"Did you get Merlot?" the girl asked as her sister closed the car door.

"It doesn't matter what I got, this is America, and you're not drinking." the blond said as she adjusted her seat belt.

"Please Buffy, I drink all the time in Italy. I'm only going to have one glass. I'll still be able to drive you home."

Buffy sighed, "All right, one glass of wine."

Dawn smiled triumphantly. Little by little she was getting her older sister to trust her and treat her like an adult.

The girls settled into silence as Dawn pulled the car onto the streets of L.A. The driving was a little crazy. There weren't that many cars out, but it was Christmas Eve, and everyone who was out driving was in a hurry. Even so, Dawn deftly wove in and out of traffic.

"You make it look so easy," Dawn glanced at her sister puzzled, "the driving."

Dawn laughed, "Hey, you're The Slayer, I'm The Driver," Dawn smiled. Driving was about the only thing that required coordination that she could do better than Buffy. Of course, she figured she'd had the advantage of a better teacher. Drivers ED teachers were notoriously twitchy. You'd think they would have been used to near death experiences from student drivers, but they were always so tense. It usually caused the students to tense up.

Dawn however, had secretly, and illegally, learned from Spike, long before she'd gone to Drivers ED, or even had a permit. Not that learning how to drive at night, in a car with blacked out windows was easy. But Spike had never been nervous, even if he had grimaced a time or two at her abuse of the DeSoto's clutch.

Dawn wasn't entirely sure why she'd never told Buffy how she learned to drive. Maybe it was because it had been during that awful summer when Buffy had been dead. Maybe it was because it had been such a private time between her and Spike.

Oddly it was then that her crush on Spike had worn off. Both her mom and Buffy had been gone, and teaching you to drive was such a parental thing to do that their relationship had shifted. They were no longer partners in crime (unless you counted underage driving). Spike had become almost a father to her, or at least an older brother.

She smiled remembering how the evil vampire had tried so hard to "do right" by her. All the slip ups he'd made when his view of the world conflicted with what he knew Buffy would want her to be told.

They drove on further in silence. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Buffy finally said. "It's Christmas Eve, maybe he isn't even home. We should have called first."

Dawn sighed. Here we go again, she thought.

"First of all, it's the middle of the day, not a big time for vampires to be up and active. Second of all, I somehow doubt that Spike is out with Angel decorating a tree, singing Jingle Bells, and drinking Egg Nog." she giggled at the image. "Thirdly, we don't even know if Spike has a phone."

"Exactly, daylight, he's probably asleep. It's really rude to just barge in and wake him up. Besides, what if he doesn't want to see us?"

"I'm sure he wants to see us. And if he doesn't, he's just dumb and deserves to be disturbed. That's the address, looks kind of normal doesn't it?" Dawn said as they pulled into the parking lot of a rather typical L.A. apartment building.

"It must be the wrong address. We're probably going to disturb some complete stranger on Christmas Eve, we should go back."

Dawn sighed. If she could just get Buffy to the door she was sure it would be alright.

They got out of the car, and Dawn stopped dead in her tracks.

"Dawn, what is it?" her sister asked.

"Oh. My. God. That's a Viper."

"What? Snakes? Where?" Buffy asked, falling into a ready to stop things, fighting stance.

"Not a snake silly. The car. There. Look," she said pointing.

Buffy looked at the red sports car, but was obviously not that impressed. "So?" she asked, "It's a car."

"It not just a car. It's a Viper. Oh, never mind, let's go." Dawn gave up. Her sister's car ignorance was just too embarrassing. How could she not even know what a Viper was?

He growled in frustration as the old chinese monk grabbed and threw him. This was ridiculous, he was Spike, the Big Bad, or at least the former Big Bad. Fighting is what he did. He was an expert. It was second nature. So how could he be loosing?

"GAME OVER" boomed the computer voice.

"Stupid bloody game!" he cursed. "Virtual Fighter my ass, got nothing to do with real combat." That was it, he told himself. In a real fight you could watch your opponents eyes, tell what they were going to do. But not with some silly machine. Besides, he thought, my fingers still haven't fully recovered from being chopped off. If I had my full dexterity back I'd beat this game hands down.

He winced at the idiom. No gonna keep my hands fully attached from now on. And if I want them to be good as new, I'll just have to keep on playing, he thought as he hit the start button to replay the fight.

Just then there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he yelled absently, as he tried to execute a flying kick.

The door opened, and before he could turn his head to look, he heard a familiar squeal as he was enveloped in a hug.

"Spike, you big jerk." said the armful of teenager he was now holding.

He smiled, "And how are you Nibblet?" He hugged her back, breathing her in, clean and young with the scent of apples in her hair. Then he disentangled himself from her. Stood, and held her at arms length so that he could get a good look at her and avoid looking at the figure in the door. "Bloody hell, you've turned into a young woman, you're not a bit anymore, are you?"

She smiled shyly, a little embarrassed. Blushing, she looked down at her feet and shoved her hair behind her ear as she said, "You can still call me that, it's okay."

There was no avoiding it anymore, he looked at the figure in the doorway. Her hair was long and straight, spilling over her right shoulder the end coming to rest half way down her breast so that, he imagined, were she naked, her nipple would just peek out from underneath.

Of course she wasn't naked. She wore a white turtle neck sweater that clung tightly to her curves. Her long jean skirt lead his eyes down to her feet. She wore delicate black heels, the thin black straps crisscrossing her feet to show off her toes which were painted with a white glittering polish.

She was holding a brown paper bag which she was balancing on her left hip. The way she had her weight on her right leg with her left hip jutting reminded him of an Indian statue. As soon as the thought entered his head he regretted it. Suddenly his head was filled with images of Buffy, topless, with long necklaces or garlands flowing between her breasts, and her arms up and open, welcoming like a fertility goddess. Or better yet, Durga in the middle of killing some demon.

As he tried to wrestle the fantasy's involving Buffy and some of his favorite pictures from a copy of the Kama Sutra (which his uncle had secretly given him on a Christmas Eve over 130 years ago) out of his head, he realized that Buffy hadn't said anything, hadn't moved, and neither had he.

Typical, he thought, I save the world, and she can't even say thanks. Or give me a kiss. Save the girl, get a kiss. Isn't that supposed to be the deal?

It was Dawn who had to break the long silence that hung between the two. "So umm, Merry Christmas Spike. We have presents, but Buffy's is lame, and not even wrapped, so she might as well give it to you now."

"Dawn!" Buffy snapped. Then she reached into the bag. "Merry Christmas William," she said as she handed him a bottle.

William. Why the hell had she called him William. The only other time she'd done that, it had been when she'd broken up with him. Fuck, why doesn't she just say, 'Stay the hell away from me,' he thought.

He looked at the bottle. "I always thought you had good taste," he laughed as he saw that she had bought him a bottle of 21 year old Irish whisky. "Thanks, pet. Would you like a glass?"

"Ewwww. God no Spike, I can't stand that stuff. I just guessed it was good by the price. I suppose I could have called Giles and asked him what type to buy, but. . . anyway, I also brought some wine for Dawn and me. One glass only." she added glaring at her sister, "I figured since you weren't expecting us you might not have much in the way of refreshments for the living. Unless of course you have plans. Do you?"

Her voice dropped on the last part, and he thought maybe he detected a hint of apprehension in her voice.

He turned toward the kitchen area of the small one room apartment, chuckling. "No plans, luv. A couple people invited me to dinner, but Christmas, not really a big holiday for vampires. Better than Easter though." He pulled three glasses out of a cupboard, grabbed a chair from the table, and brought it over to the couch.

"Huh? What's the wrong with Easter? It's vengeance demons, not vampires that have bunny-phobia." Dawn asked.

"Crosses." Spike answered, as he motioned for them to sit on the couch. "You read Sumerian and you don't know Christianity 101?" he paused, "Sorry don't have any wine glasses."

He opened the bottle of wine and poured the two girls each a glass, though he only poured a small amount for Dawn. A glass of wine was a very subjective thing, and he had no idea what Buffy considered 'one glass'.

"Hey," Dawn grumbled when she saw how much less Spike had poured for her than for her sister.

Next he poured himself a glass of whisky. Sipping it, he smiled. It had been awhile since he'd bothered to get anything really good to drink. Between the chip and having a soul, money was much tighter than when he'd simply killed people for what he wanted, hundred dollar bottles of whiskey were defiantly not in his budget.

"Sure you don't want any?"

"I'll try a little," said Dawn.

"NO!" both Buffy and Spike said at once. They looked at each other and all three of them laughed, even Dawn although she pretended to be disappointed.

"So we know my excuse, why aren't you two with those near and dear today?"

"We are." Buffy said, her voice firm, as she smiled at him. Spike hadn't been fishing for a sign of her affection, he was just used to being the outsider when it came to her life. Not to mention several months as a ghost tends to make a fellow feel not quiet there. Even so he warmed inside, before he reminded himself that it just meant they were friends, nothing more.

"Besides, Dad's in some sort of supper overcompensation Christmas overload. The whole Sunnydale getting swallowed by the earth kind of freaked him," Buffy continued, "I think he's bought his third set of extra presents for us, so it helped for us to get out of the house while he gets things ready for tomorrow."

"Oh, presents! I almost forgot my not last-minute-way-to-obvious present." Dawn said fishing in her purse. Buffy just glared at her sister. "Here you go Spike."

"You really didn't have to." he said, although he was rather thrilled. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had given him anything. Well, anything other than jewelry that caused him to burst into flames.

She handed him a small gift, wrapped in gold foil, and tied with a red ribbon. He snapped the ribbon with his fingers, then he carefully slid his index finger between the layers of paper at the top of the gift, so as to loosen the tape, and not tear the paper. He wasn't aware of the care he was taking, in not tearing the paper. The only times he had even been given a wrapped present he had been alive, and back then such paper was rather expensive. It was habit to preserve it so it could be reused.

As he saw what lay beneath the paper, his face lit up, and he laughed. She had given him a copy of "The Nightmare Before Christmas" on DVD. She and Spike had watched it together half a dozen times at least.

He still remembered the night they had first watched it together. He had agreed to watch her for the Scoobies and they had gone to rent a movie. They had argued about what they were going to watch. He wouldn't let her watch anything R rated afraid of what Buffy might have thought of him corrupting her little sister. Anything not R rated that she wanted to watch he complained was a chick flick, and good and wholesome. "What are you trying to do, turn me into some sort of white hat, nancy-boy, fuzzy puppy-dog?"

"Oh, what about this. It's got vampires, and witches, and ghosts, and lost of scary things."

"It's bloody claymation 'bit. Oh, what the hell."

Despite his worst intentions, he'd liked it. From then on it was their movie. They watched it half a dozen times at least. That was until she had started drawing comparisons between him and Jack Skelington. Pointing out that both of them tried to do good things, but weren't very good at it, had caused an argument that had the evil vampire swearing he would never watch it again.

Dawn had gambled that the new ensouled Spike would be of a different mind.

