. Boating channel. Shopping channel. More sports. Golf. News. Music. Hey, go back to that cooking channel. I'm thinking of having a dinner party next week when we get back to Rome."

"I changed my mind. I don't want to watch TV."

Spike turned the telly off and tossed the remote across the room where it hit the wall and fell to the floor, the back falling off and the batteries rolling under the nearby desk.

"Now look what you did."

"I swear if I have to get off this bed and bite you before you'll shut up, I'll do it."

Spike sat up in the bed to show he meant it. Andrew shrank back a bit before sitting up as well. His mouth opened ready to retort and Spike was just about to swing his legs over the side of the bed when there was a knock on the door.

Andrew and Spike looked at each other. The knock came again. Spike raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Oh, so I have to get the door even though you were about to attack me?"

A growl was Andrew's response and he scurried off the bed and over to the door, flinging it open. Spike sighed and settled back on the bed, scowling. He really didn't think he could take a whole night with Andrew.

"Buffy, hey. Welcome to our humble abode. Please, impart your Slayer presence across our threshold."

Was it possible to strain your eyes from rolling them? Spike whacked his head back against the wall with a loud thump, hoping to knock himself out. It was the only way he could endure any more of this torture.

"That's an odd way to get better."

Spike opened his eyes to see Buffy standing over him, a smile on her face, hair brushed back into a ponytail and wearing a blue blouse with black pants and shoes. He could smell shampoo and shower gel, but not the familiar ones she used to use. More than likely it was the hotel's brand. She sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, leaned in and ran her fingers through his hair. Spike closed his eyes again, this time in bliss. If ever there was a way to make him feel better this was decidedly it.

"How you doing?" she asked, softly.

Spike looked at her and smiled.

"Not gonna lie. Shoving my hand in holy water was a really bad idea, not that I regret it, and I'm sure there's a few bones that haven't set right yet but I'm healing."

"You're all black and blue still, in case you wondered."

"This'd be the part where I say 'you should have seen the other guy' except you already did."

"Yeah." Buffy lowered her eyes and removed her hand from his hair, though he was reassured when it came to rest lightly on his shoulder instead.

"How's he doin' anyway?"

"Gunn said he was still out of it when we left. They have him pretty heavily sedated."

"I wonder what kind of tranquilizer they'd use on a vampire? Horse? Elephant? Or just regular ones for humans, because that sounds dangerous. Buffy, you were knocked out with drugs before, what do you think they used?"

Spike and Buffy both turned to glare at Andrew. He'd been resting against the still open door, watching them dreamily before asking the question, and now shifted uncomfortably at their combined disapproving looks.

"What?"

"Hey, Andrew. Just who I was looking for."

Dawn appeared behind Andrew, grabbed hold of his arm, and began dragging him outside and down the hallway. Buffy stood up and watched from the doorway as her sister dragged Andrew away, giving Buffy and Spike the time alone she'd been hoping for.

"Come on. We're going to pick up some lunch for everyone and get more bagged blood for Spike. We'll see you guys later!" she called back as she shoved Andrew into an elevator down the hall.

Buffy smiled, shook her head and closed the door. She walked back to Spike who sighed in relief and slid down in the bed a little, relaxing into the pillows he'd had propped behind his back. She sat down on the edge of the bed again and looked at his bandaged hand. She reached out, her hand hovering above the bindings for a second before she saw Spike watching her.

"Are you sure you don't want more painkillers? That has to be agony."

Spike turned his bandaged hand so it was lying palm up on the bed next to him just under her hand. Buffy watched him, hesitated, but at his nod of encouragement laid her hand gently atop his. So gently in fact, he barely felt the pressure against his bandages.

"It's nothing I can't bear. It burns like…well acid, but it'll heal soon enough. Skin's already starting to grow back. Some more rest and blood and I'll be fine in a few days. 'Sides," he gave a small shrug and smiled up at her, "It's a pain I'm proud of. That and I don't want to miss out on spending time with you or Dawn."

"And Andrew?" Buffy asked, grinning.

"Andrew I can take in small doses, but minus painkillers it becomes infinitely harder. I think I could stand to miss out on his input for a while."

Buffy yawned and covered her mouth, looking sheepish.

"Tired, pet?"

A little. You'd think I'd be used to lack of sleep by now but—I guess the last few days have really taken their toll."

"Why don't you lie down and rest until the others come back?"

Buffy eyed Andrew's vacant bed across from her before rubbing sleepily at her eyes.

"You're probably right. I just like spending time with you now you're back. It's been so long and—it might sound silly knowing you're coming back to Rome with us, but I don't want to miss being with you even to sleep just yet. If there's one thing being the Slayer has taught me it's that life is short and people can vanish from your life without warning."

"Life in general could teach you that, luv, but I know what you mean. Still. I promise I'm not going anywhere. You should sleep. So should I while I have some peace and quiet."

"Oh." Buffy stood, brushing her fringe out of her face. "Sorry. You need rest too. I didn't mean to keep you up."

"Buffy, I'm not asking you to go," Spike cut in quickly before she could back away. "You can stay here."

"You're sure?"

Spike nodded, smiling at her again. "Positive."

Buffy smiled back and glanced over her shoulder at Andrew's bed again.

"You know," Spike caught her attention again, "you could stay here," he slid over to the far side of the bed slowly. "'S bigger than that old cot at least. If you wanted, of course. I'm not—"

Buffy grinned at him. "I'd really like that, Spike."

Spike sighed in relief. "Right then."

He held out his arms and Buffy moved back to the bed. Sitting on the edge she pulled off her shoes and swung her feet up onto the covers. With a little shimmy, she snuggled in next to Spike and lay back, letting him wrap his arms around her. Turning onto her side, she rested her head against his shoulder and placed one hand on his chest, where she would've felt his heart beating if he was human.

Spike turned his head and placed a tender kiss on her head. Buffy closed her eyes, savoring the moment. The last time they'd done this had been in the basement back in Sunnydale on their last night together. She never thought she'd have this again, and what was worse was that she'd only realized how deeply she loved him as he stood dying, going up in flames as a champion. Swallowing back a sudden lump in her throat she reminded herself that those days were over. He was here.

As though he had read her mind, Spike tightened his grip on her just a little, and the feel of his arms around her soothed her, until soon she relaxed and lay drifting, on the cusp of sleep. The last thing she was conscious of was a whispered promise that she wouldn't have to feel alone anymore.

Fire. It consumed her vision. Warm, bright fire covered their hands, but it didn't burn as expected. It felt inviting. She was drawn to it. Things clicked into place, and for the first time, Buffy felt—complete. His hand clasped in hers felt right. Buffy realized she didn't need to run anymore. Her heart wasn't meant to be guarded.

You love with all your soul. It's brighter than the fire…blinding.

Yes, she'd been hurt in the past, and yes, life was brutal—but this—this was what made it worth living.

Risk the pain.

Yes. It was worth risking. Pain made her who she was, shaped her, made her stronger.

The Slayer forges strength from pain.

Love was pain—but it was so much more than that too, and she had so much love to give. How could she have hidden from it for so long? She had to say it. She had to share this with him. He'd brought this to her through his love—and now, she could return it.

'I love you.'

Oh God, it felt right to say that. The Earth was shaking. The rumbling around them grew louder. Dust and dirt swirled through the air but couldn't block the beam of light cutting a path through the darkness. Nothing could extinguish this fire.

Love will bring you to your gift.

Her gift…her gift was…but…

'No you don't—'

But I do! I really do!

'but thanks for saying it.'

No! I—I—wait!

'Now go!'

But—

The rumbling increased. She lost her footing. Her hand slipped free from his and the feeling of safety, of warmth, vanished. Tremors shot through her. The ceiling was caving in. No!

"Buffy?"

"Spike. Spike, don't. I want to stay," she mumbled, her voice sounding groggy.

Where was she? The light had vanished, and she felt so heavy…

"Not kicking you out, luv. Come on, wake up, sweetheart. You're dreaming, that's all. Come back to me."

"Want to—come back to you. Don't want to leave at all."

Buffy slowly opened her eyes, blinking to let them adjust to the dim light of the room. So, she'd just been dreaming again. Only—someone was holding her when she woke up this time. Spike.

She focused on his face to see him smiling down at her. She was still cradled against his chest though her arm had snaked its way around his waist and her legs were now wrapped up in his. He pushed her fringe away from her face and she closed her eyes when his cool skin brushed against her forehead.

"How long was I out?"

"Not too long. Couple of hours, maybe. Heard Dawn and the boy come back earlier but they scarpered again before I was fully awake. Heard your sis say something about a movie she wanted him to watch with her."

