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

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

"Harmony—"

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

Buffy frowned as Harmony continued to force herself to laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harmony paused.

"Wait…"

"Penny's finally dropping," Spike muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

"The Boss' blood? Uh, I don't know—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Buffy."

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

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

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

Spike snorted.

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

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

"Look, Angel, can we just—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Spike!" Buffy exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buffy narrowed her eyes at Angel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Buffy asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take a look at that, luv."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm trying!" he yelled back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where are you gonna look?" Dawn asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

"Know what might help with that?"

"What, luv?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spike never moved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What? Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

She cut him off before he could argue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"BUFFY!"

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

"What?" Buffy asked in disbelief and annoyance.

"We uh—" Dawn stammered.

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

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