"Thank you bit." he said as he hugged her. "Well, I suppose you'll be wanting your gifts then." He crossed the room, and by extension the apartment, to a small writing desk.

"Spike it's okay, we know you didn't expect us." Buffy hurriedly replied.

He chuckled as he pulled two small gifts from the on top of the desk. She wasn't expecting me to have gotten them anything, he thought.

"I meant to mail these off to you, but I figured, what with the coming back from the dead, I should send a note. Wasn't sure what to say." The truth was he'd spent hours, possibly even days when you added it all together, trying to write to Buffy.

"Here you go 'bit." He handed Dawn a gift wrapped in red paper, with snowmen on it, and a green ribbon. On top was a envelope for a card.

Eagerly Dawn pulled off the ribbon and opened the envelope and read the card:

Merry Christmas Dawn,

Read this, don't tell your sister, and I'll finally teach you to ride a motorcycle.

Love,
Spike

Curious, Dawn ripped through the paper, to find a copy of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". Dawn giggled mischievously, remembering the many times she had tried to convince Spike to teach her to ride a motorcycle, and understanding that lessons were her true gift.

"I'm going to hold you to that you know." she said as she hugged him.

"Hold him to what?" Buffy asked, annoyed at being confused by the gifts her sister and Spike had given each other.

"Here you go, luv. Hope it's not. . . well I hope you like it. Sorry it's not wrapped" Spike said, trying to distract her.

It worked as Buffy noticed the nervousness in his voice and looked down into his hand at the small silver box. She took the box and a deep breath. It was obviously a jewelry box. Spike had bought her jewelry. Luckily, she thought, it's not real jewelry. It wasn't one of the soft felt boxes that expensive jewelry came in, just one of the small silver cardboard boxes you got when you bought a twenty dollar pewter pendant at the mall.

"I'm sure I'll like it."

She opened the box, and inside, lay a silver heart shaped locket.

"Go on open it up. Look inside," he prompted, carefully gauging her reaction.

Typical, she thought, he's given me a picture of himself. No, no ego there. Nope, none at all.

She popped the locket open. Her breath caught in her throat, and tears sprang to her eyes almost instantly.

"Oh, Spike. . . it's . . ." she was too emotional to continue, and for the first time since they'd arrived she moved in closer than arms reach as she threw herself into him, hugging him, burying her face in his chest.

He pulled her in close, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you like it," he whispered.

She stood there for a moment, feeling as if she had melted into him. Then she became aware of her hand on his chest. It's really a very nice chest, she thought while she fought the urge to trace his muscles with her fingers. Realizing the direction her mind was going she pulled back, away from him.

"What is it?" Dawn demanded.

Weakly Buffy opened her hand, to show her sister the locket.

"Mom?" the younger Summers whispered, as she saw the picture.

"Thank you Spike. I don't know how. . . I thought all the pictures had been destroyed. No don't tell me it's probably some dark mojo I'm better off not knowing. . . Will you put it on me?" Buffy turned her back to him and pulled her hair aside revealing her neck.

Involuntarily he licked his lips at the sight of her neck. He took the locket from her, and let it fall low on her chest. Then he slowly dragged the two ends up, around her neck, tracing her collar bone with his fingers as he did so. Despite the fabric between his fingers and her skin, she trembled a bit, involuntarily imagining his fingers tracing other parts of her anatomy. Then he clasped the necklace and brushed her hair back so it fell evenly across her shoulders.

She turned around smiling even though there were still tears in her eyes.

"Thank you, I'll wear it always."

"I'm just glad you like it. And don't worry, no black magic involved, just the magic of the internet."

Both girls looked at him puzzled.

"Your mum's gallery? They had a memorial to her on their web site with a picture. Had a friend size it down for me, and print it out all nice like."

"But wouldn't the website have been destroyed along with the gallery and Sunnydale?" Buffy asked, puzzled.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Buffy, the web page wouldn't have been on one of the gallery's computers. Who knows where the server was, but there was no reason why it would have been in Sunnydale. They probably paid for server space for a whole year, and no one thought to take the page down, what with the apocalypse."

"Oh," Buffy hated it when her sister talked down to her like that. Not everyone could be a Willow with computers. "Well in any case, thank you again. We lost all our photos in Sunnydale, and although Dad has some of Dawn and me, he didn't keep any of Mom after the divorce."

"Your welcome Buffy. And um, sorry about destroying your home."

Buffy laughed, "Yeah, I'm going to beat the crap out of you for closing the Hellmouth. Do you know how nice it is to not have to worry about whether Xander's newest girlfriend is a demon and going to eat him or something? And that's just for starters."

They all smiled, relaxed, and began to joke about old times and catch up on life post Sunnydale.

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

Buffy sipped her glass of wine and smiled, wondering how she could be so comfortable, and tense all at once. He was so easy to talk to. She didn't have to watch what she said. Not only did he know and understand her as the Slayer, but he'd seen her at her worst, most pathetic, and he hadn't run away.

On the other hand, there was all their baggage. And it wasn't one of those small wheeled suitcase that fit under the seat in front of you, no it was the full 20 piece set of Cordelia Chase, going away for the weekend with all her shoes, baggage.

Since she had first found out he was alive from Andrew, she had been trying to figure out how to let him know how she felt. Let him know how much his friendship had meant to her. And yet, she didn't want to lead him on. She had to make it clear that they were not going to be a couple. She wanted him to be able to move on.

And then she'd seen him. Walked through that door and there he was, Spike, alive. Looking, well, like Spike. Same hair, same black tee-shirt, same black jeans, same blue eyes drinking her in, caressing her. She wanted to run hug him, like Dawn did. Tell him how stupid he was for hiding from her, for not telling her he was alright. Yell at him for leaving her, just like everyone else did.

And then Dawn had to bring up the suckyness of her gift. She had been searching for a gift, long before Christmas. Ever since she discovered from Andrew that he was alive. But she found out how little she knew about Spike, about what he liked other than her.

All she really knew was that he liked fighting and fucking, drinking and smoking. That didn't leave a great range of gift options. Anything sexual would send the wrong message. Weaponry was out, not just because it was difficult to ship from one country to another, but the implication was that she saw him as fighter and nothing else.

That left tobacco and alcohol. She had never known him to smoke cigars. Plus cigars, hello Freudian imagery. It wasn't as if Spike couldn't read something sexual into almost anything, no need to make it so obvious. She had kept hoping that she would find something. That something would leap out at her as being perfect, but nothing had, and so she'd found herself making the last minute run to the liquor store. So it wasn't a great gift, but then she'd never guessed he would have a gift for her.

And what a gift. For the hundredth time her hand reached down to caress the locket. It was probably the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her. It had effected her enough that she'd forgotten her internal promise to minimize physical contact with Spike and she'd thrown herself into his arms.

It had felt so good but she'd noticed something. He wasn't hard. Spike was always hard for her, or at least it had seemed like it back in Sunnydale. Had she been the only one who'd found the hug intimate. A little too intimate. But then maybe she was mixing up pre and post soul Spike.

Once again she was filled with doubt. He hadn't gotten in touch with her, hadn't tried to see her, and now he didn't even seem to want her physically anymore.

And that's good she told herself. He is moving on. That's what you want right. He's your friend and you want him to be happy, not to keep on pinning after you.

They sat on the couch together, talking. Dawn had moved onto the floor, and was busy button mashing on some game with really annoying sound.

They'd talked about a lot of things, mostly about what they'd been doing since Sunnydale. Buffy got the feeling he wasn't telling her everything about his experiences since he'd come back, but she wasn't going to push, especially since it seemed to have something to do with Angel. Not a subject she really wanted to get into with Spike. Then they'd talked about Europe and the places that they'd been.

"So why Rome?" he asked.

"Don't know exactly, just the place both Dawn and I really liked. Plus, Italy, shoes." She said pointing her toes to show off her heels. "Although, nice as they look, not big on comfort. Sometimes I think I should stick to my good old American slayer shoes."

He smirked, and before she could react, he had her foot in his hands, and he was undoing the straps on her shoe.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't you trust me luv?" he asked, giving her his best 'innocent' look.

She was about to reply no automatically, when his fingers sunk into the bottom of her arch, making her gasp, and reflexively try and pull her foot back.

"Does that hurt?"

"Yeah, but it's good. It's of the good." This is bad, bad, bad, her brain screamed. But she couldn't imagine pulling her foot out of his hands once he began massaging it.

Thank god Dawn was there. It couldn't be anything more than a foot massage if Dawn was there. Then again even if Dawn wasn't there, she almost doubted that this would go much further, simply because she didn't want the foot rubbing to stop. And that's all it was, the rubbing of feet. Nothing more.

She looked at his face, trying to get some clue as to. . . what? If he was hitting on her? He hadn't really flirted with her much, at least not much for Spike. Sure a complement here, an innuendo there, but it was all very low key for Spike.

He was evil. That was the answer. He had come back from the dead without his soul. That's what he was hiding. That's why he was messing with her head, not to mention her body. Evil vampire, evil foot massage.

Nothing to do but enjoy it, she decided.

Spike had wandered the sewers for hours after Buffy and Dawn had left. He couldn't stay in his apartment. There was no escaping her smell. Who knew when the place would be livable again. Not that there was anyone to blame but himself.

If it had just been her smell, it wouldn't have been too bad. But no, stupid git he was, he had to play with her. Remind her that he knew how to push all her buttons. Not to mention showing her that he could be subtle. His hands and never strayed above her ankle, but she had been putty in them. Even now he smiled at the feeling of power it gave him. Not something he was used to feeling in her presence.

And what was his reward, a couch that smelled of horny slayer.

This is what came of having an apartment. He'd probably have to get the couch steamed to get the smell out. You never have to steam a sarcophagus, now do you?

On the other hand, not everything had gone so badly. He'd been afraid of giving her the locket. Afraid he was overstepping his bounds. But she'd loved it. She was going to wear it everyday, she'd said. And whenever she did, she'd remember who gave it to her. She'd remember him.

Part of him felt a little guilty, getting at her through her mother like that. Another part however
was willing to take what ever scrap of her heart he could scrounge up. That part was dwelling on the scent of her arousal as she'd hugged him. The feel of her in his arms.

Never a demon to be found when you needed a good spot of violence. What were they doing, trimming the bloody tree?

Still, he was proud of himself. He'd kept everything under control. No embarrassing hard-ons in front of the Nibblet. That was one advantage to being a vampire with a soul. An entire repertoire of gruesome experiences that he could feel guilty about at a moments notice. Though the irony that all that blood and brutality had once turned him on, was not lost on him.

Finally the sun went down, and he was able to roam the streets. But they were empty as well. Only one place to find people on Christmas Eve, he thought, a bar.

So he sat alone nursing a beer. But even the bars were nearly empty. Where were all the other poor pathetic wankers he thought. Sure he could have taken Fred up on her offer for dinner, but he got the feeling that all the upper management at Wolfram & Hart had been invited and spending the evening with Angel was not his idea of a good time.

