CHAPTER ONE
Xander and Buffy watched for any kind of supernatural activity that night, just as they always had since the petite blonde had answered her calling as the Vampire Slayer. For her part, Buffy wished that she could enjoy Valentine's Day once more.

**Damn Angel for making me feel like crapola! **She thought impetuously.

Buffy sat on a gravestone and continued her thoughts. **I so want him to pay!**

Her attractive lips curled into a frown as she decided that she officially hated Angel. Before, when he'd given her the brush off after their night of passion--well, make that night of losing her virginity, since Angel didn't show too much passion while they made love—she had been numb, shocked, and depressed after that. Now, though, she knew that she hated him, and all of his kind, just like Spike.

**Whoa!** She told herself mentally. **Spike?! Now I've got him on the brain, and after he tried with the major league killing? I've so got to get my head...**

Buffy stopped her ruminations when she became aware of a hand waving in front of her face: Xander's.

"Hello, ground control to Major Buffy!" Xander was shouting. Buffy snapped back to where she was and what she was doing.

"Huh?" she asked. "Sorry, Xand. I was just thinking about...slaying. Yep, I was thinking of the slayage and slayer-y things."

"Well, how about giving me a little floor, or cemetery space? I was asking you what you thought about this?" Xander asked, holding a silver trinket in front of her. Buffy gave it a good look, then pointed to the heart.

"Does she know what one of these is?" she asked. Xander looked disgusted, and beyond that, frustrated.

"Okay, big yuks. When are you guys gonna let me off the hook and stop teasing me about dating Cordelia?" he asked.

"How about never?" Buffy responded with a question. She looked to the left and to the right. She also concentrated on her spider sense, but there was nothing she could feel.

"There are lots of girls," she told Xander, trying to be positive. "I just think you could find someone better."

"Better than Cordelia?" Xander asked incredulously. "Maybe in an alternate universe, but here, I'm only interested in two people, and one of them is not available."

Buffy got Xander's point. She knew that he had lusted after her; well, maybe that was too strong a word, but he certainly liked her more than just a friend. To his credit though, he had respected her wish to be with Angel.

She thought about the good vamp turned evil yet again, and how since losing his soul, he had ruined everyone's lives. The Slayer then thought how nice it would have been for him to give her a Valentine's Day present. Knowing him, he might give her one, and not of the good variety but very much of the eww.

Xander was rambling on. "Besides, Cordy and I are getting along. We're not fighting as much, and yesterday, we just sat together and enjoyed comfortable silence," he told her. "Dull, but progress, right?"

"Right," Buffy agreed. "And that's why you shouldn't stress about the gift. She'll love it and there'll be smoochies all around."

Xander had a worried look as he responded, "Sure hope so. I mean, most of my Valentine's day gifts have restraining orders right after. I just wish my dating score card could be like slaying. Just kick 'em hard and stake 'em good. No fuss, no muss."

Buffy reiterated, "Don't worry She'll love it. So says the Slayer."

Before either of them commented, a vampire rose from the grave near the one she sat on, knocking Xander down as he came up. The Slayer kicked him against another larger headstone. When he got back up, the newly risen revenant ran right into her stake.

"Beg to disagree with you, Xand," Buffy said as they walked out of the cemetery. "I think slaying's a whole lot worse."

"Well, obviously, you've never dated Cordelia," Xander said wryly.

The next morning at school, Buffy opened her locker and got out her books for Miss Beekman's class. Willow stood by her and, seeing the look on her face, was concerned.

"I mean, I just can't stop thinking about us," the blonde told her best friend. "And I can't help thinking that I've gotten the short end of the stick and he took off with my long end. I just want to take the stick away from him and stab him with it."

"Well, Buffy, maybe he's done being all evil and he'll come back to you," Willow said cheerfully. "Valentine's day is a day for lovers, and Angel might think twice about harming you and all."

"Uh-huh," Buffy said not convinced, "because killing Theresa last week and turning her into a vampire to send me a message was just a one-time thing."

"Well...maybe he won't," Willow said sheepishly. Both girls started walking toward Miss Beekman's class as the red headed girl tried again.

"Maybe you'll find another guy," she offered.

"I'd have to be looking for one to find one," Buffy said matter-of-factly, "and I'm so not with the lookage."

"So, if one came up to you and he was cute in a non-grrr..." Willow held up her hands and arms like claws then put them down again, "...sort of way, you wouldn't even introduce yourself?"

Buffy was thinking about cute guys all of a sudden. For a split second, none came to mind. Suddenly, unbidden, her thoughts inexplicably flew to a peroxide vampire with sexy, blue eyes, a snotty attitude, and a Cockney accent. She let her mind drift for a moment, picturing his lips on hers as their tongues fought for dominance. The Slayer shook away her thoughts. What in heaven's name was wrong with her?

XXXXXXXXXXX

A brunette beauty was having similar thoughts as she walked into the school wearing her Louis Vitton dress. Cordelia Chase was wondering what had possessed her to start dating the disaster that was Alexander Harris.

Forget that those two had absolutely nothing in common, except for their make-out fests. Forget that he was so not the kind of guy that one took home to one's richer-than-God parents. Why was she even letting him hang around her air space when she could have any boy she wanted?

Her friends, the Cordettes, were only too happy to reiterate and punctuate that point. Ever since Cordelia had started dating Xander they'd only been too happy to rub her face in it. This morning, though, they had sunk to new lows. They came through the same gate not behind her like they always had but several feet in front of her as though she was a virus they desperately didn't want to catch.

Cordy ran before them, shouting teasingly, "Hey! Where's the fire?"

Her friend, Harmony Kendall, gave a big show of noticing her for the first time. "Oh, it's you," she said almost disdainfully. "I didn't see you."

**Yeah, right,** Cordy thought, **if you didn't see me, then you need contacts!**

"Why didn't you give me the buzz on what you're all wearing for the dance at the Bronze tonight? I'm wearing red and black, the two power colors, so you'll have to wear something of the understated," Cordy told her friends.

"Oh," one of the Cordettes said snidely, "is that what your geek boyfriend likes?"

Cordelia didn't have to hear his name to know who they were talking about. "What's Xander got to do with this?" she asked, sticking her face out just a little and putting her hands on her hips.

"Well, you probably want to wear matching outfits so that you can be spotted easily in a crowd," Harmony joked, adding, "Mr. and Mrs. Puke!" The other girls tittered.

Cordy was stunned. Sure, she knew her friends wouldn't welcome Xander with welcome arms, but she didn't think it could be this bad! The dark haired girl let them walk on and went to her locker to check on her mascara. She couldn't afford to let them see how hurt she was. She had to do something, and fast. As she rounded the corner to Miss Beekman's classroom, Cordelia decided on her course of action and hoped it was the right one.

XXXXXXXX

The classroom was abuzz with talking about Valentine's day and what everyone was getting from their prospective partners. Some boys talked about getting nookie later; some talked about scoring even more than that. Girls showed their little presents or said how their boyfriends were gonna give them something great at the dance.

Buffy and Willow took their seats on either side of Amy, a deep blonde haired girl that the Slayer had befriended last year.

Willow waved at Amy, greeting, "Hey, Amy! How's it going?"

Amy smiled and waved back. She had always liked Willow. "Hey," she said. "Are you guys gonna be at the dance at the Bronze? It's gonna be fun, I can feel it."

Buffy looked across at Willow. The redhead was grinning from ear-to-ear. "Go ahead," Buffy told her, "you know you wanna say it."

"My boyfriend's in the band," Willow said proudly, "so yeah, I'll be there!"

"Coolness!" Amy said. "How about you?"

"Well..." Buffy said, "I was thinking about seeing who's available. You know, I'm too young to be tied down. Besides, Valentine's day is just a gimmick to sell cards and chocolates!"

Amy saw right through Buffy's slight tirade. "Bad breakup huh?" she inquired.

Buffy nodded, answering, "Believe me when I say, uh-huh."

She pictured feeding Angel some poisoned chocolates, or, since he didn't eat them, some tainted blood and watching him writhe in pain before turning to dust. The Slayer stole a look at Amy, thinking, **too bad I can't get her to help me.**

Another part of Buffy was egging her on, making her dream about the possibilities. Maybe a spell that would make the evil vampire see what he'd truly missed. It would be like a cheap movie, or something.

"Buffy," Angel would say in his deep voice as they embraced each other, "I'm sorry. I just want you back! I know it took awhile, and I know I can never completely regain your trust, but I'll do anything to prove myself to you...".

Before Buffy could continue her fantasy, the teacher said, "Okay, class, let's settle down. Now, about the papers on verbs and syntax: anyone who doesn't hand me one at the end of this period is looking at a failing grade. Trust me when I say that this will have incalculable consequences on your going into the next grade."

She fixed all of her students with a pointed look before continuing.

"I believe we were discussing present and past participles..." she said, writing on the blackboard.

The period droned on before the bell for the next class rang. Xander and half of the class woke up, earning a droll look from Miss Beekman.

She held her hand out expectantly for all of the papers, saying, "Hopefully this batch will be better than the first sets were during our first weeks together. If not, well..." she smiled evilly, "...there's always the test on word origins coming up later this year."

The students groaned, handing in their papers as Xander murmured at his desk that his paper was an upgrade from an "F" to a "D-plus".

Willow had handed in her paper and left; Amy got up and stood behind Xander; Buffy bringing up the rear.
Xander handed in his paper to Miss Beekman, who said, "I sure hope you've done better on this one, Mr. Harris."

Xander smirked, saying earnestly, "I think I can guarantee I've reached new mediocre heights this time."

The English teacher sighed softly, then turned her fat head toward Buffy and Amy, who were the last two students. Miss Beekman held out her hand for Amy's essay, but the deep blonde haired girl stared at her. Buffy watched as a blank look crossed the rotund woman's features, then she smiled as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Thank you, Amy," she said, accepting a handful of air instead of a paper. Buffy looked nonchalant as Amy promptly walked out of the class. The Slayer gave the teacher her paper and hurried to catch up to Xander and Willow.

"Hey, did you guys see Amy work some witch stuff on Miss Beekman?" Buffy asked. She clutched her books close to her chest. "To quote my Mom, 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree'."

"No, we didn't see that," Xander responded. He wondered aloud, "maybe I could use that on me and Cordy's love life."

"Can you say 'amateur psycho's daughter'?" Willow shrieked. She lowered her voice when other students started staring and said lowly but dramatically, "Amy shouldn't really be messing with that stuff! I'd hate to think if she kept doing that and it became an addictive thing!"

"Maybe we should talk to Giles or something," Xander suggested.

"About our love lives?" Buffy asked. "I don't think so." Xander gave her a look.

Before Buffy or anyone said anything more, Rupert Giles emerged from the library, his face buried in a book. He glanced up at the three students and, as usual, wore a pensive expression.

"Buffy, may I have a word?" he asked.

Buffy shrugged, saying, "You may have a sentence, even."

Giles smiled haltingly at the Slayer's sense of humor. "Yes, well, I have something of great import..." he said, almost reaching his library.

Across the way, Jenny Calendar emerged from the computer room. She bumped into him on purpose.
"Rupert," she greeted, her dark eyes looking at the British man expectantly.

"Miss Calendar," Giles greeted perfunctorily.

He saw that she wore a pretty floral dress which brought out the darkness of her hair. She had also worn a perfume he favored; a scent of jasmine and honey. The librarian and Watcher forced himself to forget all of that and tried to see her for what she was: a betrayer of a young Slayer's dreams; a person who sold a formerly good vampire down the river. His eyes grew slightly misty as he thought about what they could have shared this Valentine's day, but then the ice crept into them.

"Rupert..." she began again, not daring to put a friendly hand anywhere on his person, "I was hoping we could talk about something."

Giles looked back at Buffy, saying, "Not just now. I have duties which command my attention at the moment."

Jenny's eyes were a little moist. She banked down her sadness, saying, "Yes, well, I guess I'll see you around."

She didn't wait for Giles' response before walking back into the computer room. Giles walked into the library; Buffy bringing up his rear looking back at the space Miss Calendar had vacated lest she come back.

When she did return briefly to see him go further away from her, the petite blonde glared at Jenny and crossed her arms. The older woman walked back into her room. Buffy walked into the library, leaving Xander and Willow looking between both rooms, each undecided whether to follow the Slayer and her Watcher or the Computer Teacher. Both friends decided to follow Buffy and Giles to see if there was any Earth shattering news.

"Buffy..." Giles began. Buffy's face had concern all over it.

"Are you doin' okay?" she asked the Englishman. Giles nodded.

"I'm fine," Giles tried to reassure her. "I'm always fine. It's you that I'm concerned about."

Buffy forced a smile, saying, "I'm fine, too." She pointed to her teeth, saying, "See...with the pearly whites? So what's the what? Is it Angel?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Giles responded, whipping out a red handkerchief and cleaning his glasses with it. "Ever since he reverted back to evil I have tried to read up on his past activities. I can say with no fear of repudiation that if the Olympic games had a category for making victims suffer, Angel would win a gold medal for his uniqueness."

Giles continued before anyone said anything, "He has a disturbing trend, especially around Valentine's day...".

"I wonder how he is around the Christmas holiday?" Xander asked, earning a glare from Giles.

"No matter the occasion, he likes to send what he terms brutal displays of affection," Giles went on. "To that end, Buffy, I think you should remain inside, at least for a few days."

The tension in the library thickened by several degrees as everyone contemplated what the evil Angelus' next move would be.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The factory held a special type of charm for vampires residing there. There was a garden, several rooms which could be converted, and the windows, while big, were also high so that one could easily put thick curtains or some other sunlight blocking substance on them.

There was also plenty of room for King sized beds where a vampire could screw his significant other for hours. Unfortunately, that's just what Angelus did with Drusilla.

Spike wheeled around the room, angrily cursing whatever gods there were about Angel's return. He and Dru had been doing so well; then, the git had to throw in with them. The platinum blond revenant slammed a fist down on the table as Dru entered the room. He couldn't wait to pay Angelus back for messing on a daily basis with what was Spike's once he could walk again.

**Oh, yeah, you soddin' wanker,** Spike mentally promised, **you're gonna get yours, grand-sire or no grand-sire!**

"William's cross," Drusilla pronounced in that singsong of hers. She held Miss Edith close up to Spike's face, saying, "Bad Prince. Miss Edith doesn't like it when her mummy's knight in shining armor won't smile."

"Shut it, Dru!" Spike snapped.

Drusilla put the doll back on her bed and mewled softly. The platinum haired blond was instantly contrite. He reached behind him and pulled out an ornate velvet box.

"Sorry, pet," Spike said honestly. **This will fix it,** he mentally promised himself.

He experienced a moment's hesitation before giving the box to Drusilla. The former William the Bloody wanted Dru to like his gift so much that he thought he would throw himself on the Slayer's stake if she didn't.

**The Slayer...** Spike thought, picturing Buffy as she kicked and sliced through the air before staking some hapless vampire. It seemed he was thinking about her more and more these days, and he didn't like where his thoughts were going.

He forced himself to picture Dru instead; her long, dark hair bathed with moonlight; her pale breasts coaxing him to touch them in that sensitive spot she had.

He opened the box, asking, "Fancy it, pet?"

Inside lay a necklace of gold in the shape of a bat, with garnets making the top sparkle, and onyx decorating the bottom.

Drusilla was happy. She looked down at Spike, commenting, "ohh...it sparkles, like your eyes."

Spike smiled a superior grin, happy that he'd hit paydirt. "Nothin' but the best for my girl," he declared.

Drusilla presented her back to him and crouched so that he would be able to put on the necklace. Before Spike could put it on however, an object sailed through the air and landed on top of the velvet box.

Angelus strode boldly into the room, mirking. "Well," he said, "I see fun-on-wheels has finally emerged from his nap." Spike met his eyes with an angry stare.

"We were havin' a PRIVATE moment," the former poet said forcefully. "Do you mind?"

Angelus reached down and grabbed the necklace from the table. He put it around Dru's neck, murmuring, "Cute gift. I was trying to think of the best way I could show my devotion to you too, Dru. Then I got an inspiration: I wanted to give you my heart; well, actually, the heart that I found in a shop girl. But it's the thought that counts, eh, Dru?"

All three vampire's eyes flew to the heart on the table. Spike's lips curled with disgust. Dru was salivating, saying, "Ohh, Angel...it's warm."

"Yeah, nothing but the best for you, Dru," he repeated Spike's line with a touch of sarcasm.

Spike was seething at the way Angelus had turned his sentiments inside out. How dare he mess with Dru. How DARE he give Spike's Dark Princess a gift like that! If the platinum blond had color running in his pale face like a human's, Spike would have turned red as he showed his fury.

**The Slayer would have appreciated a trinket like that!** His traitorous mind supplied.

Spike let his mind go for a moment, wondering what the petite girl's body would be like in the moonlight had her clothes been removed. He saw her golden hair caressed by the silver rays and imagined running his fingers through her curls as they bounced back under his touch. Then he thought of another set of curls he wanted to run his digits through.

Spike groaned as he felt himself get hard. Angelus laughed as he caught a whiff of Spike's ever increasing desire. "Don't worry, Willy, m' boy," he jeered, fingering Dru's raven locks as he misinterpreted the reason for Spike's sexual craving. "I'll make sure that Dru's taken care of."

Drusilla reached out a hand to Spike, whose head flinched away from her touch. "Daddy deserves our respect, my William."

"For what?!" Spike roared. "For keepin' li'l miss Barbie doll alive, an' not killin' her?" He clapped slowly, mocking, "Well, hip, hip fucking hurray! You should be tearin' her lungs out, not lettin' her remain in the world of the livin'."

Angelus looked down at Spike and grabbed his face in a vice like grip so that the younger vampire was forced to stare at him. "For a former bard, you don't seem to grasp the flowery symmetry of leaving the best possible present for your girl," the dark haired vamp told Spike.

"How 'bout a sword in her gut?" Spike suggested, his temper getting more and more riled with each passing second. "Or, are you a coward when it comes to expressin' yourself?"

Drusilla's eyes flew to her childe. "You shouldn't say such things," Dru cautioned. "Daddy's always right."

Her eyes strayed to the heart, not giving the necklace any more thought.

"After all," she said, "Angel always knows what speaks to a girl's heart."

With that, the elder vamp picked up Drusilla and carried her to his bedroom. Spike looked down at the heart and, spying a dagger on the table, stabbed the offending thing with the knife. Fighting off angry tears, the blond rolled off toward his own room.

XXXXXXXXX

The Bronze was especially festive looking that night. The curtains on stage were a faded red, and banners were hanging from the ceiling declaring that it was the "Valentine's Day Dance".

On the stage, Dingoes-ate-my-baby was getting ready to thrill all of the students who were arriving in record numbers. Stock music was piping in, and teens of all ages were already dancing.

Xander and Willow were sitting at a small table in the center of the crowded club, their diet cokes side-by-side. The boy was fidgeting with his box.

"How long does it take for someone to show up?" he asked Willow.

The redhead was swaying back and forth to the music. When Oz, her boyfriend, and his band started playing and singing, she rocked back and forth even more. Her smile grew by leaps and bounds.

Xander tapped Willow, querying in a loud voice, "Where the hell is she shopping for her dress, Kuwait?"

Willow regarded Xander, then joked, "No, not likely. This is Cordelia we're talking about. She probably shopped in Paris or Milan for her gown!"

Xander stared at Willow, but his best friend since kindergarten just slipped back into her hypnotized-by-Oz-and-his-great-music mode. "I think I'm a groupie," she declared proudly.

The dark haired boy went back to being nervous as he stared down at the box on the table.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, Buffy and her mother were staring at a romantic flick on the television. It wasn't the movie that made them look with glassy eyed expressions at the kiss starved lovers on the screen however. It was the Malomars, popcorn, chips with dip, and all other junk foods known to man that they'd stuffed themselves sick with that were making them look like drug addicts.

"Buffy," Joyce Summers, Buffy's mother, requested, "pass me some more Malomars."

Though she would feel gross by sunrise, Buffy was trying out for the "let's see how quickly I can get sick from overeating" contest. From the rumblings in her tummy, she knew she would be the winner. When her daughter groaned, Joyce grabbed the Malomars and placed one on her tongue.

They settled way down in the plush couch, touching and massaging their bellies. Just as they were drifting off to sleep, the doorbell rang. Buffy pushed herself off of the sofa.

The doorbell rang again as Buffy shouted, "I'm coming! Jeez, give a girl a chance to get there!"

She hobbled over to the front door and opened it. The Slayer was greeted only by the blowing wind. She poked her head outside the door, but saw no one.

Buffy frowned, muttering, "That's strange." She honed her superior senses, but could see no one. Backing up, Buffy bumped into her mother. The Chosen One instinctively moved into a fighting position, and crouched.

"Buffy," Joyce said. The Slayer turned around, relaxing when she saw that it was only her mother.

Joyce said, "I checked the back door. Someone sent some flowers. I put them in the kitchen on the table." They both walked into the kitchen. Buffy saw a white box with a black ribbon tied around it.

Her mother smiled, saying, "I think these are for you."

Buffy had to hand it to her mom. She was right on the money. The Killer of Vampires and Demons opened the box very cautiously. Both teen and older woman peered into the box. Inside were at least twelve red roses resting on top of green tissue paper. In the middle of the flowers was a card.

Joyce picked it up, looking for a sign of who could have sent the roses, but there was no signature on the back of the card.

Her mother shook her head, saying, "Maybe he forgot to identify himself." She went into the living room to call the florist, leaving her daughter and the creepy roses alone.

Buffy couldn't tear her eyes off of the box as she stared at the single word in the middle of the tiny, ivory colored card. "Soon," it said, written in her ex-boyfriend's handwriting.

**Oh, yeah,** she decided, **for scaring me and leaving something at my mother's home, he is going to pay big time!**

Joyce was finishing on the phone, reporting, "Oh, there you are, honey! I just called Patterson Florist. They said that the young man who left the card left his number. You want it?"

"Sure," Buffy said as happily as she could manage so that her mother wouldn't suspect anything.

When Joyce handed her a card that read, A. Gellus, and a phone number on it, Buffy accepted it and put it in her back pocket, saying, "A study partner of mine. Maybe we could dance at the Bronze later."

**We'll dance, Angelus** Buffy mentally promised, patting the stake in her jeans' pocket. **It's a Latin number called, el stake-o the vampire-o!**

"Mom," she said, "I think I know where he'll be tonight, and I would love to thank him for the flowers. Is it all right if I go to the Bronze as long as I don't stay too late?"

Joyce said, "Sure, honey. But I want you home by eleven tonight, Valentine's day celebration or no Valentine's day celebration."

XXXXXXXXX

By the time Buffy reached the Bronze, Willow and Oz were dancing while he took a quick music break, and Xander and Cordelia were talking intimately at a table.

"Hey, Buffy," one boy said.

"Hey," Buffy greeted, waving.

"You okay?" he asked. "I heard about your break up. Some guy who was a history tutor?"

Buffy stared at the boy before asking, "Where did you hear that?"

Before she could receive an answer, another teen, this one a girl was looking at her.

"Say, aren't you the girl who was dating that tall hunk about two weeks ago, you know, the one with the pronounced forehead?" a girl wanted to know.

Buffy didn't answer as she made her way through the night club. Somehow, somewhere, she had to find out who was spreading these horrible rumors...well, non-rumors about her and Angel.

She saw Xander and Cordelia fighting, and, despite herself, heard her male friend say, "News flash: a good day to break up with someone is any other day but Valentine's day!!"

Cordelia was trying to apologize. "I know, this is terrible to do to someone. I really didn't mean to do it like this, especially since you look so good and you gave me such a great gift..." the leader of the Cordettes said sheepishly.

Xander walked off in a huff, saying, "Go to hell!" Cordelia was getting angry.

"Not before you!" she bit back.

"Xander!" Buffy cried as he stalked past her.

"Not now!" he shouted, leaving the Bronze.

Buffy wanted to follow to say something, anything to her hurt friend, but she sensed something in the club. She moved throughout the club toward the back. It wasn't until she reached there that she saw the vampire who was handing out small programs. Buffy took one and looked at it.

Resembling a headline in a newspaper, the program read, "Buffy Summers has been dumped before Valentine's day and has NO ONE!! How will she deal?"

A picture of her was on the program; not a grainy one, but one in perfect, glaring detail. There was, of course, no picture of Angel on it. She wondered if vampires even photographed. Probably, they didn't.

Grabbing the vamp before he could pass out any more poisonous literature, Buffy jerked him into the alley at the back of the Bronze. She slammed him into the wall, channeling all of her anger and frustration to beating the vampire to a pulp before dusting him.

"Where did you get these?" she roared. The vampire, though bloodied, smiled maliciously.

"Got them yesterday from Angelus!" he said proudly. "He told me to pass them out at the Bronze, but only on Valentine's day!" Her hands felt for her stake inside her pants' pocket.

"Yeah?" Buffy said, her stake concealed behind her back. "Well...here's a Valentine's day gift for you!"

She let the stake fly and slew the revenant with it.
The Slayer's cell phone rang. Buffy answered it. "Who is this?" she snapped.

"Aww, is that any way to greet your former boyfriend?" Angelus' mocking voice came over the line. "Didn't you like my Valentine's day gift? You know, it's always nice to clear the air and tell the truth, don't you think?" He laughed.

"Truth is: I've got a present in my pocket that's just your size," she said, gripping the stake so tightly in her clenched fist that she thought it would snap.
"Why don't you come down here and try it on?" she asked.

"No can do, Buff," Angel said over the receiver.

XXXXXXXXXXX

At the mansion, he lay on top of his black sheets with Drusilla nuzzling his ear. "I have other matters to attend to," he said formally. "But don't worry; we'll get together soon. You have my sincerest promise!" He hung up before Buffy could say anything and kissed Dru.

In his room, Spike pulled his headphones over his head. He'd tried to play the Sex Pistols at the loudest possible level to drown out the sounds of his grand poofy sire and Dru shagging each other, but try as he might, he couldn't keep from hearing them completely.

