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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.





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