Florida:


Light from the sinking sun flared brightly, throwing the long shadow of the chosen one behind her as she stood gazing out across the ocean.

Standing at the edge of the water watching the day die in a blaze of glory, Buffy’s tranquil features reflected those of a woman who was at peace with herself, and the world around her. Nobody would have guessed from her expression that her mind was far from the beauty playing out in front of her.

Her memories and thoughts both focused inward, back to over a year ago and more than three thousand miles away. Back to a town and a man who no longer existed.

It was the light from the setting sun that had done it, had made her think of that last day in Sunnydale. The brightness and clarity of the light from the sunset as it first kissed the waters edge, flashing her back to the light shed by the dying vampire in the Hellmouth.
Of course, if it hadn’t been the sunset it would have been something else.

Yesterday at the local market that she and Dawn frequented, it had been a British voice, the week before that it had been a song on the radio, the time before that a Man U jersey worn by some tourist, and so on and so on. Every place she’d been, every new sight her eyes had taken in over the last year, had been coloured by thoughts of him.

There wasn’t a place she could go that didn’t hold some reminder of Spike.


England had been the worst, the constant stream of Spike speak driving her back to the states after barely a month. Her guilt over leaving Giles to cope with all the new slayers had barely registered, she just knew that she couldn’t take one more heart wrenching moment of the hope she felt, each time she heard some random British curse. A simple Bloody Hell in the right tone had her head whipping up, pulse racing, expecting to see him, even as she knew that logically it was impossible. It had been sheer torture that not even her slaying could distract her from.


So she and Dawn had come home, well not home exactly. She couldn’t face California, and the thought of seeing Angel had turned her stomach, so she’d told Dawn to pick a place, and that’s how they had ended up in Key Largo.

Dawn thought the irony of the Key living in the keys was hilarious, and the easy access to Disney World hadn’t hurt either. Buffy herself had figured that Florida was the one place she wouldn’t be reminded of Spike, and after ascertaining that the area was actually pretty low on the demon activity front, she’d conceded to Dawn’s choice.


Eight months on, and she’d come to realise that no place in the world would be safe from the memory of the man she’d loved too little too late.

She missed him more than she thought it was possible, more than Angel when she was seventeen, more than her mother that first year… more than heaven.
Sometimes she wondered if he hadn’t taken a part of her soul when they’d joined hands that last day. It sure as hell felt like something inside her was missing.



She sighed heavily as she reached down to pick up her shoes and the novel she’d barely touched. Turning to make her way back to the street, she was distracted from her thoughts by the sight of her sister running towards her, franticly calling her name.

“Buffy, Oh God Buffy, oh My God you have to see this. C’mon your not gonna believe it!”


Buffy didn’t even have time to get a word out before Dawn was babbling excitably and dragging her towards the street and their small apartment.

“I promise I was so going to study for that test on Wednesday like you said, but then I remembered there was gonna be a rerun of the Dawson’s final, and since I missed it the first time cos of …” She gulped heavily, before looking distinctly shifty. “Uh never mind it doesn’t matter.” she blurted, before continuing with her babble fest. “So I was watching Dawson’s, and God” she huffed rolling her eyes “talk about lame, I don’t know what the hell Joey’s damage is but she so didn’t deserve…”


Buffy rolled her own eyes, she was sure her sisters’ ability to get off topic was the direct result of too much Willow exposure; she snapped her fingers under her sisters’ nose to get her attention. “Focus Dawnie, focus, back to the splainy, critique Joey’s love life later.”

Dawn glared at the amused look on her sisters’ face, but remembering the reason for her rush to get to the beach, she launched back into her story with barely a pause for breath.

“Ok so I’m watching the show, when all of a sudden it gets interrupted by this news flash. At first I thought it was some sort of terrorist attack, cos there’s like fire and smoke and people running and lots of jerky shots of downtown LA from a helicopter, so I’m sitting there freaking out and then whoa… the camera zooms in and there’s this shot of an honest to god freakin Dragon….”

Buffy’s eyes widened, but she didn’t get a chance to interrupt, Dawn sucked in another, much needed breath and shocked her sister nearly speechless with her next words.

“So ok the Dragon? It does this great big swoopy thing and I’m thinking Whoa… someone is about to be toast! But then the guy filming it loses it for a moment and I’m sure the next thing I’m gonna see is either the camera guy filming his last moment on earth, or maybe something worse, cos I can hear him yelling Holy Shit and then the camera goes majorly spastic.”

She took an even deeper breath.

“But this is the part your not gonna believe… The picture clears up and it’s the Dragon again and it’s got bloody Angel clinging to its neck and he’s waving a honking big sword, and they’re flying above what looks like an army of demons.”


Her little sisters excited babble, stalled as an awed and frightened look settled on her features.

“God Buffy, I’ve never seen so many demons in the one place… it was… freaky, I mean sure there was the whole Hellmouth and Turok-Han thing last year…but this, it was uber creepy. I mean, I knew from research and stuff that there are lots of different types… but to see them… to see them all together like that.”


Dawn’s eyes met hers, and in them was a look of respect that Buffy found unnerving in her blasé sister. She knew Dawn was experiencing something that up until now Buffy had never been able to put into words, at least not to anyone who wasn’t a slayer. And it more than bothered her that the last of her sisters’ innocence had been lost, seeing something on TV that Buffy had spent years trying to protect her from.

Dawn’s expression tightened at Buffy’s, her eyes falling away at her sisters’ look of sympathy. She shuffled her feet, hesitating over wether to tell her sister the rest of what she’d seen.

Buffy though, had noticed the classic Dawn avoidance gesture, and her gaze sharpened as the younger girl fidgeted before falling silent.

“What is it Dawn? What aren’t you telling me?”

Dawn sighed heavily before meeting her sisters’ eyes. “Ok…so you gotta promise not to overreact and start yelling.”

“Hey! I think I’ve been pretty damn calm so far. You’ve just told me that there’s some big battle going down in LA involving my ex and a Dragon and I’ve been all about the calmness. So spill already, it can’t be that bad…can it?”


At the apprehensive look on her little sisters face Buffy felt a sudden chill scuttle up her spine.

“I think,” Dawn ventured hesitantly. “But I’m not completely sure… that I may have seen Faith and Willow.”

At the blank look on Buffy’s face she looked away before continuing.

“It was only for a second, and the picture was kinda fuzzy but I swear I saw Willow, Faith, and at least a couple of what I think might have been slayers. They were pretty far back from the action but… well, Willow’s magic is pretty memorable… and um... I ah… I sort of... maybe... think I recognised the scythe, in the hand of someone who looked an awful lot like Faith. I…I could be wrong Buff. I mean…”

Raising her eyes back to her sisters’ face, she voiced the question running through both their minds.

“Surely Giles would have contacted you first, or at least let you know that he was sending the others?”


Buffy’s expression was thunderous, her thoughts even more so.
She cursed before grabbing her sisters’ arm and making a beeline for their apartment.


“Buffy slow down, sheesh I like my arm attached!” she whined, as her sister’s grip tightened.

Buffy released the younger girl. Throwing her a curt ‘Sorry bout that’ she increased her pace, anger pulsing like blood through her veins, she stomped up the steps to their new home.


It wasn’t until they were both in the living room, and the TV remote was in her hand that Buffy felt she could finally get words out past the fury that was threatening to choke her.


“That Bastard! He’s done it again! I should have expected it from Angel, he’s always pulled the protect Buffy shit, but I thought after Sunnydale Giles might have actually learned his lesson. Huh!” she finished bitterly. “I should have known, God forbid I might wanna be there to help another vampire.”


Dawn didn’t say a word, she just watched wide eyed as her sister franticly channel surfed looking for the story she had seen earlier.

Within seconds Buffy had found it.


Five minutes and one crushed remote later, Dawn found herself in her room packing for the flight to LA.

A little under 6 hours later, a small privately chartered plane touched Down at LAX.
Its only passengers, one pissed off Slayer and a very tired ex Key.

Buffy had fumed all the way, she was so angry with Giles and the others that she didn't realize, that for the first time in nearly a year her thoughts of Spike weren't ones of grief and regret.

She kept thinking about Giles betrayal, his conspiracy with Robin Wood to kill Spike, and the fact that he obviously still didn't trust her when it came to a vampire she cared about. And topping all her thoughts was the one unassailable fact, that Spike was the only man in her life that had never treated her like a child.
He'd insulted her, mocked her and tried to kill her more times than she cared to remember, but he had never, not even at his most evil, treated her as anything less than a woman and a slayer. He'd had more respect for her, his mortal enemy, than both Giles and Angel put together.

Ok, so she'd chosen to take a back seat to the whole slaying thing, it didn't give either of them the right to treat her like she no longer mattered. She was still THE Slayer, just because she wasn't sucking up to the council like certain other back stabbing Scythe stealing brunettes, didn't mean that she deserved to be kept out of the loop.
Angel was her ex, and LA was her home town, how dare they have an apocalypse without her. Ok so sure, she didn't know if it was really an apocalypse... even so... a Dragon and mega demons? Worth a phone call, you might think, even if only out of courtesy.
Seven Freakin Years and I don't even get an email. Willow is so dead when I get my hands on her.
And that two faced bitch Faith? Well, maybe they'd finally get to find out just who the better slayer was.

Her sole comfort was the apoplexy Giles was sure to have when he received her credit card bill, listing the expense of chartering a plane to fly her and Dawn direct to LA.
She smirked evilly at the thought of the look on his face, and the undoubted glassage breakage that would no doubt result from her act.
"Serves him right" she muttered as she hauled the bags with Dawn in tow to a waiting cab.

Dawn was tired, stressed, and worried, and not necessarily in that order. In fact, if pressed she'd have to say that worry was the definite front runner at the moment.
She didn't get what was up with the gang not calling, no matter what might have happened in the past she was sure none of them would have left Buffy out of this.
Admittedly it had been a while since she'd talked to anyone other than Andrew, but she was sure she remembered Buffy mentioning talking to Giles just last week, and surely she would have talked to Will or Xander in the last couple of days. Her worry only escalated when on asking her sister when the last time it was that she spoke to the others Buffy's reply had been as vague as her own memories.

It seemed neither of them could clearly remember talking to any of the Scoobie's of late, with the notable exception of Andrew.
As a matter of fact, Dawn found it more than suspicious that both her and Buffy had, up until the news report, been perfectly content to coast along. To such an extent that neither could recall the actual amount of time it had been since they checked in with anybody other than Andrew. Oh Yep She smelled a rat, An Andrew shaped rat.

By the time they had reached the offices of Wolfram and Hart she had gone over every conversation she'd had with the former Sunnydale residents in the last year, and every single one of them, bar the ones she'd had with Andrew, were as foggy as all getout.
Headed towards Angels old hotel after finding the Law offices a smoldering shell, Dawn came to the grim conclusion that it had to be at least six months, if not more, since she'd held an actual real conversation with any of the Scoobie's.
Someone, had been fudging the lines. In the form of a very sneaky spell, not exactly mind control, she mused, more of misdirected suggestion that made both Buffy and herself not think to question the lack of contact. Somewhat like a glamor spell she'd once found in one of Giles moldy old books. Though instead of covering their perceptions, it had just sort of turned them away from looking too closely.

Oh yeah...she was gonna have a very serious talk with Mr Andrew Wells, and if what she suspected was true?... then there was going to be some heavy slayer sic-age, very shortly.
The real question was why? Why would Andrew go to all the trouble of keeping Buffy and the Scoobie's apart? And who else might be involved?

As the cab turned into the Hyperion's Street, Dawn gaped at the scene before her, immediately shelving her worries for later, she turned her frightened gaze on her sister.

"Pull over, we'll get out here" ordered Buffy.
Hastily throwing the fare, plus a generous tip at the driver, Buffy didn't even wait for the cab to come to a complete halt before she had jumped out and was issuing fresh orders aimed at her sister.

"Dawnie, you stay back till I work out just what's going on." She commanded. Even as she charged towards the fighting she could see taking place amongst the staggering array of demon corpses that littered the area.

Dawn grumbled under her breath, but after retrieving the bags from the very nervous and impatient Cab driver, she was quick to make her way across the street, taking cover in the doorway of a mostly untouched building. Grasping a stake in her hand, she put her back to the wall and watched anxiously as Buffy reached the first of the battling figures.

As soon as Buffy entered the mouth of the alley the angry girl faded and the Slayer stepped forward. In one quick scan, she recognized at least three Slayers that she knew for a fact had been assigned to Faith. She also noted that she must have arrived pretty late in the game, she could tell by the girls' casual air that they were obviously on cleanup detail and that the worst of the battle was finished.

She waited until Corrine, one of the girls she knew, had finished dispatching her Demon and then approached her.

"Hey, Corrine guess I'm a bit late" she quipped "I see you guys have it all under control. Don't suppose you know where Faith and Will are, I was supposed to check in earlier but my flight was delayed."

As the other slayer whirled to face her Buffy prayed that her bluff wouldn't blow up in her face, after all she was flying blind here. She really had no idea what the others knew about her recent life, or what they had been told.

"Buffy?" The younger girls' eyes widened even as her use of the name attracted the attention of the remaining girls.

"Wow, didn't expect to see you here" drawled a familiar voice. "Thought you were ‘busy' in Rome 'partying', to what do we owe your unexpected presence. What's the matter; did the immortal finally get bored with hanging with the chosen one?"

Buffy's' head whipped around to glare at the owner of the sarcastic question, even as she rolled her eyes and groaned in her own head. Perfect, my night is now complete.

"Kennedy great to see you too" she offered perkily. "Love to stay and dish, but right now I sorta just wanna catch up with the what, so if you could just tell me where Faith or Willow is, I'll leave you girls to it."

At Buffy's honey coated tone, Kennedy scowled, before moving closer to the older slayer.

"Same old Buffy I see, still doing things by your rules, regardless of what we think.
You know you may still be Giles little darling," she spat bitterly "but the rest of us don't follow you any more. You think you can just do what you want? Then come swooping in at the last moment like you own the place. Times have changed Buffy, your precious Scooby gang might believe that your thing with the Immortal is all innocent fun, but I for one still believe the only good demon, is a dead demon.

And just so you know" she finished her tone scathing "that goes for your former lover as well."

Turning her back on the older slayer she addressed the others. "Ok you lot, lets finish up here, Giles has us slated for Prague day after tomorrow and I would like to get some shut eye before boarding another plane."

Just as a now very confused Buffy was sure Kennedy was going to walk off without answering her question, she turned back with a nasty little smile twisting her normally pretty features.

"Oh yeah" she offered, eyes glittering with malice. "Just so you know Wills is at the hospital seeing to some of the wounded, but if you want Faith she's upstairs looking after your ex, room 26.
And Buff, I'd knock first, cos they've been pretty cosy for the last day or so, what with the mutual life saving and blood sharing thing. You remember how it is with certain Slayers and vamps" she finished with a mocking laugh.

Turning her back to join the other girls she couldn't resist one last contemptuous look at the older Slayer, before moving off with the rest.

Buffy was left feeling like she had come in right in the middle of the movie. What the Fuck was going on? She and Kennedy had never been best buds, but the others bitchiness was way up the scale from the last time they'd met. And who the hell was this Immortal person that she seemed to think was Buffy's new best friend?

And the Faith and Angel dig? Huh... like she cared. That ship had definitely sailed, and it wasn't like she hadn't seen them all comforty in the past. Though she supposed she should at least find out what the blood sharing crack was all about.

Determined to make some sense out of what, to her was starting to feel like an alternate dimension, Buffy headed into the hotel.

The lobby was strangely deserted as she made her way to the first floor, so it didn't take her more than a couple of minutes to find room 26.

Standing outside the door she felt the familiar tingles that signalled vampire, the little something extra, telling her it was one she knew well.
Gritting her teeth, she prepared herself for the upcoming confrontation and knocked.

At Faiths' "Wait a sec" she shifted impatiently, waiting for the others ok.

When Faith threw open the door a minute or so later, every angry word or thought vanished, as over the dark haired slayers shoulder, she took in the sight of tousled bedding and an equally tousled Spike.



Don't flame me yet, things aren't quite what Buffy thinks. Though, the next couple of chapters should be interesting.
Please review.

Spike had been reclining on the bed, talking to Faith when he felt a slayer approaching his room. For a moment he'd felt an unexpected fluttering in his stomach, but quickly dismissed it as leftover stress from the battle.



When the slayers had first descended upon the LA battle, Spike's vamp senses had gone wild. His demon had become highly agitated at the overload of vibes, that to a vampire, signaled enemy.

For a moment he had hoped that amongst all the assorted tinglees, he might feel the ones he new better than any others.

Stupid ponce that he was, even after he'd seen the evidence with his own eyes, not to mention the watcher Jr's little speech, he'd still instinctively looked for Buffy.

Course she wouldn't come, she was probably too busy snuggling with her new honey to bother with the likes of me an Peaches. Bitch probly didn't give a shit if some vamp she'd used for muscle got all dusty a second time.

There was no way, Miss almighty Buffy Bloody Summers, would interrupt her perfect normal life to check on us. He shook his head ruefully. S' probly still too browned off with the broody one over the whole Wolfram and Hart stalker thing, to care that much about saving his arse either.



When Faith had moved in to fight at his back moments later, Spike had been surprisingly glad too see her, and when they'd shot each other nearly identical smirks he'd let the bitterness over Buffy fade back to where he shelved it after his return from Rome.

Fighting with a slayer, especially if it wasn't the one he'd hoped for, had gone a long way to reinforcing the conclusions he'd come to over Buffy and her actions in those final days of Sunnydale.



When he And Angel had first arrived back from Rome, Spike sat himself down and examined every interaction he'd had with the Slayer since he'd gotten the soul.

In the end, he had faced some painful conclusions, ones that he decided he had avoided for far too long.

Looking at it from a different angle with the added knowledge from the Rome trip fresh in his mind, Spike had faced what he believed was the real truth behind Buffy's ambivalent words and attitude.

Sure, she'd felt sorry for him cos of the soul and the way she'd used him, but a lot of how she was, likely had more to do with the way the others were treating her. Their lack of respect for her decisions and the loss of their trust, had forced the slayer into being alone in a way she was not accustomed too. So of course, she had naturally turned to the one person that still gave her what she needed.

Bloody stupid fool that he was, he'd read more into it, just like always.

When she'd let him in he'd thought it meant that she cared, when all it really meant was that she didn't want to feel alone.

He should have been clued in after her big sweeping speech to Peaches. Loves bitch to the last, that was him.

Well, not any more. She had showed her true colors in Rome, didn't even have the common decency to face him and tell him herself, got bloody Andrew to do it.

Sod that! From now on he was gonna be his own vamp.



The sharp rap on the door shook him from his brooding memories.

As Faith got up to answer, he grabbed her wrist.



"Hold up a mo luv" Scenting the air he frowned before stiffening with shock.

At Faiths inquiring look he just shook his head. Pasting his most languid expression on his face, he nodded. "S'ok pet, let her in."



Faith threw him a knowing look before arching a delicate brow.

"You ready for this Spike? I can tell her to wait downstairs."



Spike shook his head again, knowing from her expression that Faith too had sensed who was on the other side of the door.



"Na kitten, wasn't expecting it, but best get it over with. L'be fine, we've both moved on, S'pect she's here to talk to you anyhow."

Faith stared at him hard before shrugging, and then with typical Faith attitude she swung the door wide open.

At the older slayers startled look, she smirked before leaning casually against the door frame.

"Hey B so what's up?"



When Buffy's eyes traveled over her shoulder to land on the mostly naked vamp, Faith was startled to see the older girl blanch.

Tossing an inquiring look over her shoulder at Spike, she noted he looked positively decadent, the expression on his face unconcerned as he adjusted the thin sheet that covered his lower half.

He might have convinced himself that he was fine, but the sudden emergence of sultry Spike told the dark haired girl differently.



Moving to block Buffy's view of the vampire, she studied the others expression.

"So Buff, something I can do for you? Or is this a social call?" she inquired archly.

When Buffy didn't answer, Faith shrugged and retreated across the room to perch herself on the bed.

She wasn't sure what was going on here, but her first order of business was to protect the vamp, whom had become in the last two days, someone special to her.



As Faith sat, Spike leaned forward and draped himself against her back. Hooking one arm over her shoulder, he reached down and without looking, retrieved a crushed packet of cigarettes from the brunette's breast pocket.

"So slayer, wasn't expecting to see you," he drawled "Thought you were staying in Rome with your new beau." He cocked an eyebrow. "Surprised old Morty let you out all on your lonesome. Wa'sup... he get bored already?" smirking, he waited for her to bite.



When seconds went by and all she had done was stare, eyes darting between the arm that was still around Faith shoulders and the other slayers face, Spike started to get angry.

He just wasn't sure at whom.



Buffy felt like she had fallen down the rabbit hole, the room wavered before her and for a moment she was sure she was going to faint.

She vaguely registered Faith saying something, but for the life of her she couldn't seem to focus on the words, or anything else.

The impossible sight of the vampire that was casually lounging on the bed took her entire attention.

She tried to open her mouth to say something but her brain refused to cooperate. It was busy trying to process the fact of the vampire, who she had believed dead, being very much alive.

When Faith moved to sit and then leaned into his casual embrace, Buffy thought she had finally lost the plot.

The man she had spent the last year mourning and missing was sitting meters away from her, holding a slayer that was not her. And he didn't look in the least happy to see her.

She barely caught his next words; her mind was too busy trying to make sense of Spike and Faith. Together?



When Buffy stood there gaping like a landed fish, Spike felt his annoyance trip over.

What the fuck was up with the stupid bint? She was acting like she'd seen a ghost.

When Faith reached up to entwine her fingers with his and the blond slayer flinched, the penny dropped.

Oh ho, he thought bitterly. Forgot the slayer don't like others playing with her toys. Not good enough for the likes of her, but we can't have anyone else taking them out for a spin.

Successfully reigning in his ire, Spike smirked before leaning forward to hook his chin over Faiths other shoulder.

"Cat got your tongue Slayer, you gonna bloody stand there all night or what? Hell cat an I got better things to do than sit here waiting on you." He tapped the back of his top teeth with the tip of his tongue suggestively, watching for her reaction from under downcast lashes.

When she failed to react in any way other than a tightening of her jaw he rolled his eyes.

"Right then," he drawled "if your not gonna tell us what brought you slayer, be a luv and toddle off. S'pect whatever it is can wait till later...yeah."

He fixed his most suggestive leer on his face and deliberately ran his free hand down the other slayers arm.





The Slayer in Buffy snarled as Spike ran his fingers over Faiths skin and Buffy finally found her voice.

"You're dead... I saw you die...How?" Unfortunately, when she reached for her next words her mind again went blank.



Spike, startled by her words, tried not to show it. Slayer was acting like she hadn't known that he was back, and there was no way he was buying it.

Both Faith and Willow had known about his un-dustiness, and yeah, they hadn't actually told him in so many words that Buffy had known, but he wasn't stupid, he could read between the lines. The pity in Willows eyes alone, was enough to confirm what had not been said.

Don't know what her game is, but I'm done playing, was his resolute thought, even as he replied.

"Still dead slayer, just a little less flamy" He smirked and waited to see how she would react to his flippant words.



Buffy couldn't deal.

With everything she had learned today and the frantic flight from Florida, she had already been exhausted and strung tight enough to snap.

Spike's cold words finished the job. With a harsh sob, she shot him one last devastated look and bolted.



Running headlong down the stairs with tears streaking down her face, she did not even register the presence of Angel and a badly rattled Andrew.

She ran as fast as her slayer speed would allow, not stopping until she had collapsed into the arms of her sister.




Ok I know it looks bad, but again I am going to say… not all is as it seems.
Think Anya and Xander's wedding. And keep the (pardon the pun) faith.
Remember I only write Spuffy!

The moment that Buffy left the room, Faith jumped up whirled to face the vampire, and smacked him upside his head.

“What the fuck is up with you man, I know she treated you like shit Spike, but even I could see there was something not right with B. What, you couldn’t cut her some slack to at least find out why she’s acting like bizarro Buffy?”

“Oi Hellcat, get off your high horse,” he shot indignantly. “You were right happy to go along with our little snuggle fest a moment ago. What’s got your knickers in a twist? S’not like she’s ever treated you like a long lost sister. Well, least ways, she never stabbed me” he muttered sullenly, rubbing his abused head.

At her pointed look he rolled his eyes. “Staking is not the same” he replied, with as much dignity as was possible, seeing that he was half-naked

“Fuck man, bitch much? Could you be more whiney?” Faith gave him a half-fond half-exasperated smile before sitting next to him again.

“I’m serious Blondie; she is not that good an actress. There is something majorly suss going on here”. She chewed on her lower lip, giving him a thoughtful glance she met his sulky gaze.

“C’mon Spike you gotta know better than anyone that B is the queen of cold, if she really knew about you being back, what was up with the spaz she just pulled? If anything, she might have punched me for poaching, maybe even dissed you for daring to move on without her permission,” she raised a sculpted brow. “But I can’t see her going all weepy just cos an ex lover and sometimes enemy look like they’re kickin it… Can you?”

Spike scowled and shook his head before meeting the slayers eyes.

“S’pose not… maybe” he offered sullenly. “Fuck luv, who knows how her head works these days?” he offered with a sigh.

Rubbing his face, frustrated and strangely weary he stared off into space.

“Thought once upon a time I knew her better than myself, you can see how well that worked out.”

His expression was distant and more than a bit pained. “There was a time when Bloody Buffy Summers was the moon to my night, and I was more sure of her than my own existence.” His jaw flexed with the effort of suppressing his emotions, as his eyes swung back to bore into Faiths. “Times change pet, an so do people” he added bitterly.

“The Buffy I thought I knew would never have let someone else die to protect the life of her lover. That Buffy would never have fallen for a git like the immortal, or blown off her calling the way she has.
The woman I loved was loyal an brave, and cared about the world, she wouldn’t stick her sister in some far off bloody school, jus’ so she could be free. So, you tell me, Pet? Cos, I’m way past knowing. Sides,” he added, “does it really matter? She’ll mos likely be gone soon, probly by tomorrow at the latest.”



Faiths heart ached with understanding and sympathy. Spike and she were more alike than she cared to admit, both of them longing for love and both of them broken.

Over the last two days, they had become closer than she ever thought it was possible for two people to be, not without becoming lovers.

When she had turned up for this fight, she had been mad at the world and herself. Aching over the recent betrayal of her own lover, she had gone into the battle with no expectations of surviving.

When she and Spike’s eyes had locked in the first rush of battle lust, she had seen her own feelings reflected back at her. He may have wanted to believe he was over the pain of loving Buffy, but he was no more over it, than Faith was over Robin’s betrayal.

Something had clicked between them then, each of them recognizing the others need in a way that bordered on the mystical.

They had fought like a well-oiled machine and when the Dragon had nearly given Faith her death wish, it was the vampire that had pulled her to safety in the nick of time.

And when Spike fell to the ground after taking an arrow in the thigh, it was Faith that had recognized the fletching, and acted accordingly. Anyone else, apart from the original Scoobies, would not have realized the potential death carried in the poison coating the tip. In addition, Faith was undoubtedly the only one willing to furnish the cure.
Slayers blood being the only known antidote.


She had dragged him into shelter behind a dumpster, and then because she didn’t want to risk the delicate tendons in her wrists, not when she needed her hands for the fight, she had forced him into Gameface and made him drink from her neck.

It had taken insults, and a fair amount of alluding to his own death wish. Not to mention the old, ‘go on then, take the cowards way out’ speech before he had given in and bitten her, but eventually he had.


Though there had been nothing romantic about it, God it had hurt…a lot. The moment she had let him sink his fangs into her throat she had felt a connection to him like she’d never had with anyone else. Since then they had hardly left each other’s side, preferring to stick close to each other, if only to stave off the outside world.


No she and Spike weren’t lovers… at least not yet. Nevertheless, they both recognized the potential was there. So far, neither of them had acted on it, it hadn’t even been hinted at, though Faith was sure that Willow and most of the others assumed that they had already done the deed.

And it wasn’t like she would have said no, she wasn’t blind, Spike was a hottie and she just knew from looking at him that he knew his way around a bedroom.
She was also strangely sure that if she did sleep with him it would probably be for keeps.
And that scared the crap out of her.

They already had more of a bond than she’d shared with anyone in her life, if they took the next step she knew that both of their hearts wouldn’t be far behind.

She and Spike, at heart, wanted the same thing, someone that would love them and fight by their side. They both secretly craved someone that could love as deeply as they themselves loved.


She had taken a chance with Robin, given into his request that she stick around so he could show her that not all men were alike. And just when she had started to believe, just as she thought he might be the one. She’d come back early from slaying and caught him in bed with another slayer.


Spike though, with him she knew she didn’t need to worry. Yeah he had the whole slayer obsession thing going on, apparently just like Robin, but unlike Robin, she reflected bitchily, Spike was not a cheating bastard, and he had already proved that, in his past relationships. Hell, the last girl he’d loved, he’d died for.

She wasn’t being conceited in thinking that if she and Spike did kick it, it wouldn’t be long until he was solely hers. Unlike Buffy, she wouldn’t have any trouble admitting what she felt, or that he was hers; she already felt fiercely protective of him.

After the last two days crying on each other’s shoulder, she really didn’t understand how Buffy had not fallen for him. She hadn’t even slept with him yet, and already she was half way there.

Studying his tired features, and the wearied acceptance in his eyes, she came to the conclusion that this man would be very easy to love, and if he loved her back she would feel like the luckiest girl in the world.


Her thoughts had taken only moments, and admittedly, she’d gotten a little side tracked, but something he’d said earlier was niggling at her. Something he’d said about Buffy letting someone die to protect a lover?

“Spike” she ventured, pulling him back from his own pain filled thoughts.
“Before when you said that thing about Buffy letting someone die to protect someone else, what did you mean?”

She watched his eyes darken with pain, and for a moment she wished she could take the question back.


He met her eyes, not sure if he could put into words the last and greatest of Buffy’s betrayals. He had never shared his suspicions with anyone, to do so would be admitting that the last of his illusions were gone. Moreover, it would mean giving up his last much faded hope.

The slayer before him, she had opened up to him in a way that no one in his life ever had. The closest he’d come in the past, was those last few nights on the Hellmouth with Buffy.
But then, if he was right in what he was thinking, those nights had been nothing more than a lie. Just like her last words to him in the Hellmouth.

When he looked into Faith’s eyes he saw so much potential, he saw a future where he was loved like he’d always dreamed he’d be. He saw a woman that could match him in every way, off the field of battle, and on. He saw someone who would accept everything he had to offer, and never take it for granted. In her eyes, he had recognized a kindred spirit.

When she’d forced him to drink to save his life she had opened herself to him in ways that not even she realized. He had seen her heart, and it had awed and frightened him, mostly, because it was like looking in a mirror.

They, both of them, had their demons, and both of them fought every day to control them.

He had seen her past as he drank her blood, and it had broken his poets’ heart that she had endured so much human cruelty, when all she had ever wanted was love.

With her gift, part of Faith had become his and always would be, but until he was able to banish the last of what he felt for the other slayer, Spike knew that he could not let himself take what he realized Faith would be more than willing to give.

He knew what it was like to be second best, and he would never do that to someone he cared about, he’d rather be alone.


Looking back up at her patient face he made a decision. If he voiced this, his last true fear, then maybe the words themselves would give him the strength to be able to see Buffy… without his traitorous heart yearning to be laid at her feet.

If he finally accepted it as true, then surely it would kill that last stubborn bit of love that was still in his heart. Then he could finally move on.

Faith sat and waited patiently, knowing instinctively that what he was about to tell her was going to be hard on him.


“Was talking bout Angel, pet. That jewel the slayer gave me, the Liz Taylor special…
was supposed to be worn by the poof. He even offered, but the slayer sent him away. Gave him some bollocks about bein the second front, in case we failed or some such rubbish.” He snorted with self-derision before continuing.


“But ya see Hellcat, I’ve done me some thinking since my little trip to Europe and I recon it’s time I faced the truth.”


He looked sad but resolute as he said the words and it made Faith once again wish she had never asked.


“She gave it to me an told me it was for a champion, that I was her champion. But I think… no, not think… I know the real reason was cos she knew that whoever wore it wouldn’t exactly be around afterwards.” He sighed.


“Oh don get me wrong” he offered at her horrified look “I don’t think she went about it quiet the way it sounds, yeah pet? M’ sure she never made the choice…not consciously. It’s jus…well, she did choose. She chose me to wear it instead of the love of her life, and that was that. He went back to LA and I died…well sort of.” He added with a wry twist of his mouth.


Looking away from her shocked face he took a deep unneeded breath and told her the rest.