Buffy smiled and snuggled against him again, wanting nothing more than to let sleep overtake her once more.

"I had a good sleep until the dream. Have you been awake long?"

"Nah, passed out again after Nibblet and Andrew left. Woke up again a few minutes ago." His voice was quiet, as though he was trying not to disturb her even though she was awake.

A rumbling noise interrupted Buffy's next question and she opened her eyes. When the noise came again, more of a growl this time she realized it was Spike's stomach. She smirked up at him.

"Hungry?"

"A bit, yeah. They left us take out when they stopped by and as unappetizing as blood is cold, the smell gets hard to avoid when you're hungry."

Reluctantly, Buffy untangled herself and sat up.

"Well, let's not leave you to starve. Hang on. I'll get the lights and the food."

Flicking on the light switch, Buffy blinked in the suddenly bright room and located the shopping bag containing blood and brought it over to Spike. She found the bag of Chinese food Dawn had left for her next, and only then realized how hungry she was. When had she last eaten anyway?

"What were you dreaming about?"

"You," Buffy answered, settling down on the end of Spike's bed cross-legged when he made room for her so they could face each other while they ate. "The Hellmouth. Leaving you."

"All in the past, luv. We're here now."

"Yeah." She smiled at him, happily. "We are."

In companionable silence they began to eat. Buffy heard the crunch as Spike's face shifted and the snick of the bag as he tore it open with a fang. She was just tucking into her own food when she glanced at Spike and saw him frowning at his bag of blood, a smear of the red liquid across his lips.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Not sure just—something different about this blood."

"Different." Buffy was frowning now, puzzled. "Different how?"

"Like—no, maybe not. I'm probably imagining it. Haven't had cold blood in too long is all. Angel doesn't like the cheap stuff anymore either. Can't compare that to this."

"What? You're getting fussy after tasting Angel's premium brand of animal blood?" Buffy smirked then paled considerably. "It was animal blood wasn't it? He wasn't lying about—"

"Relax, pet, he's not snacking on the populace again, though I can't blame you for asking. It just tasted very different, that's all. Actually I can't really put my finger on what his supply was. Been so long since I tasted blood at all I never noticed anything was odd about it until I got a taste of the regular butcher's blood again."

"Spike," Buffy said, lowering her carton of food, "if you can't identify what Angel's been eating—"

"Relax. It can't be that bad. I drank from the same source twice already and it didn't have any negative effect on me."

"Other than you turning into a four year old and messing with Angel's stuff? No, no negative effect."

Spike threw her an un-amused look. Buffy held up her hands in a placating manner.

"Okay, sorry. I know, excess energy. But other than that you felt okay? There was that headache before, and you were acting a little out of sorts. Of course after everything you went through that was to be expected."

Spike seemed to be thinking. He took another couple of sips from the bag of blood, licked his lips and thought some more. Buffy totally hadn't watched his tongue swiping over that full bottom lip while his attention was elsewhere. Nope. And she totally wasn't still staring at his mouth either. The split lip he'd had earlier was almost fully healed. She could barely see the mark now.

"The more I think about it, the more I'm starting to see your point."

"Huh?" Buffy asked, jumping a little when he started speaking to her again.

"I can't tell what it was, but something was off about that blood. I felt—anyway, we can't tell much from how I was feeling after everything, but something wasn't right with Angel. I hate the bastard, no use sugar-coating it, but he doesn't do stuff like this, not while he's all soulful anyway. He can be selfish, he can act rashly, he can act like the world is ending, but he doesn't go out of his way to kill people for an easy reward. Part of my problem with him is that he refuses to take the easy way out when it's been handed to him."

"Such as?" Buffy asked, skeptically.

"The ring. The Gem of Amarra. He had a way to walk in the sun and he rejected it."

Buffy ignored the stab of pain she felt at hearing that. It was an old wound, but knowing how she'd been rejected several times in the past never got easier.

"So what?" she asked, focusing on the topic at hand, "you think someone's been spiking Angel's blood to make him act this way?"

"As much as I loathe him, I know him well enough to know he wasn't right when he did this. Working at Wolfram and Hart changed him, only now I'm starting to think there's a reason for that other than his ego."

Buffy's shoulders slumped and she sighed. "We need to go back, don't we?"

Spike nodded. "We need to be sure, Buffy. Right now, it's just a guess, but if someone's causing this we need to tell the others so they can find out who's doing it and why—and, I've been thinking—"

"What?" Buffy asked, worried.

"I want to see Angel. I want to talk to Angel."

"Hey, Harmony. Back working already?" Buffy asked, pleasantly.

The blonde secretary jumped and looked up at the Slayer, startled.

"Buffy! Wasn't expecting you back so…well, ever."

Harmony offered Buffy a nervous grin before her eyes darted to Spike who had just walked up behind Buffy. He was limping a bit, his face was still bruised and he clearly felt pain when he moved. He gave Harmony a small nod and turned his attention immediately back to Buffy.

"Spike," Harmony said, taking in his injuries and attempting to look disinterested in his presence. "I didn't expect to see you here either. What are you guys doing here?"

"We need some of Angel's blood."

Harmony cocked her head, her nose wrinkling in confusion.

"Huh? Buffy…You may be the Slayer and all but you don't have any authority here to go stealing blood from the C.E.O. of Wolfram and Hart."

"I don't want to steal his blood; we just need to examine his personal food supply."

"Oh." Harmony perked up at that, plastering on a fake smile and nodding as though she finally understood.

Buffy waited then raised her eyebrows when Harmony continued to stand there staring at her blankly.

"So?"

"Oh, I still can't get it for you."

"Why not?" Spike asked.

"I can't go handing out the boss' blood to visitors or to anyone who hasn't been approved by him. He made sure to specify that last part after I gave you some last time."

"Is there a problem here?"

All three turned to Gunn who'd walked over after spotting Buffy and Spike. He looked puzzled but wary and Buffy felt her spirits sink. Of all the members of Angel's team to have to explain this to it had to be the one most hesitant to suspect his boss of betrayal. Where was Fred or Wesley when you needed them?

"Gunn, this probably isn't something we should discuss out here. Why don't we head to your office or something so we can explain?"

"There's something you need to explain?" Gunn asked, folding his arms and looking increasingly suspicious. "Because from where I'm standing you seemed perfectly happy discussing whatever it is you wanted with Harmony. That doesn't seem very discreet."

"Hey!"

Gunn ignored the offended vampire in favor of staring down Buffy and Spike. Harmony then decided to prove just how non-discreet she was.

"They wanted some of Angel's blood, as in his food. I wouldn't give it to them," she added, proudly.

"Is that so?"

Gunn took a deep breath and gave Buffy and Spike a stern look. Buffy was too busy glaring at Harmony to pay attention to it, while behind her Spike just sighed. When Gunn cleared his throat, annoyed, Buffy finally gave him an answer.

"Gunn, please? Can we talk about this somewhere private? Not for our benefit but for Angel. You really want to discuss what happened in the open? I know you and your team are running this place, but I know you don't completely trust everyone who works here either."

Gunn relented, nodding and leading the way to his office. Buffy shared a relieved glance with Spike who smiled back. As they followed Gunn down the corridor, his hand brushed against hers and Buffy entwined her fingers with his, giving his hand a small squeeze. She hated being back in this building, but they were doing the right thing, and they were doing it together.

Once inside the office, Gunn closed the door behind them, the click echoing through the room. He then turned to them, folded his arms again and waited for their explanation. Buffy opened her mouth but Spike beat her to it.

"Long story short, Charlie, we have reason to believe Angel's blood has been tampered with. I'm not sure with what but after finally getting the stuff I've been used to I realized Angel's supply has definitely been laced with something. Depending on what it is and how long he's been drinking it could explain why he—did what you don't want to believe he did."

Buffy side eyed Spike who was daring the other man to deny that last statement. Gunn, for his part, looked none too pleased but kept his mouth shut. Buffy grew tired of the staring contest fast.

"Look, all we want is to get another look at Angel's blood to see if Spike's right. Are you really going to risk Angel's health for the sake of protocol?"

"You're asking me to trust the word of the only other ensouled vampire who could perform that ritual, who also blinded my boss. You only saw the end of their fight, Buffy. You don't know what really went down, and I won't trust him on faith alone. Until Angel tells me he tried to take us out so he could be human, I'm going to go ahead and be a skeptical as I want. Excuse me."

