“Bloody Hell.”

The words echoed throughout the empty, desolate graveyard, laced with a tinge of bitter annoyance. What day was it again? Ah, yes, day one hundred and forty six. Ever since that night, the days no longer had names or even dates attached to them, time was measured in days, hours, minutes, since he had lost his slayer, every since he’d been dancing alone. In those one hundred and forty six days nothing had been able to occupy the platinum blonde vamps mind; patrolling was a waste of time, every demon was blasted with - and dusted by - the fury of the loss that was stealing away at Spike’s soul. Well, if he had a soul that was. All he knew was there was an empty feeling inside of him that nothing could appease. His sharp blue eyes drifted across the graveyard, taking in the emptiness with a disgruntled sigh of unneeded breath. It was all nothing without her. What a pounce he was, thinking on how he missed her well spun barbs and the verbal jabs she tossed at him. She challenged him in so many ways that it was impossible to just not think about her all the time. He tried to put on a tough façade for little bit; his girl was pretty set off by all this and it was all he could do to keep his own emotions in place so that he could help Dawn deal with her hysterics. Plus, this damn habit of letting his mind wander had taken over. It seemed every other moment his thoughts were drifting back to that evening before he’d lost her….

One hundred forty six days previously….

The adrenaline that was flowing through Spikes veins was threatening to overwhelm him any minute. With so much going on, it was getting hard to control the desires of the demon within him, really, all that was holding him back was the tiny blonde who was currently throwing a crossbow over her shoulder directly at his chest. One hand twisted out to grab it, slinging it over his shoulder as he watched her. “Whoa, pet, easy with the throwing of the pointy objects! Know it‘s not made of wood or anything but it‘s the principle of the matter and all”. His eyes drifted over that luscious curve of her backside before he forced himself to pay attention at risk of being impaled what with the Slayer just tossing weapons around like there was no tomorrow. Oh, right, apocalypse and all that, right, could actually be no tomorrow. Slowly, his pink tongue slipped across his lips, moistening them slightly before he took a step closer to her. The crossbow was tossed onto the nearby couch, eyes raking over her form as a look crossed his eyes that could only be deemed predatory. His mind was working over every available option he had here, which approach to take, what could best get him what he wanted in this situation. The scent of her was driving him crazy; the vanilla shampoo, the jasmine body lotion, the cucumber and watermelon body spray, not to mention the lingering scent of her arousal - while he had caught the scent on so many occasions, especially after a good fight - that scent in particular never failed to make him rock hard beneath his tight black jeans.


Clearing his throat, he took a step forward and risked getting bitch slapped, mustering up his courage and running one cold hand down the slayers arm slowly, soothingly. “Buffy, luv, take a breath pet, getting all strung out isn’t going to help anything or anyone..” He smiled slightly, glad she couldn’t see his smug expression as she paused in her rifling. Her body responded by relaxing for a second before it tensed again but this time for all new reasons as he gently tugged her up to a standing position, his hard erection pressing firmly against her from behind while his strong arms went around her midsection. He couldn’t help himself, the little minx had a spell on him; people thought the Red was the one who worked the magic, well they had it all wrong. “Apocalypse and all…” He muttered against her ear, his cool breath causing goose bumps to form on her warm skin “wouldn’t want the world to end without one last shag, huh?” A slow smirk crossed his features at her familiar sentiment of ‘pig’ fell from her lips. He could feel that she wanted it though, could feel it in the way that she pressed back against him, the way the scent of her arousal grew stronger…and it fueled on his desire even more. The way he referred to it so easily -- a shag -- like that was all it was for him but they both knew it was more then that. The sex was an escape for her, it was a demonstration of love for him, it had stopped being about the sex a long time ago. Every time one of these damn ‘end-of-the-world‘ -- ‘must-kill-slayer’ circumstances came up his unsouled body craved her even more then normal due to the fear deep inside him that this could be the one. The fight that she didn’t come out of, that he could lose her…and for some reason it was weighing heavily on him that night.


Chilled lips made their way up a previously made trail from the nape of her neck, across her pulse, up to the sensitive skin right below her ear. A satisfied smile crossed his lips as he felt the shudder run through her body; she could call him all the bloody names she wanted to but they didn’t hold the same meaning they used too. It was merely lip service to convince herself that she wasn’t enjoying the touch of the cold vampire that was her constant shadow. Nimble fingers shifted to find the hem of her shirt, sliding calloused tips over the soft skin of her stomach, admiring the smoothness that did little to hide the hard muscle that formed her body. God, she was beautiful. A temptress even when she was just standing still. Fucking poetry in motion. Without words -- words had a tendency to get him a good smack or two -- he turned her in his arms, his lips lowering to hers. As always, the feel of the slayers lips against his sent his body into a reverent awe, to have spent so many nights dreaming of the feeling and then finally experiencing it…well it was bloody beyond words, that’s what it was. Within seconds he had her against the wall, his lips assaulting her with the passion that fueled his very being, deepening the embrace and praising whatever gods had decided to bless him as she parted her lips for him. Strawberry. She was wearing strawberry lip gloss. The girl was about to go fight off the end of the world and yet she still had time to apply the sweetest tasting strawberry lip gloss. God he loved her. His tongue slipped between those lips, regretfully leaving the sweet taste in favor of exploring her mouth. She was so warm, his tongue slipped over hers, performing an ageless dance as he kissed her, so warm…and his thoughts were all a muddle again. She had that ability. Until that point, his eyes had been shut, just enjoying the kiss for what it was before his lids flew open - revealing passion filled cobalt eyes - as Buffy ground herself against his hard erection. A low groan escaped his mouth as he tipped his head back, eyes sliding shut again as her small hand ran over the length of his cock over his jeans, her breath ragged already. The things he was going to do her…his mind ran over images before he was pulled back to reality with her words. “No time…” Her voice was breathless, her actions driven by need as she frantically pulled at the button his jeans.


