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"He spent the night? In your room? In your bed?" Xander asked appalled as they sat around the table in the library.

"Not IN my bed, BY my bed." Buffy said.

"That is so romantic," Willow said, "Did you, uh. . . I mean, did he, uh. . ."

"There was a. . . uh good night kiss but still he was a perfect gentleman."

The two girls smiled at each other.

"Buffy, c'mon, wake up and smell the seduction. It's the oldest trick in the book," Xander said.

Buffy squirmed a little. Her mind couldn't help but wonder if the whole thing was a way to get her to trust him enough that he could bite her. But every other part of her said that she could trust him. And she did. After all, he could have killed her in her sleep last night. That's why she didn't need to tell anyone about the part where he was a vampire. They just wouldn't understand him. Not like she did.

"What? Saving my life? Getting slashed in the ribs?" Buffy asked.

"Duh! I mean, guys'll do anything to impress a girl. I-I once drank an entire gallon of Gatorade without taking a breath," Xander said triumphantly.

"It was pretty impressive," Willow concurred, "Although later there was an ick factor."

Giles approached the library table, "Can we steer this riveting conversation back to the events that happened earlier in the evening? You left the Bronze and were set upon by three unusually virile vampires." He picked up a book and showed her an open page. "Did they look like this?"

"Yeah. What's with the uniforms?"

"It seems you encountered the Three." Giles explained, "Warrior vampires, very proud and very strong."

"How is it you always know this stuff?" Willow asked Giles, "You always know what's going on. I never know what's going on."

"Well, you weren't here from midnight until six researching it."

"No, I was sleeping," admitted Willow.

"Uh, o-obviously you're hurting the Master very much. He, he wouldn't send the, the Three for just anyone. We must step up our training with weapons," Giles said

Xander jumped in, "Buffy, you should stay at my house until these Samurai guys are history."

Buffy looked at him. "What?"

"And, don't worry about Spike," Xander continued, "Willow can run to your house and tell him to get out of town fast."

"Spike and Buffy are, are not in any immediate jeopardy," Giles cut in, "Eventually the Master will send someone else, but in the mean time the Three, having failed, will offer their own lives in penance."

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

Anxiously he waited for the sun to go down. He had to get out of here. Soon Buffy would return. What had he been thinking last night? Why couldn't he keep up the pretense? Why couldn't he continue lying to her? Or at least if he was going to tell her the truth, he should have told her the whole truth.

She would find out anyway. She probably already knew. She would go to her Watcher tell him all about the vampire with a soul and he would look it up in his books. Spike knew what he would find. Nothing about a vampire with a soul, only William the Bloody who had killed two Slayers in the last century.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even notice when she returned.

"Spike?"

"Slayer," she didn't look angry. Didn't look like she was about to kill him. Did she not tell her Watcher? Did she really trust him that much? His heart leapt at the thought, until he reminded himself that Nikki had also trusted him, and look where it got her.

"So, What'd you do all day?"

"I read a little," he said. She looked over at her vanity and spotted her diary. "Look, Slayer, there's something I still need to tell-"

"My diary? You read my diary?" She picked it up and put it in a drawer. "That is NOT okay! A diary is like a person's most private place! I. . . You don't even know what I was writing about! 'Hottie' can mean a lot of things, bad things. And, and when it says that your eyes are 'penetrating', I meant to write 'bulging'."

"Buffy-" he was trying not to smile. She was awfully cute when she was angry.

"And 'S' doesn't even stand for 'Spike' for that matter, it stands for. . . 'Sven', a charming foreign exchange student, so that whole fantasy part has nothing to even do with you at all. . ."

"Your mother moved your diary when she came in to straighten up. I watched from the closet. I didn't read it, I swear." Although he was starting to wish he had.

She looked at him for a moment, then looked down embarrassed, "Oh! Oh."

"Look, I should never have kissed you last night."

"What? Why not? Wasn't it. . . nice?"

He smiled at her. It was things like this that reminded him that however fast the Slayer might have had to grow up, she was still very young. "It was perfect."

"Then why. . ?"

"For starters, I'm old enough to be your ancestor. Not to mention you Slayer, me vampire, that can't end well."

"How do you know? I bet I'd be the first Slayer to date a vampire . . . not that. . . I mean when I say date. . ."

"I do know. You're not the first Slayer I've ever run across."

"So you're what a groupie?"

