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It was mid afternoon and Spike was going stir crazy. He had paced the length of the basement floor several times and had only been awake for 20 minutes. As these times he wished so fondly for a cigarette but had giving up the disgusting habit when Buffy found him smoking after a heavy patrol. She warned him right then and there she wouldn’t be kissing an ashtray mouth and he threw them all away forever.

He sighed in exasperation as he finally grabbed his notebook lying on the floor beside his bed, the one Dawn had given him as a Christmas present. He hadn't written anything in it for a while but really needed something to keep him preoccupied. He made his way up out the dark and dank hole in the ground and realized he actually liked the feeling of walking up out of the darkness into the brightly sunlit rooms of this warm and cozy home.

Dawn was standing at the kitchen counter, humming to herself while preparing a snack, which, in his mind's eye looked worse than what he lived on. Mixing chocolate and strawberry syrup with vanilla ice cream, candy sprinkles and marshmallows? Well, he knew he couldn't say anything. He was sure she would have a few insightful remarks about his plasma diet so he left her to her science experiment without uttering a word.

Giles was hunched over the coffee table reading out of a textbook of some sort. He was sure it was some kind of research; the man ate, slept and breathed research material. Spike was sure he was looking for a way to get to Buffy which made him feel a little more at ease. He enquired where Willow was, just out of curiosity and Giles informed him that she had slipped upstairs, trying to get rid of a sudden headache that was ailing her.

Spike plopped down on the chair in the far corner, away from any indirect sunlight of course. Pulling his knees up to use his lap as a table, he opened the empty notebook and stared at the blinding white pages. He held the pencil in his left hand, tapping it rhythmically on the bridge of his nose as his gaze drifted to the mantel above the fireplace and he glanced at all the family pictures, the one with Buffy and Dawn capturing his attention. They were really happy in the picture and as he continued to stare at the photo of Buffy, the words starting flowing through his mind. He began writing furiously in the notebook, descriptions of her, feelings for her, all pouring out from his soul. Notes, little stories, poems, everything and anything. It felt good to actually let out all his emotions onto the paper.

Meanwhile, upstairs in Dawn and Willow's room, the witch had decided to take a nap after popping a few aspirin. She wanted to be at her best to give Spike an exuberant send off for his chip removal. Maybe it would relax him a bit knowing that they were positive about it and cheering him on.

How unusual that her quick cat nap turned into a deep slumber that was quickly taken over by a vision. She saw herself sitting in the middle of a dimly lit room, all alone she gathered. Someone spoke, a soft voice, a familiar voice. She cocked her head slightly to listen to the tiny voice as it grew louder. Tara? It was!

"Tara," Willow gasped out.

"He's the one, dearest, the only one. He will bring her back."

Willow shook her head in confusion. "Who? Bring back Buffy? Who will bring her back?"

"The one who lost her. But he will lose something. What he loses is all up to you."

"Spike? It's Spike, isn't it? What will he lose?"

"But be careful. It is powerful, it is old, and they’ll stop at nothing. They still have him under their spell. Be wary but be forgiving for he knows not what he does. Help him. The world needs him as much as the slayer in the end. He needs to know it will cost him something if he's willing to save her."

"Thank you, sweetie, thank you." Willow beamed at her unseen girlfriend as she slowly regained consciousness.

Back downstairs, in the living room, Spike had turned out page after page of heartfelt sentiments meant for his eyes only. He would never let anyone else see what he had ascribed. They would think him a ponce for all the beautiful words he conveyed about his Buffy. It helped his mind and heart settle thinking about the wonders of her.

A sharp bolt of pain ripped through his head sending stabbing jolts to his eyes. He had to shut both tightly, and grabbed the sides of his head, letting out a pleading moan. He reared his head back and roared. Giles definitely heard it, and stood abruptly to investigate.

"Spike? Spike, what's wrong?"

He shook his head slowly, still groaning slightly. Willow flew down the flight of stairs, a bit nervous from the previous cry she had heard but excited at the prospect of the vision she just had. She noticed Spike holding his head; apparently he was doing alright because he looked up at her when she entered the room.

"Giles, Spike, I think you both better hear this. I had a dream or a vision and was told that Spike is the only one that can go and rescue Buffy. He…Spike? Giles, is he ok?"

Giles had cautiously made his way closer to the vampire. He turned to look at Willow and shrugged his shoulders as Willow walked over to stand next to Giles, leaning forward to place a hand on Spike's flexed arm. He was so tense. When her fingers barely touched him, he snapped. He stood suddenly and grabbed her, slipping into vampire face. Willow was too frightened to say anything as she remembered what Tara had warned her about.

Spike growled, "They want you, witch. You're a threat to them and they want you gone. So be a good girl and come with me. If you fight me, I will drain you dry."

"Spike, it’s still daylight out. Let's be reasonable about this and sit down and talk. We always have good conversations, remember? We're friends. You don't want to do anything rash."

"I don't fancy a one on one with you, Red. Let's go." Spike grabbed the blanket off of the back of the couch just as Giles pounced in front of him, thrusting a cross in front of Spike's face and throwing him off balance. He tumbled back, releasing his grip from Willow who ran to stand behind Giles.

He hissed at the watcher, grabbed the blanket again, and flew out the front door. Giles knew he had to stop him.

"Willow, I'm going after him. I don't know what I'm going to do once I catch him…"

"Maybe sedate him? I can get something ready and follow you."

"Yes, that may work. I'll try my best to distract him. He probably went back to the school, to the hellmouth." Giles grabbed a stake along with the cross he already had and rushed out in search of Spike.

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Giles indeed found the vampire in the basement of the school, pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself or to whoever was getting inside his mind. The distraught vamp stopped and lifted his head when he realized he wasn’t alone.

"See, I told you she would follow me. She likes to try to fix things, I know the witch all too well."

"Well, this time she didn't feel like fixing anything." Giles stepped into the room and stood in front of Spike.

"Watcher," he snarled, still in vamp face. He began to chuckle when he saw the stake and cross. "Come to try and rid the world of the big bad, huh?"

"Well, yes, but at this particular moment in time, you're not on the big bad list. I don't want to fight you, Spike. I've grown accustomed to your presence, be it some what annoying at times. Let's be rational and figure out a peaceful truce. I don't want to fight you, you don't want to fight me. You once told me you thought of me as a father. So, now I'm here, ready to step into the fatherly role, ready to help you out."

"Piffle, I don't need your bleeding help, Watcher. Doing fine on my own. Don't need anyone's…" Spike stood in silence, eyes wide, his human guise slipping back. He looked down at his chest where a tranquilizer dart now stuck out of it. His legs began to wobble as his eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground.

Both Giles and Willow hurriedly grabbed him by each arm and hauled him up and out of the basement. Willow had driven Giles’ car so they tossed the vampire into the back seat, thankful the evening sun had just set, and headed back to the house.

Giles dropped Willow off and quickly headed to the secret location of Dr. Slovich. He hoped Spike would come to before they had to prep him for the initial operation; otherwise Giles might have to face the wrath of Spike. Though the wrath of souled Spike was not really that bad, so on the other hand, maybe an unconscious Spike was better after all.

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Buffy had been in a somber mood the whole day. She wasn't sure what her dream had meant and was tired of trying to figure it out. She didn't want to kill Spike. We're they going to make her kill him? She had to find a way out of there and back home. She wasn't really sure how long she had been there but it seemed like a lifetime already. Buffy knew she must prepare herself for what was to come…and for the visitor she was supposedly going to have.

TBC





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