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"Bollox!" Spike said under his breath.

"Well, well, well boys. Look who we have here. The Slayer's lap dog, Spike. Hey, he's even got a dog's name. Hey dog, where's your collar?" the vampires all laughed at him.

A perfect bloody ending, to a perfect bloody day, thought Spike. Still things weren't quite as bad as they looked. First of all, all the vampires surrounding him were pretty young. Since the Order of Aurelius had been destroyed hardly any vampires over a hundred had ventured into Sunnydale.

Secondly, he was carrying a stake in the inner pocket of his coat. None of them seemed to be armed. And third, while they were all busy laughing at him, he'd grabbed the stake and driven it into the heart of the loud mouth who'd been taunting him.

The other vampires were momentarily stunned. It was a breach of vampire etiquette to attack during the initial taunting phase. They had been waiting for his come back. But Spike figured since he'd shagged a Slayer less than twenty-four hours ago, he was now so far on the fringe of vampire society that it didn't even matter any more.

He actually managed to stake a second vampire before they came to their senses. After that though, they all piled on him and he was fighting for his life. Luckily, they were not used to fighting together as a group, and his attackers got in each other's way. As he'd guessed, he was the only one armed, and none of them had managed to disarm him yet. That meant that although they could hurt him, they had nothing to kill him with.

He got another break a few minutes in, when one of the combatants sniffed him and said, "Did you fuck the Slayer?!" That outburst again startled his combatants and Spike managed to stake two more during their shock. That left five of them. Spike was bruised, battered, and broken. His ribs were cracked in several places. Since he didn't need to breathe they only hurt when he moved, but there was no way he could fight without great pain.

He backed up for a moment and looked over the remaining combatants. They viewed him warily. "Well, come on then. Aren't you lot the Big Bads around here? There's five of you, one of me. What? Not one of you's got the balls to take me on."

They'd already lost half their number to the older vampire. And even if his face was bruised, he didn't act like he was in much pain. The remaining vampire's decided that the odds were not as much in their favor as they had thought. They might hate Spike, but since he wasn't alive, they weren't driven by a compulsion to drain his blood. So they ran.

"That's right mates," he called after them, "I'm still the Big Bad, top vampire in this town. Don't you forget it." Despite his bravado, once he was sure the vampire's were out of earshot, he sank down against the wall of the sewer and indulged himself in some painful groaning. He hurt everywhere.

After a few moments he began to slink off to his crypt. He should have been thrilled after such a battle even if he was badly hurt. All he could think about though was that the Slayer had several such battles ahead of her the next couple of nights until she could show Sunnydale's underground population that she was back to normal.

Fuck, he thought. I probably just saved her life driving those wankers away. He had no doubt they had been waiting around that particular manhole cover, waiting for darkness so they could ambush the Scoobies at Giles' flat. Would he get any credit for it? No, they would never even know. Not that he wanted their gratitude. Well, maybe Buffy's, that is if her gratitude involved her tongue.

He made it back to his crypt. It hurt to climb the ladder to the upper level. When he did, he found that Riley had knocked over most of his stuff and broken his television. Luckily the refrigerator was still fine, so Spike had fresh, if cold blood. He greedily tore into several blood bags, letting the viscous fluid start it's healing work on his body.

He made his way back down to his bedroom. He was too sore to remove his clothes, so he simply wriggled out of his coat. Then he lay on the bed, which still smelled of Buffy, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

*******************************

Buffy leaned heavily against the side of the mausoleum. That had been her second big fight tonight. Spike hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said that the vampire population all knew about her recent condition and wanted to take advantage of it. That's why she'd been sure to allow a couple of the vampire's to escape from each battle. Hopefully the word would get out that she was up to full Slayer setting.

She wasn't sure she really was. She almost wished she'd agreed to let Riley come along with her. But she knew that if she was going to get jumped by a large group of vampires, the last thing she needed is to be worrying about was Riley.

Especially since all she seemed capable of doing was worrying. The overwhelming fear had gradually faded into a dull worry. Still, she now recognized that worry for what it was. That was why she had to go out tonight. Riley had begged her to take the night off, but she couldn't do that. If she hid inside once, she knew she'd be hiding the rest of her life.

She wished she could have done that one thing for Riley, stayed in. He was being so good to her. He'd taken care of her and comforted her through her breakdown. He wasn't going to leave her either. He'd said he understood that she wasn't in her right mind, that she had fallen under the influence of bad magics, and that she hadn't meant any of the things she'd said or done.

She wasn't sure about that. She was afraid that in some way, everything she'd done had been the real Buffy. But right now she wasn't in a position to rationally judge her fears. Also, she wasn't so dumb as to miss an out when it was offered her. If Riley was willing to make all the excuses for her, she wasn't going to argue.

No, Riley had had accepted her apologies and made it clear they were going to be alright. There was just one thing she had to do before they could put this all behind them.

She had to stake Spike.





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