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Xander hadn't been able to face his friends since slinking back into Sunnydale. He knew they probably wouldn't judge him, much, but it still hurt his pride that his cross country road trip of self discovery had ended just outside Oxnard when his car broke down. All he'd discovered about himself was that he never, ever wanted to ply his trade as an exotic dancer again.

Besides, Willow and Buffy seemed to be getting along fine without him. Buffy had only called him a handful of times because she was so jam-packed with the thrill of slaying. From Willow's e-mails, Willow seemed to be having the best summer of her life without him around. Willow had Oz now to fill up the hours with lots of sex and bass playing...not that he was remotely jealous in any way. At least he could console himself with the fact that Buffy was still lonely and miserable now that Angel had bailed on their forever love.

'No wonder they don't miss me, I'm a terrible friend,' Xander thought, bitterly.

Xander was walking home to his awesomely depressing parents' basement from his awesomely depressing job at the gas station. He was carrying a bag full of soft pretzels renderd unsaleable because they'd reached their expiration date. Xander figured if he froze them and parceled the stale-ish food out for the next two weeks, he wouldn't have to buy groceries. As he considered stopping by the Double Meat Palace to swipe some mustard packets, Xander heard a scream coming from the alley beside the Magic Shop.

Grabbing the stake he kept in the pocket of his brown, leather jacket, Xander ran into the alley headlong, tossing the bag of pretzels behind his back. Beside a green dumpster a male vampire had a girl with long, strawberry blonde hair pinned against the brick wall. She was shrieking to beat the band and thrashing so the monster couldn't get a good latch. Xander shoved the stake home through the vamp's woven hemp henley. The creature disinitigrated in a shudder of pukka shells and dust. After the debris settled, Xander found himself facing a girl with enormous brown eyes, full lips and a round face. They stood there staring for a moment.

"Hi," Xander said.

"Hi," she said, panting. Xander thought the breathlessness looked very good on her. He wondered if she had freckles underneath that bulky, purple sweatshirt or if they were just on the tip of her nose. Her eyes traveled over his face and she licked her lips.

"What was that thing?"

"Vampire, we're sort of living on a Hellmouth and they like to hang out near here."

"Like stoner kids and Pac Sun?" the girl asked.

"Right, except, you know, evil."

Xander stuck his hand up in between them.

"I'm Xander Harris. I fight monsters," he said.

She shook it. The instant their bare skin touched, Xander felt a spark.

"My name is Dav Devis, it's short for Davinia, but you can just call me Dav. So that guy was a vampire?"

"Yup."

"I thought vampires were like European and wore capes and weren't real."

"Nope."

"God, I should've known the only reason a cute guy would want to get me alone was either to suck my blood or to tell me about how Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior," Dav said.

"I don't know about that," Xander said with a smile, "I'd like to suck...and I'm so not going to finish that sentence because you seem to like me right now and I don't want to ruin it by coming off as a pervert."

"You saved my life, it's going to take more than a terrible pick up line to ruin my opinion of you, Xander Harris," Dav said, then her face flushed. "You are wanting to pick me up, right? I'm not just imagining that, am I?"

"No, you're not imagining. You're really pretty," Xander said.

The pair were trading shy smirks when Spike walked into the alley, startling them both.

"Oh for the love of god, just shag already. You two are sweet enough to induce diabetic coma," Spike said.

Xander jumped in front of Davinia and she cowered behind him, but the way the evil creature before him looked made Xander stop his flight or fight.

"Spike, you look horrible and not just in the usual, poor haircolor choice kind of way," Xander said.

Spike's bluish skin had taken on a powdery consistency. His cheek was a gout of blood and his knuckles looked shredded, as though his flesh were fingerless driving gloves. The red, silk shirt he was wearing had several scorch marks and his black t-shirt had a stake-sized hole through the gut.

On top of all that, Spike's roots were definitely showing.

"Haven't been eating right. Now get out of my way, whelp, I got business with the bint behind you," Spike said.

"I'm not going to let you kill this girl," Xander said.

"Thank you," Dav said, quietly.

"Not her, you berk," Spike said, pointing further down the alley, "Her."