“Y’know, I could understand her choosing the poof. Wouldn’t have even minded all that much, scept next thing I know she’s running all over soddin Europe with that bloody Immortal wanker, and din’t even give Peaches the time of day when we lobbed at her flat.
Gets that Andrew git to tell us that she’s moving on, an we should too. S’ok for me, I knew I never really had a chance. But Peaches, he was supposed to be her one and all.”


He scowled at the words. The thought of the two of them together, even after everything, still had the power to enrage his demon.


“Made what she had me do in the Hellmouth seem…I dunno… trivial. Like I was nothing more than disposable.” He laughed. “But Pet, this is how pathetic I am.” He looked back up and met her eyes. “The bit I really can’t forgive her for isn’t the fiery death, or the flip off in Rome. It’s her bloody last words in the Hellmouth. The ones at the time I thought were just her being kind.”


“Kind my arse” he muttered “She knows I’m bloody gonna die, so at the last possible moment she holds my bleeding hand and tells me she loves me.” He snorted before turning back to face Faith.


“Bloody good thing I didn’t believe her I recon. And I’m right glad in hindsight that I told her so. Has to be the cruellest thing she could a possibly said. Like waving a bloody steak under a dying dogs nose, letting him see what he can’t be around to have, let alone enjoy.”
His eyes dropped, hiding the pain he was feeling from her. “So that’s it luv, the last sad tale of William the Bloody. Pretty bloody pathetic… yeah?”


Faith in truth was stunned. Spike’s words had shocked her, but not because of what he thought was the truth in them, but because now she knew without a doubt that something was very rotten in the state of Denmark


There was just no way the Buffy she remembered would tell a man, let alone one who was dying, that she loved him and not mean it.
Besides which, she’d been on that bus as they’d left Sunnydale behind for the last time, and she’d seen the other slayer’s pain.


Buffy and Dawn had huddled together in the back of the bus, and Buffy had spent most of the ride to LA crying. Admittedly, she was very quiet about it, but when one of the girls had made some unthinking comment about Spike glowing like a nightlight, the older slayer had just about ripped her head off.


She’d told the girl in no uncertain terms that she owed her life to the vampire, as did all of them. Then to underline how much she would not put up with hearing anything bad when it came to Spike, she had actually given a surprisingly moving speech about him being the one. Capped off with the admittance that she loved him for the man he’d become despite the odds against it, and she was just sorry that he hadn’t believed her.


Even as Faith was remembering the bus trip it occurred to her that it was weird that until Spike had mentioned Buffy’s last words to him, she had completely forgotten about Buffy’s reaction to his death.


Faith knew she could be pretty self involved at times but she would have thought somewhere in the last day, with all the sharing she and Spike had done, it would have crossed her mind at least once. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that someone had arranged for her to have some slight memory loss? Hmmm I wonder what else I know, that I don’t know I know? Rolling her eyes at her own thoughts, she studied the vampire that was still waiting patiently for her reaction.


The only question left was should she tell him? Was it the right thing to do, to give him hope when there might in fact be none? After all, it was a year since the Hellmouth, and a lot had changed in that time. Buffy had changed. Spike was right in that. At least he was right if what she thought she knew was true. Then again, she’d just remembered knowing stuff that she’d had no idea she knew until barely two minutes ago. God, try saying that ten times really fast. She smirked at her own thoughts before sobering at the look on the vampire’s face.


Shit Faith, just decide already, the guy is looking mighty antsy.


Ok, so if she told him? She risked loosing what was probably her best, if not last, chance of being loved the way she’d always wanted. On the other hand, if she didn’t, could she live with the decision?


Could she do it knowing that there was a possibility, no matter how thin, that Buffy still loved him? That by not saying anything she had cheated them both to get his love.


God, why was being good so fucking hard? What had happened to the old Faith motto?
Want, take, have.


She sighed. Decision made, she reached up and cupped Spike’s face in her hands.
Drawing him close, she placed a gentle kiss on his mouth before pulling back and sighing again, this time with regret. At his puzzled look, she released his face in favor of his hands. I don’t believe I’m doing this…but here goes.


“Spike, I think you and I need to have a little talk. Go grab yourself some blood from the kitchen and get your ass back up here ASAP. There’s some stuff you need to know and I need a few minutes to sort shit out in my head so I don’t fuck it up. Hell, grab me something while you’re down there, cos I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long night.”



Dawn had watched Buffy’s confrontation with Kennedy with concern. And when Buffy had turned and headed into the hotel with only the briefest of glances in her direction she’d been more than a little pissed.


Nevertheless, when Buffy had come running out of the Hyperion bawling her eyes out and practically knocking her to the ground, Dawn’s anger had immediately shifted elsewhere.


What the frick had they said to her to cause this type of meltdown?
She hadn’t been inside more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes at the most. Who the hell could do this much damage in so short amount of time?


“Buffy, what happened? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” When she failed to get a coherent response Dawn decided the best thing to do was to wait her sister out.
Pulling her sister down with her, she sat on the steps and rocked her until eventually, like she’d known they would, Buffy’s harsh sobs started to taper off.


Trying again to get her sister to tell her what had happened, she smoothed and stroked the older girl’s hair. “C’mon sis it can’t be as bad as you think. Did Willow or Faith say something mean? Cos I could so totally go to town on their asses. Ooh… there could be hair pulling.”


When the hair pulling line failed to get even a smile out of the older girl, Dawn frowned. It wasn’t like Buffy to get this emotional. The last time she’d seen her sister cry like this was after Spike had died.


Dawn teared up at the vivid memory. Worried that her own tears might upset her sister even more, she determinedly pushed thoughts of Spike to the back of her mind.
The last thing she needed to do was to get all maudlin herself. It was just all the crying had reminded her of the Hellmouth’s collapse and the horrible bus ride to LA after.


“Buffy I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong. C’mon, at least let me know who I’ve gotta kill,” she joked, attempting once again to get her sister to break her silence.


Bloodshot eyes met hers and a trembling lip wobbled even more precariously, threatening to unleash another wave of sobs. Instead of just the expected tears, Dawn got the shock of her life when her sister answered her question.


“Spike” Buffy hiccuped, before promptly bursting back into the threatened tears.

It had taken Dawn a good half-hour or so, but eventually she had gotten her sister calmed down enough to explain. Not that there was a great deal to tell.


Dawn’s brain seemed to be stuck on repeat. The words “Spike’s alive” kept turning in her head.

Not even the shocking fact that he seemed to be sleeping with Faith was enough to get her past the first rush of joy at her sister’s words.

Of course that only lasted about as long as it took for Buffy to start crying again, then she moved right on to pissed.


“That big undead jerk! Just you wait till I see him Buffy…He is so dead… again,” Dawn fumed, anger driving her to her feet..

“And as for super skank? Don’t you worry Sis, Willow taught me some stuff the summer you were gone. You just say the word and that vampire stealing ho is history,” she offered, “there’s this really neat spell I’ve been itching to try for a while.”

Eyes glittering with malicious intent, she turned to her sister and asked slyly. “So, I wonder how Spike feels about slime and antlers. Or maybe scales and mucus would be more Faith’s thing.”


Buffy goggled at her little sister. Who knew Dawnie could be so scary.

Tears forgotten, the slayer watched as her sister started to pace and mutter in a very familiar manner.
Okay, this could get ugly, she thought as she watched Dawn stop to root around in her backpack, obviously searching for something.


Dawn’s whole demeanor was one of righteous anger. Buffy had never seen the girl so mad, and to be honest it worried her.


She knew that only part of what Dawn was feeling was anger on her own behalf. The other part was pure hurt that Spike hadn’t told them he was back. And if Dawn rushed off and did or said something that couldn’t be fixed, Buffy would never forgive herself.

It was all her fault Spike hadn’t contacted them. If she had just told him a little sooner, he wouldn’t have died believing that she didn’t love him. Moreover, if she hadn’t been such a grade A bitch, it would be her bed he was in now, not Faith’s.

It wasn’t his fault that he’d fallen out of love with her. She’d told him get over it enough times… who was she to hold it against him if he finally took her at her word?


Poor Dawnie, she misses Spike nearly as much as I do.

Well, she might not be able to fix things between herself and Spike, but she was damn sure she could arrange it so her sister at least got to have him in her life.


“Dawn hold up for a minute on the vengeance,” she requested lightly. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought but I feel like you’re channeling Anya, and it’s kinda making me dizzy.”

“Look… I think you and I need to get a couple of things straight before you go charging off,” reaching up she pulled her sister down to sit beside her on the step.

“As much as I appreciate the thought of Faith as a repulsive demon - and just so you know, the scales would have definitely been my first choice - I think you maybe need to stop and think about why you’re really mad.” At Dawn’s mutinous look the slayer sighed heavily.

“Dawnie, it’s not either of their faults that I pushed him away so often that he didn’t feel he’d be welcome back in our lives. Ok, so there was a lot Spike said up there that I don’t understand, but now I’ve had myself a good cry I’m gonna go find Willow and try to make sense of things, before I even attempt to talk to him again.”


Dawn scowled.


“I’m not saying you can’t go talk to him,” she added soothingly. “I’m just letting you know that there’s a lot going on here that we don’t know. So if you do see him, remember he loves you and it’s not his fault that he stayed away, it’s mine. You might also wanna remember,” she offered wryly “that you did threaten to set him on fire that one time. Not exactly the recipe for a welcome back cake. Hmm?”

Smiling coaxingly she reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her sisters’ ear.


“Please Dawn,” she begged her smile fading at her sisters continued glare. “He had no way of knowing that either of us missed him, so promise me you’ll cut him some slack, at least until after I’ve spoken to Willow. And if you do talk to him,” she added thoughtfully her expression turning speculative, “see if you can dig up the dirt on some guy called the Immortal. I don’t know who this looser is but I get the impression that finding out is of the urgent, since two of the three people I’ve seen today seem to be under the impression that I’m dating him.”


“They what?” Dawn interrupted, a confused frown settling on her features.


Buffy shrugged “Beats me Dawnie, apparently according to Kennedy, I am currently supposed to be living the high life in of all places, Rome.” Looking thoughtful Buffy went over the other slayer’s earlier words in her head.

“Whoever this guy is Dawn, I got the impression he’s not exactly human, and with a name like the Immortal it makes me wonder just what his involvement is in all this.”


“Well, you telling me that only makes what I was thinking earlier make even more sense,” said Dawn. Scowling darkly at the Hyperion, Dawn mused aloud. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to stop us talking to anyone from Sunnydale, and now it seems they may have taken it even further.”


“What are you talking about Dawn? What do Giles and the others have to do with Spike and Kennedy thinking I was in Rome?” Buffy asked, her expression confused. “And what do you mean by further?”


Dawn turned back to look at her sister. Watching her carefully now that she knew what to look for, she asked “Who’s the last person you spoke to from the gang and how long ago?”

She watched her sister’s brow wrinkle, her expression becoming curiously blank before clearing. “Well the last time it was Andrew, and that was a couple of days ago…” She trailed off at her sister’s pointed stare.

“What’s with the look? You know Andrew is Giles right hand man. I always speak to him if Giles is unavailable.”

When Dawn just continued to stare, Buffy found herself feeling weirdly defensive.

“C’mon Dawnie I know you don’t like him all that much but he is trying and Giles seems to trust him…What?” At her sister’s openly skeptical look Buffy started to get annoyed.
“All right smart ass; please continue with the Sherlock impersonation. You obviously think you know something I don’t, so let’s hear it.”


Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister’s sarcasm. “All right then,” she started. “Besides Andrew, name the Scooby you spoke to last, and when?” Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for her sister to work it out for herself.


Buffy looked flustered for a moment before answering.

“Ok. Sure I can do that … let me think. Hmm…” she mused. “I remember Andrew reminding me that Willow still wanted mom’s recipe for those pecan cookies she liked, and he said she said to tell me that she’d forgotten to remind me when I spoke to her on Thursday. And since its Tuesday today-- that would make it less than a week since I spoke to her and… Oh crap!”

Her eyes widened with sudden understanding. “It’s a spell isn’t it? I didn’t speak to Willow did I? Of course I didn’t speak to Will," she muttered self depreciatingly. “At least not about any recipe for pecan cookies…"

"Cos Willow’s allergic to pecans.” they both finished together, Buffy rolling her eyes at her own cluelessness.

“But I don’t understand,” complained Buffy her voice uncertain. “I remember Andrew reminding me about it, and while I was speaking to him I remembered the conversation with Wills being crystal clear… but I can’t have, can I? God that is so confusing,” she huffed.

“What the hell is going on Dawnie? Why didn’t I remember that Willow wouldn’t have asked for that recipe in the first place? Did I even speak to her at all?” she demanded, her expression annoyed.


Dawn sighed. “No Buff, I don’t think you did. In fact I don’t think either of us has spoken to anyone other than Andrew for a very long time. And,” she offered decisively, “if it hadn’t been for the news report, I don’t think we would have.”

Searching her sisters’ face for understanding Dawn continued.

“You see, I did some thinking on the way over here and I got suspicious when I asked you on the plane who you’d spoken to lately. Remember? You told me exactly what you just told me… word for word.” She shot her sister her best Duh! look

“I didn’t tell you at the time,” offered Dawn apologetically, “Cos I was so busy going over my own memories of the conversations I haven’t actually had, that I missed the pecan thing too. And I probably would have continued to miss it,” she admitted her expression rueful, “if the whole LA battle thing hadn’t kept me so focused.”

Frowning at her own thoughts she continued to explain.

“You see it just didn’t add up, spell or no spell there is no way Giles and the others wouldn’t have contacted us. Whoever did the spell designed it so our minds sort of skated over anything that didn’t make sense but the spell had us both believing everything was good with them, so again why the no contact?”

She shrugged “Hence the focus! And before you ask,” she added. “I have no idea why anyone would do this, but I think we both know who does.”


“Andrew” they chorused. Each of them, had they known it, wearing frighteningly familiar scowls. In that moment they looked more like sisters than ever before.


“So Buffy, what ya gonna do to him? And can I at least watch?” asked Dawn, her malicious expression from earlier, back with a vengeance.


Buffy looked thoughtful before answering. “First off Dawnie, you and I are gonna do what Riley would have called recon. You’re going to do what you do best. Wheedle info out of Spike. And I’m going to get the skinny from Will, she stated flatly.

Thinly veiled suspicion coated her tone as she stared over Dawns shoulder at the Hyperion.

“I find it less than likely that Andrew Wells managed to pull this one off on his own, and if it’s not Willow? then I wanna know who helped him with the mojo. Cos there is no way he got past our resident witch without some sort of help.”


“And if it is Willow? murmured Dawn with a worried frown. ”


Buffy looked grim as she met her sister’s eyes.

“If she’s messed with my mind again Dawn, regardless of her reasons…good or bad, then she is going to be in for a world of hurt,” she promised, her expression to Dawns eyes, suddenly disturbingly blank.

“And, if I find out she had anything to do with my not knowing about Spike being back, or even if she just kept the knowledge from me?... Well let’s just say Willow has never really seen my true potential for violence,” she growled, her eyes meeting Dawns. “Last time Tara’s death held me back. This time if she’s done this thing…”


Buffy did not need to complete the sentence. Dawn got the idea.


She shivered remembering black-eyed Willow, though studying her sister’s coldly determined features, Dawn found herself hoping for Willow’s sake that their suspicions were wrong.

Dawn rubbed her eyes. She was so tired she was starting to feel punchy.

She had waited while her sister used her cell, verifying which hospital it was that the wounded had been taken to. Then after another lecture from her about the need to be careful, Buffy had reluctantly left to speak to Willow and Dawn had gone looking for Spike.


She peered around the gloomy interior of the old hotel. So far she’d seen no one to be careful of. The place seemed to be deserted.

Making her way up the staircase, she couldn’t help but shiver involuntarily. This place is way more creepy than I remembered.


She had just reached the top of the stairs and started down the hall when she heard a door open and the sound of approaching voices.

Ducking back around the corner, she flattened herself against the wall on the far side of a dusty potted plant. Praying that whoever was coming would be too involved in their conversation to notice her, she did her best to calm her racing heart.

Watching from her partially concealed position behind the tall palm, she held her breath as Angel, closely followed by Andrew, walked right past her and down the stairs.
Dawn tensed as halfway down Angel paused in his movement and conversation.
Please don’t turn around… please don’t turn around… please don’t turn around.

She let out a breathless sigh of relief as Andrew, with his usual grace and cluelessness, immediately ran into him, nearly knocking them both over. If Angel had sensed anything it was overlooked in his obvious hurry to extract himself from Andrew’s groping apology.


Dawn had to suppress a snigger at the vampire’s less than subtle attempt to evade Andrew’s busy hands.

Looks like Buffy isn’t the only one with a yen for the undead,she thought, clamping a hand over her mouth.

Moments later the spectacle of the visibly annoyed vampire and a still a clueless Andrew exited the lobby, disappearing into one of the many shadowy doorways of the old hotel.

Dawn removed the hand from over her mouth and sucked in a deep breath.

Whew, that was way too close for comfort. I am so not ready for the Andrew slayage just yet. At least now that I know the little rat is in LA, it simples things up. No unnecessary Andrew trackage. Big check in the bonus column.


Dawn slid out from behind the palm. Keeping a wary eye on the stairs and lobby, she backed carefully towards the hallway.

She was so busy with her thoughts and her need for stealth, that when she backed up straight into the hard male body that was moving towards her, her first reaction was motivated by years of Sunnydale living.

She turned with a shriek, swung, and managed to hit her unknown assailant directly in the nose.


“Bloody Hell! What is it with you Summers’ women and the nose?” Spike snarled, fingers curled protectively over the oft-damaged part.


“Spike!” Dawn squeaked, as the vampire stood there glowering at her through watery eyes.


“Lo’ Bit, long time no see. Anything else you planning to take a shot at?” he rumbled.
“I don’t see no matches so I’m thinking the fiery death thing is something you’re saving for later, yeah?” Quirking an eyebrow, his mouth twisted into the sarcastic knowing grin Dawn remembered so well.

The next thing Spike knew he had his arms full of one sobbing, babbling girl that didn’t look in the least bit mad at him. Course I could be wrong, he reflected wryly, as moments and a well placed kick later he was bent over rubbing his abused shin.

When she took another swing at him he decided that enough was enough.

Trying to immobilize her long enough to avoid any more unexpected attacks, and maybe get to the bottom of why both of the Summers girls were in LA, he was distracted by the sudden appearance of Faith.


“Hey Blondie you all right?” she asked in amusement as she took in the sight of the very flustered vampire and the crying ex key. “Whoa… What the fuck?” she gasped, stumbling back as Dawn lunged.


Spike’s own timely leap and subsequent waist hold on the furious Dawn was the only thing preventing her from experiencing the wrath of Dawn for herself.

As Spike wrapped both his arms around her, clamping hers to her side, Dawn gave in to her anger and misery. Flopping loosely in his arms she allowed him to pull her close to his chest as she burst back into fresh tears.

Shooting a confused Faith a look over the younger girl’s head, he indicated with a nod that she should leave them alone. Then without loosening his grip he carried Dawn to the closest room. Sitting down, he gently cradled her on his lap.


She sobbed for a few minutes more and Spike just let her be, knowing from experience that she needed to get it all out before she would be able to talk.

His mind was in a whirl. First Buffy turning up and acting like she’s seen a ghost and now his nibblet was crying like her heart was breaking.

What the soddin hell is going on? Dawn is supposed to be in boarding school, and Buffy should be in Rome living her bloody normal life. What the hell are the two of them doing here in LA?

Spike was one very confused vampire. He was buggered if he knew what the hell was going on, but he bloody well intended to find out.

Nothing that had happened in the last couple of hours made any sense.

After his and Faith’s little talk he’d been confused enough, but bumping into Dawn while he’d been lost in thought had totally thrown him. She was the last person he’d expected to see.

And the fact that he and Faith had just been talking about both of the Summers girls right before he’d slammed into the youngest…well it was downright scary.

Just before it happened he’d been remembering the summer Buffy had been dead, and the way his bit had depended on him. After what Faith had told him, he had been feeling guilty over the fact that angry with him or not, the right thing to do would have been to let her know he was alive and go from there.

He might have doubted Buffy’s feelings for him, but he’d never doubted Dawn’s. Not even after the threat to set him on fire. He knew his girl. She was just protecting her sister, and yeah he admitted she was right to be browned off.

But his nib could never stay mad for long.

Just before the end he’d noticed a subtle softening in her attitude towards him, and he’d known with time she would eventually forgive him and let him back in to her life. Of course, time had run out before they got the chance to mend their fences, but he was still sure, given that time, it would have happened.

So why then when he found out that Buffy had shipped her off, hadn’t he thought to contact her?

Could what Faith suspected be true?

Was someone messing with all of them? Was there some sort of mojo preventing him from asking the obvious questions?

Come to think about it, Buffy could be a bitch at times but there was no way he could see her bootin’ kid sis out of her life for some wanker she barely knew. She was capable of a lot of shit, but when it came to prioritizing, Dawn was always first on the list.

Ok, so he had to admit it, there was something funny going on.


Right then, time for a chat. Let’s just see what bite size has to say and then I can go kill whoever’s been fuckin with us all.


“Hey Bit, you with me?”

He waited patiently as Dawn sniffled into his shirt a couple of times before raising tear reddened eyes to meet his.

Tucking a strand of long hair behind her ear, he smiled at the familiar gesture, one he had done often in the months that Buffy was gone.

“So Nibblet, wanna tell me what all the hoo-ha from before was about?”

He watched as she bit her lip nervously, and waited for her to speak.

Dawn, for her part, was both embarrassed about her tears and mad with herself for acting like a child. She had been determined to act like the young woman she’d become, not a big old weepy baby. It was just the whole unexpectedness of the way they’d bumped into each other. It was one thing to hear he was back, but to actually see him in the flesh without warning? Well it had seriously messed up her resolve to be mature about the whole situation.

And since it was already messed up…

“You’re a jerk…and …and… a total asshole. You made my sister cry… and…I… I hate you.”


When Spike failed to react apart from a rather silly grin, she reflected wryly that the words might have had a little more impact if she hadn’t still been curled up on his lap like a needy kitten.

Great. How was she supposed to stay angry with him when he was looking at her like that? Stupid Vampire.

“Fine!” she sniffed “I’m still not forgiving you. First you go off and get resurrected without telling us,” she glared, “then nearly get all dead again fighting some lame ass fight with Angel, and then we come all this way to find you busy boinking Faith.”


Poking him in the chest to underline her displeasure, Dawn did her best to stay mad at him, which was hard when he was now obviously trying his best not to laugh at her.


“You have some major sucking up to do, mister. I thought…we thought that you were dead. We mourned you, and you were here in LA hanging with Angel. And that reminds me, how the hell long have you been back for anyway?”


As his expression changed from one of amusement to sorrow, Dawn scrambled off his lap and turned to face him fists clenched by her side. Her confusion rose as Spike deliberately ducked his head to avoid her eyes.


“Why would you do that to Buffy? Why hurt her like that Spike?” she asked plaintively.

Watching his face, she waited for him to acknowledge the pain in her voice. She was shocked when he finally looked at her. Instead of the apology she expected to see she saw only anger.


Eyes glittering gold with his barely suppressed emotions, Spike took in the tear stained face of the girl he had once vowed to protect until the end of the world.


Buffy” he spat bitterly “How could I hurt Buffy? Ha! That’s bloody rich. Your buggaring sister bout ripped my heart out and you ask me how I could do that to her?
Bloody bitch sent me into the hellmouth to die and when she finds out I’m back she’s too busy with her new man to even break my bloody heart in person.”


Scowling, he continued. “I knew she’d never love me. Fuck Dawn, how could she after what I did?” eyes melting back to blue he flinched with the memory.
“An I was ok with that. S’ what I deserved. But what she did Dawn”, his jaw flexed as he fought the tears that he could feel welling up, “I didn’t think she was that cold.” he admitted, his voice rough with pain.

“I bloody believed in her. I believed in her and trusted her, warrior for the powers that she was. God!” he shook his head. “I was so fuckin’ stupid. I thought that she at least cared about me. If not as a friend, least as a fellow warrior… that maybe the soul had let her see that I could be something more than just a monster. Ha.”
Laughing bitterly, he deliberately locked gazes with her.
“Too right, she saw something. She saw a way out, another use for me, an’ the bloody soul.”


Unable to look at her, he snarled before turning away from the suddenly white-faced Dawn.

Taking a harsh unneeded breath, he recounted, through gritted teeth, what he believed to be the final betrayal by the woman he loved.

“She gave me the bloody amulet to wear Dawn. She knew whoever wore it was gonna die, so she sent her bloody soul mate back to LA and had me wear it instead. She fucking used me and I let her. Back there on the Hellmouth… I died for her an’ she didn’t…”


“NO Spike that’s not true!” she cried angrily, cutting him off before he could finish his accusation.

“Buffy loves you… She wouldn’t do that… You didn’t see her” defended Dawn as she met his hard gaze. “She was so proud of you and what you’d done… and we…we… both of us, we mis…missed you.”

She sobbed as the memory of Buffy’s anger and pain washed over her. “She told us all… all of us, all the Scoobies and the slayers. Hell, you can ask Robin Wood if you don’t believe me. He was one of the ones that survived. He was on the fucking bus with us.”

She reached forward, unmindful of her language or the danger she might be courting, and grabbed his arm, wrenching the vampire around to face her.

“Fuck you, Spike. You broke her heart that day. She’s barely been living since Sunnydale and you’re fucking here with that two faced bit…”


“Enough!” he roared. Jaw clenched, he resisted the urge to shake her within an inch of her life.

“I don’t bloody believe you’re telling me this shit Dawn. She never bloody loved me! " he snarled.

"Not for a single moment in the whole time I stood by that ungrateful bint’s side did she once give me even a fraction of what she gave to the poof or captain cardboard. She used me for sex and she used me for muscle, and after I got the soul she used me to prop up her fuckin ego”.

He glared at the speechless girl in front of him, his hurt bleeding through the anger.

“She gave Robin Wood more fuckin bloody care than she ever gave me. She took everything I bloody had an’ then the bitch ripped my heart out and watched me die”.

He took a deep unneeded breath. “So don’t you try telling me she feels anythin’ resembling love? The Slayer doesn’t have it in her…not for this vamp,” he finished bitterly.

Turning away from her he let out another roar, this time of sorrow and frustration.

Punching the wall viciously he finally let the tears come as the visibly frightened girl stumbled backwards to sink heavily onto the room’s dusty single bed.


“No… No it’s not true… she isn’t like that,” mumbled the distraught teen. “I was there… I’ve been there… every day for the past year. You don’t know what it’s been like for her… she…”


“Arrgh. She what then?” he yelled, his rage spiraling out of control. “What the fuck do you know? You’re a bloody child Dawn.” He advanced on her, temper barely in check, even as the girl on the bed rose to meet him.


“I know my sister!” she yelled back as she reached forward to shove him out of the way. “You’re just more stupid than I thought you were if you think that she could be the way she was towards you and not love you”.


Spike reacted instinctively, grabbing both of her wrists in an iron grip as a furious Dawn switched from trying to shove him to attempting to pummel him with her now clenched fists.


“Can’t you see?” she sobbed, her anger softening at the look of pain in his blue eyes.
“She chose you over all of us… she took your chip out when Giles practically told her not too. And she came for you when the First had you, even after everyone said you were probably dead or working with it.”

Her eyes met his beseechingly, willing him to believe what she knew was the truth.

“She risked getting killed by a Turok Hahn just to get you back Spike, and when she did… she believed in you when nobody else even wanted you around, much less trusted you… For God sake she even told Robin that she would let you kill him if he ever tried to hurt you again, and she completely cut Giles out of her life after what he tried to do”.

Dropping her head to his chest, her voice broke with her next words.

Words so soft, that he was barely able to make them out.

“You tried to…to r…rape h…her… and you left us… an… and …she forgave you”.

Looking up at him with tears still falling she whispered shakily.


“But the moment you came back… she stopped seeing anything but you… Why do you think I agreed to kick her out of her own house?”

She looked away trying not to cry again as she admitted what she would never have dared to tell Buffy or anyone else.

“She stopped seeing me Spike…and I hated her for it”.


Spike’s anger fled at the girl’s obvious misery. All he could do was pull her in close and do what he did best when his little bit was hurting.

“Oh pet, S’not true,” he offered, rocking her as she launched into fresh tears.

“S ‘ok, shh. Course Buffy saw you. You’re just… upset… yeah? We were all outta sorts back then, luv. Had the bloody First and the bringers messing with all our heads. Who wouldn’ta been a lil' distracted. The slayer jus' had a lot on her mind, what with the world endin' an all.”

Hugging her close he attempted to reassure her as she continued to sob.

Shh, Don’t cry Dawnie. Big sis was just doing her job. You know how she gets… s’ a little too focused sometimes an’ forgets to be Buffy, but you gotta know there’s no way the slayer was ignoring you kitten, least not for the likes of me”.

He smoothed her hair and tilted her chin up to look into her face.

“Buffy loves you more n anything Nib, S’no way anybody could be more important to her than you…how could you even think…”

He trailed off, words deserting him as the girl in his arms looked up at him with a world-weariness he wasn’t accustomed to seeing on his nibblet’s face.

Bollocks, what the bloody hell do I say? Girl’s daft if she thinks I had anything to do with her sister’s attitude. Though could be she’s got a point about the Buffy not seein’ her thing. Slayer was right odd at times.


He studied her expression, his thoughts going back to those last few months he’d spent living in the slayers basement.

Maybe Dawn’s right… maybe Buffy didn’t pay her much attention, but we were at bloody war, surely Dawn should understand that big sis had lots more on her mind than being a mum. Fuckin house full o potentials… S’ no wonder what with everyone expectin’ her to protect them that Dawn got overlooked now an again. Poor niblet.


He stroked her tears from her cheeks and tried to find the right words. Marshalling his thoughts he opened his mouth to speak but before he had the chance, someone else beat him to it.



“She’s right”.


Two sets of startled blue eyes shot to the doorway to the figure that had, up until then, gone unobserved. With varying degrees of shock, both of them met the carefully blank gaze of the Slayer.

Earlier…




Buffy was frustrated; she had searched for Willow without luck. She had seen a number of the girls she remembered from London and even bumped into a former potential from Sunnydale whose name she could not remember.

None of them seemed to know where Willow was.


Buffy hated hospitals at the best of times, but being here amongst all the injured girls was a little too close to the memories of her last battle, and the aching loss she’d felt as she waited in that other hospital a year ago.

As she checked the lobby for the third time, she wondered if Andrew was in LA or if he had stayed behind with Giles.

Contrary to popular belief she was not stupid, she knew that Dawn was right about the memory tampering. She was even willing to believe that someone had set it up to look like she was not where she actually was. What she didn’t want to examine too closely was Spike’s reaction to her presence. He had seemed all too willing to believe that she was with someone else, and it hadn’t seemed to bother him.

He had obviously been back for a while, and had not attempted to find her, or if he had, he’d dropped it the moment he’d been told about her supposed romance with the Immortal. And who the Hell calls themselves the Immortal anyhow? As If I’d date a guy that went by a title. She snorted. At least Angel and Spike had actual names.


While looking for Willow, Buffy had done some serious thinking.

When she and Dawn had discussed it earlier, it had seemed only logical that Willow would be behind the magic that had kept them so out of the loop. Nevertheless, after running it through her mind, she kept coming back to Andrew and his obvious involvement.

For one, there was no reason she could think of that would make Willow mess with her that way. No matter how many ways she looked at it, she knew in her heart that Willow had learnt her lesson with the loss of Tara.
Besides which, Willow wouldn’t pick Andrew to do her bidding, and as near as she could tell he was the only real contact she had had with the others for at least six months.

Not even on her worst day would Willow have asked Andrew to help. She barely tolerated the little nerd at the best of times, and when he had followed them to London, her impatience with the former trio member had been more than clear.

Then there was the fact that the whole thing smacked of a level of melodrama and senselessness that was just not Willow’s style.

Ok, Willow had done some really lame stuff in the past, hers and Spike’s engagement being a prime example, but those spells were either mistakes or her backfiring attempts at helping.

Willow knew as well as anyone else how she’d felt when she lost Spike. Just before she’d left London, they had gone to a pub one night, sat, and talked for hours about the people they had lost.

Apart from Dawn, Willow was the one person in the world that had no reason to keep her away from the Scoobie’s.

She had wanted Buffy to stay in London, not move halfway across the world, it didn’t make sense that she would do a spell to make sure that Buffy didn’t have any contact with her.

No, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to her like one of the stupid schemes that the trio had had come up with during their repeatedly lame attempts to get rid of her. And Andrew had as good as admitted that he was the one to come up with some of their more benign plans.