Gunn made to open the door and Spike rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. Buffy hurried to intervene, hating the almost begging tone she had to take to make Gunn even listen to her. She'd much rather do this the Slayer way and just take the blood by force, but she was in Angel's territory and she was trying to play nice. Still, she had no qualms about doing it the Slayer way if the mature Buffy way failed.

"You don't have to trust us if you don't want to, but we're doing this because—" Buffy faltered and Gunn raised an eyebrow, curious. "Because—we care," Buffy finished, knowing how stupid that sounded, how stupid she felt saying it, and yet it was true.

Behind them Spike snorted. Buffy flashed him a scowl but otherwise ignored it. Gunn shook his head, mumbling about 'lame ass excuses.'

"Oh for God's sake just test the damn blood," Buffy said, exasperated. "Fred can prove once and for all if there's something wrong or if Spike just imagined it. That way, you're not taking our word for it and you'll have proof that—Angel could be in danger."

And he'll have a convenient excuse for his shitty decision at the church, not that it completely puts him in the clear, she mentally added.

Gunn wavered then finally relented with a sigh. Buffy quickly hid a smile of victory when he nodded at her and opened the door.

"All right, fine. We'll get Fred to test a sample and see if you're right. If you're wrong though, I want you both out of here, understood?"

Buffy frowned, not liking the sudden hostility. Gunn might not want to believe their story but facts were facts, and she wouldn't be treated like the bad guy when out of the two of them, she wasn't the one working for a notoriously evil company.

"Hey. You can't just—"

Closing the door again quickly so no one could hear their spat, Gunn cut her off.

"Oh I can, and I am. You and Angel have history, I get it, but from what I've heard and seen all you do is hurt each other. Nothing good ever comes from either of you two being near each other and now is worse than ever. You're the Slayer, but you don't have authority here. You two aren't a couple anymore and haven't been for a long time. In fact, you've spent the last few days walking around his building with your new sweetie-bear at your side. It hasn't helped whatever it is he's going through lately. He's been on edge, taking over in here, handling the company while fighting for good—the last thing he needs is having you two around."

"Spike didn't choose to be sent here and if I had my way we'd be back in Rome already. I have a duty to help people, and right now that includes Angel. You'll have to face up to what he did eventually, Gunn, because it is not my fault or Spike's. All that's on Angel and whoever might be pulling his strings."

"Regardless. If he really is being screwed with, seeing you two won't help, and neither will knowing you're still here. There's no debate about this. We get the facts, you leave. That's the deal."

Buffy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Gunn was effectively kicking her out of L.A. He was kicking her out. Jerk. Gritting her teeth, Buffy held back a retort and fought to keep calm. She was planning to leave here anyway. They weren't kids on a playground fighting over the sandbox, though that's what it felt like. She'd be civil and agree to the terms, though they wouldn't be leaving after they got the lab results. They had another pit stop first.

"Fine."

Gunn seemed surprised that she'd relented so quickly, giving her a suspicious look before leaving the office without looking back, letting them choose to follow him or not.

Spike patted her shoulder and Buffy relaxed against him.

"Best leave it, luv. Charles is on the warpath, and will be until Angel's on his feet and talking again."

Buffy pouted.

"Yeah, well this being mature thing still sucks. I like it when I can hit the people that piss me off."

Spike's eyes seemed fixed on her mouth for a moment before he smiled.

"No one ever said being a grown up was fun. I have plenty of years on me but it doesn't make me mature."

Buffy stared at his blue eyes and the way the corners crinkled up a little when he smiled. The look he'd given her when he'd focused on her mouth, like he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, had affected her deeply. She really needed time alone with him, even if the thought made her nervous. They'd screwed up so many times, and she really couldn't stand for things to go wrong between them again. Still, this wasn't the time or place to be thinking about that, so shaking her head to clear it of those thoughts, she grabbed his hand again and walked with him to the lab.

It took a long time to get the results and Buffy was getting edgy. She was growing tired of Gunn's cold shoulder and the doom and gloom Angel's team was immersed in, and being so close to Spike and unable to talk the way she wanted to was pissing her off. Spike had taken a sniff of the blood but couldn't be sure it was different, though tasting a little bit had resulted in a confirming nod that "somethin's not right". So, they were waiting.

Fred was being thorough, not wanting there to be any doubt. Wesley had seemed a little bit perkier at the prospect that Angel was being used, which could explain his actions, but still seemed to be wallowing in depression. That or he had spent far too long around Angel and the broodiness was wearing off on him.

"All right," Fred said suddenly, drawing everyone's attention. "The tests are positive. There are unusual trace substances of something in the blood. Whatever it is, it's demonic in origin, possibly venom. I'm still waiting for the results to ID it."

"That proves it then. Someone's been influencing Angel in some way," Wesley said, thoughtfully. "Spike, you can't pinpoint what the venom might have done?"

Spike shook his head.

"I only drank the stuff twice and I was all over the place as it was at the time. I wouldn't know if it was the blood or being yanked back to my body that caused any unusual behavior."

"True. Angel could have been drinking this for months, maybe even as long as he's worked here. He would have been affected more severely than you if that's the case."

"Hold up. If Angel's been drinking this for so long how come he didn't notice anything unusual about the taste the way Spike did?" Gunn asked.

"How long's it been since Angel got pig's blood from a regular butcher?" Spike shot back.

He had a point.

"In any case," Wesley cut in before Gunn could start another argument, "it's likely the doses started out small, making them undetectable since they have no odor. Once Angel became accustomed to it they could then increase the demon essence and its effects over time."

"How long until you can ID the substance?" Buffy asked Fred.

"Not long. The list of culprits is already pretty narrow."

"Okay then. We'll leave once you have the information you need to start a search for the culprit."

Fred and Wesley looked at her in surprise. Gunn leaned against the wall, satisfied. Before they asked any questions, Buffy informed them about the little detour she and Spike would be taking.

"This is your territory and your suspects. If you need help, we'll give it but it shouldn't be necessary with your resources. Until then, Spike and I have to pay a visit to Angel."

"No," Gunn said, straightening.

"Yes," Buffy argued. "This isn't up for discussion. I know. Your house, your rules, but this is important. We're not trying to antagonize him but he needs to be informed, and we're saying our goodbyes. That's all. It's courtesy. I'd like to think I'd be paid in kind if it were the other way around."

There was silence in the room. Gunn, Fred and Wesley exchanged looks. Buffy figured they were probably thinking the same thing she was; she wouldn't be treated to that kind of courtesy, as showcased by the secret stalker episode back when she was in Rome. Without waiting for a response, Buffy turned to Spike who stood up and together they left the lab and headed to Angel's apartment where he was recovering.

Outside the elevator in Angel's office, Spike placed a hand on Buffy's shoulder, drawing her attention.

"What's up?" she asked. "Are you having second thoughts about this?"

"No. I still want to talk to him but…" He sighed. "I think I should go alone."

"Alone? Why? What are you up to?" Buffy asked, suspicious.

"Nothing, I promise. It's just—we have history together—"

Buffy quirked an eyebrow in disbelief, folding her arms.

"I know, you do too, but—much as I hate admitting it, Angel and I…we're similar in terms of what we've been through and what we've done. Just a tiny bit though. Still ninety-five percent complete opposites."

That earned him a grin, but just for a second.

"Charles had a point, Buffy. Seeing us two together won't help Angel, and while I'm the first to get satisfaction out of seeing him suffer, right now he's vulnerable to some sort of demon juice and it—well it just wouldn't be any fun; well it would, but I guess that fully formed conscience I developed with the soul is just telling me to save it for later. The last thing we need is him going suicidal or evil on us again. I also want to talk to him about the church and working here. I've had a bit of perspective on it and it's something I should talk to him about before I leave."

"So that's it? No fighting, no arguing? You won't be at each other's throats when left in a room together?"

"We'll manage. Scouts honor."

Buffy snorted.

"Yeah, like you were ever a scout. Fine. Go. Do your man to man or vamp to vamp chat or whatever. I'll just…stay here…sit in the C.E.O.'s chair in an evil law firm and try not to slay anything…including Harmony but no guarantees."

Spike gave her a kiss on the forehead and pulled her in for a hug which she gladly returned. When he pulled back, he caressed her cheek and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Thanks, luv. When we're done talking you can go up and say your goodbyes or whatever afterwards by yourself, okay? I'm sure you two have some things to say to each other. When all this is over we'll fly back to Rome and work out where we go from there. I've been dying to have you to myself for a while so we can—talk."

Buffy shivered slightly but not from the cold. She looked at him, and he could see that her pupils were dilated. She used one hand to pull him down for a quick kiss on the cheek, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth as she drew back. Now it was Spike's turn to shiver.