He was thinking that maybe he should relocate to a strip club. That was exactly what he needed to get the Slayer out of his head. Tall women with legs that went all the way up and great large breasts. A lap dance was defiantly in order.

He was just about to get up when a pretty brunette sat down next to him.

"Good to see I'm not the only one with no where to be." she said. She was pretty. Not built like those strippers he'd been thinking of, but she also looked nothing like the Slayer, and it occurred to him that meaningless sex with a stranger might be just as good, if not better than the lap dance. Who knows, maybe he'd luck into getting both.

"Well, someone has to generously tip these poor bastards who got stuck working tonight. Speaking of, can I get you something?"

"Yeah, I'll have a white russian." she told the bartender.

"York?" he asked, listening to her accent.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. More or less. Harrogate, it's about half way between York and Leeds."

"Right, didn't they put some new baths in there?"

"Oh Lord, it's so nice to hear someone refer to something from the 19th century as new. A building's twenty years old here and they seem to want to declare it a historical landmark."

He laughed.

Tonight wasn't going to be a total waste after all, Spike thought. This was exactly what he needed. To move on, forget about Buffy. And most importantly to get laid.

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

Spike took one last look at the sleeping figure as he closed the door behind him. He got into the elevator and pushed the button to go down, before he let out a large sigh.

"Idiot," he said under his breath. What was he thinking picking up some normal girl as if were a normal guy. True it hadn't meant anything. He was sure they'd both been quite clear on that, but it had illustrated a valuable point to him. He was going to be alone forever.

The sex had been nice, but he'd realized quickly how careful he had to be. He'd had sex with quite a few human women, but it had always been violent.

Sex isn't the word mate, he scolded himself, rape's the word. Hurting them, tearing them, it had all just been a prelude to killing them, The more they screamed, the more they fought, the better.

Not that sex was everything. Though it was a lot. Not that he couldn't be gentle. That was the very thing he'd been trying to show Buffy with the foot massage earlier. But even if he did find some girl he cared about, she'd be mortal. He'd have to watch her grow old and die.

It wasn't that this had never occurred to him before. He'd thought about it plenty of times since he'd fallen in love with Buffy. Of course with Buffy it had always been a matter of making sure she survived long enough to grow old. Not to mention the fact that he was already in love with her, so he'd always figured he ought to take what ever time they had and make the best of it.

Besides, he was a vampire, he didn't belong to the normal world, and he had no right to drag some nice girl into a world were she was likely to wind up as dinner.

Of course, there was a whole world of slayers out there now, but somehow it seemed horribly unfaithful to Buffy to even think of pursuing another slayer. She was his Chosen One, now and forever. Not to mention that that would make him a little too much like that Robin fellow, minus the Oedipus complex.

Other vampires were out of the question too. First of all, Harmony was the only vampire who would even give him the time of day, and that was only because she was the saddest case of evil he'd ever seen. As long as he had a soul other vampires were not going to touch him. Not that he particularly wanted anything to do with them either.

Ninety-five percent of the vampire population was pathetic. Beasts without any thought other than their next meal. Thugs just waiting for the next Big Bad to put them to some use. He should know, he'd never found himself short of minions when he'd needed them. No, any vampire that had enough personality to be interesting would be a dark evil sadist, and that just no longer did it for him.

Sure there were some demons who weren't evil, but the chances were that he was going to be alone from now on and the thought terrified him. If he was alone, he would have to live for himself, and he had no idea how to do that. He had always lived for someone else, first his mother, then Drusilla, and finally Buffy. Even before he'd loved her, he'd at least lived to kill her.

Now there was a thought. Perhaps he could find a nemesis somewhere.

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

She waited until she herd his steps receding down the hallway. Lord, I thought he'd never leave, the woman thought as she stretched. Not that it had been a bad time, in fact the vampire had been a skillful lover. But the sex had simply been a means to an end. Although, once the spell was cast, she might use him for sex again. It really had been good.

She got up and crossed the room naked, to sit at her vanity. She opened the top drawer, revealing an assortment of black candles, bundled herbs, a jeweled knife, several crystals, and a small golden box. She took out the box and opened it. Then she took a large ring, like a high school class ring, off her finger. Absently her thumb ran across the ring and she shuddered as she felt the power inside of it.

The ring had worked beautifully. He had never felt it when she had pricked him with the tiny needle embedded in the band of the ring. Or as a small amount of his blood had been sucked into the ring to be stored in the hollow gem.

She placed the ring inside the box which glowed for a moment as she closed it. The enchantment on the box would keep the blood fresh and safe until tomorrow night.

The blood of a vampire, drained from him during the height of his passion. And not just any vampire. William the Bloody, who had killed and drained a slayer when he was little more than a fledgling. William the Bloody who had a soul now, who'd saved the world, who was a champion.

Yes, his blood would grant her incredible power, filled as it was with both so much good and evil. She might only have a little of it now, but tomorrow at midnight, she could preform the spell. Then William the Bloody would make the world bleed for her and she'd have her revenge.

Her back arched, and she threw back her head as a long moan escaped her lips. As her orgasm faded, she started to pull her self off of the vampire, unconcerned with the fact that he had not yet come.

Strong hands grabbed her waist and she could feel his cold fingers digging into her back, bruising her, as he pulled her back down on top of him, crying out "Buffy" as he did so. She didn't struggle, but gave in. Letting him finish, as if it was no concern of hers one way or the other.

Three, four times he impaled her with his cock, until he came. Then he let her go, as she collapsed on top of him. They lay there for a moment, with her breathing heavily on top of him.

Then he rolled her over onto her back. Brushing away fragments of two-by-four and dry-wall as he did so, to make a clean space for her to lie on.

Her eyes were closed, she refused to look at him, but she felt his blunt teeth sink into her neck. It sent a shiver through her whole body and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her.

She wanted to scream. To beg him to bite her with his other teeth. Bite me, drink me, kill me, fuck me. The litany went on, over and over in her head, but she managed to just lie there as he worked his way down her body, biting her gently with human teeth. It was driving her crazy.

Not to mention his fingers. He had spread both her legs, and the soft folds between them, apart again and was gently rubbing her clit with his fingers. Then his fingers were inside her. First one, then two, as his thumb moved to massage her nub.

He bit her just above her belly button.

"What are you. . . Oh God!" she screamed as he buried his face between her legs and tasted her. She'd never felt anything like it. No one had ever done this to her before.

She was about to reach down to run her fingers through his hair when he was gone. Nothing, nobody was touching her. But she could still hear Spike. Hear him groaning.

She opened her eyes to find herself standing in a bedroom.

Spike was there on the bed, on top of a brunette woman whose face she couldn't see.

"Spike?" she said, hurt more deeply than she could imagine by the sight of him making love to another woman.

He held himself up with one hand as he continued to plunge in and out of the woman. "Do you mind Buffy? I'm a bit busy trying to move on here. It's what you wanted isn't it?"

"I don't think you should be doing that. Spike. I don't think she should be doing that to you."

He looked down and watched as the brunette carved symbols in his chest with a knife. Blood flowed down his white skin covering them both. "It's okay luv, I like it rough. You know that."

A weak voice came from a corner of the room "Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop." She looked over and saw a man curled into a ball. He was wearing a strange suit and rocking back and forth as he held his knees. His face was down and she couldn't see much of him other than his mousy brown hair. Even so he seemed familiar to her.

"It's okay. I'll help you. It's what I do," she said putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Just tell me what's wrong."

"It isn't proper. It isn't right." he said, and looked up at her.

She gasped as she looked into the blue eyes she knew so well.

"Spike!"

She sat straight up in bed.

The next moment she was scrambling to get dressed. Spike was in trouble. She was sure of it. That had been a slayer dream if she had ever had one. And yet, she couldn't remember a slayer dream ever interrupting a regular dream and the first part had not been something that was going to happen but something that already had.

She threw on a tank-top and a pair of sweats. Automatically she started looking for weapons, before remembering that all she had brought with her was one stake. It was too difficult getting weapons through customs. Spike will have weapons at his place, she thought, as she left her room.

She tip-toed downstairs careful not wake anyone and grabbed her father's keys from a ring in the kitchen. Despite Dawn's complaints she was glad her dad's SUV was an automatic. She didn't know what she would have done if she had to drive a stick.

As soon as she was on the road driving took up all her concentration, for which she was grateful. It kept her from thinking about how she had felt seeing Spike with the faceless woman.

The clock on the dashboard read 1:43 as she pulled into the parking lot at Spike's building. She flew down the stairs into the basement, stake in hand, not thinking that bursting in on a vampire with a stake at the ready wasn't exactly polite.

She was about to burst through the door to his apartment, when she came up short. Something had been nagging at the back of her mind since she'd parked. She couldn't sense any vampires of any kind nearby, not to mention that specific feeling she got when Spike was around.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, searching for any sign that a vampire was near.

Nothing.

It was too late. That was why the slayer dream had interrupted her regular dream. She had been too slow. Maybe if she'd driven faster. She didn't know what to do. How was she supposed to find him in L.A. Why hadn't the stupid dream given her any clues.

Maybe because it wasn't a slayer dream, a little voice in the back of her head said. Slayer dreams never happen at the last moment, and they don't interrupt other dreams. It was just a dream. A regular dream. That was all.

But if it wasn't a slayer dream it meant that she hadn't been bothered by seeing Spike with another woman because she was hurting him, but because she was jealous.

No one hurts Spike but me, is that it? she asked herself. God, how pathetic is that? She didn't want Spike for herself, but no one else could have him? He couldn't have anyone else? Didn't she want him to be happy?

Or did she want him for herself?

But if it was just a regular dream, just her subconscious working out the issues she wouldn't deal with consciously, why had she been so sure he was in danger?

And so what if he wasn't here. He was a vampire, this was like the middle of the day for him. He'd mentioned that he'd been patrolling, fighting evil. This was prime slaying time, as people began to straggle out of bars, and vampires began picking them off.

As all these questions swam through her brain, one kept surfacing again and again; was she in love with Spike?

She kept standing there, one hand hovering over the doorknob, lost in her thoughts. Seconds, then minutes passed. Finally she stopped. This was getting her no where. She was being silly. It was just a dream. That was it.

She turned to leave and started up the stairs, just as the door opened and Spike appeared.

For a moment he froze, seeing her standing there. Then he continued down the stairs.

"What are you doing here?"

"I um, I was worried about you."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you Florence, but I'm just fine. I'm a big boy, can take care of myself."

He was only a couple of steps above her on the stairs now. She was about to apologize when it hit her, the smell of perfume. She could see something on his neck. Lipstick? It certainly wasn't blood. And his hair was standing up instead of lying slicked back as it normally was. As it had been earlier in the day.

She tried to think of something to say. The fact that she had come to warn him about a woman he might sleep with was completely forgotten, as a jealous rage filled her at the thought of a woman he did sleep with.

Her eyes flashed dangerously and he took a step back involuntarily, recognizing the look from the days when she used to use him as her favorite punching bag.