She smacked herself in the forehead. God, maybe she should rethink the whole stupid thing. Of course it wasn’t Willow that had done it. Talk about missing the obvious. Willow was the one that was allergic to pecans; it made no sense that she’d ask for that recipe if it was her that was behind the spell. However, Andrew wouldn’t know that, and he she remembered, had a real fondness for nutty baked goodness.

When I get my hands on that little twerp, I’m so gonna kill him. “Grrrr” growling audibly, she startled a young nurse as she passed her on the way out.

He is so so dead. I can’t believe he thought he’d get away with this. Who the hell does he think he’s messing with.


Buffy spent the cab ride back to the Hyperion entertaining herself with the many and varied ways she was going to kill the watcher wannabe. But not before, she decided, she’d managed to torture the details of his stupid evil plan out of him.

Of course, all of her entertaining thoughts were just a way of diverting her brain from the thing that was really bothering her…Spike and his less than welcoming behavior.

Denial was her friend, and its pal avoidance was currently her best friend. So she’d just concentrate on the whole Andrew pending death thing and think about that thing she wasn’t ready to face, later.


As the cab stopped outside the Hyperion, Buffy was interested to note that the alley that had so recently been sight of a bloody and demon infested battle was now strangely empty. There wasn’t a demon corpse to be seen.

Hmm, looks like Willows here somewhere.
Right, speak to Wills first, kill Andrew later.


Curiously happy that her impending conversation with Spike was going to be delayed even longer, Buffy headed into the Hyperion to look for the witch.


Unbeknownst to Buffy and luckily for Andrew.
He and Willow had left only minutes before the slayers second arrival.

Willow, seeing that Angel was as close to killing a human as the souled vampire could get, took pity on him, and dragged the annoying pain in her ass off to get food.

Not that I care if the little shit gets eaten, she thought with a snigger, I just don’t want to have to deal with vampiric indigestion. Angels, way grumpy enough already.

Keeping her amused thoughts to herself, Willow pasted on her most interested smile, promptly tuning out the Andrew babble as they walked to a nearby diner.



This time when Buffy entered the hotel, she was cautious. Focusing her mind like Giles had taught her she let her slayer senses out. She easily pinpointed the presence of Angel, he, if her memory was correct, was most likely in the kitchen, towards the back of the hotel.

Not sensing anyone else in the rooms on this level she decided she would venture upstairs and see if Willow or Andrew were there.

Of course, the moment she entered the hall at the top of the stairs she immediately sensed Spike.

Ok, no problem, I’ll just take a quick look around and if I happen to bump into him I’ll…
Her thoughts slid to an abrupt halt, the sound of raised voices coming from the room she had just passed, setting off alarm bells.

Sheesh Dawnie, loud much. she thought with annoyance. Way to go little sister, could you piss him off anymore?

Rolling her eyes at her sisters’ obvious love of drama, Buffy sidled up to the doorway.
Careful to keep her presence concealed from its occupants she held her breath as she listened to their argument.


“Fuck you, Spike. You broke her heart that day. She’s barely been living since Sunnydale and you’re fucking here with that two faced bit”…


Buffy’s expression tightened with Dawns accusation, her sisters’ words cutting deep into the avoidance thing she had going.

Spike’s reaction a moment later made her jump, and as what he was saying sank in, she started to shake.

Oh God he really didn’t believe me. He thinks I was lying to him in the Hellmouth.

Buffy found herself stifling tears as his pain and bitterness washed over her.

Spike hated her; it was there in his voice. It wasn’t the anger that convinced her, it was the total absolute certainty she heard in his tone.

Worse, Spike had died believing she’d used him and thrown him away with less care than she showed for one of her stakes. A tool to be used and discarded without thought when it was no longer useful.


The tears did come as she heard Dawn’s defense and Spikes immediate denial.

However, she was sure she felt her heart break at Dawn’s soft admittance; that she could see, what Buffy herself had tried her best to deny to herself and everyone else.

Spike had told her that she was the one, that night in the abandoned house, but it had taken his impending death to make Buffy face the truth of her own feelings.


He had been her one, long before the soul. The only one, in all the ways that mattered, that could truly match her. Dawn had known… she had seen it right from the start.

Now it was too late, he didn’t love her anymore. Her blindness to her own feelings had finally managed to do what no words ever had.

How many times had she kicked and punched him, denied what he said she felt, told him she hated him, only to have him refuse to believe her words or actions.
It was only after the soul that he’d really doubted her. The soul he had gone and gotten for her.

Even those last days in Sunnydale when he had recovered his belief in himself, he had remained distanced from her in a way she hadn’t wanted to confront at the time.

God she’d been so stupid and thoughtless. He’d stayed for her, and loved her from a distance, and she had taken it as her due. She had all but thrown herself at Angel and he’d stood by her anyway. Of course, when she’d told him the truth, down in the Hellmouth, he hadn’t believed her. Why would he.

And now, looking at it from his perspective she couldn’t blame him.
As far as he knew, she was off living life in Italy with some guy she’d met only months after his death. Hell, I would hate me too.

Buffy’s lip trembled. Trying not to sob openly, as the man whom she loved more than life did his best to comfort her sister, she covered her mouth with her hands and slumped back against the wall.

Using words that only underlined her loss, he tried to deny what Buffy knew too late was nothing less than the truth.

Spike had been all she’d seen. The one thing that had given her focus, when all she had wanted to do was crawl into her bed and ignore what her friends and watcher wanted.

Dawn was right, she had loved him, and it had been obvious to every person in the house, except the two that mattered.

And now he had finally faced what he believed to be the truth, and moved on.

Spike, admitting it aloud to Dawn only showed her just how much damage she’d done to the man, who she now realized; she’d most likely lost for good.

Maybe he should be with Faith, she’d probably treat him better that I ever did.

She stood for a moment, hands still over her face, as she tried to picture a world where the man she loved, lived his happily ever after with a woman that wasn’t her.

She imagined them fighting together, and inevitably, with each other, she imagined all his soft looks directed towards the other slayer. She thought about Spike touching Faith, making love to Faith… telling Faith he loved her…

“Grrrr” No fucking way… over my thrice dead body.

Just the thought of Spike saying those words to anyone who wasn’t her, let alone Faith, made her stomach turn. It also had the interesting side affect of pissing off her inner Slayer.

Stupid damn vampire, never believed me all the times I told him I didn’t love him, and when I finally tell him I do… “Ill give him, no you don’t”. she grumbled to herself.
Ok then, time to turn the tables on stalker boy. I’ll just do what he did, I’ll get in his face and keep telling him he loves me... until he admits it.

Nodding decisively she glared at the partially open door.

There is no way I’m gonna give him up that easily. So what if he hates me. With Spike, that pretty much amounts to foreplay. Hell, if he won’t listen, Ill just have to move on to the first base part of things.

She rolled her eyes even as she smirked at her thoughts. Yep, punching some sense into him sounds like a plan.

Ok Buff first step… tell Dawn she was right. Second step convince vampire. Rinse and repeat.

It had taken only seconds for her inner ramble to run its course, and Spike, being in comfort Dawn mode, hadn’t yet sensed her.

Buffy was briefly tempted to stay silent and see what else might be said, but she wasn’t sure her inner resolve was up to hearing anymore painful truths. So taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, and took the first step.

Dawn flushed, Spike gaped, and Buffy closed in on both of them.

As the Slayer advanced into the room, Spike, unconsciously, took a step back.


She was looking a lot less upset, and a lot more like the Buffy he remembered.
If it hadn’t been for her little ‘She’s right’ comment, Spike would have put the look on her face down to her usual attitude of, Stake first ask questions later.
A bloke never did know whether he was coming or going with her. Surely the wounded act from earlier proved that.


Dawn panicked.


“Uh, Hi Buffy. Gee, I didn’t expect you back so soon. So what did Willow say? Oh hey yeah…um , Spike and I were”… darting a quick glance at Spike Dawn weighed up the chance that Buffy had only caught part of their conversation. And hopefully not the part with her doing the yelling. She gulped nervously at the look in her sisters’ eyes.


“Um, you know, we were talking… Just catching up. So… Hey, where’s Will? she asked doing her best to look innocent.


Dawn was praying that her sister hadn’t overheard too much of their conversation, Buffy may have loved Spike but her temper could get the better of her at times. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if she staked him in a momentary fit of rage.



Spike for his part, had donned his ‘who gives a toss face’.


Watching Dawn slip into ‘I am so busted mode’ he concentrated on all the reasons he had to not get involved in whatever had brought the two of them back into his life.


He still had no clue what was going on with the slayer, but Dawns’ words and the slayers change of tune told him thing were about to get interesting. And he was determined, even if it killed him, again, not to care. Sooner the slayer was out of his life, the better.



Watching her face though, he couldn’t help being just a bit curious.

How long had she been standing there, what had she heard, and why was Dawn looking like she was about to be grounded for the rest of her life?


Trying to shrug off the guilt he felt as he recalled some of his harsher words, Spike did his best to tell himself that it served her right if she’d heard the lot. Not like it wasn’t the truth.

Bloody woman, why couldn’t she have stayed in Rome. Fuckin' typical, life starts to look up, an the bloody Slayer has to come along an bollocks up my existence all over again.


Wishing he hadn’t left his cigarettes with Faith, Spike did his best to resist the sudden urge to fidget as the slayer looked directly at him.



Buffy studied the two of them; Dawn was babbling, which told her that she was feeling guilty about something, and Spike was doing his best big bad impression.


Ok, apart from the few snippets she’d caught, what the hell had Dawn been saying?

Sure, she was a tad pissed that Dawn had been the one to tell him how she felt, and yes, it devastated her to know that Spike believed she had used him.


Hmmm, narrowing her eyes she took in the deer in the headlights look on her sisters’ face, and the half sneer on Spikes’.


Seeing Dawns’ eyes dart between the two of them and the unconscious way she was nibbling on her lower lip, Buffy realized that Dawn was not worried for herself so much as for the vampire.


Just what had the bleached menace been saying? that had the girl who’d been yelling at him only minutes ago, suddenly switching to protecto mode? And Spike? She knew the vampire well enough to know that the snark was a cover.


Boy, am I glad I only caught the tail end, if Dawns’ face is anything to go by, it must have been pretty bad.


She tensed as a dozen possibilities ran through her mind.
God please don’t let it be about him and Faith, surely they haven’t had time to…



She didn’t have time to complete her panicked thought, as the slayer in question entered the room.




Faith had gone back to her room initially; she had been more than willing to give Spike his space with the girl she knew he loved, second only to her sister. And when Buffy had turned up a little later she had squashed her worry and waited to see what the older slayer would do.


It had been to that end that she had decided to hang back just out of range of their forthcoming (cough) conversation, intending only to be on hand in case things got a little heated.

Which knowing the both of them, she had no doubt it would.


Thinking to kill two birds with one stone she had stationed herself at the top of the stairs, she figured she’d be within shouting range if Spike needed help, and if anyone else turned up she could head them off at the pass, so to speak.


Buffy had barely entered the room when she had sensed what she’d hoped for the least. Angel was headed her way.


“Crap” Swearing softly she slid to her feet and casually strolled down the stairs.


Halfway down Angel entered the lobby making a beeline for the stairs.


Double crap! How the hell was she supposed to keep him from sensing the other slayer?



She loved Angel… really, she did, but when it came to Buffy, he could be a little… unreasonable. And finding out that she was upstairs talking to his granchilde when he didn’t even know she was in his hotel…well it would not be of the good.



Sure, Spike had fought by his side, and they got along…mostly. Yeah ok, they argued like they were married or something, and there was the occasional thrown fist. Still they were family it was to be expected.


It was just that Angel… Oh who was she kidding. Angel could barely stand the fact that Spike had been with Buffy, he’d go damage bound if he knew she was cosying up to him in one of Angels own hotel rooms.

He talked the talk about as well as Spike when it came to the blond slayer. Moved on my ass.

Faith had heard all about his little werwolf chickie and his whole Buffy’s moved on and so have I speech. Spike had been shit loads of vocal on the subject. But she for one wasn’t buying it.


She, unlike Spike, had been around for a good portion of the angst fest that was the Buffy and Angel show, and unlike the others, she knew what it was like to crave something you couldn’t have. You might accept it, but it didn’t mean you had to like it, or for that matter, stop wanting it.


Buffy had been Angel’s goal for so long, that she doubted he even saw the girl herself anymore. And if it looked like Spike might have a chance… she winced. Oh yeah that is so not gonna be pretty.


“Hey Angel, so what’s up?”



Angel jerked in surprise; he had been so lost in thought that he had not even sensed Faith until she was nearly on top of him.


“Oh, hello Faith, sorry didn’t see you there”, Angels mouth twisted into a wry smile.
“I thought you were still upstairs, do you need something?”


Unconsciously directing a brooding glare in the direction of Spikes room, he missed the relieved expression on Faiths face.



“Well, now that you mention it fang boy, I’m really jonesing for some takeout. Don’t suppose you have any menus lying about? Preferably, ones that do the delivery thing? You know, what with me being on the lam an all.”



She grinned at his discomforted look, the reminder that she was still a wanted felon in the states, and as such had risked her freedom, just by turning up to help, jolting him out of his usual brooding look.




“Uh… well. I really don’t know, that was Cordy’s area”, I… she… ah used to keep them in a draw behind the reception desk”.


At the sudden sad and lost look on his face, Faith felt her conscience twinge a little over her hurriedly thought up distraction.

Still, he’d be a lot more unhappy if he went up those stairs anytime soon.


“S’cool, I suppose I could risk a quick run down to that Mexican place on fifth”, chewing her lip uncertainly she watched him beneath lowered lashes.


“Hell, if it’s anything like Sunnydale, Cop’s are probably givin’ this area a pretty wide berth after the whole Dragon thing."


With her best ‘I don’t want to be a bother’ look on her face she waited a beat before looking up to meet his uncertain gaze.

“Don’t sweat it man it’ll be five by five” Shrugging nonchalantly, she turned as if to go.



As expected Angel immediately did what all good hero’s do.


“No Faith, you’re a guest. Forget it, you’re not going out there again, you’ve done enough without risking getting caught for something as simple as dinner”. His smile was genuine as he guided her back towards the stairs.


“Go upstairs, take a shower, relax. I am sure I can find my way down to fifth to order takeout without screwing it up too badly. Fred dragged me there enough times, that I could probably find it blindfolded”.



His expression again teetered between brooding and melancholy at the mention of the former A.I member and Faith shifted uncomfortably as she mentally smacked herself upside of the head for picking Mexican.


Fuck, good going, remind him about his dead friends some more why don’t ya.


Smiling weakly, Faith told him what she wanted, feeling doubly guilty since they had raided his kitchen less than an hour ago.

Ok, so what if the food that Spike had scrounged, barely fulfilled the criteria of edible. Considering some of the things, she’d eaten in her less than memorable childhood she felt guilty as hell manipulating the guy into getting her more.


Her guilt didn’t lessen any when he waved off her attempts at giving him the cash to pay for it, insisting as she was his guest, and had Quote ‘pulled his ass out of a tight spot’, so it was only right that he pay.


Turning away from her with an offhand wave at her attempted thanks, he slipped silently out into the night.



Shaking off her continuing and annoying desire to feel bad, Faith headed back upstairs.

Sheesh Faithy you’re really taking the white hat thing too far, S’not like you lied to the guy. Its for his own good. Faith rolled her eyes at her own thoughts.


Fuckin A, I so don’t need the whole Buffy gotta be a good girl vibe. Shit, I shot the guy full of poison and I’m tripping over sending him for takeout.


She snorted, the irony of her thoughts underling just how much she’d changed in the past year.

Somewhere between breaking out of jail and joining up with Giles’s merry band of do gooders her whole outlook on life had gone and done a complete 360.


Shit, I’ll be helping little old ladies cross the street if this keeps up.

Sniggering to herself, she shook her head and entered the room, only to hit a wall of tension so thick her first thought was to wonder if anyone had a knife sharp enough to cut it.


Then again, she stiffened, her hackles rising as the blond slayers gaze locked with hers.If the look on B’s face is anything to go by, I should probably rethink the whole knife thing.

Buffy was shaking. She could feel her anger and possessiveness twisting and turning in her gut, and it was taking every bit of control she had not to wipe the smirk off the other slayers face.


She felt Spike’s instant agitation at the other girls’ arrival, and out of the corner of her eye, she noted her sisters fists clench in an echo of her own instinctive desire to attack.


Her eyes narrowed, as Faith’s gaze locked with hers before darting to meet the vampires.


When Spike moved past her and took the dark haired slayers arm, Buffy couldn’t suppress the growl that had been building in her chest any longer.



Spike found himself in the unenviable position of being both worried, and at the same time glad to see the other slayer.

Worried, because Faith and Buffy had never played well together at the best of times, and glad of the fact that she was there to act as a buffer between himself and the woman who had broken him in every way possible.


Taking Faiths’ arm, his intention was to pull her in close as a gesture of solidarity. However, Spike found himself pulling her behind him, as Buffy let out, what his demon was quick to interpret as a growl of rage.



Startled blue eyes took in furious hazel, the expression on her normally beautiful features not one he could ever remember seeing, in all the years he had known her.

He thought he’d seen, (more often than not, directed at him) every variation of anger she possessed, but this was a new one. And the growling?



Bloody hell, she’s actually growling like a…well a vampire? Ok mate get a grip. He blinked, hard, and resisted the urge to rub his eyes.


The Slayer…His Slayer. Bollocks! Not his… never his, was growling and staring at them like she was possessed or something.

What the bleedin fuck was going on?



Buffy for her part was doing her best to talk her inner slayer down.


Right at the moment, the slayer wanted nothing more than to kill the fucking bitch that had stolen the man she loved, then drag Spike off and tie him up till he agreed to love her again.


The Buffy part of her was doing it’s best to convince the other that (as tempting as the idea might be) Faith, regrettably was human, and that Spike had more than earned the right to love whomever he wanted.



She might have actually won the argument, if Faith hadn’t chosen that particular moment to do one of her ‘bring it’ head tosses.

Her hair, which up until now had covered her neck, swept back revealing the still livid bite mark that Spike had been so reluctant to give.



Buffy saw red, literally. The slayer, who’s nature at heart, was, after all a demons, roared with rage and pushed the Buffy side so far out of the way, that rational thought wasn’t even in the same zip code.


She charged and Faith didn’t even have time to raise her fists.




Dawns’ emotions had run the gamut tonight. She’d gone from overjoyed to angry and miserable, with short stops at scared and confused, and her personal favorite, vengeful. But the moment Faith reappeared, Dawns’ mounting worry over her sister’s reaction to hers and Spikes’ conversation, was driven out by a brand new one… murderous rage.


Never in her life, had she wanted anyone dead as much as she wanted the dark haired slayer dead. Not even Glory had made her feel this much hate and anger.

This bitch had threatened her Mother, stolen her sisters’ body, and attempted to kill just about everyone Dawn had ever cared for. And now she was trying to steal their vampire.


So what if he hadn’t called. So what if he thought Buffy had used him. It didn’t give slayer tramp the right to move in on what Dawn considered, her sisters, and by extension, her vampire.

Spike loved Buffy and he loved Dawn, those two facts were the one thing she had been able to hang on to after his death in the Hellmouth. Sure, they hadn’t officially made up, but he had to know, death threats aside, that she still loved him.



They had shared a bond that awful summer, which had cemented their relationship in ways that not even Dawn, had understood.

The moment she had seen the Welcome to Sunnydale sign fall into the crater, it had hit her just how much she had actually lost by not forgiving him, while she still had the chance.

She had lived with her regret and guilt for nearly a year, and now when they should be making up and celebrating the fact that they had gotten another chance to let him know what he meant to them, Faith had to come along and take him from both of them.


I bet the bitch is just loving this. She couldn’t get Angel, so she goes after Spike.
I wonder what sort of crap she’s been filling his over bleached head with.
If I find out she’s in on this with that weasel Andrew...

Whatever fate Dawns inner rant might have come up with was interrupted before completion, as Buffy pre-empted her.
Dawn could only watch in open-mouthed awe, as her sister moved with a speed and ferocity that Dawn hadn’t known she possessed.

Whoa Holy hell. She winced in sympathy as Spike was thrown to the side, his attempt at stopping the enraged blond just that fraction of a second too slow.


Faith, with Buffy on top, was propelled through the open door, and by the time Spike had pulled himself to his feet and followed, the two snarling and cursing slayers were halfway down the stairs.



As he moved to intercept them, Dawn grabbed hold of one duster clad arm.



“Spike don’t, you need to stay out of this”.

Turning to shake her off, Spike was startled by the look of fear on her face.


“Dawn, pet. M’not gonna hurt her, but I need to stop them”.

Glancing back over his shoulder at the battling slayers Spike attempted to pull his arm from Dawns’ grasp.


“No Spike, you really don’t”.

Tightening her hold on him Dawn wished, not for the first time, that she had some of her sisters’ strength.

“Listen you big doofus, two angry slayers one stupid vampire, you do the math”.

Using both hands now, she counted on Spikes reluctance to actually hurt her, as she tried to make him understand that getting between her sister and Faith would only get him hurt.



Spike huffed in exasperation as his subtle attempts to remove the girl failed.

Bloody hell, the chits got a grip on her.


“Look Bit, you have to let go, stupid bint’s are gonna kill each other if someone don’t stop em”.

He tried to gently pry her fingers off his duster, but short of actually hurting the girl, there wasn’t much chance of his being successful anytime soon.



“No Spike, please,” she begged. “Buffy won’t understand. Please don’t interfere”.

Wide blue eyes welled with tears, as Dawn clutched his arm even tighter.

“Faith is human, Spike, Buffy doesn’t hurt humans… But I don’t know what she’d do if you tried to help her.”



At his torn and confused expression, Dawn scrambled closer.

“Don’t you see, if you choose Faith…I don’t know what she’ll do. She missed you so much, and she’s really upset that you didn’t tell her you were alive. I-I’ve never seen her like this, never seen her lose it like that…”



“Dawn,” he cut in impatiently, “first up I’m not choosin’ anyone, just want them to stop brawlin’”.

Eyes clouding with some nameless emotion, he tried to avoid her gaze.

“Look kitten I know you love your sister…s’ only natural, but I think you’re not seein’ things clearly, yeah. She don’t care bout me pet, not in the way you think. Buffy jus' don’t like knowing that Faith an’ I…”



Whatever Spike might have said, Dawn didn’t get to hear. From downstairs, there was the sound of a startled yell and seconds later the lobby lit up with a bright light, which could only mean one thing. Willow had arrived.





At first Faith had been shocked by Buffy’s attack. Shock had quickly turned to rage, and after the fall down the stairs, combined with the weird way the other slayer was acting, rage had given way to something Faith was unaccustomed to feeling…fear.



Instead of her usual quips and insults, and the moderated careful style of fighting that Buffy normally employed when facing her, Faith was confronted by something she had never experienced before. Pure concentrated slayer.

A slayer that seemed intent, on not just taking her down for the count, but actually killing her.


The only sounds the blond made were the eerie and familiar hisses and growls that Faith more than often or not encountered when fighting a vampire.
That however wasn’t the thing that had her running scared, it was the knowledge that she felt in her gut… that this was one battle she wasn’t walking away from.

Her ankle was sprained from the fall down the stairs, and the cut Buffy had opened over her eye was bleeding so badly that her vision was starting to become a problem.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, her head was ringing from several blows that she had been unable to block in time. Blows, that to Faith, felt way harder than she remembered Buffy ever hitting her the numerous times they had fought in the past.



“Shit B”, she muttered, as the other kicked her in the chest for the third time. “What the fuck is your problem?”



She gasped as Buffy lunged for her throat, seemingly determined to finish the fight, and sooner rather than later.




Faith twisted and turned trying to break the others hold, but her vision was starting to sparkle with the little squiggles of light that heralded approaching asphyxiation. She realized with a flash of real terror, that if she couldn’t get away, Buffy was quite possibly going to choke the life out of her.



Buffy had two thoughts going through her head. My vampire…Mine, and gonna kill the bitch.

Any semblance of rational thought had fled the moment she had seen the bite on the other slayers neck. Kennedy’s earlier taunting words about them sharing blood had washed over her, and she lost what little control she had.



Spike had drunk from someone that wasn’t her. Spike had done to Faith in the few days they’d been alone, what he had never once asked of her.

It didn’t matter that in the past, she would have been horrified and sickened by even the thought of Spike asking for that.

Not once, in all those desperate times they’d come together, had Spike even alluded to the fact he wanted her in that way. They had done everything two people could do to each other, but that one thing she knew was a vital part of a vampire’s sex life.


At the time she’d been relieved, she knew what it meant if a vampire bit a lover during sex. She had read up on vampire mating habits years ago when she’d first started dating Angel.

She knew, that to most vampires biting was considered the most intimate thing a couple could do, even more intimate than the act of sex itself. If a vampire bit another, it usually meant that they wanted more than just a casual fling. Biting was the vampire equivalent of going steady.

The only exception, was biting during fights for dominance, or sometimes, on rare occasions, the claiming of someone from another clan.

She knew damn well that neither of those applied to the dark slayer, so that left only one option that she could see.



The part of her that was the slayer, knew only that the vampire she loved, had bitten another.

Had, quite probably claimed Faith as his lover. And that part of her was furious, so furious that she was determined to kill her rival, regardless of Spikes feelings.



She might have done it too, if Willow had not chosen that exact moment to return.

Willow had had a long and tiring couple of days. Being stuck with Andrew in a crowded diner, which served bad coffee and even worse food, had pretty much exhausted the last of her patience.

So when she entered the hotel with Andrew trailing behind, the last thing she needed was the blast from the past that she received.

“Holy Hectate what the Hell is going on?” she yelled, as she took in the startling sight of her best friend and Faith fighting like a couple of wild cats.

Willows temper, already stretched by Andrew’s company, snapped. Acting on long established instinct, she raised her hands. “Separate…Bind.”

The words had barely left her mouth before she belatedly remembered that this was the new and improved Faith. Unfortunately, the spelled command had already taken effect, leaving Buffy to gape at her and Faith frozen in a pool of Willow’s magic.



Upstairs, Dawn, startled by Willow’s magical light show flinched back, releasing Spike in the process. Taking advantage of her fright, Spike threw her an apologetic look, before running for the stairs.



Buffy’s gazed flickered between the immobile focus of her rage and the witch that had inadvertently saved said focus’ life. Though unaffected by the second part of Willow’s spell Buffy paused, torn between finishing what she had started and her other urgent need.

In the moments it took her to decide, Spike entered the lobby closely followed by Dawn.
As he came to a sliding stop, Spike was shocked to see Faith suspended in a bubble of light and Buffy pulling herself up from the floor where she had been thrown by Willow’s spell.

Spike’s demon bristled as he took in her feral appearance. Buffy’s normally neat and fashionable look had been replaced by the savage fury and tousled appearance of the slayer. She was radiating power and anger from every pore, the expression on her face calculating and deadly, as her eyes switched between the witch and Faith.

For a moment he was sure she’d renew her attack on the other slayer, regardless of the spell or the witch’s presence. Spike froze in indecision; he was torn between his instinctive desire to go to her side and his conscience that was telling him to get Faith away before Buffy could attack again.

He need not have worried. Buffy had other plans.


Dawn, after nearly tumbling down the stairs in her haste to follow Spike, watched in awed astonishment as her sister moved once again with that incredible speed she’d witnessed upstairs.

Willow, who’d been standing motionless, a guilty and dazed look marking her features, wavered in her own indecision as her mind caught up with the present. She had a brief moment to think that something about the situation in front of her was off, before her world went dark.

The Slayer had done what the slayer did best. She had, with one glance, weighed the situation, examined her options and acted. She streaked towards the only one in the room that had any chance of thwarting her plans, and with one decisive punch, she knocked the witch out.

Turning in the time it took to blink, she changed direction and threw her self at the immobile vampire. Spike barely had time to register Buffy’s attack on Willow before the slayer was suddenly and shockingly in front of him. She growled low and deep and before Spike could even ask her what the fuck she thought she was doing, he was joining the witch in unconsciousness.

Dawn gaped as her sister knocked Willow out with one sharp punch, then moving nearly faster than the eye could follow, proceeded to do the same to Spike.

Moving forward, Dawn quickly pulled her hand back as Buffy’s lips drew back in a snarl of warning. “Buffy… What are you do…” Dawn’s gasped question was drowned out by the growl the slayer sent her way.

Gulping heavily she hastily stepped back as the older girl’s furious glare swept over her. The look in her eyes letting Dawn know clearly that at the moment Buffy was not in the drivers seat.

She backed off as the slayer, satisfied that Dawn wasn’t a threat, stooped down and manhandled Spike until he was over her shoulder. With barely a glance at the others, the former Sunnydale slayer and the unconscious vampire disappeared out of the doors into the night.



Andrew, who had at the first sign of Buffy and Faith’s fight hidden behind the large circular couch, poked his head up the moment the doors swung shut. When his eyes landed on Dawn and the frozen form of Faith, he paled enough to make a vampire look tanned.

Oh Shit! I am so dead was his first thought as he did his best to duck back down before he was spotted. Crawling on his hands and knees, he attempted to head away from Dawn towards the nearest open door. If he could just find somewhere to hide until Dawn had left, then he could probably find a way out of the mess in which he found himself.

God, Merucio and Illona were going to kill him when they found out that the slayer, despite all his efforts, had turned up in LA. It was bad enough that the vampires had survived the fight in the alley. That alone, was sure to have Illona popping a blood vessel. But now that Buffy knew Spike was back, there was no way he could stop everyone from finding out what he’d done.

It was so unfair, he thought in frustration. It wasn’t his fault Willow had decided to give Angel the benefit of the doubt. How was he to know she’d defy Giles’ orders and bring Faith and a dozen slayers to help out in his battle against the senior partners.

He’d done everything Merucio had asked of him. He’d even found the nut job slayer that was posing as the Immortal’s lover. With the spells provided by Illona, courtesy of the Rome office of Wolfram and Hart, it had been a simple matter to change the dowdy and somewhat mentally unbalanced girl he’d found in Cleveland into the exact duplicate of Buffy Summers.

The hard part had been keeping everyone away from her.

Even though she may have looked enough like the Slayer to fool even her sister, anyone that really knew Buffy, would have worked out the truth pretty quickly the moment the pseudo slayer opened her mouth. She was so dumb she made Harmony look like a rocket scientist.

He thought he’d covered everything. Buffy, the real Buffy, was in Florida safely tucked away with her pain in the ass sister, while his and Merucio’s creation danced the night away in Rome. In the process alienating all of Buffy’s friends and allies, thus ensuring that the only one who might have possibly come to Angel’s aid would never be contacted.

The tricky part had been keeping the spell active on Buffy and Dawn.

Merucio, AKA the Immortal, had provided the initial charm, but Andrew had to renew it periodically. At first he’d been worried that one of the Summers girls might start to wonder why he called so often, but Merucio had calmed his fears by telling him that the spell would make his calls seem perfectly normal. Everything would have been fine if Willow hadn’t stuck her nose in and….


Andrew, lost in self-pity, had just enough time to let out an unmanly squeak before the fashionable Italian boot of the slayer’s sister put paid to his plans for staying hidden. The kick to his face, though not super powered, was more than enough to send him reeling.



Dawn had been on the verge of one of her good old panic fests when the sight of Andrew Wells’ not so stealthy attempt at escape distracted her.

Narrowing her eyes, she positioned herself and waited. The moment his head appeared around the edge of the couch she pounced. As far as she was concerned, his furtive scuttling was enough evidence of his guilt. Drawing back her leg like Spike had taught her, she kicked him directly in the face.

She found the subsequent bleeding and girly crying most satisfying, but thought there was room for improvement on the groveling front. Reaching down she grabbed him by his hair. Wrenching his head back until his eyes met hers, she did her best Spike impersonation. “Right you little weasel, start fucking talking or there won’t be enough left of you for my sister or Spike to even bother torturing”.

Andrew, never overly brave at the best of times, took in the fierce hatred on Dawn’s face and blubbered even harder. With tears, snot and blood decorating his features, he was barely able to get the words out. In hiccuping gulps, he spilled the whole plan, telling her everything.

Dawn, shaking with rage, was considering breaking Buffy’s golden rule by kicking the little shit to death, when Angel, with his usual bad timing, arrived back with Faith’s takeout.



Angel gaped at the sight of Faith, still suspended by Willow’s magic, before his befuddled gaze took in the unconscious witch and the incongruous sight of Dawn pinning a bleeding Andrew to his hotel floor.

Takeout forgotten, he rushed to the witch’s side. “What the hell happened here?” demanded Angel, while feeling for the redhead’s pulse. Satisfied she was alive, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the couch.

After setting her down gently, he turned to face Dawn. “What is going on Dawn? What are you doing here? And why is Willow unconscious and…” throwing a glance Faiths way he paused. “Why exactly is Faith… frozen?”