He reached over to his nightstand for his pack of cigarettes and lit up. Maybe, if he was lucky, the room would catch fire, and Angelus would run inside and as payment for his stupidity, the git would burn.

And maybe the Hellmouth would be destroyed in the next 30 seconds.

Deciding that he couldn't take much more, Spike struggled, pulling himself up in his specially made bed by using the silver handlebars. The vampire decided that tonight was the night he would get out of bed and leave that sodding metal prison behind him. He gingerly tugged and pulled until he managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The revenant concentrated and, with a great effort, stood on his own two feet.

**Crimey, I did it!!** He thought triumphantly.

His legs felt weak, but he was standing! The first part of his plan to pay all of them back was proceeding rapidly. Now, if he could make it to Buffy's house, or the chit's school without buckling, then, he could beat her down until she was a bloody mess six feet under the ground. Once that was done, Angelus would be next. After that, Spike would take Dru somewhere else that was worthy of both of them: some faraway place like Prague, or something.

Spike went to the gym to build up his strength and to plan. He couldn't take a chance on the Slayer and Peaches finding out that he could walk just yet, and he had to be absolutely in tip top shape to pound them into the next century.

As he worked out on the equipment, he thought, **at least I can't hear their moanin' down here!**

Valentine's day was definitely looking up.

XXXXXXXX

The next morning, Xander walked through the halls toward his first class. Had the halls seemed as large as they were the morning after Valentine's day? He supposed they were. All it took was a break up like the one he'd suffered to make the halls of Sunnydale High so big that they were the size of Brazil.

"Hey, Harris!" a jock called out to him.

Xander pointed to himself; the guy must have been talking about another Alexander Harris, although Xander couldn't think of one.

"Me?" he asked the jock.

The tall, ruggedly good looking, football player sized teen said, "Yeah, you! Come here."

Xander walked over, and the jock said in a loud voice, "I heard about you and the Chasester! Way to get dumped, dude!" He snickered and moved on.

The dark haired boy could see many of his fellow classmates staring at him in either sympathy, or as though he was the stupidest being alive to: 1) fall for Cordelia in the first place; and, 2) break up with Cordelia in the second place. He saw Buffy walking at top speed toward the library.

"Buffy!" Xander said, hurrying to catch up to her. "I didn't see a program about you but whoever did that is high on my shit list. Do you want me to tell, uh, someone about...?"

"Not now Xander!" Buffy said. She lowered her voice, adding, "Angel." She kept on walking.

Before she reached the library, Buffy heard someone calling "dumpee!" out to her.

She locked her jaw with determined fury and entered Giles' domain away from his flat. The Watcher looked up from a tome he was reading about Angelus and waited expectantly for her to say something.

Buffy whipped out Angel's card with the flowers and said, "Look!" She pointed to the word on it.
"He sent it with flowers!" Buffy shouted. "Not only that, but everyone in the school knows about the S. S. Titanic of my relationship with Angel! I want to know what to do about him!"

"Well, Buffy, I'm doing the best I can concerning his transgressions," Giles defended himself. Beyond the British man, Buffy could see several huge tomes that had been open and discarded. A notebook was also on the table with many scribblings.

"He has done many, horrible things in the past two hundred and twenty years, and we must be diligent in researching him!" Giles advised. "Give me a few more minutes, and we shall have a talk about him."

Buffy left the library to go to her first class: English. When she got there, Amy was sitting in her chair.

"Hello, Amy," Buffy greeted, a calculating look in her eyes. Amy turned toward Buffy.

"Buffy," she greeted, then she caught the look on Buffy's face.

"What?" Amy wanted to know.

"You're a witch!" Buffy told her. "I remember last year."

"But," Amy protested, "that was my mom, not me!"

"Yeah, well, it looks like it runs in your family," Buffy responded. "Of course, I could tell Miss Beekman what I saw. You know: the invisible term paper."

Amy's eyes grew wide. "What do you know about it?" she asked, afraid.

"Like I said: you worked some magic on Miss Beekman so that she'd think you had a paper when you didn't," Buffy said, staring at her with all of her patented Slayer lookage.

"You'll never be able to prove anything," Amy tried one last attempt at bravado.

"Well, suppose she goes through her stash of papers and finds nothing with your name on it? That should be proof enough," Buffy said. "In any case, I'm sure Principal Snyder...". Amy shot up from her seat.

"Stop!" she cried desperately. Then, in a lower voice, she asked, "What do you want?"

Buffy thought about how Angel just then, and how humiliated she'd felt that news about her failed relationship was all over the school.

"I want a little respect," she said. "I want justice! He did this to me, and I'm not gonna take it anymore! I want whatever forces are out there to serve me for once! I deserve it, and I'm gonna collect."

Her look determined, Buffy told Amy, "You're gonna cast a spell."

Amy fought back her rising fear as she saw the almost feral look in her fellow classmate's green eyes.

"A spell?" Amy asked fearfully. She tried to look a second later as though she and Buffy were discussing the weather.

At Buffy's nod, Amy asked, "So, who is it for?"

"My ex-honey, Angel," Buffy said. "You're gonna cast a love spell, one where he can't stop thinking about me."

"What?!" Amy asked, not quite certain if she had heard correctly.

When Buffy repeated her request, Amy looked down at the floor. "I don't know, Buffy," she said. "I mean, I'm not sure I can make him love you forever...".

"Forever?! Eww!" Buffy shrieked. "Back up! I never said I wanted him to love me forever!"

**Although that could be interesting since he is immortal,** the Slayer's mind supplied.

Buffy smiled a brief grin as she thought about the possibilities. A minute later, however, she thought about how she would grow old, and Angel still would be young. She looked Amy dead in the face.

"What I want," Buffy explained, "is just for him to want me. I want him to be desperately in love with me; so much with the lovey-doveyness in fact that he'll experience the same hell I'm going through when I dump him!"

Amy looked unsure. "I don't know, Buffy..." she said, faltering. "Intent really must be pure with love spells."

"Of course it does," Buffy agreed. "I intend revenge, pure as the driven snow. And if I don't get it, I can always tell Snyder about your"—.

"A-all right," Amy said. "I'll need something of his. It should be a personal object."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Spike turned slightly in his sleep that morning, unable to shake the sounds of Drusilla and Angel that he had heard the night before. After several moments, the blond vampire sat straight up in his bed. He tried to move his legs slowly, and after one or two attempts, was rewarded with being able to flex his knees.

Next, Spike commanded his toes to wiggle and felt them. He threw off his covers and, without using the handle, was able to place his feet on the ground. The revenant stood up, perfectly erect for more than a few moments. He decided to forego sleep in favor of working on his knees and legs some more.

Walking past his grand-sire's room, Spike saw Angelus sleeping peacefully, his arm wound protectively around Dru's waist. Drusilla snuggled into his naked torso, her luscious, red lips curling into a seductive smile. She murmured, but didn't wake. Her sire turned, taking her body with him so that she was on top of him. Spike looked longingly at her creamy breasts draped across the vampire he hated more than anything in creation.

**'f thoughts could kill,** he projected to Angelus and Dru, **you'd both be burnin' by now!**

He went down to the gym, and oblivious to the pain one feels when trying to use leg muscles one hasn't used in awhile, he executed a lunge. As he worked out the revenant forced himself to think of something else. He thought about his favorite soap, Passions, and wished that life could be that simple. At least, on the telly, they had several takes to get stuff right! Why couldn't his life with Dru be like that?

Spike kicked the huge punching bag, smiling evilly as it swung wildly. He thought about Angelus and what he would do to his grand-sire that night. Using the vertical bar on the wall as leverage, Spike let loose a flying leap into the bag. It fell to the ground, torn from its chain.

"Yeh!!" the vampire cried, pleased with himself that he was feeling much stronger.

Spike chose the weight lifting machine next, setting the weights in the middle. He wrapped his feet around the cushioned bars and hefted the weights with ease. The vampire fantasized about Buffy being on top of him, her body sinking over his length, his legs pumping. Then, he squeezed her until she cried out in pain.

(SPIKE'S FANTASY)

"Well, that's one way to pop your cherry, kitten," he said as the Slayer fought to breathe.

"Spiikkee..." Buffy whispered gasping.

He withdrew his member, then before she knew what was happening, Spike dipped his head and put it between her golden thighs. He drank from her creamy cum, sucking the blood out of her as she collapsed, a dead heap beneath him.

The dream changed as he saw himself in front of a blackboard, keeping score as he laughed, saying to some faceless younger vampires, "An' that's how I bagged Slayer Number Three. Gotta admit, her quim was the sweetest thing...next to her blood, of course!"

The vampires cheered at him, thrusting him on their shoulders, calling him "William the Bloody" for an entirely different reason.... (FANTASY ENDS)

The daydream ended abruptly, but Spike was on a high. **Wonder where I should go for a quick bite,** he thought.

The former William the Bloody let go of the weights, and then he climbed down into the sewers below the gym via a trap door. Spike walked until he found himself under the "Sunnydale House of Pancakes."

As he opened the grate leading up to the surface, Spike smirked, saying to himself, "Now, let's see...Mexican, Chinese, or good ol' fashioned American?"

the vampire saw a shady spot and popped up from his hiding place. A blonde girl came out of the restaurant.

"Excuse me..." Spike said from the shadows. The girl looked around fearfully.

"Who is that?" she asked. Spike emerged as much as he dared, not letting the sun hit his face completely.

"Jus' a bloke wonderin' if you've got a ciggie," he requested, turning his blue eyes on her. "'m sorry if I startled you."

The girl smiled, pulling out a pack and offering it to him. Spike grabbed her arm and yanked her down beneath the grating he had suddenly opened. The girl didn't get a chance to scream when the vampire sank his canines into her neck.

He roared as he dined on some of the greatest American blood he'd ever tasted.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Xander kept his eyes peeled for Cordelia before heading off to Miss Beekman's class that morning. When he saw her out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was dressed to kill in her deep red designer togs, Xander sprinted to her locker. He cut her off just as she was about to open it.

"What is your deal?" Cordelia shrieked. "Are you going all stalker on me?"

Xander gave her a baleful stare. "Don't flatter yourself," he said dryly. "I came to discuss some business."

"What kind of business?" Cordelia asked.
"The kind where you return my property," he responded.

When Cordelia had a confused look, Xander prompted, "the locket."

Cordelia wore an incredulous expression. "I thought that was a gift," she said a little too loudly. Some students were slowing down to hear what was going on between the geek and the diva.

"Yesterday, it was a gift," Xander said matter-of-factly, "today it's scrap metal. I figure since you don't like the guy who gave it to you, I can use it for fillings next time Dr. Fleischler gets antsy about my teeth."

Cordelia glared at the students who were trying not to look as if they were listening to her and Xander's conversation. They caught her look and moved on.

When she and her ex were alone, Cordelia commented, "you're pathetic."

Xander tapped his foot impatiently, saying, "I can wait."

The brown haired beauty opened her locker, hiding her face so that Xander couldn't see her hurt expression.
Letting loose a quiet sigh, she handed the locket to him as she said, "here. I didn't want something so cheap, anyway."

Xander stalked off, leaving Cordelia without so much as a backward glance.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Before going to English class, Buffy stopped in the library. "Hey, Giles!" she called, looking upward toward the stacks. The librarian and Watcher came out from his hiding place, his face buried inside a thick book.

"Ahh, Buffy!" Giles exclaimed. "There you are. Did you need something before attending your English class?"

He came downstairs and put the thick tome on top of an ever growing pile of books. Buffy put the card Angelus had sent the night before on top of all of them. The Englishman read, "soon."

"He sent it with flowers," Buffy said. She started pacing, but then fixed Giles with a stare a moment later.

"Soon, he wrote," she went on. "What happens next? You never held back until the thing that goes bump in the night became my ex honey! How am I supposed to defend myself if I don't know what's coming?!"

Giles sighed. Buffy was right; she did deserve to know the truth. **Is it so wrong that I want to protect you?** He thought, glad that his Slayer couldn't read his mind.

"Sit down," he said. Both glanced at the clock.
"I promise I will try to give a more condensed version for now," Giles informed her, "so that you won't miss Miss Beekman's class."

As he rattled off some of Angel's most horrific episodes, Buffy thought, **that's it! Tonight, you're goin' down!**

XXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night, Buffy staked a few vampires by the school and went in to meet Amy. She had thought long and hard about what she would bring as a personal article, and then it sprang into her mind: the Claddagh ring he had given her.

Clutching the ring in her tiny hand, the Slayer thought about happier times between her vampire and herself. She remembered their first kiss; their lips briefly touching, the promise of greater things to come. Then Buffy saw Angel taking her slowly in his arms as he rode her gently. She pictured his legs around her as she gave herself up to him, not caring that she became a virginal sacrifice for him.

**Sacrifice?** Buffy thought. **Guess I did sacrifice everything for him.**

She hesitated as she entered Sunnydale High. Should she even go through with this? Maybe Willow was right. Maybe another man was waiting in the wings for her. If that was true, why should she even care that she had lost the vampire who meant everything to her once upon a time?

**Because it's Angel!** Her mind supplied. Buffy realized then that she wasn't just doing this for herself, she was doing this for all women who had been wronged by him. Somehow, he had to see the consequences of his actions. Her mind made up, Buffy met Amy in the lab.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Spike washed in the shower by his room as he heard Dru and Angelus shagging another night.
"Oohhh, Daddy!" his Dark Princess cooed. "Like tha'! Do it like tha'!"

In the grand bedroom, Angelus rode Drusilla like she was the beginning and end to all women. He laughed a triumphant one while he slammed into her. Dru cried out his name in total ecstasy.

Spike heard something snap in two while he let the water run down his body. He looked down and saw that it was the soap. Angrily, he stepped out of the stall, not bothering to towel off but just stopping by his room long enough to throw on his traditional black t shirt and jeans. He placed his feet inside his Dockers and growled. He needed more fresh blood tonight, and a good toss on top of some female company: some DUMB female company before he faced his enemies. Spike left the mansion in search of his prey.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Inside the chemistry lab, Amy was putting some herbs into a beaker which had the name "Angel" written upon it. Buffy had stripped down to her bra and sat inside a mystic circle. She held a candle aloft as the witch consulted her spell book. When Amy had the correct spell, she nodded to Buffy, who focused all of her concentration on Angel and what they were about to do.

"Diana, Goddess of Love and the Hunt, I beseech thee," Amy said in a loud voice. "Let my cries bind the heart of Buffy's Beloved. May he neither rest, nor sleep."

She dropped the ring into the beaker. A red smoke issued out from it, and Amy felt herself trembling. She collected herself a moment later and continued the invocation.

"May he know only frustration until he submits to her will and her will only!" she said, growing slightly more confident. "Diana, bring about this love, and bless it!"

Amy's eyes grew black with the power and energy of magic from ages past. In an urgent voice, she told Buffy to blow out the candle. The Chosen One did as instructed.

**Showtime!** Buffy thought.

CHAPTER FIVE

XXXXXXXXXX

Xander Harris drove toward Cordelia Chase's home on the rich side of town that night, a single flower wrapped inside some tissue paper on the seat beside him. He cursed himself for being weak; he had told himself over and over that day that breaking up from the Queen Bitch was the greatest thing he had ever done.

But as he had gone home after school, all he could think about was her: her butt as it moved back and forth when she walked; her sparkling brown eyes, even when she was angry with him or when she pretended not to like him, and her hands on his body when she copped a feel.

He thought about their last makeout session inside her Porsche. She touched him all over like he was a Greek statue that she wanted to bang in the worst way, and he had felt the same. They had come up for air after a very intense lip lock, but he kept fantasizing about what might have happened if they hadn't….

He pulled up across the street from her parents' house, checking his hair, which he'd slicked back a little, and his new suit, which was black and intense-looking on him. He breathed and sniffed the air to make sure that he had minty freshness.

**Okay,** he thought when he caught a whiff of the pizza he'd had earlier that evening, **maybe I need freshening up!**

He put some mints in his mouth and chewed them for a moment before repeating his breathing exercise. Satisfied a moment later, Xander exited the car and walked up toward the house. He rang the doorbell. A dour faced old man opened the door.

"Yes?" he asked with a New England accent.

Xander's face was a mix of panic and disappointment that Cordy hadn't answered the bell.

**Of course,** he thought, **naturally, they would have a butler! Doesn't everybody rich have one?**

"Listen, Jeeves…" he began in a flippant tone which he hoped hid his nervousness.

"The name is Jeffrey," the butler corrected.

"Yeah, sure," Xander said, "Jeffrey." The butler waited expectantly for Xander to provide a reason for his visit.

Xander shuffled a little, at somewhat a loss for words. Chickening out, he said, "sorry, wrong house."

"Are you perchance looking for Miss Cordelia?" the butler asked. The dark haired young man looked up and nodded.

"One moment, Mr…?" the major domo prompted.

"Xander Harris," Xander said, hoping against hope for a positive outcome.

The butler turned and walked away, leaving the door partly opened. Xander waited outside before he heard the butler suggest that he wait in the foyer.

"Thanks," Xander said, thinking, **well! At least I'm FOYER material!**

He sat down on a settee by the steps with the huge banister. They looked like something out of the movie Titanic, with their rail in the middle and their carpeted brown woodedness, he noted. He tapped his foot, and then was rewarded with Cordelia coming down them. She had a perpetual scowl on her face.

"What now?" she asked angrilly.

She saw the flower that he held in his hand. Her face lit up for just a moment when she noted that he'd remembered her favorite: red roses. Not wanting Xander to see just how much his simple gesture had affected her, Cordelia huffed.

"Are you gonna give me that, and then take it back to Walmart, like that cheap knock off you gave me yesterday?" she snapped. Xander glared at her.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" he asked, his eyes flashing. "Or is this a code thing, where you really want to hide the fact that you love me, but you can't quite say the words? 'Cause I gotta say, Cordy, that on you it doesn't look that different!"

"Love you?!" Cordelia bit back. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

Xander rolled his eyes, then said, "Oh, I get it, now! You decided to feel sorry for me instead of showing me how you really feel about me last night!"

"Well, someone had to!" she yelled. "It wasn't like any one else would! Unless, of course, you're telling me how you really feel by giving me a wilted, $1.98 flower of yours!"

"First of all, I spent at least half a day picking out the best flower out of hundreds of roses at a real florist's shop for you, to say nothing of coughing up most of my allowance getting this! Second, I'll have you know that I have not one, but two girls who really like me!" Xander replied, hoping that she wouldn't see right through him.

He thought about the only two girls who even gave him the time of day: Buffy and Willow, his two best female friends. Make that his only two female friends; okay, his only friends, unless you counted Oz..

Cordelia cut to the chase with her usual sharpness. "Oh?" she asked, crossing her arms and frowning. "How are Buffy and Willow, anyway?" she asked snidely.

Xander got in her face then. "What makes you think they're the only girls in my life?" he asked.

When Cordy gave him a stare as if to say, "oh, please, you're kidding, right?" Xander withdrew the rose and stepped back.

"You know, I was right the first time," he said in a low voice. "I told myself that this was a bad idea, and I've decided that as of now, we're very much of the unmix-y crowd." He turned away and left.

Cordelia held out her hand, wishing for a moment that he would come back so that she could say how sorry she was, but she slammed the door as she beheld his retreating back. When she heard the sound of his engine (at least she thought it was his,) she cried a single, angry tear.

**Idiot!** She thought, though she didn't know if she meant him, or herself.

Cordelia went upstairs to her lonely room and flung herself on her bed. She saw the picture of Xander and herself, and she put the frame down so that she didn't have to look at it. Then, she lay on her back and looked up at the ceiling, wondering how, or even if, she wanted to make things better between them.

XXXXXXXXX

Buffy walked through the cemetery, hoping that Angel or Spike would show up itching for a fight, or perhaps some other demon so that she could get in some practice fighting for the real thing. She was rewarded later when a purple demon came up, hissing and snarling, its lavender tongue flinging out at her.

"You know, I've gotta ask you: is that the only weapon you've got in your arsenal or are you just trying in vain to impress me?" she asked, faking a yawn.

The demon crouched, then it drew itself to full height as if it were experiencing a moment of indecision.
A drop of its spittle hit Buffy's leather jacket on the upper arm.

"Slayer…" it started saying.

"Yep, that's me," Buffy returned, kicking it in the knee.

The demon went down, but came up a moment later and grabbed her with two, beefy, purple hued arms. It squeezed, flinging out its' tongue as though it was kissing her on her cheek.

"Eww!!" Buffy said, adding, "have you ever heard of controlling yourself on the first date?"

She struggled for a moment, then elbowed his rib. When the demon cried out, Buffy kicked it to the ground. She whipped out a knife from one of her jacket pockets and jabbed in in the demon's side. Purple blood spewed out.

"Been working out, huh, Slayer?" the demon asked, not with sarcasm, but in awe as though he admired that. "Looks good on you."

Buffy's response was to twist the knife a little harder. The demon cried out, backing away.

"I don't see why we can't make it work, Slayer…" the demon said, not making any sudden moves. Buffy looked at it as though it had escaped from the loony bin.

"Well, let's see…" she quipped, "for one thing, you're ugly." She let loose a kick toward the unwounded side of the demon. "For another, hello: demon, you. Slayer, me. I kick you guys to Hell, so I'm not thinking long term relationship."

The purple hued monster threw a punch which solidly connected on her jaw. Buffy winced with pain. Using a harpoon she had fished out, she hit it with all she had.

"And, by the way," she finished, "I hate deep purple demons who hit me in my face!" The Slayer shot the arrow into its heart. The demon screamed its death cry, then slumped to the ground forever silent.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

When she reached the library to ask Giles some more questions about Angelus, Buffy didn't see her Watcher, but Xander instead. He was slumped over some demon books and tomes but looked totally confused, twisting one book to and fro.

"Hey, Xander," Buffy greeted. "Where's Giles?"

"He went to home to grab some food and some books," Xander reported. "I met him as he left."

"Oh," Buffy said, sinking down on a chair.

Xander took in her winded condition and walked out of the library. A moment later, he came in with a water drenched paper towel and pressed it to her face.

"Thanks," she said, grabbing the towel and holding it to her cheek. "Does it look bad?"

"Nope," Xander said honestly. "Looks like you're on the recovery train."

"So, you're here because of Cordelia, right?" Buffy asked. Xander looked at her, and then he smiled. The Chosen One thought she'd never seen the grin he suddenly aimed at her. It was part adoring, and part lustful.

"I was, but we called it quits for the last time," Xander said, never taking his dark eyes off of her.

Buffy shrugged, saying, "Well, if she can't see all of the wonderful things you have, then it's her loss."

Xander nodded enthusiastically. "Darn straight," he agreed. "Anyway, I don't really care. I'm moving on."

"Good for you," Buffy praised, thinking, **at least until the next time he sees Cordelia.**

He scooted the chair he'd sat in closer to Buffy, then turned so that they faced each other. He grabbed her in a hug. Buffy returned the gesture, glad that her friend was at least trying to deal. Xander didn't pull apart. In fact, by her estimation, he was trying to get closer. She broke contact with him, and when she looked at him, he still wore a dreamy expression on his face.

"I was thinking…" Xander began, "how do you feel about lap dancing? I find that very comforting, don't you?" Buffy got up suddenly from her chair.

"Okay…you do know who I am, right?" Buffy asked, getting extremely nervous. "I mean, Xander, I'm glad you're the Emancipated guy and all, but I don't think moving on with me is the right thing to do."

The dark haired young man didn't even give any indication of having heard her. "I really thought I'd be more upset about Cordy," he told Buffy, "but once I saw you here, I couldn't believe how happy I was about how things turned out."

"Uhh…" Buffy murmured, wondering what to say to her friend.

Her spider sense was going into overdrive despite there not being a vampire or a demon nearby. Something was definitely wrong. The Slayer backed away, trying to distance herself from Xander. He moved slowly, but he advanced toward her.

"It's kinda funny, you know?" he asked. "Like I never saw you before, the way you were meant to be seen."

His hand reached out to her. Buffy opened the door leading to the hallway, and ran right into Giles.

"Oh, Buffy!" the Watcher and Librarian exclaimed.

He held up a plastic grocery bag in one hand, and some books in the other. Buffy grabbed Giles' arm and steered him out into the hallway. Xander made no move to follow, but looked through the small window on the door.

"Giles! There's something going on with Xander!" the Chosen One cried. "I think he's under a spell. A-and, it isn't just him! Some purple demon tried to cozy up to me!"

The Watcher put down his items for a moment in front of the door and walked with Buffy toward a classroom. They went inside and she switched on the light.

"What kind of spell do you think Xander or the demon are under?" he asked, removing his glasses and chewing on them.

"I dunno; they acted weird," she answered.

Giles gave her a look as if to ask, "weird for Xander or a demon, or for any red blooded American teenager or monster?"

"Both went all…lovey-dovey on me," Buffy said, relating some of what had happened.

Giles put on his glasses, saying, "Hmm…this could be significant. What you encountered was a Ra'sha'hoo demon. They mark their potential mates by slinging acid on their person. Perhaps yet another mind game from Angelus to keep you on your toes?"

"With demon guy, maybe, but with Xander?" Buffy asked.

Giles looked to her for any more information, but none was forthcoming. He then blinked like Xander had done.

"Maybe we should research this more," he said in a low voice. Buffy thought she heard a more husky voice that time on her Watcher.

**Not again!** She thought.

"We could go to my flat," Giles said, giving her the same, idiotic, smitten grin Xander had. "I could reveal more about Angelus, or I could tell you some other deep, dark secrets…".

"No!" Buffy commanded.

Giles' response was to simply beam at her in complete adoration.

"Maybe you and Xander should research this more," Buffy ordered, "while I see if Angel or Spike, or somebody knows anything about this!"

"I love it when you are forceful, Buffy!" Giles commented. "It's not for nothing that you are the Chosen One. But I really think I should come with you."

"No, no…" Buffy said, "go back to the library and sit with Xander. Don't do anything until I get back, okay?"