"Hurry back," she whispered, before stepping out of his arms to stand a few feet away.

Spike would much rather have walked out of this Hellhole with her and back to their hotel, but he'd come here determined to speak with his grandsire and it was something he felt he had to do. So, pushing his feelings for Buffy down to be dealt with later, he called the elevator and stepped inside, watching her disappear as the door slid closed.

Angel's room was more depressingly dark than usual. He didn't have the low mood lighting that normally accompanied his private brooding space. Though it was to be expected when you were growing a new pair of eyes, Spike suspected. Angel was lying in bed, but raised his head a fraction when Spike entered the room. Spike paused a few feet from the foot of the bed. Seconds passed and Angel stiffened then sighed and rose to a sitting position, propping the pillows up against his back.

"Spike."

His voice held only indifference and Spike could tell he was frowning beneath the bandages.

"Angel."

"Is there a reason you're here? Other than to gloat?"

Spike shoved his un-bandaged hand in his pocket and shrugged, forgetting Angel couldn't see the gesture, and glanced at the closed blinds of the window that normally offered Angel a panoramic view of the city.

"I'd prefer that you'd be able to see if I was gonna shove my recent good luck in your face."

"Then I guess you shouldn't have blinded me," Angel replied, testily.

"Had to."

The tension in the room rose. Spike remained stubbornly silent until Angel grunted, asking the next question reluctantly.

"You're here for an explanation then? What I said in the church hasn't sunken in? What do you want me to say? That I failed? That I wasn't a hero? That I acted rashly?"

"I'd say it was a damn sight more than rash, mate," Spike interrupted.

"Fine! I was. I can't change what I did. There's no point in apologizing for it either. What's done is done. Unless you're here to finish the job and stake me, get out."

"You regret it then?" Spike asked, tilting his head as he tried to assess his grandsire. "You can't change it—but given the opportunity…"

"I don't want to talk about what ifs. It won't change anything. I…gave up on myself…on everyone."

Angel lowered his head, trailing off. He was wallowing in his own misery. Probably had been for a while if he'd had a chance to think clearly.

"You been drinking plenty of your high quality blood to heal?"

"You're concerned for my health?" Angel asked. When Spike didn't answer, Angel shook his head and answered the question. "A little, but not as much as I should be. Haven't felt that hungry knowing what I almost did—what you stopped me from doing. Oh yeah, and the agony of having my face melted by holy water spoiled my appetite just a tad."

"Sarcasm's still intact though. Bright side to everything, if you look hard enough," Spike couldn't help but taunt.

Angel growled threateningly. Spike traipsed over to the window, spread the shutters enough to peer out at the bright lights of the city before letting them snap shut again, deciding to get to the point and have this over with.

"Believe it or not I'm not here to fight, or to gloat. Here to help, actually."

"Helping the helpless, huh? Well thanks but no thanks. I don't need help from you."

"Mm, but you've got it all the same. See, I just saved your pasty arse—again. Your crew of merry men and one merry woman with a masculine name are currently working on tracking down the orchestrator of your not so little meltdown."

"What are you talking about? What orchestrator?" Angel asked, agitated.

"Your blood's been tampered with. Who knows for how long? I couldn't shake the feeling that somethin' tasted off about it, and the way you've been acting lately—well, it's just not you, so we came here to confirm if I was right. Turns out I was. You've been ingesting demon venom. Not sure what it's done to you exactly but it's messed you up good and proper."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know. Never fun realizing you've been jerked around is it? Someone out there's got it in for you, and they're being sneaky about it. Course, your list of suspects has got to be pretty long. You can scratch my name off though. I have better things to do with my time."

"Like you'd be cunning enough to pull it off anyway."

Spike scoffed.

"Who needs to be cunning? You're so far up your own arse right now, you're blind to what's going on under your own damn nose. I'll bet you a basket of Siamese you'll find the culprit working under this very roof."

"You think it was the Senior Partners?"

"It's highly likely. But then you've been their poster boy lately, haven't you? Once you play by their rules. Don't think they'd fancy you tryin' to cleanse L.A. of all evil though. Not really in their favor. Still, I'd look inside the company. Whoever it is has easy access to you and that won't end well."

"So the gang's looking into it. You warned us like a real hero…I'm not thanking you."

"Didn't think you would."

"Good. Was there something else or can I sleep now?"

"Actually, yeah, there is somethin' else," Spike said, walking to the foot of the bed, annoyed with Angel's cold tone, not that he'd expected any less. "You may have a tidy little excuse for what you tried to do now but we both know it wasn't all down to demon juice. You were always a cynic, Liam, at least until the soul, but this—it's like you're trying to push people away, like you've given up. What happened to you?"

"Like you'd understand. You've had your soul for how long? You haven't dealt with half of what I have. You haven't made the sacrifices—"

"What sacrifices? Angel? What? You have a team who'd follow you to Hell and back, literally if they had to. You have friends, a life. You've got the world at your feet here, regardless of how you got it and you don't bloody see it! This is what pisses me off about you. Well, it's one thing on a very long list, but this is high on that list. You always have to focus on what you haven't got, what you failed to achieve, and you blind yourself to everything else."

"Not funny, Spike!"

"I'm not trying to be funny, you sod. Poor choice of words, but it's still true. You don't appreciate the team you have. This place is taking you over, and that's what's tripping you up. Hell, it's affecting everybody you brought in here. One of you should have twigged something was up. They know you. Not the way I do, but they know you as a champion, and you're telling me they couldn't see that you were changing? They weren't even slightly worried? But then, they're all busy with their own problems dealing with their departments now."

"I've explained this. We're—"

"Don't," Spike snapped, exasperated. "You're not changing anything from the inside, not the way you're working now. You want to make a difference? Then start acting like it. Stop playing by their rules and make your own. You have power? Prove it. Because you're losing the few friends you have left. There's a reason the Slayer and her pals won't have your back anymore. You should change that."

Spike had had enough of arguing and turned to go. He'd gotten three steps before Angel's voice made him halt.

"I have made sacrifices, Spike. Nothing you'd understand, and not anything I'll ever tell you, but I have, and the cost was greater than you could ever know."

"So make sure it's worth it," Spike threw back, and left. If she wanted, Buffy could show some sympathy when she said her goodbyes. Spike was fresh out.

Angel was still sitting up in bed looking very unhappy when Buffy entered. Spike was waiting downstairs with the team. They'd arrived just before he'd left Angel with news about what the demon venom was. Since they weren't alone anymore, Spike hadn't shared any details about what he and Angel had talked about. Instead, he'd just nodded at her and gestured for her to head up. Now, she was in Angel's room, and she hadn't a clue what to say to him.

"Buffy?"

He'd finally noticed her. He seemed wary. She couldn't blame him.

"Angel. I'd ask how you were but that's just a really dumb question."

He didn't smile. Buffy glanced down at her hands wondering what she was even doing here.

Spike didn't exactly pull any punches with the home truths so if you're here to chew me out…well, go ahead, but it probably won't make me feel worse."

"I'm not—here for that. I'm not interested in beating you down right now. Those were metaphorical punches too, right? There wasn't actual punching involved, because he promised—"

"Metaphorical. Had the same effect though."

Buffy nodded.

"Good. I mean—good there wasn't more fighting."

She exhaled loudly and started to pace.

"Why is this so hard? Lately, whenever we talk it's like I don't know what to say. It didn't used to be so hard."

"You used to love me."

That put an end to her pacing.

"I did." She glanced down again. "I do. Differently. You're a part of my life, Angel. That won't change, but we're different people now."

"I know. I know that, really. Believe it or not I had someone I…but she got hurt—badly."

Buffy stared at Angel. She hadn't known that. He remained distant, his face turned away from her.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"Spike told you about the demon venom?" she asked then when the silence in the room began getting to her.

Angel nodded. "Said someone's been pulling my strings, making me do things…but that a lot of that's still my fault."

Buffy stayed silent and Angel sighed.

"I let them get to me. I made it easy for them and it almost cost me everything. It would have cost everyone everything."

"It's a demon parasite that draws on a person's insecurities. It feeds them illusions of their worst fears. Someone extracted the venom to make it less obvious that something was screwing with you. Whatever you've been going through lately…it's been feeding on it and heightening the effects. It explains a little about why Spike was acting so insecure and why you were both ready to throw your lives away without considering the options first. The insecurities you both had were the only thing you could focus on."

"Any idea who's behind it?"

"Not yet. They said they'd start picking through the staff starting with anyone who frequently came into direct contact with the blood, meaning Harmony, and that they were going to locate the supplier and try to trace where the blood was tampered with. They're trying to narrow down the list of suspects."