Eyes swinging back to the still fuming ex key, he stared at her hard before reluctantly turning his attention to Andrew. Noting that the boy was making strange gasping noises and his face had a decidedly blue cast, he looked back up to meet Dawn’s eyes.

“Don’t you think you should take your foot off his throat?” he asked indifferently. “That cannot be good for his health” he observed, brow furrowing, he folded his arms and waited expectantly.

With a pointed look at her squirming captive, Dawn rolled her eyes. “Gee, loom much, brood boy? Andrew and I were having a very interesting conversation, which you interrupted” Angel flinched as Dawn’s foot instead of lifting, pressed down even harder.

He had the brief thought that Buffy’s little sister had become remarkably scary since they had last met.

It was only then that it occurred to him that Dawn’s presence meant that her sister couldn’t be far away.

“Where is your sister Dawn? And again, what the hell is going on?” he growled in frustration as the girl in front of him shot him another annoyed look. “And while you are at it”, he ground out, jaw clenched in anger, “you can explain exactly why the slayer’s sister is torturing Giles’ right hand man in the middled of my lobby floor”.

Dawn, after giving Andrew a warning poke with her boot, was just pondering how much to tell him when there was a groan from the couch.



Willow woke feeling as if she’d been hit by a Fyarl demon, her head was foggy and her jaw ached.

Whoa, remind me to lay off the caffeine so late at night, Goddess that was one doozy of a dream…her pained thoughts slid to an abrupt halt as she opened her eyes and got a good look at her surroundings.

“Oh crap,” she muttered taking in the concerned look on both Angel’s and Dawn’s faces.

Lifting herself gingerly into a seated position, she sighed heavily. “Okay, from the looks on your faces I’m gonna go with ‘not a dream’” raising her fingers to her jaw, she probed gently, wincing when the left side in particular gave a sharp twinge.

Dropping her hands back to her lap, she arched a brow in inquiry. “So, one of you like to tell me why my best friend just went all damage bound on my ass?” She blinked, realizing somewhat belatedly that Dawn seemed to be restraining Andrew with her foot.

Huh, I wonder what he did too piss her off. Oh well, at least he’s quiet for once. Shrugging she turned her attention back to the other two, she put on her resolve face. “Well? C’mon?”

Angel just shrugged, while Dawn did the avoidy thing with her eyes that meant she was probably about to lie, but felt really bad about it.

“Okay Dawnie, I’m going to release Faith” she warned, “and after I’ve finished groveling for jumping the gun and freezing her, you and I are gonna have a little talk and it better be the truth” she fixed the former key with her best ‘don’t mess with me missy’ look before turning her attention to the silent vampire.

Seeing the brooding expression on his face, she suddenly felt her headache worsen.

Goddess help me, I should have gone with Ken while the going was good. Being cooped up with a bunch of hormonal teenage slayers is sounding so good right about now.

“Angel do me a favor” she said, attempting to stand. “While I take care of Faith, can you find somewhere to lock Andrew up before Dawn does him any permanent damage?” She stood, swaying with a combination of tiredness and possible concussion.

“I don’t know what he did and at the moment I can’t find enough energy to care, but I do know that it must be something bad, so make sure that wherever you put him is spell proof. I wouldn’t want to have to do a locater spell anytime soon, I don’t think my head could stand the excitement.”

Ignoring the now annoyed vampire and a still angry Dawn, Willow made her way over to Faith. “Release” she muttered with a tired wave of her hand.

Faith abruptly found herself sprawled on the floor and Buffy nowhere in sight. When her brain finally caught up, she had the somewhat startling urge to actually hug the witch for turning up when she did.

“Hey Faith sorry about the misunderstanding” she shrugged sheepishly. “I sort of jumped the gun there. Sorry” she apologized again. Seeing the bewildered look on the brunette girl’s face, Willow reached up to rub her aching head while she tried to formulate a plan of action that didn’t involve using any more magic.

“If it’s ok with you can you do the yelling and recrimination thing later? Preferably after about twelve hours sleep, cos I just woke up from one of Buffy’s more serious punches and I really need to know what the hell is going on.” wobbling slightly, Willow reached down and offered Faith her hand.

“C’mon Faith you look about as good as I feel” sighed Willow, grimacing as she got a look at the slayer’s injuries. “Tell you what, how bout for starters we go talk to Dawnie and find out why they’re in LA, then you can give me your version of the sitch?”

She smiled tentatively at Faith’s noncommittal nod before carefully easing the injured slayer to her feet. As soon as Faith had settled herself on the couch, Willow turned her attention to Dawn.

“Ok Dawnie, time to come clean.”

Motioning for her to sit while placing herself between the injured slayer and Dawn, she reached forward and casually tucked a strand of long dark hair behind the other girl’s ear before meeting the ex key’s mutinous glare.

“Look” she began. “I know we haven’t exactly kept in touch lately Dawnie, but I like to think that I’m your friend, and even though Buffy’s been wrapped up in her new life and we haven’t talked much, I still consider her my best friend, so please just tell me what’s going on. Why are you not in boarding school and why is Buffy acting so strange?”

Willow paused, trying to put into words what, up until now, she’d refused to confront. Deep down inside there was a part of the now powerful witch that would always be the awestruck young girl that Buffy had befriended in high school.

That part of Willow was still amazed that someone like Buffy had snubbed the cool girls to hang out with the geeky little nerd that she had been. Because of that, she had avoided confronting Buffy over the way she had been treating her friends and sister ever since she started dating the Immortal. Her inner insecurity unable to face that the slayer might have finally decided that Willow wasn’t the sort of person she wanted to stay friends with now she had the chance at a normal life.

Willow’s lip trembled as the events of the night threatened to overwhelm her. She was tired and her emotions, like her magic, were a little wobbly after the strain of the past few days. Steeling herself for the worst, she met Dawn’s gaze and continued.

“Dawnie, I love Buffy. You know that, but this thing with the Immortal, it’s… well it’s been hard. She hardly ever calls and when she does, all she wants to talk about is how wonderful he is and how happy she’s been. And I’ve tried to be supportive, I really have. I guess I just can’t understand how she’s changed so much in such a short time. And I have to admit” her expression, without realizing, taking on a disapproving cast as she spoke. “I still don’t understand her sending you away. The Buffy I know would…”

“But Willow, she didn’t” cut in Dawn. At Willow’s confused look Dawn frowned, her mouth closing with a snap as she pondered how much to tell the other.


Dawn, after talking to Andrew, was pretty sure that Willow didn’t have anything to do with the spell. At least Andrew hadn’t mentioned her name as one of his co-conspirators. But she still couldn’t understand how someone as powerful as Willow could have been fooled so easily. It was that worry that had her hesitating over her words.

Searching Willow’s confused and expectant gaze, Dawn - after a few moments of studying the others expression - concluded that Willow really had no idea that she had been the victim of someone else’s magic.

With a heartfelt sigh of relief Dawn immediately launched into a detailed if a somewhat rambling explanation of the truth. “Well, it’s like this. A couple of days ago”…

When Spike awoke, the first thing he registered was the quiet. The next was the headache threatening to split his skull open. The third and most alarming of the three was the fact that he appeared to be chained by both arms to a bed.


Straining his eyes he could make out the dark shapes of what he realized must be furniture. That, along with the bed, told him he was in someone’s bedroom. The strong smell of charred wood, damp plaster, and strangely enough, explosives also told him that no one had lived here for quite a while.

The bed was wrought iron and wood, and Spike knew that given enough time he could probably work his way loose by breaking the headboard that the chains were cuffed to.

Unfortunately, his vampire hearing soon let him know that he wasn’t going to get that time. As his headache subsided so did the pounding that had masked the slow heartbeat of the rooms other occupant.

He froze as seconds later he caught the familiar scent of his slayer.



Buffy had run as though the hounds of hell were chasing her, the slayer part of her intent on putting as much distance between the witch and herself as possible.

The predator inside the girl knew that the vampire would not be unconscious for much longer, that she had to find somewhere to secure him before he awoke. Buffy’s past experience also told her to find somewhere that the others wouldn’t think of looking. Somewhere that she could keep him until she convinced him that he was not Faith’s but hers.

Operating on a level that was barely human, the slayer rifled through Buffy’s memories of LA, discarding several possibilities before finding one that suited.

Entering the burnt out shell of a derelict building twenty minutes later, Buffy surfaced just long enough to recognize the former offices of Angel investigations, before her conscious awareness was, once again, subjugated by the slayers need.

Intent on finding an entrance to the basement below, her slayer side took control.

Carefully making her way through the fire-blackened ground floor her eyes scanned the damaged interior until she found what she was searching for, the remains of the old elevator shaft.



The slayer inside Buffy knew that it couldn’t hide the former lovers forever. It also realized Willow would eventually find them no matter where they hid. The demon also knew that if it did not manage to reunite the two lovers before that happened, then a lot more than Buffy and Spike’s hearts would stay broken.


The demon essence inside the slayer had lived for millions of years. Within it was carried the knowledge of every host, from the first slayer Sineya, to Buffy Summers and every potential that would ever be called.

Though no longer sentient in the strictest sense, the demon that gave each slayer her strength and abilities did have a sort of sense memory that allowed it to span time and dimensions. It was this ability that the slayer now put to good use.

Unbeknownst to the council, the men that had implanted the first slayer had no real knowledge of the demon that they had used, no conception that the thing they had captured was much more than it seemed.

Giles, after taking charge of the damaged slayer, would be the only one to come close to suspecting the truth. However, even his mind could not begin to understand the scope of a slayer’s true essence.


The real truth was that the slayer demon existed beyond the laws of physics and nature, it was, is and would be in every girl that had ever harbored the potential to carry it. It existed both inside and outside of linear time and crossed the borders of every known dimension.


When Spike killed his first slayer in China her slayer demon knew him as the vampire that killed Nikki Wood and the one that would stand by Buffy Summers’ side. It knew him through Kendra’s eyes and Faith’s, and through every slayer that had ever, or would ever know him in any way.

In the many times Buffy could have killed him it was the slayer within that stayed her hand.

Though unable to understand or express concepts in human terms, the force that powered Buffy recognized Spike as necessary to its host’s survival, thus ensuring that the blond vamp survived their many fights.


The slayer essence existed only to serve the purpose of the girls it inhabited. Time, space, or body did not matter; it served only the needs of the current host.
From the moment the first slayer became that host it was connected to every slayer that would ever live.

Unfortunately the connection it shared was not infallible. The Slayer demon only knew what could be, what might be. It in its limited way it could sense the path of its host and even glean certain details of the lives of the others that were part of the slayer line, but the future was a varied and tricky thing and much like prophesy it was subject to interpretation.

Without true sentience to guide it the essence of the slayer relied on instinct and the decision making skills of its host.

In reality it was only able to control what the host could perceive, anything beyond that was beyond its control. It had the knowledge but only limited means of imparting it.
Though symbiotic in form the relationship it shared with the body it inhabited was limited, the girl herself had no knowledge of what the animating force of the slayer really was and the demon had no direct control over her actions.



Before Buffy’s first death, it had always been able to draw on her knowledge and influence her decisions to varying degrees. It had of course known that she would die briefly but with its limited awareness it was unable to comprehend what her death would mean for the slayer line.

When a second slayer was called it suddenly found that it was unable to access Kendra’s memories in the same way it had always done with the others. It could still sense her but had no influence over her actions, and since its knowledge of the future had always depended on its host the fact it could not connect with Kendra in the same way as it had with Buffy meant that its knowledge of future events was now flawed. And paradoxically… had always had been flawed.

Though driven totally by instinct, the primal force of the slayer, (up until Buffy’s death) had always been able to sense and augment the needs of its current host. However, after Kendra was called it found itself severely limited, as the slayer line split in a way that was unforeseen by the slayer demon and should have been impossible.


The conscious part of the slayer demon, its ID or soul, had been anchored deep within Buffy and was as it had always been, the last part of the slayer essence to be released. Upon her death at the hands of the master, the slayer demon did what it had always done, it sent it self out and forged a connection with the next girl. Once the connection was made, it poured its power into the girl and altered her physiology to accommodate the demon essence. However, before it could complete the transference …Buffy was brought back.

Buffy’s resuscitation by Xander meant that part of the slayer essence, instead of moving on completely, stayed with her. Moreover, because it existed beyond the limitations of time or dimension, the paradox of it existing simultaneously in two separate girls didn’t even cause a ripple. As far as the universal balance was concerned, it had always existed in every potential to some degree.


It was unfortunate that the powers governing that balance had no way to measure either the amount or balance of each girl’s slayerness. So of course, it went unnoticed when the latest host failed to receive the most vital part. The soul of the slayer essence, the part that guided the human girl’s calling staying within Buffy.

No less powerful, the essence residing in Buffy found itself cut off first from Kendra’s thoughts and feelings and later Faith’s.

Subsequently each girl received the power, but none of the guiding force that ensured a slayer would stay true to her calling.


This meant that the slayer essence had no way to check Faith’s gradual descent into darkness and no way of tempering the sense of separation that the split had caused.
Though still retaining its knowledge of all the slayers that would exist, along with the potentials, Faith was now locked away from it.


Buffy’s second death was only to make things worse, for without the soul of the slayer demon to guide a slayer, Faith became an aberration… no longer heavens chosen one.

Though no one realized it, the damaged balance that was to cause the release of the First Evil, was in fact not due to Willow’s resurrection of Buffy, but rather the paradox that had occurred with that first death. Her second death and the botched resurrection only ensuring that the part of the slayer essence trapped within Buffy would never be released.

It seemed that Spike had been more right than he had known. Buffy may have not come back wrong… but she had come back as something more than human.

For the first time in millennia the slayer was more than just a host sharing a symbiotic relationship. The spell had melded Buffy and her slayer essence into something close to what it had once been, long before humans had existed.


Unknown to any but the slayer essence itself, once, aeons ago it had walked the earth as a conscious and sentient being. Omnipresent and ageless, it had long since evolved past the concept of good or evil. It had only one drive, one purpose - the desire to change. To become what it was meant to be.

And so, as man rose and the last of the old ones retreated to sleep their deathless sleep in the deeper well, it had, instead of joining them, given in to its destiny and allowed the destruction of its shell.

It became in that moment the essence that the first watchers had unknowingly used to create their warrior, the slayer. And its purpose was fulfilled.


Now the former god found itself once again encased within a shell of flesh and bone, cut off from its purpose, and constrained for the first time in millennia by human limitation.
Because of Willow’s spell there would be no eventual release that would allow the balance to be righted. It would never move on to inhabit the many others it now sensed.

Buffy’s fall through the dimensional portal opened by the key’s blood, had merged the slayer essence and the girl’s soul, so that months later when Buffy crawled out of the grave the slayer trapped within her instantly realised they had been altered on a molecular level, Buffy’s body reformed to house the essence of a God.


When Willow did her spell empowering all the other slayers it was Kendra and Faith all over again. The guiding force, absent in all of them. Now, unbeknownst to any but Buffy’s inner demon, the fate of the world was once again in jeopardy, the balance for the first time teetering on the brink of the unknown.

Its purpose, to guide and balance the slayer line had become stymied by the spell that had unknowingly made its host immortal. Trapped first in Heaven and now in the body of a slayer that would never die, there was no way for the former god to reunite with the part of it that Willow had channelled into all the other girls. And without that vital part of the slayer essence many of those girls would travel the same path as Faith.

Before Buffy and her first death, the girl called {no matter her circumstances} was immediately connected to the demons higher purpose. Their inner strengths augmented by the essence of the slayer and their doubts and shortcomings balanced by the sense of connection that the demon enlivened. When a slayer was chosen her soul was wiped clean of humanities debt. Joined with the essence of a once god the host was imbued with the purity of the former god’s soul.

That wasn’t to say that they were any less human, it just meant that a slayer had tools to fight the darkness that was inherent in even the most noble human. They were still capable (Buffy had proved that) of all the ranged emotions that any human could feel and no less likely to make mistakes. It was only that with the essence inside guiding them, they were less likely to make those mistakes twice.

The life and experience of each girl might differ, but with their link to the slayers purpose, each slayer had a guideline that kept them on the path. Ensuring that even in their darkest moments the chosen ones ultimate duty would prevail.


With that link now broken, the slayers were no more than normal teenage girls. Worse, they were supernaturally powered teenage girls, with no inner purpose to guide them. The Sunnydale battle, unbeknownst to the Council or the Scoobies, was not the victory it had appeared to be, but in fact only the first step in the far reaching goal of the first evil.

It’s ultimate goal? To subvert and control the slayer line, and failing that… ensure it’s total destruction.


This threat was what had driven it to the surface of Buffy’s mind. Ironically it was Willows resurrection that had given it the freedom and the ability to do this. Without that second death it would have been no more than a spectator within the host, but Buffy was now much more than a simple host and it in turn was more than just a guiding force.

The essence of the long dead god now used the memories of a day that had never happened, to hide the slayer and the vampire she loved.

Though still unable to fully grasp the nuances of human thought, the slayer demon followed the instinct that was common in all beings… the instinct to survive.

It was instinct that told it that it had to find a way to reconnect with the rest of the slayer line before the first evil established a foothold within the more vulnerable of the girls. That same instinct told it that Spike and Buffy’s bond was the key to that reconnection.

The slayer of course, knew exactly where Angel had kept his restraints, so after a short search she secured her mate to the bed and sat back to wait.


Fifteen minutes later, Buffy was startled to find herself back in control and sharing a strange room with a very familiar vampire.

She had vague memories of the fight with Faith and even foggier ones of knocking both Willow and Spike out. After that, things were more than a bit hazy.

Looking around the room, she had a weird sense of the familiar, while at the same time she was sure she’d never been here before.


Lost in trying to remember how and why she had chosen the place she now found herself in, she didn’t see the vampire wake up. Eyes swinging back to the bed, she was startled to see him sitting up and staring at her, the expression on his face carefully blank.

Buffy felt her heart rate accelerate. What the heck was she supposed to say? She had knocked him out and vamp napped him. There wasn’t exactly a Hallmark card for that.

Eying him closely she stood and moved towards the bed. When he instantly flinched back she felt her heart clench in her chest.

Oh my God what have I done? He already hated me and now I’ve made things worse.


Averting her eyes Buffy searched franticly for the key to the restraints. When she didn’t find it in any of her pockets she started to search the room, doing her best to avoid the vampire’s gaze as she did so.



Spike heard her heart rate pick up, and when she moved towards him he couldn’t help his demons involuntary recoil.

Seconds later, he smelt her tears and caught a glimpse of her devastated expression as she moved away.

Studying her warily, he quickly realized she was searching for something and that she didn’t seem to be having much luck finding it.


Spike, not known for his ability to keep his thoughts to himself, acted in typical Spike fashion.

“Slayer, mind telling me what the bloody hell you think you’re doing?”

When she started but refused to meet his eyes, he found himself suddenly furious.



“Fuck!” he cursed, his tone scathing. “You always were a bitch Summers but even for you this is a new low. What, you couldn’t stand the thought of me not being your bloody lap dog anymore so you bring me here to do… what?”


He rattled the restraints pulling at them uselessly, his anger and confusion growing with each moment of her continued silence.


“Let me out of these you cold-hearted bitch! You’ve soddin well taken everything else away from me, what more do you want? I bloody died for you, what the fuck else do I have to do to be free of you?” he roared in frustration.


When he got no response other than her instant cessation of movement, his tone changed, his voice becoming low and mocking.

“C’mon slayer what’s the matter? The Immortal not doing it for you, is that it?” He asked snidely. “Want a little rough an’ tumble with the big bad… one las’ go for old times sake?”

His voice dropped into a knowing purr as he ran his eyes over her body.

“Might be interesting to see if you’re more than a one trick pony these days slayer, see if he taught you anything, what do ya say pet. Wanna Fuck?”



Buffy was torn by his words, finding herself in the strange position of being both simultaneously hurt beyond belief and hornier that she’d ever been in her life.

The things he’d called her, his obvious loathing and the blatant insinuation that she was a bad lover, hurting her in a way that made her want to both run from him and kill him at the same time.

Her body however, had other ideas, his voice stirring memories of the way only he could make her feel.


Undecided, she turned and faced him, her slayer side urging her to give in to the invitation she could see in his eyes. The Buffy part, the part that knew he no longer loved her, was horrified by the almost primal urges she could feel flowing through her body.

She wanted him with everything she was, everything she had. She wanted to throw herself at him and demand that he give in to her, and it was taking every ounce of her control not to give in to her own rampaging desire.

**********



Willow was angry. No scratch that, she had gone way past angry and was now edging towards homicidal. When Dawn had finished filling her in on hers and Buffy’s recent revelations, Willow’s first reaction had been scarily similar to Dawn…only with magic.


It was the wary look on Angel’s face when he’d returned after securing Andrew that clued her in on the return of the whole black eyed thing. Well that and Dawn’s nervous babbling about black really not being Willow’s best color, even as she hid behind an equally wary Faith.

Glancing down at her hair Willow registered the black streaks that had made their sudden, but not unexpected appearance and quickly pulled the magic back before it could spiral out of control.


“Oops! Sorry about that” she mumbled with a sheepish grin. “Major anger and tiredness do not a happy witch make” she offered apologetically.


Willing the last of the dark magic back to the place she kept it caged, Willow closed her eyes and took deep even breaths. Opening them moments later she addressed the still nervous trio.

“It’s okay guys, I’m good. Just a little stressed from the whole ‘someone put a spell on all of us’ thing”.


Meeting Angel’s troubled expression with her own she asked him to tell her what he remembered of his interactions with them over the last year.

By the time he’d finished telling them about his and Spike’s trip to Rome, Willow was giving herself even odds on who would kill Andrew first.

Dawn looked like she was about to explode and Faith surprisingly enough didn’t look too far behind her.


Goddess! All this time she’d thought Buffy was just getting carried away with the whole ‘normal’ no more Chosen One thing, and instead she’d been living in Florida with Dawn, both of them totally unaware of the fact that they had been under a spell for months.

And the Immortal, instead of being Buffy’s boyfriend was one of the co conspirators in Wolfram and Hart’s plans to bring on god knew what.

She needed to think, to plan… to kick some ass! The whole Wolfram and Hart involvement deal had tilted her world in a way she hadn’t expected.

How and who? That was the first thing she intended finding out.

Willow wasn’t vain. She knew she had power. After all, she’d nearly destroyed the world once and managed to empower thousands of slayers the world over. Nevertheless, the fact that someone had cast a spell on her that she’d failed to sense for well over six months, never mind altering her memories, had her wigging beyond the… well whatever was beyond wigging.

How the hell didn’t I sense anything? I spoke to Andrew in person more than a dozen times and I never even got a glimmer of what he was up too.

She chewed at her lip, brow creased in worry as she went over every interaction she could ever remember having with the traitorous watcher wannabe.

No matter how she looked at it, she still couldn’t remember anything seeming out of the norm, and that was a definite worry.

Whoever had supplied the original spell had a scary amount of power and had gone to dangerous lengths to make sure that they were all kept apart. And though Andrew had provided them with names and the objective of the spell, he, according to what he’d spilled to Dawn, had no real knowledge of why they had gone to such an extreme amount of trouble to keep one slayer and her friends away from the LA crew.


Sure, there had been the battle, but it was hardly ‘The Apocalypse’. No, there had to be more behind it than wanting Angel and crew fighting alone.

Then there was the Buffy and Spike thing. What the hell was up with that?

She’d got the definite impression that Dawn knew more than she was telling, and Faith was taking Spike’s abduction far more calmly than she would have expected.

A day ago Willow would have put money on the fact that Spike and Faith were a whole lot more than just friendly, but now observing Faith out of the corner of her eye it seemed to Willow that she was concerned, but not in a jealous possessivey kind of way.

And Buffy going all primal on them? Well it isn’t like that hasn’t happened before, she thought flippantly.

It was just that this time, Buffy’s focus seemed to be on the bleach blonde vamp that had died in the Hellmouth… Oh God! Of course…

Buffy had no idea he was back… and since the whole Immortal thing is obviously a load of whoee then it isn’t a stretch to think that Buffy might have moved on way less than anyone but Dawn knew.


Her eyes flickered nervously between Faith and Angel her mind churning into overdrive.

Okay Willow, first things first. Get rid of Angel so you can talk to Faith and Dawn without him listening in, and then once you know what’s the what, you can do a locater spell to find Buffy.


Thinking quickly she turned to face the glowering vampire.

“Angel I know it’s a lot to ask”, she ventured, her expression apologetic, “and I hate to be a bother but it looks like I’m gonna need some stuff for a location spell after all…and since I’m all out… and seeing that you know LA way better than me…”


Her expression pleading, she deliberately trailed off as she met the dark haired vampires bemused frown.



Angel sighed heavily. “Sure why not, write what you need down, I think I can persuade a demon I know to open a little early.”

Catching the witch’s eye, he gave her a meaningful look. “Hour and a half be long enough, or do you need me to pick up donuts as well?”



Willow flushed guiltily. “Ah… um … tha-that sounds fine Angel” she managed with a weak grin.

“Sorry,” she apologized, her gaze deliberately seeking Dawn’s “I just think Dawn might open up a little more if you’re not…well… here.”


Her eyes meeting Dawn’s quizzical look, Willow prayed that Dawn would catch on and not make her job any harder than it needed to be.



Dawn, though unable to hear the low-pitched conversation, was not slow to pick up Willow’s less than subtle stare. She immediately ducked her head and employed her best kicked puppy look.

Watching Angel out of the corner of her eye she waited to see if he was going to call Willow on her obvious manipulation and start asking questions that neither of them were prepared to answer.

Angel, undoubtedly knew there was more to the situation than met the eye, Dawn just hoped that he’d leave it alone long enough for her and Willow to talk about what she and Buffy were really doing here in LA.


Somehow, she didn’t think the fact that Buffy had come to his town to find the man she loved would go down all that well with him, especially considering that Spike was the man, or rather, the vampire in question.



Moments later, Angel after one last brooding glare in Dawn’s direction and a curt nod of acknowledgment to Willow, turned and stomped out.


Muttering under his breath about women in general Angel started to head in the direction of the magic shop he’d mentioned, before suddenly changing his mind.


The powers that be owed him some answers and since Willow and the others seemed less than willing to furnish them, he figured that a trip to the post office might just be in order.


It never ceased to amaze him just how lacking in trust the Scoobie’s were when it came to him. Okay, so what if he had been working for a formerly evil law firm… and yes, there was the fact that his soul was maybe not as stay fast as they would have liked, that didn’t mean he wasn’t on the same side anymore, he thought petulantly. They knew that his intentions had been pure and that he had been working to bring down Wolfram and Hart, but they still didn’t trust him enough to include him.


Willow had sent him off to get him out of the way so they could talk and that just made him… well he was hurt to tell the truth, not to mention pissed off. Spike was back five minutes and everybody was all accepting (and in some cases snugly) but he, the original vamp with a soul, was left out in the cold again.


Well he would just have to get his information from elsewhere and when he was the one that found out who was behind the whole thing then maybe he would handle it on his own he thought, a darker than usual scowl settling on his features.


He smiled grimly as he thought of how good it was going to feel when he was the one that rescued his grandchilde from yet another slayer.

Especially after Buffy realized that she’d been under a spell.

He still didn’t have the faintest idea how Buffy taking Spike fitted in to the whole deal, but he was sure it was somehow related to the spell that Andrew had told him about.

T
he boy had been more than a little vocal on their trip to the basement. Angel had barely growled at him and Andrew had practically wet his pants. In the fifteen minutes, it took for Angel to secure him in the cage they had last used to contain Angelus and return to the others in the lobby, Andrew had told him all about Buffy’s latest visit and the fight between her and Faith.


Admittedly, after Andrew told him about Buffy knocking Spike out and taking him, it took all his years of practiced self-discipline to go back upstairs and appear clueless. It was only Andrew’s confession of Illona and the Immortal being behind a plan to keep the two groups apart that had him putting a lid on his rage.


If Wolfram and Hart were behind the whole thing, then it was up to him to find out the truth.

It was clear that he was the real target and Spike’s kidnapping just a distraction to keep him from learning the truth about what Wolfram and Hart really wanted.


Buffy was obviously still under the Immortal’s control and Wolfram and Hart thought that he would be too distracted by hers and Spike’s disappearance to worry about anything until they were found.


Angel wasn’t worried in the least, it had been a year and Spike was well and truly over his stupid Buffy fixation, especially after Rome.

Of course, he might have been a little more concerned if Faith and his grandchilde hadn’t spent the last day or two holed up in a room together.

Spike’s mark on the dark slayer’s neck only confirmed what Angel had known from the moment he’d smelt his grandchilde all over Buffy that last night in Sunnydale.

It was obviously just another form of Spike’s slayer obsession that had drawn him to Buffy, that and the fact that Angel was her one true love, was obviously the only reason he’d been so persistent.


Angel snorted. Spike always did covet my women, Buffy being mine and a slayer must have been irresistible to the masochistic idiot. Still, now that Spike and Faith were an item Buffy would see that he, Angel, was the only vampire that truly loved her.


Maybe after he fixed this mess and found the two of them, he should sit Buffy down and discuss her cookie dough speech, and while he was feeling generous, he would make sure that Spike and Buffy sorted out their misunderstandings.

Spike may be a pain in his ass but he was still family and he and Buffy would undoubtedly run into each other from time to time, especially now that Buffy had come all the way to LA to be with Angel.


Mouth curving into something that closely resembled a smile Angel turned his thoughts to the questions he would ask the oracles.

It never occurred to him that Andrew might not have told him everything, just as it didn’t enter his mind that Buffy could have come to Los Angeles for someone other than him.


Of course, two oracles one former seer and an hour could make all the difference.

Spike watched as the slayer turned and met his gaze. Bracing himself for her anger, he was startled to see her eyes darken in a way that he remembered far too well for his own piece of mind.


Moments later when the heady smell of her arousal hit him, he found himself tensing with expectation as his body instantly reacted in a way that only she had ever inspired.


Cock straining the material of his tight jeans, Spike desperately tried to remember all the very good reasons why he should learn to keep his bleedin’ mouth shut.

Soddin Hell, what the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid git. She’s the bloody slayer, fight equals hungry n’ horny… an you’re tied to a bleedin’ bed.


Closing his eyes against the sight of Buffy’s intense stare Spike did his best to remind himself exactly why shaggin’ the slayer would be a very bad idea.

Right mate get a grip, she’s obviously under some sort of mojo, an’ the last thing you need t’ be doing is tauntin’ the girl about her sex life.

She fuckin’ used you to scratch an itch once, don’ go thinkin’ about lettin’ her do it again. It’s the spell…gotta be the spell, she don’t really want you… she’s reactin’ to the spell.


He took a deep unneeded breath and opened his eyes. Meeting her gaze defiantly Spike did his best to keep his expression blank, which he found wasn’t easy when his erection seemed to be doing it’s level best to break the zipper on his jeans.


The slayer’s eyes were riveted on his, the expression in them familiar from the many times she’d come to him after her resurrection.

She looked anguished and extremely pissed off, but overlaying all that was the hungry needy look that told Spike that she was teetering on the edge of taking him up on his earlier offer.


He groaned as her eyes left his, only to swallow hard as they dropped to the evidence of his arousal.

When she licked her lips and took a step closer, Spike had to stop himself from leaning towards her and releasing the growl he could feel building in his chest.



Buffy meanwhile, found she was having trouble remembering why, only a moment ago, she had been doing her best to convince herself that jumping Spike was not the way to go about getting him back.

In fact, his outward indifference, belied by the obvious erection he was sporting was telling her that she should jump first and ask questions later. He might not love her any more but he sure as hell wanted her.


Fuck, she’d missed him more than she thought was possible. She missed the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, she missed every damn thing about him. And she especially missed the way she felt when he was inside her.

God, look at him, he’s so fucking beautiful when he’s mad. My fierce brave champion… How do I make you believe that I love you… and will you even care?


Taking another careful step towards him Buffy shifted her attention from his cock back to his face. She searched his expression looking for a hint of the man she’d left in the Hellmouth.

His eyes were still the startling blue that she remembered, but sadly, the love that he’d never bothered to hide before was absent. He could not however hide the lust, and Buffy shivered as it set off a deep needy ache within her.

Feeling herself grow even wetter she moved closer, her heart at war with what her body so obviously craved.



Spike was in agony, the woman he’d loved… no, not loved. The woman he still loved with everything he had in him, was moving ever closer and the expression on her face was starting to confuse the hell out of him.


Gulping heavily, he desperately tried to remember all the pain she’d put him through, all the reasons why he was no longer loves bitch…Well no longer Buffy’s bitch at least, he reminded himself somewhat shakily as she closed the distance between them.

As her eyes started to glaze over and the smell of her arousal only became more intense he found he was having a hard time remembering exactly what it was that she’d done that was bad enough that he’d willingly turn down the chance to bury himself in her heat again.