Giles frowned, not wanting to leave Buffy's side, but he did as he had been told. While he and Xander sat researching, Buffy pulled out her cell phone, hoping that she could contact Amy even as she also went to the mansion in search of Angelus and Spike.

XXXXXXXXXX

The mansion seemed quieter that night since Angelus could not hear his grandchilde’s rock music or the pounding of weights down in the gym as the senior vampire banged on Drusilla nightly. Ever since Spike had been sired, he had been territorial about her.

Angel couldn’t blame him. He had wanted to keep Darla under lock and key since he had been turned. If other men so much as looked at her funny, he usually showed them no mercy when he ripped their throats apart.

**Of course,** Angel thought as he grinned broadly, **I showed them no mercy no matter what they did.**

He wasn’t even sure what had driven him to really seek Dru’s bed the first time they banged each other. Perhaps it was his altercation with Darla; perhaps it was that he liked variety, and didn’t want to be a one-woman guy, unlike his grandchilde. Or, perhaps he just loved bugging the hell out of William the Bloody. One had to admit, watching the wheelchair bound vampire squirm in his seat whenever Angel nuzzled Dru’s neck or reminded Spike that he couldn’t keep up with his elders was more fun than creating a massacre.

Angelus’ features twisted in an evil grin. He’d find William, tie him up with special magically induced chains that the younger idiot couldn’t break, and treat him to a ringside show of riding Dru.

“Daddy!” Dru said. “Are we going out to feed now?”

Angelus took Drusilla’s hand. She had taken great pains with the white gown she wore and her blood red lipstick. She’d even combed her hair after her last hair pulling frenzy.

His dark orbs roamed over her body with a long lingering gaze as he responded, “No, not yet. I have something else in mind. Go get Spike and bring him here.”

Drusilla smiled a sadistic grin. She wasn’t sure what her sire had planned, but if it involved William’s humiliation, the demon in her was all for it. The raven haired female vamp went to the room he occupied when she shagged her Daddy and stopped short when she saw the rumpled sheets.
Her eyes widened as she realized that Spike was fully mobile, and her nose told her that the scent that was on his sheets was not as strong, an indication that he had been gone from his room for quite some time.

“Daddy!!” Drusilla wailed. Angel ran into the room. His eyes scanned the bedroom, and then, as he reached the same verdict that Dru had, his face was one of barely disguised fury.

“Oh, my William has flown! He’s gone to toy with the other doxies in the park!” Drusilla moaned. Angel’s angry eyes turned on his childe. He snatched some of her hair and yanked hard.

“Now, you listen to me, Little Miss Moan and Groan!” Angel rebuked. Drusilla’s eyes glanced in his direction. “We’ll find Sit and Spin, and we’ll drag his bony ass back here for some good, old fashioned torturing for running out without telling us! Now use that power of yours and see if you can spot him!” He let her go. Drusilla stared at Angel, then concentrated.

“He dances close to the light,” she told him. “He’ll be enveloped in it before long!”

Angelus realized what that reference meant. Spike had gone out to find the Slayer. The elder vamp hadn’t exactly planned things that way, but if they killed each other, so much the better.

**Of course, knowing Spike, something could go wrong,** Angelus thought.

Just because the bleached blond had killed two Slayers didn’t mean that three times would necessarily be the charm. And, anyway, Buffy belonged to Angel. No way in Hell was he gonna let a pup like William the Bloody destroy his ex.

**If Spike’s after her, and she’s looking for him...**Angel thought. He mentally snapped his fingers as his mind seized on their possible location. **Maybe I won’t need Dru’s powers after all!**

“Come on, Dru,” Angel instructed, not waiting for her to catch up as he walked out into the night. “Let’s go Back to School.” Drusilla followed her Vampire Dad’s wide strides as he went toward Sunnydale High.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

About fifteen minutes after Angel and Drusilla’s departure, Buffy reached the mansion. She looked everywhere for the trio of vampires, but saw that they had left.

“Great!” she cried angrily, kicking the wall in frustration. She tried dialing Amy’s number on her cell phone.

“Hello?” a male voice answered. Here’s hoping this spell can’t reach guys over the phone, Buffy thought.

“Hi, is Amy there?” she asked into her receiver.

“No, I’m afraid not,” the male voice answered. “This is her father. Can I take a message?”

“I...” Buffy started saying, then she clammed up, not wanting to give her name lest it produce a reaction.

“No,” she said. “It wasn’t important. I can call back later.”

She hung up, hoping that Amy would return home soon, and glad that at least she didn’t have to deal with Amy’s dad’s lovey-doveyness. The Chosen One was about to go see if Giles and Xander had managed not to kill each other when she sensed a presence returning to the mansion.

Buffy had learned a few things in her short time as the Resident Slayer of the World. One was how to sense vampires and demons; the other was that, like people having distinct scents and other unique characteristics, revenants had their own signatures.

Angel had a very low mental note: constant and steady, like a quietly beating toy drum in the distance. Spike, on the other hand, was a much louder echo: a kettle drum, or a rapidly beating bonga drum at a concert, passionate, invasive; demanding to be heard.

It was that mental sound she heard now.

The object of her impressions swaggered boldly toward the vampires’ nest, cigarette in his mouth, a smile dancing on his lips. She watched from her vantage point as he stopped short, his eyes narrowing into slits as he looked around.

“Slayer...?” he said, strolling closer to where Buffy was.

“Damn,” Buffy whispered softly.

Never one to refuse a challenge, she stepped out as the peroxide vampire came into view. For a moment, both enemies regarded each other; then, Spike’s traditional smirk glided into place.

“So, we’ve go’ a gate crasher,” he said, extinguishing his cigarette by crushing it slowly when it dropped to the ground. His message was clear to Buffy that she would be next. The Slayer chose not to dwell on that message.

“More like a partygoer,” Buffy rejoined, whipping out her stake, “and here’s the party favor!”

She went for Spike’s heart, but the vampire easily sidestepped the weapon and let loose a flying punch in her direction. Buffy deflected his fist, aiming a punch of her own with her one free hand.

“Oohh, fight in you!” Spike teased, morphing into his game face, “gotta love it!” He knocked the stake out of her hand, and the pair traded punches and blows, Buffy aiming for the high ground, and Spike for the low.

When he saw an opening, he reached out and grabbed the Slayer, pinning her against the wall of one of the many rooms in the mansion.

Buffy struggled, trying to free herself, but Spike had her pinned tight for the moment. His human face slid into place, giving nothing away as he stared at her.

“What’s the matter, Spike?” Buffy asked hotly. “Dru confuse you again?”

At the mention of Dru’s name, Spike’s anger returned. Buffy saw his face shift into its vampire ridges yet again. She braced herself as much as she could for his attack, but it never came. His lips came down on hers with the force of a hurricane. As he shifted his body a little during his kissing, Buffy wanted to show him once and for all who was in control by flinging him off, but she found her Slayer training had abandoned her. All she could think about was giving as good as she had gotten.

Her arms wound around his hair, and her lips captured his boldly. Buffy pulled Spike closer to her waiting body, and her leg slid over his. The vampire’s demon pressed harder against her, letting her feel his hardness down there at full force. His kiss grew rougher, more insistent; but rather than throwing him off, Buffy let him have full access. A tiny moan escaped her mouth. Spike pulled away abruptly. His human visage was clearly visible. She looked into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Slayer...” he breathed, “what have you done to me?”

Buffy wanted to answer that it was just a spell gone wrong, that he would be normal as soon as she could locate Amy or Angel, or someone else who could take his desire away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, without taking Spike with her for the ride.

He let part of her red leather jacket drop, exposing her neck and beyond it her black tank top, revealing part of her golden shoulder. She felt him nibbling on her neck at its collar bone; his teeth teasing; his lips, though cool, leaving a freezer burn in their wake.

“Spiiiike...” she groaned. He let his arm slide along her leg.

“Relax, kitten,” he purred, “I’m gonna make you meow.”

With that, Spike’s hand found her skirt and, not breaking his nibbling on her neck, lifted it up. One arm lowered her tank even further. Seeing the prize he wanted, Spike abandoned her shoulder and collarbone to suck her nipple. Buffy did meow then; not the mewl of an innocent kitten, but a low, throaty roar urging him on.

“You think that’s good, pet, wait’ll you feel THIS!” Spike insisted.

His hand found her panties beneath her skirt. He scrunched them aside and let his fingers explore. William the Bloody’s face drifted to her opposite side, where he licked the other side on her shoulder. Her pulse sang out to him as it thundered. The aroma of her desire urging him on, Spike plunged his fingers into her waiting moistness.

“Spike, what’re you....ooohhh....” she said, as she felt him thrusting his digits in and out. Unbidden, her leg rose higher.

“Tha’s what you wanted, innit, baby?” he cooed, enjoying her reaction. His mind seized on a plan as he morphed into his vampire face.

“Slayer...” he began. Buffy pulled him closer, feeling herself on the edge of coming.

“Buffy,” she demanded, letting her finger reach whatever bare skin of his she could. Now, as her fingers skimmed his nipple through the cotton of his t shirt, it was the blond revenant’s time to moan.

“Buffy,” Spike agreed readily, adding, “MY Buffy.”

He dropped below her line of vision. The Chosen One’s eyes glazed over with sexual tension as she awaited her release.

Spike let his lips roam along her exposed and not exposed parts of her luscious body. “I want you to be my first,” he said.

He reached the milky pool between her legs. His tongue lavished her clit, sucking and tugging. Too far gone at that time, Buffy came all over his mouth.

“That was...amazing!” she said, gasping.

Angel had never brought her to heights like that! How ironic it was that it took a dead person to make her feel so alive! It was then that she realized what Spike had said...his first? His first what? His first sexual partner or his first siring? She gently pushed him away.

“Spike...” she said. When he moved back to her lips and started kissing again, Buffy pushed him off again.

“Spike,” she said, more in a commanding tone.

“Wha’?” he asked, looking at her, his eyes glassy like an addict’s.

“That...what you said...about being your first,” Buffy reiterated.

Spike recovered a little, chuckling and saying, “Well, actually, you wouldn’t be my firs’, but, you would be my best.”

Despite every thought that they should not continue down the path they were forging, Buffy couldn’t help but be a little flattered that Spike wanted her that way. In some ways, he was her first, despite the session with Angel. It astounded her how, in such a short time, she’d come to think about what should be termed love making between herself and her first boyfriend simply as “a session”, like she was on a psychiatrist’s couch or something.

She didn’t need Slayer senses to tell her that Spike would be profoundly different. His next words, however, made her freeze.

“Not since me mum have I sired anyone,” Spike told her, moving his lips up to her neck. “You would like it; I promise. Livin’ forever; never dyin’. Best part: you’d never have to let anyone else, not even your destiny as a Slayer, dictate to you what you should do.”

He was about to bite her when she said softly, “No.” Spike pulled back, his yellow eyes staring at her.

“No?” he asked, blinking in confusion.

“No, I can’t,” Buffy responded, pushing him back. “First of all, we don’t know how it would affect me, being the Slayer and all. And, as tempting as that sounds, do you really think I would be grateful to you when I see all of my friends and family getting wrinkly and pruny while I’m the fairest of them all?”

“Buffy...” Spike warned. Buffy would not be put off. She had to tell him about his “condition”.

“And third, you don’t know what’s happened to you,” the Slayer told him. Spike studied her, looking at her as though she had lost her mind.

“You’re under a spell, Spike,” Buffy said, determined. “If you...if we...really knew what this was that we have, and what this could mean, I might at least be with you, but you don’t know. When it gets lifted, you’ll go back to wanting to kill me, and I’ll go back to wanting to stake you.”

Spike pouted. “So, I can’t,” she repeated with more force. Spike stared at Buffy; and then, his eyes grew stormy.

“So, you’re pushin’ me aside, is tha’ it?” he asked, his tone demanding. “I offer you the greatest gift one vamp can give a human and you just REJECT ME?!”

Buffy was instantly contrite. “Spike, I didn’t mean...” she said honestly since she knew it wasn’t his fault that he felt the way he did.

“You think this is all a game, is that it?” he cried. “Jus’ like Dru! Taunt me, tease me, make me think you care, or at least that you’re interested, then when I give you a snog or a shag, you just TOSS ME TO THE BLOODY CURB?!”

Spike wanted in that moment to kill her; to send her to the Hell she was condemning him to. Bitch!! He thought angrily. Beyond that though, was abject hurt; and making its way closer, the desire to see justice done. He was the wronged party; he was the one who suffered, and he would see to it that Buffy paid through the nose. But he couldn’t look at her now. The pain he had welling up inside him stung too much. He walked away just then, not caring if she followed.

“Spike, wait!” Buffy cried, hurrying to catch up with him.

“Sod off!” he snapped, walking through the mansion and out the front door.

When it was obvious Spike was walking in an opposite direction from Sunnydale High, Buffy knew that he’d have to wait. She really wanted to talk, but Xander and Giles needed tending to, and if Angelus knew anything about the goings on, he might head there too.

**Besides, he’ll be okay until I get back!** Buffy thought. She pushed away the guilt she felt and headed for the library.

XXXXXXXXXX

As Buffy started walking back to the school, Willow, Oz and Jenny Calendar watched a field hockey game that night, cheering the Sunnydale Wizards as they scored yet again.

“Great game,” Oz commented in his usual never-wavering voice.

“Yeah, I never thought I could go for hockey, but our team is pretty good,” Willow said. “And, oh! Check out the name! Very Hellmouthy.”

“I don’t know, sounds more ‘Lord of the Rings’ to me,” Oz said. He took Willow’s hand in his and squeezed it. The titian haired girl smiled shyly back at the werewolf.

The team was starting to disperse as the game came to an end. The three rose, Jenny walking in front of the two teens.

“You guys want me to drive you home?” she asked Willow and Oz. The girl shook her head.

“I’ve got to get some books for a test tomorrow,” she told the computer teacher.

“I’ll come with,” Oz said, following Willow toward the library. Jenny took up the rear. She thought that, with everything going on, they might as well leave together and, if need be, escape in her car should anything nasty be outside.

XXXXXXXXXXX

In the library, Giles and Xander were getting restless as they waited anxiously for Buffy’s return. They faced each other, abandoning their research of Angelus’ latest exploits and not looking into the latest prophecies concerning him. The dark haired youth stood.

“Well, I’ve had enough research for ten lifetimes,” Xander reported. He started for the door, when Giles’ hand reached out and grabbed his arm. The brunette haired boy glared at Buffy’s Watcher.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” the older man asked.

“Buffy’s out there,” Xander stated. “I know she needs me!”

Giles snorted. “Oh, that’s a laugh,” he said. “She needs you like she needs gingivitis!” His eyes looked up at Xander and pinned the boy with a stare.

“She wanted us to wait here, and here is where we should wait!” the British man said.

“Oh, yeah?” Xander asked hotly, his voice starting to rise. “Well, who died and made you King of the World?” His next words were murmured with a hint of derision. “Although, Lord knows, you’re old enough to be!”

“Better to be a King on a throne with my Queen than a Squire from the pimple squad,” Giles bit back, his anger growing.

“Say it again, G-Man!” Xander threatened, his temper rising. **Cause I’m just itching for a fight!** He thought.

“Don’t call me G-Man, you sod!” Giles shouted. He shot up from his chair, ready to pummel Xander.

Xander’s hands clenched into fists. He rammed into Giles with all his might; the two fell on the table. Papers and books flew in every direction. Xander’s hand was over the Watcher’s face, but Giles rebounded, pushing Xander to the floor. Before the boy could recover, Giles was wrapping his arms around his neck.

“She’s too much woman for you, child!” Giles said, his past, rebellious self coming sharply to the surface.

“At least the love she has for me is real, old man!” Xander retorted.

Xander’s leg shot up, kicking the librarian near the balls. Giles went down, as the boy started to get back up, but the older man managed to grab his attacker’s leg and pull hard. Xander fell, his eyes shooting daggers into the Watcher.

Footsteps were heard coming into the library. Willow ran in first, followed by Oz and Jenny Calendar.

“My God! Giles!” Willow shouted. “What’s going on?”

“Bugger off!” the Watcher snapped uncharacteristically to all three stunned people. Oblivious to their reaction, he glared at Xander, grunting, “He’s mine!” Giles remained on the floor, getting his bearings so that he could eventually kick the boy’s arse some more.

Oz helped Xander up but also held him back with his hand from inflicting further damage. Miss Calendar offered her aid to Giles, but the Watcher waved her off. Before either the boy or the librarian could get another word in edgewise, Jenny’s voice piped up.

“Rupert?” she queried. “Why are you trying to fight Xander?”

“Because he can’t have her!” Giles thundered as though that explained everything. Jenny’s brows drew back in confusion. Who was "she"?

Oz’s dry humor came up. “If you guys were gonna kill each other, why didn’t you sell tickets?” he asked, trying to defuse the situation. Willow turned her eyes from her two friends and looked at her boyfriend.

“Oz, so not helping!” she said sotto voce.

Buffy burst into the library just then. Oz turned to regard her...and couldn’t stop staring. Her green eyes fell on the scene before her. Xander’s hair was askew and he was roughed up, but looked none the worse for wear. Giles slowly rose from the floor but still looked at Xander with irritation. The dark haired youth reached Buffy’s side first.

“Buffster!” Xander cried. “Glad to see you!” He started to give her a hug, but Buffy backed away.

“And, I’m glad to see you, but I think it’s better if I’m over there, if you don’t mind,” she told him, pointing to a corner of the room that was far away from Xander and Giles. Oz came over to the Slayer.

“Buffy...” Oz started saying, then he asked in a sexy voice that was directed solely at her, “are you wearing a new perfume, or something?” The Chosen One looked at the werewolf and groaned softly. Willow looked from Oz, to her best friend, to everyone and was grief stricken as she saw the lustful look in her boyfriend’s eyes.

“Buffy...what? How? WHY?” was all Willow could manage asking in an anguished voice.

The Slayer didn’t know how she could explain to her friend what was going on. Her senses told her just then that Willow’s breaking heart was the least of her worries. Angelus was on his way, and he was drawing closer. Even worse, Buffy could sense that Drusilla was tagging along.

“Hold that thought, Will,” Buffy said.

With a command to the others to stay inside, the Chosen One left the library. Before exiting the school, she went toward her locker to see if she could grab some weapons from her knapsack.

Jenny looked back at the three men, whose eyes seemed to be following the Slayer’s every movement. “All right, Rupert,” she said, “maybe you could tell me some of what’s going on.” She pulled up a chair opposite the Watcher and waited for any information she could receive.

XXXXXXXXXX

While Buffy got ready to face Angelus and Drusilla, Spike walked into Willie’s Bar and Grill on the East side of town, his duster slightly illuminated in the dim light. Rock music was playing out of an old juke box. Vampires and demons were either drinking or smoking or were hatching plans about doing in the Slayer at some of the tables.

“Whiskey!” William the Bloody bellowed, sitting at the center of the bar. “Straight!” Spike added, taking out his lighter and igniting his cigarette. He took a long puff as Willie brought him a glass of the amber liquor. Spike drained the glass so fast that the demon was taken aback.

“Woah, Spike!” he said sympathetically. “Dru, again?”

“Nope,” the bleached blond vampire said. He slammed the empty glass down on the counter, shouting, “another!” Willie hastily complied with Spike’s request.

“She must have been some girl!” the demon said, whistling. Spike smoked some more, letting some of the ashes fall into the glass.

“She was the Slayerrr....” a demon resembling the purple haired one Buffy had attacked recently growled. “He reeks of her scent.”

“You dated the SLAYER?!” Willie cried incredulously. The music in the bar stopped. Every eye was instantly on Spike. The former poet glared at the demon bartended. Willie sheepishly looked around, waiting to see what would happen.

“Wasn’t a date, or any o’ that rot,” Spike said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Just was tryin’ to taste her before killing her.”

The demon waved the beginning mob off. “Okay, show’s over! Drinks on the house, whaddaya say?” he asked. Everyone turned back to whatever they were doing, save for the table of purple demons. They observed Spike and Willie with interest.

Willie’s eyes widened as he asked as softly as he could in a loud place, “Did you...? Kill her, I mean?” Spike took another long drag on his fag.

“Here’s the thing...” Spike said. “I don’t jus’ wanna kill her, like the others. I wanna make her pay! Treated me like dirt, she did! Don’t want this to be quick, an’ whatnot.”

Willie glanced at the peroxide vamp. The bartender was wondering what could be going through Spike’s mind to make the revenant not follow tradition. He knew that Spike was usually an in-again, out-again kind of guy. He just killed someone and got on with his unlife; no fuss, no muss.

The way Spike wanted to make the Slayer suffer was more like his grandsire, Angelus. Willie would have paid a king’s ransom to find out why this girl was different from the other two Slayers the master vampire had killed.

**Of course,** the demon’s more rational side was telling him, **it’s not really my business.**

As he extinguished his cigarette, Spike wrote on a piece of paper. “Tell me,” he inquired, “where I c’n find a place that sells those?”

Willie looked at the paper, and then at the fair haired vampire. His eyes darted back and forth to make sure that the demons and other vampires weren’t regarding them both anymore. Spike tossed some money on the counter. The bartender nodded and took the money.

“You might try this address,” Willie told Spike in a low voice as he wrote on the back of the paper.

“Thanks, mate,” Spike said, signaling for another glass of whiskey. The vampire drank his fill, grabbed the paper, and then left the bar. Some of the purple demons—three large ones—exited the pub.

When he got outside, the vampire was aware of three figures tagging along behind him. Spike turned to see three large Ra’sha’hoo demons following him.

“We would have a word with you, vampyr,” the leader said. His blue violet skin was barely visible even to Spike’s superior vision on the dark streets of Sunnydale.

“We’ll be joining youuu,” another said menacingly. The blond vampire could make out his lavender hue clearly.

“Really?” Spike asked, looking nonchalant. “An’ why is that?”

“The Slayer destroyed our brotherrr, and after he dared to mark her as his mate,” the first demon who had spoken said.

**Good for her!** The revenant thought. **Leaves her jus’ for me!**

“She will be lashed by the tongue for her offence!” the third demon said. “But she will not die immediately! She will sufferrr.”

Something primitive inside Spike reacted to that. The demon in him came to life, demanding that the vampire kill all of the demons on Buffy’s behalf so that he could finish the job alone.

**She’s MINE to kill, not theirs!** It screamed, almost like a mantra in his mind.

Spike forced himself to control it. Although he loved a good fight, he really didn’t want to be burned by the acid of a Ra’sha’hoo, especially since these seemed to have a mating drive for Buffy. His knowledge of demons had taught him that the purple demons tended to be at their strongest when the mating drive began. William the Bloody would wait until he could seize the advantage and destroy them.

“Yeh, sure, all right,” Spike agreed. They made their way through town to the destination the vampire had in mind.

XXXXXXXXXX

Buffy tensed as she walked down the hallway to the exit. She had rounded a corner when she ran into some of the hockey team members coming out of the gym. The girl started to go in the opposite direction since she knew what would follow, but the boys followed her, some calling after her.

“Buffy!” one said. “How’s about coming over to my place to study?” His tone indicated that he wasn’t interested in studying. She walked faster without turning around. Some boys made cat calls and several whistled appreciatively.

She picked another direction that she hoped would help her to elude her devoted fans, but then Buffy ran right into Principal Snyder.

“Oops!” she exclaimed. **Great!** She thought , **wonder if that love spell is affecting him?** After a moment’s pause, she reasoned, **a world of no! He’s too mean to me to be my—**

“Summers,” Snyder said in his usual slimy voice as he cut into her thoughts. “Step into my office for a moment.” Buffy wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, but maybe, her mind told her, it might not be a bad idea since the guys following her would probably avoid any kind of detention or something by coming to the Principal’s office.

She went inside, and after closing the door, Buffy said, “Uh, sir, I know how this looks...”. The Slayer hoped that the boys had gotten the message that she wasn’t interested and had gone home.

“You like things hot, don’t you, Summers?” Snyder asked. “You excel in getting in over your head.”

Buffy tried to come up with an explanation about the boys’ behavior, but her mind wouldn’t focus. She wanted to go outside and see about Angelus and Drusilla.

“Sometimes,” she said in what she hoped was a neutral answer.

Snyder’s expression was just as it always was: jeering, domineering, and somewhat intimidating, at least to those who were easily intimidated. He ran his fingers over a file that was about her on his desk. After a moment’s pause, Principal Snyder looked up at her.

“It seems that you are the cause of the male degenerates’ latest debacle. It was a wonder they even won the hockey game this evening,” he commented, continuing to stroke the file.

I wonder if this was such a great idea, Buffy thought. The tiny toy drum that was Angelus and the disconsonant chords that whispered “Drusilla” permeated her senses. She knew time was running out and that she needed to leave.

“You know, I just remembered that my Mom wanted me to come home in about fifteen minutes and I have to go...” the girl said sheepishly, standing up.

“Sit,” Snyder said, his expression changing to a person who is getting ready to pull the winning ace from his sleeve.

Buffy sat. “Principal Snyder,” she said, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Roy,” he told her as he tried to convey warmth in his voice. His hand was sliding over to where hers was.

**Ewww!!** The Chosen One thought. **It’s bad enough to have acid spitting demons and Giles coming onto me, but Snyder?! I so need to find Amy or Samantha Stevens, or SOMEBODY to take this spell away!**

“Uh, Roy...” Buffy said, then she saw the direction his hand was taking.

“Don’t even think about it,” she advised. Snyder grinned. Buffy thought she had never seen a more lecherous grin on a human before.

“Oh, you tease!” he joked, but then turned serious. “Let’s get down to business, Summers. I can make all of your past history go away; in fact, I want to make it go away.” He took some papers out of Buffy’s file and started reading.

“Now, let’s see: ‘started cafeteria fire at Encino Flats School’; ‘incorrigible’; ‘a trouble maker’. The list goes on, and on,” Snyder said, taking out some scissors from his drawer. Buffy’s eyes followed as he cut some of her transcripts in half.