"Can't be easy," Angel mumbled.

"You'll figure it out. I'm sure you've dealt with worse."

"That your subtle way of telling me you aren't sticking around?"

"I don't think we're really wanted but yeah. This isn't home and it's high time I got back there."

"Buffy…I'm sorry. I know it probably doesn't mean anything to you now but I want you to know—"

"It does—mean something. But I'm not the only one you need to apologize to. Other people were hurt more. You'd better make it up to them, because one thing I've learned is that whatever crap you're dealing with it's not worth losing the people you love. There are enough things in this world that try to make your life hell without getting the job done yourself."

"Buffy…Dawn, and that other guy…I never asked but…are they okay?"

"Yeah, they're okay. Goodbye, Angel."

"Oh and Buffy," Angel said before she could leave, "Spike's an idiot. I won't ever like him, and he doesn't deserve it but…for some reason I won't ever understand, he makes you smile. He gives you strength. I hate it, but I'm glad that you have that. You need it."

Buffy felt herself smiling hearing a little of the old Angel she used to know. Brushing her hair behind her ear she looked at him sitting in the large bed, alone and in the dark and knew it would be a long time until, or if, she ever saw him again.

"Thanks. I hope you find that too, someday soon."

Riding down in the elevator Buffy felt a weight lift from her shoulders and let out a sob of relief. She quickly composed herself before the doors opened. The first person she saw when they did was Spike. Buffy smiled widely at him feeling like, at least for a while, things would be okay.

The last thing any of the Sunnydale gang expected was for Angel to fly them back to Rome on a private jet. His little stunt at the church had put him under closer surveillance from the Senior Partners, but they hadn't been behind the tampered blood and once they found out about it had begun helping the team locate the culprit; Eve had quickly become a prime suspect since she'd mysteriously vanished from the company's radar. Angel must still have some power in the company if he had succeeded in giving the Slayer the use of his jet. That or he really wanted them gone.

One of the perks to having the jet was protection from the sun since the windows were made from the same protective glass as the windows in Wolfram and Hart. It meant they didn't have to worry about making part of the trip home in daylight and could leave earlier. It also meant a more comfortable journey for all of them, even if they had to listen to Andrew prattle away about all the plans he had for when they got back and the party he insisted they all go to.

Buffy glanced at Spike sitting across from her, something she'd been doing for the whole flight. He was glancing out the window nervously maintaining a tight grip on the armrests of his chair. She couldn't blame him for being nervous. Flying could be scary for anyone and being confined to a tin can flying thousands of miles in the air with the sun glaring at you from outside had to be terrifying for a vampire. They had just as much chance of dying in a crash as anyone else so it wasn't like already being dead could help them.

Sadly they hadn't had a chance to have that talk when they made it back to the hotel as Dawn declared she was done with Andrew duty and Spike had been worn out from the visit, not being up to full strength. As much as it pained her to put their time together on hold Buffy had insisted he go drink some more blood and get some rest. She'd threatened Andrew into staying quiet and told him to go somewhere else for a few hours if that was too much for him to manage.

Dawn had apologized but Buffy brushed it off with a smile saying it was okay and they would have plenty of time together in Rome. Dawn hadn't completely bought it but she let the matter drop, and the pair had settled in to watch a movie before bed. Now, they were almost home, and all Buffy could think about was being alone with him. The thought excited and petrified her at the same time. Emotional stuff was not exactly her strong point, but she was determined to show him she loved him and that he needn't be guarded around her anymore, and in turn she'd be open with him too.

He shifted in his chair and Buffy whipped her head around quickly so he wouldn't catch her looking at him. Behind her, Buffy heard a giggle that was quickly stifled. She turned to glare at her sister who just bit her lip and shrugged.

"Somethin' wrong?"

Buffy nearly jumped out of her seat when Spike spoke.

"No. No, everything's fine," she said, and smiled.

Spike turned away again and she sighed, looking out of her own window and deciding to ignore her sister, positive she could feel Dawn grinning at her through the seat. The sooner they landed the better.

"Well, this is it," Buffy said, walking into her apartment and dropping their bags, moving them away from the door so they wouldn't be in the way, relieved to be home at last.

Spike walked in behind her and took a long look around the relatively small space. Magazines were sprawled across the coffee table but it was otherwise fairly tidy. The furniture was stuff that had come with the apartment and there was very little in the room that was purely Buffy's. All her belongings had gone down with the rest of Sunnydale and she hadn't bothered to make the place feel like home when she'd been planning to leave once Dawn started school again.

"You've got a nice place here."

Buffy sat down on the couch and patted the empty space beside her.

"Why don't you sit down? It's been a long—it's been long."

Spike chuckled dropping the single bag Buffy had allowed him to carry down beside the others, shrugged off his coat and closed the door behind him. He walked over and sat next to Buffy sharing a shy smile with her.

"Dawn ran off fairly quick when we got here."

Buffy grinned. "Yeah. She's staying with a friend she hasn't seen in a while for the weekend. She's really settled in over here and her friends are nice and normal. It must be a relief for her to get away from the supernatural after what happened to her in L.A."

"No such luck for you though."

"Spike." Buffy reached out and took his good hand in hers, tracing random patters across his skin while she considered her words. "I've had time to think since Sunnydale—about who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing now. I'm not the only Slayer in the world. There's fallout from that of course, but for the first time I don't have to bear the burden of the world on my shoulders alone. It's been freeing. I've had to time to relax and have quality time with Dawn. I've gotten to see a small portion of the world when I never had the opportunity to travel before. I was able to take a break."

"You deserved one," he said watching her fingers move across his hand, his voice growing quiet as he listened to her.

"The thing is…I was never able to really cut myself off from being the Slayer. It's a huge part of me and if I stopped patrolling or keeping an eye out for monsters or demons I didn't feel right. I'd have all this pent up energy and I'd feel like I was being useless. I worked out a system where I enjoyed my days with Dawn or toured the city but I still did my job at night. I've kept in touch with the others, keeping tabs on what they're doing, what Big Bads are out there, where the girls are and what they're fighting. I can't shut myself off from a part of myself. So—what I guess I'm saying is that no, I won't have the same opportunities as Dawn to have a normal life—but I'm okay with that. In fact I kind of like it that way."

"Just proved me right again haven't you?"

Buffy looked up, puzzled. Spike withdrew his hand from hers to brush her hair back and rest it against her cheek.

"That you're a hell of a woman, Buffy. I don't think I've met a stronger person in my life."

Buffy could feel her eyes welling up and stifled a happy sob. She turned her head away, letting her hair fall across her face as she brushed the tears out of her eyes and reached into her coat pocket. Slowly, she pulled out the amulet. After regaining her composure she turned back to Spike and held the crystal up.

"I hate to bring this up now but what do you want to do about this? I know we planned on having the gang do some research but we have no idea what that ritual did to you or if you're still connected to this thing. Until we figure that out it's safest with us but—"

Spike sighed and took the amulet from Buffy. The light reflected off the crystal throwing patches of rainbow color across the walls.

"I really hate this thing," he said.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "But it did bring you back. I'm thankful for that."

"Me too. I still don't fancy keeping it round my neck. Doesn't go with my wardrobe."

Buffy laughed and sank back into the cushions of the couch, tucking her feet underneath her.

"What, a big gaudy rock doesn't scream punk? It would be dangerous anyway. We'll keep it in the safe for now and find somewhere more secure to hide it once we know what we're doing I guess. We'd better keep it under wraps though, even with the people we trust. The less people who know where it is, the safer it'll be."

"You have a safe?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup. Giles doesn't want anyone stumbling across any valuable ritual stuff I come across or important books he sends me for research. He's gotten edgy ever since what happened to the Council and he's really cracked down on security."

"Sounds like ol' Rupes is settling right into this new job of his. I just hope he doesn't let it get to his head like Angel did."

"Well, we'll keep an eye on him, but I think Giles is pretty happy right now surrounded by books and fellow stuffy British people who actually pay attention to his demon history lessons."

Spike nodded and put the amulet down on the coffee table. He leaned back into the couch and let his hands rest casually on his knees. Buffy felt like she was in a dream. It was so strange seeing him in her apartment. Strange that he was sitting next to her after she'd spent more nights than she could count sitting here alone at night thinking about Sunnydale and the last time she'd seen him as he sacrificed himself for the world. She had to touch him again. She needed to prove to herself that he was really here.

"Buffy? What's wrong?" he asked before she could reach for him.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You're crying, pet."