When her hand brushed the mattress of the bed Spike let out a very unmanly squeak and pushed himself backwards against the headrest.


“Ok slayer” he managed to blurt, even as her lips turned up in a predatory smile. “Funs over pet, hows about you unchain me an’ we go find the others…”

He hissed as her hand found his bare foot, cursing the fact that he’d not had time to put his boots on before Buffy and Dawn had shown up.

“C’mon pet you don’ wanna do this… m’sure if you stop an’ think for a moment….”

He was cut off before he could finish by the first words she had spoken since his name.


“Oh Spike” she breathed out, his name sending shivers racing down his spine. “You have no idea,” she added, with a low growl.



He blinked, for the first time in his existence he was speechless.

Spike was used to being the predator, the one who chased. Even when he and Buffy were going at it like a couple of love-starved rabbits, it had always been he that had done the chasing, no matter who might have instigated it. But with six simple words Buffy had turned him into prey.


His mouth opened but he had no idea how to combat her simple statement. Master vampire or not, Spike was still a man and the woman he loved was standing in front of him and openly devouring him with her eyes and her words.


In one last ditch effort to avoid what he feared could, and most likely would, end in dust for him, he opened his mouth and made (depending on the way you looked at it) either the worst or the best mistake he’d ever made in his life.

“Really don’t think your thinking’ things out pet. Red an’ Hellcat are most likely on the way here…”


It was the casual way he said his pet name for Faith that did it.



Buffy in her lust driven haze had momentarily forgotten all about the other slayer and Spike’s possible involvement with her. However, the moment he spoke, her mind flashed back to the bite mark she had seen on Faith’s neck.

It was enough to push her inner slayer back into the driver’s seat. The fact that Spike had made it more than clear that he no longer loved her, was not enough to stop the girls jealousy and the slayer demon’s possessiveness from triggering an all out fit of rage.


Abandoning any attempts at seduction, the slayer did what she had wanted from the moment she’d seen the mark on Faith’s throat.

She snarled and pounced.



Spike had just enough time to think Oh bollocks before he found himself driven back against the mattress by the slight weight of the slayer.

His arms, chained as they were, meant that he had no way to stop her other than to twist madly and try and get his legs positioned well enough to either throw her off, or at the very least halt her attack.

Of course, he hadn’t stopped to think about the effect his frantic wriggling might have on the state of his already aroused body.


Before he had time to blink Spike found himself spreadeagled with a franticly snarling slayer on top of him. Instead of her attacking him, she seemed to be determinedly grinding herself against his still hard cock and every attempt he made to dislodge her was only making his situation (and his erection) harder.


Looking into her eyes he abruptly realized that whatever had triggered her earlier fit of vamp- napping was back for an encore, the expression on her face pure vintage slayer.

Her eyes were glowing with the sort of mindless lust he hadn’t seen since their first time in the abandoned house, and both her grip on him and the noises she was emitting told him that struggling would most likely only make things worse.


Spike’s demon wasn’t helping matters either. The moment her skin had made contact with his it had started clamoring for even more contact. Now he found himself doing everything he could to push the demon down and fight off his own churning need.


Moments later, he decided that whatever was controlling the slayer seemed determined to push him to his limit. Her snarling tapered off into snuffling whimpers and her movement, which at first had been violent and dominating, gentled into slow rubbing and soft undulations.


When her mouth traveled to the hollows of his tensed throat, Spike’s demon and his own need overwhelmed him and he found his formerly jerky movements of evasion slowing and synchronizing with hers.


The slayer sensed the moment he started to weaken and with a cry of triumph, her mouth moved to cover his siring scar and she bit down.

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





Willow, Faith and Dawn were in total agreement. Andrew was going to die.

As soon as they were sure that Angel was well clear of the hotel and after Willow had done a simple spell to make sure there would be no eavesdropping on their conversation, the three girls put their differences aside and did what women do best… they talked.


It took them barely twenty-five minutes to get each other up to speed, and when the conversation was done, each of them found themselves left with frighteningly similar thoughts.

They were pissed and someone was going to suffer… several someones, starting with Andrew Wells.



Faith couldn’t believe that they’d all been taken in like they had, and after hearing Dawns account of the last year of the sisters’ life she was very glad she had not given in to her urges where Spike was concerned.

Buffy and she might not be friends and her earlier attack might have pissed her off, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see her sister slayer suffer any more loss in her life.

Fuck man, after what happened with Riley guess I can’t blame her. Poor B, thinking Spike was dead all this time…then finding another former honey with me…she winced, Musta’ hurt somthin’ wicked.


Rubbing her neck absentmindedly, she flinched as her hand touched the bite mark on her throat. Her eyes widened with realization as her mind played back Buffy’s attack and Dawn’s scathing narration of Kennedy’s comments.

Holy shit. She musta seen the fucking bite, no wonder she lost it like that. Dudes a vamp and I’m running around sporting a vamp bite. That Fuckin bitch of Willows never did know how to keep her trap shut, I bet she just loved stickin’ it to B.


Faith scowled. Just wait till I see that little cow, I’m gonna punch her in her big fat mouth. Hell, if she’s fucked up Spike n’ B’s chance at happiness… I may just show her how dark a slayer can really get.

Faith would have been shocked to know that Willow’s thoughts were not that different from her own.



When Dawn had told them about Kennedy’s nasty reaction to Buffy’s arrival, Willow had found she was not all that surprised. The surprising thing had been the amount of anger she’d felt towards her current lover.

Goddess, she just cant help herself, thought Willow disgustedly. What the hell was I thinking, she’s a child with absolutely no feeling for anyone but herself.


Shaking her head at her thoughts Willow found herself hoping that the mission Giles had sent her girlfriend on would be a long one.

Jeeze Ken, I hope for both our sakes I don’t see you any time soon. I don’t think you’d like me when I’m angry. And boy am I angry.


Biting her lip Willow tried to tamp down her anger. She’d already nearly lost it once today over Andrew, she really didn’t need Kennedy’s betrayal on top of everything else.

How could she… how could she say those things to Buffy. If it wasn’t for Buffy she wouldn’t even be a slayer. Tara would never have said anything so mean…


It was the thought of Tara that finally calmed Willow down. Picturing the serene and beautiful woman that she still loved and missed desperately, serving to remind Willow of all she had nearly lost the last time her hold on the magic had slipped.

Oh baby I wish you were here… She sighed and tried to focus on the present and what they should do next.

One thing I do know, she thought to herself, Kennedy and I are so over. No one treats my friends like that… least of all a half grown brat with delusions of grandeur.


She sighed again. Time to face facts Willow my girl, even on her best day Ken couldn’t get close to what I felt for Tara, and it’s time I stop pretending differently.


Resolve face firmly in place Willow pushed her love life worries aside and turned back to study the other two girls.

She was understandably startled, when moments later, just as she was about to get their opinion on the glimmer of plan she’d managed to come up with, the room was flooded by a sudden brilliant white light.

Disoriented by the mystical forces he had called upon to transport him to the oracles, Angel staggered for a moment before regaining his balance. Patting his pockets, he searched for something that would make an acceptable gift for them.


When he failed to find anything of use he sighed heavily and reached down to unstrap the dagger secured to his ankle.

Damn and it’s my favorite one, too.


Shaking his head in annoyance, he turned and faced the two beings as they shimmered into existence. Holding his hand out he proffered the weapon hilt first and waited for them to speak.


Even as the blade disappeared from his hand, Angel heard the female oracles question closely followed by the males resonate within his mind.


They spoke as one being, the male finishing the female’s sentence; he had remembered that from his last visit, but found it was just as disconcerting the second time around.


“Why do you come here lower being? What do you seek that we have not already given?”



Angel met their gazes mutely, his expression carefully blank as he waited for them to signal their acceptance of his dagger. They communed with each other silently before turning and once again invading his mind.



“The gift is acceptable vampire, but we have not the answers you seek”, began the female, her voice inside his head feeling strangely cold.

“Your path has diverged from what was intended… your journey no longer the one we hoped”, added the male.

“We can not tell you what you wish to know” the female continued seamlessly, “our eyes no longer see your course, you have taken the path less traveled”.

The echoes of the male’s voice had barely faded when the two oracles turned as if to leave.



“Wait!”

Angel rushed forward determined to find out what they had meant, but he had only taken two steps when he found himself thrown back against one of the pillars of the oracles chamber.

Pulling himself up he shook his head, rubbing it where he had hit it on the hard stone.


Well that answers that question he thought ruefully. This place is definitely not all smoke and mirrors… illusions don’t normally hurt when you hit them.



His outburst had however, given them pause. When Angel looked up the two silver and gold beings had turned back to face him.

His eyes narrowed in thought as he watched them silently commune with each other, and if he was not mistaken, with a lot more animation than he remembered from the last time.

Studying them warily, he waited to see what they would do next.



The oracles as Angel suspected, were having a discussion, one that for them verged on argumentative.

“Sister, he has done much good and even now still walks the path of a champion, surely it would not harm any if we gave him some small measure of hope?


At his words the female oracle turned her gaze from his and when her answer came it was as cool as it had been earlier with Angel.

“It is not for us to question the powers that be my brother, you have seen the vampire’s fate, and it is his hubris that has led him to it.” With her next words, her expression and tone verged on scathing. “In his pride, he lost the path and doomed the ones he loved. What hope can we give this lower being that he has not already been handed a hundred times.”…

When her brother’s sigh interrupted her lecture she turned back to him in consternation.

“I fear you have watched the lower realms too long brother, mayhap you have become infected with human desire.”

Her tone turned condescending as she studied his expression.

“It is not our place to judge the will of the powers, we are but servants to that will and you would do well to remember that. Need I remind you of the fate of our predecessors?” She asked, her gaze locked with his.

“I need no reminder,” he replied calmly his eyes flickering closed as he bowed his head to her. “Perhaps you are correct to say I have been infected,” he admitted, even as his eyes sought hers again. “But it is not with desire my sister”.


She shivered. Never had she seen one of her kind look at her the way he was. Though never having experienced it herself, she knew that the emotion she could see in his familiar gaze was sorrow, and that it should not be possible.

“I do not understand,” she questioned, long dormant curiosity surfacing within her. “If it is not desire, why then do you champion his cause? You know that he is but dust on the wind. Why would you risk the powers wrath, to give him what would be faint words of comfort?”


He sighed, his eyes taking on a faraway cast that she had never known him to exhibit.

“For hope my sister….” he replied his tone wistful. “It is the one human trait that I envy them for.”

His eyes drifted back to Angel as he continued to speak

“These lower beings live such short ands pointless lives. Destined to be alone always, they will never know the joy of being joined to another in anything other than flesh.”

His expression pitying he continued, not once turning his attention from the vampire.

“So lonely their lives… so short and cruel. And yet… they cling to the belief that there is more for them than what they know. More to touch, more to taste, more than just endless loneliness and the certainty of death.”


Turning back, he reached out to her with his mind and let her see what he had seen, even as he continued to speak.

“They have hope that things will change, that they might find what they crave… they have hope that death is not the end and they believe in their hope. It is what sustains them and makes them go on… Where others would see only futility and despair, the human race sees more… because they have the one thing that conquers all…their hope.”

He was silent for a moment as he let her see all that he had observed since they had been called to take their place as oracles.


He waited until the last of his memories had been shared and then he did something that for their kind was rare. He smiled.

“So you understand why I wish to do this thing, why I must give him that hope?”


She met his gaze thoughtfully and nodded, before turning back to face the glowering vampire.


She studied the being before her, her expression carefully blank as she pondered the best way to fill her brother’s request.

Moving slowly towards him she met the vampires hostile gaze, her own as coolly aloof as her next words.

“Vampire, we can not give you the answers you seek, but my brother has shown me that there may still be… hope for you. So I give you warning.” She offered, gaze boring in to his.

“The choices you make will determine your worth, keep not on the path you tread for you have strayed from the powers sight, and now walk alone,” she said, her demeanor no longer serene and detached.

“You shall be tested one last time,” she warned, her tone grim. “If you fail… your soul will be the price and Angelus will stand at the head of hells armies.



Angel opened his mouth to interrupt and to ask just what the hell she meant, when the brothers voice interrupted first.


Moving to his sister’s side the male placed a gentle hand upon her arm. Without words she acceded to his unvoiced request and allowed him to finish.

“Love is the key vampire. Remember this and all will be well.”


Angel scowled.

Huh? What the fuck was that supposed to mean, Angelus…armies of hell?


“What do you mean love is the key?” he spat indignantly “And straying from the path? What path have I strayed from?”


Eyes flaring with the demons gold he gritted his teeth in fury, his voice dangerously low as he attempted to control his rapidly rising blood lust.


“I have done everything I can to defeat Wolfram and Hart… I have given everything. And you’re standing there telling me I’ve strayed?”

He snarled, his demon clamoring for violence.

“My friends are dead, my son is missing and the love of my life has kidnapped my pain in the ass grandchilde, and you’re telling me that love is the key?”

His eyes flashed golden again as he struggled to reign in the demon that was urging him to rip the heads from the two of them.

“I came here to get some answers” he ground out. “Answers that you say you can’t or won’t give, and all I’ve gotten, if I understand you correctly, is criticism, and cryptic advice that I don’t have time to puzzle out.”


He took a careful step forward; fists clenched at his side.

“If you can’t tell me what I want to know then point me in the direction of someone that can, because I really don’t have time for your mystic crap. You owe me… the powers that be owe me and I want some answers…Now.”



The two beings in front of him seemed to freeze for a moment before the female shot her brother a look and nodded.

“Very well… it will be as you ask.” She said her voice near freezing in its timbre.


Then with a look, that on anyone else Angel would have suspected was pity, she stepped back to her brother’s side.


Seconds later there was a sudden brilliant white light.


Nearly blinded by the glare he raised one hand to shelter his eyes. When it cleared, the oracles were gone and in their place stood Cordelia Chase.


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


As Buffy’s teeth sank into his throat, Spike froze in shock.

The demon however, was not slow to take advantage of Spike’s state of mind. Surging forward with a roar of triumph, it pressed closer even as Spike’s human features changed to that of the demons.


The demon knew only that the woman it considered its equal and as far as it was concerned the only possible choice for a mate, was at its throat.

In the eyes of Spike’s demon, the slayer was acceding to his long held belief that she was the only one for him. By doing so, instigating the hoped for connection in the form of a claim.

Any control that he’d had went by the wayside as he felt the woman he loved start to drink from him.


Moments later when she released his neck and he heard her fierce snarl of “Mine” he was swept away on a tide of emotion that he found he didn’t have the will to fight.


Roaring with a mixture of confusion and elation, he savagely fought the pull of the chains that were keeping him from her. When the chain binding his left arm gave way the demon snarled its satisfaction.

Chain flailing, and hand deliberately tangled in her hair, Buffy could do nothing as he grasped her by the back of the neck and pulled her to him.

Lunging for her throat, Spike bit down hard.


At the first taste of her blood, he very nearly came in his jeans. She was so sweet and the desire for him in her blood so clear that he thought he’d go mad if he couldn’t bury himself in her warmth.

Releasing her throat, he reached down and tore the jeans and panties from her body. The word “Mine” rasping out harshly as he ripped open his own pants before plunging forward and up into her heat.



The slayer met his invasion with a fierce cry of satisfaction, and moments later, both their shirts had followed the path of her jeans.


Buffy was desperate to get as close to him as possible, his cock filled her but she found herself wanting more.

As her inner demon retreated, the woman inside the slayer was overwhelmed with a sense of need that threatened to drive her beyond anything she’d ever experienced before.


Spike was here…Spike was inside her…Spike had claimed her, but it still wasn’t enough.
She needed for him to admit what he had once freely offered. She needed him to tell her that he was hers and more importantly, she needed to let him know that she was his.

Slowing her pace deliberately, she used her internal muscles to clamp down and still his frantic thrusts. Then reaching for his head, still buried in the crook of her neck, she grasped and raised it until his eyes met hers.

Staring hard into his golden eyes she slowly and very deliberately spoke the one word that would give him absolute power.

“Yours”



Spike was lost in sensation. Buffys blood… Buffy’s body… the tightness and heat of her… the scent of her arousal and need.

All of it threatening to overwhelm him with emotions that he’d done his best to bury so far down, that now they were released, it left him feeling as though he’d been living in a dream for the past year.

His desire and love for her flooded through him, bringing back feelings that he thought he’d managed to leave behind.


Flashes of their past together, the good and the bad, rushed through his mind and he found himself drowning in her, all over again.

Memories of the first time he’d seen her on the dance floor of the Bronze, the first time they’d fought, the first time they’d fought together, the first time they’d had sex, so many memories that he’d spent the last year doing his best to forget.

He remembered the crushing loss he’d felt the night she sacrificed herself for Dawn and the joy he’d known months later when she’d come down the stairs and he realized she was back. And he remembered those painfully agonizing months when they had been lovers, and the breath taking pain of her telling him that she was using him when she ended it.

He remembered his desperation as he attacked her in her bathroom and his anger as he traveled to Africa to seek out a legend, just so he could give her what she deserved. And of course, he remembered the sheer agony of his soul and the despair when he realized he would never be what she needed.

Then those last months in Sunnydale, in her house, trying to hold it together against the insanity and the manipulation of the First Evil. Because after everything, it was the only way he knew how to show how sorry he was. To show her how much he still loved her.

He remembered the quiet times when they had been something very like friends. The pride he’d felt when she’d told him that she believed in him and the gratitude he’d felt when she had let him hold her those last few nights.

Finally, he remembered the look in her eyes and the feel of her burning hand linked with his, as she said the words that he had refused to believe.


For Spike, it was if a veil had been lifted. As though his memories of their time together were suddenly illuminated in a way that he had never considered.



For months, he had done his best not to think of her and when inevitably she’d crept back into his thoughts, he’d told himself his own twisted version of the truth. He had done everything he could to believe the worst of her and refused to even consider that he had been anything more to her than someone to use.

In that moment, all the disbelief and anger directed at her left him, as the spells surrounding them were ripped away by the passion of their feelings and the sharing of their blood.


Shame and aching regret swam through him as he realized how wrong he’d been to doubt her in the way he had.


For the first time since he appeared in Angel’s office, Spike finally saw the truth behind her actions in Sunnydale. And it turned his world upside down.

Stunned as he was by his sudden inner revelations he didn’t immediately register the changed cadence of her movement.

It wasn’t until she brought his face up and locked her gaze with his that he realized that she had slowed their frantic rush towards release.

Seconds later when she spoke Spike found himself ashamed and humbled in a way that had nothing to do with his soul.


“Oh God Buffy… Buffy luv…. I’m so bloody sorry.” he managed to gasp. Even as he felt with that one simple heartfelt word, the magic of the claim locked into place.

Tears welled and overflowed as her thoughts were opened to him, and Spike found himself sobbing raggedly as the full extent of her emotions were laid open with her surrender.

Angel stepped back, for a moment his brain refused to catch up with his eyes and he stood jaw unhinged and stuttered.

“C-cordy... W-hat…How?”



Cordelia Chase rolled her eyes and sighed in a very familiar way before moving close enough to touch the shocked vampire. Peering intently into his face she reached up and pushed his lower jaw closed with an audible snap. When he immediately opened it to say something else, she huffed wearily and placed her fingers over his mouth.


“Shush Angel, I don’t have a lot of time, and you wanted some answers so just keep it zipped until I’m finished.”


Stepping back, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared hard at him.

Reminding herself that this was not supposed to be personal, she did her best to sort her own swirling emotions as she met his bewildered gaze.

Oh Angel… what am I going to do with you?


Shaking her head, she pushed away her very personal anger and despair, and squared her shoulders for what she knew would be one of the hardest conversations she had ever had.


“Right,” she started, her expression carefully neutral.

“I have been authorized by the powers to give you some of those answers you seem to want so desperately… but”, she said holding her hand up when it seemed as though he was going to interrupt. “I’m warning you now Angel, you are really not going to like them.”

She sighed heavily.

“First off, and let me just preface what I’m about to tell you by saying… What the hell did you think you were doing?” She glared at him.

“You were never supposed to take over Wolfram and Hart and run it the way you did. The powers were testing you and you managed to screw it up in ways that not even I can believe.” Her lips thinned into a disapproving line as she continued. “The right thing to do would have been to turn them down in the first place, or failing that you could have taken over and then looked for a way to cut the senior partners connection to our dimension. Even if only temporarily” she added, easily interpreting his brooding look. “At the very least, it would have given you more time to work out how to take them out permanently.”


Whirling away from him, she unfolded her arms and resisted the urge to hit him right in his glowering face.


“God Angel, how could you possibly be so damn stupid? You had access to the white room and instead of using that access to close the conduit you sat on your big fat… chair and ran their stupid company for them.”



When she turned back to face him, Angel found his rapidly rising temper suddenly cooled by the look of anguish on the former cheerleader’s face.


Trying to think of the best way to explain to her that the way he’d handled things had been the only way possible, Angel reached for her. His sudden need to touch her and make sure he wasn’t dreaming, at war with his anger at her obvious disappointment in him.



As he reached for her Cordelia took a deep breath and stepped back, desperate to avoid any sort of physical contact that could only make what she had to say harder.


“No Angel, let me finish. This is already hard enough for me, just let me tell you the rest and then you can talk.” Her tone was hard but her expression was pleading as she continued to back away.

“You have no idea what you have done and I don’t have time to explain it all to you, so I’m going to tell you what you need to hear and we can go from there… Okay?”



At his hesitant and somewhat annoyed nod she continued.


“Okay here’s the sitch… You’ve fucked up royally, and the powers no longer consider you their champion. As a matter of fact” she admitted grimly “as far as they are concerned, you have by your actions and the signing away of the shanshu prophesy, in fact confirmed that you are most likely going to be the one that brings about the final apocalypse.”



“What the hell do you mean no longer their champion, I’m…”


His angry snarl was cut off in mid tirade as Cordelia’s eyes flashed white and he suddenly found himself speechless… literally.



“As I said”, she continued glaring at the furious vampire. “The powers have lost all faith in you and no longer trust you. You were even sent another champion to help you on your path and instead of embracing the opportunity, allowing his input and acknowledging his unique perspective you belittled and fought with him at every turn. And yeah okay,” she offered at his sour expression “I get that Spike can be a pain in the ass and has a few of his own issues where you’re concerned. But still,” she continued “he did fight for his soul and save the world and yet you treated him like a complete joke.”


Approaching him with a very familiar glitter in her eyes, she poked him in the chest with her index finger.


“Oh and while we’re on the subject,” she snarled out, unable to resist giving in to her own feelings any longer.

“Buffy trusted him enough to wear the amulet and be her champion. Says a lot about the faith and trust you put in the supposed love of your life, doesn’t it big boy? I mean really Angel… grow the hell up why don’t ya.” She spat derisively.

“Buffy chose Spike to wear it, not you, so why don’t you buy a clue and stop living in the land of denial. Love of my life my ass!” she snorted, rolling her eyes as Angel opened his mouth, obviously intending to argue, before remembering he couldn’t.

“Okay” Cordelia muttered, trying to reclaim her calm and get back to the reason she’d been allowed to talk to him in the first place.

“To cut a long story short… I’m here to tell you to get your act together. Thanks to me, you have exactly one last chance to change your destiny.” She warned, her tone deadly serious.

“At the moment, with the way you’ve been acting you’re a hairs breath from becoming your own worst nightmare and I’m sure you don’t want that… do you?”


Folding her arms across her chest, a protective gesture Angel knew well, Cordelia met his eyes with determination.

“Angel, there are things that are about to happen that not even the powers have any control over, and certain decisions made by you that could affect the balance of existence.
If you choose wrong, your soul will be ripped out and Angelus will be the one left running the show. Which, while a whole world of bad all by itself, with the other players in this race, it could just be the reason we lose.”


Reaching for his hand, she continued her tone gentling as she tried to explain.

“When you killed Drogyn you played right into the senior partners hands. The deeper well is without its guard and Illyria’s presence has disturbed the old ones sleep. Without someone to guard the well, it’s only a matter of time before something gets out and if Wolfram and Hart get their way what comes out will only be the start.”




Angel shivered at the look in the former seer’s eyes. He couldn’t remember her ever looking as worried and scared as she did right at this moment, and it shook his faith in ways he wasn’t sure he was ready to examine.


After a moment, she began to speak again and he found his worry overtaken by anger yet again.



“I can’t tell you much more, and I’ve already let slip more than I should. But I can tell you one important thing… that no matter what you think you might want or feel, you have to trust in me.” She pinned him with her gaze.

“Spike and Buffy are very important. Their relationship is possibly the only thing standing between us, and the total destruction of everything on this planet. You must not interfere in any way with what is happening between them, no matter what.”

Seeing the gold of his demon flickering in his eyes Cordelia clenched her fists and looked heavenward.

“Grrrr… why me” she muttered before taking a deep calming breath and facing the vampire again.

“Listen dumbass, cos I’m only gonna say this once. You need to get it through your thick skull that Buffy was never meant for you, and that even if she was, you gave up any rights you may or may not have had the moment you left Sunnydale. She was meant for a champion and you are no longer even in the running for that particular title, let alone on the same path as her… or for that matter Spike.”

Pinning him with a hard stare and emphasizing each word slowly and concisely she continued.

“Leave them alone Angel, or you will lose not only your soul, but in all probability your life and everyone else’s with it… including Buffy’s.”



When his sullen glare only intensified Cordelia Chase grit her teeth and counted to ten.

A moment later her eyes glowed and Angel found himself able to speak.


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





Miles away in the shattered remains of the old A.I headquarters the slayer gripped her lover tighter as she felt the barriers in her heart and mind fall.


Buffy found herself suddenly freed by the emotions she could feel pouring across the link.

She made no attempt to hide or throw up the walls that had been her constant source of protection for nearly all of her adult life. Instead, for the first time she truly opened up and let the man in her arms feel exactly what she felt for him and just how long she’d been feeling it.



Locked within the cradle of her body, Spike trembled with shocked disbelief, as Buffy surrendered all that she was and all that she felt, without one iota of hesitation.


She held nothing back.

Not her confusion at the sudden burst of lust she’d felt the first time they’d met in the alley outside the Bronze. Nor the growing feelings she’d tried to deny when his love for Drusilla was proved at the point of her own stake. Her jealousy of their bond, her realization that Angel would never love her the way Spike loved his sire, and her aching secret wish that she had met him first.

Everything was revealed.

All her regret for the way she had hardened her heart and refused to trust her eyes and her own instincts flowed out across the claim.


Deep down inside she’d known that loving Spike could destroy her in a way that loving Angel couldn’t. All these truths that she had done her best to hide from the both of them, she now gave freely. Buffy gave him every crumb he had ever asked for and asked nothing in return.




His own tears ceased as her emotions swept through him, swamping him in her sadness and regret. He was awed to realize that her sorrow over the loss of Angel was nothing compared to the way she had felt when she had seen him with Anya and realized she had driven him away.

Not even the aching grief she’d felt at the loss of heaven compared to how she felt knowing that her need to protect her heart had likely cost her the one thing she really craved.

He felt her shame over all the times she’d hit him in an attempt to deny what she knew she wanted more than anything.

Then moments later, he reveled in the joy she’d hidden so carefully after he returned from Africa.

And he was shocked at the depth of her pain at the realization of what her rejection in the bathroom had caused him to do.



All her need for him… her yearning was laid bare in a way that left him with no doubt about how she felt.


When he finally knew just what his death in the Hellmouth had meant to her, Spike could barely get his head around the depth of grief and pain that she’d been living with the past year.

For a moment, he forgot that he didn’t need to breathe as he found himself swimming in a lake of pain so deep and wide he couldn’t see the shore.

Angel’s mouth opened, but for the first time in his existence, he found himself lost for words.


Deep inside where the true champion lived, he knew that what Cordelia was saying was nothing more than the truth.




Ever since he’d left Sunnydale, he had known that his life was not on the same road as Buffy’s anymore. Moreover, if he was being honest, until the night he’d given Buffy the amulet, he had been fine with that. Well… mostly.



Buffy, had been his shining light at the end of the long dark tunnel that had been his guilt and remorse. She was the reason he’d fully rejoined the world again, his start at redemption and the first woman he’d ever truly loved.

However, time and distance had taught him that the true worth of a woman was not measured just by the strength of her body or the purpose of her mission. He had learned that even the most unlikely person could be a force for good if they chose to.


Cordelia had taught him that.

She had shown him that true worth lay in what a person did, because it was right, not because some higher power had chosen them for the task.

She fought because she could not know the things she knew without trying to change them. Risking her life for the world wasn’t her calling… but she’d done it anyway.


The selfish and seemingly shallow cheerleader he’d known in Sunnydale had turned into one of the bravest and most selfless people he knew. In fact, it was the changes in Cordelia that showed him that loving Buffy had been as much about his own self-hatred and her calling, as it had been about loving the girl behind the slayer.


He’d loved Buffy despite her faults, most of which he’d done his best to overlook. But he loved Cordelia because of her faults. Even the ones that made him want to shake her until her teeth rattled.

Buffy he’d loved from the moment he’d first set eyes on her outside her school in LA. By the time he had got to know her as a person, his love for her was as firmly entrenched as the need he had for atonement.


Cordelia… well truthfully, back in Sunnydale he had hardly even noticed her, except to note that she was the sort of vain airhead that Angelus would have taken great delight in killing. It wasn’t until she’d started working with Doyle and himself that he saw she was, in fact, far deeper than most people guessed.



The love he felt for Cordelia had been a long time coming and more than a little unexpected. But by the time she had disappeared while he was napping on the bottom of the ocean, he knew that what he felt for her was more real than what he’d ever felt for Buffy.


Then when she’d given birth to Jasmine and slipped into the coma he’d thought she was lost to him forever.




Going back to Sunnydale and seeing Buffy was something he didn’t like to examine too closely.


Even knowing that his heart was no longer Buffy’s, it hadn’t stopped him from reacting to the perceived threat of Spike’s presence. And then too, Buffy took him back to a time in his life when love was simple and uncomplicated.

Sure they couldn’t be together, but there was always that small spark of hope, that possible ‘maybe someday’ nestled deep in the back of his mind. Buffy was safe to love, because how could you loose something you knew you would never really have.



So he had told himself that what he felt for Cordelia was a simple case of ‘if you can’t love the one you want, love the one you’re with’.
He’d convinced himself, after holding Buffy and kissing her, that she was still his soul mate. That the woman that lay in a coma back in LA… was nothing more than a stand in for his real love.

And the sad thing was that up until a few minutes ago, he’d actually believed it.



Now standing in front of her, staring into her annoyed and hurt gaze, he was reminded just why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place and it hit him like a bolt out of the blue, that this was Cordy… his Cordy and she was here… with him.





Cordelia felt the anger and hurt she’d been holding onto slip away as she studied the varied expressions cross the face of the only man she’d ever loved.



His angry expression had at first given way to one of confusion, and if she knew him half as well as she thought she did, shame. It in turn had given way to the look he now wore… a look of pure and dawning wonder.


She bit her lip fiercely, trying hard not to cry as Angel took first one and then a second tentative step towards her.

The joy in his eyes lit his face from the inside and she found herself hard pressed not to sob aloud as her reached out, touching her cheek, as if he was afraid she might disappear at any moment.





Angel felt like he’d been living under an enchantment for the last year. How could he have ever thought that this woman meant less to him than Buffy?


Buffy was a dream, an ideal he’d had when his life had been mired in darkness. But Cordelia Chase had been his best friend and strongest critic. His most loyal supporter and the backbone of his life for so long that he couldn’t imagine what his life might be if he’d never met her.




For the first time since he’d stood by her grave, Angel felt that he could finally see things clearly. And he realized that without Cordelia he might as well just hand his soul over to Wolfram and Hart. After all, he’d unknowingly been doing that very thing from the day she’d left.



Buffy Summers may have guided his feet onto the path of redemption, but it was Cordelia Chase that had kept him on it. Picking him up each time he’d stumbled and threatened to lose his way. No wonder he had fucked up so much in the last year, how could he have possibly done any better when his soul and conscience were buried with her.



His fingers traced the curve of her brow, before bringing his other hand up to cup her cheek, while the first moved to the back of her neck and pulled her towards him.


Lowering his head slowly he watched her eyes flutter closed, the expression on her face unknowingly yearning even as her mouth opened under the soft caress of his.

As his tongue slowly swept across her top lip, she let out a harsh sob, answering his unasked question.



Angel’s world narrowed down to this moment… this woman and his need… his deep desire to let her know just how much of a hole she’d left in his life when she left him.



Pulling her even closer he deepened the kiss, exploring every curve of her mouth, his tongue stroking and caressing hers as her body trembled before melting against him.

With her surrender, Angel felt something he hadn’t known in the longest time… contentment.