“But let’s just say these incidents never happened, like the one tonight, hmm?” he asked.

Buffy tried again, wondering, “Principal Snyder...”.

He shook his head, saying, “Uh, uh, uh...Roy.”

“Roy...” Buffy repeated. Thankfully, both were interrupted by a loud noise coming from the lockers outside of the Principal’s office. Snyder rose from his chair, a goofy smile aimed in her direction.

“Don’t move,” he said, winking at her. After he left, Buffy exited his office. She saw the Principal and the Deputy Principal trying to restrain some boys who were fighting.

**Now’s my chance!** She thought when she escaped outside. **Angel’s gotta be here somewhere....**

“Buff!” Angelus’ voice cut through the night. The vampire strode through the darkness to where the girl stood, Drusilla following closely behind.

“Angel,” Buffy greeted coldly. Her eyes never left her ex boyfriend. Drusilla glared at the Chosen One, totally displeased.

The insane revenant pronounced, “Li’l Slayer’s got knights aplenty to shield her from the dragons! Magic’s all around her. She makes them dance, like my poor William!” Her vamp face in full view, Drusilla growled, her jealousy palpable when she mentioned Spike.

“You’ll need more than knights once we’re done!” Angel yelled. Itching for a fight, the Slayer crouched, her stance telling both vampires that she meant business.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“You mean you can’t tell me what’s going on?” Jenny Calendar shouted at the oldest person in the room.

Giles paid little attention to her frustration; he was struggling against her to go outside to help Buffy.
“There is nothing whatsoever going on!” the Watcher exclaimed.

Although she held him back, his hand was outstretched in the direction of the library’s doors. “Kindly let me pass!” he ordered.

“Not until you tell me why you’re acting this way, Rupert!” Jenny said, forcing herself to be calm.

It was obvious to her that Giles and Xander were under some sort of demonic mojo. The computer teacher’s mind was trying every possible scenario she knew and mentally running through a list of all the magically enhanced beings she remembered, and she was trying to keep her list small.

**But why are they all after Buffy?** She wondered. **Did someone cast a spell to disarm her because they know she’s the Slayer? Angelus…?
Spike…?**

Meanwhile, Xander decided he would stay put. Buffy would come back eventually, and he would be waiting to bury himself in her arms. He crossed his legs and propped them up on the desk. Oz sat beside him, but glanced toward the entrance to the library. He smelled Buffy outside and sighed softly.

Beside Oz, Willow asked in a timid voice, “Oz?”

“Yeah?” the currently red headed musician asked.

“Wh-what’s going on?” she wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Oz said. He didn’t spare a glance at his girlfriend.

“But if nothing’s going on, why do you want Buffy so much?” Willow asked. “I-is it a spell? Or is it just me…?”

“It’s not you,” Oz said. “You’re a great girl, Willow, but Buffy…she’s EVERYTHING.”

In his typical fashion of saying as little as possible, the werewolf revealed nothing more. Willow felt herself tearing.

His magically enhanced ardor for Buffy providing extra strength, Giles was beginning to break free of Jenny’s hold. “Xander? Oz? A little help?” the computer teacher prompted. Xander was the first to come over to her.

“Sure, I’ll hold back the old guy,” the dark brown haired boy said.

“You try anything and they’ll be picking your teeth up from the floor!” Giles threatened.

“Anytime you want a rematch, just say it!” Xander thundered, his eyes deadly.

Before the Watcher could retort, Willow fought back another sniffle as she pulled herself together. “Now, guys stop it!” she shouted. “This isn’t helping! And it isn’t helping Buffy! She’s out there, fighting Lord-knows what Angel or anything else has cooked up for her, and we’re in here! Seems to me that we should work together rather than going on about how we feel!”

Giles settled down, as did Xander. Oz’s expression was, as always, unreadable. He turned back around from facing the door and regarded the other two guys.

The Watcher said, “You’re right, Willow, of course,”. “We shall pool our resources, as it were, and after Angelus and his minions are defeated, then we will make her choose!”

Jenny picked up some books off the floor. She smiled as she guessed what was making them so worked up over Buffy.

“Willow, could you do me a favor?” she asked the red head. “Could you get on the computer and look up everything you can on love spells, and who in town might be capable of casting them?”

Willow looked at Miss Calendar, then, glad that she had something to do to take her mind off of Oz and her friends, the girl opened her knapsack and withdrew her laptop.

XXXXXXXXXXX

While her best friend was researching in the library, Buffy threw her first punch at Angelus. Drusilla punched her in the lower back which, had Buffy not moved slightly, could have severely incapacitated the Slayer.

Angelus gestured with his fingers while he taunted, “C’mon, Buff! You don’t want Dru, now do you? You want me!”

Buffy aimed a well-placed kick at the elder vamp’s private parts, but Angelus sidestepped her. When she tried to put her leg down, Drusilla grabbed it, flinging Buffy off. The Chosen One landed on her butt, but quickly got up.

“On my way here,” Angelus was saying between punches, “I saw several guys headed toward you. Seems they were panting for you.” He punched Buffy in her chest. The Slayer winced, but didn’t say anything.

“Can’t see why, though,” Angelus told her matter-of-factly. “Take it from one who knows, you’re not that good, sex wise!”

He kicked her in the side. Buffy went down as her former boyfriend went on. Drusilla grinned evilly, watching her sire pummel the Slayer with his usual finesse.

“But I’m guessing that you tried some sort of spell on them, or someone else did, and it isn’t affecting me,” he said coldly, fixing her with a derisive stare as she struggled to rise. “’Cause Buff, I really can’t see the male population of Sunnydale being interested in a stupid cow like you!”

As she rose, the Slayer felt an all consuming rage. “If that makes me a ‘stupid cow’ Angel,” she said in a low voice, “what does that make you for trying me in the first place?”

Angel frowned; Buffy punched him in the face. His lip started bleeding. When he raised his hand to his mouth to wipe it, the girl kicked him between his legs. Angel went down, moaning.

“Daddy!!” Drusilla said, going over to him.

She helped him stand, but then grabbed Buffy from behind with lightning speed before the Slayer could pull out a weapon. The raven haired vampiress tightened her embrace. Buffy gasped with pain.
She felt herself weakening suddenly, still tired out from having fought Spike earlier and from the two master vampires attacking her at the same time.

Buffy went slack in Drusilla’s arms. The female vampire let her drop like a sack of wheat, then she kicked the Slayer. Buffy moaned, trying to crawl away. She knew her only chance lay in going back to the school and finding something stronger to deal with both vampires.

Before she could go far, Angelus put a booted foot on her back. Buffy struggled to rise. The male vampire pressed his heel further into her body. Drusilla went toward her sire but then found herself jerked to the ground by a purple shadow.

“The Slayerr is ourrss…” a voice hissed from the darkness.

Angelus whipped around, still trying to restrain Buffy anyway that he could. Another purple hued demon threw him to the ground. Recognizing a Ra’sha’hoo demon, Angel stayed down, an inward fit of rage showing only in his eyes, but with seemingly humble surrender outwardly. Drusilla, however, was starting to get up. The insane vampiress felt a burning sensation on her left arm.

She screamed, moaning, “Angel! The acid burns!”

A lavender hued demon said in a deadly voice, “So shall you burn for hurting the one intended to be oursss! The Slayer has been marked with my brother’s tongue as his mate.”

Dru’s healing ability was working as she felt the burning subsiding but she still clutched her arm protectively as Buffy saw her chance to get away. The demons followed Buffy toward the location the Slayer was heading to. Both Angelus and Drusilla started chasing them, albeit slowly.

When Buffy reached the school she heard gunshots firing, followed by three thuds. The girl looked over her shoulder out and saw the demons falling. The Slayer climbed into the window leading to the gym.

The gunman fired a second time hitting Angelus and Drusilla. By that time, Buffy was staring in front of her, training her eyes to see whether or not the gym had any occupants. The Slayer confirmed that the gym was deserted and turned on the light.

**Great!** She thought. **Bad enough to deal with the acid throwers and my ex with his crazed daughter; now, I’ve got a shooter, too! When I get out of this, I am SO gonna take a vacation!**

XXXXXXXXX

Outside the school, the rifleman followed the girl, cocking the gun and smiling as his eyes danced with anticipation. He spared no glance at the two vampires painfully writhing on the ground. Only his target mattered. After checking the demons and confirming that they were deceased, the rifleman stepped over them and headed for the gym.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Inside, Buffy dialed Jenny Calendar’s number.

“Yes?” the computer teacher’s voice asked a little harshly. “What is it?”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Heading for the locker room, Buffy asked, “Miss Calendar? I’m inside the gym. I couldn’t stop Angelus or Drusilla. There are also some demons outside, too...or at least there were. I think they’re dead.”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Jenny’s voice sounded agitated. “Both Angelus and Drusilla are on their way here?” she repeated. On her laptop, typing furiously, Willow shuddered. She kept on breaking through security locks until she found something and peered at the screen.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“They were, but they’re down for the moment. We don’t have much time. I can’t explain everything right now,” Buffy said hurriedly. She looked around the locker room, but only saw towels and some discarded uniforms. Going back into the gym, the Chosen One spied something suddenly that had her lips twitching in a grin.

“Get everyone out as fast as you can! I’ll try to draw them after me,” she told the teacher. She picked up a hockey stick and swung it until she developed a rhythm.

XXXXXXXXXXXX
“Right!” Jenny said. She saw Willow frowning just as she hung up.

“We’ve gotta get out,” the dark haired older woman told everyone. “Oz, you, Xander, and Giles get to work.”

“Count on it,” Oz said, leading the others out until only Willow and Jenny were still inside the library. The pair started to pack up their things and had finished a few minutes later when the sound of a fire alarm was heard.

“Great!” Jenny said. “Just what we need right now: a fire!” Willow went outside first, sniffing to see if she could spot its location. She came back inside the library, confused.

“There’s no fire...at least, not one that I can smell,” she reported to Miss Calendar. The computer teacher was putting the books about vampires and Angelus under the desk as sprinklers started bursting and raining their water all over the library a second later.

**That should protect them!** The older woman decided.

Jenny spotted a soaked Oz in the hallway as she and Willow made their way toward the exit. She had a sneaking suspicion about who had started the fire alarm.

“You didn’t...?” she asked Oz. A slight grin crossed his face. Jenny decided that he would get a reprimand later.

“It was the only way to get everyone out at the same time,” Oz said.

They all went toward the exit doors, peering outside the tiny glass windows to see if anyone or anything evil was lurking outside.

“Looks clear,” Miss Calendar told the students. “I hope Buffy will be all right.”

“She’s the Slayer. She can deal,” Oz said with admiration.

Willow felt a pang of jealousy just then. She knew that he couldn’t help the way the spell was making him feel, but when she took the time to examine herself, she sometimes realized that she had always been slightly envious of Buffy, particularly the way she looked.

The redhead would kill to have Buffy’s figure, her blonde hair, and half of the guys including the boy she had known since she had been in footies following her around. She even wondered at times what it was like to be a Slayer, to have all the strength and power to help people by killing vampires and demons.

Buffy’s titian haired best friend knew, though, that she had no business thinking those thoughts. Willow had her place in the world, and she did help Buffy out a lot. At least Buffy was nice to her and wasn’t stuck up like Harmony or Cordelia.

**Besides, I wouldn’t pay to be where Buffy is right now,** Willow thought as she joined Miss Calendar, Giles, Oz, and Xander inside Giles’s car. The Watcher got out some holy water and set about dousing his car with it, and then all inside waited for the Chosen One to come out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy finished swinging the hockey stick and waited for Angelus and Drusilla. She knew that, acidic demons or no acidic demons, it would not take long for her enemies to surface. She slid the metal lock across the front door to keep the other students out and shook the drops out of her now wet hair.

The fire, if there was one, might keep Angel and Dru out of the front entrance since they would be afraid of being burned, but it wouldn’t keep them out of the side entrances or the back. Her determined look in place, Buffy decided she would be ready for any eventuality. She also checked to see if she could disarm whoever had the rifle and was shooting it. If not, she would dive beneath the benches the students used whenever there was a game going on. It was a small comfort, she supposed, that she couldn't sense Spike, at least not nearby.

The Slayer did a search, but she didn’t see anyone or anything inside the room. She wasn’t surprised; it was just like her enemies to try to confuse her, and although she could sense vampires occassionally, she still had a lot to learn.

A side door opened just then. The Slayer jerked the hockey stick in front of her. When she didn’t see any other movements, she spun around, looking warily as she turned. She heard the jingle of keys. A man in a janitor’s uniform entered the room, looking as though he wanted to speak, but was not able to.

“Get out!” Buffy barked. When he didn’t move, she crossed over to him, asking in a louder voice, “did you hear me?!”

It was then that the man fell forward. She turned his head around and saw thick scratch marks littering the right side of his neck.

“Drusilla,” Buffy murmured. In a louder voice, she said, “all right! Playtime’s over! I know you’ve found me; just step out where I can see you!”

The Slayer was tackled to the ground just then. She struggled to throw off her attacker. As she looked up, Buffy saw Angelus standing over her, sporting a vicious grin.

“Surprise...” he said.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Willow gnawed on her lower lip while she sat in the tiny car. She thought about the best way to break the news about the data she had found to Miss Calendar when Willow had looked up some more of the witches in the area.

Ever since the new school year had started, the red head had felt different, as though power was rushing through her. She had kept any and all of that information from Oz and her family, and she certainly wasn’t telling Xander, Buffy or Giles until she knew what she was dealing with.

Miss Calendar would not have found out about Willow and the latent energy building up inside her except that the girl just happened to be the only student who had stayed late one afternoon, and the computer teacher saw one sample of Willow’s power.

It had only been an eraser which had moved across the room, and the dark haired older woman had only seen it fly for a fraction of an instant from the blackboard to the water pail for soaking, but that had been enough.

It had been unconsciously that Willow had done such a minor thing, and she had felt, well…weird doing it, and the redhead expected to be reprimanded. But no harsh judgment ever came. Jenny had actually been encouraging, explaining to Willow that ever since Angel’s conversion into Angelus and Buffy’s depression over what had happened, the gypsy woman had been trying to locate witches and other supernaturally powered people to try to secure the vampire’s soul inside of an Orb of Thessalah.

Jenny’s mandate had been that a happy Slayer was a better Slayer for the good of mankind. (It also couldn’t hurt to have Angel’s information on vampires so that she could kill them more efficiently.)

Miss Calendar had also told her brightest student that she’d felt that, knowing what she did about Buffy’s calling, it was best to have all those who could aid the Slayer on standby in case something major happened and the girl needed major league assistance. So it was, as often as school and other duties would permit, Jenny would train Willow in the use of basic magic tricks.

Like with computers, the titian haired Jewish girl was learning things rapidly. Sadly, though, Willow was nowhere near as skilled as to visit a love spell on Buffy, and both teacher and student knew it.

But Amy Madison was.

“Miss Calendar…Giles, I have to speak with you,” Willow said from her seat inside the car.

“Does it concern Buffy?” the Watcher asked. “I must know! We should be at her side, no matter what. She needs our help!”

“And what are you gonna do when you reach her?” Xander asked with a mocking tone. “Process talk her enemies to death?”

Giles was affronted. He huffed slightly and rearranged his glasses on his nose the way he tended to when he was upset.

“I happen to know magic spells which could aid my Slayer,” he began. Jenny grabbed his shoulder to silence him.

“I remember some of your past dealings with magic, but do even you have the skill that’s anywhere near as powerful enough to cast or remove a love spell?” she asked gently. Giles ground his teeth, but made no further comments.

Looking at the budding witch, Miss Calendar prompted Willow, “You said you had something to tell me and Giles?”

The female student knew that she would have to be reveal-y girl to everyone. There was just no way around it. She powered up her laptop, glad that she had charged up its battery earlier that day.

The redhead found the screen she was looking for and showed Jenny its information. “See, here…that’s Amy Madison,” Willow clarified, willing the screen to show a clearer, less grainy picture.

Giles exclaimed, “That’s the girl whose mystically enhanced mother tried to take over her daughter’s body and destroy Buffy last year!”

“So she’s powerful enough to remove a spell like this one?” Willow asked, curious.

“Maybe…” Jenny responded, looking at the screen again.

She hoped that they would be able to reach the girl to take back the incantation. Her dark orbs saw another girl—the recipient of the spell. If that second girl could be contacted somehow….The teacher quit her musings and looked closely for any clues. A moment later, she stopped short.

It was the beaker with Angel’s name on it and the image of the other girl that had the computer instructor staring and frowning with extreme anger a moment later.

“Buffy!” Jenny whispered in a low, furious voice. “BUFFY is the initiator who got Amy to make all of this happen.” All of the car’s occupants tried to process the information.

“Buffy would not do such a thing!” Giles exclaimed vehemently.

“Even if she did, she wouldn’t make a mistake…” Oz chimed in.

“She’s perfect! Why would she need a spell?” Xander asked, confused in his extreme adoration for all things Buffy.

Both Miss Calendar and Willow exchanged a look. Things were getting worse, and if they were getting worse where they were, what about any males that saw Buffy out there?

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“Now here’s a position I never thought I’d do again,” Angelus taunted, still holding Buffy down. “One where you’re looking up at me...”. He pushed at her so that she was on her back... “flat on your back and waiting.”

With all of her might, Buffy shoved him off. Drusilla went to help Angelus, but she was pulled outside. The vampiress looked at her attacker, and then her lips turned downward.

“Spike...” she said, not really surprised.

“Hey, baby,” the vampire jeered, his game face on. “Miss me?”

Drusilla had but there was no way she would tell him that. She knew it wouldn’t do her any good. The starts and planets had predicted William’s defection, even when he had physically been with her and her Daddy. The stars had told her of his betrayal, and the stars were never wrong, particularly when they joined the moon in one of her visions.

“Betrayer!” she cried coherently.

He sent a kick to her midsection. “That all you’ve got to say?” he asked. He punched her in her cheek.

Drusilla was irate. She attacked her childe without hesitation, bucking his flying fists and kicks.

Spike saw the gym doors flying open when Angelus kicked them accidentally after Buffy had ducked his punt. He saw the Slayer aiming an arm hold on Angelus’ neck after she’d kicked him several times.

Meanwhile, Drusilla lashed out with her nails, cutting Spike’s black shirt open.

“You only get in that one shot, Dru,” Spike said, his anger rising.

He jumped back from Drusilla’s swinging arms, never taking his eyes off of hers. Inside the gym, Buffy and Angelus were fighting for control of the hockey stick the Slayer had grabbed during the other fight to overpower her ex boyfriend.

In the hall, Spike leapt over Drusilla, grabbing her and pinning her with his arms. He placed his arm around her neck and crushed her windpipe just enough to knock her out.

“What c’n I say, pet?” he asked, dragging her to a nearby closet and barring the door. “Love hurts; so does betrayal.”

When Angelus rammed the stick into Buffy’s stomach. Spike saw his attack and was furious.

**She’s MINE, you poof!!** His demon screamed inside his mind. **You don’t touch what’s mine!** The blond vampire went inside to join the fray.

XXXXXXXXXXX

“Buffy must have had a good reason to cast the spell,” Willow found herself saying, even though she didn’t believe it.

Grunts of assent and agreement were heard from the three still spellbound men. Jenny whirled on the only other non-smitten person in the car.

“Oh, really?” she said in a harsh tone to Willow. “Well, let me tell you something about love spells: there are none! Those so called spells breed obsessions, not love. They rob the subjects of all reason and rational behavior. If this isn’t stopped, the dam will continue to burst, until...”. Jenny couldn’t bring herself to continue.

**What am I doing?** She thought. **Rupert should be doing this, not me!**

“I’m sorry...” Willow said, feeling like she was the biggest idiot for not seeing the dangers in casting a love spell. Jenny forced herself to calm down. She realized that for the moment, she was the only adult who could take care of everyone until Buffy made it out of the school.

“Okay,” she said softly, “okay...Willow, I’m sorry, really.” The girl smiled.

“We have to do is find Amy, no matter what,” the teacher said. “She has to take off this spell.”

The woman and the girl looked at the man and the two boys. They looked as if they couldn’t contain themselves from not being with Buffy much longer.

“But what if she still isn’t in town?” Willow asked, panicked. “What then?”

“We search for a way to remove it ourselves,” Jenny told her.

Willow was aghast; she didn’t think she would have the strength let alone the right books and talismans to take off the spell. Absentmindedly, she wondered if Angel had been affected by the magic as much as Oz, Xander, Giles, and others seemed to be.

“The Magic Shop on Lake Street would be our safest bet,” Giles told the woman, stealing a glance back at the school where Buffy was.

“We should go there to collect supplies, and some more advanced tomes on how to reverse the spell,” the Watcher said, though he really didn’t believe he was under any spell. Their minds made up, the group waited as Willow searched for Amy’s number on the Internet.

XXXXXXXXXX

Amy’s father, Michael A. Madison, was lounging on his sofa, his eyes tired but his whole demeanor cheerful. It didn’t take much these days to make him happy; just a hit of The Juice was enough. He was glad that he had hooked up with his new friend, Rack.

So what if his friend was of the demonic persuasion? So what if Rack also demanded a year of a person’s life for a hit? If the demon wanted to fix things so that Michael lost a couple of years off of his pathetic human existence, well, people always made sacrifices. Besides, Michael reasoned, what did it matter when he died so long as he died happy?

It wasn’t as though Michael was going places by himself, anyway.

Michael, or Mic as people referred to him, was a handsome man. He had striking grey eyes set in a round face, and blond hair. Despite his looks however, the father of one had never been good at the things that really mattered in life. He had been in and out of more jobs and just as many relationships. His magic abilities had always been second rate. It was too bad, he thought, that his daughter Amy took after him more than her powerful much more magically accurate mother.

His mind, or what little was left of it after his latest fix, conjured up an image of his estranged wife, Catherine. A lone tear ran down his expressive face as he thought about better times between them, like the day they had first met at a magic festival deep in the California mountains. From then, it had been love at first sight, or at least it had been that way for him.

The auburn haired, pretty-but-not-gorgeous older woman by eleven years had impressed Michael with her looks, her charms, her spells. She had wormed her way into his heart without even knowing what she’d done. When they exchanged vows three months later, Michael had thought he’d died and gone to Heaven. Whenever they had exchanged thoughts and mentally bonded courtesy of his wife’s mojo, the soft spoken Texan’s heart soared. With her, he could do anything, be anything.

The next year, Catherine told him excitedly that she was expecting a little girl. The proud parents had decided automatically that they would name their daughter Amy, after the baby’s maternal grandmother. After the little blonde haired, grey eyed child had been born, Michael got a job at a factory which actually paid fairly well while Catherine kept house. For the first two years, all was happy.

But Michael had learned at the hands of his divorced parents that true happiness was an illusion, that it was just a prelude to the sadness which lay just a fraction beyond. He didn’t see it coming at first, but as Amy started walking—and she started showing some magic ability—her mother seemed distant toward her.

The lovely girl grew in looks as well as potential, but her mother just grew older, her daughter’s youth and exuberance serving as a constant reminder that despite all of Catherine’s magic prowess, she could not turn back the hands of time.

Although her mother had never struck her daughter or denied Michael his husbandly rights in bed, the magically inept warlock knew that his wife had already left him.

But no matter how distant his wife had become, Michael didn’t blame Amy. He looked at Amy with the same awe in which he had held his wife, happy to be doubly blessed with two great angels. When he saw Catherine for what would be the last time on Amy’s seventeenth birthday, Michael promised himself then and there that he would do anything to make himself and his little girl happy.

“Dad?” Amy’s sleepy voice cut through his thoughts as the thin, shy girl made her way into the living room.

Michael fought back the headache he always got whenever the drug Rack had provided, called D’Amnbrosia by proper name, and “The Juice” by street witches and warlocks started to wear off.

“Yeah, baby?” he croaked to his daughter. Amy sidled down next to him on the couch.

“You okay?” she asked, her face looking at the man who was not much older than she was.

Michael’s grey eyes opened and he looked at his little girl. He had managed a camouflaging spell to disguise their red rimmed appearance so that his eyes and face looked normal.

“Yeah, baby...” he said in a weary voice. “Daddy’s just tired.”

Amy hesitated for a moment. She knew that her father would never hurt her, either physically or emotionally, but she wasn’t sure if she should tell him about her casting a love spell. The witch knew that those spells tended to be dangerous if the intent of the person requesting said spell was anything but pure.

Buffy’s had been about vengeance, and the Cards told Amy that there were strange things surrounding the other girl; strange, out-of-control things. The young witch’s eyes dropped to the ground.

Michael continued staring at Amy, trying to process what was going on. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.

Amy still hesitated, not sure where to begin. “Have you ever cast a love spell?” she asked finally.

Her father thought about that. He had never done a spell of that caliber, but Michael supposed he could if he had the right books. His eyes never blinked as he studied his daughter.

“No,” he said. “Why? Have you done one?” It was then that Amy started to cry. Michael pulled her into a hug.

“What is it, baby?” he asked. “What’s bothering you?” Amy stopped crying when her father released her.

“I...I did one,” she said, adding rapidly, “it was just for a fellow student so that she could get her boyfriend back! I didn’t consult the Cards before doing it! I had no idea that it wouldn’t be okay!”

Michael asked dubiously, “Aren’t those always powerful?” He felt the stirrings of a headache as he forced his mind to work.

“They are, Dad!” Amy shouted, extremely upset. “That’s why I’m so worried! I looked at the Cards afterwards, and they point to a series of events that could be affected by what I’ve done! I don’t know how to undo the spell so that everything’s okay again!” Her tears were flowing more freely as she said, “Mom told me never to do a love spell unless I absolutely knew what I was doing and how to reverse it if I had to!”

Michael hugged his daughter again, stroking her hair. “It’s okay, baby,” he soothed.

They pulled apart again and Amy reached for some tissues. He poured some orange colored liquid into a pitcher and dropped an amber stone into it.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Daddy’s gonna fix it,” he said, drinking a small glass of the liquid. “Daddy’ll figure a way out of this, just wait and see.” Michael’s eyes started widening. They grew black as he downed more of the potent liquid. He fisted one hand and touched Amy’s temple. He gave Amy some of the wondrous liquid, which she drank eagerly.