"I am?" Buffy swiped at her eyes and saw that, yes, she was in fact crying.

Now that she had time to think, she was becoming an emotional wreck. He probably thought she was losing it.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to. I just—you're here and—you must think I'm a real mess huh?"

"Hey, it's okay. You've been through a lot. We both have. You must be exhausted."

Spike hesitated for a second before pulling her in for a hug. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her head into his shoulder struggling to get her emotions under control. She felt better holding him.

"I just really missed you. God, this is what it was like wasn't it?"

"What what was like?"

"Loving someone and watching them die…then getting them back by some miracle. You told me you dreamed you saved me every night…I didn't always save you in my dreams. Sometimes I died too, but we were always together. I just wish I would have figured it out before—"

She was cut off when Spike pushed her backwards, took her face in his hands and kissed her. Buffy's had time to notice the feel of the bandages on his left hand brushing her cheek before mind went blank. Just as she felt herself responding to him he drew back. She stared into his eyes dazed and confused and he rested his forehead against hers.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spring that kiss on you but hearing the pain in your voice—I remember what it felt like, Buffy, and I'm so sorry you had to go through that. But I really am here now, and I'm not leavin' unless you want me to."

"That's pretty much the opposite of what I want," she replied, bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. "You're my strength, Spike. I realized a lot of things as I was losing you. All this time I've shut myself away when all I wanted was to have people around me I loved that loved me back. I was so scared of getting hurt that I stopped trying to connect with anyone. I built up so many walls. And you broke them all down."

"Another thing we have in common then."

"I need you to know. I need you to believe me when I tell you that I love you. I've never been as close to anyone as I have been with you. I love you, Spike. I really, really do."

Spike stared back at her in awe. For a second, she was terrified he'd repeat those words back in the Hellmouth. 'No you don't…' She held her breath and watched his Adam's apple move as he swallowed.

"Buffy…you do, don't you? You love me."

She let out the breath she'd been holding and nodded, almost giggling with relief.

"I do."

"You love me. Buffy, I'm a right berk for what I said in the Hellmouth. I promise you I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to," she said, dipping her head.

Spike wasn't letting her away with that and raised her chin so she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"I love you, Buffy. You know I do. I won't ever stop loving you. You're it for me. I swear I won't doubt you again."

She took his head in her hands and ran her fingers through his hair, loosening the blond curls she loved so much and smiled.

"I know."

Buffy decided she was done talking. She'd wanted him all to herself for days and she wasn't going to waste the opportunity now that she had it. Moving slowly so he knew what she intended, she leaned in and kissed him. He paused for only a second before kissing her back.

This was different to any of their previous kisses. It was slow and gentle. They took their time adjusting to each other and memorizing the sensation. Buffy traced his lower lip with her tongue and Spike let out a hiss of pain. Buffy jerked back to look at him suddenly, remembering his split lip which was still in the process of healing. The cut had almost closed over completely but it was still tender.

"Oh God, Spike, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, really. Just need to watch the lip is all."

A little anxious and suddenly very aware of his remaining injuries, Buffy moved in for another kiss, being careful not to use too much pressure this time. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she let him set the pace. The slow caresses turned to eager strokes and moans. Buffy shifted about until she was almost in his lap, her hands in his hair drawing him closer as his roamed up and down her back. She pulled away gasping and leaned her forehead on his again.

"Spike. I know we haven't—but I need you," she panted.

"Which way?"

She smiled at the question and raised her head to look at him. Silently, she pointed in the direction of her bedroom and he rose with her in his lap. Surprised, she hadn't time to warn him before he took two steps and stumbled, very nearly landing the pair of them on the floor. She disengaged herself from him and slid down to the floor. He gave her a sheepish look.

"Your leg," she said, smiling.

"Bloody well forgetting my own injuries now. Getting caught up in the moment."

"Maybe we shouldn't—"

"Buffy. I'll be fine. Lead the way," he said, gesturing to the bedroom.

Spotting the amulet on the table, remembering they shouldn't be leaving it lying around, Buffy picked it up and popped it back in her pocket. She then took his hand in hers and led him to her room, letting go to sit down on the bed and remove her coat and boots.

"You need a hand?" she asked, glancing at his pair of black boots.

He sighed but sat down next to her and nodded.

"Would make things easier."

"It's okay, I don't mind," she said, reaching down to take them off.

When she was done, she shuffled back against the headboard. Twisting sideways, she dropped the amulet into the drawer of the bedside table next to her for now then turned on the lamp. Spike watched her patiently.

"I want to see you," she explained and he smiled.

He crawled up the bed carefully until they were face to face. Unlike the other times, there was no challenge in his eyes, no dare for her to either push him away or take what she wanted. All she saw was love. She reached up and kissed him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth to dance with his as she let her hands wander down his chest and stomach to pull his shirt up and feel the bare skin beneath.

She raised her hips until they touched his, encouraging him to lower himself more so she could feel him pressed against her. He began rocking slowly back and forth and switched his attention to her neck, kissing her throat and nipping lightly at her skin with blunt teeth. She took hold of the hem of his shirt and pulled it up his body slowly, pausing when it reached his arms. He ceased kissing her long enough to lean back and let her tug the shirt off completely. She saw him grimace and try to hide it as he raised his arms.

"Ribs?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just gotta avoid straining them."

She studied his bare chest, the familiar lines of his abdomen covered in fading bruises. He was looking better, but he clearly needed some more rest and blood before he'd be back to himself. A faint scar in the centre of his chest caught her attention. It wasn't one she remembered. As he was lowering himself down again she placed her hand on the spot and he froze.

"Buffy?"

"Your chest," she said, unable to see the scar from that angle with the shadows. She pressed against his chest and he leaned back again. She sat up to get a better look. "There's a scar."

"Hmm?" He looked down at her hand and saw the scarred outline that had caught her attention. "Oh. Yeah. I think it's from the amulet. Not sure how I got it since my body burned up but…something about blessed objects I guess. That's why I've had the one over my eye for so long."

Buffy glanced up at the scar cutting through his eyebrow that had been there for longer than she'd known him. Strangely it seemed much fainter now. There, but not as noticeable. Either that or she'd grown so accustomed to it that it didn't draw her attention the way it used to.

Returning her attention to his chest, Buffy ran her hand over the mark again before dipping her head and pressing her lips against it. A tremor ran through him and Buffy continued kissing the spot, running her tongue around it while her hands drifted along his stomach and around his hips. Spike groaned and brought his injured hand behind her neck holding her close while the other deftly undid the buttons of her shirt.

Before he could take it off, Buffy reached for his right hand and turned it so she could see the palm and the faint mark where he'd bitten it doing the ritual. She licked the mark and pressed a soft kiss to it before letting go. When she met his eyes they were dark and focused completely on her. She felt a thrill run through her and hurried to remove her shirt.

She was in the process of yanking it down her shoulders when she felt a sharp tug on her hair and yelped. Dismayed, she looked down to find she'd gotten her hair caught in one of the buttons. Spike stifled a chuckle and she glared at him.

"It's not funny. That was painful," she whined.

Spike smirked and tried to help her untangle herself.

"Sorry, pet. There you go, all free," he said as he helped her remove the last few strands that were caught.

Being more careful this time, she slipped her shirt off and threw it across the room. This was not how she wanted the evening to go. She turned her attention back to Spike and getting back in the mood. Wanting to touch him again, Buffy pulled him down for another kiss and the pair tumbled back onto the bed. Spike grunted and she gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth while he reached for his side.

"Sorry! Sorry! Ribs again."

Spike took a deep breath and gave her a serious look.

"You know, I never let a few scrapes and bruises get in the way of having fun normally but…it's been one hell of a week. Maybe we should postpone this for a while."

Buffy found that instead of being disappointed by his words she was actually…relieved. When she said nothing, busy contemplating what she'd just realized, Spike gave her a worried look.

"Buffy? Look, I know you wanted to—"

"No, Spike, it's okay," she rushed to reassure him. "I'm not upset I'm—glad. I mean, I'm not glad we're not going to…you know, but to be honest I don't think I can either right now."

"You can't?" he asked.

"No." She laughed. "I'm actually beat. Jet lag affects Slayers as much as the next person and I've been on an emotional rollercoaster the past few days. Plus I'm worried everything I do is going to accidentally hurt you right now, which is a real mood killer because I can't enjoy this while I think I'm going to put you in pain by making the wrong move."

Spike laughed along with her then and collapsed onto the bed next to her so they were lying side by side.

"We're a right pair, aren't we?"