"Here I come to save you. DRIVING across town, and you're off getting laid?!"

"Hey, don't see how it's any business of yours." he said defensively, trying to convince himself as much as her.

"Yeah . . . well . . . you're just . . .a slut." she shoved him out of her way and down towards his door as she began to stamp up the stairs.

"That's right, run off, tail between your little slayer legs."

She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and she wasn't going to reply. Behind her, she could here the door opening and slamming shut. She paused, not wanting him to get the last words in when he was clearly in the wrong, when she heard a loud crash behind her.

She spun on her heels, leapt down the stairs, through the door, her stake once again raised. Inside she found Spike his forehead resting against the wall, his fist still embedded in the crater he'd made punching that self same wall.

"Spike?"

"Get the fuck out!" his voice was ragged, as if he were crying.

"Spike what is it? What's wrong? Oh, god I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. . . I shouldn't have. . ."

She crossed over to him, and reached out to comfort him, but he pulled away, then he shoved her.

"I said GET OUT! What part of that don't you understand Slayer?"

"Obviously the part where I've ever done anything you've asked me to," she said trying to lighten the mood as she reached for him again.

This time when he tried to fend her off she grabbed his wrists and pulled him in close. He struggled against her but she held him tight. Finally he gave up and she put her arms around him and held him as he cried.

His arms were around her, squeezing her very tightly, and once he had given in, the sobs came uncontrollably. His whole body shook and he couldn't seem to hold her tight enough.

She didn't know how long they stood like that. Her whispering comforting things and him crying. But finally the sobs subsided and he pulled back.

"Fine. Good. That's done now. You can go." he tried to sound commanding, but his voice was still broken and he wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Spike I'm really sorry. It's really none of my business, where you go, what you do."

"Yeah, well it isn't. But that's not the point. What do you think you're the center of my bleeding world? Ever occur to that the water works had nothing to do with you? So you can just shove off now, y' hear?"

"Well if it had nothing to do with me I'm defiantly not leaving. Aren't I your friend? You know you can tell me anything. . . Don't you?"

He sank down against the wall. She sat next to him, taking the hand he'd punched the wall with into hers.

"Okay so I lied. It is you. At least in part. I'm just. . . I'm lonely okay?"

"Not too lonely apparently," she said under her breath. At the hurt look in his eye she quickly back peddled, "Sorry, didn't mean that. Go on."

"Go on? That's all there is, isn't there? Just going on and on. You know, things would have been a lot easier if I really had died in Sunnydale. Nice dramatic exit. Fighting the good fight and all."

"Better for who? You do KNOW that Dawn and I missed you?" she looked into his eyes, searching there for her answers, but all she saw was the familiar doubt. The look he gave her that said, 'You don't REALLY care, you never REALLY cared.'

It was more than she could stand. That even now after everything that had happened he could doubt that he was important to her. Before she could form another coherent thought she was kissing him.

He was taken by surprise, so her tongue easily made it's way down his throat. Surprised or no, his reflexes were as sharp as ever, and it only took a moment for him to respond. To return the kiss, and to pull her onto his lap.

The kiss grew more and more passionate, and Buffy found herself rubbing up and down against him. Eagerly pressing herself against the erection she had missed earlier in the day.

Her hands roamed down his chest, till they reached his jeans. Then she pulled his shirt upward in a violent motion that forced their lips apart for a second.

He growled, as their lips met each other again and he rolled her onto her back. His hands reached under her tank top to find her breasts. She hadn't put on a bra when she had woken up so her nipples were there, accessible and waiting for his hand to claim.

He squeezed her nipple and her hips surged up while her legs tightened about his waist. She reached into the tight space between them, to undo his fly, and let loose his hard member. Just as she undid the zipper and put her hand around his cock, she broke off their kiss to bite his neck, remembering how that used to set him off.

But as her lips neared his neck she saw the lipstick marks again.

One moment Spike was in complete bliss. The Slayer's small hand encircling his cock, squeezing him, rubbing him. His own hand filled with her soft breast. The next he had been thrown back, by a kick from the slayer, who was scrambling to her feet.

"What?" he started to ask.

"This is disgusting," the minute she said it, she realized how that must sound to him. "Not you, but, yes you. You fuck some other woman, you're still covered with her, and then you expect me to sleep with you?"

"As I remember, I didn't expect anything. I've been trying to get rid of you. You're the one who jumped me. But you always did forget that part didn't you Slayer?" the way he said slayer it was as if it was something dirty. "Nice to know how far we've come along."

He turned his back to her, and zipped himself back up, then headed over to the cabinet. She watched as he pulled out the bottle of whiskey she'd bought for him, and poured it down the sink.

"No thank you. I'm done with you, you . . . fucking tease. ARE YOU STILL HERE?" he started to move toward her, but it didn't matter, she turned, and ran out of the room and up the stairs crying.

As the sound of her footsteps faded. He looked down at the empty bottle in his hand. "Fuck, there ought to be a law against this sort of thing." He licked the neck of the bottle, savoring the few drops that were left of the beautiful liquor he'd just thrown out.

"It's for the best, not like she didn't know, can't take this any more. She's too. . ." he never finished the thought, as he looked out the door, imagining the beautiful girl he'd just thrown out.

"Hello?"

"Happy Solstice Willow! Or is it Merry Solstice, I never know."

"Hey Buffy, thanks, but actually the Solstice was a couple of days ago. Not that I don't appreciate the non Xmas greeting. After all, Wicca Jew here. That sounds wrong somehow, or at least east coast."

Buffy laughed, it was good to hear Willow's voice again. She really missed her friend.

"So how's Kennedy?"

"Good."

"Just good? Not sounding too enthused there Will. No trouble in paradise I hope?"

"No trouble, though I don't think I'd call it paradise. More a purgatory, you know, maybe some day we'll get to the paradise parts."

"Purgatory not the symbolism one generally uses for good relationships. I take it Kennedy's not all you hoped?"

"It's not that. I mean, I didn't really hope for anything. It's not like I ever expected her to be Tara or anything. It's just . . . she doesn't really get me. She's so young. Not that I'm old lady Willow. It's just, she's never understood about the magic, not really. She thinks that after the major mojo it took to awaken all the potential Slayers, I should be able to do anything, no fear, no worry. She doesn't get that for all it's potential goodness, there's lots of potential badness. Just waiting around corners, lurking."

"I'm sorry. I hope things work out, of course if they don't, I'm sure you'll find someone else. Speaking of lurking though. . ."

"Ah ha! I knew it. The Willometer told me that you didn't just call cause it was Christmas. Things not working with your dad? Oh. Wait. You said lurking. It's Angel isn't it. Did he do something? Did he say something? Cause if he needs a stern talking to, you just let me know and I'll call him up, and waggle my finger at him."

"It's not Angel, Will." Buffy smiled. She was so glad she'd called her friend. It had been hard to get away from her dad and Dawn to have a private conversation, but she really needed this. She'd been stuck in a wiggins since last night. "It's Spike."

"I know Buff. I know how hard it can be to let someone go, especially someone you loved. Heck you know that too. At least you're willing to admit your grief."

"Um actually Willow, he's not dead, or not big pile of dust, buried under a ton of rock dead. He's here in L.A. And did you say love? Who said anything about love?"

"What he's alive? When, what, why wasn't I told. I thought I was in the loop, how'd I end up un-loopy?"

"I'm sorry Willow, I didn't want to upset anyone. It's not like he was you guys favorite person, err vampire. I only found out myself a month ago. Andrew ran into him when he was here getting Dana, you know the crazy slayer."

"Harumph. Well, I forgive you this time. Especially since you obviously called to fill me in on some dirt, but remember, I'm loop girl. There is no loop without Willow."

"Gotcha. Promise next time someone comes back from the dead you'll be the first person I tell."

"You are forgiven, okay go on. What'd he do? What happened? What was it like seeing him again?"

"It was great at first. Dawn and I went to see him yesterday, we took him gifts, and he. . . oh god Willow, he gave me this locket, it's kind of cheesy, you know sweet sixteenish, but inside there's a picture of my mom. I . . . I"

"Wow, that's wonderful. I know how much it upset you, loosing all your pictures. And hey, 10 points go to Spike in the gift giving category. So what ELSE happened."

"I . . . well . . . Like I said it was really nice, and we left, and it was all very friendly. But then last night I had this dream. He was in it, and this brunette, and they were, you know. But anyway she was carving him up with a knife while they were doing IT. Anyway, I woke up, and I thought at first that it was a slayer dream, even though it came in the middle of this dream of. . . well, anyway, I rushed over to his place, but he wasn't there. So I was about to leave when he shows up, and he's got this cheap skanky perfume on, and there are big lipstick marks on his neck. So I say something to him, and he says something back, and next thing I know he's slammed the door in my face, and I hear this smashing sound, so I go in, and he's been punching the wall (what is it with guys and wall punching anyway?) and he's crying so I comfort him, even though he yells at me to get out, but I don't and then he tells me how lonely he is, and how he wishes he'd died in Sunnydale, and next thing I know I'm kissing him, and then I realize that he's still covered in cheap hooker, and I'm like, ewwww, so I push him away, and we yell again, and he pours out the gift I gave him, and then I left, and what am I going to do Willow?"

"Breathing might be a good place to start. Um, look Buffy, I'm not sure I got everything in there, but you love him, and if you didn't let him know you wanted to get back together, you can't really blame him for sleeping with someone else. You didn't tell him you wanted to get together did you? I might have missed it."

"No. I never said anything like that. And why do you keep saying love?"

"Buffy you're in love with Spike. I don't know how you can't know this. I thought you told me that you told him, before he pulled his Phoenix act. We all know you love him, know you loved him, back in Sunnydale. Why do you think we were all wiggy about him and the trigger. Do you think we wanted you to have to kill another guy you loved?"

"That's ridiculous. I mean, sure I love him, like a friend love him. Like I love you and Xander, love him. But I'm not in love with him. And I certainly wasn't back in Sunnydale. I was too busy stopping the end of the world to fall in love. I just told him that 'cause it seemed the thing to do, what with the big sacrifice and all."

"Uh-huh, yeah sure. Whatever. Look Buffy, even Giles knew you were in love with him. Why do you think he was so determined to keep you to apart?"

"Not following your logic there Will. Mind taking me around that bend?"

"Giles wasn't there when Spike showed back up all soulful, and none of us ever gave him the story. Probably cause we didn't want to go into why Spike left. He just assumed that Spike had been cursed like Angel. He asked me about it post-Sunnydale. 'I admit Willow,'" she said doing her best Giles impersonation, "'That I didn't think it was a good idea that you seemed to be going around cursing vampires with souls, willy-nilly. But I must say, it did work out for us in the end, all though it was a bit of a risk.'"

"Oh god."

"Buffy?"

"Giles was worried that I'd make Spike happy and he'd lose his soul?"

"That's about the long and the short of it."