She was right of course, the scoobies were waiting and there were demons to fight and all that. One hand shifted to capture hers, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and pinning them to the wall above her head as his lips caressed down her throat again, pausing a second at her throbbing pulse before he focused on the task at hand. His dark eyes drifted over her as he undid the buttons on his pants before he paused, dropping her hands. Buffy’s eyes followed him as he ran his hand down her hip and then, unexpectedly, swung her up in his arms. “Gonna need a bit of a lie down before you fight the baddies, pet.” He winked down at her before he headed up the stairs to the living room. Every one was gone, and honestly, he didn’t have the patience to make it to the bedroom so he stretched her out on the couch. Making quick work of losing their clothing so that he could have an extra second, his eyes trailed over her body, his lips worshiping her quickly before he nuzzled her neck softly, his words a soft whisper as he spoke to her. “Guide me in, luv.” Really, he just wanted to feel that hand around his throbbing cock before he buried himself in her. His lips continued their trek over her neck as she reached down between them, bringing the tip of his cock to her entrance. His eyes slid shut as he felt how hot she was, his lip tucking between his teeth as his hand went to cup her breast, kneading softly and smiling as she arched into his touch. A calloused thumb brushed over her nipple, causing it to pucker and harden beneath his touch. She was so bloody perfect, perfect breasts, perfect body, everything was perfect in his eyes. “So wet for me, Buffy, so bloody hot…could lose myself in you..” His words were just mutterings before he thrust into her center, his eyes nearly rolling back as she moaned loudly in appreciation. He paused a second, not wanting to bust so quickly like some school boy -- damn the effects she had on him -- though his little slayer was impatient.

“Fuck me”

The words that spilled from her lips sent him over the edge. One hand went to swing under her knee, bringing her leg to wrap around his hips as he thrust into her. It felt like he was going to burn up in her liquid heat; he was aching to tell her he loved her, but instead contented himself on muttering how beautiful she was, how hot her cunt was, how tight she was wrapped around him and was rewarded by the moans and cries of pleasure she was emitting. She began meeting his thrusts, driving him in deeper, encouraging him to speed up and of course he willingly went along with her urgings. Her head was tossed back, her face flushed; he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, such beauty seemed almost holy to him. His left hand was curled around the arm of the couch, supporting himself and giving him some extra leverage to push into her while the other hand slipped between their slick bodies to find her clit, a moan escaping both their lips as he began rubbing the nub furiously. Within seconds her walls were tightening around him and he could feel his own release building. The pleasure was overwhelming his thoughts, pants of unneeded air escaping him as his lips went back to her neck. Seeing her writhing with pleasure, feeling her orgasm building, it was all clouding his mind and suddenly all he could think was ‘damn the consequences’. She had to know she was his. Even if she wouldn’t admit, he knew that she cared for him, it was on what level he wasn’t sure of. His lips trailed over her neck before he found her pulse, his tongue sliding over the spot as his eyes flickered up to her. “Spike!” His name was a drawn out cry as the swell of pleasure washed over her and in that moment, his game face slipped on, hidden in the curve of her neck. As her walls clenched around him, he slid his fangs into the soft skin of her neck, gently, so gently. Her body bucked wildly beneath his, the sensual act of blood letting merely compounding her orgasm or possibly sending her into her second - he wasn’t sure. The taste of her blood flowing over his lips, across his tongue pushed him into his climax, his seed spilling into her in violent bursts. His tongue soothed the marks on her neck as she thrust against him a few more times, her breath still so loud and ragged that she didn’t hear the words he mumbled in Latin, his face still resting in the curve of her neck. His body was trembling with the pleasure that she had just allowed him but he knew that within seconds she was going to be pushing him off of her so he stood - his eyes on her. Maybe it was the fact that there was a crisis looming over them, maybe it because he had just sent her to cloud nine and back, he wasn’t sure really sure what the reasons were but he didn’t question them, whatever the reason was, Buffy didn’t freak over his bite. Instead, he just watched as she raised her hand to her neck, touching the sensitive skin there before she offered him the faintest of smiles and turned to get dress. Taking his hint from her, he turned to get dress and a few moments later he had a bag of weapons in his hand and was following her out the door. His tongue ran slowly across his lips as he watched the sway of her hips and while the volume of his voice was soft, the tone was firm and possessive as he uttered one word.

“Mine”

He didn’t like the way the scoobies were being all antsy and not looking at him-ish. Leaning against one of the glass cases in the Magic Box, fingers tapping an incessant beat against his thigh, his eyes remained on Red as she fidgeted and shifted in her seat. Ever since his little walk down memory lane the night before in the graveyard, he was feeling even more pissy then usual and the fact that they all seemed to be hiding something from him wasn’t settling very well with him. Even with all the shit he had done for this little group in the past few months, they still looked at him like a damn outsider! He had grieved more than any of them, would damn well give his undead life for Buffy and would have, too, had he been able.

Spike’s attention was redirected as Willow started speaking about her worries concerning Buffy being in some hell dimension. That definitely caught his interest. It wasn’t that he exactly agreed with them, he wasn’t sure where Buffy was but he was pretty sure she wasn’t in pain. She was at rest but he couldn’t exactly burst out with that information. What was he supposed to say, ‘Sorry, kiddies, know you think I am the big bad and all and just to prove your point, I bit Buffy right before she died and claimed her as mine, linking our souls together for all eternity. So right about now, I think she may be sleeping’. Yeah, that was asking for a dusting, no doubt about it.

“Hey, earth to evil dead one.” Spike’s head jerked up in response to Xander’s hand waving in his face. Sometimes he still felt the undeniably urge to break the wanker’s neck, even after going through so much with the little scoobie gang. Evil. How the hell was he still evil? While he wouldn’t go around saying it out loud or anything, he was practically a damn white hat over here. All killing demons and crying over a slain slayer. Blue eyes narrowed as he cocked a brow at Xander, waiting for him to get on with whatever was so important as to interrupt Spike’s thoughts.

“You patrolling tonight or what?”

A smirk crossed Spike’s face, the old smirk, the one that said sod off without actually saying it. He didn’t have a whole lot of patience for niceties today. “Figure I’d go wander ‘round a bit, see what needs to be killed, all that lot.” He paused a second, his eyes narrowing immediately on Red as she got up and exited stage left. “Got a feeling there’s something going on here that I’m not bein’ filled in on, Harris.” Did they not realize he was a vampire? He felt like he should be wearing a sign -- Vampire! Heightened Senses! Reads people easily! -- since they all seemed to forget who he was so often. He may not be the big evil that he once was but he was still a vamp…he had the fangs to prove it.