"Yeah," she agreed, but I think it's better we hold off until we can both enjoy it to its fullest, right? I mean we're not not doing this because we don't want to, we're not doing it because we just aren't up to it right now, no matter how much of an ego killer that is for a vampire and a Slayer with a track record for stamina and high pain tolerance to admit."

"Agreed. It'll just be our little secret, yeah? We have plenty of time ahead of us. No rush."

She rolled over to face him. Giving him another contented smile she reached out to brush his cheek before planting another soft kiss on his lips.

"No rush," she agreed. "Of course, there's no reason we can't just hold each other…and sleeping in your clothes is not at all a comfortable or effective way to rest."

Spike grinned and struggled to sit up. Buffy did likewise and they made quick work of helping each other out of their clothes so they could slip beneath the sheets together. Buffy switched off the lamp throwing the room into darkness again. Spike eased his way closer to Buffy, putting his arm around her and she rolled onto her side so she could rest her head on his chest.

"This is okay, right?" she asked, looking up at him. "I'm not hurting you?"

"Nope. Not at all."

"Good."

She settled her hand against the scar in the centre of his chest again and they lay there in companionable silence listening to the faint sounds of cars driving by outside. It didn't take long for exhaustion to finally catch up and Buffy found herself drifting into a dreamless sleep within minutes.

Hours later, Buffy woke to a slightly brighter room. She was wrapped around Spike who lay still beneath her. With a start, she realized her hand had wandered beneath the sheets during the night and she was now half draped across him. Spike had shifted during the night too, his head turned in her direction and one hand cupping her ass. She smiled at their position and took the opportunity while he was asleep to admire him.

His lip had finally healed, she noticed, satisfied that she could at least kiss him properly now without causing him pain, whatever about the rest. She raised her hand slowly to put it in a more innocent position, tracing the scar on his chest again with the tip of a finger as she thought about last night. It really had been okay. It was so weird to think that they could spend time just sleeping next to each other without sex or an apocalypse being involved. It was nice.

As much as she was enjoying lying in bed next to a naked Spike, pun intended, she thought with a smirk, she was becoming aware of a niggling need to pay a trip to the bathroom. She barely shifted away from him when his hands tensed and he spoke.

"And just where are you off to? I'm nice and warm here."

"You faker!" she exclaimed, sitting up to get a good look at his grinning face. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to enjoy all the attention," he said, giving her one of his trademark cocky smirks.

"That whole still as death when you sleep thing is creepy you know, and really unfair. I need to use the bathroom, now let me up."

"Fine," he said with a put upon sigh, reluctantly freeing her so she could get up.

Buffy rose from the bed and, feeling saucy, made her way to the bathroom without putting on a robe first, giving Spike quite the view. She heard a faint growl from the bed behind her and grinned, disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door.

When she'd taken care of that urge, she exited to find Spike sitting up in bed looking more than tempting with the sheet bunched at his waist and his hair mussed. He crooked a finger at her but she just smiled, shook her head and raised a finger telling him to wait, sashaying out of the room leaving a confused looking vampire behind her. She put on some coffee and started rooting through their bags for the blood they'd picked up on their way home. Pouring some into a mug and popping it in the microwave, she finished making her coffee and brought both mugs into the bedroom, passing Spike his blood without a word.

He looked at it surprised before thanking her and taking a big sip. Buffy went back to her side of the bed and sat down then remembered the amulet. She took it out of the drawer, ran her thumb over it and got up again, taking it over to the safe installed in the desk. Once she was positive it was secure she went back to finish her coffee.

"You look a lot better," she said, taking a good look at what she could see of his chest and the faded bruises that looked better than they had last night.

"Yeah," Spike said, glancing down. "Feel a lot better. Sleep does wonders for my healing powers. This helps too," he added, raising his mug before taking another big gulp of blood.

"Just don't get any on the sheets," Buffy said, sipping more of her coffee.

Spike gave her a look out of the corner of his eye as he downed the rest of the blood, ran his finger around the inside of the mug and sucked the red liquid off with a satisfied hum. Buffy stared at the display, her mug tipping slightly from her distraction before the knowing look in his eyes shook her out of her daze. Before he could make a smartass comment, Buffy took a big gulp of coffee and tried not to choke as the hot liquid hit her throat. Coughing, she put the mug on the table and hopped up off the bed again.

"I need a shower."

"Now?" Spike asked.

"Yup," she said scurrying over to the bathroom. "I feel dirty—from the long flight and stuff," she stammered when he quirked his eyebrow at her. "I'm gonna go do that now."

"Don't let me stop you from getting all squeaky clean," Spike called after her.

Buffy was glad her back was turned to him so he wouldn't see her blush.

Looking forward to a nice hot shower, Buffy had just hopped underneath the warm spray and shampooed her hair when she heard tapping against the glass. She squeaked in surprise and rolled her eyes at the grinning vampire looking back at her. She slid the glass partition back and realized he was as naked as she was. Forcing her eyes back to his face she tried not to let her distraction show.

"Spike, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Maybe you should check those reflexes of yours Slayer. I wasn't even trying to be sneaky."

"Well I was preoccupied."

"Thought you might want some company," Spike said, taking a good long look at her body, his eyes transfixed to the rivulets of water and suds trickling down between her breasts, across her stomach and into the curls between her thighs.

Buffy felt herself growing warm, and not just from the water.

"I thought you wanted to wait until you'd healed more," she said, chewing on her lip as she contemplated the idea. She for one was certainly feeling more in the mood.

Spike looked her in the eye, smirked and stepped into the tub, pulling the glass partition back into place. Buffy stepped back to give him room without even thinking about it and gasped when he pulled her flush against him.

"Oh I'm feeling much better. In fact, I'm pleased to report that my body is fully functioning even after everything it's been through lately."

"I noticed," Buffy said, certainly feeling the evidence for herself. "So what spurred on this miraculous recovery? As much as I'd love to take advantage of the moment I don't want you injuring yourself and having a relapse."

"Mm, several things really. Each contributing in their own way to getting me up and about," he answered, walking her back under the spray and running his hands through her hair to get it thoroughly soaked.

"Your bandage," she mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his hands running through her hair.

"Is fine. My hand's not fully healed but it's not agonizingly painful and besides," he massaged her scalp with his good hand, coaxing a happy moan from her, "I may not be a righty but I'm still very talented with both my hands."

"I noticed that too." He curled his tongue against his teeth and Buffy bit back a grin. "So, umm…what sort of things got you up and about?" she asked, smiling.

"Well for one thing, it's the morning," he said, earning him a playful smack on the chest and a grin. "There's the good night's sleep that brought my energy up and the warm blood, waking up next to you…and watching you walk around starkers was fantastic motivation," he said, leaning in close to her. "Tilt your head back, luv."

Buffy obliged happily reaching up to kiss him and frowning in confusion when he pushed her back before realizing he was just moving her under the spray to rinse her hair properly. She blinked and saw him smile at her and continue to focus on washing her hair. He passed her the conditioner and she poured some onto her hand, rubbing it through the ends of her hair as Spike replaced the bottle.

She gasped when his mouth suddenly engulfed one of her nipples and he started licking and sucking on it. She dropped her hands to his head but he pulled away to look up at her.

"You should be washing your hair, pet. I'll take care of cleaning the rest of you up."

She stared down at him, breathing heavily. A few seconds passed and she raised her arms again, working the conditioner into her hair while she watched him. He smiled and returned to her breasts, his good hand stroking at her other nipple. Buffy tilted her head back and gave in to sensation, the water flowing down her back adding to the pleasure and putting her on sensory overload. The erection he was sporting was growing and her arousal was increasing. When she was done rinsing her hair out, she spun them around so he was the one under the spray.

"Your turn," she said her mouth pressed close to his ear.

He closed his eyes and released a low growl. Buffy licked the shell of his ear and drew back to see his blue eyes suddenly locked on hers. Enjoying her payback she ignored the part of his body throbbing for her attention and set about washing his hair. She had to reach up a little since he was taller, at one point leaning in a little too close and losing her footing. She barely wobbled when her foot slipped as his arms banded around her, securing her against him. She grasped his arms and gave him a grateful look, dropping a quick kiss on his lips before disengaging herself to find the shower gel.

"Now for the really fun part," she said, winking at him.

Spike quirked an eyebrow in the impossibly dirty looking way he managed to do many ordinary things, and it was all she could do not to throw away the bottle and kiss him senseless. Determined to carry out her mission, she avoided his eyes so she could focus on soaping him up and getting…reacquainted with his body, she thought, grinning to herself.