"Like I'm fallin' for that—" Xander said, when he suddenly felt an arm choking him.

"Think I can do 'em both at once, Spikey?"

Xander craned his neck to the side. He and Dav were being strangled by a petite blonde vamp with kooky hair horns perched atop her flowing mane. What an idiotic way to go, Xander thought.

"What, can't get the slayer so you go after a tubby bit of fluff and the Scooby team mascot? Thought you were queen bee, Tuesday?" Spike asked.

"I'm Sunday, you dick. At least I'm not a lapdog for the corn princess," Sunday said.

"Corn princess?" Xander choked.

"Tubby?" Dav asked.

Spike rolled his eyes and then punched Sunday in the face, forcing her to momentarily release her prisoners as she sprawled backward.

"Run home kiddies, live to snog another day," Spike said, as Xander and Dav scampered away. Sunday recovered quickly and hopped back on her feet, circling Spike.

"You are so going to—" Sunday started to say, not realizing Spike had already staked her. He watched her lips form the word, die, as they melted on the air.

"Too late, love. Already dead," Spike said.

He stuck the stake in his back pocket and slunk out of the alley. The abandoned house Sunday had been lurking about was a cherry location for keeping an eye on the slayer and Spike was keen to start making himself at home.



~*~*~*~

Xander woke up with Dav still dozing on his chest. He smiled fondly thinking of the night before. It had been so different from his other two sexual encounters. Those had been frenetic one night stands, once with Faith and the other time with Cordi after they'd broken up. Faith had been pretty clear that he was just in the right place at the right time; she couldn't care less that it was him she'd been fucking. The hour with Cordi was totally panic-induced on her part. They'd cut fifth period together and gotten freaky in the janitor's closet on the last day of school, both convinced they would be dying on graduation day. He made her come in less than five minutes using an oral technique he'd researched on the internet, which made him wonder how nervous near-virgins like himself had ever figured anything out before computers. Maybe it was just years of trial and error or information conveyed through tattered Hustler magazines passed down from generation to generation. Anyway, after he gave her the twirl Cordelia got on top and worked him like a cattle driver until they both finished. It had been magical despite their proximity to that orange stuff the janitor used to clean up barf until she'd looked at him all dewy doe eyes and said: "That was surprisingly decent. Thanks."

Then she'd put her panties back on and scuttled out of the room, leaving him gasping on the floor with his cock still hard.

Xander was used to degrading when it came to the lovin.' He figured it would always be that way, until he met Dav.

After he saved her life, she'd invited him up to her pretty apartment. The living room was decorated with posters from broadway plays and squishy, plum-colored furniture. There were wooden book shelves built into the back wall and a curved archway on either side.

"The rent here is so cheap compared to San Francisco. I don't even need a roommate and this place is kind of huge," Dav said as they entered.

She set her keys on a table by the door that was underneath a huge mirror with a pink and white abalone frame. Xander glanced at their reflections and silently high-fived himself because she cast one. They went into the glorious, modern kitchen with the gray granite countertops and the silver appliances. Dav had a ridiculous amount of culinary gadgetry and he wondered if she was into cooking. That question was answered when she made him a, "snack." He'd been expecting a sandwich when she'd invited him to sit at her dining room table and then she brought out a vegetable ratatoille over long grain rice with duck wrapped up in some light pastry crust.

"Did you make this?" Xander asked in wonder after he took a bite.

It made his stale garbage pretzels taste like stale garbage. She smiled at his question.

"Yeah, but it's left over and it was my first try. I'm having my parents over for dinner next week and I wanted to make something challenging. They can be kind of...not that they aren't great, but they've been everywhere and it's hard to impress them, you know?"

"I really don't. The furthest my dad's been was when he got sent to county for that DUI," Xander said.

She put her hand over his.

"I'm sorry. That's hard."

"It's even harder because I live with them. You should know that I'm not just a roving heroic type. I'm also a convenience store employee and someone who pays rent to abode in his parents' basement, so if you want to revoke my invitation, I can totally see that."

"I lived with my parents until last year. Half my stuff is still at their place and they're the ones who helped me furnish this apartment. There's nothing to be ashamed of," Dav said.