The young witch felt her father rubbing the side of her head in a relaxing motion. As her mind started clouding, she wondered, **what was I thinking about again?**

The phone started ringing, but both father and daughter were too far gone despite their presence on the couch to hear it. Michael grabbed Amy’s hand, and together they flew amongst the stars. Amy felt her eyes turn black as she O. D.’d on the pleasure the magic high was giving her.

“See, baby?” Michael said with a thick, slurred voice. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll always take care of you, and you’ll always be happy.”

“Yeah, Dad...” Amy said in a voice just as slow. “Can we stay here for awhile?”

“As long as you want, baby,” Michael told his daughter. “I’ll hook us up with more of the Juice once I see Rack again, okay?”

Amy nodded, giggling. She succumbed to the powerful sensations she was feeling and willed the phone to stop ringing. When it stopped, the girl settled down and breathed deeply but otherwise didn’t move. Michael joined her, both father and daughter bonding, not concerned with any of the goings on in the Hellmouth that they lived on.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

When attempts to reach Amy proved unsuccessful, Giles drove everyone to the Magic Shop. It was closed for the evening, but Jenny, Giles, Oz and Willow would not be put off. Xander agreed to serve as lookout in case there were any late night visitors to the shop.

Thankful that there was no alarm wired into the glass door to the front entrance, Giles took his jacket and, covering his hand with it, hit the door with all of his might. When the glass broke, he reached in with his hand and turned the door handle from the inside.

The co conspirators walked inside, hoping that they would be able to find a cure for the spell themselves. They grabbed whatever books they could find, and reversal spell materials, and love spell books. A moment later, they returned to the car.

CHAPTER TEN

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy moved slightly slower as she moved to attack Angelus but she didn’t wait for the pain in her abdomen to subside. She knew that if she delayed her assault for even one moment, the elder vampire would kill her, or worse, turn her into his slave.

The Slayer knew that she didn’t want to be controlled by him for all eternity as his childe. That was not of the good.Her mind flashed back to Spike and his counter offer.

"You’d never have to let anyone else, not even your destiny as a Slayer, dictate to you what you should do," he had said.

As she remembered the moment they’d shared tasting each other’s lips, Buffy had to admit that being by the blond vampire’s side was a tempting proposition.

**Bad Buffy!** She admonished herself. Hadn’t she told Spike that his offer was out of the question? The Slayer allowed herself one brief fantasy of the younger vampire lying beneath her, her legs raised; her inner walls between them clutched around his very firm manhood.

**VERY bad Buffy!** She told herself again, banishing the memory before Angel got a good idea of where her mind was straying. A good, swift kick to her lower back told her that her ex boyfriend didn’t see any tell tale signs of her thoughts or desire, or, if he did, he simply didn’t care.

“Hey, Buff…” Angel taunted, “you’re way too quiet for someone who’s gonna die in the next thirty seconds. What’s the matter? Did I stun you into submission?”

He grabbed a nearby hockey stick and lunged for the Chosen One, but Buffy, who’d fully recovered by this time, grabbed the would-be weapon from its opposite side.

“Nope,” she quipped. “Could you please get over yourself? You are so of the boring!”

Angelus’ ridged face contorted with fury from Buffy’s mocking. The Slayer rained punches on the master vampire’s his face. He grunted, trying to defend himself. Before Angelus could give Buffy a taste of her own medicine, several bullets streaked past the pair. Out of the corner of her eye, the girl saw a shadow on the wall...and she felt a familiar stirring inside of her body.

Beside her, Angelus’ nose twitched as he smelled something. The pair’s questions were put to rest when the figure holding the rifle showed himself—Spike.

“Spike?!” Buffy exclaimed aloud, “SPIKE is the rifleman who killed all those demons?”

For the first time in a long time, Angelus tensed a little beside her. Outwardly, he projected absolute calm; inwardly, his body shook with fear.

Several other bullets rained down on the duo, followed by a jeering, “Slayer? Peaches? I know you’re in there! C’mon, let’s dance!”

With practiced, deliberate slowness, Spike entered the side of the gym that was opposite where his prey was.

Buffy and Angelus dove for cover amongst the bleechers. The Slayer spied the locker room and hoped that she would make it there and find a way to disarm Spike before it was too late.

XXXXXXXXXXX

“I’ll look inside the General Book of Magic and see if maybe there’s a clue to love spells,” Miss Calendar told the students and Watcher.

Wanting to be helpful despite his disbelief, Giles piped in, “Willow, perhaps you may wrest some information out of your dread machine.”

Willow turned on her laptop, then showed Giles and Miss Calendar all the data she found on love spells and their possible removal.

“This is so stupid!” Xander protested. “Why are we even bothering with this? It’s not like we need a spell removal, since we’re not under any spell!”

“Right,” Willow said sarcastically, “’cause Buffy and you are so right for each other.”

Oz put in his two cents. “Actually, I was thinking that Buffy’s more a musician chick than a Harris groupie!” the werewolf replied.

“Let’s not go into this again!” Giles shouted.

He peered at the data screen Willow had pulled up. Moments later, he pointed to a reversal spell and tilted the laptop toward Jenny.

“That may help, but let’s look for something that also fits this specific case,” the computer teacher said.

She also thought about the dressing down she would be giving the Slayer, to say nothing about how Buffy’s friends would feel after everything was back to normal. The gang continued looking at the tiny screen as, outside, the pre-dawn sky was forming.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy jerked her head in the direction of the locker room, signaling to Angelus. He saw a discarded football and tossed it where Spike was standing. The blond vampire turned just enough for the Slayer and the elder vampire to sneak into the other room.

Angelus pulled some of the lockers in front of the door. Both settled down to wait, the Slayer whipping out her cell phone so that they had light in the darkened room; the vampire reaching out with his senses to see exactly where his grandchilde was and how close he was to finding them.

Buffy shined her tiny light above her head to see if there were any open windows. A cursory look indicated that the sky was reddening, announcing the dawn that wasn’t far behind. She also saw a utility closet and whispered, “quick! In here!”

Angelus and the Chosen One went inside the small room. There was barely enough room for the bigger vampire’s bulk and her, but they turned sideways. Buffy could feel the chill radiating off of his body. Angelus frowned as he got a whiff of her sweet Vanilla essence.

“Is he still out there?” Buffy asked, still trying to come to grips with the fact that Spike had killed all of the demons and was stalking them with his rifle.

She was also trying to understand why she’d helped Angelus, who definitely would try to kill her in the space they now occupied.

The elder vampire listened and tuned his sense toward the other vampire. “Yeah,” he reported, “my idiot grandchilde is still out there, and he’s getting closer!”

Buffy remembered the layout of the room. If she could keep Angel busy long enough to get to the open windows she had seen and climb out one of them, she could escape.

She tuned her hearing on Spike, but could not hear his footsteps. After using the light in her cell phone to illuminate Angelus’ now human face, the Slayer faced the vampire, instructing, “Okay, a few rules: you do what I tell you, I might let you live; you don’t do what I say, I’ll definitely stake you! Deal?”

Angelus rolled his eyes, but soon muttered, “Deal.”

Buffy shined her light along the floor, looking for any kind of weapon they could use against Spike.

“We’ve gotta find something to disarm him with,” she said softly, searching. “Make yourself useful: vamp out and see if you can spot anything. Your eyes are better than mine.”

Angelus did as the Slayer asked, murmuring, “Just what I always wanted: to be locked inside a smelly closet with my ex while my crazed lunatic of a grandson is shooting at us! Maybe Dru really DID drive him insane!”

Buffy was tired of Angel and Spike, as well as any other monsters. She had not gotten any sleep all night, and she didn’t want to hear her ex’s commentary on the state of all things evil right then.

“You could always go out there!” she quipped. “Giles told me your kind can withstand bullets!”

“Well, did Mr. Square One also mention that bullets hurt like hell?” Angel snapped.

“Gee, for the price of admission, I’d toss you out there myself to see that show: Spike puts Angelus in the Hospital: Act One, Scene One!” the Slayer said sarcastically even as she filed that additional information away in her mind.

“Now I know why you were so desperate to get my grandchilde and everyone hot and bothered for you! You didn’t have any friends except for the...what is it now...grand total of maybe five losers, so you embraced the black arts!” Angel accused in a low voice.

“That wasn’t why I did it!” Buffy whispered, her face turning white with her anger.

“Besides,” she added, “is it so hard to think all the guys in Sunnydale just simply want me?”

“Yeah, Buff,” Angelus retorted, “it kinda is!”

Buffy went back to looking for anything they could use to their advantage. When she saw Angel merely standing with his arms crossed, the Slayer glared at him.

“You could at least try to stop him!” she urged. It was then that the Slayer saw a momentary look of fear crossing Angel’s face.

With a touch of false bravado, Angelus told her, “Wouldn’t do any good.” Ironically, Angelus felt a little bit proud of Spike’s ingenuity, though he would never tell anyone that!

“Why?” Buffy asked.

“I saw the rifle briefly, and smelled the bullets as they discharged,” he responded. “That weapon is a Spirit rifle. It was made by the spirit of Wyncheaster himself! It’s magic allows the user to not only wish it into existence whenever the user wants it to materialize, it also fires as many bullets as the person firing it wants!”

“So, as long as Spike is thinking about how many rounds he wants to shoot us with, and as long as he’s able to conjure up that thing, he could fire on us ‘til the Apocalypse?” Buffy clarified.

“Something like that,” Angelus said grimly. Buffy looked determined.

“Then we have to knock him out long enough to disarm him and get out of here!” she said. Before the pair could make another move, the outer door was jerked open. Spike’s footsteps came closer to the closet door.

**Trapped!** Both vampire and Slayer thought.

BEWITCHED AND BOTHERED

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Oh, Slay-errrr…", Spike's voice sounded like a sing-song from directly outside of the closet. "Poo-oof!" The blond vampire's footsteps stopped.

"I know you're in there! Come on!" he taunted. Inside the closet, both Slayer and elder vampire heard a rifle being cocked.

Buffy signaled to Angelus. Fortunately for her, the 240-year-old was good at interpreting hand movements. For a tense moment, no one twitched a muscle; then, as Spike readied himself to jerk the door open, it slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. The rifle discharged, firing its bullet into the ceiling. Buffy and her ex split up: she, kicking the rifle to the left; he, going into the gym to find a stronger weapon.

The Slayer saw Spike rising out of the corner of her eye. She kicked him viciously in the groin so that he saw stars.

Gotta keep him down! Gotta break his concentration! She thought. Spike slammed his arm into hers, blocking the blow she would have reigned on him. Vamping out, the revenant went for her head, but Buffy grabbed his arm and twisted with all her might.

"Oi!" Spike said, jerking it back. "That hurt, you li'l bitch!"

"Good!" Buffy said. She and Spike traded blows as the image of the rifle receded from his mind.

XXXXXXXXXXX

In the car, Willow was staring at the information displayed on the laptop. "According to this," she said after a moment, "in order for the spell to work, we need to do the same thing in the same exact spot again. Seems that the science lab is a magic hot spot."

"So we have to go to the lab and do what we saw Buffy and Amy doing?" Xander asked.

"Totally cyclical," Oz commented.

Before Jenny or anyone else could say or do anything, several demons walked past the Magic Shop. Some bore the purple hue of the Ra'sha'hoo; others were scaly or slimy demons; on the opposite end, some humans were also walking past the store.

Willow pointed outside the window, saying, "Uh, guys…we may have a bigger problem…".

Jenny saw the direction the beings were taking and shuddered. "They're heading East, towards the school," she breathed. "Giles, we have to go there." She took out her cell phone, but the battery indicator was flashing.

The computer teacher cursed as she realized that it was dead. "Does anyone else have a cell phone that works?" Jenny asked. Oz helpfully handed her his cell phone. The teacher dialed, but then she got Buffy's voice mail. When she reported that to the others, Giles grimaced.

"Well, that's no help!" the Watcher exclaimed. "Why is it that people buy a transitory phone only to shut it down at the most inopportune moments? Such a bloody inconvenience!"

Giles threw the gear into reverse and said, "I pray that we are not too late to sort things out and undo this dreadful spell."

The Watcher drove back at breakneck speed.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Inside Sunnydale High, Principal Roy Snyder was licking his lips like he always did whenever he caught one of the students doing something illegal, or simply whenever he wanted revenge. Policemen were with him, having accompanied the firemen who came in response to the alarm.

The firefighters had finished their investigations, having deemed the non-existent emergency to be a possible short circuit in the alarm system since Sunnydale High's had not been checked as regularly as the other, larger schools. The Principal knew better. He would have bet his life that the alarm had been caused deliberately, and that Buffy Summers, a confirmed troublemaker, had been at the heart of it. To that end, Snyder had convinced the police to stay a little longer, telling them that he was not quite sure if the fire emergency had been due to a faulty circuit.

The Principal was in his element. He had waited for Buffy to return; then, when it had looked like she was standing him up, he had called the authorities about the alarm that had rung. Sunnydale carried the strictest penalties given the unusual occurrences that happened there daily if a person created an emergency under false pretenses.

Snyder inwardly thanked the Mayor for his no tolerance policy concerning fraudulent alarms to cope with the strain the emergencies placed on the police and fire departments.

To Roy, this could actually be a win-win situation. After all, if Buffy was found guilty of a crime like committing fraud by pulling a fire alarm hoax and his beautiful chick was behind bars even if it was only temporary…well, she couldn't go anywhere, now could she? And, that way, Buffy couldn't reject him by not showing up to be with him. He could visit her at his leisure, and maybe make a deal with her and her snooty mother.

"You sure this is warranted?" an officer wanted to know.

The older man was totally oblivious to the policeman's question as he only thought about the Summers girl. Snyder knew exactly how to play this.

If Buffy went to a holding cell for all of the numerous crimes she had done desperate to want to avoid some serious trouble with the law, she would do anything, even fall into his arms.

He realized the officers were waiting for an answer. Extracting the folder from the drawer with the papers he had not yet torn up, the Principal threw it to the cops. One plucked it from the floor and began looking at the information on Buffy Summers. The youngest cop whistled as he read the information.

Peering at the Principal, he asked, "You sure about all this? Did she really burn down a gymnasium in San Francisco?"

"It's all right there in the record," Snyder responded. The officer nodded, his face grim.

"Given that she is still a minor, she could end up in a juvie hall," he said. "The only problem is that there doesn't seem to be a taping of this incident. Looks like conjecture rather than solid evidence even though she was caught fleeing the scene. We'll have to check this out."

The officer made a mental note to inquire about Buffy's behavior with the Henley High School's principal as soon as possible.

"We'll also want to involve her mother," he added. "Maybe she can provide more information."

Good luck with that plan! Snyder thought sarcastically.

He remembered how Joyce Summers had jumped to her daughter's defense when Buffy took matters into her own hands during parent-teacher night when the drug crazed gang had invaded the school. But unfortunately, the law was the law. Of course, if Roy Snyder sounded convincing enough, he could turn Buffy's mother against her. Without a parental leg to stand on, the young upstart would be his for sure.

Snyder grinned as he picked up the desk phone with relish. "It'll be a pleasure to clue Mrs. Summers in," he said, punching in the buttons for Buffy's mother's phone number.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Joyce Summers woke up tiredly to hear the phone ringing. At first, she had thought she was dreaming, given the earliness of call, but when the phone kept ringing the elder Summers sighed, picking it up, her curly, unkempt hair dropping in front of her face.

"Hello…?" she asked. She heard a slimy sounding male voice, but couldn't make it out.

"Would you mind repeating that?" she requested, rubbing the tiredness out of her eyes. When she heard Principal Roy Snyder's voice, Buffy's mother sat straight up in her bed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

In his office, Snyder said slowly, "Mrs. Summers, I have reason to believe that your daughter is here at the school and she is in a lot of trouble. You need to come here and get her right away, or I will turn her over to the police!"

A policeman grabbed the phone. Amidst Snyder's protest, the cop glared at the Principal. He knew Joyce Summers from the times he'd helped her at the art gallery, and she seemed to be a nice, friendly woman. Of course, that didn't mean she, or her daughter, weren't guilty of something. One could never tell simply by looking at a person.

"Mrs. Summers, this is Deputy Chief Henry Harrison…you know, from the attempted theft of some artifacts from the gallery about a week ago?" Harrison's deep base tone said.

XXXXXXXXXX

As Joyce threw off the covers, she smiled, despite herself. The policeman with the café-au-lait complexion and slight Caribbean accent had seemed nice, and he hadn't been judgmental when it was established that no robbery had taken place.

"Hello, Officer Harrison," she greeted. "What can I do for you?" She heard Harrison ask if she had seen her daughter.

"Buffy is asleep in bed," Joyce said. Buffy's mother just knew her daughter couldn't be out and about at this hour, especially since she had told the younger Summers that Buffy was supposed to be home by eleven.

"Could you check, ma'am?" Harrison's voice asked. "It's really important."

"Not until you tell me what this is all about," Joyce replied firmly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harrison handed the phone back to the Principal, certain that he could explain himself.

"Mrs. Summers, Snyder here again," the Principal's voice told her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

**The little troll,** Joyce thought, not unkindly.

She remembered meeting the Principal on parent-teacher's night when the PCP gang had tried to kill all of them. Snyder had impeded her daughter's trying to get everyone out, and she had recognized how capable Buffy had become at being a leader under pressure. She knew Snyder had a personal grudge of some kind against Buffy, and like a mother hen, Joyce wanted to defend her daughter.

"If you've done something to Buffy…" Joyce threatened, not knowing what she would do, but settling for any action she could legally take against the repulsive ogre of a man.

"Just see if your daughter is there," Snyder's half-request; half-order came over the phone.

After saying that she would, Joyce threw off the covers and went to Buffy's room. The middle aged woman felt a sinking feeling pooling in her stomach as she saw the comforter half on the floor on Buffy's bed. She went over to the sheets and touched them. Joyce sank down on the bed as she realized their coolness indicated Buffy had been gone all night.

Grabbing the phone by her daughter's bed, Joyce said into the receiver, "I'll be there in about 30 minutes." She hung up.

Joyce looked at the desk where Buffy sometimes kept her homework, and her diary which also doubled sometimes as a notepad. Ignoring the pang of guilt at invading her only daughter's privacy, Joyce rummaged through the papers to see if Buffy had written down where she had been after the Bronze was closed for the night.

When she didn't see any papers detailing her daughter's whereabouts, Joyce's eyes fell on Buffy's steamer trunk. Her daughter had kept a lot of personal things in there, her mother knew, when Joyce had broken up from Hank Summers, Buffy's father. Maybe there was something in there.

Buffy just couldn't be involved in any goings on at the school, Joyce told herself. She just had to be innocent this time.

A cursory investigation turned up nothing as the curly haired woman glanced at the perfume bottles that Hank had mailed to Buffy and the fake pearl necklace that her ex husband had presented Buffy with on her twelfth birthday.

Joyce was about to abandon her search to get dressed when something peeked out from under the top section of the trunk. Joyce took the top portion off and was perplexed as she stared at the bottles of holy water, crosses, pieces of wood resembling stakes and fresh garlic.

**Oh, God…**Joyce thought.

Her mind flew to a time in her daughter's young life when Buffy had talked to her about the undead. The then fifteen-year-old had said curiosity had motivated her to ask the question when Joyce had pressed her for an explanation. But shortly after that, there were several incidents that made Joyce wonder.

Her mother had sent Buffy to have a psychological evaluation. The doctor had pronounced that the teenager needed counseling and some medicine to get her moods in order. So, much to her daughter's chagrin, Joyce had Buffy stay at the clinic for a month during the summer.

After a few months, the doctor, Hubert Merrick by name, had said Buffy was cured; that her delusions were just a flash in the pan. Joyce had wanted to believe the doctor, but something in his tone suggested that there had been more to the story. Her suspicions were confirmed when the fire at Henley had occurred soon after, followed by the suspension.

Locating the tiny notebook entitled "Buffy's diary", Joyce flipped through its pages. Inside, she saw dozens of entries concerning bizarre things Buffy had done to individuals she thought were vampires, including the one during parent-teacher's night.

**Buffy's gone off the deep end again!** Joyce thought fearfully.

Her hands sweating, Buffy's mother called Hank Summers. When his answering machine responded, Joyce left a message to contact her right away, then she called the Sunnydale Rest Home. After some questions, she explained her suspicions.

"You did the right thing in calling us," a kindly female doctor told her. "We'll send someone over to the school as soon as possible."

Joyce wasted no time heading for the Sunnydale High. If Buffy was there, her mother would place the girl in confinement to help her daughter get the psychiatric help she needed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The object of Joyce's thoughts was still engaged in a vicious fight with Spike near the closet.

"I should've known that you'd be here with that wanker!" Spike accused, punching empty air as Buffy avoided his fist.

"It's always about Angelus, isn't it?" Spike shouted.

"What can I say, Spike? It will never be about you," Buffy rejoined, not noticing the flicker of pain, then defiance in Spike's eyes.

Angelus moved in to keep his grandchilde from attacking. The blond bastard had tried to take Dru away by reinstating his status as a pronounced Slayer Killer, and there had been talk amongst the demon hordes that Angelus had gone soft in his allowing the Chosen One to live.

This was definitely a matter of pride. The dark haired vampire would take Buffy somewhere after Spike paid for his insolence, then he'd have his extremely evil sadistic way with her.

**Wonder if I should use a hatchet on her?** Angelus mused. **Or, maybe a whip and a knife. So many possibilities!**

He forced himself to concentrate on Spike as the younger vamp delivered a savage blow to Angelus' midsection

"You're off your trolley, Poof!" Spike yelled. "She's better off DEAD!"

"Except that I'm the one who's gonna do it, Spikey!" Angelus fired back.

When Buffy got a baseball bat lying in a corner to attack the vampires, a pair of hands grabbed the Slayer, forcing her to drop her weapon.

"Drusilla!" Buffy exclaimed softly. The vampiress tried to claw the Slayer's eyes out, and the fight between all four was on.

XXXXXXXXXX

Giles and the others managed to beat the demons to Miss Beekman's classroom, but just barely as they heard noises from outside.

"They're coming closer!" Willow stated the obvious. "We have to hurry!"

Jenny had looked up the words, and as Oz held the beaker with Angel's name on it, she removed the magic words from her pocket.

"When the smoke rises, drop something of Angel's into the beaker," the computer teacher instructed.

"We don't have anything of Deadboy's," Xander said.

Willow thought a moment, then said, "Oh! I might have something!" She withdrew a small watch that Angel had given her for her seventeenth birthday before he'd become evil.

"Will this be okay?" she asked, relating the presenting of the watch to her as a present. Miss Calendar took the timepiece.

"This is perfect!" she said. She gathered the herbs and set the beaker on fire, waiting for the smoke to issue.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"She's in the gym, and several more are with her," one demon, a pale gold one, said.

"Then that is where we'll be," another demon, a self pronounced leader, declared. "The Rash are not the only beings who'll collect on such a tasty dish like the Slayer!"

He gestured for the other demons to follow him. They headed for the gym with determined looks on their faces.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy hit Drusilla with the bat in the chest, watching as she smacked into the wall. Angel punched Spike across the younger vampire's jaw.

"Diana, Goddess of love, be gone. Hear no more your siren's song!" Miss Calendar cried, putting Angel's object into the beaker.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

When the insane vampiress slowly rose, Spike hit her with all his might. Drusilla crumpled, temporarily unconscious. Buffy and Angel circled each other, looking for a perfect time to attack. The blond vampire conjured up his magic rifle once more, and as he saw his two greatest enemies alone, he knew the coast was clear. He squeezed the trigger, and fired.

As Spike felt his mind clearing, he realized the terrible thing he had done. Channeling his mind into one single thought, the younger vampire willed the rifle back to the great beyond, speaking the magic words that would keep him from using it again.

Dru awakened in time to see her Sire lying on the floor, his face in total agony, and his body oozing blood. Buffy was horrified as she realized with a sickening feeling that things had irrevocably changed.

Her eyes flew to the vampire who she had once loved, the one who was now dying his last because of her.

"Angel..." she whispered. She started to go to him, but Spike blocked her.

"Spike…" she began. His eyes jerked upward toward her. Pure, unadulterated anger and hatred were in them.

The Slayer couldn't move or think as she saw Angelus and the others. True, she wanted to rid the world of them, but not like this. Not because of a love spell gone horribly wrong.

Drusilla was sobbing over her vampiric father. "Daddy…" she said, holding him in her arms. Angelus murmured, but lost consciousness again.

Not one to pull a verbal punch, Spike said, "You'll leave bloody well alone, Slayer! Hope you're fucking happy! Got what you wanted all along, di'nt you, you daft bint! So why don't you finish it, then go home and shag yourself silly over your good fortune?"

Buffy was stunned beyond belief. Not only was her ex boyfriend expiring because of her need for vengeance, but the vampire she started having some feelings for absolutely hated her. Her mind tried to tell her that here was a plum opportunity, just as Spike had said.

Nature had given her the means to do Angelus, Spike and Drusilla in, but for the moment, her heart wasn't cooperating. She just couldn't kick a vampire when he was helpless, and when his childe and grandchilde looked so lost. Buffy knew in that instant that she had truly lost her mind.

"I'll go…" Buffy offered. **Get help,** she had thought before collecting herself. She walked toward the exit as Spike and Drusilla lifted Angelus from the floor.

**Giles will tell me what to do,** she mentally reasoned. Sealing the door to the gym and knowing the vampires wouldn't venture out into the sun, the seventeen-year-old went to find her Watcher.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

In the science lab, the last of the magic smoke dissipated. No one said anything as, outside, the sun shined its rays on the ground. Morning had arrived, and with it, the erasing of a very potent love spell.

Giles, Xander and Oz each felt the weight of what Buffy's wish had caused them to do. What if, they each thought, they had ended up really hurting each other because of her?