No matter what happened, come Apocalypse or high water, he’d find the strength to face anything as long as the woman in his arms was by his side. Some how some way, all issues of her being a higher being and his curse aside, he would find a way for them to stay together this time. He couldn’t lose her again.



Pulling back from her mouth, he stared at her face, the face he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life.


As her eyes opened and met his he felt himself shiver at the look in them.

“God Cordy… I can’t believe you’re here. I thought I’d lost you.”



Leaning down, his brow met hers as he let the words that he’d never said just flow out of him.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured “ I love you Cordelia Chase… don’t you ever leave me alone again.”


Moments later he smelt the salt of her tears and felt her shudder as she bit back a sob.

Pulling back slightly he reached and tilted her chin until her eyes met his.


“Cordy don’t cry… I know that you probably don’t feel the same way but I just couldn’t keep lying to myself… or to you. You don’t have to say anything… I don’t expect anything I just want to….”




“Oh God Angel,” she gasped interrupting his confession “How could you not know… how could you not see?”


She stroked his cheek with one small hand and leaned into him to place a gentle kiss on his lips.


“I was going to tell you that night… the night I disappeared. I’d been so clueless for so long and I wanted to tell you how I felt but then…” she trailed off to kiss him again, her heart flipping in her chest as she felt his tongue reach to meet hers.


Moments or hours later the need to breathe forced her to pull back and take a deep gasping breath.



Her heart was racing and her head was swimming. For a moment she’d forgotten her own name, never mind what she’d been trying to say. Sliding her arms from around his neck, she cupped his face in her hands and locked her gaze in his.


“Angel” she whispered her heart melting at the love she could see in his eyes.

“Oh God Angel… I love you… I’m so sorry I never told you… so sorry.” she murmured her voice breaking as she thought of all the time they had wasted and all the things that might have been different, if she’d only had the courage to stay and face her feelings instead of running away.

“I was scared. Scared that you didn’t feel the same and then there was the whole soul crossed lovers thing with Buffy… And I was just plain scared to death” she admitted, her expression sorrowful and her voice hitching as she looked away.

“I told myself that going with Skip was the right thing to do, that the powers higher purpose was more important than love. God was I wrong.” she said with a bitter laugh.


“I should have trusted in my feelings, I never should have left without at least seeing you and telling you goodbye… If I’d taken just one moment to think and stopped being a big old coward none of this would have happened. God I’m so, so sorry.”


Raising her eyes to his again, she smiled hopefully.

“I Love you Angel and I’m not scared anymore.” She admitted before once again pulling him down and claiming his mouth.




With her words and the heat of her mouth, Angel felt something burst deep down inside him.


All the pain of losing her, losing the others, the guilt he felt over Connor, all of it faded under the joy he felt at her words.


His heart swelled until he thought it might just start to beat again, as for the first time in years Angel was completely happy.




Swamped in the emotions he was feeling, at first he didn’t notice the pain in his chest intensifying. He was so lost in the moment it didn’t occur to him that the pain was anything more than his joy at being with her.


It was only as he felt the pain reach its peak and spread through every cell of his body that he grasped just what was happening to him.

He gasped.



Ripping his mouth away from hers he staggered back, his horrified gaze meeting her puzzled one.



“No” he rasped out. “No. Please God, no.”


Turning from her, he desperately tried to cling to the last remanent of himself, even as he found himself screaming out her name.



“Cordelia… run.”




Cordelia’s hands flew to her mouth as she chocked back a shocked scream.


Seconds later his warning became moot, as the newly unsouled Angelus was ejected from the oracles chamber.

It had taken barely half a minute for Spike to experience every thing she felt for him, but to him it felt like he’d been lost in her memories for days. So when the woman he loved let out a sudden sob Spike found himself doing the only thing he could.


The remaining chain didn't give him a whole lot of room for movement, though fortunately there was just enough for what he had in mind.

Grasping her shoulder with his free hand Spike twisted agilely, managing to roll them both so Buffy lay beneath him.

Yellow eyes of the demon gave way to the vivid blue of the man as he met her tear filled gaze.


“Shh pet I got you” he murmured even as he claimed her mouth.


Shifting his arm so the chain was no longer a hindrance, he used it to pull himself deeper into her body, even as he ran his tongue over her lips begging entrance to the cavern of her mouth.

Moving his hand from her shoulder to caress her upper arm, her mouth opened under his. The distress he could feel through their link slowly melting away under his soothing touch.


The remaining cuff digging harshly into his wrist was a painful reminder of how much he wished that his other hand were free, so he could worship her as he wanted.

Yanking on the chain imprisoning his right arm, he snarled in frustration when it refused his repeated attempts to break it.


Moments later when her tongue met his, he abandoned all efforts to break free. Everything other than the taste of her sweet mouth faded into the background, as he was overwhelmed with his first taste of her in what felt like centuries.


Groaning, he deepened the kiss. Then slowly, he started to move his hips in time with the gentle caress of her mouth.

Gasping into her mouth, his cock sank even deeper into the slayers warmth as her inner muscles clenched around him.


Moving slowly, he caressed her arm with his fingertips, then licking his mark on her neck, he tightened his hold on her arm and deliberately stilled the movement of his hips.

Meeting her eyes with determination, he moved his hand down her body, and then grasping the back of her knee, he moved her leg so it draped over his hip. A suggestive nudge of his hips had her bringing the other up instinctively, her ankles firmly locked together in a well-remembered position.

Satisfied her grip was firm enough and that she was not going to let go, Spike placed both hands flat on the bed above her head and pushed up slowly.

Drawing his legs up until he was on his hands and knees with her wrapped around him, he repositioned them, so the post that the chain attached to was now only inches from the top of Buffy’s head.

Cock still buried inside her, he slowly lowered them both back to the bed, his right hand now able to move much more freely.

He still wasn’t able to touch her quite the way he would of liked, but at least now he could touch her without risking the dislocation of his arm.

He thrust into her shallowly his hips swiveling lazily, even as he braced himself on his still chained arm, his free hand creeping down to lightly caress her neglected clit.

Cock teasingly nudging the pleasure center deep inside her body, Buffy felt her bones turn to liquid.



When he started to stroke her she gasped, her legs releasing him as the gentleness of his touch urged her feet flat to the bed. Pushing up to meet his gentle thrusts she mewled with pained need as her body sought the friction it craved.



Spike pulling back, stilled with just the tip of his length left inside her. The expression on his face tender and knowing as he slowly pushed back inside her, inch by gloriously slow inch.



She whimpered with frustration. Digging her heels into the back of his thighs, she ran her tongue along his upper teeth, deliberately caressing the places where his fangs would be if he were still in game face.

When that failed to increase his pace, she deliberately bit her own tongue and waited for the taste of her blood to get a reaction.



Using every trick in his extensive arsenal to keep things slow and steady Spike concentrated on the fading grief he could still feel through the claim.

He wanted to show her how it should have been all those times back in Sunnydale, he wanted to draw this out and make it last in a way she’d never let him before.

Moments later, he shuddered with barely restrained lust, as he felt her tease his gums with her wicked little tongue. When the taste of her blood hit his own tongue seconds later it was all he could do to keep himself from ramming into her with all the old ferociousness and speed of their former encounters.


“Fuck, Buffy”, he gasped out, pulling his mouth away from hers. “God pet, do you know what you do to me” he groaned, as he buried his face in her neck.

Licking his mark on her neck, he tightened his hold on her arms and deliberately stilled the movement of his hips.

Looking up he met her glittering eyes and then very deliberately sank his cock back into her heat as fast and hard as he could.



Buffy gasped with pleasure, his hard length nudging that spot she was sure only Spike knew about. Only to whimper again with frustration as he once again ceased his movement.


She understood what he was doing, she realized he wanted it to be different, but her body wanted more.

She wanted him hard, fast, and passionate. She wanted the Spike that couldn’t wait one moment more. She wanted the man that touched her as if she was the only thing worth touching and she wanted him now.

More than that, she wanted the man that loved her.



He had claimed her with his body and his fangs, but the man she’d carried here unconscious had been a long way from the one she’d left in the Hellmouth. And he hadn’t said the words... Not the ones she needed to hear.




Spike smirked as he felt her frustration through the claim.

That’s my slayer, always in a hurry he thought, amused by her obvious attempts to get her own way.


A moment later his amusement fled when she growled and once again, he found himself awed by the fact that not only was he inside the woman he loved but she seemed to want him just as much as he wanted her.




When he smirked at her, she couldn’t help herself. It was such a Spike thing to do and even with how much she was in love with him, it still had the power to piss her off like nothing else.


Right then, time to get serious.

Using her internal muscles, she clamped down as she had done earlier. His eyes immediately glazed over and Buffy used the distraction well.

In a mirror of what he had done only minutes before, she rolled and twisted so Spike was now the one laying beneath her.


Grasping both his wrists firmly, she stretched his arms above his head, until she had effectively pinned him to the bed. Then before he could react, she rose up and slammed herself back down on to his cock. Tightening her inner muscles again, she squeezed him hard, while at the same time she rose up until she was poised with just the tip of his length trapped within her, before thrusting down again.

When she felt him buck beneath her and start to meet each thrust, she hissed in delight and quickened her pace.

Satisfied that he was meeting her passion with his own she lowered her mouth to his collarbone, placing open mouthed kisses and small nipping bites as her own need for release grew closer.


Trailing up towards his neck, she lathed her bite mark with her tongue before gently sucking the skin and worrying it with her teeth.


His body arched beneath her, his cock slamming home, making her cry out in pleasure against his throat.



She raised her head and looking deep into his eyes she growled out one word, command implicit in her tone.

“Change.”




Spike found himself gasping for breath he didn’t need as the slayer deliberately ordered his demon to the fore.


Even with everything he had felt from her through the claim, he’d never in his wildest dreams expected her to want this.

He knew she loved him, he could feel it, but for her to ask for what he had been careful to keep hidden, even before the soul, well… it was beyond anything he could have expected.

Back in Sunnydale, she’d made it perfectly clear that nothing was off limits when it came to their shagging, but she’d also made it clear that his other face was not something that she found even remotely attractive. To actually ask him to change…

His demon didn’t need to be asked twice.


Still pistoning his hips, his balls drew up close to his body as his features melted into those of the demon.

Golden eyes met hers as he tried to control the demon and his own frantic desire to cum.


When her hands left his wrists and reached up to map the contours of his game face, Spike finally understood what she was telling him with her actions. What she had wanted from him from the moment her teeth had found his neck.


Falling over the edge, he roared his release even as he turned his head and offered her his throat.


**********

.

Cordelia swore, loudly.

Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!


Glaring upwards, she clenched both fists by her side and attempted to count to ten.

She got to three.


“DOYLE, GET YOUR SPINY TWO FACED BACKSTABBING ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!”



Mentally listing all the painful things she planned to do to him, Cordelia started to pace.


Muttering under her breath about how certain half demons were going to well and truly get their ass handed to them, she shrieked with fright when the object of her ire suddenly appeared right in front of her.


“Don’t do that” she gasped smacking him in the chest with the back of her hand.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack or what” she huffed, embarrassment over her shriek temporarily distracting her from her anger.




Doyle managed to both smirk and look sheepish as he dodged her second open-handed swipe. Dancing back out of range he tensed, as a look he knew better than he liked to admit, settled on her features.


“Cordy me darlin’, your dulcet tones would make the very angels blush wit’ envy. But I’m about thinkin’ that you haven’t called me down here jus ta beat me up,” he said with a quirk of his brow.

“So what’s up me girl? I thought you and the boss man were havin’ ‘the talk’?”



Glancing around Doyle’s eyes swept the oracles chamber in search of their former boss. When he failed to see him and the expression on Cordelia’s face only grew darker, Doyle had the sudden uncomfortable feeling that he might be missing something.

Focusing his attention back on the fuming brunet he frowned.


“Ok so what have ya done with himself? Please don’t be tellin’ me that you let him go without making sure that he knows about the slayer?”

Casting his arm about in a wide sweeping motion, he continued.


“So where is he? I don’t see any dust so I’m thinking that ya didn’t stake him and since we both know how stubborn the big brooder can get, I’m assuming he didn’t just take off?”

Without giving her a chance to answer, he shook his head, his tone loosing the last of its Irish lilt, as it became lecturing.


“C’mon Cordy… You know the powers only let you see him because of Buffy and Spike.
If you’ve screwed this up cos you felt sorry for the big guy then there is gonna be hell to pay… literally.”


His tone softened as he met her strangely blank gaze. “So fess up girl what did ya do to scare soul boy off?”



Cordelia blinked.

“Huh? You’re kidding. Where the hell have you been?” she demanded, her brow furrowed in disbelief.



Doyle flushed guiltily, eyes skittering away from hers; he mumbled something that Cordelia failed to catch.



Scowling, Cordelia rolled her own eyes at his expression. Anger mounting afresh at the Irish messenger for the powers, she reached forward and shoved him in the shoulder, hard.


“God Doyle, you were supposed to be keeping an eye on him. What the hell was so important that you completely missed the fact that Angelus is back and thanks to the stupid security around here, probably snacking on the clueless citizens of LA as we speak?”



Doyle, busy rubbing his abused shoulder, threw a glare her way even as he spoke.

“Jeeze Cor you were with him,” he whined defensively “and there was this cute little Dwanwaria demon down in public relations and one thing led to anoth… Whoa hold up…” he yelped as the last part of her sentence sunk in.

“Did you just say Angelus is back… Please tell me that’s not what you said,” he begged, his expression pleading.



Cordelia just shook her head, her mind already turning to the possible carnage that Angelus could be wreaking while she and Doyle stood arguing.


She groaned. Knowing Angelus one of the first places he was likely to go would be the Hyperion, and Dawn, Willow and Faith wouldn’t realize anything was wrong until it was too late.


Shit.


“Doyle” she barked out, interrupting his mini panic attack in mid stride.

“I’ve got to go.”


Grabbing his shoulders in both hands, she shook him less than gently.

“Listen I don’t have time for the full story. Yes, Angel has lost his soul and I promise I will fill you in on the details later. But right now I gotta go… and you have to find him… before he does something that he will never forgive me for.”




Doyle opened his mouth, but before he could even organize his thoughts, let alone voice them, she was gone.


Throwing his hands up in the air, he used some very creative Braken words to describe Cordelia’s parentage, before running his hands through his hair and grumbling to himself.

“Fine then, I’ll just go off and hunt down the viscous murdering vampire all by myself. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy dyin’ the first time.”


Looking up towards the heavens Doyle scowled.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” he said loudly, tone petulant.

“Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean it aint gonna hurt a second time” he complained a little less loudly as he closed his eyes.


Seconds later Doyle opened them and found himself in an alley in downtown Los Angeles.

Faith was antsy as only a slayer could get. She’d never been much for the planning thing, she was more about the action so sitting around nursing the wounds from hers and Buffy’s earlier fight had only made things worse.

She badly needed to pummel something, but until they could come up with a way of putting all the pieces together, there wasn’t really anyone to pummel. Unless she counted Andrew and she was pretty sure that killing him was not on the menu.


She glanced over at Willow hoping that she at least might have some idea about what they should do next.

Seeing the sudden tightening of the redheads features Faith quirked a brow. She’d spent enough time around Willow to recognize that look. Willow was wearing her resolve face and that meant she’d come up with some sort of a plan and was trying to work out the best way to put it to them.


The tension in her body cycled down a notch as Willow opened her mouth to speak, only to shoot straight through the roof, as moments later she was dazzled by sudden light flooding the room.

Even half blinded and hurting badly from her wounds Faith didn’t think twice before throwing herself between Dawn and the source of the light.

Seconds later when the lights afterimage faded, she found herself gaping at the familiar form of Cordelia.




“Holy fuck!” yelped Dawn.




“You took the words right out of my mouth kid,” muttered Faith, shooting her a quick grin before turning her attention back to the figure in the middle of the lobby.


Eying the former cheerleader warily, she glanced over at Willow to see what she thought of the sudden appearance of someone who was supposed to be very much of the dead.

Faith sniggered.


Willow’s rep as one of the most powerful witch’s in the world would be toast if anyone saw her right about now.

For the first time Faith suddenly understood the term gob smacked, the red head’s mouth kept opening and closing and her eyes were so wide that Faith couldn’t help thinking she looked just like a goldfish.




Cordelia rolled her eyes. God she so didn’t have time for this.

“Ok people, really don’t have time for long explanations” she muttered. “So I’ll just skip to the important parts,” she added, clearing her throat.

“Yes I was dead, still am… sort of. Higher powers yada yada yada . Brought back to help blah blah blah and oh yeah”… she paused taking a deep breath.

“Angel kinda lost his soul and he’s probably on the way to kill you all right at this minute. So” she added “less of the starey and more of the action people”.



When her dramatic announcement got her nothing but blank looks, Cordelia stamped her foot in frustration before throwing her hands up and heading for the weapons stash in the office.

She was halfway to the door before anyone had reacted.




When Cordelia first appeared in the lobby Willow’s first reaction, strangely enough, was amusement.

It figures Cordelia would come back. Wherever she was, she’d probably bitched at them so much that they were glad to be rid of her.

Of course, it was about then that she got a good look at the former cheerleader’s aura.

Whoa… Cordelia always thought she was a higher form of life… who knew?


So caught up in her own thoughts, it took the witch a good thirty seconds for her brain to catch up with her ears.

Hold up… did she just say Angelus is back?


By the time her brain had actually gotten the memo, the former cheerleader was half way across the lobby.


Willow eeped, and immediately flushed with embarrassment at her reaction.

Talk about channeling my inner high school geek she thought disgustedly as she hurried after the brunet.

God, what is it about Cordelia Chase that makes me feel like I never left Sunnydale she wondered distractedly, even as she reached Cordelia’s side.



“Hey Cordy, wait up.” Willow reached out and grabbed the other by the arm, her face scrunched into a worried frown.

“Look… sorry about the out to lunch thing, but it’s been a long night and you were dead and then you weren’t… An-and what’s up with the whole higher being thing anyway?” blurted Willow.

“I mean, sure we heard about the visions and the demon thing, but the last we heard from Angel, you never woke up from the coma and now all of a sudden you appear out of nowhere and tell us Angel’s lost his soul.” Willow shook her head.


“Sorry” she said apologetically “But color me confused, I mean hello… He hasn’t even been gone what,” she glanced at her watch “thirty minutes and you’re telling me he managed to misplace his soul? Then there’s the whole other thing with Buffy and Spike and the fact that I haven’t had any sleep in what seems like days, and….”


She trailed off at Cordelia’s impatient look, flushing again as she realized she had yet again slipped into the old Willow’s pattern of babbling whenever she was nervous.




Cordelia’s expression softened as she noted the look of exhaustion on the witch’s face.

Trying to get her own thoughts in order and at the same time push down the worry that was threatening to choke her, she carefully reached for Willow’s hand.

Slipping her hand into the redheads, she met the others flustered gaze with a serious expression.


“Look Willow If I thought we had time I’d sit down and explain everything.”

She sighed.

“Unfortunately with Angel being sans soul, time is something none of us have the luxury of wasting, so I’m just gonna preface my next action with a heartfelt ‘sorry about that’ and just get on with it.”




Willow frowned. Opening her mouth to ask what the other meant, she was distracted by the sudden brilliant glowing light that engulfed hers and Cordelia’s joined hands.

Seconds later, her eyes widened, and her face paled.




Faith and Dawn had both been watching warily from their earlier positions.



The dark slayer was tense due to Cordelia’s revelation about Angel, but more so because of the fact that she’d never really gotten along with the other girl. Then there was the fact that her slayer sense was tingling in a way that she’d never experienced before.

It was telling her that Cordelia Chase was a whole lot more than the girl she’d been the last time they’d had contact, but at the same time she wasn’t getting the sense of danger she usually got with anything demony. Ergo the tenseness.



Dawn on the other hand wasn’t worried in the slightest. Apart from the fact that by now she was way used to people coming back from the dead, she also had every confidence in Willow’s ability to take care of herself.

So, when Willow and Cordelia’s hands started to glow, her first thought was… ooh pretty followed closely; as Faith swore and bolted from the couch, by… Oh boy… I wouldn’t do that if I were you.


Dawn winced, as moments later Faith seemed to bounce off an invisible barrier.

Of course, that didn’t stop the small snigger from escaping at the comical expression of surprise stamped on the face of the now sprawled Faith.



Glaring at Dawn, Faith rubbed her aching shoulder, and then with as much dignity as she could muster considering her rapidly accumulating injuries, she rose unsteadily to her feet.


By the time she’d managed to get up the glow surrounding the other two was fading, leaving Willow looking far more shaken than Faith would have liked.




Cordelia barely even glanced at the other two, before dropping Willow’s hand and turning back towards her original objective, the office, and the emergency weapons stash.



As Faith made a move to go after her, Willow put a restraining hand on the dark slayers arm. Shaking her head, she drew in a deep breath and headed toward the couch.



Faith wavered; her pride demanded she go after the former A.I member but her common sense and Willow’s actions told her that now was probably a bad time to be picking a fight over a bruised ego… never mind the shoulder.

Shrugging, she followed the redhead.

Slowly easing her wounded body onto the couch, Faith turned her attention to Willow, waiting for the other to speak.

Studying her expression Faith had a very bad feeling that nobody was going to be getting sleep anytime soon.




By the time Willow had finished telling them about Cordelia’s new powers and the vision she’d passed on detailing the loss of Angel’s soul, Faith’s head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool and then set on fire.


How the hell they were they supposed to deal with Angelus on top of everything else, especially with both Buffy and Spike still missing.

She was wounded, Willow was practically running on fumes and most of the remaining junior slayers were either still in the hospital, or had already been reassigned to new posts. The few that were left didn’t have the experience or the skill to face a master vampire of Angelus’ capabilities, even if she had been fit enough to lead them.


“So what now Red? What’s the plan?”




Willow blinked and for a moment Faith was sure she wasn’t going to get an answer, then just as she was about to ask again, Willow stood and beckoned for them to follow.


“Look I had a whole plan,” she threw back over her shoulder “but since the plan mostly hinged on Angel and the stuff he was supposed to pick up, I guess it’s time for a new plan.”

Entering the office, she turned and closed the door as soon as the other two were inside.




Cordelia stood with her back to the door, head down, her attention focussed on something in her hands, she didn’t even acknowledge the others entrance.

The fingertips of her right hand slowly traced the faces of the people in the picture she held.


She remembered when it was taken. It was not long after Fred had first started to join them for their ritual of nightly takeout, and it was the first time she remembered ever seeing her laugh.

Tracing the contours of her friends face, she thought back to that night, remembering how both Gunn and Wes had vied for the damaged girl’s attention, while Angel had complained that the cost of eating so much takeout was going to put them out of business.

She remembered slapping him half-heartedly and telling him that if it got Fred to come out of her room, it was worth the strain on both his wallet and her clothing.

He’d smiled as he watched Fred blush prettily at something Gunn had said before agreeing that… yes it was worth it.

Now they were all gone except for Angel. And he too was gone, but in an entirely different way.

Sighing, she replaced the picture back on the desk and turned to face the others.



Willow looked determined, Faith was scowling, and Dawn just looked tired and worried. But in each of their faces Cordelia could see the one thing that they all had in common.
Resolve.

No matter how tired or worried, or even scared, they would not back down, or shy from what was asked of them.

Each of their lives might have travelled separate paths over the last year. Their friendship, strained by time and distance might have seemed to bend, if not break, but none of that was important in this moment.

The ties forged in Sunnydale were unbreakable. They were all survivors, and even now with the odds stacked against them, not one of them showed the signs of despair that most people would feel in the same situation.

They had survived the Hellmouth and they would survive this.



Cordelia’s smile as she addressed the others was grim, but it was a smile.

Fifteen minutes later the resolve she had seen in each of their faces was cemented. They were tired and worried, but they had a plan. Now all that was left was too see if it worked.

As Spike felt his release wash over him, Buffy’s teeth claimed the unmarked place on his neck that he had offered.

When she’d first bitten him directly over Drusilla’s mark his reaction had been spontaneous and unavoidable.

His demon had immediately seen her bite as an attempt to claim him and though it was what the demon desired more than anything, the part of Spike that was and always would be William had refused to acknowledge the claim.

As much as he had wanted to say the words that would have made him hers for all eternity, there was still a part of him that had held back, afraid that she would not reciprocate.

She already owned his heart, but if he’d given her his soul and she still hadn’t wanted him he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to survive it.

But now, with her thoughts and feelings flowing across the claim, he did what he had wanted to do from the first moment he had realized he was in love with her.

As she gasped out the last of her own pleasured sigh, he offered her the unmarked side of his throat, a gesture of submission, and a statement of intent.


This time when she raised her head from his throat and he took in her face, still flushed from climax, eyes sleepy with sated passion, he was ready.



Her whispered “Mine?” was filled with such longing that he could barely prevent from sobbing himself, even as he answered her claim.

“Yours only, Buffy. Forever and always.”


Seconds later her eyes went wide in surprise when she felt his acceptance of the claim lock into place.



With his acceptance she too found herself lost in memories, both of their shared past and his last lonely year without her.

She was overwhelmed with regret as she saw just how long and how deeply he had loved her.

She had accepted that Spike loved her even before the soul, but now with the connection of the claim in place, she was staggered to realize that his soul had made very little difference to his feelings.


It took what seemed like hours for his memories of their interactions to wash over her, but in fact, it was only seconds. In those few moments she was awed to realize that the man she held in her arms had not only changed his whole existence for her, it had started long before the soul or the chip.

Even in his final moments, before he’d burnt up in the Hellmouth, his love for her was the one certainty that never wavered. His belief in her and his trust so final that even his last words to her had still been all about her.

She was sad but strangely proud to realize that he, in that moment, had truly believed that his denial of her words of love was the one last gift he could give her.

He had honestly believed that her words were said out of gratitude and guilt; he hadn’t blamed her one bit for what he saw as a sop for a dying man. His only thoughts were of her, how he could get her to leave.

As far as he was concerned, his last words had both released her from any obligation she might have felt towards him and gotten her out of the Hellmouth and away from Sunnydale’s destruction. She would live and that was enough for him.


She found herself more than a little angry at Angel’s reaction to Spike’s sudden reappearance in his office. And when his fear of being dragged down to hell was largely ignored by anyone other than Winifred Burkle her anger only intensified.


Swamped by his memories she felt herself teeter from one extreme to another, but through it all, she felt his love and determination. Both focused on one thing, the desire to see her again.

As Spike’s memories progressed, she only grew angrier with Angel while she found herself if possible, falling even more in love with Spike.

Sure he’d snarked and bitched at his grandsire and boy were they gonna be having words about his little peeping tom incident with Fred. But that was just Spike, it was in his nature and the Fred thing aside, she wouldn’t have him any other way.

He may have mocked Angel but she was not surprised that when it came down to it Spike still chose to do the right thing every time.

He’d saved Angel from the necromancer and sacrificed his chance at being corporeal rather than let Fred be hurt. And though he would not have admitted to it under threat of torture, she felt his concern for his grandsire’s alliance with Wolfram and Hart and what it might do to him.


By the time she got to his memory about the box of flash that arrived in the mail she was so choked up that she could barely hold back her tears.

A second later, she was back to being furious, and not just with Angel.


As the rest of his time at Wolfram and Hart flowed through the claim, Buffy found herself angrier than she could ever remember being in her whole life.


The partial shag with Harmony was only the tip of the iceberg and though she was so gonna punch him in the nose for even touching that big breasted ho, it was not Spike that bore the brunt of most of her fury.

Because she was experiencing his thoughts and feelings, not living them as he had, moment-to-moment, Buffy was able to recognize a very obvious and glaring change in her lover’s demeanour.

The claim showed something that Spike could not have realized.

From the moment he’d gotten the box that thrust him back into the land of solid, Spike’s whole guiding motivation had undergone a subtle and very pertinent change.

While ghosty his thoughts had been only of Buffy and Dawn, his need to see them the most important thing in his intangible world.

It seemed that the mail he’d gotten had come with a side order of spell craft, and one of the spells centred on his feelings for the slayer and her sister. The other was an even more subtle spell that blocked him from even considering there was anything abnormal about his changed feelings, or his sudden desire to stay in LA.


Oh, whoever had cast them was good, she’d admit that much.

If he’d suddenly changed his feelings Spike would have noticed, but the first spell was so subtle that to him it just seemed like he was doing what he thought would be best for Buffy. It played on his doubts and insecurities and before long he was convinced that she was better off not knowing that he was back.


By the time Fred became infected by Illyria, the spell and Angel’s taunts had twisted his thinking so much that Giles refusal to help warped his perception to even more new and disturbing levels.

The old Spike would have done his best to talk to Willow himself, no matter what Angel said, but the second spell made sure that it never occurred to him to even try contacting any of the Scoobies himself.

It was a testament to his love for her that he’d even made the trip to Rome.

Once there the spell did even greater damage.


Spike had known the slayer for seven years and loved Buffy the girl for nearly as long. If he’d been in his right mind there was no way he would have been fooled by the blond skank that was running around with the Immortal.

With his vampire senses and more especially his Buffy sense, he should have known without looking that it wasn’t his slayer that he’d glimpsed on the dance floor of the crowded Roman club. But he didn’t.


What was worse, when they had arrived back in LA Spike had somehow not only given up any hope he had that she’d ever loved him but had also, thanks to the spells, come to the conclusion that she had deliberately sacrificed him so her precious Angel wouldn’t die.


Being Spike, one thought led to another mostly bad thought, so by the time the spells had finished their work he was convinced that everything she’d said to him in that last few months in Sunnydale was all about her selfish need to keep him around, just to prop up her ego.

Even her words to him in the Hellmouth had taken on a darker meaning. Now instead of them being an attempt to give him what she thought he deserved, regardless of her feelings, in his mind, it became her attempt at making herself feel better by throwing the dying vampire a bone. After all, it wasn’t like he was gonna survive to call her on it.

The only reason she wasn’t pissed with him to the power of ten right at this moment was that even with the spells manipulation and Angel’s words, even believing it as strongly as he did, it still didn’t change the fact that deep down inside he still loved her.

He didn’t want to and he’d fought against it, but no matter what he thought she’d done or felt, there was a small part of his heart that refused to let her go.


Going into what he’d thought was his last battle with Wolfram and Hart it was his love and pride, that he’d been the one to give her a chance at normal, that had sustained him.

He had died for her, so she could have her normal life and now at the hour of what would most likely be his third death, he would find the strength to do it once more. She’d get to keep her normal, even if it killed him… again.

Of course, he didn’t die and neither did the spells influence.


Faith’s dammed lucky that she kept her grubby hands off my vampire. But I swear if she even looks at him sideways…

Glaring at the vampire still cradled between her thighs Buffy briefly considered forgoing the whole talky thing, the desire to pop him in the nose battling against her joy at having him back.




Spike could feel her reaction to his memories and looking into her suddenly angry gaze he felt a strange mixture of elation and deep-seated fear.

He winced as a very clear image of what she would do to him if he even dared to look in Faith’s direction suddenly appeared in his head.

It wasn’t helped by her sudden intense desire to go for his nose.


Her eyes narrowed and Spike felt himself holding his unneeded breath. Flashes of Harmony spread across a desk and a very wet and naked Fred had him raising his hands and grabbing her wrists before she could act on her feelings.

When her eyes widened he gulped nervously, his expression turning sheepish as he met her outraged stare.


Bollocks… Shoulda figured that braggin’ to Peaches about stickin’ it to the slayer would only come back to bite me in the arse. Bloody hell, we’ve only been mated five bleedin’ minutes and I’m already in the doghouse. Stupid fuckin’ claim. No wonder mating claims are so rare, eternity’s the easy part, it’s the first five minutes you gotta survive.



Who said you’re gonna last that long Spikey?

Her expression changed to one of amusement at Spike’s start of surprise.

Ok, this has possibilities she mused, even as she deliberately sent him the image of himself sleeping on the couch at her apartment back in Florida, along with a self-explanatory, crystal clear picture of a very frosty hell dimension.


“Ha Ha, very funny slayer” he drawled rolling his eyes.

“Well if that’s the way its gonna be luv suppose I best get my moneys worth now” he offered slyly even as he twisted his hips, driving his still hard cock upward and as deep as he could go.


Her grunt and the flash of pleasure he got from the claim had him raising her hands above his head until her upper body lay flush against his. Thrusting slowly, his pelvis ground against her, his cock plunging into her again and again. Her whole body shuddered with pleasure as the friction against her aching clit pushed her closer to the edge.

Despite her previous threats, the feelings and images that flowed across the claim told him without words that the couch was the last place he’d be sleeping when she finally got him home.



Twenty minutes later a very smug vampire curled himself around an equally sated slayer. Exhausted from battle and anxiety, but secure in a way that neither of them had ever been, they both gave into their exhaustion and drifted off to joy filled sleep.