Within minutes they'd worked themselves into a fervor and barely remembered to shut the water off as they scrambled out of the shower, grabbing at each other and laughing as they stumbled against the sink and dripped water everywhere. Buffy picked up a towel and barely patted herself dry before Spike grabbed her from behind pulling her back against him so he could kiss and suck at her neck. She moaned, arching her back and dropped the towel, shoving him back to the bedroom.

"We're gonna get the sheets wet, pet," he said, not sounding concerned in the least as she pushed him down on the bed and straddled him.

"Why yes we are," she agreed, bending down to kiss him and slide her hands over his slick, wet skin, rocking her hips against him and feeling his length slide against her pussy.

Spike groaned and grabbed her hips, urging her to grind against him while he kissed her. Buffy broke away panting and giggled as she started sliding down his body. Spike raised his head and leaned on his elbows to watch her path downwards, smiling at her own cheeky grin.

"Where are you off to?" he asked playfully.

"Finishing what I started," she answered before wrapping her lips around the head of his cock and sliding them downwards, pressing her tongue against him.

Spike swore and threw his head back. Buffy glanced up at him pleased, enjoying the view of him laid out before her, his neck taut, his abdominal muscles clenching as she sucked on him. She soon had him panting and gasping her name. When he brought his hand down behind her head and called her name softly, she stopped what she was doing to look up at him.

"Get back up here," he said, crooking a finger at her.

Buffy wiped her mouth and crawled up to him where he pulled her down for another kiss and rolled them over. His hands fell to her breasts where he rolled and pinched her nipples making her gasp into his mouth. He swallowed every moan with a soft kiss and shifted his hips until she spread her legs for him. His right hand vanished only to make its presence known again when his thumb started rubbing her clit.

"Spike," she said, breathy and desperate. "Spike…yes."

"I'm here, Buffy. I've got you," he said against her ear and she cried out when he slipped two fingers into her.

"Oh God. I can't wait anymore. I'm ready, Spike."

"Yeah?"

She stroked his cheek and gave him a loving look and he pressed another kiss to her lips.

"All right then."

He removed his hands and shifted his weight so he was hovering over her, positioning himself against her. Buffy spread her legs apart further and brought her hands to his shoulders. They made eye contact and held it as Spike slowly entered her. Buffy held her breath as she felt him sliding inside her and her inner muscles clenched around him, drawing him in and not wanting to let him go. When he was in completely they both groaned and exhaled loudly.

"Bloody hell," Spike murmured, his face pressed against the sheets next to her head. Buffy wrapped her legs around him and grasped his shoulders tightly. "Bloody hell, Buffy."

"I know," she said and kissed his neck twice. "I know."

Spike raised his head and the look on his face had a lump forming in her throat. His own eyes were watery and he let out a choked chuckle as he brushed her own tears out of her eyes.

"We're a right pair," he said.

Buffy laughed. "Yeah. Damn right we are."

They kissed again and finally started to move, rocking slowly together at first until the pressure inside them started to build, gradually increasing the pace until Buffy felt a familiar tightening in her womb. Spike groaned when she squeezed him extra hard but this time Buffy wasn't worried she was hurting him. She knew what it meant and she let herself go, thrusting up against him and tossing her head back against the mattress as her orgasm took over. Spike nipped her throat with blunt teeth and she called his name as the tremors continued to wrack her body. Seconds later his hips jerked against her when he came, her name on his lips and his eyes squeezed shut.

They lay together contentedly, their bodies trembling from time to time as they came down from their high. Spike eased out of her gently and rolled to the side, stretching out on the bed and Buffy let one hand rest on her stomach while she brushed her damp hair back from her face.

"Looks like another shower is on the cards," she murmured, finding her voice again.

Spike laughed and took the hand she had draped over her stomach in his, their fingers interlocking in an increasingly familiar way. They stayed like that until Buffy shivered. Spike sat up to look at her, concerned.

"Cold?"

Buffy sat up too, hugging her arms around herself.

"A little."

Spike got up and headed to the bathroom, coming back with a fluffy towel that he draped around her shoulders. She snuggled into it gratefully, wrapping it around herself. Spike pulled her in for a hug and dropped a kiss to her head.

"Should get cleaned up and warm. Don't want you getting sick. I'll take care of changing the sheets. Don't want the mattress getting damp."

"Thank you. You don't need—" she broke off and gestured at the towel.

"Nah. I don't feel the cold remember? You go first. I'll sort myself out when you're done."

"Okay. I'll help you change your bandage when I'm done. I'm thinking quiet night in to watch a movie? Or do you want to go out?" she asked, standing up and shaking her hair out, knowing it probably looked like a bird's nest.

"Quiet night in. Definitely," he answered, pulling at the sheets.

Buffy smiled and headed to the bathroom to right herself. She had just closed the door and glanced in the mirror when a thought struck her. She was standing in her apartment while the man—correction—vampire she loved was in the next room making what was now their bed, at least for as long as they were going to live here. This morning she'd woken up next to him after a peaceful night's sleep then sat in the same bed drinking coffee while he drank his blood. They'd had a steamy shower followed by pretty steamy sex and it was all so—domestic. This was what normal couples did. Or it was as close to normal as two supernatural beings in a relationship would get. Buffy had finally made her peace with the fact that she wasn't normal, could never be normal, would never be normal…and only now had she had the most normal experience of her life.

Maybe that's the answer. Normal isn't something you have or don't have…maybe it's something you make. Who really is normal after all? Everyone has their own crap to deal with. Not always supernatural crap but still…who's to say this isn't normal when the supernatural is real? This is normality for me. Normal for us.

The more she thought about it the better Buffy felt. She'd been struggling so hard to achieve something that wasn't in the cards for her…something it turned out she didn't even really want, and now she was finally happy. This was her life and right now, it couldn't be better.

"Spike, we've been debating this for a good twenty minutes already…choosing a movie should not be this hard."

"It's not my fault. You can't decide either."

Buffy's shoulders slumped.

"Well I like the sound of them both."

"So do I."

"Yeah, but I might fall asleep before I can make it through two movies. Jet lag sucks."

Spike sighed and stared at the two DVDs sitting on the couch between them. Buffy had her legs tucked under her and was pouting as she studied the rectangular boxes as well.

"We can watch the other one tomorrow. It's not that big a deal."

"I might go slaying tomorrow…and that still leaves us with the decision of which movie we should watch first."

"Well, I voted already."

"And you changed your vote three times already."

"Well yeah, but—"

"Okay stop. We need to settle this." Buffy held up one DVD then the other so the covers were facing Spike. "On the one hand we have a kick ass woman on a quest for revenge that involves crazy fight scenes and lots of blood."

"An excellent choice," Spike commented.

"On the other hand," Buffy continued, "we have a kick ass vampire woman caught up in a war between vamps and werewolves who ends up falling in love with the enemy."

"Vampire movies tend to irritate me but…I think this one sounds all right."

Buffy lowered the DVDs and gave him a look.

"Meaning you're all for seeing Kate Beckinsale in a catsuit who also happens to wear a long black coat."

"Hey," Spike said, feigning outrage," not like Uma Thurman doesn't have her charms too you know. Ow!"

Spike barely deflected the DVD that sailed at his head but hit his arm instead. He rubbed at the spot and raised an eyebrow at Buffy sitting innocently opposite him.

"Oops, sorry sweetie. Must have slipped," she said, beaming at him.

"Need I remind you I'm still recovering?"

"Big baby. You're skin's thick enough to handle a DVD case. What one was it anyway? Might as well just watch that."

"So the deciding factor is which one you throw at me?"

"Works for me."

Spike mock glared at her and picked up the box from the floor, grinning when he saw the cover. He spun it around so Buffy could see.

"Beckinsale in leather it is then."

Buffy rolled her eyes and snatched the DVD from him, getting up to go pop it in the DVD player.

"Well at least I get to enjoy you complain about the portrayal of vampires in it," she said, hopping back up off the floor to head back to the couch.

Spike made room for her to cuddle up next to him, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

"As long as they're bloodthirsty demons who don't brood over every little thing I can handle it," he said.

Buffy let out a snort of laughter and grabbed for the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. They settled in and Spike started stroking her hair. Buffy leaned into the touch and hummed happily.

"So, Scotland yeah?" Spike asked as she navigated the menu.

"Scotland," she answered, pressing play. "But we don't have to stay there. Anywhere will be fine, as long as we're together."

"Yeah. And we have plenty of time to figure it out," Spike added looking down at her.

She looked up at him and leaned in for a kiss. They separated when the movie started up and turned their attention to the TV, growing quiet as they enjoyed their first real night in together as a couple.