"So what, you lived with your parents until you were eighteen?"

"I'm twenty-four, Xander. Wait, how old are you?"

"Um, nineteen."

She looked relieved.

"O.K., so you have even less to be embarrassed about. I never paid them rent. I work as a costume mistress at the playhouse and I make so little doing that I have to have a second job doing alterations for Bristol's, that over-priced dress shop downtown. Without the extra income we'd probably make the same."

"You're sure you're not a demon?" Xander asked.

"Fairly. If you want to check me for a tale I'd be up for that," Dav said, arching her brow to highten the effect of her smile.

After he'd eaten, they had a glass of wine, then two and then he kissed her. They went to her bed and she seemed more anxious than he was, though his anxiety was plentiful.

"I don't normally...I don't want you to think I'm...but I need you tonight," Dav said.

"Dav, I like you and I honestly don't care. My love life's been less than stellar."

"Mine too. In fact, I haven't really had much of one at all, lately. Xander, I'm not expecting you to be committed to me after this, although I'd really, really like to date you. I can understand if you might not, but I hope you're going to be here when I wake up. Please don't sneak out because if you are planning on doing that, just tell me now so I'm not shocked when I wake up alone," Dav said.

Xander tilted her chin up with his hand.

"I won't. And I'd like to date you, too," Xander said.

They'd taken it slow and afterward fallen asleep, replete with happiness. Xander couldn't believe how easy it had all been. Save a pretty girl, eat some awesome duck, drink delicious wine and then have the best sex of his life. The likelihood of her turning into a giant insect at this point was remote, but it all seemed too good to last. It was like a page from somebody else's life, someone who wasn't constantly evading apocalypse or getting screwed over by magic or shaking vampire dust out of his clothes—Holy cats! He'd totally forgotten to tell Buffy about the Spike weirdness and that could be very bad. She'd told him Spike had kidnapped her and then let Drusilla die rather than feed Buffy to his lady love. It was all too weird with overtones of Angel, which made Xander nervous. Not to mention the last time he'd seen Spike, the guy had knocked him unconcious. That had been another pointlessly menacing kidnapping where Spike accomplished nothing.

Xander jostled Dav until her eyes opened and she snuffled against his nipple.

"Baby, I need to get up," Xander said, softly.

Dav opened one, large, brown eye.

"Why come?"

"I need to talk to Buffy."

Suddenly, she had both eyes open.

"I-is that your girlfriend?"

"No, she's my best friend. That vampire who came in at the last minute and helped us—"

"The scabby one that looked like Billy Idol?"

"The very same. He's got a history with my friend. She'll want to know he's around," Xander said.

"You're a unique fellow, Xander Harris," Dav said, closing her eyes again, "why don't you give me a pen before you leave so we can exchange phone numbers."

Xander gave her a peck on her swollen lips, that blossomed into an intense kiss. Xander decided they could probably go one more time before he had to tell Buffy about Spike.

~*~*~*~

"So to recap, Xander is back, YAY! But Spike is also back, Nay!?" Willow asked. She was perched on Oz's lap and Giles was trying valiantly not to notice where the young man's hands were going. Giles took off his glasses and rubbed a cloth into the lense with his thumb.

"Essentially, yes. Buffy needs to find Spike as there could be something larger afoot," Giles said.

Buffy sat on the other end of her mother's couch, her stomach feeling like she was in freefall.

"I just don't understand why he'd come back, I mean he's got to know I don't want to see him in a here's-the-end-of-a-wooden-stake kind of way," Buffy said.

"You are talking about Spike, right Buffster?" Xander asked as he came in from the kitchen carrying a huge bowl of popcorn. Buffy smiled, her eyes glowing and silly.

"Yes, I am. By the way, how long have you been home?"

Xander plopped down next to Buffy.

"Long enough to get a girlfriend," Willow said, like a little sister needling her older brother.

Buffy took a handfull of popcorn.

"Girlfriend? Is she a demon?" Buffy asked.

"Don't think so, but it's early. She could still morph into a lizard or string me up over the Hellmouth but I'm trying to stay positive," Xander said.