“What…what makes you say that?” Xander’s eyes moved to where Willow had just exited before he looked back to Spike. “We’re just trying to figure out the game plan for tonight, who’s patrolling where and all that.” Xander’s voice sounded shaky, even to his own ears. They, the scoobies, had all decided it was for the best though, if they didn’t fill Spike in on the plan. They figured it wouldn’t sit well with the vamp and besides, he would just get in the way in the long run. “Want to take the west cemeteries? I’ll take the east and Willow and Tara can stay here with Dawn.”
Spike just shrugged, giving up on trying to figure out what was going on. If they didn’t want to tell him, well he would just find out on his own in a less obvious fashion. No use fretting over it. “Yeah, sure, I’ll take the West.” He cast one more curious look at Xander before he turned to head into the backroom and grab some weapons. With all the restless energy he had, killing something sounded like the best idea of the night.

*******

“Here baddies, come on out and play with Uncle Spike-y…” The distinct British voice wafted out over the still cemetery, leaving Spike feeling even more aggravated by the minute. The highlight of the night so far had been slicing off a fledglings head as he emerged from the grave - not exactly the most challenging of battles. “Bugger this…” Spike muttered with a low growl, kicking absently at a clump of dirt laying atop of the grass. “Maybe Harris is having more luck…would do the boy good to see a real fight…” With that in mind, he turned, starting the walk to the other side of Sunnydale where Xander was supposed to be patrolling. As usual, his mind started wandering down memory lane, this time about the first time he had seen Buffy. She had been what…sixteen maybe…when he first saw her and even as he told her that he was going to kill her, he’d been attracted to her. While even he wasn’t enough of love’s bitch to say that he’d had feelings for her then, there was no way he would deny that he had gotten hard just at the sight of the golden slayer. She had been so young and full of life, full of spunk and pride. He’d told her how the last slayer he’d killed had begged for her life but Buffy didn’t seem like the type to do that. Truthfully, that had only made him want to kill her more; Spike loved a challenge. I’d do anything for my sweet sixteen…, the song drifting from his mind and out of his lips without him really thinking about it. The Billy Idol song had meant more to him since he’d lost Buffy. When he pictured her in his mind, he chose to picture her as that cocky sixteen year old girl who thought she could take the world out with a single punch. He liked to picture her head cocked to the side as she sized him up, that cocky smirk on her face--that’s who she was. Spirited, beautiful and now all gone. With a low sigh, he shook his head, trying to shake himself out of the mood he was sinking into. All I need is a good fight, that’s all, it’ll straighten my mood right up he tried to tell himself though he knew nothing was going to help his mood. Regardless, he started walking a little faster towards the East cemeteries

The woods surrounding the cemetery seemed to be buzzing with some unknown charge as Willow and Tara started setting up the candles around the grave site. Willow's eyes settled on the gravestone, a small smile playing on her lips as she read the epitaph 'She saved the world a lot'. It was so fitting for their friend. "Don't worry Buffy, we're going to fix all of this...you'll be back in no time at all." She whispered softly as her hand trailed over the smooth stone before her focus shifted back to preparing the area being used for the spell. Everyone else seemed to just be accepting the fact that Buffy was gone but Willow couldn't go along with that. Willow was determined to fix this whole situation.

There were powers out there that could be channeled, requests and pleas that could be made, to bring Buffy back here where she belonged. She could feel the eyes of the others on her and knew she didn't have their full support in this but that didn't matter, as long as they were there to help perform the ritual.

"All right." She stated, rubbing her hands together as she looked over at her friends. "Lets get this started." Everyone was arranged into the places they needed to be - sitting on the ground around their best friend's grave - before Willow started to chant.

The seconds, or was it minutes, flew by without anyone thinking anything; they were all just focused on the fear running through them about the outcome of the ritual. No one was looking at Willow except for Tara, who was watching as her lovers eyes turned from the sweet normal color to a dark shade of brown and then slowly to black...

******

Now this is what I needed! Spike's thoughts were jubilant as he swung his axe in a full circle, watching with a pleased smirk as the demon's head flew off and the motorcycle he had been riding went catapulting into a nearby tree.

"Come on then, don't be shy boys, been lookin' for a bit of entertainment tonight."

His words were taunting, baiting the demons into a hurried, anger-filled rage that would get them killed. For a split second, Spike's attention was diverted from the demons in front of him to the sound of Red's voice, though he couldn't make out exactly what she was saying. The sound of a departing motorbike jerked him out of his concentration.

"Bugger." The blonde grumbled as he watched the demon he had been about to introduce to his axe ride off towards the sound of the witch's voice. "What, fighting a vamp isn't good enough for you, huh? Gotta go chase after a bunch of warm bloods." He tsk'd under his voice before he broke out into a jog, needing to get to the 'scoobies' before any of the demons got to them.

*******

The cemetery was silent except for the sound of Willow's chanting, making it easy for gang to pick up on the dull roar of the approaching bikes as it began filling the air. Xander's eyes flew open suddenly, making Willow's eyes flash with anger, piercing him with her gaze.

"Stay in the circle!" She commanded, her voice low and forceful.

"Will...there's someth-" he was cut off by the motorcycle that suddenly flew over his head. Immediately following was Spike, jumping off the same gravestone that the motorbike had just used as a ramp.

"Problems, mates!" He growled out, swinging the axe to take out another demon before he looked around, confused for a second. "What the bloody hell..." he didn't get a chance to finish his question before the demons started going for the scoobies and that just wouldn't do. He'd made a promise to little bit to keep everyone safe and that's what he was going to do.

"Xander, get Red outta here!" He growled, turning quickly as he felt something behind him. "Just in time for the party,mate." He muttered to the demon before he swept out his leg, knocking him effectively to the ground. With one fluid swing of the axe, he had the ugly thing decapitated.

Spike's eyes lifted to make sure Xander had Willow. Anya and Tara were heading towards the clearing, leaving Spike to chase after the demons that were heading back into the woods. The chase was a rough one, seeing as most of them had wheels and he didn't but the advantage was their bikes weren't made for the dirt paths that were covered with logs and sticks.

He was closing in when something stopped him - something he wasn't quite sure of - but... There was a tingling, a strange sensation in his fingers, then up his arms, into his torso. As the tingling continued to his chest, his eyes widened. It felt like something was squeezing him, taking the life out of him slowly - almost like he was suffocating, if he had needed to breathe that is. His throat felt tight, gritty, like he had swallowed something grainy and couldn't quite get it down.