"Oh god. Willow, that night, when you guys through me out of the house. Spike found me, and he comforted me, and we slept together. I don't mean that, I mean, I do mean that. But he just held me, that's all, and we slept. No sex or anything. Anyway, the point is, he told me the next day, that, that had been the happiest night of his life. Even better than when we had been having sex. I mean, if there had been a curse, he would have lost his soul."

"But Buffy, there was no curse, so happiness, not a bad thing."

"You don't understand Will, Angel, he had to sleep. . . err. . . have sex with me to be happy. I mean, how much of it was me as a person Buffy, and how much was just the big O. But Spike, Spike the walking-hard-on-"

"T.M.I.!"

"Oh, sorry. Uh anyway, Spike, was happy just being with me. Even if I wasn't WITH HIM with him. Even if it was only as friends. I. . . god I hate it when I think about that. I mean he got his soul for me. No other vampire has ever done that, ever wanted to do that. I . . . how can I be worthy of that kind of love? Why can't I love him back?"

"Eureka, we've found the problem. Look Buffy, no one but you knows for sure how you feel, but my every best-friend instinct is telling me, has been telling me, that you love Spike. You're just scared. Trust me on this Buffy, if anybody is worthy, if anybody deserves to be loved like that, it's you. And you know what? Even if you never loved him, even if you never even liked him, he would go on loving you, so what's there to be scared of. Spike's a sure thing, and (never thought I'd say this) Spike's a good man. So here's what you're going to do. Go to him. Say you're sorry. Tell him you're a big idiot, and that you were just insanely jealous because you love him so much, and trust me, Buffy, it'll all work out."

"I don't know Will. I want to love Spike. Everything in my life would be so easy if I did. But. . ."

"No buts! Now go. If you could see me, you'd see I'm pointing at the door. Trust me Buffy. Talk to him. It'll all work out."

"You really thing so Will?"

"I know so. And I'm Wicca Girl, so you better believe it missy. Oh, and Buffy. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas Will, and thanks. Bye."

This was like a bad re-run. There she was standing outside his door again wondering what to say, what to do.

She knew she was going to mess it up again. She knew sharing her feelings was not her strong point.

Not to mention, what if he wasn't there. What if 'she', whomever 'she' was, was there. What would Buffy do then. What if he had a totally new woman there with him. Buffy didn't think she could deal with that. And another jealous rage wouldn't help things.

She started to leave. But then she thought the longer she waited the worse it would be. She came back to his door. But then she was afraid he'd slam the door in her face, wouldn't even talk to her. She started to leave again.

Back and forth, again and again, she kept going in circles, too scared to either knock on his door or leave.

She was back in front of the door again. This time she would do it. This time she would knock.

But before she could, the door flew open of it's own accord and she had to leap back to avoid being whacked in the face with it. There stood a very angry Spike.

"Come in, or go the hell away, just stop bloody tap dancing on my doorstep." He didn't close the door, he didn't even look to see what she would do, he just turned and went back into the apartment.

She went in and closed the door behind her.

"Spike I-"

Before she could continue he spun around again, and was suddenly standing close to her. Too close, almost nose-to-nose. Flames were practically leaping from his eyes.

"I changed my mind. Get the fuck out. I got nothing left to say to you."

He tried to stare her down.

"I'm sorry," it came out as barely a whisper, not because she didn't mean it, but because it was hard to speak up when being stared down like that.

He spun away from her. If he keeps this up, Buffy thought, I'm going to get dizzy.

"Yeah, sure you are," he didn't sound like he believed her, but he sounded a tiny bit less angry. "And what exactly is it you've come to apologize for?"

"For not being more honest," she said.

He laughed at her. "I think you're going to have to be a little more specific than that. I mean, when have you been the slightest bit honest with yourself or anyone else, in your entire bloody life?"

She almost hit him.

"I don't see why I should be honest when you don't believe me even when I tell the truth."

He was in front of her again, starting her down, using his eyes like swords to cut her down.

"Oh? Do tell. When were YOU ever honest with me?"

If he was going to stand this close to her, she figured she'd take advantage of it. She grabbed his hand in hers, mimicking their last gestures on top of the Hellmouth. "I love you." She had meant to say it forcefully, so he wouldn't doubt her. But once again his eyes seemed to steal her voice away.

That caught him by surprise.

Seeing that she actually had a chance to speak before he started yelling again, Buffy continued, "I love you. And I want to try and make it work. And I'm sorry about last night, but I was jealous okay? I was mad at you for being with someone else when you're supposed to be mine. And I don't even know if you want me anymore."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I want. . ." he looked at her again, and took her head in one of his hands, weaving his fingers through her hair. "I want you. Always. I love you Buffy, you know that."

His other hand strayed to her waist.

"So kiss me," she said.

He pulled her close and their lips touched, pulled away, and touched again.

One of her hands was on his chest and she began running it up and down feeling the tight muscles through the soft cotton.

The kissing stopped and he rested his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply. Breathing her in.

"Buffy," he said reverently. Then the hand on her waist moved around her, under her butt to lift her up off the ground while his other hand steadied her back. In two quick steps they were across the room and she was lying on his bed, with him standing over her.

She was wearing a red satin blouse and a black velvet skirt she had picked out for christmas. She propped herself up on one arm, looked him straight in the eye, and began to slowly unbutton her blouse.

He watched with hungry eyes and licked his lips.

She reached the last button, but before she could take off the shirt, Spike was on the bed next to her. He began kissing her neck as his hands reached for her shoulders and slipped the blouse off of her. Next he hooked his fingers under the straps of her red lace bra, just above her breasts, and ran his knuckles along her skin up to her shoulders. Then he slipped the straps down, and deftly undid the clasp in back.

As soon as her breasts where free he attacked them. His mouth went instantly to suck one nipple as his hand played with the other.

Buffy let out a sigh, and leaned back. Closing her eyes to block out everything but the feel of his tongue and fingers as he worshiped her breasts.

Opening her eyes, she began to run her fingers through his hair. She loved the feel of his hair. It was so silky and soft. She loved how it curled naturally, and it annoyed her that he always tried to slick it back.

As much as she loved the attention he was lavishing on her breasts, she couldn't help but greedily wish he'd move farther down. As if he'd read her mind, he lifted his head to look at her and flash her a devilish smile.

She heard two thuds as her shoes flew across the room. He ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, hooked his fingers into the waistband of her nylons and panties, and divested her of both in one smooth movement.

He took her right foot and kissed the inside of the arch. She squirmed remembering the massage he'd given her the other day. He left a trail of kisses up the inside of her leg, moving from her ankle all the way to the inside of her knee. Then he dropped the right foot, and did the same to the left.

It was driving her crazy. Why wouldn't he just get on with it?

"Spike?" came her plea.

He smiled, "What is it, pet. Something I can do for you?" His voice was pure silken innuendo. It made her shiver.

"Yes."

"Yes what, luv? What is it you want?"

"Devour me."

He chuckled, "Still giving orders, pet?"

"Please," she begged.

He growled in triumph before pressing his face into the dampness between her legs.

Buffy threw back her head in ecstasy as his cool tongue began to explore her. He traced her outer lips with his tongue, causing her to moan. Then he placed a finger inside of her and started to pump her. He paused after a moment, removed his finger and looked her in the eye as he sucked her juices off of it.

Then he began in earnest. His finger was back insider her followed by it's neighbor. His head was back between her legs and at last he began to tease her clit. He flicked the tip of his tongue at it, then licked it, then sucked it. Always shifting his actions at the right moment.

She could feel the passion building deep in her womb. Her legs were quivering and to steady them she dug her heels into his back. She used her hands to try and pull his face even closer to her center and her hips began to rise and fall as she tried to urge him on.

Somewhere she could here someone screaming. Then she realized it was her, "Oh god, Spike, Yes, More, Spike, God, Please, Yes," in an endless litany.

It was too much, it was unbearable. She was completely out of control. There was nothing to do but surrender to it.

Her body jerked violently as wave after wave of pleasure hit her. She crushed him to her, holding him in place as the orgasm washed over her.

Finally she let him go.

She watched contentedly as his tongue snaked out to lick her juices off his chin. Next he sucked his fingers one by one, looking directly at her still quaking body all the time.

"Hey, that's not right," Buffy suddenly said, indignant.

"What's that pet?" he asked, obviously puzzled since he was sure he'd done everything just right.

"You've still got ALL your cloths on." Before he could move a muscle, she pounced, flying off the bed to hit him square in the chest and to send them both crashing to the floor.

She grabbed at his shirt before he could figure out what she was doing and lifted it straight up, almost completely off of him. She stopped though just before the cotton passed his wrists and twisted the fabric, bringing his hands together, and forming an improvised restraint. She then tied the twisted t-shirt around the leg of the couch.

It was a very flimsy holding device for a vampire she knew, but the excited look in his eyes told her that Spike would play along with her little game.

She was straddling him now just above the waist, her pussy dripping onto his now bare abs. She reached up to his wrists and traced his tight muscles all the way down his arms to his chest. She leaned forward, dragging her nipples up along his chest until her mouth could reach his. With a wicked grin she bit one.

HIs whole body jerked under her and she could hear the couch scrape along the floor as he cried "Buffy!"

She laughed mischievously, and flicked her hair behind her head. Then she began to drag her her pussy down his body. She lifted herself up off of him when she would have been over the bulge in his jeans, holding herself up out of reach as he tried to trust up to meet her.

She made a clicks sound like she was scolding a child, "None of that now."

Looking him in the eye as he whimpered, she reached down and began to divest him of his jeans. She watched in delight as his cock sprang forward eagerly, straining to touch any part of her.

She had other plans though. She began to kiss his soft inner thighs. Then she licked them. Then she began to nip. He wriggled under her, hoping against hope to direct her mouth toward his cock. Finally he gave in.

"Please Buffy. God please suck my dick."

"Well . . ." she said as if it was a proposition that required serious thought. "Since you asked nicely. . ." She licked her lips.

Her mouth was on him then. She eagerly sucked as much of his length as she could into his mouth. She was done teasing him. Her mouth slid back up, until only the head of his cock was in her mouth. She sucked even harder, which pulled a long moan out of him.

Finally she put her hand around the base of his cock and started pumping him in earnest. As her mouth slid up and down along his length she alternated sucking and swirling her tongue around his member. Her other hand reached lower to find and cup his balls.

"Fuck. Yes. Buffy. God. Buffy. Please. Yes." He went on and on, "I can't. . . It's too. . . Now. I'm going to cum. Now. . . Buffy. Can't wait." But she didn't stop or even slow down her work. She wanted this. Wanted to taste him the way her always tasted her.

"GOD." There was a crashing sound as the force of Spikes orgasm caused him to flip the couch he was tied to, causing it to crash into the television and the wall. As the leg of the couch swept up into the air, the t-shirt slipped off of it, releasing his hands.

He lay there for a moment unaware of his surroundings. Then he realized he was free. He smiled at Buffy, who screeched, realizing she didn't have the time to recover she thought she would. She leapt to her feet, but he had his arms around her in a second. It was payback time.