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




Angelus was angrier than he had ever been in his entire existence. And that was saying something considering he’d lived with Spike for twenty years.


When he’d found himself standing in a strange alley in the middle of LA he’d been pissed enough to rip someone’s head off.

Fortunately, the drug addict that had attempted to mug him five minutes later had taken care of that little need.

Slightly calmer after his brief spate of blood soaked violence, Angelus had directed his efforts towards working out just where the fuck he’d been dropped in LA.


After he’d successfully figured out where he was in relation to the Hyperion. His next point of order was to plan out just what he was going to do with the bunch of meddling cunts that were likely already plotting a way to shove his soul back into him.

With the rough form of a plan, Angelus headed towards his next destination. He had a demon to see about a certain spell and particularly nice piece of glassware called a Muo-ping.

Willow rubbed her brow tiredly. She, with the help of Faith and Dawn, had managed to scavenge from the kitchen and office of the Hyperion every last ingredient that might have any spell casting potential. She just hoped it was enough for what she needed to do.


Cordelia had left to collect the ingredients for a truth spell on Andrew. She was also going to pop in on Buffy and Spike and tell them what was going on and that they needed to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

She and Willow had put their heads together and come up with a rudimentary spell of protection for the hotel, just in case Angel returned before Buffy and Spike.

The spell was nowhere near as strong as Willow would have liked and some of the ingredients looked less than fresh, still, she supposed it was better to have some protection than none at all.



Faith meanwhile was busy sharpening the weapons that she’d brought with her. The thought of using them against Angel, even without his soul, bothered her more than she would admit. Nevertheless, she remembered the last time she’d gone up against him and knew that she couldn’t afford to let her guard down in any way.

Angelus would not be coming to the Hyperion to chat; if he arrived, it would be with one goal.

He’d undoubtedly do his best to kill them all, but his main priority would to be to make sure that Willow wasn’t around to re-curse him.

She hoped that Willow and Cordelia’s spell would be enough, but if by some chance it didn’t work she was determined to be ready for him.



Dawn was doing her best to look on the bright side of things. According to Cordelia the Powers That Be were very interested in Buffy and Spike because they were the focus of some dumb old prophesy that nobody had ever heard of.

Dawn didn’t much care about the powers and their stupid prophesies, she was just happy that, according to Cordelia, it meant that they were destined to be together.


As for Angelus… Well she wasn’t a bit worried. With two slayers, a vampire, one kick ass witch and whatever the hell Cordelia was, Angelus didn’t have a hope. In the mood Willow was in, he’d be lucky if he didn’t spend the next few years as a rat.

If you ask me it’d be an improvement. She openly sniggered at the thought.


Her main concern was actually Andrew. It was bugging her to no end that he’d managed to not only fool them into believing he was on their side, but had also cast spells on them that not even Willow had detected.

She’d spent a lot of time with Andrew in the days before Sunnydale fell, and she’d thought she knew him pretty well. The whole evil trio thing aside, he’d seemed more pathetic than anything else. Sure he’d killed Jonathon, but she’d always assumed he’d only done it because the first was controlling him, like it had done with Spike.

To find out that he was one of the bad guys and had been fooling them for god knows how long had her really rattled. She felt like her faithful old dog had suddenly turned on her. Not that she’d ever had a dog, old or otherwise. Stupid allergies. But she was sure this was what it would feel like… maybe…probably.


Stupid Andrew and his stupid evil plans. Typical really, you trust someone and it’s pretty much a given that they were gonna go all evil on you as soon as you weren’t paying attention.


Dawn pouted. Eyes flickering towards the basement, a thoughtful look settled on her features. Throwing a darting look at Willow and Faith, she chewed on her lip nervously, her mind churning with indecision.


Once they did the spell, Andrew was sure to clam up tighter than a shellfish. Sure, they’d probably get the info they needed, but then she’d never know why he really did it. And she needed to know.


He’d lived in her house for months, they’d spent hours together watching dumb movies that she normally wouldn’t have been caught dead watching. For Pete’s sake, they’d bonded over Orlando and the hotness that was him. How lame.

He’d been the only one who’d really understood what it was like to be the younger sibling of someone that was always gonna be more popular and better at everything.
When everyone in the house was too busy, running after or worrying over Buffy, Andrew had been the one that had had time for Dawn.

And yeah it was kinda sad that the only friend she’d had back then was a former evil nerd that nobody much liked. But at least he’d always had time for her, unlike her sister and the others.


What had made him jump back on the bandwagon of evil? He’d seemed genuinely sorry over his past actions with Warren and Jonathon. She thought she’d got to know him pretty well, in those last few months before the big battle. So how the hell had he gone from repentant geek, to evil spell casting minion of the law firm from hell?

Hmm… guess there’s only one way to find out.

Throwing another unobtrusive glance towards the witch and the slayer Dawn edged towards the basement door.

*********

Doyle’s day had started out pretty good, all things considered. Of course, he should have known it wouldn’t last.

“So much for eternal rest” he grumbled to himself. “Messenger for the powers my arse… more like glorified gofer.”


Moving slowly, careful not to make any noise, Doyle peered around the corner of the wall that he’d spent the last five minutes flattened against.

From the spot he’d chosen, he could see the front of the magic shop that Angelus had entered not twenty minutes before.


Doyle was torn. Should he risk discovery by going closer or would it be better to wait and continue following Angelus when he left. Then there was the completely bad feeling he got about Angelus and what he was even doing entering the shop in the first place.

What the hell is our boyo up too? He fidgeted impatiently. C’mon Angelus where the fuck are you?


Just as Doyle decided he’d had enough of the waiting, the object of his thoughts appeared. And he didn’t look happy.


Darting back into the cover of the alley Doyle waited for the vampire to make his move.


Several tense seconds later the shadow of Angelus’s bulk was backlit across the mouth of the alley by a nearby streetlight and Doyle found himself reflexively holding his breath until it passed.

He waited another thirty seconds and then started to follow.



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



Cordelia had instinctively headed towards the closest place she knew to get magical supplies.


Tain’s was a demon run magic shop that catered to both human and demon. Tain himself was harmless, one of the hundreds of breeds of demons that coexisted alongside humans without most people having a clue that he was anything other than he appeared to be.


He’d always reminded Cordelia a little of one of the blue guys from the original Star Trek, except without the antenna. For the sake of his more clueless customers he’d utilized his chameleon like skin abilities to hide his demon nature. But after the first time Angel introduced them Tain had dropped the pretense for his natural color, a lovely shade of cerulean blue. She liked him; he’d always had a warm smile and a cup of tea ready whenever she’d dropped by.

Now however, his skin was ash grey and the bloody gash across his throat was a shocking parody of his usual smile.



Gasping, her eyes darted around the shop looking for his attacker.

When nobody jumped out at her, she moved cautiously towards Tain’s body.



The body was still warm, the blood still flowing. Shuddering, it occurred to her that whoever or whatever had killed him must have only just left.


She frowned as she got a closer look at the wound on his throat. Ripples of apprehension ran across her skin as she recognized them as fang marks from a vampire.


Dread threatened to choke her as she carefully placed her hand on the dead demons forehead.



Flash of Angel entering the store. Fear as Tain realized that something was wrong. Then forward to another flash, this time chock full of terror as Angelus held him dangling off the floor by his throat.

More flashes of the conversation between the vampire and Tain, as Angelus quizzed him about soul spells and … Oh God…

She gasped, pulling her hand back as if bitten.

A Muo-ping… Shit! Angelus was looking for a Muo-ping. Oh God… he’s gonna trap the soul and keep Willow from returning it.



“Shit shit shit. This is bad” Cordelia muttered, wiping her suddenly clammy hands on her dress. Staring unseeingly at the dead demon at her feet, and overcome with a sense of crushing despair she didn’t sense the door swinging open behind her.




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



Dawn closed the door to the basement with a soft snick. Then fumbling around in the dark she searched for the light switch.


It took her what seemed like hours to find it, but there was no way she was stumbling around in Angel’s creepy basement in the dark. Never mind the fact, knowing her luck she’d probably fall down the stairs and break her neck.


Blinking from the sudden light she waited just long enough for her eyes to adjust before descending.

Whoa… when Angel said he had a secure place to put him, he sure as heck wasn’t joking.

And eww… I don’t even wanna know why he has a honkin’ big cage in his basement.


However, looking at it she had to admit it sure as hell made the book cage back at Sunnydale high school look kinda flimsy.



As she got closer, she could see Andrew curled up against the wall at the back of the cage. He looked so sad and pathetic Dawn had to remind herself that if it weren’t for Andrew she and her sister wouldn’t have spent the last year mourning, while Spike and the others danced to Wolfram and Hart’s tune.



“We lost three of the new slayers and they lost Fred, Gun and Wesley” she blurted angrily.

“Why Andrew?... What did you get? What did they promise you? She demanded moving closer to the cage.

A

ndrew refused to meet her eyes, his jaw was swollen and discolored from where she’d kicked him earlier, and even in with the shadows of the bars of the cage striped across him she could see there was similar bruising on his throat.



Hardening her heart and her gaze Dawn clenched the bars in both hands.

“Look at me you worthless pile of crap. You knew that Buffy and I missed Spike, we might have been under your bloody mojo but I remember the conversations I had with you.”

She snarled, and Andrew jerked in fear, visibly reminded of just who had taught her how to ‘take care of herself’.


“You were on the freakin bus Andrew, you saw how devastated Buffy was… and Anya… Anya gave her life up to protect your worthless hide, how the hell could you do that to all of us?”



Dawn was shaking, she was angrier than she ever remembered being. She wanted nothing more than to enter the cage, lock the door so he couldn’t escape, and finish what she’d started upstairs. But the small part of her that had once thought of him as a friend wouldn’t let her… at least not till she got the answers she’d come for.

Taking a deep breath she stepped back and composed herself.



Watching her warily, Andrew shivered with fear as her expression became blankly serene. When his eyes darted up and met hers, he visibly shook with terror. The look in hers was an exact match for the one Spike got when he was at his most deadly.

Dawn scared him at the best of times, but looking at her now, he was abruptly reminded of the fact that this was the slayer’s sister and that her former best friend had been a soulless vampire.


His eyes followed her nervously as without taking her own off him; Dawn reached down and casually pulled a hidden knife from her boot. Straightening up she reached into the back pocket of her jeans and brought her hand forward, the keys to his prison dangling from them.



“You know Andrew” she offered casually as she moved towards the cage door, “I might not know you as well as I thought I did, what with the betrayal and all. But I do know you well enough to know when you’re holding out on me.”


Glancing down at the knife in her hand, she scrunched her brow looking deliberately thoughtful as she spoke her next words, her tone glib.

“You and I spent a lot of time together back in good old Sunnyhell and we both know that even though you can lie like a rug when you have to, your poker face is for shit.”

Running her thumb deliberately along the edge of the blade she smiled before meeting his terrified gaze.

“So here’s what I think. I think that you were pretty honest upstairs. I think you told us the truth… just not all of it. And more importantly I think I want to know why.”



Holding the keys up so he could see them, Dawn pointed the knife in his direction expertly twirling it in one hand, the way Spike had taught her the summer Buffy was gone.

“So here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to tell me what you left out and why you left it out. And then you’re gonna explain to me just why you decided to betray the people that kept your worthless hide alive when the first evil was trying to make you it’s bitch… or… I’m going to come into that cage and show you just how well I can use this knife.”

She smiled again.

“And Andrew… Spike was a very patient and thorough teacher and I was a very quick and gifted learner, so if you’re thinking I don’t have the skills… think again.”



Andrew’s heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, he could feel his terror threatening to overwhelm him. And he was surer than he’d ever been in his life that Dawn Summers meant every word she’d uttered.

Looking at her he hardly recognized the girl he had known in Sunnydale.
This girl was dark, deadly, and much much scarier than her sister had ever been.

Swallowing hard, he scrambled backwards as Dawn reached out and inserted the key into the lock.

Buffy stirred slowly, her body more relaxed than she had felt
in years.

Opening her eyes, she smiled as she recognized the muscled chest against which she was laying.

Glancing upwards, her eyes swept across the face of the vampire who’s arms she rested in and a familiar and delicious warmth bloomed in the pit of her stomach, as she realized that her mate was apparently still fast asleep.

Smirking, an evil grin formed on her lips as it occurred to the newly mated slayer that Spike was a very very deep sleeper.

Moving carefully and doing her best to project calm and sleep like thoughts, the slayer slowly slid down until her intended prey was in sight.


Eyes darting upwards, she carefully and gently maneuvered his legs until she was satisfied that he was positioned correctly for her intended attack.

Stifling the mischievous giggle that threatened to escape, she leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows between his splayed thighs. Licking her lips, she checked to make sure he was still asleep before blowing softly across his balls and still semi hard cock.


Spike twitched and muttered in his sleep but didn’t wake. And as Buffy had hoped, his cock unlike its slumbering owner was quick to get the message. Even as she blew on it a second time; this time in a steady warm exhalation, it swelled and stretched until it lay hard and quivering against his belly.


Buffy squirmed; she had never really looked at Spike’s penis this closely before. Oh sure she’d touched it, and on the rare occasion she’d even sucked it. However, before it had always been about her power over him, her need to shut him up, and her last resort at gaining control.


That year she’d come back, the year of their affair. She had done her best to punish both herself and Spike every time they’d come together. Lost and rudderless in a world that was too harsh and bright, she had sought the darkness the only way she could. She gave her body to a monster, a monster that made her feel alive in a way no one else had ever come close.

The girl inside the slayer had wanted to drown in the forgetfulness that his touch brought, but the slayer that had finally found rest only to have it ripped away, couldn’t forget what he was.

Now studying the body spread out before her Buffy wondered how she had ever thought that he was beneath her.


He was perfection, from the tips of his bleached blond head, down to the feet he used so well in battle. His body, even back then, had been a temptation that she couldn’t resist, no matter how fierce her loathing afterwards. However, it was her recognition of his inner strength and loyalty that had really frightened her.

Soulless evil Spike had kept his promise to a dead woman.

He’d watched over and protected Dawn, fought alongside people that had treated him at best like a convenient tool, and at other times more like the enemy he once was.

His promise alone, had kept him bound to a place that offered him nothing but harsh memories of her rejection and loathing. Love for a woman, one that had made her disgust for his feelings more than clear, had tethered him to a girl who once upon a time he would have destroyed, if only for the pain it would have caused.

He’d given her his strength when she returned, tried desperately to be her friend and when she was unable to accept either… his body to do with as she wished.


His words when he’d tied up Drusilla and herself, prophetic in a way that not even Dru with her sight could have guessed. Drowning in her, he’d said… oh yeah he’d drowned alright. Lost in a sea of passion, the waves of her contempt and self-loathing very nearly drowned both of them.


Of course, in the end it was she, the mighty slayer, which had fled the relationship. Like a rat, fleeing from a sinking ship she had used the first rocky collision as an excuse to jump overboard.


She snorted derisively. Way to go with the maritime metaphor’s there Buff.

Rolling her eyes at her thoughts, Buffy shook herself out of her introspection, once again turning her attention back to her lover, and what he had more than once, crudely referred to as his dangly bits.

Hmm nothing dangly about this, she reflected slyly.


Moving forward and placing a soft kiss at the base of his erection, she resisted the sudden greedy hunger that had her mouth watering in anticipation. Eyes carefully trained on his face she used her hand to tilt him forward. Her mouth traveling up his length, she placed open mouth kisses along his shaft until she reached the weeping head.

Gaze still locked on his face, she rose up on both knees and as gently as possible enveloped the thick head of his cock with her mouth.

Even with as quiet as she was trying to be, she couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped as the taste that was uniquely Spike flooded her mouth. Relaxing her throat muscles, she slowly drew him deeper, the head of his cock butting up against the very back of her throat. When she had him in as deep as she could get him and her gag reflex firmly under control, Buffy bore down and started to swallow.



Spike was having the most incredible, and at the same time what had to be the strangest dream of his very long existence.

A warm mouth surrounded his achingly hard erection, while at the same time he could feel himself moaning in pleasure as he swallowed around the hard length that was nudging the back of his throat. The feeling of being squeezed and stroked, fighting with his visceral desire to taste the spendings of the one he was pleasuring.

He felt both his hips begin to move in the timeless rhythm of the ages and the fierce jolt of desire when the cock he was sucking started to meet each downward stroke of his head. The taste of precum in his mouth pushing him closer to release, even as the increased pace of the mouth around his dick made his eyes roll back in his head.


Seconds later Spike woke with a low snarl. Hips thrusting upwards he lost all sense of self, as he came hard. The sensations of cum filling his mouth as he swallowed, warring with his need to keep thrusting into the warmth surrounding him.

Eyes flying open he took in the wondrous sight of Buffy perched between his legs. The expression of bliss on her face as she swallowed his cock had him teetering on the bridge of a second orgasm even as she’d barely finished drinking down the results of the first.


The feeling that he now recognized as the link caused by the claim washed over him again and Spike roared in satisfaction as he felt the sensation of his own cum flood his mouth for a second time.



Buffy was unprepared for the feelings that inundated her body as their link reconnected.

One minute she was enjoying the sensation and taste of her lover and the next minute she was awash in a type of ecstasy no woman had ever experienced.


She knew on some level that it was Spike’s passion that she was experiencing, but she’d never imagined that a simple head job would feel so good. The heat and tightness of throat muscles gripping her hard, the wet slide of tongue and the scrape of teeth across sensitive flesh… and the tight hot feeling of tension low down in what she realized must be his balls. God, it felt like her soul was trying to escape her body.

The moment she felt him/herself begin to cum, Buffy was caught in a feedback loop of enjoyment so intense she very nearly blacked out.



Their orgasm seemed to go on for hours. Beyond thought, both were immersed under a tsunami of pleasure so exquisite they lost all sense of themselves as individuals.
Sight, taste, touch all of it shared, until neither vampire nor slayer knew where one began and the other left off.


Ecstasy, unlike anything they could have imagined, dissolved the last of the barriers between them. And in that moment of perfection, they found nirvana and a sense of belonging so deep that the only word that fit was… home.



Floating back to awareness minutes later, Spike forgot for a moment he didn’t need to breathe. Sucking in great gulps of air it took him another moment to understand that his reaction was Buffy’s and not his own.


Though the intensity of their connection had faded it didn’t take him long to realize that the link between them was still very much in effect. And it took him even less time to understand that what they had just experienced was a hell of a lot stronger than just a mating claim.


Bleedin Hell, what the fuck was that all about?


Shaking his head as though to clear it, he looked down and studied the woman draped across his thighs.



Buffy moaned, her head was still spinning, probably because she, unlike Spike, still needed to breathe. For a moment there, she had actually forgotten.


Whoa… that was intense. What the hell just happened here?


Looking up hazel eyes met blue, both pair confused and vaguely questioning.


“Well pet, that was interestin’. Don’t think I’ve ever had a head job quite like that.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes only to flinch a moment later when she turned her head and bit the inside of his thigh.


“Oi” he yelped, “what was that for”.


“Cos, you’re a pig.” She offered fondly with a smile.


“Oink, oink, baby. You know you love it when I talk dirty, slayer.” came the smug reply; even as his hand moved to cup her cheek with a tenderness belied by the teasing words.



Buffy took a moment to revel in the sensation of his touch; turning her head, she placed a soft kiss on the palm of his hand before reluctantly pushing herself up into a sitting position.

Brow knitted in thought she met her lovers clear blue eyes.

At his questioning look, she sighed heavily.


“As much as I’d like to just lie here and bask for a decade or so, I think we need to talk about what just happened here?”


He quirked a brow “S’pect you’re right about that luv, just give me a minute to make sure I’m not dreamin’.” He offered, tone teasing.



Despite the lightness of his words, Buffy caught his flicker of worry through the link, and it reminded her that even though they were mated it would probably be good if she actually did the verbal thing.

He had to know how she felt, but she was guessing that there was still a small part of him, that was waiting for the other shoe to drop.


Smiling softly she reached forward and pressed her lips to his. When his mouth opened under hers, she sighed with relief and deepened the kiss.


It wasn’t until she felt that strange feeling of doubling from earlier that she remembered why they still needed to talk.

Pulling back reluctantly she waited for his eyes to open before speaking.


“Spike… are you with me honey?” She asked doubtfully. The dazed look on his face made her want to giggle but she didn’t think laughing at him would be conducive to the mood she was trying to set.



“Huh… what?” he replied vaguely, his eyes still a little unfocused.



Oops, Thought Buffy. I think I broke him. Wow… note to self. Kissing equals blissed out vampire. All those times I couldn’t get him to shut up… who knew? Hey, I wonder if that would work on all vampires?


The sound of low growling directed her attention back to the object of her original thoughts and this time Buffy couldn’t help but giggle at the jealous and annoyed expression on his face.


“Hey, guess you caught that, huh?” she said, her deliberately sheepish expression not enough to hide the amusement in her eyes.



Spike glared, and with a low snarl that had her body tightening in all the right places, he yanked her up and into his arms. Less than a second later she was flat on her back, with a very aroused vampire kissing her like there was no tomorrow.



Oh well, talking is highly overrated. She decided, closely followed by the even more muddled thought. Kissing good… vampire yummy… talk later. Much, much, later.



And that was the last conscious thought that either of them had, as once again their world narrowed down until all that was left was the passion and joy they found in each other.



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



Ever since he’d met the Immortal, Andrew had felt like he was living in a dream. The power he’d had at his fingertips, beyond anything he’d dreamt of back in Sunnydale, and the sheer bliss of being the one in control was more seductive than he could have imagined.



Fooling the almighty Scoobie’s and people in Angel’s little group had seemed a small price to pay for what the Immortal was offering him. And when he’d gotten over his fear that Willow would somehow catch on to what he was doing it had given him a sense of worth that he’d never felt in his whole life.

Always the nerd always the outcast, never wanted or needed just for himself, Andrew had been swept away by the seduction of the Immortals promises. But now looking into the cold eyes of the only person that had ever liked him, Andrew felt despair flood him.


He really hadn’t meant to hurt Dawn. She and Anya had been the only two that were ever kind to him. The others had all treated him at best like an annoyance, and in Buffy’s case, like something unpleasant she’d stepped in.


Spike had either tolerated or ignored him but then Spike treated everyone pretty much the same so Andrew hadn’t let that bother him too much. And as for Willow… well Willow had killed Warren, and Andrew had worshiped Warren.

And it wasn’t like he was stupid, he knew what Warren thought of him, he just didn’t care. Warren was the first person to see Andrew, the first to recognize that there was more to him than just being Tucker’s nerdy little brother. And for that alone Andrew had loved him.



After Warren had died he wanted nothing more than to get revenge on Willow and the others, but when the First had gotten him to kill the only friend he had left Andrew quickly realized that the only way he was going to stay alive was with the Scoobies help.

So he’d put all thoughts of revenge out of his head, and thrown his lot in with the good guys, hoping that if he worked hard enough he might just find a place where he was accepted for himself.


He’d tried so hard back in Sunnydale to be good, to be liked, to be seen as something more than the pathetic loser that had killed his best friend. But no matter what he did or how hard he tried he was still Andrew the killer, Andrew the looser. The guy that nobody even bothered to hate.

Then Giles had sent him to Rome and he’d fallen in love for the first time.


Lonely, depressed and more than a bit resentful he’d gone to a club in one of the ritzier areas. He knew that the mission he’d been sent on was mostly bogus, that Giles had only sent him to get him out of the way. Still, he’d been determined to do his best so he could show the others that he wasn’t the total waste of space that they thought he was.



The mission was simple, he was to locate and observe a being known only as the Immortal. Giles had stressed the fact that he was at no time to engage or interact with his target in any way. That his job was to simply gather intel in the safest possible manner.



Andrew being Andrew decided that he would take a leaf out of the immortal Mr Bond’s book, and proceeded accordingly.


Council credit card clutched in his sweaty palm, Mr Wells; late of London, sought out the finest Italian tailors, shoemakers, and auto dealership. Armed with the patina of affluence he then proceeded to put his master plan into effect.



When he arrived at Club Immortale it was in the carefully prepared guise of the rich playboy jetsetter Andy Wells. Posing as the only son of a rich Californian movie producer, who had come to Rome for nothing more than a very good time, Andrew had thrown himself into the part with a vengeance.


After ordering several bottles of the most expensive champagne which he generously shared with some of the clubs more predatory females he was, as planned, invited up to the private booth of the clubs owner. The Immortal.



Less than thirty minutes after first sitting down his cover was blown, ten minutes after that… well, his cover was not the only thing that got blown.


A day later found Andrew Wells in bed with the Immortal, literally as well as metaphorically. By the time a week had passed, he was fucked in every sense of the word.



In love and desperate to please his lover, Andrew readily agreed to everything his new love asked. It had been ridiculously easy for the Immortal to get him to agree to bespell the Scoobies and the LA crew. All it had taken was the promise of eternity in the arms of someone who loved him. Of course, being the recipient of hundreds of year’s worth of sexual experience hadn’t hurt either.


The immortal had instantly sensed the darkness in Andrew and acted accordingly. Secure in the knowledge of Andrew’s allegiance he had then introduced Andrew to his sister, Illona Costi Bianci, head honcho of none other than Wolfram and Hart.

What Warren had started so long ago was easily finished as Andrew gave up the last spark of his humanity to the minions of the first and greatest evil.


Wrapped up in the passion and love that comes with ones first experience he didn’t care what his lovers plans would do to Dawn or her sister. Blinded by love and the promise of power Andrew had been happy to do whatever was asked of him regardless of the consequences.



Now as Dawn stepped into the cage, carefully locking the door behind her Andrew had a very clear memory of someone once telling him that consequences were a lot like a flock of birds, both always came home to roost.

Doyle had barely left the alleys safety to follow Angelus, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of light.

Very much aware of just who he was shadowing, he quickly flattened himself against the nearest building before looking for the source.

As soon as he detected the faint signature of what he privately liked to refer to as ‘orbing’, emanating from the shop that Angelus had so recently vacated, he knew that there was only one person it could be.


For a moment, he considered ignoring Cordelia’s presence in favor of following Angelus, but he knew that he could pick up his trail easily and finding out what Angelus wanted in Tain’s was probably the smarter idea. Besides which, Cordelia would have a better idea why the vampire might have sought out Tain in the first place.

At least then he’d have some sort of clue as to what was going on in his head… well other than his normal rampaging desire to kill everything he ran across.


He waited another minute or two just to make sure Angelus had left the area and then he crossed the street to the shop.


Pushing the door open slowly he peered into the darkness of the shop looking for Cordelia. As his eyes adjusted to the murky gloom of the darkened interior, he saw her standing a few feet away, a dark crumpled shape at her feet.

Entering the shop fully, Doyle had a very bad feeling that what he was about to see was not something that was gonna improve his day in any way, shape or form.

Moving forward he reached out to touch Cordelia’s arm to get her attention, and that’s when his day went from bad to truly terrible.



Cordelia felt the presence behind her seconds before it connected.

Cursing herself for her stupidity at not paying attention, especially with Angelus’ victim lying dead at her feet, she dropped and swiveled. Shooting her leg out in an upward trajectory, she grunted with satisfaction as it connected with a suspiciously soft and squishy part of her attacker’s anatomy. Moments later a high-pitched shriek let her know that her targeting skills had not atrophied with lack of use.


Darting to the left, she pinpointed her attacker’s position and moved in for the kill.

She’d barely taken two steps when her intended prey let out another yelp, this time in the form of her name.

Frowning she paused. Allrighty then. That had better not be who I think it is.


“Doyle?” she growled questioningly.



When all she got was a grunt in reply she muttered under her breath and moved towards the wheezing figure. Leaning over she conjured a small light that wouldn’t be seen from the street.


“Oh for the love of…” she exclaimed, her expletive trailing off as she got a good look her attacker.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing… you idiot.”

Straightening up she crossed her arms and glared at Doyle, who was still rolling on the floor in obvious pain.


“No don’t answer that, I can see for myself. For god sake, you were supposed to be following Angel not sneaking up on me. Where the hell is he and why aren’t you with him?”


When Doyle failed to answer her Cordelia reached down and hauled him roughly to his feet.

“God, get up you big baby. It’s not like I broke anything… At least not anything you’re gonna be using this century.” She added, smirking at the glare he shot in her direction.
.


“Well excuse me.” He rasped out, the pain in his throbbing balls making it hard for him to think up a witty rejoinder to her usual bitchy comments.


She sniggered.


“C’mon Cordy give us a break, I’ve been on his tail all evenin’.” He groaned. “Its not like I’m gonna lose him. And I thought findin’ out what he was doing in Tain’s was more important. Hell darling’, we both know he’ll be headin’ back to the Hyperion anyhow, so what’s the big deal.”

Wincing, he shot her another glare as he attempted to stand upright.


Cordelia was just about to open her mouth and give him a piece of her mind when an icy shiver ran up her spine.



“Well, well, well, fancy meeting you two here.” a coldly amused voice drawled.



Cordelia whirled, heart leaping into her throat; she took an involuntary step backwards. In the process very nearly tripping over Doyle, who was still attempting to stand.


Leaning casually in the doorway, his bulk blocking out what little light there was from the street, Angelus suddenly seemed much larger than Cordelia remembered.


“What’s the matter Cordy?” he drawled insincerely. “You act like you’re not pleased to see me. Tsk tsk tsk, women” he sighed, directing his next words at the now standing Doyle, “such fickle creatures… don’t you agree my lad? One minute they’re kissin’ a man like he’s the hansom prince an’ the next they’re acting like your some sort of ogre.” He shook his head his tone sardonic.


“C’mon lover… you did such a good job of makin’ me happy earlier, it’d be very ungentlemanly of me not to come a callin’ t’ thank you in person. An’ since you didn’t exactly leave a forwardin’ address…”


There was a blur of motion, Doyle went flying, and Cordelia found herself caught up against the hard body of a game faced Angelus. Her back to his chest, she couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her when his lips brushed her ear as he spoke, his voice low and threatening.


“Well let’s just say… I’ve never been one to leave a lady waitin’. And Cordelia… I’ve been waitin’ for this for a very long time.”


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




Dawn advanced on the trembling form of Andrew. She was doing her best to project her most deadly Spike like vibes, but as she got closer to her intended prey, she was finding it hard not to remember the way he’d always cry at the end of Return of the Jedi.


“So Andrew what’s it gonna be.” She demanded, her tone confrontational. “You going to tell me the rest… or am I gonna start cutting?”


Standing over him watching him quiver in fear, for a second Dawn had a very clear flash of what it must be like to be her sister.


This was what Buffy had to deal with every time she went looking for information. Whether demon, or human like the mayor and Faith, her sister did what she had to do because she was the only one that could.

Even with demons, this kind of thing required a measure of coldness that most normal humans couldn’t have pulled off. Buffy was the slayer, empathy and pity were things that ultimately, would only get her killed.

And so, yeah. Not a slayer, I’m still a Summers and Summers women protect people they love… no matter who the bad guy is.


If she could get information out of Andrew before her sister got back, then as far as she was concerned it would be only of the good. Coz truth spell aside, no one was sure just how strong Andrew’s little friends were, or how far there magic capabilities stretched.

If he could fool all of us for all these months then who’s to say that a truth spell will even work? she rationalized. Even if it does, it’s only gonna be as effective as the questions we ask… and if we don’t ask the right ones….



Gritting her teeth in what she hoped was a menacing smile she reminded herself again that Andrew Wells was the reason her sister had spent the last year in mourning and that he was indirectly responsible for the deaths of at least six other people, three of which were slayers. And she, more than anyone, should know that he was capable of a lot worse.

Huh… what the hell? Dawn frowned. Where the heck did that come from? Startled, she turned the thought over in her mind, trying desperately to pin down the accompanying feeling.

Andrew… something about Andrew. Something I’ve forgotten… from where... from when?

C’mon Dawn think. Why would I think Andrew was capable of doing worse than what he’s already done?


Scrunching her brow the former key stared hard at the pathetic shape huddled against the wall. And all of a sudden it was like a light switched on in her brain.

A light that gave her one hell of a headache and in the process swept the last of the magic generated darkness from her memory.

Dawn blinked once and when her eyes refocused on the form of Andrew Wells, she finally remembered everything.



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




Doyle grunted in pain as he hit the side of Tain’s counter. Winded and half dazed he watched in horror as Angelus grabbed Cordelia.


With his arms around her and her wrists retrained, she didn’t have any chance to fight as the vampire pulled her against his chest.



At his words, Cordelia went rigid in his grasp. Facing in the direction she was, his words a mocking parody of Angel’s earlier sentiment, she felt herself slump in defeat. She’d done this… turned the man she loved into the creature he hated above anything else. And she had absolutely no way to fix it.


For a second Cordelia forgot who and what she was. How far she’d traveled, from spoilt little rich girl to brave woman and now chosen emissary of the powers that be. In the arms of the man she’d unwittingly damned, Cordelia Chase forgot how much more than just a girl she actually was.