A burning sensation was gripping his chest and the sheer panic that ran through his body terrorized him like nothing he had never experienced before. Spike had had his share of fearful moments, though most he would never admit to, but none of them compared to the sheer terror that gripped him like a vice, cutting into him with its sharp talons.

Without even realizing it, dropped to his knees, his fingers plunging into the soft soil of the ground, clutching the grass as his head dropped, eyes squeezing shut. Get a grip, mate he tried to convince himself, taking in slow breaths even though it felt like that was impossible.

In an instant, his head flew up, his eyes widening.

"Buffy."

His voice was strained as he pushed himself up off the ground, his brow furrowed, as he took off at a speed that probably could have caused a rip in the sound barrier. Something was wrong, something was wrong with Buffy. The claim was pulling him and he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from going to her even if he wanted to - which of course, he didn't.

"I'm comin', luv, hold on."


**********

"What..." Suddenly, that didn't seem like such a good thing to do - the whole speaking thing. The air in this place seemed a little thin, almost non-existent...wait, where was this place? Why was it cold? Buffy frowned, shifting a touch before she realized that she could hardly breathe. Suddenly it all registered, the red lining, the heavy wood atop of her.

A coffin...oh god...I'm in a coffin!

She'd been ripped out of the warmth, the light, the peace and placed into a coffin. Well, not directly placed--she assumed she'd been put in there when she was in heaven. God, it was so cold and it was getting so hard to breath. She was starting to panic, yeah, the panic was definitely setting in. Frantically, her fists pounded at the wood, trying so hard not to scream and waste the precious air. Air that she hadn't needed in heaven.

She forced herself not to think about that at the moment. Instead she started focusing on her fists as they finally cracked through the wood of the lid, only to cause a deluge of soil to pour in on top of her and down her throat, causing her to nearly choke. She had to get out of here. She had to. It was basic survival instinct now, it was crawl out of here or die again and who knew where she would go this time.


*******

The pain was getting worse, it was squeezing his chest so hard that he felt as if his ribs were going to break beneath the weight. What the bloody hell is going on? His eyes scanned the cemetery, landing on her gravestone. He nearly broke down every time he saw it and this time was no different than every other time. No matter how much pain Spike was in physically, it was nothing compared to the pain of her being gone. No matter how many times she had destroyed him mentally and emotionally he still loved her and when she had given herself to him, reluctantly as it was, it had been the best day of his unlife. Something was wrong with his girl and he was at a completely loss as to what to do about it or how to help her.

Pull it together, no use to her if you're a sobbin' pile of mush

Spike tried to control his emotions and the pain as he headed towards the gravestone that marked the place where Buffy rested. His head cocked, focusing his senses on a sound that was unfamiliar. His eyes narrowed as the soil shifted, crumbling a bit. The same bright blue gaze widened as he realized that something was moving in there, Buffy was moving under there. Once again dropping to his knees, he started pawing at the soil with his hands, flinging it on either side of him. He couldn't move fast enough, the few minutes seemed like hours to him before he saw the ivory hand. Frantically, he moved some more dirt before he could clasp his hands around her shoulders, tugging her up and into his arms. There she was, dirty, sobbing and trembling…and breathing.

His slayer was alive.

Buffy could hear the noises above her. They seemed so loud, so abrasive to her sensitive ears. They gave her some form of hope, however, so she focused on them as she kept clawing her way through the damp soil, feeling it lodge between her nails but not caring in the least at the moment. Her chest felt like it was being crushed from the inside. All she could think about was getting out.

She needed to get back where she was but she somehow knew instinctively that she had to fight to get out of the hole she was in. Panic was starting to well up inside of her and the idea of surrendering to death yet again was beginning to cloud Buffy's efforts just as a pair of strong arms gripped her, tugging her through the ground and onto the surface.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. It was so dark and cold up here, and her body was shaking as she finally focused on the man who was holding her. At that moment, in her eyes he looked like an angel, with shining white hair and glowing pale skin. This place though...it was so dark, cold and harsh...there shouldn't be an angel here. Maybe this guardian had come to rescue her from hell and take her back to where she had been...she could only hope.

Her throat hurt though; there hadn't been any pain before and she was already missing that aspect of the place she had been. Buffy's fingers twisted in the fabric of the man's tee shirt, clinging to the one thing that seemed safe in this hell or world or whatever it was. Her eyes focused on his bright blue eyes, clinging to the warmth in their depths, letting it warm her soul and comfort her fears, at least for the moment.

Thoughts swirled around so quickly in the slayer's mind that she couldn't figure out exactly what she was thinking. Was that even possible? To think so much that you ceased comprehending your own thoughts? Hazel eyes slid shut as she tried to fight the chill that was taking over her body; instead she chose to focus on the soft words that were coming out of her angel's mouth. Though they weren't really making sense to her, the sound was lulling her into a sense of security that she clung to.

********

"S'alright, pet, don't be scared...got you, your safe...never let anything hurt you again, Buffy, don't be scared..."

Spike just kept muttering the same sentiments over and over again. All he could tell her was that he had her, that she was safe, and apologize over and over again for not doing more to help her before. Promise after promise fell from his lips as he stood up, clutching her to his chest. For a second, he paused in uncertainty; did he take her to the Scoobies? She seemed so frightened and he was worried all the chaos that was sure to occur at the Magic Box would only set her back further.

His eyes dropped down to the trembling girl in his arms; she didn't look like his golden girl but it was her through and through. He could sense her fear, her panic, her confusion all through the claim and it was tearing him up inside. She didn't even recognize him. He was trying not to break down again, though cool tears were running unchecked down his cheeks. Heavy footsteps moved uncaringly over the graves as he carried Buffy through the dark cemetery unsure, as of yet, where he was taking her. He just knew he couldn't let her go, couldn't put her down. He'd let her go once before and look where that had gotten him - pulling her out of a grave. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Before she'd...well, gone away for a bit...they'd had a one sided relationship. How many bloody times had his love been thrown back at him? He was being used, he knew he was being used and he was just enough of love's bitch to put up with it. It seemed he would never find his peace with her but he sure as hell wasn't going to find it without her either.