Jenny and Willow each had their own bones to pick; Willow, because of Oz being involved, and Jenny, because of her anger over the foolish thing Buffy had done.

"Jenny, I…" Giles started saying apologetically. Her soft hand caressed his shoulder.

"Rupert, it's okay," she responded. "It's not your fault." Her eyes bore damnation in them at the girl who had caused all of the mayhem.

Xander was equally angry. "I think we need to put her on trial," he said. When the others looked at him, the young brunette haired youth shrugged.

"What?" he asked. Sniffing, Oz picked up Buffy's scent.

"She's nearby," Oz confirmed, heading outside of the library. The group followed him, determined that they would have it out with Buffy when they found her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At the threshold of the stairs leading inside Sunnydale High, the demons blinked several times, wondering what had befallen them. When their memories surfaced, they retreated back to their individual hell holes, totally abashed that they should be in love with the Slayer.

"Retreat!" one said.

Not wanting to face embarrassment for their feelings towards the Slayer, they decided, upon the cloak of night, that they would mount a more substantial attack once their goals were clearly reiterated.

The human males who had been further away were also wondering what made them react the way they had.

"What the hell…?" one asked.

They looked at one another; then, one broke off from the crowd, followed by another. As far as all of them were concerned, it was Saturday, a day to go home and sleep off whatever insanity caused them to have the hots for a strange girl like Buffy even if she was hot.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joyce's car pulled up in front of the school. She gripped the steering wheel as the white hued truck bearing the name Sunnydale Rest Home pulled up behind her. She stifled a cry as she prepared for the grim task ahead.

Buffy walked determinedly toward Giles' inner sanctum even as she tried to keep sleep from claiming her. She wondered if all Slayers went through this process of being awake all night every night. If so, how did they concentrate on ridding the world of the forces of evil and still look great doing it?

The teenager thought about the unholy trio in the gym. She had barred them in upon leaving by sealing the main exit with holy water, but she knew that would not last long.

Fortunately, the library was nearby, and the sun was up outside, so it wasn't as though Spike, Angel or Drusilla would have time to escape through one of the windows or through a side exit leading outside. Buffy reached the library ten minutes later, but she stopped short when she saw her friends' and the adults' faces. The girl projected outward calm, but inside she was apprehensive.

"Hey," she greeted.

Giles looked at her with part revulsion, part anger, and part disappointment. Xander sat behind him so that Buffy couldn't see his face. Jenny and Willow looked even angrier than the Watcher. Oz's face was, as always, unreadable, but his arms were crossed in front of him and his legs were also crossed. That was not a good sign.

"After what's happened is that all you can think to say?" the British man asked.

Buffy shrugged, asking, "What's the bad?"

"'What's the bad'"? Willow queried, totally sounding like she would roast her best friend at any moment.

"Buffy, I can't believe that you don't get it!" The witch-in-training shouted. "I mean, you cast a spell without asking; you do something incredibly selfish not to mention stupid, and then all you can say is 'hey'? Well, I've got a 'hey' for you: hey, Buffy, I'm going to class now, and I'm not gonna save you a seat!"

Willow put on her resolute face and walked out into the hallway.

Oz got up and followed his girlfriend, looking over his shoulder and giving Buffy a "I'm not speaking to you for at least a week" look.

Buffy tried one last attempt to save face. She knew that she had screwed up big time, but she just couldn't face all three enemies and her friends ganging up on her.

"I know I did some major league bad stuff with the mojo, but now it's over, right?" she asked the other three people in the room. "So...we can go to school and I can be knowledge absorbing girl in class." The Slayer's hand reached out to touch Giles lightly.

"Oh! And, I've even got a Slayer-y problem that Giles can help with!" the blonde Chosen One exclaimed. She dropped her hand when Giles' blue eyes slid over to where her fingers were resting and regarded her as though her hands had some sort of disease on them.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then, Xander stood up slowly from where he'd hidden. "You know what?" he whispered softly, his voice laced with fury. "When we first met and I found out what you were, I thought that you were someone I could look up to, someone I could be like. But now, I can't stand to look at you at all."

Buffy could feel her eyes tearing. "Xander..." she said, reaching out toward him. The raven haired boy walked past her, not looking back.

"I have to go find Cordelia," he said, walking outside the library and taking the stairs to class. Her eyes followed him behind the round glass window in the door. When Xander was gone, Buffy turned to Giles and Miss Calendar.

There were so many things Jenny wanted to tell the girl, but she also knew that Giles would say what was on both of their minds. She settled for just leaving. If more things needed saying, the computer teacher would say them at another time. Jenny went to her locker to find a change of clothing for her upcoming morning class.

Buffy saw her Watcher, and his eyes. They never strayed from her, even when she paced. For a full two minutes, she was under his very harsh scrutiny. Of all the things the girl had faced, she couldn't take the man's cold rebuke much longer.

In the short time they had known each other Giles had been more than just her Watcher; more than just a friend. He had been the father she had never known; the male parent she could turn to when her female one just wasn't enough. It was bad enough losing one parent. It would kill Buffy to lose another, even if he wasn't her biological one.

"Say something," she told the middle aged man.

Giles continued to stare at her. Finally, the words spewed forth. "I can't believe that you would do something as foolhardy and reckless as that!" he yelled.

Buffy, for once, couldn't find a suitable reply. She just looked down at the ground and shuffled her feet like a little girl waiting for her punishment. Probably, her imagination told her, Giles and Miss Calendar would tell her mother, and then she'd be sent away to a convent to live out the rest of her days.

Or, worse yet as she felt the tingling of a worst case scenario on the barrier of her mind, she would be hauled away to a sanitarium to be given crazy people medicine once her mother found out that she was a Slayer.

Or maybe, if she was really lucky, Spike and Angelus would find her and take turns torturing her while Drusilla watched. Although, she thought with an inner smile, if it was just Spike alone, he might torture her in a different way: an altogether fun way.

**Yep, no doubt about it, I'm loony tunes certifiable!** Buffy thought.

"Giles, I..." Buffy started apologizing.

Her Watcher cut her off. "Don't," he said in an icy tone which brooked no interference.

"Okay," the Slayer said.

"Did you not pay attention to everything I taught you about the consequences of using magic to do your bidding? And, to involve demons and vampires is just unconscionable," Giles ground out, his voice scathing. "And all this for the sake of a vampire boy, one you should never have begun relations with!"

At that, Buffy was getting angry. "You make it sound like I had a choice about falling for him!" She accused. "Well, I didn't, just like I didn't have a choice when all I wanted to be like other girls! I never asked for this life, nor did I ask to be head over heels for the thing that goes bump in the night!" It was her turn to cross her arms as she snapped at Giles, "Excuse me for being human! For making a mistake!"

"You almost ruin the lives of everyone within a fifty mile radius who has testosterone in their veins and all you can do is stand there and say that you 'must have made a mistake?'" Both would be father and daughter studied each other. Then, Giles spoke softly.

"Go home, Buffy," he said tiredly. "There is not much you can do here today, and I would rather we not see each other. We shall...speak of this more when we have both calmed down. I will make up an excuse to your teachers, but go home."

Buffy started to leave, but then she thought about the vampires in the gym. "I can't go yet," she confessed. "I sealed Spike, Angel and Drusilla inside the gym and used holy water to block them from coming out."

Giles looked at her incredulously. "You mean you locked them in there, but you DIDN"T go back to dust them?" he asked. He was instantly on his feet, not waiting for the Slayer's answer.

Buffy still didn't want to tell him why she hadn't killed them. She really had no problem with staking Drusilla; after all, she had never liked Drusilla, but the insane vampiress was so heartbroken over Angel being possibly dead that the Slayer actually felt guilty. Combine that with the fact that part of her still loved the man that Angel had been.

Buffy could even feel for Spike, who was, more than likely, caught between a rock and a hard place. She didn't know why he hated Angel, but she couldn't mistake his connection to Drusilla. Somehow, someway, the blond vampire was definitely of the mix-y crowd with the raven haired vampiress. So, color Buffy conflicted.

There was also the beginning attraction she was feeling for Spike. Though he hated her and he wouldn't hesitate to kill her now that the spell was off, she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she got him alone with her and pressed the issue of her attraction on him. Maybe if she let him off the hook, they could find out together.

Of course, that still didn't solve the other problem, that being: what would she do about Angel and his childe, Drusilla? Giles was grabbing three stakes, oblivious to the raging conflict inside of his Slayer.

"Let's go there, immediately!" the Watcher commanded.

**And this time, my girl, do it right!** He thought as they both went to the gym.

Buffy tore open the door. A quick look around revealed that thankfully, no morning gym classes were being held in the place. And, at least the way Buffy saw it, she had locked them in the back room where the closet she had been with Angel was, not in the front section where there were games and visitors. The middle aged Englishman pulled out some keys and tried them in the lock to the back door.

"Be careful," he advised. "Watch out for anything." At her questioning nod, Giles said, "Mystic Skeleton keys. They can open any lock."

Buffy's look said, **gee, that would have been great coming from you thirty seconds ago before I broke open the other door!**

The Watcher found the key he had been searching for and slid it into the lock. The door flung open, and Buffy motioned him to stay behind. They crept into the room, sweeping through it at a snail's pace. But moments turned to minutes as they realized all three vampires weren't there.

Buffy located a trap door in the floor. She jerked it open and looked inside. There was a tunnel which had been used recently, her senses told her.

"Good Lord," Giles said softly as he processed what this meant. He and Buffy looked at each other, the later cursing inwardly at her stupidity in not seeing that her enemies had an escape route.

Buffy sighed, saying, "I'll find them. Just…make up something about me being sick. Tell them I have malaria, or something."

She jumped down into the tunnel. Giles handed her the stakes and some other weapons. The Slayer walked on grimly, forcing herself to train her senses on high so that she could find out which direction the vampires had taken.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joyce went to the Principal's office and waited for the boys in white to meet her there. Snyder was grinning from ear to ear. Deputy Chief Harrison looked back from one to the other. He could see the tension in Mrs. Summers' eyes, and he wanted to offer words of comfort, but he didn't dare. As for Snyder, Harrison wanted to be as far away from him as humanly possible.

The Officer in Charge didn't like the man any faster than he could throw Snyder, and he wished that he could put the Principal behind bars. But Harrison knew which side of the bread his butter came from. He knew that Principal Snyder worked in cahoots with the Mayor, and Harrison had to tread softly.

So, Harrison had to do things with a "strictly business" attitude. He hoped that the sanitarium guys would arrive and, if Buffy Summers needed their help to sort things through, Harrison would offer any assistance that he could.

Joyce clasped her hands together nervously as she waited for news about her daughter. When the medics arrived, she asked Snyder, "where's Buffy?"

Principal Snyder stopped short when he realized he didn't have a clue as to Buffy's whereabouts. "Find her," he ordered the two men in white. Deputy Chief Harrison took over then.

"May I remind you that I'm still in charge for the moment," he said softly, yet with authority. He looked at the medical men and told them to follow him.

Before leaving the office, Deputy Chief Harrison told Snyder, "make a school wide announcement that the students and teachers are to remain in their classrooms, or get to their classrooms and stay in those rooms until further notice." The Principal gleefully complied.

Together, with another order to Snyder and Mrs. Summers to wait in Snyder's office, the men left the room.

In the hall, Harrison said to his men, "until she's found, don't let anyone else inside the building. If Miss Summers has gone off the deep end, I don't want her to be a danger to any of the other students." The men went to the main entrance to form a barricade.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Spike and Drusilla threw the jackets and blankets they had nicked from the cleaning staff's lockers over their shoulders and made their way to the location where his car sat. It had been in the youngest vampire's mind to let the sun destroy his grandsire, but a well timed command from Dru saw him covering Angel with blankets all over his injured body just like both blood drinkers were covered to avoid the flames.

Spike was glad he had studied a map of the tunnels' many exits and entrances before escaping. They had saved him many times in the past, and they would save the trio now. The vampires stopped when they reached the exit for Sunset Road.

"I'll go first," Spike said, preparing himself with the blankets.

He flung open the trap door which led through the sewer drain. As he made his way upward, part of his covering came off. Spike hurriedly threw it back on, shielding his head and hands but wrapping it in such a way that there was a narrow opening where his eyes were. When he saw his DeSoto with its blackened windows, the vampire was relieved.

Spike drove it right beside the drain, checking to see that the Slayer wasn't near. When he saw no people about, the vampire opened the passenger door.

Drusilla emerged, her head covered with a baseball cap; the rest of her smothered with blankets as she stumbled with her Daddy's covered body into Spike's car. She tossed Angel's body like a sack of wheat into the back seat once she was situated, mewling at her careless treatment of her injured Sire.

When he had both family members, Spike drove at top speed out of Sunnyhell, determined that he would return when the time was right and show the Slayer-bint the finer points of death at his bare hands.

XXXXXXXXXXXX
Buffy deposited the car she had hotwired two blocks from the mansion and walked the rest of the way, ready for anything. She walked quietly inside, carefully seeing if she could sense anyone lurking. When nothing registered, the Slayer did a room-to-room sweep of the area.

Buffy saw a bed in a state of disarray. Going over to the nightstand by it, the Chosen One saw a single short strand of hair which was a dark brown color. It was a safe bet that Angel had more-than-likely been there. A further search saw Drusilla's quarters next. Although she had taken all of her dolls, the tattered remains of a dress made of muslin was what Buffy picked up.

The third room had nothing in it except the King sized bed with black satin sheets, but as Buffy grabbed them to see if there was even a hint of a trace of one of the master vampires' signatures, the Slayer felt the unmistakable vibe of Spike resonating there. She pulled the sheets to her face, running them along her cheek, imagining his long, graceful fingers caressing her jaw, drawing a map of sexual heat along her lips.

The Slayer stroked her clothed body with the sheets, picturing the platinum blond vamp doing the same before he removed the barrier of tank top and jeans. She moaned, ensnared in her fantasy world that was Spike, surrendering to his smoldering tongue as it blazed a trail across her nipples.

When she forced herself to return to reality, Buffy felt the loneliness settle all around her. The Slayer had been totally and thoroughly rejected by her friends. True, she had done something idiotic, but didn't people sometimes do dumb things, even Chosen Ones?

Righteous indignation welled up inside of her; then, anger that she should be treated so harshly. Didn't her friends and Watcher make mistakes, too? Hadn't she forgiven them in the past?

"Poor, suffering child…" she heard a hellish voice moan. "Poor, sad, suffering mortal."

Buffy turned to where the sound had issued. She saw what looked like a black pool of smoke.
Falling back on her only defense other than a weapon, Buffy uttered, "Oh, come on, now. If I were gonna go out in an outfit, I would find a better disguise than a puff of smoke!"

The "puff of smoke" blazed a crimson trail with indignation. "You mock me?" It retorted.

"I'm thinking, yeah, every chance I get if you go out like that everyday," Buffy told it.

The cloud chose to ignore that. "I am not here to harm you, or pass judgment on your killing of my kind," it said.

Buffy crossed her arms, saying, "Why are you here talking to me, then?"

"Because I represent someone who can help you," it responded, "someone who is taking your needs into account."

"Oh?" Buffy asked nonchalantly. "And, how would you know what I really need?"

"I have been in this business for over two thousand, five hundred years, little girl," it said.

"What business is that?" Buffy asked, curious.

"Revenge…" the cloud said.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Spike drove until he reached the other home he and Dru had made their own. It was a modestly sized house outside of Sunnydale that even Angel had not known about. True, the blond vampire had chased the previous owners—mere minions of the Annoying One—out after having killed the pesky child, but one took opportunities wherever and whenever they presented themselves.

The home had a great subterranean garage, and it wasn't on the road, so it was a popular haven for vamps clever enough to find it. Legend had it that the home had been built for a vampire around the turn of the century, and the creature of the night had used it many times in the past before he was staked while walking outside of it by a Slayer.

Spike had happened upon it when he had been scanning maps and images of places near the town of Sunnydale just in case the Slayer had cunny whipped him in a fair fight. Although he hadn't wanted to admit the possibility—he had his pride after having offed two Slayer-bints, after all, the vampire knew that it was only a matter of time before one of them got the drop on him.

He thought again about how Buffy had fought him in the gym and allowed a smile to tickle his lips. She was magnificent, no doubt about that. Her blood was probably better than any other Slayers he had tasted.

It was more than likely the finest AB that one could dine on, and his mind conjured up a tantalizing picture of him being high for several days after tasting it. Of course, his mind also supplied, one taste would never be enough for him. Maybe, he considered, there could be a way to drain her to the point of death, but then leave her to replenish her blood, and then drain her again.

**Drain, heal, repeat …drain, heal, repeat,…**he was thinking.

Angel moaned just then, cutting into the second Master Vampire's thoughts. Spike really wished he could off the wanker, but Dru's last command wouldn't allow that.

Drusilla had carried the still covered Angel out of the garage and into the connecting house. She had lain her injured Sire on a four poster bed in the master bedroom. The room was one that fitted Spike and Dru's tastes. It was done with bold, crimson colored walls.

The California King sized bed had black curtains, thick enough so that a vampire need not worry about any sunlight stroking the sheets and drapes. Although the room had windows, there were vertical blinds with thick, matching drapes in front of them.

Spike followed his Dark Princess as she cooed to her precious Daddy, trying to rouse him. Angel's eyes fluttered open, but then closed again.
Drusilla cut open her wrist with one of her long, blood red painted fingernails and held it up to Angel's mouth. He drank slowly, trying to ignore the pain.

"Baby…" her childe soothed, staring at the insane vampiress.

When Dru didn't respond, Spike said louder, "you need to keep up your strength. You only recovered recently. You need to hold onto the blood in your body more 'n he does, I reckon."

Drusilla pulled her wrist away from Angelus, who slumbered peacefully. She looked at Spike, half-disappointed; half-wishing that the younger vampire could get along with her supernatural father.

"You'll only kill yourself, giving him the blood he needs," Spike argued.

Dru's eyes strayed to the blond. "Daddy's nearer to his Hellish life in the after world," she pronounced. "But we can fix it."

Spike tilted his head, and decided he wouldn't like what Dru was going to propose if it was going to save Angel.

**Pompous arse!** Spike thought.

Drusilla spoke with perfect clarity, not talking about kings or queens or moons or stars like she usually did.

"Only a Slayer's and a Witch's blood will wash the metal shard away," she said. Spike's ears perked up at that.

"What's that?" he asked.

"We need the blood of a Slayer and a Witch's combined, ooohhh…" Dru was saying as she swayed back and forth.

Spike thought about Buffy just then. Assuming she couldn't have cast the love spell because of its being too powerful, the Slayer had to have had help: major magic help.

The wheels in his mind were turning. If he could somehow get the Slayer and the Witch who had made his life a living Hell there and finish them off with one stroke, then he and Dru could have Sunnydale for the picking, or wherever else they ended up.

It would cost him the healing of Angelus, but who knew? Maybe Spike could do a threefer and kill all of them. Dru was bound to get over her Sire at some point once he was destroyed, particularly if Spike tortured her until she saw his side of things. Without the competition, he could make Dru fall back under his spell, and it wouldn't take any magic.

"It's done, baby," he promised. "I'll get you your Slayer an' a Witch. Your Daddy will be all righ' again."

Drusilla came over to him and he took her hand. Together, they removed their clothes when they parted. Spike kissed her hungrily, snatching her lovely, pink tongue from inside of her mouth. When he drew blood, his true visage appeared. Dru's issued forth as, together, both Sire and Childe came together in a sex filled blood bath of shagging and sucking.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The men in white combed the high school for over an hour, but their search proved fruitless. It was more than apparent to them and the policemen joining the search that Buffy Summers had gone. Deputy Chief Harrison took the communicator out of his pocket and signaled his men.

"Let the other students inside," he said. "It's clear that she's not here."

When the men complied, one of the Sunnydale Rest Home guys said, "looks like we've got a search on our hands."

Harrison nodded, going to break the news to Joyce and Snyder. When he got back to the Principal's office and reported what had happened and what the other men would do, Joyce felt her insides grow cold.

"Search?" she repeated. "They won't harm her, will they?"

"They will take special care with your daughter," Harrison told her. "I'll make sure that they stick to the letter of the law so that no harm comes to her."

Joyce smiled, content that Deputy Chief Harrison would make certain that nothing bad happened. Buffy's mother hoped that, wherever her daughter was, she would be okay until she got help.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Giles witnessed the men in white as they walked outside in the hallways when he glanced out of the square window of the door he stood in front of. Knowing what that meant for Buffy, the Watcher asked Oz for his cell phone.

The werewolf handed it to the older man. Hurriedly, he punched in some numbers.

"Hello?" a deep English voice sounded.

"Inform Travers that I wish to speak with him," Giles responded curtly. "We have a situation."

XXXXXXXXXXX

When the American division head of the Watcher's council heard what was going on, he promised Giles that he would be in touch and he hung up. Placing a call to England, the man asked for Travers.

"Yes?" Travers voice came on the line.

"Buffy Summers may be out of the equasion, sir," the man said, explaining what was going on.

Travers considered. "Get the next Slayer on the next plane to Sunnydale, just as a precaution. Inform Giles about what is happening. And, get the van ready for a pick up."

The other man assured the head Watcher that the instructions he left would be carried out immediately.
The older man's eyes fell on a map of the world in front of him, and the town of Boston. He had hoped he wouldn't have to call in another Slayer prematurely, but sometimes, it was inevitable that these situations happened, and that the Watcher's council wasn't always able to wrest control of them.

XXXXXXXXXX

Buffy thought about what the…whatever-it-actually-was was saying to her. She knew that it was wrong to think about revenge, since she knew that things would eventually blow over. But it seemed that the dark part of her wanted, just for once, to put her friends in their place. But, what she was thinking was very, very wrong, she decided.

"Sorry, so not interested," she said.

"You need all the facts," the cloud said, materializing a picture of the men who were looking for her. As Buffy saw them, and the entity they represented, her ire rose up again. After one slip, Giles and everyone were ready to send her away to the loony bin?

Before she responded, the picture changed to an image of Spike, his body touching hers; his mouth saying such sexy, sinful things, and all about his devotion to her and her alone.

The Slayer knew she should turn away; shouldn't even consider being with the vampire any more. He was a growing addiction; a narcotic she could well do without. But as he put his staff inside her, she remembered how he had felt the one time he had put his fingers into her waiting folds.

"Just think about you, and your vampire, together…" the voice said.

This time, the Slayer found that she was listening as dream-Spike touched her image over and over again in delicious ways.

"Take me to your leader," she said at last.

BEWITCHED AND BOTHERED, CHAPTER FOURTEEN

XXXXXXXXX

"How will we find her?" One man in white asked, more to himself than to either Buffy's mother or the Principal.

Snyder sneered; he couldn't believe how dumb mental institution attendants could be! He had remembered every detail of his coming onto the Summers girl, and he would make her pay for that!

"Here's a shot in the dark, but why not alert the media about her?" he suggested.

"And, create a town wide panic by suggesting a possible mental patient is loose on the streets?" Deputy Chief Harrison asked dryly. "Brilliant!" He muttered sarcastically.

"That isn't going to smoke my daughter out if she's hiding," Joyce told both.

"She's right," one of the attendants agreed. "We have to make her think that all is okay, then we hit her with everything we've got."

"'Everything we've got'"? Buffy's mother repeated incredulously. "She's just a little girl!"

"She's hardly that, Mrs. Summers," Snyder said disdainfully. A thought occurred to him as he threatened, "if you know where your daughter is and you're not telling us…".

Joyce looked at him as though he were the worst species of insect she had ever come across.

"How dare you suggest such a thing!" Joyce shouted. "I was just as surprised as you were when I found out that Buffy wasn't home."

XXXXXXXXXXX

In the hallway, several figures in black shirts and jeans stood outside, listening to the one their sources told them was Buffy's mother and waiting for a command from their superior. Some went to the library and found the man he had been looking for. The supervisor would be glad to hear that Rupert Giles was alone and vulnerable.

"Giles," he said to the Watcher. Giles was glad that he had sent the others to class. If he was going to face censure from his fellow Watchers, best he do it alone.

"Curtis," Giles greeted formally to a fellow Watcher. Curtis' ebony skin gleamed in the harsh lights of the room as the two regarded each other.

"It seems that you've made a royal mess of things as usual, Rupert," Curtis Wentworth went on. "We've come to collect Miss Summers."

Giles felt a sinking feeling just then that Buffy would not see the light of day any time soon. True, she had done something wrong, but did she really deserve to be led away like an animal?

"What are your intentions towards her?" he asked, feeling some responsibility towards his charge.

"I think you should be more concerned about what the Fates have in store for YOU," Curtis told him. The ringing of a phone silenced any further discussion for the moment.

"Yes, sir," Curtis said into the receiver. "I understand….Thank you, sir. I shall do my best to prove worthy of your trust." He hung up the phone and regarded Giles.

"It seems that you are no longer fit to be a Watcher," Curtis said.

Giles was aghast. The Watcher's Council had been his family for so long. He didn't know what he would do with the rest of his life. Oh, he could be a librarian for a time, but that was not his real vocation. It was a secondary job, at best. He wouldn't let Curtis realize any of this, however. Giles would find something that would vindicate him in the eyes of his fellow Council members.

"Why am I being discharged?" he asked coolly. Curtis drew himself up to his full height, which was still an inch shorter than Giles'.

"You really have to ask?" he responded.

"Yes, I must," Giles replied. "I did nothing wrong. I am completely blameless."

Curtis raised an eyebrow, warming to his role as intimidator. "Really?" he asked. "From the moment the Council appointed you to look after Buffy Summers, you let her run around, leading you by the nose. This is not our way. You know our policy concerning Slayers. She should have been trained in the correct environment at our facility in England the moment she realized she was Chosen; yet, you chose to ignore our rules. Why did you do it?"

Giles shrugged, explaining, "She was brought up under different circumstances. I believe that the rules are that a Slayer is to be taken from her home environment at the exact moment of birth."