Buffy lay on her side, clutching the sheets, as Spike thrust in and out of her from behind, in long slow strokes. One of his hands rested on her hip, which he used to pull himself in and out. His mouth nuzzled her neck and shoulder.

She was amazed that he could be so gentle with her and still be so passionate. It made all that time she'd spent making him hurt her see absurd. This was so much better. Not that she didn't feel like a rough fuck later on. But right now this was perfect.

He shifted his hand from her hip to her stomach which altered their relative positions slightly. When he thrust back into her he the tip of his cock brushed her in just the right place.

"Oh god! Spike!" she cried out as her entire body began to tremble with pleasure.

"Found you're sweet spot did I?" he chuckled. She didn't have to be able to see him to know that he was smiling wickedly; she could hear it in his voice. His hand tightened around her stomach as he began to speed up, careful not to shift their positions again.

He hit her deep inside, faster and faster, harder and harder. Each thrust forced another scream from her lips. She felt like her whole body was trembling violently. It was almost too much. She was no longer in control of any of her body. All there was was that place deep inside her where only he had ever touched her.

Her vision blurred. She was so close, she had gone from clutching the sheets to digging her fingers into the mattress. She didn't think she could take anymore.

"That's it pet, come for me," he crooned in her ear.

Something in his voice re-awoke a little of her old stubbornness. He was speaking to her like he controlled her body. Like he could make it feel whatever he wanted. The fact that he usually could only made her feel stubborner.

Then some part of her mind idly noticed the red numbers on his alarm clock flash 11:59. One more minute she thought, I'll hold on one more minute. Right at the stroke of midnight. I can hold on till then. No giving in till then.

She bit her lip in a vain attempt to regain control of her body. Finally the clock flashed 12:00. She was ready to give in when he next thrust inside her. But he never did.

Suddenly he wasn't touching her anywhere any more. Her body ached from the lack of his touch. A chill ran down her spine. This had happened before.

Her dream.

"Spike?" she asked worried. He wasn't on the bed anymore. She sat up to look for him, and he was calmly walking across the room to where his duster was hanging by the door. He didn't look at her, didn't seem to know that she was even there.

He grabbed something out of the pocket of his duster, and then he walked out the door. Completely naked.

Something was defiantly wrong. Panicked, Buffy looked around the room to find her skirt and blouse. She pulled the skirt on, then as soon as her arms were through the sleeves of her blouse, she ran out the door, buttoning it up as she went.

She easily caught up to him in the parking lot of the building. He didn't seem to be in any hurry.

"Spike? Spike what's going on." He still didn't seem to know she was there. "Spike, please tell me what's going on." She put her hand on his arm, hoping to gain his attention.

It worked. He looked at her hand. Then he grabbed her by both arms, lifted her and threw her across the parking lot. She crashed right through the windshield of a truck and landed in the cab setting off the car alarm.

But the time she managed to pull herself out of the truck there was no sign of Spike.

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

"More egg nog Fredikins?" asked Lorne, who had appointed himself bar tender for the night.

"No, I'm fine Lorne thanks. Actually Ah could use a bit of water."

"For you, anything," the green demon in the, Santa Clause meets disco, suit said.

Angel smiled. It was good to see his friends all happy. They'd had Christmas dinner at Fred's the night before. The idea had been to get together on Christmas Eve as friends to allow them to spend time with their loved ones on Christmas Day.

Then they'd realized how silly that was. Of all his friends only Fred and Wesley had any family. But neither of their families were in town. Besides, when all was said and done, the old gang from Angel Investigations was a family. So Angel had suggested that they all come over to his place for Christmas.

All in all it had been a success. The evening had flown by. They all needed the break and they'd been able to be just friends without having to worry about fighting evil. It was working out to be a perfect evening.

Then the phone rang. Sighing, Angel went to pick it up.

"Angel," he answered.

"Sir, this is security down at the front desk."

"Yes, what is it?" he asked annoyed.

"Sir, the Slayer just came in badly injured. Should we get rid of her or allow her in? Sir?" but there was no one there to respond. At the word 'injured' Angel had dropped the phone and rushed out of the room.

His friends all noticed immediately. Without question they set down their drinks and hurried to join him at the elevator.

"Angel what is it? Not trouble I hope?" asked Wesley.

"It's Buffy, she's here. She's hurt."

"Buffy? As in the Slayer Buffy?" Fred asked.

"Well that can't be good." Lorne added.

The elevator quickly descended to the ground floor. Angel burst out of the door. He was immediately greeted by several smells. Buffy, her blood, her sweat, her sex, and worst of all, Spike. He didn't even realize that he'd shifted to his game face.

He crossed the lobby with his full speed, leaving his friends behind to catch up. He saw Buffy, she was leaning against the front desk. She was barefoot, and her shirt and skirt had been sliced in several places in the back. It was from these same places that he could smell her blood.

Before she could say anything he had grabbed her arms as if to shake her. "Spike? Where is he?" he demanded.

"First of all, Ow," she said, sounding more annoyed than in pain. He released her.

"Angel?" Fred asked. The others had caught up to him.

"We should get her up to medical," Wesley said.

"Shouldn't we find out what did this to the Slayer? And if it's about to come knocking on our door?" Gunn asked.

"It was Spike," growled Angel as they began to move the wounded Slayer to the elevator.

"What? No," said Buffy, "Well, okay yeah, technically, yes. But it wasn't really him. Spike's a zombie."

"Is that even possible?" Fred asked. They were in the elevator heading up to medical.

"Okay, so maybe not a ZOMBIE, zombie. But he was zombie like. Something's wrong with him."

"Nothing a stake through the heart won't fix."

"ANGEL. It's not his fault, it's a woman. I think. Maybe. I don't know. But he's defiantly not himself," Buffy said.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out, herding Buffy toward medical.

"It could be done maybe. If you distilled the mystical component of a zombie and mixed it with a vampire's blood," Fred began to ramble. They all stopped to look at her. "But I doubt Spike's an actual zombie. And why would you want a vampire zombie anyway?"

"Perhaps Buffy better start from the beginning." Wesley interjected.

"Okay, so I, um, went to see Spike. And things where going along just fine, then all of a sudden he gets up and leaves."

"Maybe he had someplace to be. By the way, I'm Charles Gunn," he offered her his hand.

"Buffy Summers. Nice to meat you," she looked around at the others that she didn't know.

"I'm Lorne sweetie, and our little rambler here is Fred."

"Nice t' meet you," she said, as she began bandaging the tiny cuts on Buffy's back.

"Likewise. So back to Spike. I'm thinking he didn't just suddenly realize he was late for an appointment and go rushing off without his clothes." Buffy's eyes went wide, realizing what she'd just admitted to, and she began to blush.

"He took off his cloths before he left?" they all looked at Fred, "Oh, never mind," she said, blushing.

Buffy cleared her throat to regain her composure. "So anyway, I went after him, but he didn't even seem to know I was there. So I touched him, really gently, just put my hand on his arm, and he stopped and through me across the parking lot. By the time I'd gotten back to my feet he was gone."

"Well, that does seem odd. I'll contact the psychics see if they can track him. Although if he's under some sort of mind control that could be difficult." Wesley said as he started to leave.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Who says anything's wrong with Spike. He's probably just went out for a drink," Angel said.

"Naked?" Fed asked.

"I have to say Angel, man, this doesn't sound like normal behavior for Spike." He paused thoughtfully and looked at Buffy, "When you take into account the hottie, doesn't sound normal for any man, period," Gunn said.

"Spike's not normal," but Angel didn't even sound convincing to himself.

"Which is why we have to find him. Personally the idea of our knight in shinning leather being under the control of who-knows-what gives me the hebbie-gebbies." Lorne said.

"Which is precisely why we should find him right away. We can also check with the police, a man walking around naked is sure to attract at least some attention." Wesley added.

"Hey wait. I think he took the snake. I didn't see it after he left." Buff said.

"Now there's a snake?" Gunn asked.

"Not a snake. Damn it, what did Dawn call it. It was this red sports car, it was. . . "

"The Viper. Spike's driving my Viper naked." He loved that car. Now there was no way he could ever drive it again unless he had the whole thing reupholstered.

"Viper, yeah that was it."

"Well, that gives a good starting place then. Wolfram & Hart have an excellent anti-theft tracking system for all company vehicles." Wesley said, "We should be able to find him in no time."

Buffy felt silly wearing the lab coat. Especially since she had to roll the sleeves up several times. But her clothes had been pretty well ripped in back by the glass from the truck window. Luckily even if she and Fred didn't wear the same size coat their shoe size was the same and Fred kept an extra pair of shoes in the lab in case of gooky fluids.

By the time they rejoined the others in Angel's office, Wesley had already made his inquiries.

"As I suspected, the psychics weren't able to find Spike, however we did trace the Viper to an upscale apartment building not too far from here. I'm afraid I can't narrow it down any more than that." Wesley reported.

"No that's good. Just get me in the general vicinity and I should be able to sense Spike." Buffy said.

Wesley nodded, then continued, "You mentioned a woman earlier. Is there anything you can tell us that might give us an idea of what we are dealing with?"

"Um, she's a brunette. Actually I'm not entirely sure about the woman part. I had a dream, it was Slayeresque, but not definitively prophetic, you know?" Obviously they didn't. "Anyway, in the dream they were, you know, having sex, but the whole time she was carving these symbols on his chest."

Wesley grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from Angel's desk and handed them to Buffy. She closed her eyes trying to remember the dream. Luckily she'd taught herself to memorize arcane symbols a long time ago. You never knew when the bad guy would be wearing a clue, or have it tattooed to his forehead or something.

She quickly drew a couple lines and then handed it back to Wesley. "That's the only one I got a clear look at, but I think there were a total of three."

Wesley looked at what she had drawn and his eyes went wide and his face paled. "Oh dear," he said as if he'd discovered that someone hadn't put the milk back in the fridge. "You said there were three symbols yes?" she nodded and he took up the pen and quickly scribbled down something. He then showed what he had written to Buffy, "Were these the other symbols?"

Despite not having gotten a clear look at them in her dream, the moment she saw them she knew they were the correct ones, the same way one knew things in dreams. "Yeah, so what's happening to Spike?" she demanded.

"I have absolutely no idea. But it can't be good."

"Well that was informative." Gunn remarked.

"Wes, the symbols what are they?" Angel asked.

"Yes, well, the symbol Buffy saw is commonly associated with Megaera."

"Who's some demon king right?" prompted Gunn.

"No, quite the contrary, Megaera is hardly a demon. She's not even evil, really. She's one of the Erinyes, or Furies. The other two symbols are for Alecto and Tisiphone her sisters."

"The Furies, can't say they sound like people I'd want over for Christmas dinner." Gunn said.

"They're Greek gods of vengeance," Angel added.

"Like vengeance demons?" Buffy asked.