Spike wasn't one to give up on things though. Angel -- in all his nancy boy glory -- had best described Spike's perseverance when he told Xander that 'Once he starts something he doesn't stop until everything in his path is
dead'. So he had moved past the whole making everything dead thing, well, with the aid of a government implanted chip and falling for a slayer, but still, the principle held. When Spike did something, he did it all the way and he kept going till he finished what he started.

So maybe he would never get his perfect chance with the Slayer; maybe he would never hear the words that he had so unwillingly spat out countless times I love you in return; and, maybe deep inside, he had come to realize that it was a losing battle. Needless of all the facts, Spike sure as hell wasn't going to just walk away. He wasn't going to give up hope.

Hope, what a foreign word for a vampire. Really, technically, there wasn't supposed to be any hope for a member of the undead. What was there to hope for? When he had been with Dru, his life consisted of danger and pain; he had lived on adrenaline, focusing on each day with the solitary goal of making
the most of that day alone.

Now, however, hope always seemed to be lingering just below the surface. Hope of acceptance, of affection, of usefulness...what a joke that was. Angelus, had he been around, would laugh his ass off if he could hear his childe thinking these thoughts. Hope. Hope that his slayer might be alright, might come back to them whole. He'd never give up hope. Especially not now. Buffy may not love him but there was no doubt in his mind that she needed him.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he focused his gaze down on the girl in his arms. "Almost home, pet, just hold onto me..." His words were a soft, tender murmur speaking quietly so he wouldn't wake up the girl who had finally fallen asleep. Maybe she would find some peace now, in her slumber. His mind reached out, trying to sense her feelings but they were muted within her.

Taking that as his assurance that she was ok for now, he started walking a little more quickly. She seemed to be calming down and as much as he wanted to hide her away with him forever, he knew that the little bit needed her sister and maybe, just maybe, that would help anchor his slayer just a bit more to the world she was suddenly pulled back into.

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

"It should have worked. I don't understand what went wrong..."

Willow's head was buried in her hands, tears running down her cheeks as she leaned against Tara. The rest of the scoobies remained silent, the mood heavy and hurting as they all mulled over the events of the night.

"We have to try again! We can't just leave her there! She's counting on us!"

Willow was pleading with the others to understand, they had been so close, so damn close, and Buffy had been just out of her reach. She could feel it during the incantation, she could sense Buffy as if she had been in arm's reach of her! Her eyes flew up to Xander, widening at the words that came out of his mouth.

"Will, the urn of Neurosis..." Xander began.

"Osiris" Anya's voice was helpful even through her tears.

"Right, the urn of Osiris.." He began again before he paused, letting out a slow breath as a light shut off in Willow's eyes.

"Broken." Willows voice was soft when she said the simple word, her eyes traveling back to Xander. "It's broken. I remember."

So that was it, the spell hadn't been completed, the urn had been destroyed by the rampaging motorcycle demons and Buffy was gone. Her best friend had been counting on her and Willow had failed her. A sudden gut-wrenching grief overtook her, pain seizing her as the reality of it all settled in. With a harsh, primal sob she collapsed against Tara, clinging to her as the tears fell down her still dirty cheeks. Everyone was to lost in their own grief to even hear the bell above the door ring as it opened.


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

Spike's bright blue eyes took in the sight of the morose crowd that was standing around the magic box. Suddenly, his mind went back to the cemetery, when he had come up on all of them sitting around Buffy's grave. Red was crying hysterically against Tara, while the rest of the gang just looked uncomfortable. A sudden rage started welling inside of him though he tried to keep it at bay, not wanting to disturb the girl in his arms. They had gone and fucked with things. He knew it.

"Does someone want to tell me what the bloody hell is going on!?"

He growled out, full game face on without him even realizing it. Powerful emotions did that, they brought out the demon in him without his consent and you better believe these were some powerful emotions swirling around inside of the vampire. He had known, damn it, he had known something was up when they
started acting shady the past few days, hiding things and being all tense and whatnot.

His arms tightened protectively around Buffy, holding her closer to his body as his eyes flashed amber, daring anyone to come near him and his girl. How could they go and mess with something like this? Red didn't know her own power and anything could have gone wrong. His eyes dropped down to Buffy,
thinking about how she hadn't even recognized him. A sudden fear gripped him, his brow furrowed even through the ridges - what if something was wrong? What if she hadn't come back whole? His eyes flashed again as he glanced back up to the Scoobies, waiting for some sort of explanation.

Willow was the first to step forward, her brow furrowed and her voice hesitant. "...Buffy?" She questioned softly, her eyes on her best friend who was wrapped in Spike's arms and clutched to his chest.

"What...what's wrong with her?" Xander questioned, a little nervous with Spike all 'grrr' and the possibility of the Buffster being a zombie or something.

"Nothing is wrong with her!" Willow insisted, coming closer, not even acknowledging the fact that Spike was vamped out. "She's just...she's in shock and she's tired, its been a long day for her, I'm sure..." She was trying to rationalize the fact that her best friend was there just as her eyes dropped down to her hands at the same time that Tara's did.

"Her hands, her hands are bleeding...her fingers..." Tara murmured, coming up beside her girlfriend, her hand supportively on her back.

"Oh, she's filthy." Anya stated, just as confused as everyone else as to why the slayer was so battered.

It hit Xander first, complete horror crossing his expression as he began shaking his head. "Oh, oh no..." At everyone's questioning looks he continued, forcing out the words that were stuck like bile in the back of his throat. "Our spell. Our resurrection spell worked like a magic charm. We brought her back to life...right where we left her."

Finally, Spike couldn't hold back anymore. Visibly tense, he went into the backroom of the shop, laying out his slayer oh so gently on the couch there. His fingers tenderly trailed over his marks on her neck, hoping that the claim he had on her would offer some sort of comfort. "Rest, love, I'll be back...never leavin' you again, pet." He murmured gently, kneeling down to press a soft kiss to her forehead before he stood and returned to the front where everyone was standing in shock still.

"Bloody right you did! Had to dig herself out of her own bleedin' grave!" He growled, still vamped and in a complete rage. "What the hell were you thinking, Red?" He stalked over to the witch, his hands gripping her arms harshly. "You don't even know what your dealing with, what you could have done to her!" He shook his head, trying to calm himself down, to reign the demon in before he did something that would trigger the chip and send him into searing pain.