"I'd love to meet her, not just to make sure she's not some evil entity, either, but because I care," Willow said. Oz, who'd been silent for the duration of the conversation made eye contact with Buffy.

"Speaking of evil intent, I'm not real keen on Spike running into Wills again. There's no need to repeat the bottle-in-the-face moment," Oz said.

Willow blushed at the memory and snatched a fistful of food. Xander also stiffened. Buffy knew why they were so uncomfortable. When Spike had dragged her friends to the factory, they'd gotten...close. Spike had found Buffy at the library when he started to sober up and basically confessed that he'd screwed up. He told her unless she helped him cast the love spell he wouldn't lead her to her to the place where he was holding Willow and Xander. Buffy had been furious at his half apology, half bribery. They'd collected a bag full of magical ingredients from Giles' stash, Buffy intentionally screwing up the ingrediants so when Willow cast the spell it would harmlessly fizzle. When Buffy had went into the factory with a remorseful Spike in tow, she'd found Willow half naked on top of Xander.

Buffy was glad she'd told Oz and Cordelia to wait at school while she rescued their significant others, sparing them from seeing their lovers entwined. It was strange that she'd told them to wait; maybe Buffy was just afraid that one or the other would lose it and stake Spike. Which would be bad because? Buffy couldn't finish the rest of that sentence. Angel had asked her afterward why she hadn't ended Spike after she'd rescued the rest of the gang, and she hadn't known what to say.

"I'll make sure Spike doesn't hurt anybody," Buffy said.

"Are you sure he wants to hurt us at all? I mean he saved Xander and Dav, it is Dav, right?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, short for Davinia, which is just so cute," Xander said, dreamily, "the rescue thing might have been enough to make me forget that concussion he gave me last year, except the resulting brain damage did that for me."

"Giles, what do you think?" Buffy asked.
Giles shrugged and continued his slow pace across the room.
"Could be any number of schemes ranging from the benign to the deadly. He might be exactly as he appears, adhering to his truce with Buffy while residing in Sunnydale. Or, he could be trying to resurrect Drusilla. There is a spell that can be used to reanimate a vampire, very dark, very dangerous magic. Spike would have had access to this spell, given that it was in the manuscript by Josephus du Lac he pilfered to restore Drusilla's strength. It requires the blood of the sire, Buffy," Giles said.
Buffy stood.
"Angel," she said.
Giles went to her, putting a hand on Buffy's shoulder.
"Use caution, contacting Angel and bringing him here could simply hasten Spike's plans."
"Why wouldn't he be in Los Angelus, go to the source of the broody?" Xander asked.
"I don't know. That's why you must find Spike as soon as possible," Giles said.
"How am I supposed to know if he's telling the truth?" Buffy
"I'm guessing you don't, ergo, slaying," Oz said.
"Ergo slaying," Buffy said, softly, "it's still daylight. I'll go on my own, see if Willy knows anything and then I'll find Spike."
~*~*~*~
It had only taken a few threats in her growly voice to get Willy to spill about Spike's whereabouts. William the Bloody had taken out a vamp called Sunday who'd been hunting on Sunnydale University campus with her cohorts for about twenty years. Demons were upset, as it was understood that you don't usurp another vamp's turf, especially one as insular as Sunday had been. She and her tightknit group carved out a niche killing college freshmen, never taking enough to raise suspicion and never bothering anyone else.

"She was kind of a bitch, but all in all, a good nieghbor," Willy said.

Buffy really had to keep from punching him when he said that.

Sunday's place was an abandoned frat house and Willy was kind enough to give her the address. Buffy still had an hour of light left, so she made her way there. The structure was degenerate, the white clapboards gone grey with neglect, the windows broken and covered over with plywood. The door was intact, though, until she kicked it open.

In the living room stacked with disparate junk she found Spike asleep underneath a Lion King blanket. He looked dreadful. His skin was chalky, his hair patchy and falling out. The wound on his cheek had gotten worse and she could see his teeth behind the hole. His hands were bloody tatters.

"Spike," she said, more gently than she'd originally intended.

He jerked and sat up, opening his eyes.

"Fie knew shoe were comin' I'dda baked a cake," he slurred.

