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The group of four individuals sat around the table solemnly nibbling at their dessert and sipping their preferred beverages. It was Giles who finally broke the intense silence.

"Buffy, I seriously think you should tell him and soon. Something is going on with him right now as we speak. I can tell. I can't believe I'm saying this about Spike, but we just can't wait around hoping whatever spell he is under to just go away. He will surely wither away until he is dust and we are not immoral people here. Spike,er, has proven---well, he can help out, uh, when we need him?"

"I know, Giles, but how? If you have any, any clue as to how I should tell a vampire that he's a vampire, please, I'd love to hear it. I'm worried he will take off again and he's not mentally prepared to fight back if any baddies try to get a piece of him. Did you hear that? Was that me actually sounding concerned for Spike?"

"Buffy, don't be so mean," Dawn whimpered, looking away before she could start crying.

"I'm not. I'm actually concerned about Spike *and* William. I'm seriously beginning to miss Spike's mouth. And that did not come out the way I was meaning." She shook her head, looking disgusted at herself.

"We know what you mean, Buffy." Willow commented. "I think we all agree that Spike brings a lot of "life" to our dull and monotonous existences for a dead person. We know there is no kissage going on between you and Spike.- ---We--- *do* know that, right? Buffy, there isn't any---?"

"A world of no, no kissage. Nada. Zilch.----None---what---soever." Buffy trailed off, her thoughts meandering elsewhere.

Giles removed his glasses and began to clean the lenses. "Well, er, let's all sit here and think about this. Surely the four of us can come up with something feasible. One thing I am certain of is if he doesn't start feeding again, he will become feeble and weak, like he was at Thanksgiving last year. Once we figure out a way of breaking the news to him, get him drinking the butcher's blood and all, we can possibly track down this warlock you mentioned."

"Oh, yeah, did you find any trails or information about him?" Buffy had forgotten that she had told Giles about the warlock earlier in the day.

"I found a receipt with some herbs and other witchcraft paraphenelia on it but it could have been bought by any witch or warlock. It was dated last Wednesday, I believe. There was no other information. Sorry."

"Oh well, I'll keep searching tomorrow night. I have to go to my afternoon class but I can patrol in the evening and then visit some more demon haunts. Maybe I can get more info from them." She sighed with frustration.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

He wanted so much to smash the mirror into shards with his fist, but what purpose would that serve? Would only cause another but different kind of pain and a very big mess as well. His face still felt wet, but he was sure he had dried it off with the towel. He felt it with the back of his hand and indeed it was wet. He figured it out that he had begun to cry and had not even noticed.

"You ponce," he grumbled to himself. "Get into a tight fix and what do you start doing? You start sniveling like a tiddler*."

He was now leaning against the wall closest to the door, head lifted up to the ceiling in deep thought. He snorted and shook his head as he slid down the wall and sat on the cool floor, knees drawn up close to his chest. Laying his arms across his knees, he rested his head on them. He could clearly hear the conversation going on down in the dining room. They were once again talking about him. They knew, they all knew what he was. He heard Mr. Giles raising his voice, heard Buffy laugh though it sounded like an uneasy chortle, he barely heard the girl, Dawn, standing up for him, she herself sounding just as upset as he was about his newfound status. He heard the pretty red haired girl speak briefly but she sounded just as unsure of herself as he could be most of the time.

Thoughts ran rampant through his mind. We're his new friends planning on offing him anytime soon or helping him? Why hadn't they told him about everything earlier? What was he supposed to do now? He wasn't human anymore, he was a vampire. A monster. He felt the same except for the excellent hearing and sight, and he did feel considerably stronger. There had been this gnawing in his lower gut since he had awaken the other night. He had just shaken it off as hunger pains, but it was a continuous ache, almost like a need, a want.

"Oh," he sobbed, pressing the heels of his hands directly over his eyes. "I've read about the bloodlust. Is this what I'm feeling?"

How could he even---drink blood? No, never. He gagged just thinking about it. He sobbed again only louder.

Buffy had walked upstairs to check on William, to make sure he was feeling alright. She noticed Joyce's door was standing wide open while the bathroom door was closed, the light appearing on from underneath the bottom of the door. She heard his pained sigh and instantly panicked. Swiftly, she made her way to the door and knocked.

"Will, you allright in there? Can I---come in?" He didn't answer so she took the liberty to slowly crack the door open and peer in. She found him sitting on the floor next to the sink as she made her way in, making no sudden movements to startle him. He was staring straight ahead, but his eyes were puffy and rimmed with red and he was sniffling. She figured he had been crying so he obviously was upset about something or was really not feeling well. Which in any case worried her even more.

Buffy slowly walked over to him and kneeled down off to his side. She looked around but didn't really notice anything out of place except the face towel draped over the side of the basin. Buffy sighed. She was a little nervous now, not really knowing what was going on and was afraid to ask.