"If...If I hadn't shown up when I did..." he wasn't about to explain how he knew that she needed help, that was a story for another day. "..she would still be in that grave, she'd be dead for the third time and it would lay on each of your bloody hands!" That time, the bloody was meant literally. Buffy's blood would be on their hands and he hoped they understood what he meant by that.

Taking a deep, though unneeded, breath, he let his head tip back, rocking on the arches of his feet before he narrowed his eyes at the group once more.

"I am going to go clean her up before Niblet sees her. I don't want anyone bothering her right now. Red, you and Tara go get the first aid kit and get some soup or something going. Anya, you go get Dawn and bring her here. I don't want to move Buffy yet. Harris, go get the Watcher and tell him to start finding out exactly how this spell could affect the slayer." His words were commanding, taking control. Giving orders and getting things accomplished was the only way he was controlling himself at this moment. His eyes traveled over the Scoobies, daring them to protest.

For once, no one argued with the peroxide headed vampire.

It was good that he was the one taking charge here. The role gave him a chance to concentrate on something other then the rampant emotions that were threatening to break out. His demon was just itching to emerge and protect the girl it believed to be its own; it was taking nearly all his concentration to just keep it restrained. Waiting for a moment, he allowed everyone to go achieve the tasks he had set upon them before he called over his shoulder to the girls that were retrieving the first aid kit.

“I am taking her upstairs.”

With that, Spike disappeared into the back room to gather the still sleeping slayer into his arms once again. His eyes slid shut as she cuddled to his chest; he hadn’t thought that he would ever have the sensation of her warm body against his again. It had haunted his dreams since the day she had died. Somewhere, some god had to be smiling at him though he didn’t know what the hell he had done to deserve this blessing. Focusing on the task at hand wasn’t easy but he managed to get Buffy upstairs to the apartment that Giles had previously occupied before the watcher had fled to England with his tail between his legs.

Thankfully, his invite was still good even though no one lived there or maybe that was the reason the invite was still good since the place was vacant. Either way, it gave him the opportunity to make use of the facilities and do what he needed to patch up his slayer before Niblet saw her like this. Buffy was deposited oh so gently on the bed, soft promises that he would be back murmured before Spike headed into the bathroom to run a warm bath. He could only hope that the temperature would suit her and maybe even draw her back into awareness of her surroundings.

When he went back into the hall to see if he could rummage up a towel or robe or something he noticed the first aid kit sitting on the couch. Apparently, the witch wasn’t ready to face the one that she had brought back to life. Once again he was caught up in fighting the demon, as much as he would like to let it out to teach Red a thing or two about messing with magic, he didn’t want to frighten Buffy when she woke up. With the demon properly leashed he continued on.

Grabbing the kit, he dropped it in the bathroom before he went back to the bedroom, pausing for a second just to drink in the sight of her. The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious The words she had spat at him came into his memory at the worst of times but it was slightly ironic. Now that she barely seemed to know who anyone was, now he got to take care of her, now he got to touch her and hold her. It was anyone’s guess what would happen when she gained full awareness once again. Maybe she would accept him and his help but the greater chance was that he would just be pushed into the background yet again.

Almost reverently, the vampire took a few steps forward to kneel on the side of the bed. Pale blue eyes caressed the girl in front of him - the girl he had obsessed over, lusted about and grieved for - carefully, he eased her shoes off her feet and then gently ran his fingers along the hem of her skirt. After only a seconds hesitation he tugged it off, along with her stockings, tossing them aside. Her top came next and before long he was carrying her bare form into the bathroom, placing her into the tub of warm water. .

“Come on now love, don’t you want to enjoy the bath?”

His voice was almost pleading, gentle still but pressing just a touch. He needed her to wake, needed to know she was ok. Buffy remained silent and apparently unconscious though so he went about washing her quietly. He’d leave her hair for later, no use in shocking the girl by dumping water over her head. Once he was satisfied all the dirt had been removed he reached for the first aid kit, taking out the peroxide so he could bathe her wounds in it – had to get all those germs out. Spike did everything without thinking about it, even diluted the peroxide a touch so that it wouldn’t sting too much, like he just instinctively knew how to care for her.

His hands gently caressed her fingers, taking particular care to treat the wounds that had been caused by her digging from her coffin. A soft sigh escaped his sculpted lips as he raised her fingers to his mouth, brushing a tender kiss against the tips.

“Wake up for me love, come back to me…”

Spike’s eyes were closed as he muttered the words, so caught up in his grief that he didn’t even sense when she opened her eyes to focus on him. Her voice was what dragged him out of his thoughts causing his own eyes to fly open.

“Spike?” Buffy murmured softly, her brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to remember what happened. Suddenly, she was aware of her nakedness and she sank farther down into the tub, trying to regain some sense of dignity and modesty.

Spike felt as though his dead heart was about to burst to life as he heard his name fall from her lips. “Yeah, pet, it’s me…” He forced out, his voice husky and thick with emotions. At least she recognized him… that had to be a good sign, right?

“What…what’s happened?” Buffy questioned, her voice confused and a little bit of worry crossing her features.

Alright, she wasn’t screaming and she wasn’t throwing him out, so far so good. Though, she just had to hit right away with the tough questions, huh? His brow furrowed a touch and his head tipped in the way that was familiar to the blonde in the tub. That little cock of his head that meant he was thinking of something or trying to form the words that he was searching for.

“What do you remember?” He questioned, that would be easier to handle then trying to explain everything himself.

“Um…” She hesitated a moment, raising one soapy hand to brush back her hair, making a face at the grossness of her locks before she continued. “…I remember…Glory…and the tower…and…oh god, Dawn, is she alright?”

“Niblet is fine, pet, she’s been goin’ to school and everything, made sure of that, I did.” The constant reminder to Dawn that Buffy would have wanted her going to school and doing things right from her hero Spike had been enough to get the girl going in the mornings. “What else do you remember?”

“I…I jumped and then the next thing I remember is…” Buffy cut herself off abruptly, her brow furrowed as the memories of heaven started pouring back into her recollection. She wasn’t ready to share that yet, especially not with Spike.

Spike. Spike was sitting in the bathroom while she was naked and in the tub. What the hell was going on? This had to be some sort of alternate dimension. If it weren’t, the Spike she knew would definitely be making some snarky comment or lewd gesture or something! Her nerves were suddenly on edge, her fingers clenching on the side of the tub. “I need to see Dawn.” Her voice was firm, demanding almost. “Now.”