"Oh no. Quite different," Wesley said, "Vengeance demons grant wishes for people who suffered what are usually rather trivial wrongs in the great scheme of things. The Erinyes on the other hand punished crimes, usually murder, especially matricide. Generally by driving the murderer to kill themselves. However, I can't imagine how all of this could involve Spike. Even if someone wanted revenge for someone Spike had killed, well, they wouldn't need him to be physically present, all they would have to do is invoke the Furies and they would find him. And if he were being tormented by the Furies he wouldn't seem like a zombie. He'd most likely act crazy or depressed."

"So we don't know that this has anything to with what's happening to Spike at all," Angel said.

"I'd hardly discount a Slayer's dreams so quickly. But right now, I don't think this is going to tell us much. I'll have my department work on it, in the mean time, even if we are rushing in blind, I think our best course of action is to find Spike." Wesley said.

"Finally." Buffy said. She appreciated the need for research, it had certainly saved her more than once, but she was worried about Spike. She needed to see him, needed to know he was all right.

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

Despite herself Rebecca Worthington blushed when the vampire arrived completely naked, and completely erect. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd gone to another bar to pick up another girl.

It didn't matter. Such a girl was hardly likely to have the slightest clue as to who she had invited to her bed.

She lead Spike to the guest bedroom which had been locked on his previous visit so as to hide the iron chair that sat in the room.

"Sit," she commanded, and he did so. She quickly closed the manacles over his wrists and feet. He was completely under her control, and would remain so as long as she had access to his blood, but if the Watcher's Academy had taught her anything, it was never to underestimate a vampire.

She looked around the room. Everything was ready for the ritual.

The Erinyes may have turned her down her cry for justice the first time. They may have claimed that since two of the four responsible for her mother's death were already dead, their still living lovers would suffer more in life than in death.

But now instead of asking for their help avenging her mother's death, she would actually funnel some of their essence into the vampire, allowing him to become her tool of vengeance. He would be virtually unstoppable until Willow Rosenberg and Alexander Harris were dead.

Now if only she didn't have to worry about finding him some clothes.

"This should be the place. Buffy?" asked Wesley as they got out of Angel's car. One of Angel's cars that was. Buffy couldn't understand why he was so upset about one car when he had a dozen others. If she didn't know that he was well over two hundred years old she would have suspected him of having a mid-life crisis.

"Crap, the only vampire I sense is Angel," Buffy said.

"There's the Viper, looks like old Spikey boy was here though." Gunn said resting his axe on his shoulder. Buffy couldn't help but looking at it from the corner of her eye. She didn't want to be rude and stare, but it look almost like it had been made out of a hubcap.

"In that case I suggest we see if we can find any clues as to where he has gone." Wesley said.

Angel sniffed the air. "This way," he headed toward the entrance to the apartment complex.

They went inside, and Angel lead them to an elevator. "Looks like we're taking the stairs."

"Why? Elevator's not out." Gunn said.

"I can't smell which button he pressed. I'll have to sniff each floor individually until we find the right one. The stairs will be faster than waiting for the doors to open and close on every floor." Angel replied.

Nine floors later. Angel's nose lead them to apartment 914. They all looked at each other.

Gunn shrugged and said, "Knock knock." And banged loudly on the door.

After a few moments the door opened the length of the security chain and a woman peered out at them. "Yes?" she asked.

Buffy may not have had a vampire's sense of smell, but she would have recognized that skanky perfume anywhere. "YOU!" she shouted, and slammed herself into the door with enough force to break the chain and send the woman flying back into the room.

"The girl does make an entrance, you have to give her that." Gunn said as he followed Buffy into the room.

"Really, I'm not sure th-" Wesley stopped suddenly as he got a look at the woman sprawled on the floor. "Rebecca?!" They all turned to look at Wesley.

"Hello Wesley," the woman said as she lifted herself up off the floor. Her accent was unmistakably british. "And you my dear, judging by your manners, you must be Buffy Summers."

"And you're dead if you don't tell me what you did to Spike." Buffy said hauling the woman to her feet.

"Oh dear," Wesley said, "You're not still performing those experiments are you?"

"Hardly, what would be the point? Miss Summers here has already done that work for me."

"Okay anyone want to fill in the blanks for those of us not from Merry Olde England?" Gunn said.

"Yes of course," Wesley said, "This is Rebecca Worthington, she and I went to the Watcher's Academy together. In fact she was Head Girl. However, the council later fired her when they discovered that she had been performing magical experiments on the blood of the Potential she was training. Not to mention her research into several areas involving vampires and forbidden blood rights."

"Neat. Now where's Spike?" Buffy said shaking her.

"Well he's not here. Though I'm sure you're pet vampire could have told you that. I'm not sure where he is actually." Rebecca said.

"Hey, I'm not a pet, I'm the boss here," Angel barked from just outside the doorway to the apartment. No one was paying any attention to him though.

"Yeah, but I'm betting you do know where he is. Or at least where he's going and," Buffy punched her fist through the wall next to the woman's head, "I think you're going to tell me."

"Now, now Miss Summers. You may be uncouth, uncivilized, and unreasonable. But I rather doubt that you will hurt a human being."

"Maybe not, but he's UNdead," Buffy quipped as she spun the woman around and tossed her out into the hallway and Angel's waiting arms. Angel even cooperated and vamped for effect.

"He has a soul, right? I mean. . . he won't . . ." the former Watcher gulped, her bravado no longer holding up. Angel growled, "Alright, just . . . look he's on his way to Brazil. Probably halfway there already. I chartered a flight for him."

"Why's he going to Brazil?" Buffy asked. How the hell was she going to get a flight to Brazil at this time of night?

The woman laughed, regaining some of her composure. "It doesn't matter, even if you got there in time, you couldn't stop him. Nothing can stop him, not sunlight, fire, stakes, decapitation. Nothing."

"Stop him from what?" Angel asked, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of an invulnerable Spike.

"Justice."

"Oh please," Buffy said, "if you want justice hire a lawyer, in fact I know just the law firm for you. You are obviously into the whole vengeance things. What with the Erin's eyes."

"The Erinyes," Wesley corrected from over by a desk where he was shuffling through papers.

"Whatever. Point is, you want someone dead don't you? Who is it?"

"I think I know," Wesley said, holding up a piece of paper. "Willow. And Xander as well from the looks of it."

"Willow? As in cute little red-headed witch, Willow?" Gunn asked.

"Let me see that," Buffy grabbed the paper from Wesley. It had two columns, one titled 'Location of Willow Rosenberg' the other 'Location of Alexander Harris'. Each column contained every address her two friends had stayed at for the past ten months.

"All right. That's it, no more games. Why are you after Willow and Xander?" Angel said as he slammed Rebecca into the hallway wall. He might not care much for Spike, but Willow, and even Xander had been friends of his. He didn't want anything to happen to them.

"Because those foolish children are responsible for my mother's death!" came the woman's angry retort.

"You're mother died in the explosion at the Council's headquarters. I don't see how that could possibly be their fault." Wesley said.

"Don't you? Idiot. But then that's why the Council fired you wasn't it," she looked around the room, "None of you know do you? None of you know what they did, the forces they tampered with, the powers they tapped into. Didn't it ever occur to you to wonder why in the thousands of years there have been Slayers, the First never tired to end the Slayer line until a year ago? It was because of her." She pointed at Buffy. "When her friends brought her back from the dead they altered the natural order of things, allowing the First the chance it needed. If your friends had only left you in the ground," she said glaring at Buffy, "the Council would still exist. My mother, the other Watchers, not to mention all those innocent girls would still be alive."

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

"It's not you fault Buffy, you can't blame yourself for any of this," Angel said.

Buffy wanted to believe him, but just couldn't.

"Angel's right you know. Even if what the crazy Watcher lady said was true, which it SO is not, it's not like you asked to come back," Dawn put her arm around her sister.

Buffy hugged her back, glad for her sister being there, even if it felt irresponsible dragging her along. Not that she had had any choice.

After they had gotten everything they could from Rebecca, Angel's team had leapt into action cell phones at the ready. Buffy had to admit, she was impressed, and glad she'd gone to them. She was starting to think that Giles was leaping to conclusions about the whole evil lawyer thing.

Wesley had called his department. They were going to clean out Rebecca's stash of mystical paraphernalia, and see if they could figure the spell she had cast on Spike and, hopefully, a way to stop him.

Gunn had called to schedule a flight for her and Angel on one of Wolfram & Hart's planes and to let the office in Rio know they were coming.

Angel had driven her to her father's house, so she could tell Dawn that she was going to have to fly to Brazil to find Spike. Not to mention to get some clothes better suited for fighting. On the way she'd used his cell phone to call Willow and Xander.

Her sister of course, hearing that Spike was in trouble had refused not only to go back to bed, but insisted on coming. The argument had woken their father. At which point Buffy realized they didn't have time for this, so she'd given in to Dawn, made a lame excuse to her father, and told him that his car would be returned once it had been cleaned.

On the way to the airport she'd called Giles to fill him in. Now they were on their way. According to Fred, Wolfram & Hart had special planes that not only had that mystic glass that protected vampires from the sun, but also went really fast, so they should actually be able to beat Spike to Brazil despite his head start.

"I know," she told Dawn, "it's not that I want to be dead or anything, but it's wrong me being here. I've always known that. It wasn't supposed to be this way." Buffy looked at her sister, scared that she would see the signs of one of Dawn's teenage, angst, tantrums. But her sister had grown up. Dawn understood this had nothing to do with whether or not Buffy wanted to be with her. "And now, here I am, flying to Brazil to keep my boyfriend from killing my best friend."

Dawn giggled and her face lit up, "Boyfriend? Does that mean you and Spike. . ?"

"He's not her boyfriend," Angel growled.

Before Dawn could make this worse Buffy spoke up, "Yeah, he is. Or maybe not so much right now, but I want him to be."

"What about cookie dough?"

Buffy took a deep breath. She didn't want to do this, but all things considered, Angel had been acting almost like an adult. He deserved an explanation.

"Look, that was, it was a nice idea. But it's not me. Or maybe I just baked quicker than I thought I would. I'm not The Slayer anymore, but I'm still, I'll always be, a Slayer. I'll never be a normal girl, I'll never have the normal life that you wanted for me, that I used to want. Not because of duty and responsibility, I mean all that stuff's real, but because I can't turn my back on who I am. Do you remember Kendra? She once told me that I talked about Slaying as if it was a job, but it's not, it's who I am. And she right. It took me a long time to realize that, to accept it, but it's true.

"And Spike gets that. He loves me for being the Slayer and for being Buffy. And. . .I love him. I know there's lots of stuff that he can't give me. But it's not all stuff I want. The kids, the dog, the picket fence I don't want that. I just want. . . I just want to be loved by someone I don't have to hide myself from or lie to. And that, Spike can give me."

"I'm going to check on our prisoner," Angel said and got up and left the cabin.

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

Willow was scared. Not so much of Spike, all though she couldn't say she was thrilled with the idea of being hunted by an invincible vampire. She was scared of herself.