Rupert turned the tables on Curtis and the other Watchers, accusing, "So, now, my inquiry to you is: why didn't YOU spirit her away? Surely, you had some idea that if you left her in her normal life she would be conflicted at some point yet you let her be."

His blue eyes damned Curtis and the others as he continued, saying, "And, now, she is a renegade, adrift from all of us! If you are to call me the pot, dear colleague, I shall endeavor to call you all the kettles!"

Curtis inwardly swore. He realized that Giles had a point, and the older man had called Curtis' bluff. Giles was still a member of the Council, at least until the Slayer was found, and they all had to work together.

"It seems that you are correct in your estimations. However, we have been instructed that, since Miss Summers is unreliable, another Slayer is to be sent here. She should arrive with her Watcher in about five hours. Do us a favor and be their welcoming committee, will you, Rupert?" Curtis asked with a forced smile.

"As long as you do your civic duty and you don't turn this into a Slayer hunt," Giles said. "You shall gain no aid from me if you treat her like a wild animal."

Curtis was fuming inwardly, but he knew that he needed Giles' help in finding Buffy and in getting rid of the Sunnydale Rest Home entourage.

"Very well," he conceded.

The pair shook hands, and a signal from the black British Watcher who acted for Council Leader Quentin Travers had the others going into the Principal's office, where they produced their I.D.'s and said that they would take charge of the situation.

Deputy Chief Harrison and the other attendees, upon seeing the credentials, gave the Council members no argument. Apparently, the Council's papers were enough to send the police and the attendants in white back to their offices and the police station, at least temporarily. They filed out, leaving Joyce and Giles alone for a moment.

Joyce scrutinized the British librarian as she found herself doubting this whole situation. The men wearing black didn't look like any doctors she knew, and her mother's instinct told Joyce that they were there to punish Buffy, not to care for her.

"I know you from Parent-teachers night," she said finally. "You're that librarian I saw, Mr….Giles, was it?"

"Yes," Giles answered. "And, I see Buffy's resemblance to you, though she has more of her father in her, I believe."

Joyce stared at him, declaring, "I know there's more to this whole thing than meets the eye. You'll tell me the truth, or I promise you, I'll somehow make your life a living Hell!"

Giles wasn't really feeling threatened by what Joyce had said; however, he realized that if Buffy's mother somehow didn't get the truth, things could escalate even further than he would want, and Buffy could get seriously hurt or killed.

"Very well," he said at last. "I shall tell you everything, but you shall need to sit down for this." He ushered Joyce to a chair and began the long story.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The Golden One dances closer to the flame," Drusilla was saying.

Spike's promise that he would get both Buffy and the witch who had caused the debacles the vampires were in went totally unheeded.

"I told you," the blond vampire insisted, "I'll find them, bring them here, and it will all be over!"

Drusilla turned partially sad, partially angry eyes on her childe. "It's not over," she told Spike. "It will never be over between you and the Slayer, not for a long time. You go on forever."

**Forever?** Spike's mind spat out. **Dru really is barmy!**

Drusilla was dabbing her Sire's forehead with an ice cold compress. "You're drenched in her!" she accused, looking back at Spike. "You're smothered by her light! I look a' you, all I see is the SLAYER!"

Spike began to panic. Dru's visions were never wrong, and if she saw what she was saying, then he had to step up his timetable.

"What the bloody Hell do you want from me, Dru?" he cried, exasperated. "I said I would fetch her an' bring her here! Then, once we kill her an' take her blood, we'll be like we were again!"

Drusilla emphatically shook her head, saying, "No! She'll ruin everything! She'll tear down our li'l family!"

Spike's demonic visage, which he had hidden after he and Dru had finished having sex, emerged. "She won't have a soddin' chance!" he affirmed. "An' if she even tries anythin', the witch we get will even things out. I'll suck her dry while the Slayer bint watches!"

Drusilla turned hopeful eyes on her younger lover. Maybe her visions could be altered. Spike had killed two of the Slayers before; what was a third one? Even if he did hate his Grandfather, blood was definitely thicker than water, and Spike had Dru's blood coursing through his veins. It demanded that he serve justice on Buffy Summers, just as it demanded the witch's blood for damning them all with her spell in the first place.

"You are a good son," Drusilla praised. "Mummy is right proud o' you!"

She went toward Miss Edith and, nestled amongst her and the other dolls was a chest. Dru pulled out a sword and gave it to her William. Since his human moniker meant "protector", she would give him two someones to protect.

Spike clutched the weapon without hesitation. "I'll make sure her blood is coverin' it," he said, "hers, and the witch's! Need to sleep for now, but tonight…".

"Tonight, we feast on the best meal in history," she said, her eyes finding Angelus still body. "One that will make Daddy alive again!"

Spike went to the bedroom he and Dru had been in and after depositing the sword in a chair beside the bed, slept. Drusilla stayed up for a moment to look through a book of magic to see what other materials were required for the spell that would restore Angelus.

XXXXXXXXX

Buffy walked down a carpeted hallway toward a darkened room. The walls, the rugs and carpet beneath her feet all smelled like brimstone. The Slayer felt a moment of fear. Was she in Hell? They did use brimstone as incense there, right?

The cloud breathed in her fear, eating and consuming it until the Chosen One was all right again.

"Go on, child," it said. "My master awaits."

When Buffy still hesitated, wondering if this was some kind of an elaborate trap, the cloud said, "He will not harm you. In fact, he is eager to meet you!"

Buffy garnered up her courage. She had wanted to see whatever evil entity was the cloud's employer, and she would not be afraid. Fear and she were very unmix-y things. She reached out toward the door handle and found herself inside a luxurious room. It had dark walls which seemed to extend out into infinity, and the ground was moist, as though she was in a mud pit, but the furniture seemed solid, and the figures in robes and hoods seemed real enough.

"Are you the ones in charge?" she ventured. The cloud laughed.

"They are mere body, or rather spirit guards," the mist told her. "My master approaches."

Buffy saw another robed figure, taller and more imposing than the rest. He walked until he reached the spot where she stood and removed his hood. The Slayer saw that he was a demon, with dual horns on either side of a round face with a beard and small red markings on it. His eyes glowed, but she could tell that he was not a vampire, since his signature was different.

Reaching out a clawed hand with long, white fingernails, the head demon invited, "come, Slayer. Sit, and have some refreshment."

Buffy eyed the meal in front of her and said, "no, thanks, I'm good."

"You do not trust me?" the master demon chided softly. "It is not in my interest to harm you by poisoning the food. Quite the reverse, actually."

Buffy decided that, even if she didn't eat anything, she could at least be cordial.

"Okay," she finally said, sinking down into a chair.

A servant with two horns on its head and similar markings to that of the head demon walked up and offered Buffy a tray with all kinds of slimy creatures on it. The Slayer waved him off. The servant offered the tray to the master demon, who took a creature in his hands and ate it whole. Despite a desire to puke, a part of Buffy was also fascinated.

"You impressed me on the surface," the demon said when he had finished his snack and they were alone. "I don't normally make too many trips to the human realm. Not too many of you mortals prove your self worth, but you, you definitely made a favorable impression."

"Will you tell me who you are, and what this is all about?" she asked, impatient. The demon-in-charge sighed.

"Ah, youth, always so rush, rush, rush these days," he said. "I remember when I was but a child of seventeen. I, too, wanted to get on with business until the centuries taught me patience. I had another like you: a human girl in the 1800's who was…shall we say, enchanted by me?"

"Get to the point!" Buffy snapped. The demon's eyes glazed over at her defiance.

"My mist, Chill, has spoken of you accurately!" He praised. "You have a fire in you that defies the ages; a demonic presence that fuels you which demands to be brought forth."

He stood and walked over to her, caressing her golden hair with his fingers. "Tell me, child, how you feel about your friends and your family's rejection of you," he said.

Buffy considered, then said, "Well, I know I did something wrong, and I…". The demon suddenly appeared in front of her, extremely angry.

"Don't toy with me, girl!" he said. "Tell me how you really feel!"

But, there was no need. The demon felt Buffy's anger that she had tried to quell, and like a human stoking a fire, he allowed the embers to become a blaze, until the Slayer felt the most abject pleasure. She moaned as though Spike was caressing her again.

"What you feel is your demon's need for vengeance," the head demon told her.

"I don't have a demon," Buffy said after she had stopped groaning.

"Yes," the other said, "you do. You just don't feel it because, though it fuels your Slayer powers, it hasn't taken up residence inside of you." The demon touched her again.

"I can arrange for the sensations you feel to be permanent," he offered. "You wish to have a normal life; to not be a Slayer anymore. But that cannot be achieved because you are bound by mystic energy to be a Chosen One forever." His eyes found hers. Buffy felt the lilting of his voice. She stared, transfixed.

"Unless, of course, you become someone else; a being who is not bound by said magical contract," he said.

Buffy thought about that. She had a feeling that this offer had some strings, but she wanted so badly to be normal. Of course, if she had a demon roaming around inside, she wouldn't be. But, then, if she couldn't be an ordinary teenager, how much more fitting would it be for her to be able to administer justice to vampires her way? And, if she had one inside of her, she could realize her growing attraction to Spike. The Slayer's life had brought her nothing but misery and heartache. Perhaps it was time for a change.

"What would I have to do?" she asked, the echoes that this was a way bad idea becoming distant and then finally dying. "And would I have Spike?"

"Of course," the head demon told her. "In fact, I need a recruiter for other humans with potential. That way, you would have an elevated position in my echelon and of course, demons would look up to you in an entirely favorable way. You would by matter of policy, have to renounce ties with the human communities in matters of vengeance, but you would be able to deal out justice to those you chose to represent with one, swift stroke."

He signaled, and another servant in a boring looking tweed suit with gray skin stepped forward.

He handed a thick, manila envelope to the superior demon and withdrew. "It's all in the contract, which you will retain inside of your mind so that you can make an educated decision."

Buffy opened the envelope and touched the papers. As she did, she felt terms and conditions floating inside of her mind. "What about Angel?" she asked after a moment.

The demon chuckled. "I figured you would ask about him," he said. "Because I like you, I will do for you what I have done for no other mortal. I will allow you twenty-four hours to administer justice the way you see fit; then, you will either summon me, or you will see me no more. It makes no difference to me which path you choose, though I hope you will be adult about this, and pick the sensible route."

Buffy reached inside and saw a golden necklace with a darkish green stone in the center. Despite the low light, it glowed in the room brightly.

The Slayer started to decide. "What name should I use if I decide to call you?" she inquired. He gestured and she found herself back on the road just East of Sunnydale.

"D'Hoffran," his voice said.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

XXXXXXXXXXX

When Giles finished telling Joyce about Buffy, he took in a deep breath. He had spent a good deal of the afternoon acquainting the middle aged woman with a cursory history of Slayers and Vampires and why they opposed each other, but there was still so much more ground to cover. Buffy's mother looked stunned. The Watcher could understand her amazement, but what he couldn't comprehend were the next words issuing from her mouth.

"I don't know what game you're trying to pull, Mr. Giles, but if you truly believe in vampires and such and that my daughter is a killer of anything, then you're just as disturbed as she is!" Joyce yelled.

Giles hastened to assure her. "Believe me, Mrs. Summers, this is not an elaborate hoax. It is not a lie fabricated by me," he said. "Your daughter truly is a Chosen One."

Joyce sank down into a chair, feeling incredibly guilty. She'd thought that her daughter was the one who needed help, but it was now alarmingly clear to her that Rupert Giles, seemingly mild-mannered British librarian, was the one who was nuts.

Apparently, somehow, he had escaped the loony bin and had convinced Buffy that she was a Slayer! Joyce wondered how many others Giles had duped with his lies. Were the men wearing black working with him? How many others just like him were under her nose at Sunnydale High?

Buffy's mother willed herself to look normal, banking down fear and anger to keep her daughter safe. She wondered if Rupert Giles corrupted an innocent like Buffy through drugs or alcohol so that she thought she was a Slayer of vampires and demons.

Perhaps Joyce could, at some future point, involve Officer Harrison again. Maybe he could do something not only with the dangerous librarian but with the men wearing black.

Forcing herself to remain calm, Joyce asked, "So, that take-charge display I witnessed on Parent-teacher's night was actually Buffy being a Slayer?" Giles nodded.

"I am sorry we all concealed the true nature of your daughter's calling," the Watcher said, "but if we had revealed it, it might put you in great danger from evil forces."

**Oh, you should get an Oscar for your award winning performance, Mr. Crazy Giles!** Joyce thought angrily, determined that, whatever the cost, she would drag Buffy away from him and from Sunnydale High School as soon as she located her daughter.

"So," Joyce chose her words carefully, "Are you a Slayer, too?"

Giles said, "No, I am her Watcher."

"And, what does a Watcher do?" She wanted to know.

Giles sighed. He had spent most of the day with Joyce, but he knew that all Hell would break loose when Buffy found Angelus, Drusilla and Spike. He needed to help her in any way that he could, and one of his greatest hopes possibly lay in Buffy's mother trusting him.

"The Watcher prepares the Slayer for battle," he answered, almost like he was reciting some dogma. "He acquaints her with the forces she will fight and provides her with the weapons she will need to defeat the forces of evil."

His speech sounded so believable that Joyce had to admit: she had a tough time thinking that Giles wasn't playing with a full deck. She forced herself to believe that for the time being, mentally saying, **Mr. Giles is a loon...Mr. Giles is a nut...**over and over.

"Do you have any proof that vampires and demons exist?" Joyce asked.

Giles considered before responding. He admitted, "I could show you images; however, I get the feeling that you won't believe me." Before Joyce could reply, the Watcher said, his tone judgmental, "No, of course you don't."

Giles had a feeling that Joyce was just trying to humor him. The Watcher also knew that time was running out. His serious blue eyes bore into Joyce's, willing her to look at him and take him at face value.

"Look, Joyce!" He exclaimed. "Suffice it to say that there are such forces which are heading toward this school, and possibly wherever Buffy is hiding. We must intervene and reach her before they do!"

Joyce couldn't take any more of this! She argued, "If there are monsters out there like that, then perhaps our best option is to get away from here until we can...". She paused, hoping her next words would calm the mentally unbalanced man. "...get some stakes or other weapons or something," she finished.

Giles reached for the phone on the wall and dialed Xander's cell. He hated to involve Buffy's friends but until she was found and the other Slayer arrived, the Watcher knew he had little choice.

On the third ring, he heard Xander's voice. "Hello?" the brown haired boy asked.

"Xander," Giles instructed, "I need you, Willow and the others to meet me at the Bronze so that we can discuss how best to proceed while Buffy's absent. That will be the most inconspicuous."

"Buffy's gone?" Xander's voice repeated. "Was it a demon? Did she find a recovered Deadboy and they're partying somewhere?"

There was a moment's pause, then Giles said, "I shall pretend that I did not hear that remark, Alexander. I'll go to the magic shop in town and grab some books. Just meet me at the Bronze tonight."

"Got it," the boy promised. "We'll be there and ready for action, G Man." Before Giles could reprimand the boy for calling him "G Man", Xander hung up his phone.

As Giles hung up the library's phone, Joyce forced down any fear. Her success lay with him believing that she was starting to trust him. She didn't know that his schemes had gone so far! Imagine him dragging Willow, Xander, and Lord-knew-who-else into his insane paranoia! It was all up to her now! She had to go with him to his place, get whatever evidence she could, and go to the authorities.

Buffy's mother's eyes fell to the desk in the office they were in. She desperately looked for any kind of weapon she could grab to fight Giles, if need be. Spying a letter opener on the table, she quietly reached for it, then she slipped it into her purse.

Her outer countenance normal (or so she hoped), she asked, "Should we take my car?"

"No, we'll take mine," he said, ushering her toward the high school exit. Before he could leave, Curtis and his men blocked Giles' departure.

"Going somewhere, Rupert?" the black Englishman asked snidely.

"Just going to drive Mrs. Summers home," Giles fibbed. He wasn't going to tell his fellow Watcher about making battle plans.

Curtis's eyes fell on Joyce, who remained silent. He seemed to be scrutinizing her for any signs of treachery. After several moments, he curtly nodded.

"You may go," Curtis informed them. Giles steered Joyce through the main door. He started to follow close behind her, but Curtis' voice stopped the older Watcher.

"One moment, Rupert," Curtis said. Giles motioned to Joyce to wait on the steps for a moment. When he saw that she wouldn't run off, he turned back to look at Curtis.

"Yes?" Giles asked.

"I sincerely hope that your business is the transportation of Miss Summers' mother to her home," Curtis punctuated his every word, "because if your intention is to warn the errant Slayer, I am advising you: don't. You are on thin ice as it is."

Giles looked at Curtis coldly.

"I realize that," Giles responded. "I don't know where Buffy is, so you needn't think that I would contact her."

"Glad to hear it, Rupert," Curtis said. "Things will progress so much better if you and your little, ahem, group stay out of our way until Miss Summers is found and dealt with. You are dismissed."

When he was alone, Curtis took out his cell phone and punched in a long sequence of numbers. Hearing Travers voice, Curtis frowned while he prepared to deliver his report.

"Mr. Travers, Rupert Giles has gone to find Miss Summers, I am sure of it," he said into the phone. At Travers' urgent tone, Curtis relayed what had occurred.

Travers' voice instructed, "Follow them; then, report everything that has happened directly to me. Code red."

Curtis smiled evilly, saying, "Yes, sir."

He hung up his cell phone, realizing that his time was nigh. Ripper Rupert Giles, the darling of the Council, was about to slip up so royally that Travers would confine him and his followers at the headquarters in London.

Curtis had waited a long time to be the chief Watcher, second only to Quentin Travers in the Watcher's Council. Now, his years of suffering would come to an end. Once he unseated Rupert, Curtis would be promoted; then, he would eventually get rid of the old fool, Travers. Once that was done, he would deal with the Slayers and any other irritants his way.

The next Slayer and her Watcher had come highly recommended. He had taken steps so that they would be next in line to take over Sunnydale. It wasn't as though things could be left to an inexperienced chit like Miss Buffy Summers.

It was time for rougher measures; it was time to show all of the vampires, demons and other evil miscreants that the Council meant business. The Council was so routed in tradition and morals that vampires and other demons were seizing the high ground more and more.

**No more Mr. Nice Bloke,** he thought.

Curtis would show them who truly was boss. If those who were incarcerated learned respect, he would let them live, he decided. He might even let them back into the game.

With those reassuring thoughts, Curtis ordered his lieutenant Mr. Tennant, "Richard."

The sandy haired attendant looked up from his laptop. "Yes, sir?" he said in his usual Scottish brogue.

"Fetch me the brown case in the back of my car," Curtis commanded.

Tennant did so.

"What about the principal, sir?" Tennant asked when he returned. Curtis had to admit, he'd forgotten that little troll.

"Leave him to me," he said, his eyes falling on his case. "I'll take that." Tennant handed the case to Curtis. The third-Watcher-in-command told the Scottish man to follow Giles. Tennant respectfully left and went to follow Curtis' instructions.

Sinking into a chair and tilting it back, the ebony skinned Watcher puffed on his cigar, his hands resting behind the back of his head.

**They won't get far,** he thought, smiling.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As they walked around a corner, Giles told Joyce, "Hubert Merrick was to be her Watcher. When he died, I took the position."

They reached the Watcher's car in the parking lot by the back entrance of the school. A cursory check revealed no bugs or other instruments that could be used to listen to the pair's conversation. Giles started the engine, his eyes looking for any of his fellow Watchers, while the middle aged woman frowned.

"Doctor Merrick?" Joyce queried. At Giles' insistent nod, Buffy's mother said, "But…how could he be a Watcher?"

"It was his job to bring her into the fold," the Englishman said. "He was to be her instructor. He was killed before that could become a reality. If we could solicit the next Slayer's aid and that of her Watcher, we may be able to buy some time until we can take Buffy somewhere safe. I shall make some inquiries as to the other Slayer's exact whereabouts."

Joyce tried to relax but found it extremely hard. She hoped that Buffy wouldn't do anything foolish until her mother could get to her. Maybe if Buffy wasn't too far gone into this Slayer nonsense, she could receive medicine like she had before and be cured.

When Buffy was located, whatever it took, Joyce would fight for her and make sure Buffy never saw Rupert Giles or the other students at Sunnydale High again!

**Hold on, Buffy...**her mother mentally said, **things will get better in time.** Giles took to the road, driving toward the magic shop. Joyce reached inside her purse, her hand grabbing the letter opener. She prayed that she wouldn't have to use it.

Richard waited until Giles was in his car; then, he activated his specially designed GPS. He placed a call to Curtis, turning on the speaker in his car.

When he heard his superior's voice, Richard reported, "I'm preparing to tail Mr. Giles, sir. I'm using the GPS, just like we learned."

"Excellent," Curtis' voice came in loud and clear. "Now we'll see if the investment we made for that mystic technology will pay off."

"I'd better sign off, sir," Richard said. "I don't want my transmission to be detected."

"Of course," Curtis' voice told his junior fellow Watcher. "Let me know the moment you arrive at his location so that we may apprehend them."

"Yes, sir," Richard said. He terminated the call, thinking, **now you'll be in for it, Giles!**

XXXXXXXXXXX

Spike felt himself coming in his sleep while he imagined Dru sucking and cooing in his ear; then, she raised herself from him. Spike looked up, ready to seize his minx of a Sire, but Drusilla was not the one biting him.

A golden haired temptress, looking weak and innocent yet swift and strong was there, her blonde tresses spilling all over his chest, her eyes glowing yellow as she placed her demon's mark on his waiting neck.

"Buffy...," was all the vampire cried.

He tried to flip her so that she was under him, but the Slayer-turned-glorious-vampire would have none of it. She growled low in his ear, but didn't let Spike touch her. Pinning his arms by his sides, Buffy rained kisses all over his body, pausing only when she got below his waist to the prize she wanted.

When Buffy's tongue lapped up all of the juices he had to offer, Spike moaned her name over and over. The Slayer whispered into his ear that she was his, and that he was better than all other men. The vampire shook that dangerous thought away.

The attraction he felt was blinding, just like Dru had told him. He was burning in the Slayer's sunlight, and though he hated to admit it, he wanted the flame she'd ignited to be even hotter as Buffy ignited his craving for her.

"Now," he promised, "we'll do things my way." The blond vampire thought about that song Sid Vicious had sung and hummed a few bars.

First things first, he thought, heading toward Angelus's bed.

Spike studied Angelus' still form. He wanted to off Peaches so bad, but Dru's command that the younger vampire not harm his grandsire still held firm.

Aloud, he said softly, "'f I had my way, you ponce, I would kill you here an' now and put me and Dru out of our misery. But she's not gonna let me do it. She still fancies you."

He reached out to squeeze his Grandsire's neck despite his inability to do any real damage.

There was a slight twitch, then Angel smiled before his eyes popped open.

"Well, well, if it isn't Billy Boy, come to pay ol' Gramps a call!" Angelus taunted softly. "To what do I owe this unpleasant interlude?"

Spike's eyes blazed with hatred. The look in the older vampire's eyes told him that Angelus knew exactly what was bothering Spike.

Angelus laughed, saying, "Stop wasting your un-breath. As long as Drusilla walks, it'll never be over, and she'll always want me before you."

"Shut your gob!" Spike cried, squeezing a little harder.

Unfazed, the elder male vampire jeered, "You just showed her sex; I created her. Who do you think she would prefer, whelp?"

The use of the name the younger vampire used for Xander Harris inflamed Spike's rage. How dare Angelus compare a vampire of Spike's stature to a pup like the human wanker! In an instant, Spike lowered his hand to Angel's chest. Angelus tried to move, but he still couldn't with the magic bullet that was inside of him.

"Go ahead," Angel murmured. "Rip out my heart. End both our pains. Do to me what the Slayer never could."

**The Slayer,** Spike thought suddenly. Color him a Nancy boy for forgetting what really counted.

He had to go through the tunnels and find her. That was what mattered. Angelus was doing what he always did, even when he was defeated: psyching Spike up so that the older vampire could break him, then kill his grandchilde or drive him insane with mind games.

But the platinum vampire was wise to his grandsire's plan. He knew that Angelus was a pup now, and although this would be a plum opportunity, Spike also knew that Angel wasn't worth his time or effort.

"You aren't worth two pence, you sack o' shite," Spike whispered, feeling vindicated when Angelus glared at him. The younger vampire walked away.

Gathering his leather duster while he sang "My Way", the platinum vampire left the house and headed for Sunnydale.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The Bronze was teeming with activity that night. Revelers of every type were dancing and picking up dates. One end of the club, however, featured the date less teens. Most nursed their drinks, their lives spent by consuming cokes and numbing themselves to the pain of not having friends to talk to.

An oddity was among them: three teens who actually hung out with each other and were the best of friends. Oblivious to the envious stares of the lonely geeky adolescents, Willow, Oz and Xander downed their drinks, their moods somber and reflective.

"It's been several hours since Buffy vacated," Xander said the obvious.

"Yeah," Oz said, preparing to go to the bar to order three more rounds of coca colas. "You guys want cherry this time?"

"Whatever," Willow said. "You'd think she might have called or something."

"Well," the werewolf told his girlfriend, "we were way harsh. I wonder if they have Slayers in Cleveland?" Xander gave Oz a look.

"Come on," he said, "we've treated each other like crap before and we've always come back for more."

"We're getting into a rut there," Willow said, finishing her coke. "I should have sat next to her in class!" The attractive red headed student frowned a moment later realizing something.

"But, come to think of it, I couldn't 'cause she didn't show in class today…" Willow said.

She felt her stomach doing cartwheels as it churned up a double dose of guilt. She wondered if her best friend would ever come back. It was difficult, but the titian haired girl focused on their meeting with Giles. He would know where Buffy was so that they could kiss and make up with her.

Looking at Xander, she, "So, when is Giles coming?"

"He's getting the books together for us to look at," the dark haired boy said. "That's probably gonna take a couple hours."

Oz nodded his agreement, then the werewolf went to get more sodas. He walked past some huge, pale skinned individuals who hung about separately from the other dancing teens. One pale skinned boy was dancing with Cordelia.