Spike could sense it as soon as the nerves started hitting her, the moment she became uneasy with him seared into his being with a pain that had to match hell’s flames. His golden goddess was back from the dead and still she was untrusting of him. The claim gave way to her confusion, letting him in on her feelings and emotions and it tore him apart inside to know that she was hurting. Her words, well more so her tone was so reminiscent of the past that he had to physically stop himself from flinching. Instead, he just ducked his head and nodded, slowly standing. “Right. I’ll just go get her then.”

Setting his jaw, the muscle there twitching to give away his barely held in frustration, he made his way out of the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind him. A low growl escaped his lips as his human mask fell away to let the demon out. “Bloody hell!” He growled harshly. “What does it bleeding take?!”

With that out, he let exhaled a low breath. He definitely needed a spot of violence or something. With the slayer all fresh back from the grave, he wasn’t about to let out his anger on her. He hadn’t even given her any attitude or salty comments when she had tensed up on him after he had tended to her. She was just brought back to life from the dead for fucks sake, had to dig out of her own bleedin’ coffin. Even he wasn’t monster enough to lie into her after having a day like that.

Raking his hands through his hair – hair that had worked its way out of its gelled shape into unruly curls – he took a few moments to collect himself before he headed back downstairs to the magic shop. He had to collect Dawn and get her up to Buffy, definitely needed to call the watcher, he would want to know about all this and somewhere in there he had the feeling he needed to get some kind of nourishment for himself before he snapped and drained someone, preferably the whelp, sod the chip. This kind of stress could cause even one of those monks who’d made Dawn to curse, he was sure of it.

Thoughts were assaulting her mind at a faster pace then she could really handle. This was all just to much. This place, this earth, this shell she had been yanked back into. Buffy’s head fell into her hands, raking her fingers through her hair. That’s disgusting The completely unrelated thought flittered through her mind as she felt the dirt in the one time honey blonde locks. Blonde…Spike. He had been there when she woke up. The blonde vampire had helped her come out of the ground and held while she freaked out about how different it was here then in…well wherever exactly she had been before.

Sea green eyes drifted down to her body, taking in the bruises and the carefully cared to cuts on her hands and arms. He had taken care of her even when she hadn’t been awake and from what she could tell - from what she believed inside - he hadn’t even tried to take advantage of her. Not that she really thought he would have. As much as he had told her over and over that he had changed and as much as she had denied that fact over and over again…she knew he really had. He wasn’t the same vamp who had blown in here in that old black Desoto intent on bagging his third slayer. Not only had he gained a chip while in good old Sunny D, it seemed he’d grown a conscience too, maybe even some semblance of actual feelings. Good feelings. Protective feelings.

There she went again with the wandering thoughts and of all things to be thinking of at a time like this. Focusing on Spike. She had to get over this thought process like now. There had to be other things to think about now that she was alive again. Thinking…thinking…Dawn! Right, that’s what she should be thinking about right now. The sister that she had died to save - she needed her now and she had to focus on that. Couldn’t focus on how these lights hurt her eyes, the way it was so cold, even in the still warm water, the way that everything was so loud…the way things had felt better in a certain dead beings arms…she couldn’t focus on that. She had to focus on Dawn.


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

“Buffy’s…what?”

Spike tipped his head back and took a deep breath as Dawn stuttered out the same question that she had been asking for the past twenty minutes.

“Big sis is alive and…” he cut himself off at that, he wouldn’t quite say that Buffy was well. “…well, she’s alive.” Great Spike, way to break it to the girl. All gentle like. “Look, bit, I don’t even know what’s all going on here. I just… I just knew the slayer was in trouble was all and when I went to the grave, well, there she was.” He didn’t think that she needed to know that Buffy had to claw her way out of her coffin. “She’s upstairs and she’s wantin’ to see you so don’t keep her waiting any longer, got it?” He smiled lightly, trying to be reassuring - not so easy to do when you haven’t practiced that certain quality in over a century.

“Are…” Dawn collected her breath, swallowing heavily as she continued. “..are you sure its really her? I mean, it could just be the buffy bot and everyone’s just wrong…hopes up…you know how the scoobies get, all jumping into things…”

With a soft sigh and a hesitant rocking on the balls of his feet, he finally just sussed up all the nancy boy in him and reached over to draw the younger girl to his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. It was surprisingly easy to press a reassuring kiss to the top of her head, soothing her quietly. Must be what being protective over something other then a daft bint of a vampire felt like. He wanted to take away her fear and her apprehension, wanted to chase away the pain and doubt that was in her.

“It’s her love, trust me on this one, its her.”

Spikes reassurance seemed to settle her mind, letting Dawn nod and smile a bit watery on him.

“Well, I guess…I’ll go say hi to her then.” She muttered absently, worrying her lower lip as she left the platinum blonde vamp at the bottom of the stairs, heading up to see her sister.
Spike just let out a low breath, running his hand over his head causing the gel to loosen its hold on the platinum locks, bringing out the natural curl even more so then it had already been. It made him look so much softer and that, along with the pain and distress on his features, made him look less like the big bad and more like a worried lover. His jaw tensed as he patted down his pockets, finding the pack of Kamel Red Lights he had bought with money he had nicked off the whelp. Maybe a cigarette would stop this bloody shaking in his hands.

Stepping outside, grateful for the cloak of dusk, he lit up the smoke before he noticed that Willow was sitting on the curb in front of the store. His eyes took her in silently for a moment, leaning against the wall as he exhaled.

“Is…is…she…Buffy?” Willow questioned softly, the words stuttered and broken and obviously forced out through a choking clog of tears in her throat.

Spike took his time thinking through his answer - hitting on the cigarette with an almost eerie calm. “She’s Buffy alright…just a scared, confused and upset Buffy.” His eyes rolled up, his jaw tensing as he opened up the claim to sense how she was doing. “She’s uncomfortable here now, unsure of where she was and worried about how she’s going to handle being back and all…nervous about seeing all you lot more so Dawn then anyone.”

“She told you all this?”

Right, it would be kind of weird for Buffy to be spilling her guts then, wouldn’t it?