She squatted beside him, resting a hand on his ruined jaw. He smiled and she saw his blue eyes were still vivid despite everything.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Got some new digs. You like'em? Might fix it up nice. Those kids were living like rats," Spike said.

"Why are you still in Sunnydale?"

"Keep an eye on the slayer. Bird who used to lurk here had it in for you. Thought I'd clear out the trash, make it easier."

"Again, Spike, why?"

"Told you why. I love you.You know it, you have for a long time. Besides, something happens to you, Dru's death's for nothing, innit?" he asked, turning over.

"You haven't eaten since she dusted, have you?" she asked.

"Whelp tell you that?"

"I have eyes. You're falling apart," Buffy said.

"Yeah, well, tried but it doesn't work anymore. Not going to play by your rules, not going to bag it so I grabbed a ripe, little morsel off the street. Smelled just like fresh milk, but when I went to do the deed I saw your face. Disapproving. Figured this was the better way. Hunger makes some of us go mad, makes another of us sentimental. Me and Dru, we were the sentimental sort. All filled with regrets. When we were outside of Prague I'd never seen her more lucid. She told me she hadn't committed suicide when she was alive because it was a sin, then she'd laughed, said if only she'd known. By the end of the night she was begging me to stake her, I had to force feed her. Now she's not around to return the favor, but you are, aren't you slayer? I know you'll do it for me, love. Beautiful, Buffy.You'll finally finish me up once you see me suffering. Your heart's too big to watch even your enemy continue on like this."

"You still want me to kill you, Spike?"

"God, yeah. " Spike said.

"I can't, not when you're helpless," Buffy said.

"Not helpless," Spike said.

Then he was springing on her, pinning her to the floor with his fangs hovering above her throat.

"I'm the monster now, no pretty looks to soften it. I'm the dead man who sucks at your life. Kill me, Buffy. Kill me before I do you," he said.

She could easily throw him off, his body was more or less a pile of bones knitted with some torn skin. Buffy didn't, though. She waited until Spike collapsed on top of her. Then she sat up and he slid into her lap, the same way he had after Drusilla's death. Buffy took the stake from her back pocket. As she jostled him, Spike looked up at her, joy on his face. Then she shoved the sharp tip into the plump part of her hand just below the thumb.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his expression anguished.

"Drink," Buffy said.

"You're daft," he said.

He tried to pull away but she was stronger. Buffy held him fast by the throat and dripped the blood onto his mouth. At the first drop, he couldn't resist. He was lapping at her palm like a grateful dog.

His coarse tongue felt amazing against the tiny injury and the sounds of his moans made her feel something she never associated with Spike before: arousal. Buffy turned red, her whole body tingled with shame; it was bad enough to feel that way, but especially bad when he was in this state.

By the time Spike was done, the wound had sealed up and there was nothing there but a small, white scar. Slayer healing was good, but it wasn't that good. Spike lifted his head from her thighs and saw Buffy examining her hand.

"We can close cuts with our saliva. Good for keeping pets. Is that what you want to be, slayer, or were you thinking this would be the other way around? Can tell you liked my mouth on you," he said. His face already looked better. The pallor was gone and the gouge was healing before her eyes.

"Don't get too excited, that was just a pity suck," Buffy said.

He laughed.

"Filthy girl. So what's your angle?"

"If you're serious about helping me, I could use your strength. You'd have to bag the blood, of course," Buffy said.

"Keep existing for you? Not exactly a tantalizing prospect, slayer."

His words would have had more impact if he hadn't been snuggling her lap when he said them.

"Think about it. I'll come by tomorrow with some take out," Buffy said, slowly disentangling from his grasp. She rose, leaving Spike a puddle on the floor. Before she walked away, Buffy brought the blanket up over his thin shoulders. He snatched her hand with his skeletal fingers, holding it while he stared into her eyes. Then he released Buffy wordlessly and covered his face, not sparing her another glance as she left.


Chapter End Notes:
Dav is not an original character. She's actually one of Sunday's vampire cohorts. I just imagined what she'd be like if she'd never been turned. Also, my roommate in college had a Lion King blanket our freshman year, so Spike's comforter is a shout out to her.



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