"So, you broke up with that loser, Xander Harris?" He asked, looking at the girl with his intense, green eyes. Cordelia pulled him closer to her and smiled.

"Let's not talk about yesterday's news," she said. "How about you? You new here?"

"No," Pale Guy said. "I just haven't been here awhile. Been away."

"Ooohhh," Cordy said. "Like, studying abroad?"

"You might say that," Pale Guy said. He leaned in closer to her and asked in a seductive voice, "The food here's so eww. You wanna get something else? I know I'm starving."

"Sure," Cordy said. "But none of that greasy stuff they have in town."

The pair left the Bronze, even as Oz returned to the table he shared with Xander and Willow. It was then that he saw several paler than usual guys leaving. What no one saw were two figures who followed the vampires out the exit.

The carrot topped lycanthrope placed the cokes down in front of his friends and said, "Guys…trouble."

Xander and Willow saw where Oz was looking and spotted the pale boys. Grabbing his knapsack, Xander went with the others out the back into the alley.

Cordelia walked arm-in-arm with the boy in front of the dumpsters by the Bronze. "So, what did you say your name was?" She asked.

"I didn't, did I?" The boy responded with his question. "Name's Mark, Mark Whilshire."

"I know them!" Cordy was exclaiming. "Don't they deal in furs?"

"My parents did, yeah," Mark answered. "Too bad they recently died."

"I'm sorry," Cordelia told him. "It's such a loss to the fur buying people, like my mother. What happened?"

"An…accident while we were eating dinner," Mark said. Cordelia kept walking arm-in-arm with Mark. She failed to see his friends shifting into game face behind her.

"I hope my parents never die like that," she said. Behind him, his friends snickered to a private joke.

"What's so funny?" Cordelia wondered, confused. She stopped walking, aware that something incredibly bad was going on.

"Tell her, man," one friend prompted. Mark gave Cordelia a hungry look as the ridges formed and his teeth extended into fangs.

"Maybe I should rephrase and say...I had them FOR dinner," he said, shifting into his game face.

Cordelia screamed, trying to get away. The vampires backed her up against a wall.

"Uh, look!" she shouted. "You don't want to do this! I have friends with me: powerful friends who stake vampires!"

Flexing his black fingernails, Mark came closer. Cordy screamed once more.

"Hey, ugly!" She suddenly heard a male voice call.

Cordelia was so glad that Xander had arrived. The dark haired male kicked the vampire to the ground. When the vamp got up again, something streaked out and stabbed him in his chest. His dust settled all over the young man.

Willow and Oz battled another vampire; the latter trying to hold him as best he could while Willow got a stake. She was about to plunge it in the revenant's unbeating heart when an arm streaked out, flinging the vampire off of the redhead.

Cordelia, meanwhile, recovered in time to see two vampires flying into the air and landing with a vicious thud on the ground. She was about to run away again when she saw that the man who'd saved her was not Xander. She, Willow and Oz had also seen that a woman had joined the fray.

The vampires decided to act as one. They got up, intending to rush the teenagers.

The male newcomer retaliated by stabbing one; the woman took the other two out in quick succession. When all of the vampires had been dispatched, the woman's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Now that's really kickin' it!" She yelled. "'Knew I'd like this town!"

There was censure in the new male's eyes. "Really," he chided with his crisp British upper crust accent, "You shouldn't be so excited over doing your job."

"Blow it out your butt, Wes," the woman told him. Xander came out of the Bronze suddenly. He saw Willow and Oz with Cordy and the pair of girls looked surprised.

It was then that Cordy got a good look at her rescuer. The man looked as though staking vampires was no big deal to him. His face would have been innocent looking if not for the slight scar on its right side, the side where his eye was covered with a patch.

Despite this however, the man had an arresting quality; something which, when one first looked at him, made one want to know more. His remaining eye, which was a deep royal blue, scanned everything, not missing any details. Though he was on the thin side, his olive colored t shirt nevertheless revealed some muscles.

Xander saw that he was not alone. At his side was a shorter woman with dark hair. Her round face was pretty in a party animal sort of way, and despite her tough looking grimace, she also gave the appearance of having had a lot of sexcapades with the man by her side most likely from the familiar way she stood with him.

The girl looked hardened, as if she had firsthand experience about how unfair life could be. She had the "piss off" attitude etched in her dark brown eyes. She stood ready, as though she was waiting for a chance to attack anyone and anything that was bold enough to cross her. She was petite, with a dark tank top behind a battered leather jacket.

"So, this is Hellmouth town," she said, looking around.

Xander took one look at her "come fuck me" face and thought, **Woah!**

"Who are you?" Willow asked. The girl gestured between her and her British companion.

"Faith, Wesley...Wesley, Faith," the girl said. She boldly walked over to Xander, her eyes saying that she liked what she saw.

"Who're you guys?" Faith wanted to know.

Willow introduced everyone. "So, are you, like, a Slayer?" She asked Faith.

Cordelia murmured, "Not another one." No one had heard her.

Wesley peered at the group, asking, "How do you all know about the Slayers?"

"We travel with Buffy," Willow responded.

This time, Cordy could be heard saying, "No, actually, I don't travel with her or those guys."

Xander inquired of Wesley, "What's the deal with you two?"

The blue eyed man gave all of them an intense stare and said, "I am Wesley Wyndham Price, and I'm looking for Rupert Giles. Since you are all familiar with vampires and Slayers, perhaps you could tell me where I and my Slayer may find him."

Xander told them, "I would, but you're a little late. This town already has a Slayer and a Watcher."

Faith took up the slack then, saying, "Yeah, well, B and Rupes are pretty much history in this town." She looked over at her boyfriend, saying, "tell 'em, Wes."

Wesley drew himself up as though lecturing disobedient pupils and said, "As of today, we are the new authorities in Sunnydale. Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles no longer on active duty."

"WHAT?!" Willow shrieked, unable to believe that Buffy had been demoted, or fired. That was so not good. She wished with all her heart that her friend could come back and straighten all of that out.

On a rooftop, Spike had examined the fight, researching Faith's fighting style. He had wanted so badly to face off with her, but logic intruded, telling him to wait for the ideal opportunity to destroy her. Besides, if Buffy was truly gone, perhaps the dark haired Slayer's blood would do.

He had hoped for Goldilocks to return. Spike didn't think that anything would chase her off. But if Buffy had bought it or something, that was life. In any case, he told himself, Dru would be happy when he added Slayer Number Three to his collection.

The vampire pulled back, sitting on the roof as he lit a cigarette and inhaled. He'd find a way to get Faith alone and vulnerable, and then…all Hell would break loose.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy was deposited at the Sunnydale boundary that evening. She looked at the town she now called home and considered the decision she had made. Buffy hoped that she had made the right choice.

**Time 'll tell,** she thought as she opened a manhole cover and let herself back into the sewers so that no one could detect her. When she hit the water, Buffy smiled confidently and headed toward her house.

Previously: The vampire pulled back, sitting on the roof as he lit a cigarette and inhaled. He'd find a way to get Faith alone and vulnerable, and then…all Hell would break loose.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy was deposited at the Sunnydale boundary that evening. She looked at the town she now called home and considered the decision she had made. Buffy hoped that she had made the right choice.

**Time 'll tell,** she thought as she opened a manhole cover and let herself back into the sewers so that no one could detect her. When she hit the water, Buffy smiled confidently and headed toward her house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rack prepared for his next customer, making sure his store of magic dust was laced with the proper intoxicant. He had to hand it to himself: D’Ambrosia was a sweet deal, what with all of the customers he had.

He thought about the house he would purchase near the dimensional gateway in the first level of Hell and sat back, blowing smoke rings out of his ears. He had attracted so many witches and warlocks that he had to turn some away recently, like that loser Michael Madison.

Rack still saw his tear stained face as he pleaded for another shot; another dose of magic, this one more satisfying than the first.

“C’mon, Rack!” Michael had said less than one week ago. “I need some for me, for my little girl. I promise I’ll pay you back.”

The drug dealing demon had looked at him without pity or compassion and had said in a biting tone, “Aww, Mikey. You’re breaking my heart.” Rack handed him something that resembled a hooka.

“This is the purest form of D’Ambrosia that is around,” Rack confided. “It’s also got the highest buzz you could ever get from one dose. This’ll put you into magic heaven. You only need a little.”

Michael’s eyes glazed over as he snatched the pipe from Rack’s outstretched hand. “I promise, you won’t regret this,” Mike said.

Rack’s eyes held pure evil in them. Michael was too enraptured by the pipe to see his expression.

“I know I won’t,” the half demon mystic drug dealer said softly. Michael left with his ill gotten gold.

Rack counted the portions of souls he’d collected—just a little to escape detection—and smiled. Soon, he would collect all of them, each and every one, for his superiors. That was bound to earn him a promotion from a seventh level demon to the first level.

The doorbell rang suddenly. Rack checked his timepiece and he frowned. It was too early for his next customer. Curious, the part-demon opened the door.

“You…” he said, astonished.

And then he fell, as the one who’d blindsided him walked inside his house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Giles pulled up in front of his flat with Joyce, who was looking way too calm as though she were trying to hide her nervousness. He got out of his car, knowing time was of the essence for finding the other Slayer if she was there.

“Would you like a spot of tea or perhaps something stronger?” He offered. Joyce declined, saying that she was all right.

**Besides,** she thought, **I’m not going to give you a chance to poison me or something.**

The Watcher went into his kitchen and put a kettle on for himself. While he did so, outside in his mini Coop, Richard Tennant blew on his fingers as he felt a chill rising.

He called Curtis and reported his findings. Hearing his superior Watcher’s voice over the car phone, Tennant shook his head, saying, “No, sir. He hasna moved. There’s also no sign of the Slayer or her friends.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

Still at the school, Curtis instructed, “Very well. Continue to monitor Mr. Giles, then if he tries anything or you see the Summers girl, report to me immediately!”
“It will be done,” Tennant assured Curtis, hanging up the phone.

XXXXXXXXXXX

In another part of the school in the Principal’s office, a Watcher brooded, wondering what to do with the Snyder chap. He was becoming quite tiresome, with his desire to want to stay.

“Just what are you planning to do now that the police are gone?” Roy Snyder asked, his eyes peering with suspicion. Something, he told himself, was off with these men wearing black. They didn’t look like any doctors HE knew.

He would be reprimanded almightily by the school board, to say the least, if they weren’t who they said they were. Snyder would have loved to be rid of the plague that was Buffy Summers and have a nice, normal school (at least, a slightly more normal school), but he also wanted not to damage his reputation in Sunnydale in the bargain.

One of the Watchers addressed Snyder, telling him, “We’ll be taking Miss Summers off your hands when she arrives. She is a dangerous young lady and she must be contained.”

Snyder sneered, “And, what about her mother and Mr. Giles? This could go very bad for the school if word of Miss Summers’ escape and her unbalanced nature got out. Someone might tip off the press, and then, where would we be? You may have convinced the police that you have everything under control, but you still haven’t convinced ME.”

“We thought you would accept proof of our authority and give Miss Summers over to us. Believe me, Mr. Snyder, it’s the best way,” the Watcher told the Principal.

“Somehow, I suddenly don’t believe you,” Snyder said, crossing his arms.

“What would it take to convince you?” the man asked. “Look at it this way…”.

Snyder countered with an, “I’m listening.”

The Watcher continued, his voice becoming more seductive: “think of it, Mr. Snyder. You rid the school of this…irritant, and the students can go back to their boring, plebian lives, courtesy of your assistance. Now, I think that, plus…shall we say…” he withdrew a hundred US dollars “…a small reward for locating a dangerous presence like Miss Summers is proof enough of our veracity?”

Snyder smiled avariciously. It wasn’t as though he made tons of dollars. And, these fellows looked innocuous enough. The Principal motioned to the man, showing the camera with a tilt of his head.

The man nodded, casually putting the money into a wallet. Out of sight of the camera, the Watcher pretended to pick up the wallet and give it back to Snyder, who accepted it, with a, “oh, didn’t see that fall out of my pocket.” He eyed the wallet, looking at the Watcher with a smug expression.

“What do you want me to do?” the Principal asked eagerly.

The Watcher instructed, “Go home. You’ve done enough, letting us have free reign here until we retrieve the Summers girl. We’ll contact you if we require anything further.”

Principal Snyder grinned and took off, walking outside.

It was only as he pulled up in front of his house that he realized that he hadn’t actually taken the bribe from the gentleman.

**Oh, well,** he consoled himself, there are other rewards to be had, like expulsion for the Summers girl, and possibly juvenile hall.**

His grin a mile wide, Snyder entered his house triumphantly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cordelia pulled up in front of Giles’ home with Willow, Wesley, Oz, Xander, and Faith squeezed inside of her tiny car.

“Maybe we should’ve taken the van,” Willow suggested.
“Now, you tell us,” Xander complained. Resting atop everyone’s lap was Oz, since the whole back seat was taken.

“I’ve been inside mini coops bigger than this, C,” Faith griped from the back of the sporty, red car. She pressed closer to Xander, earning a inner snarl from Cordelia as she felt jealousy grip her.

“Now, Faith, this was necessary,” Wesley cautioned, turning slightly to regard her, “to avoid detection of our vehicle. It is more advantageous to surprise our foes than to announce our presence.”

“You don’t have dibs on sayin’ anything, Wes,” Faith returned. “You got the front seat. Besides, it’s not like we got anything like the mystery machine or nothing special on it.”

Cordelia couldn’t take any more bickering or trouncing of her car, and she snapped, “It’s my fault I drove the only backup car in the area? Besides, why don’t you guys…I dunno, get the equivalent of a Slayer mobile or something for these situations?”

“That’s what paid guys like Giles are for,” Xander quipped.

“Um, guys,” Willow asked, raising her hand. “That’s not really the issue, here. How are we gonna tell Giles, and Buffy if we find her, the news about them being…you know…?”

Oz stroked Willow’s hand to provide moral support but didn’t say anything.

Xander said, “We don’t.” His dark eyes fell on Faith as he responded, “We let the odd couple here tell them.”

Wesley turned back to the front. Presently, Cordelia pulled up in front of Giles’ place. “Believe me, I share your sentiment, but as harsh as it may seem, we’re just following orders,” he said, his voice logical and detached.

After Oz climbed out, Faith emerged, commenting as she viewed the tiny place, “Nice digs. Not too flashy. I could get used to a place like this.”

Xander muttered, “What makes you think you’ll be staying?”

Faith’s cold, brown eyes found the boy’s and they narrowed with suspicion.

“What was that?” she asked him.

Willow gripped Xander’s arm and looked at him, her silent voice a plea not to aggravate Faith. “Nothing,” she said hurriedly. The redheaded girl walked up to the door and knocked. There was no answer.

“Giles…” she called. The door swung open, and Willow swallowed.

Stating the obvious, Cordelia said, “Okaaayyy, not a good sign.”

Faith pronounced, “Guys, there was a vamp here.” Wesley regarded her.

“Are you sure?” He queried.

The group walked inside to a home that was completely in a state of disarray. Pictures were askew; bottles of liquor were either broken on the floor or littering the place; the rug was disturbed, and the phone was off the hook.

Faith answered Wesley as she scrutinized Giles’ home. “Yeah,” she said. “Tingles are racin’ up my spine. He was very old, very strong. Others were here, too, but they were fledgies.” But her Watcher focused on the older vampire.

“A Master Vampire?” he asked. Faith jerked her head in a nod.

“Angel?” Willow whispered to her friends. “Or Spike?”

“Spike’s in a wheelchair,” Oz put in.

Wesley caught the exchange. He saw Joyce’s purse on the floor and picked it up.

“If he WAS still in a wheelchair…” Wesley said. He observed Faith, who was flipping through a discarded book.

“Oh! Giles would know, or Buffy…” Willow said, also wondering, **if Buffy knew, or Giles, why didn’t they tell us about Spike?**

“We need to find one or both before they do,” Xander responded. The group didn’t need to ask who he was referring to.

“It looks like a prime opportunity to test your training,” Wesley told Faith.

She smiled. Here was the chance of a lifetime to take out not just a vamp, but a supreme vamp.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Giles woke up in what looked like a section of the factory where Angelus, Spike and Drusilla were. The wall was damp and musty, and it had water running down large, brown stones. The Watcher could smell rust all around him, though he didn’t feel any water falling on him.

Looking upward, Giles saw that he was chained to a wall. He tried in vain to flex his wrists so that he could pull his fingers though the chains, but he couldn’t.

Huffing in frustration, Giles looked around for Buffy’s mother. When he didn’t see her at all in the room, he began to panic.

“Joyce!” He called. “Where are you?! What’s going on?”
From out of the shadows, smoke issued forth, followed by a familiar figure wearing his human visage.

“Spike,” Giles said with disgust. “What are you doing here?”

The British vampire blew smoke in his face as he said, “’m here to collect on a debt that needs to be repaid.” He indicated Giles, telling him, “you…for either Slayer. Makes no difference to me.”

Giles bounced back the words, “And, what makes you think there is a second Slayer?”

Spike came closer, snarling, “Oh, I saw her, Rupes! Dark hair, small frame, pretty morsel…a might taller than Miss Tiny Summers. So don’t waste my time ‘n yours denyin’ it!”

Giles didn’t betray any emotions when he said, “If there is one, what do you want either one for, Spike?”

The Watcher could smell the vampire’s nicotine laced breath as Spike responded, “Not tellin’ you a blessed thing, mate.”

Giles looked worried. His mind raced as he speculated. Spike could’ve gotten a meal from anyone in town, so he probably needed a Slayer for some ritual. Whatever the head vampire’s plans were, Giles knew the outcome would be grim if Buffy or the other Slayer got waylaid by him. There was another thing: just what had the vampire done with Buffy’s mother?

“Where is Mrs. Summers, you evil, disgusting…” Giles spat.

Spike shook his golden head back and forth, saying, “Now, now, Rupes. No name callin’ or I’ll have to teach you some respect.”

The vampire thought a moment, then brought forth the demon. Closing the distance between them, he stubbed his cigarette in Giles’ hand. The Watcher winced with pain, but didn’t cry out.

Fixing him with a malicious grin, Spike whispered in the Watcher’s ear, “I’m sure you’ll see things differently when I drain you dry.”

Horrified, Giles said, “I thought I was to be bait.”

The golden haired vampire drew back, measuring Giles with his glowing, yellow eyes as he said, “Never said ‘LIVE bait’, now did I?”

As Giles struggled to free himself, Spike’s fangs descended toward his neck, before he heard a: “naughty, naughty boy, playing with the li’l worm.”

Of all the times Giles had wished for Drusilla and her family to be dust, the Watcher breathed a sigh of relief for her intrusion. Spike morphed back into his human guise, his blue orbs regarding his Sire.

“Sorry, Dru,” he said.

Spike pulled away, slightly miffed that his fun had been disturbed. He looked back at Giles, saying, “I s’pose you were right, Watcher. Live bait does work best. That’s why I know Goldilocks and her mates ‘ll come.”

Dru predicted, nodding in agreement, “The pixies told me that soon the Slayer and the Witch will give Daddy the blood ‘e needs, and the night sky will blot out the sunshine. We’ll have a tea party...just for them.”

Spike started to turn from Giles, but then bit into his neck, taking just a little taste of his blood. When he had his fill, Spike dabbed his finger with some of it for kicks.

“Not bad, Rupes ol mate,” the male vampire said gleefully. “Maybe I’ll have you for dessert after the Slayer and her Witch friend.”

The Watcher slumped over, unconscious. Spike nabbed some more on his first finger, giving Drusilla a taste. She took a long, slow pull of the man’s blood; then, both blond and brunette vampire looked at their hostage and smiled.

“Daddy...” she said, gazing at the room where Angelus lay.

Remembering her Sire, Dru let the sustenance drip into a mug; then, she took the cup to the vampire in the other room, not seeing Spike’s smile vanish and his frown return.

**Always goes back to him**…he thought, watching her as she walked away.

Spike turned, and in a fit of pique, stormed out of the mansion.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Joyce woke up on her lawn by her house, feeling a slight headache. She felt her head for any bumps, and when she was satisfied that she was otherwise okay, Joyce opened her eyes a little wider.

Feeling the cold, night air on her cheeks, she pushed herself up. Buffy’s mother saw that her house didn’t seem to be disturbed. She shook her curly head a few times to clear it and stumbled toward the house.

A moment later, Buffy came up the walkway, shouting, “Mom?” She took in her mother’s disheveled appearance.

“Buffy...” was all Joyce could say at the moment.

Supporting her mother, Buffy let them both inside the house. After getting her mother in an upward position, Buffy fetched some water from the kitchen. “Mom, what’s going on?” she asked, handing Joyce the water, their earlier rift between them temporarily forgotten.

Joyce sipped the water gratefully, saying, “Thanks.” She was a little more agitated as she said, “Buffy! That crazy librarian told me some things...”.

Buffy defended her Watcher, saying, “Mom, he’s not crazy!”

But Joyce insisted, “But he is! He told me a nutty story about there being vampires and slayers in Sunnydale! I’ve heard of paranoid schizophrenia, but what he said goes right off the charts!”

The younger Summers gripped the older Summers’ shoulders, saying, “Mom, I SO don’t have time to tell you everything, but Giles is the sanest man I know! What he told you is true!”

Joyce shook her head, saying, “Buffy...”.

“It IS! Mom, remember Parent’s/Teacher’s night...the one where I defended you and Mr. Snyder from those guys with the ugly faces?”

Joyce nodded, saying, “The PCP gang? The ones whose leader I clubbed with an axe?”

Buffy said, “Yeah, and did I tell you ‘way to go’ for doing that?” She forced herself to stay on topic as Joyce waited for her to finish her thought. “Well, those weren’t druggies.”

The words sank in, as Joyce processed the information. She didn’t want to believe all of the things she’d seen, but her rational side was starting to crumble beneath the weight of mounting evidence.

To add to that, the men wearing black had been murmuring things that she didn’t understand; things about a Council of some kind, perhaps the same one Mr. Giles had spoken of during their talk, and a Slayer. Could her daughter be telling the truth? Dare she believe her at long last?

She looked at Buffy and decided to trust her, for now. If her daughter was delusional, then she could and would deal with her when the time came. The Leader of the Gang did have an otherworldly, demonic look to him. Even in her wildest imaginings, she never saw that kind of look on a drug crazed face on television or in the papers.

“Oh, my God...” Joyce said, her face looking horrified at the startling realization.

Buffy let go of her mother, giving her a split second; then a determined look crossed her face. “Mom, tell me...how did you get back here? Where’s Giles?” She wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” she said. “That PCP leader…vampire…took him. We were in Mr. Giles’ home, and before he could show me something he’d said would prove the existence of vampires, a gang of them shouted to him to come out.

“Apparently, he recognized one of them, because he called him ‘Spike’. Mr. Giles wasn’t going to go outside, but then, one had a girl in his hands and he made to bite her unless Mr. Giles surrendered. I wanted to help him, but he went with them to save the girl.”

“Then what happened?” Buffy asked.

Joyce said, “I went out a side window because I thought they wouldn’t see me. When I thought the coast was clear, I started to run for help, but before I escape, something grabbed me.”

**Spike,** Buffy inwardly concluded.

Aloud, Buffy queried, “Did you see who it was?”

Her mother shook her head, saying, “No. All I know is: I woke up in front of the house. I don’t know why whoever did that didn’t just bring me inside.”

“I do,” Buffy said, remembering about vampires and their need to be invited into one’s home.

She didn’t want to upset her mother about a vampire possibly coming into the house, so she said, “They probably wanted to avoid seeing me, if they were vampires. Usually, they’re afraid of me.”

Not knowing quite how to respond, Joyce simply said, “Oh.”

It was at that time that Buffy saw the note attached to her mother’s right breast and she grabbed it.
Reading it, Buffy told her, “This is Spike’s handwriting, I think.”

Her mother looked at the piece of paper, studying the elegant hand.

“Nice penmanship,” she said. “You really should write more like this.”

Turning away from her mother, Buffy rolled her eyes. She suddenly saw a flash of platinum hair, the only thing illuminated in the moon’s light, and then a swish of something dark.

Spike bravely sauntered up, saying, “’ello, Slayer.” His eyes fixed Joyce with, surprisingly, an affectionate gaze, which frightened her all the more.

“Missus,” he greeted.

“Spike…” Buffy said, glaring at her enemy, while simultaneously, her mother uttered a, “what are you doing here with my daughter?”

The vampire flicked on his lighter, igniting a cigarette and letting the ashes drop to the ground as he responded, “Me an’ the li’l cherub got business to discuss.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Richard Tennant drove to Buffy’s house at the regular speed, eager to avoid detection. He had seen the vampire attack the woman he assumed was Joyce Summers, and he followed the revenant’s path. He didn’t much care about the other who’d been assaulted and captured. Richard didn’t even care about the Summers woman.

Only Buffy Summers mattered. The Little Slayer, as some in his circle called her, was the one thing that his employer wanted above all else. He’d known that, sooner or later, the vampire would lead her to Richard, or she would come on her own.

After that, whatever anyone else did was of little consequence. Richard morphed into his true form, a half demon; half human with grey horns protruding out of his head. He checked his teeth, which were more like a vampire’s fangs in his rear view mirror. Satisfied his smile was as charming as ever, Richard contacted his employer.

“Hello…” he said; then, in his own language, he told his boss, “na’k’ to la a’ larna Summers (no, I don’t have the girl yet)…” he heard his superior; then, he said, “na kr’a’na ta la tar sha’ra (no, the Council doesn’t suspect that I’m anything other than a fellow Watcher,) “sho, no’m be (I understand.)

In English, he said, “I’ll contact you later when I have her. It won’t be long now.” He hung up his car phone.

“Soon, Buffy Summers,” he said softly, “you’ll see things differently. No one rejects my master and gets away with it.” He activated the device he’d told Curtis Wentworth was a magic GPS system and waited, laughing a sinister chuckle.