"Are you feeling ok?" Seemed to be the safest route to go at the moment. He turned to look at her, fear and sadness radiating out of his brilliant blue eyes. She gasped internally. Something was definitely wrong. How to go about finding out was a whole other story. She had to look away from his gaze.

Finally, "You know, don't you?" he whispered.

Her head snapped back to his attention. "What---What do you mean?"

He ducked, his eyes now hooded. "What I am? I thought you liked me but it was all an act. I thought we were becoming friends, but it was a ruse."

"William, what are you talking about?"

"I'm a monster. Something must have happened to me, to get me to forgot what a despicable creature I really am. How can I be this way? I don't feel evil or feel like I can do horrible acts of evil. What am I really? Please, Buffy, please tell me the truth. I deserve to know the truth."

He began to cry again. He groaned and cursed under his breath for losing the battle of calmness. He grabbed the towel and pushed it over his face to muffle the embarrassing sobs that wouldn't stop. Buffy felt a rise of guilt and pain for Spike surfacing and noticed tears were welling up in her own eyes as well. She reached out and touched his arm softly, gently stroking his upper arm. She had never seen Spike cry right out. When Dru had left him a few years back and he had returned to Sunnydale, she had heard the pain in his voice but had never seen him cry. This whole scene was harsh and all she wanted to do was take him in her arms and comfort him the best way she knew how.

"You're Spike," she whispered as she plopped down next to him on the tiled floor. "I'm sorry, William, but you *are* a vampire. But we can get you through this. It won't be so hard. And we *are* you're friends, all of us- --now we are. I want to be your friend---if you'll let me. William? Let me help you."

He gradually pulled the towel away and turned his head to look at her, cocking it to the side a bit. She smiled slightly, and placed her warm hand over his cool one. He returned the smile.

"So, you don't hate me, don't want to kill me or whatever it is you do to vampires?" He asked softly.

She chuckled. "It's called staking, or dusting. And no, I don't, though I will admit there were some times---but that's another story. I truly want to help you."

"We were friends before---before when I knew I was a vampire?"

"Well, let's just say we were acquaintances. You helped us sometimes and we just never staked you. You were kind of cocky, you know the whole "Big Bad" attitude thing. Got old. We fought a lot, mostly verbally. In a way I miss our little fights. Kept me on edge. But now, I have to say, I think we're on the friendship path, heading in the right direction."

He sniffled. "Good. Cause I like you, Buffy. I like all of you. Dawn reminds me a lot of my own sister. So, rest assured, I will never do anything to hurt any of you. I promise."

"That's another chapter to this long story. You can't actually harm humans anymore."

Williams eyes grew wide as he took in this last bit of information.

'What do you mean?"

"A couple of months ago, a group call the Initiative captured you and implanted a tiny chip in your head. It sends out shock waves or zaps you or something like that whenever you try to kill or harm a human. That's one reason why Spike, your vampire self, has come to be a part of our--- gang. You can kill demons. Which is, may I say, a nice incentive to the whole chip issue. At least you get to do some killing and be a good guy to boot."

"I like the sound of that much better than the whole biting and drinking of blood thing. I think I will go on to bed. I'm feeling very exhausted from this whole revelation. Maybe we can talk more in the morning? Get to know each other better. Of course you will be telling me about---me." They both stood up off the of the floor chuckling and headed out into the hallway.

"I would like that. Would you like me to get some blood from the butcher's tomorrow?"

William made a sickly face. "I---don't rightly know if I can---I mean, I guess I need it, right? This part might be the hardest. Yes, I suppose you should then, if it's what I need to live. Thank you---Buffy---for being so nice to me. I'm grateful for your friendship. Tell the others, assure them that I am allright with this. And thank them as well for me. Goodnight, then."

"I will. Goodnight."

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

William had been laying in bed wide awake for over an hour. He had heard the others leave, Dawn and Buffy come up the stairs and doors opening and closing. His mind was filled with questions and worries. Who was this Spike and what was he like? Apparently he wasn't the friendliest of vampires by what Buffy had mentioned. This notion made William laugh. When are vampires ever friendly? All they want to do is bite you and drink your blood; drain you dry or turn you into one of them. He thought that Spike should actually be grateful for these humans to take him in when he was supposedly handicapped. He rolled over and looked at the luminescent blue numbers standing out on the clock. 11:50. He really wanted to sleep but couldn't shut off the endless droning going on in his head. Finally, he began to doze off, his voice still rambling away in his subconcious.

Gasping for air and clutching the edge of the sheet he shot straight up in bed, his eyes enlarged as his mind raced. He settled a bit and began to look around at his surroundings. The smell was familiar. Buffy and Joyce, hell all the Summers' women drifted around him. He was in a bed in the Summers' home. Not Buffy's room, not Bit's room. Had to be Joyce's. It all hit him like a ton of bricks and came crashing down all around him. The last two days flashed through his head. He grasped his hair in handfuls and moaned.

"Bloody hell, Spike, what have you gone and gotten yourself into this time?"

TBC





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