He was going to do this. He was going to tell her. "She's dead. I k-"

"Well yeah! Obviously! I'm the Chosen One remember? One Slayer dies, another's called. How. . . how long ago was this?"

"About twenty years ago. She-"

"So, she died, it's what Slayers do. I mean I don't know the history or anything, but I'm pretty sure there have never been any forty year old Slayers."

"That's not the point. I'm th-" She threw herself at him. She wrapped her arms around him and silenced him with a kiss. It was sloppy at first, really more of a smooshing than a smooching. But then her tongue darted out, seeking to pry open his lips and he couldn't deny her. She tasted just as sweet as she had the night before. He was completely lost in her.

It was Buffy who ended the kiss when she was forced to breathe.

"If we weren't who we are would you, would you be interested in me?"

"Yes. But we are who we are, Slayer."

"I have a name you know, Buffy. But yeah, I am the Slayer. So I don't get to have what other people get. This isn't normal, I grant you, but normal isn't part of a Slayer's life. I could die any day. Shouldn't I get a chance to be happy while I can?"

He brushed a lock of her hair out of her face, and looked at her. So young, so eager, so full of life. And she was right, that life was going to be short, if Malcolm was right, she had only two months to live. Could it really be wrong to try and make her happy, try and make her life easier for the little time she had left. "You been working on that all day?"

"Since last night actually."

"It's only fair I tell you, I wasn't planning on staying. When the Master is dead, I was planning on leaving Sunnydale."

"Well, who knows when that will be? After all, the Master's been alive for centuries. I'm willing to risk it."

He kissed her gently on the lips, pulling away before she could make it more. "I should get going. You still willing to train with me?"

"Yeah, Thursday night. I'll see you then?"

He nodded, and made his way out her window, so as not to let her mother know he'd been there all day.

He made his way home, unlocked the door to his apartment and went inside. He reached over to turn on a lamp, then he stopped and straightened up, sensing he was not alone.

"Who's here?" he asked.

"A friend," said a woman's voice.

He turned to face the voice, and lit a cigarette as he looked over the small blond woman in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform. Darla.

"Hi. It's been a while," Darla said as if they had been old friends.

"Hi? That's what you got to say after all this time? I'll be the first to admit I deserved the torture. But you left me out in the sun to burn."

"You got over it. You got away. Besides, we were doing you a kindness. Or are you having fun with that soul of yours? Look at you, you're living above ground, like one of them. You and your new friend are attacking us, like one of them. But guess what, precious? You're not one of them. . ."

She reached into a the pocket of her sweater with a handkerchief, and threw something at him. Instinctively he caught it. Then cried out in pain as he dropped the small cross.

". . Are you?" she finished.

"No. But I'm not exactly one of you either."

She walked over to the fridge, "Is that what you tell yourself these days?" She opened it and looked at the jars of pig's blood. "You're not exactly living off quiche." She closed the refrigerator door. "You and I both know what you hunger for. What you need. Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's who we are. It's what makes eternal life worth living. And you got such a brief taste of that. Only. . . what was it twenty years? But you can only suppress your real nature for so long. China proved that. You know, you broke poor, mad Drusilla's little heart."

"She broke mine," he whispered.

"Always the suffering poet. Tell me, does she find it poetic? A vampire with a soul. Does she think it romantic how you drained that Slayer in China. Does she think you'll come rushing to her aid like New York?" He looked away from her. "Oh yes, I know all about that too. Angelus told me. I wonder what he would think if he knew you had a new Slayer?" she perked up and clapped her hands together as if she had a wonderful idea, "Maybe we should tell him?" She gave him a sweet smile.

Mad with fear and rage, he roared as demonic features covered his face. He rushed the length of the room towards her, but she side stepped him coming around behind him and knocking him to the ground. As he hit the floor, she planted her foot in his back. The older vampire was able to hold him to the ground.

"I'm not afraid of you. I bet she is, though," Darla said.

"You think I didn't tell her? She knows all of it."

"Does she now. Hmm, maybe you did. But I bet she doesn't really trust you. You were one of us. You really did have potential you know. Taking that gypsy girl knowing exactly . . . well none of us knew exactly what would happen. But you knew what I would do didn't you. Actually, now that I think of it, I should really thank you for that, shouldn't I William? It could have been Angelus," she paused smiling, "When she turns on you, you know where to find us William." With that she gave him one good kick to the ribs, and left.





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