That was really all she was ever scared of anymore. Most of the time she was okay. Most of the time she knew she had a handle on things. But, had she mentioned the invincible vampire that was hunting her. When push came to shove, Willow was scared that her survival instinct was too strong, that she would call on whatever power she needed to protect herself, and that way lay potential badness.

And then there was the guilt. She had brought this all on herself. There was no one to blame but her. When Buffy had called to warn Willow about Spike, she'd tried to leave out the part of why Rebecca Worthington wanted Willow dead. But Willow had insisted until Buffy told her.

Buffy had insisted that it wasn't true. That the former Watcher was just crazy. But it made too much sense to Willow. It just felt all too true.

And it wasn't just all those dead girls and Watchers that now haunted Willow, it was Tara and Anya. Had she not brought Buffy back, Warren would never have shot Tara. Had she not brought Buffy back, there wouldn't have been any uber-vamps to kill Anya.

Was she now going to be responsible for Xander's death too. That was almost the worst. Tara and Anya had had some idea, at least as much as Willow, as to what they were doing in bringing Buffy back. Xander had been, mystically speaking, an innocent. He simply didn't know enough about magic to understand the kind of power they had tapped into that night.

"It's going to be okay baby, it's just one vampire, and you've got you're own personal Vampire Slayer body guard." Kennedy said, trying to cheer her up.

For the vigintillionth time Willow wished Tara was there. Tara would have understood.

Things were not going well.

They had arrived in Brazil before Spike and made it to Willow and Kennedy's in no time. There had been hugs all around. Well between Buffy, Dawn, Willow, and Angel. Kennedy seemed to think she was more than enough to protect her girlfriend, not to mention she balked as soon as Buffy started making suggestions on how to set up a defense.

Okay, so Dawn would be the first to admit that Buffy could be bossy at times. But Buffy had been doing this sort of stuff for a lot longer, and this really wasn't the time to argue.

They'd agreed to make their stand inside the house. First of all, the sun would soon come up, so they would have to stay indoors if they wanted any help from Angel. Secondly, if they were lucky Spike would still need an invitation to get in.

They weren't lucky. About half and hour after the sun had risen, Spike simply flung the door open and walked in. Things had not improved from there.

First of all it was immediatly obvious that Buffy had held back on some of the details of just how evil this Rebecca woman was. For reasons Dawn could not possibly fathom, Spike was dressed, not in his usual black on black, but a pair of bellbottom jeans with pink flowers embrodered onto the legs, and an old, pink, Spice Girls t-shirt that read "Girl Power". Pink was deffinatly not his color. It just made him look even paler and deader, not to mention that he'd probably stake himself if he knew that he was wearing pink.

It was Kennedy who struck the first blow, or tried to anyway. She leapt at Spike with an axe yelling, "I'll show you girl power," a quip which Dawn ranked as a mere 6.3. Major loss of points for obviousness.

But Spike was not in the place Kennedy expected him to be. He grabbed the handle of the axe, twisted it, and slammed the flat of the blade into Kennedy's head. Before she could recover, he picked her up and threw her at Angel who was starting an attack of his own.

Dawn watched as Buffy, Angel, and Kennedy tried and failed to stop Spike's progress. Nothing seemed to hurt him or slow him down. Willow meanwhile kept her distance, throwing in spells, but they didn't seem to effect Spike.

Dawn's job was much simpler. They had brought Rebecca Worthington along with them. Often a witch, or at least some part of her, like her hair, was needed to break her own spell. So it seemed wise to drag her along. Now Dawn held a knife to the throat of the gagged and bound witch as she watched the others getting pummeled.

Spike broke past the other's defenses, grabbed Willow, and wrapped his hand around her throat, choking her, and preventing her from speaking.

Dawn looked around desperately. The others were all down. Buffy was trying to pull herself out of a wall, Angel was trapped in a small corner by the sunlight being let in by a fallen wall, and Dawn couldn't even see Kennedy.

She didn't know what else to do, so she spun around so her back was to Spike and she was facing Rebecca. Then she yanked on Rebecca's shoulders as Dawn tumbled over backwards. Dawn's foot rose up to catch Rebecca in the stomach and to throw her towards Spike.

It worked. Dawn gracefully rolled back up to her feet, while Rebecca flew over her head and into Spike and Willow. Spike interpreted Rebecca's momentum as an attack, and momentarily released Willow so as to bat Rebecca into Kennedy, who was just now reemerging from the outside.

Dawn rushed in between Spike and Willow, her knife upraised. She knew it was dumb, but there was nothing else she could do. Willow was still coughing and sputtering on the floor behind her. Maybe this would give her the time to get away.

She braced herself, tensing her muscles for the blow she was sure was coming. But it never did. He didn't try to hit her, or throw her, or kick her. Instead he tried to step around her. She moved with him, blocking him. So he tried to go around her the other way. Again Dawn blocked him, keeping herself between Spike and Willow.

Buffy rushed over to her little sister's aid, Spike turned sensing her, and sent her sprawling back to the floor. He turned back again, and once again tried to move toward Willow. But he seemed unwilling, or unable to touch Dawn.

Dawn reached behind her to give Willow a hand up, then the two of them backed into a wall. Spike followed.

"Um, guys? Any ideas here?" Dawn asked.

Kennedy started to charge Spike again when Buffy grabbed her arm.

"Hello, already made that mistake here. He's not attacking anyone right now. Let's take advantage of the time out and figure out what's going on. You okay Dawn?"

"Just peachy," not that Dawn really felt that way. It would have been easier not to be scared if Spike's eyes were not a red swirling vortex of energy. Never a good sign.

Buff grabbed a rug up off the floor and tossed it to Angel so that he could get past his prison of daylight and join the rest of them.

They were all so absorbed in watching the standoff between Dawn and Spike, that none of them noticed that Rebecca's gag had slipped during her fall. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the young girl who had come between her and her revenge. Spying a discarded axe she muttered under her breath and the axe lifted in the air, then flew end over end straight toward Dawn's head.

Dawn saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. Before her brain could process what it was, Spike leaped in front of her catching the axe with his shoulder. Spike fell to his knees.

"NO!" Rebecca screamed.

Blood began to trickle down Spikes chest in three distinct rivulets. As everyone watched the blood formed itself into three red snakes that fell to the floor. The snakes wriggled across the room straight toward Rebecca. One of the snakes pushed it's way down her throat, while the other two slithered into her eye sockets.

"Eewwww!" Buffy, and Dawn said in unison.

Then Rebecca began looking around frantically from side to side, clutching her ears and crying, "No, no. I didn't do it. Shut up. I didn't. . . I didn't."

"Is she okay?" Buffy asked.

"I think the Furies have decided to punish her," Angel said.

"Hey," Kennedy interrupted, "I must have cut Spike with that same axe a half dozen times and he didn't even seem to notice."

Willow sighed, "That's cause you didn't cast the spell on him. He wasn't invulnerable to her. No witch with any brains casts a spell like that that she can't undo. The real mystery is why Spike couldn't attack Dawn."

"Do you think it's a key thing?" Dawn asked. It had always seemed to her that she'd gotten the short end of the mystical stick. She had always thought she should have cool powers.

"Huh?" asked Angel.

"No," Spike said. They all looked at him. His eyes were no longer red, he seemed to be himself again, except for the pink of course. "Had a promise to keep."

"Spike?" Buffy asked, pulling the axe out of his shoulder, and examining his wound, "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah, all of it. Couldn't stop it, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, well except maybe for Angel."

"What promise Spike?" Willow asked.

"To protect Dawn," he said.

"Until the end of the world," Buffy whispered.

"I don't get any of this," Kennedy said, obviously upset.

"Oh, I think I do," Willow said, obviously happy to be the one with the answers, "I read it last night after Buffy called. Almost all of the literature on the Furies agrees that once they've sworn an oath to exact justice, they can't stop until they've fulfilled their oath."

"Again with the huh?" Kennedy said.

"Rebecca didn't invoke the Furies in the regular manner and get an oath from them. Instead she trapped them, or at least part of them in Spike and forced them to come after me and Xander. I don't think anything like that's been done before. Anyway, the point is, they were in essence a part of Spike, so they had to fulfill his oaths just as if they'd made them."

"So I guess that means I saved the day huh?" Dawn said.

"Thank god she finally fell asleep. She's going to be impossible to live with for awhile." Buffy said regarding her sister' sleeping form.

"She's never got to be the hero before, pet." Spike said, amused by Buffy's annoyance at her sister.

"All she did was stand there."

"Yeah, stand there facing down a vampire possessed by three angry, insane goddesses who had already taken down two Slayers and a vampire. That takes courage pet. Let her have her moment."

"I guess," sighed Buffy as she snuggled deeper into Spike's arms.

Spike was still amazed that Buffy was willing to be so openly affectionate with him, especially with Angel around.

Thank god the poof had stopped making comments on Spike's attire. Spike didn't know what was worse, that he was the right size that Rebecca had been able to dress him in her clothing, or that he'd had the whammy put on him by a Spice Girls fan.

He was going to have to remember to send Red some flowers or something. Not just for the almost killing her part, but also for being nice enough to put a glamour on him that made him look like he was wearing his own clothes until he had a chance to change.

"You all right?" Buffy asked, "You seem a little distant."

"I'm fine, luv. Just enjoying being the only one in my head." Actually, he wasn't as okay as he'd let on. Having three women actually in your head was even worse than living in a house crammed full of potential slayers. Not to mention the fact that once the Furies found that they couldn't escape from inside him, they'd gone snooping about through his memories.

He had only been able to understand snippets of what they said to each other when they weren't directly addressing him. After all he hadn't used his classical Greek since he was alive. But he'd gotten the impression that even though they usually didn't punish vampires, since they were stuck with him and he had killed his mother, they'd pass the time by trying to drive him insane.

Given enough time, he was sure they would have succeeded. Luckily the death of his mother was an issue he had already dealt with. At least as well as anyone could. Not to mention the First had also tried to drive him insane and had used a much large repertoire than just his mothers death. Still he was a little shaken.

None of that really mattered now though. He had Buffy now. Really had her it seemed, she wasn't going anywhere, and he was going with her back to Italy. Plus she wasn't making any attempt at hiding their relationship from her friends or Angel.

Not to mention the fact that she had made it very clear that she felt he owed her for the timing of his sleep walking episode, and he was more than happy to make that up to her as often as she liked. He hated the fact that he had left her unsatisfied, even if they had been rather rudely interrupted.

If only he could get away with throwing Angel off the plane, he could sneak Buffy into the back and ravish her there without waking the Nibblet. Unfortunately there was no where on the plane he and Buffy could disappear to that would be out of Angel's hearing, and he was sure the older vampire would find ways to interrupt them. So Spike would just have to wait, but he could afford to do that, he and Buffy had all the time in the world.

The End

A/N Please tell me what you think. I'd originally planned for a lot more to happen in this story, but that Viper joke came along, and suddenly the plot was moving too fast. So I'm not entirely satisfied with this ending, but it's the best I've been starring at it for a week and making no progress.