“Well, its written all over her face, that’s how I know. Kinda hard not to see that she’s in pain and lost.” Spike tried to cover up his tracks. He definitely wasn’t in the place to explain the claim to the scoobies, couldn’t handle being all shunned and looked at like the outsider who was trying to hurt the slayer. Didn’t they bleeding well understand that he would die for her? “I think she’s in shock, you know. All being brought back and whatnot.”

The smoke was exhaled slowly through his parted lips as he ashed the cigarette to the side, his eyes moving back to the empty walkway instead of focusing on the witch. “You didn't tell me. You brought her back and you didn't tell me.” His voice was almost choked, they hadn’t thought this through and he just wished he could get it through the witches head that magic always had consequences!

Willow’s brow furrowed gently as she looked up at Spike. She really hadn’t thought twice about not telling the vampire about the plan to bring Buffy back when it was in the makings. It wasn’t like he was a part of the scoobies. Now though, as she looked at him, as she saw the pain and the…what was the other expression on his face…well whatever it was it had her feeling even more guilty.

“We…we just thought…I mean…”

“You didn’t bloody well think! That’s the problem!” He growled out, barely keeping the demon restrained as he lashed out at the witch. “You knew there was a chance that she'd come back wrong. So wrong that you'd have ... that you would have to get rid of what came back. And I wouldn't let you. If any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let you. And that's why you shut me out!” His words were an outburst of near hysterics, it was just beyond him that they had taken this chance. Of course he wanted to have Buffy there with him, of course he would give anything to go back to that day and make it so that she didn’t have to jump, so that she didn’t have reason to die in the first place but never would he take this chance with her. Never.

Nearly shaking with the need for violence among other things, he tossed the cigarette aside. “I need a sodding drink.” With that he turned in a swirl of leather, heading back inside the Magic Box to find an old stash of Rupe’s scotch.

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

As she walked up the stairs to the recently abandoned apartment, Dawn mentally prepared herself for disappointment. In was inevitable that some day, with all the wishing and missing, that someone would mistake the Buffy-Bot for Buffy herself but Spike of all people? Spike knew Buffy, he could like pick out her scent and all sorts of things that were huge on the gross factor like that. He of all people should know that Buffy was gone. She wasn’t come back.

With a soft sigh, the young teen pushed open the door to the bedroom - her eyes taking in the blonde girl who looked so broken, almost lifeless. She was clad in track pants and a white tank top, curled up on her side, as if hiding from the world itself. Dawn’s eyes widened as she gazed at the girl on the bed - it wasn’t the bot, the bot was always happy, smiling - this girl was….

“Buffy?”

Dawns voice was hesitant, watching the girl carefully as she moved a little on the bed.

“Buffy…is it really you?” Her voice was a little shaky, nervous and worried and definitely unbelieving. Her sister was supposed to be gone…not laying in Giles’s old bed and staring at her like Dawn was the ghost in the hose.

“I..I mean…are you really here?” A few steps had Dawn moving to the bed, her hand slowly shifting from her pocket to gently touch Buffy’s shoulder. As soon as their skin made contact though, Buffy jumped as if startled which made Dawn draw back and skitter back to the door again. She stood there, just watching the girl who had always been the strongest person she had ever known - nearly tremble in her younger sisters presence. She didn’t even hear as the door to the apartment opened - didn’t hear the voices in the living room - didn’t even notice anyone was around until the bedroom door open.

“I think we screwed it up. She's broken.” As usual, Anya’s tone was amazingly blunt as if she as stating a given fact to Willow who was standing behind her.

“No! She's not broken! She's just .... disoriented from being ... tormented in some hell dimension. Probably tortured and ... It's like, we don't even know how much time has passed there for her, uh, possibly years! That's not something you just get over! Oh my God. What if she never gets over it?” Willow was close to tears yet again, Spikes words had really struck a chord - what if she had acted to soon, what if Buffy really was broken?


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

Buffy knew it was Dawn. That was Dawn, standing right in front of her. The one who was talking to her was Dawn, her sister. The one she had died to save. That was Dawn. She needed to go to her, hug her, reassure her even. Still, even though her mind knew it, something inside of her was telling her to stay back, to protect herself. No one could be trusted and no one could be close to her . The feeling -- the instinct -- inside of her demanded it. Her eyes narrowed as she slid off the bed and watched the girl standing by the wall. Buffy concentrated on trying to get her body and heart to understand that this girl wasn’t any danger, she was no harm but her thoughts were distracted by the two other voices.

Anya and Willow, see, she knew who they were too. Willow was her best friend, a witch and Anya was an ex-vengeance demon who was dating Xander. Buffy’s mind frantically worked through all the thoughts she was sure of and even all of that didn’t make her feet move towards her family and friends. Her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she eyed the people. Something was missing here, someone was missing….

“Where’s Spike?” Her voice was harsh, demanding, almost accusing. Just a few minutes ago she had sent the vampire away in favor of her sister and now, suddenly, she felt like if he wasn’t there she wasn’t going to be able to handle this. That couldn’t be right though. Spike was evil, a souless monster who wanted nothing more then to kill her. He wanted to having bragging rights on the death of another slayer, that was it, that was all there was to it.
Her brow furrowed yet again as her lips puckered into an almost pout. That wasn’t right either. As much as she knew that Dawn was her sister and Willow was her best friend, she knew that Spike would never hurt her again. Where did all this sudden belief in Spike come from? Dark eyelashes lowered as she squeezed her eyes shut, this was all wrong, she had come back wrong. It was all to confusing and to hard to sort it all out right now.

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

Spike was sitting downstairs in one of the many chairs scattered around the Magic Box, taking long gulps from the bottle of Brandy. He was trying to shut off the connection to Buffy caused by the claim - he’d found if he just worked at not listening to her feelings, he could almost pretend he didn’t feel them. Bloody bint didn’t want him around anyways, no use in wallowing in her sadness and losing himself in her pain. Only made him want to fix it all and that wasn’t an option when the girl was kickin’ him out of her room now was it?

His jaw clenched as he took another long drink from the bottle, eyes closing before they flew back open again. Now there was a feeling he couldn’t ignore - his slayer was about to cry. No one made his girl cry. With a growl his demon took over, legs carrying him as fast as they could up the stairs and into the apartment.

“What the Bloody Hell did you do to her?!” He growled at the two girls who took a step back at the fully enraged vampire.

“Well, Willow brought her back from a horrible Hell dimension where she was most likely tormented and now she’s broken.”

Of course, Anya with the play by play….