As she felt the prick of his fangs against her throat her eyes fluttered shut, all the odds stacked against them washing over her as her blood spilled into his mouth.


Seconds later her eyes flew open, as Angelus bellowed in pain.



Doyle had watched wide eyed as Angelus sank his fangs into Cordelia’s throat. Tensing, he waited for his chance. When it came barely a heartbeat later, Doyle used the vampires pained distraction to make his move.

Throwing himself at the couple, he managed to wrench Cordelia from Angelus’ grasp and did what she’d been too shocked to do… With Cordelia in tow… he got the hell out of there.


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



By the time Dawn arrived in front of Andrew only seconds later, she’d easily managed to push any empathy she might have had for him to the back of her mind.


She knew Andrew better than anyone did. He had gone to a lot of trouble for reasons of his own, and there was no way she could see him cooperating completely, not with magic the only motivator. The others might think he was a joke, but Dawn had seen a side to him that the others hadn’t.


Andrew could be loyal, brave… and cunning beyond belief. He’d told her a lot about his time as part of Warren Mears little gang, a whole lot more than he realized.

As a result, Dawn knew that Andrew, unlike his poor dead friend Jonathon, had the inner hardness of a feral dog. The dog might run, it might even cower, but if you backed it into a corner and it couldn’t see a way past you it would attack, and far more viciously than the meanest junkyard cur. And just like a dog, Andrew would protect the one he thought of as master.

Especially if the master was someone he loved.



Andrew might have lied to himself and others about the first evil tricking him into killing Jonathon by using Warren’s image, but Dawn knew differently. She’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d told her about killing his friend.

There had been a part of Andrew that didn’t care that it wasn’t Warren, it had looked like Warren and said the things that he wanted to hear. And for Andrew that had been more than enough. The First had made him feel important, made him feel powerful and more importantly, it made him feel like he belonged.


Once upon a time she’d really liked him, had felt sorry for him. But unbeknownst to anybody else, the night before the final battle, all that had changed.


The night in question, everybody at Revello Drive had been off doing the things people do, right before they think they’re gonna die. Most of them paired off, and that had left her, Andrew, and the potentials. All of who annoyed her even more than he did.


The girls were scared and antsy and since Buffy and the others were not around to intervene in the pre battle squabbles, by the time she’d broken up the fifth fight of the night Dawn had had enough.

She’d gone out to sit on the back porch intending to get both some air and a side order of peace and quiet, but the porch had already been occupied.


Even now knowing what she knew, there was still a part of her that wished she hadn’t chosen to sit with him that last night, but she had and after that everything had changed.



He’d been seated on the stairs staring at something in his hands and the look on his face had been so sad and strange that Dawn had immediately asked him what was wrong.

It had been a very bad decision.


The photo he’d shown her was one of Warren, Jonathon and himself, taken at the Sci Fi convention where they’d first met. She’d made some lame comment about how happy they had all looked and handed it back to him expecting to hear the usual fanboy geek babble about how cool the day had been. But instead of talking about the convention Andrew had opened his mouth and changed Dawn’s world forever.



Until that night, Andrew had seemed like a mostly harmless more dorky version of Xander. She’d kinda figured from the way he acted around Spike and the whole Orlando thing he had going on, that he was also kinda gay, but just hadn’t realized it yet.
And they’d had that whole younger sibling syndrome thing in common so she thought that maybe she got him in a way that the others didn’t. Turns out… not so much.


By the time Dawn had realized how wrong she’d been it was far too late.


Leaving him sitting on the porch, after making some stupid excuse about getting some rest before the impending death, she’d fled to the bathroom upstairs. Once she had finished throwing up the meager dinner she’d eaten earlier, she’d slumped against the wall in a state of mild shock for at least an hour.

It seemed that Andrew Well’s thought there was a very good chance he was gonna die the next day. So like a prisoner on death row he’d decided that confessing his sins to someone as harmless as Dawn would be the right thing to do.


It wasn’t so much his words that had brought on Dawns state of shock, rather the tone and expression on his face as he spilled them. Up until then she’d thought he was just like her. Boy… she couldn’t have been more wrong.


For the first time in her short life, Dawn had looked into the face of someone she knew and seen pure evil staring back at her. And the worse thing about it was that she wasn’t completely wrong. She and Andrew weren’t all that different, at least not to start with.

For Dawn it was like looking in a mirror. True, a horribly warped and distorted mirror but a mirror nonetheless.

Every horrible petty crime, every wish, envy or thought, all were ones that Dawn herself had entertained at some point in her life. His jealousy, greed and indifference to anyone else’s pain were all things she’d seen in her self, right down to his deep-seated need to be seen… at any cost.


But where Dawn fought against the basest part of her human nature, Andrew had done just the opposite.


Yeah, he felt bad, but not because he was sorry, but because his actions hadn’t gotten him what he’d wanted.

Where Dawn had been disgusted with herself for even having those sort of thoughts, Andrew not only didn’t see anything wrong with how he was, but was actually pretty proud of himself.


Oh he’d tried to come off as sorry, pretended like he was ashamed and guilt ridden, but the expression on his face as he talked about Warren and Jonathon told a different story.

He’d told her every last horrible thing he’d ever done. And when he’d finished, she’d looked into his sweetly remorseful face and known exactly how the child molester or serial killer next door managed to live without ever being discovered.

No one ever suspects the wolf… not all dressed up in sheep’s clothing.


And the most horrible thing of all… Well, if Andrew wasn’t quiet there yet, the potential certainly was.



Dawn had somehow come through the battle and so had Andrew, but a good deal of her innocence had been lost that night on the back steps of her house. She’d learned there were far worse things in the world than vampires and demons, and sometimes they even wore the face of a friend.




Now as she bent down and tilted his chin up with the tip of the knife, all Dawn could think of was the look he couldn’t quiet hide that night on her porch. The satisfaction and pride in his eyes when he’d told her about his best friends death at his own hands. And the way it had made her feel dirty just listening to him. Even worse was his false remorse as he tried to convince Dawn that he was sorry.


After Sunnydale she’d spent months avoiding him, sickened by the thought of ever having called him a friend. Then one day shortly before they’d moved to Florida, Andrew came over and Dawn found herself wondering why they didn’t hang out anymore. From that day on when ever she thought of him it was with mild annoyance and at times, a faint lingering sense of distaste… but that was about it.

Buffy had even commented, more than once, how it was good that Dawn had got over that weird thing she’d had going on with Andrew. But somehow the conversation always seemed to drift to something else.

And now she knew why.



The knife in Dawn’s hand quivered and for a moment she could actually see it plunging into his throat.


He’d done what Tara had once accused Willow of all those years ago, he’d raped their minds, taken their memories and denied them the right to free will. And unlike Willow he wasn’t in the least bit sorry.




Andrew’s heart plummeted in his chest. He’d felt the moment the last of the protective magic broke and looking into the eyes of the girl holding the knife at his throat, Andrew was sure he was going to die.


It was at that moment that Willow came down the stairs.

Spike woke with a start. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was, never mind what he was doing there.

As his sleep addled brain cleared and his memories rushed back he couldn’t stop a delighted grin from forming. Looking down and seeing Buffy’s tousled head resting on his chest only made it wider.


His slayer… no…his mate, was curled up atop his body like a contented kitten. Complete with kitten like snores… and a small puddle pooling on his chest of what he was pretty sure had to be Buffy drool. Moments later she let out a less than ladylike snort. He shook his head in wonder.


That’s my girl. He thought smirking to himself. Shagged out and practically comatose an’ she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.



Running his hands lightly down her back, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that he was still unfortunately chained to the headboard of the bed. A bed, that from the faint scent that still lingered, had once belonged to his ponce of a grandsire.



His inner William wanted to be annoyed that the slayer had brought him to a place that obviously held memories for her of the souled poof. But his demon was too busy rejoicing in the fact that Buffy had not only shagged him nearly senseless in Angel’s bed but she’d also seemed fit to claim him in said bed.


Looking around the room now that he wasn’t so distracted, Spike came to the conclusion that it had been quite a while since Angel had last called the place home. The smell of explosives that he’d detected earlier, along with the dust and rubble led him to believe that wherever they were they would probably be safe from any unexpected guests for a while yet.



Smirking in satisfaction, he returned his attention to the blond that had yet to stir from her deep slumber.

Reluctant as he was to wake her Spike was desperate to get out of the remaining manacle. He had plans for miss Buffy Summers and having limited access to her parts was not part of them.


Lowering his head, he gently nuzzled the top of hers, while his free hand ran lightly along her back until it reached her thigh. Letting out a low purring growl he pulled her already bent leg upwards, carefully shifting his hips until her still damp curls were resting over the base of his rapidly hardening cock.

Another sharp wriggle and a small barely perceptible thrust and he was once again buried inside the woman he loved.


Buffy mumbled in her sleep as Spike started to thrust slowly and deeply into her heated depths. Seconds later she woke, a gasp of pleasure bursting from her lips as Spike deliberately rotated his hips in a way designed to push her over the edge.


He’d only intended to tease her really, but the moment he felt her warmth surround him all thoughts of getting unchained had been shelved, as the sheer wonder of their reunion hit home.


Buffy found herself frantically pushing back against her mate’s long slow thrusts, her brain still half-asleep while her body was awake and aching in a way that she never thought she would ever feel again.

Nearly lost again in their connection, she was beyond startled when her eyes fluttered open, only to see Cordelia Chase and the vaguely familiar figure of the man supporting her appear, seemingly out of thin air.



Spike, focused on Buffy and their combined pleasure found himself rudely pulled back to the present, her startled shriek the first indication he had that they were no longer alone.



“What the bleedin’ fuck…” he snarled as Buffy scrambled for the abandoned covers in an attempt to retain some of her flustered dignity.



“God my eyes! Gahh..” wailed Cordelia. She whipped her head around to bury it in Doyle’s chest even as she slapped him on the arm.

“Jeeze Doyle… warn a girl why don’t ya.” She complained, glaring up at the wide-eyed half demon.

When he failed to react apart from one rather large gulp and a slight hitch in his breathing she rolled her eyes and smacked him again, this time slightly harder.


“Doyle… Doyle…hey doofus”, she said in exasperation. “I just narrowly escaped being a vamp snack so you might wanna focus on something other than Buffy’s nakedness, unless you’re looking to get bitten as well.” Her words brought the memory of Angelus’s attack back to her and she shuddered at the thought of what had nearly happened.



Spike, who had been busy doing up his jeans and handing Buffy her clothes, took a careful step forward, deliberately placing himself between his mate and the two unexpected visitors.


“Right then. You… cheerleader… mind tellin’ me what the bloody hell you’re doing here? And while you’re at it how the bleedin’ fuck you even knew where we were?”


Scowling, Spike studied the two, the sheepish expressions on their faces only serving to piss him off even more than their unexpected appearance.


“Oi cheerleader” he snapped, his eyes widening as a couple of belated realizations hit. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead? And you mate… You’re that mick that worked for Peaches… also dead if I’m remeberin’ right.”

He frowned.

“So… anyone care to explain, before I start rippin’ heads off or what?”




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




Angelus roared in both pain and fury.

Staggering forward he crashed into the counter of the darkened shop. Groping along the edge of it, the pain in his mouth and throat threatened to overwhelm him as he staggered towards the curtained off section that led to Tain’s living quarters.


By the time he found the small kitchen sink and managed to get his mouth under the faucet he felt like his tongue had melted into slag.

Gulping down cool mouthfuls off water, he cursed himself for being so fucking stupid.

He should have just snapped Cordelia’s neck and ripped Doyle’s heart out while he had the chance. Fuckin’ higher beings… figures her blood would be toxic to the likes of him.


As the pain started to subside Angelus found himself suddenly tired in a way he’d never felt before. With it, came a sense of helpless anger that was foreign to the sadistic vampire that had once been one quarter of the scourge of Europe.


First Tain not only fails to have what he wants but actually manages to fuckin’ die without telling him where he can get his hands on it, and then he nearly gets incinerated from the inside out by snacking on that Cordelia bitch’s blood.

Could his day get any worse?



He’d been so smug when he’d first picked up Doyle’s scent, realizing that Cordelia had undoubtedly sent her little watchdog to keep tabs on him. That when he’d become aware, only minutes after he’d finished with Tain, that Doyle was no longer following him. He couldn’t resist the chance to catch the former seer alone.

And when he’d found that Cordelia was within striking distance he hadn’t stopped to think.


Angel loved the fucking bitch even more than he’d loved the slayer. The chance to destroy something that Angel had loved was irresistible to the creature that had spent what seemed like centuries trapped beneath the yoke of the soul.

The fact that there was a certain sneaking admiration on the demon’s part for the woman his better half loved, also lent a hefty measure of viciousness to his desire to destroy her.



Angelus prided himself on the fact that he had never in his entire existence cared for anyone more than he cared for his own hide.

Not even Darla his sire had rated more than fleeting affection. Most of which had more to do with the sire bond than anything else.

The fact that his demon admired the sometimes bitchy and determined Miss Chase, even for a second, had Angelus shaken more than he cared to admit.

Now he was reaping the benefits of his haste.

It was going to take him days to heal from the damage a few sips of her blood had done and he hadn’t even managed to hurt her, let alone kill her.

God what the hell was it with that woman?

She was a vain airhead who should have been vampire fodder years ago. But instead she somehow managed to survive not only the Hellmouth but also years of being his souled self’s sidekick. Not even giving birth to a corrupt goddess had managed to take her out permanently. And now she was some sort of higher being that he couldn’t even bite?


And why the fuck am I letting the bitch get to me like this. So I can’t drain her… there are lots of ways to skin a cat.


He shook his head trying to clear it from both his thoughts and the pain of his burns.



Angelus’s demon shifted restlessly, the thought of Cordelia’s bared throat and her whimper of fear stirring feelings that were foreign to a creature that lived for nothing but others misery.


The problem, which Angelus had yet to become aware off, was that the demon had spent years locked within Angel. Trapped and held at bay by the soul, the one constant thing in its universe had been Cordelia Chase.


Sure, Angelus and Angel were two sides of a very different coin; Angelus was what was left of a man called Liam and the vampire demon combined.

Borne the night Darla brought him over, Liam the drunken wastrel, united with the power of the demon had become Angelus. However the demon alone, without the man’s desire and needs to drive it, was not the same being. And that was the crunch.


Ever since Angel had taken up residence in LA the demon had shared its quarters with Angel, and unbeknownst to Angelus that was where his yet to be revealed troubles had started.

Because Angel was an amalgamation of the soul and the demon, without realizing it, the demon had slowly but surely started to change, evolving beyond what it had been when it had first taken its host.


In actual fact it wasn’t the demon that made Angelus the animal he was.

The creature that had rampaged by Darla’s side was what was left of the man, the remnants of his humanity powered by the demon but unchecked by the guilt or pity that was the soul’s purveyor.

And, since the demon experienced everything its host lived through, most of what it had experienced in the last few years had been through the eyes of Angel and consequently at the side of Cordelia.


Angelus had no way of knowing but the soul had started to have a similar effect on his demon to what the chip had had on Spike’s.

Without the soul people were food, plain and simple, but with it they, or rather one particular person, had become something else. Cordelia had become, in the demon’s eyes… his.


Angelus may have had no capacity for love, but unfortunately for him the demon was a very different entity.


Now as he licked his wounds and plotted his next move, the demon, for the first time in its existence, found itself not in total accord with its host’s wishes.


Angelus saw her as an enemy to be bested but the demon saw her as something more.

Somewhere along the line Cordelia Chase had become, in it’s eyes… a fitting mate.


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




Willow had only just finished setting up the circle and ingredients for the spell when she became aware that Dawn was missing.


Brow scrunched into a frown but not overly concerned, she scanned the lobby before turning to Faith.

“Hey Faith, do you know where Dawn went?”


Faith looked up from the stake she was whittling.

“Na Red, she was here before. Maybe she went to the bathroom.”


At the look on Willow’s face, she sighed wearily and got to her feet.

“Right… I’ll take the bathroom and upstairs, you get down here and the basement.”


“Sorry” offered Willow apologetically “I’m probably just being a nervous nelly but with Angelus on the loose, well… its Dawn…”

“Say no more.” drawled Faith, interrupting her. “I do seem to remember half pint spending a whole lotta time being the kidnapee to Buffy’s rescue ranger. Wouldn’t want B to get back and find out we lost little sis”.

She headed up the stairs.

“Give us a shout if you find anything.” she threw back over her shoulder.




Ten minutes later, when she had yet to find Dawn in any of the ground floor rooms Willow found herself glaring at the basement door.

“Oh you so better not be doing what I think you are doing, missy.” she muttered as she pushed the door open


She had barely taken three steps downwards before her suspicions were confirmed by the sight of Dawn standing over the cowering shape of Andrew.


Rushing the rest of the way down the stairs heart in her throat, Willow gasped when she finally got a good look at what Dawn was up to.

She blinked hard, her mind refusing to believe what her eyes were telling her.


Here she was thinking that she might have to rescue Dawn from Andrew and instead it looked like Andrew who was the one that might need to be rescued.

Goddess, what the frilly heck does she think she’s doing… And since when does Dawnie carry a knife?



Willow moved cautiously towards the cage, her eyes never leaving the chilling sight of Dawn and the knife at Andrew’s throat.


Willow was at the door of the cage before she realized that Dawn was so caught up in what she was doing that she wasn’t even aware of her presence.


She paused for a moment, the chilling sight of the terror on Andrew’s face flashing her back to Sunnydale and the night she had killed Warren.

Frozen with her own memories and indecision, she gradually became aware of the fact that Dawn was talking to him. Listening to the other girl’s words, she shivered in recognition.

The anger and hatred in Dawn’s voice familiar to Willow in ways she could barely associate with the sweet girl that she knew.



“You piece of filth,” snarled Dawn. “I should kill you right now and save the others the bother.”

The knife in her hand quivered, her barely suppressed rage making her hand tremble. “You’re a nothing but a fucking rapist and cold blooded killer… just like Warren. You don’t deserve to live anymore than he did.”


At his flinch, she smiled coldly before continuing. “But I’m afraid, unfortunately for you… I’m not gonna let you off that lightly.”



Trying to control the anger that threatened to overtake her, she paused to draw in a deep shuddering breath.


“Anya wasted her life saving you and I won’t let her life have so little meaning. She died in agony and you owe her… you owe us. So understand this Andrew Wells, I’m not going to kill you.” she promised “but I guarantee by the time I finish with you you’re gonna really wish I had.”



Gritting her teeth, Dawn fought back the tears that threatened to flow.

She wanted to hurt him the way he had hurt them, she wanted Andrew to suffer the way Angel’s crew had suffered. But even with the rage burning through her, she still found herself balking at actually carrying out her threat.


If I do this… does that make me just like him? God, I wish Spike was here.


Picturing Spike and just how god damn scary he could be, when needed, Dawn reminded herself that even with a soul Spike wouldn’t hesitate to do what needed to be done.


I can do this she thought. I have to do this.



Determination rose in her as she remembered all the times her sister and Spike had saved her over the years. All the times they’d had to do stuff that they didn’t want to do.

And as her determination rose so did something else, the girl in Dawn taking a step back to make room for the power of the key, its presence erasing the last of the girl’s pity.

Her anger, fear, and reservations quieted as she studied the cowering form of Andrew.

When she finally spoke, her emotions were firmly under control, her inner self, detached from the part of her doing the talking.


“You Andrew, are going to pay in blood for every death you’ve caused, intentional or not.” Pressing the blade against his throat she jerked it just enough to make him jump and to start the blood flowing.

“And then, if you’re a good boy and tell me everything I want to know, I might decide to put you out of you’re misery.” she offered, the cold smile on her face underlining her words.



Andrew quivered. Heart pounding in his chest as he felt the first cut of the knife, he pushed back against the wall in sheer terror.

Eyes skittering away from hers, he fervently wished he’d never come back to LA.


As she continued Andrew cowered, the realization that there was a very real chance that he was going to die washing over him with a clarity that his earlier fear had lacked. Blinking rapidly in fright, her next words only served to heighten his growing terror.



“At least what I do to you will be far quicker than you deserve.”


Eyes glittering with some unnamed emotion she leaned down, until she was barely inches away from his face.

“Then again… maybe I’ll take a leaf out of Willow’s book” she mused thoughtfully.

“Hey… if you’re real lucky, I might even let you pick the way you go out.


Meeting his terrified gaze, she let her words sink in before tapping the index finger of her free hand against her chin in contemplation.

“Hmm… Let’s see… wonder which you’d prefer?”


With a deliberately distracted air, she ran the knife back up his throat, until the tip of the blade rested just under his chin.


“They tell me it took hours for Illyria to take over Fred’s body… hours of dying slowly, inch by inch, while a god liquefied her internal organs.”

Using the knife, she forced his head back until his fear filled gaze met hers.

“Then there’s Wesley. His death was quicker, but I’m sure it didn’t feel like it when Valan was taking him apart magically.”

She dug the blade in threateningly, watching dispassionately as blood welled in the fresh wound.

“Or, how about Gunn? He bled for ages before that Fyarl demon finished him off. Of course, having your arms and legs ripped off while you are still alive has to be painful… or so I’d imagine,” she offered, her expression hardening.

“And then there’s the slayers…”


Shaking her head she pursed her mouth thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so...”


Her tone and demeanor turned falsely apologetic as she stared into his eyes.

“Sorry Andy boy… as far as your choices go? I’m afraid… well… the slayers are pretty much out of the running. After all, they died far too cleanly for the likes of you. I for one think you deserve so much more pain than that.”


Slowly drawing the knife through the blood running down his throat, Dawn smiled in satisfaction, as the tears he had been holding back finally started to fall.

Reaching down she grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head back.


“So Andrew… lets get started shall we. I’ve drawn first blood… so now it’s your turn to tell me something. And it better be good, coz if it isn’t what I want to hear the next cut is going to be way more painful.”

Buffy was embarrassed. But worse than that, she was embarrassed in front of Cordelia Chase. She was also understandably agitated for exactly the same reasons that had Spike doing his best big bad impersonation.


The two people in front of her were supposed to be dead, and yet here they were. Coincidentally, in the last place she remembered seeing them alive.

Ok, get it together Buff, you can do the blushy thing later.


Doing up the last of her buttons on her shirt, Buffy moved to Spike’s side. Placing a restraining hand on his arm, she turned her attention to the other couple.

Taking note of the still glazed look on Doyle’s face, she rolled her eyes, trying not to blush as she met his gaze.

When his eyes dipped down to the arms crossed over her chest she frowned.


“Hey there mister…that better be the time your so interested in, coz if it’s not my watch you’re staring at, we are so gonna have a problem.”

She smirked as his eyes instantly flew back to hers, his complexion, even in the low light of the room, notably redder.


“So like Spike said, care to do the explainy thing before we do the jump to conclusion thing?” she asked, her voice dangerously quiet.



Cordelia turned to face them, her own eye roll more than a match for Buffy’s earlier one.

“Same old Buffy I see…punch first, questions…” she shrugged “well…not so much”.


“Oi you stupid bint, don’t be talkin’ to my girl like that less you wanna end up with more than the sharp side of m’ tongue.” shot Spike. The scowl on his face making an already nervous Doyle step back reflexively.


“Yeah right, like that’s gonna scare me after the day I’ve had.” offered Cordelia with a snort. “Look, as much as I’d love to stand around and explain…not” She rolled her eyes again “I think it would be easier if we did the whole revelation thing back at the Hyperion. And before you start…don’t”.

She smiled sweetly. “I’m me and he’s Doyle and that’s all you’re getting until you haul ass back to the hotel.”


The smile slipped away and she sighed heavily; the twin glares being directed her way, making her already strained patience verge on the losing of it side.

“Look, sorry guys, but some very big stuff is happening and I don’t have time to hold your hands while I explain. So I’m gonna say bye-bye now and get my ass back to the others, before anyone else gets bitten”. The last said with a pointed glare in Doyle’s direction.


Then before either Buffy or Spike could open their mouths to get a word out, she disappeared as silently as she’d come.

Doyle tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugged helplessly with a ‘what can you do’ expression, and promptly followed her example.


“Ok, what the hell just happened?” Buffy demanded. “God is it me” she muttered “or is Cordelia actually a bigger bitch now than when she was alive?”

She met Spike’s amused gaze. “And hey, there’s a question I never thought I’d ask” she said, with a grin of her own.

“Dunno Pet, can’t say I know the bint well enough to judge.” He smirked. “Guess hangin’ around Peaches mighta magnified it some, His Broodiness always seemed to have that effect on the women in his life…least while the ones I know” he offered slyly.

“Yeah well…hey…watch it you,” Buffy threatened with a faux glare “or when we get home bitchiness is all you’re gonna be getting”.


Spike’s smirk widened even as he pulled her into his arms. “S’ alright luv, I happen to like bitchy Buffy.” he drawled suggestively, his expression knowing.

“Pig” she muttered, pulling his head down until his mouth hovered just over hers.

“Oink oink kitten…y’ know…” His smug response was cut short moments later, as Buffy reached up and pressed her mouth to his.

Pulling away far sooner than he would have liked, she smiled up at him lazily.

“Hmm…knew that would shut you up.”


Attempting to move her back towards the bed he mumbled bemusedly “Wha’s that pet?”


“Oh, no you don’t mister. We need to get going.” Gently maneuvering herself free of his embrace Buffy licked her lips as she met his lust filled gaze.

“Cordelia’s bitchyness aside,” she stepped back putting some distance between them. “I left Dawn at the hotel, along with the others. One of who worked some pretty powerful mojo to keep us all apart. Besides, the whole being caught by Cordelia thing has pretty much killed the mood for me, so…”


Eyes searching the room she smiled at him as she spotted what she’d been looking for. Two quick strides later and she was stooping to pick up Spike’s discarded coat.

Turning back to him, she searched the pockets of the coat until she found what she was looking for.


“I think we better get both our lazy butts back to base so we can find out what’s the what. Here, catch.” she ordered throwing him the key she’d retrieved from his duster.


Spike’s hand reached out and plucked it from the air with barely a glance, his still heated gaze focused on the woman before him.


“What?” she asked when he continued to stare. Holding up the key he cocked a questioning eyebrow.

“Ok” she admitted with a sheepish grin. “I mighta sorta forgot to mention that when we did the claimy thing earlier…” She blushed as his eyes darkened with the reminder of their earlier passion. “I kinda got total recall back.”


“Hmm you did, did you?” he drawled. “So pet, when were you planning on unchainin’ me?”


“Oh I’m sure I would have got around to it…sometime.” she replied airily as she moved back towards him, her hips swaying.

“But…I seem to remember having other things on my mind at the time…and it’s not like you were handicapped or anything. As a matter of fact, I think chains make you extra creative.” she murmured, reaching out to run one finger across his still chained wrist.


Pulling her towards him lightning fast Spike let out a low snarl. Gripping her by both of her upper arms, their lower bodies connected in a way that left her in no doubt of the meaning behind his next words.

“This isn’t over Slayer. An’ next time luv…you’re the one that’s gonna be all tied up, yeah?”


Head swooping down he captured her lips, his mouth caressing hers so skillfully that Buffy was instantly on fire with her need for him.


“God Spike” she gasped as she pulled back to take a breath. “Do you know just how much I love you? How much I missed you…” her eyes teared up as she met his gaze.

“I thought I’d lost you…forever.” she admitted. Her voice hitched in remembered pain. “I-I can’t believe you’re here…with me. That I get a second chance”.


Spike’s gaze softened. The love and pain in her eyes an abrupt reminder of just what he’d done to her by allowing his own insecurities to over rule his natural desires.


“M’ sorry luv, I shoulda let you know…I was a bloody fool,” he murmured apologetically, pulling her closer.

“Bleedin’ hell Buffy, when I think of how close I came to never seein’ you again?” He shook his head.

“Don’t know what I was thinkin’ pet, s’ not like me to be such wimp. Maybe the soul makes a vamp extra broody or somthin’? Who knows?”

He reached up to stroke a tear away with his thumb.


“Don’t cry sweetheart, s’over and look at us. You’re mine and I’m yours, an’ nothing and no one is ever gonna keep us apart again. Least, not if I have any say in it”.

Resting his forehead against hers, he concentrated briefly and opened the claim.
His next words were intentionally formal as he looked into her eyes and spoke.


“I promise you Buffy Summers, that as long as I’m on this earth nothing will ever come between us. Blood of my blood, heart of my heart…we are joined forever. You are my reason for being, slayer, and if I have to fight heaven itself, not even death will keep me from your side”.



Buffy could feel his determination flow through the claim. The words that he spoke both heartening her and sending a shiver down her spine. She knew without him telling her that the promise he’d just made was more than a lover’s. It sent ripples across the claim, the echoes of his words striking a chord of deeper truth inside her soul.

Without being told, she understood that the vow he’d just made was as important as the actual claim. The words linked them in a way that had everything and nothing to do with the fact that they were mated.


Staring back into his still solemn face, she smiled softly.


“Forever then, because there is no way I’m ever going back to heaven without you. I’ve lived in a world where you weren’t…I’m not doing it again.”

She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Besides…all the heaven I want is right here,” she murmured leaning in to kiss him.


The kiss was surprisingly sweet and gentle, neither of them feeling the urge to take it any further. Both of them content to bask in the rightness of finally being together.





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





Willow swallowed hard against the sudden desire she had to throw up. She was trembling with shock at Dawn’s actions.

Fuck…Well…Fuck

Trying to form a coherent thought, she kept coming up empty.


If someone had told her that Dawn was capable of the vicious coldness she had just seen, she would never have believed it. She didn’t think that even Buffy at her most primal would have been capable of pulling off the level of scary that Dawn had just exhibited.
And even with what he’d done to them over the last year Willow couldn’t understand what had motivated the absolute hatred in Dawn’s voice.


Sure, he deserved to be punished and Willow had actually thought of some rather interesting ways she could implement that punishment, but surprisingly none of them involved his actual death.


To her, Andrew was just a very weak minded boy that had yet again made the mistake of choosing the wrong side. There was no way she could picture him being bad enough to warrant the absolute loathing she just heard Dawn dish out.

She was pretty angry with him upstairs, but a kick in the face is a long way from torture. What the hell should I do? She wouldn’t really…

Her thoughts slid to a screeching halt as Andrew started to speak.


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


Angelus groaned in pain as he levered himself to his feet. The pain in his mouth and throat had lessened but he knew that without blood it would be days before it went away completely.


Getting up he swayed wearily. Though he’d only been back a short while, he felt like he’d been awake for days. Angel had fought a fierce battle against the armies of Wolfram and Hart, and then spent the better part of the last two nights assisting in the cleanup.

Angelus now found himself paying the price for Angel’s single mindedness, his body felt like it was on the verge of collapse.


Leaving Tain’s his first thought was to head straight to the Hyperion, but after crossing the road and traveling barely three blocks he realized that going up against Willow in the condition he was in would be tantamount to suicide.

Cursing, he changed direction and headed towards the nearest demon bar.

He needed blood and rest and then he needed to find a way to get his hands on a mou- ping.


Four bars later his throat felt much better but he’d been unable to find anyone that could point him in the direction of another magical supplier. To his disgust, it seemed that Angel was not someone that the demon community wanted to cross.


As he left the latest bar, Angelus was in the sort of mood that in days of old had made even Darla nervous.

He was in a foul temper. Not even ripping the head of a particularly unhelpful chaos demon had brightened his mood, and he really hated chaos demons.


Angelus may have been the scourge of Europe once upon a time: a feared and respected predator. However, that was then, before the soul had turned him into Angel.

Not one demon he’d come across tonight was willing to risk pissing off his alter ego. The ones that had hung around long enough to recognize that he was no longer one of the good guys, were not about to risk their hides as long as there was even a chance that Angel might come back. It seemed that Angel was just as feared by demons and humans as Angelus had ever been. The Chaos demon had said as much, right before he’d parted company with his own head.

Therefore, that meant the only person that knew how to get their hands on a mou-ping was the one person that was guaranteed not to help.


Fucking hell… Cordelia fucking Chase. Why the hell does everything lead back to her?

Fine...if that is the way it has to be, then I will just have to find some way to get her cooperation, willing or not.


Angelus frowned. The memory of the searing pain of Cordelia’s blood making him growl in frustration, as it occurred to him that torturing her would now be out of the question, at least the bloody kind that he preferred.


Pissed and disheartened he turned his thoughts to finding somewhere to shelter from the approaching dawn. He needed a place that no one would think to look for him, a place that demons would give a wide berth. Somewhere to rest and to plan.


Angelus smiled. Oh yeah… why the hell not. It would be the last place Cordelia would expect me to go.

Decision made, he changed direction and headed for the burnt out former headquarters of Angel Investigations.