He found her immediately. There was no mistaking this slayer. Despite her small stature, and butter-wouldn't-melt-bubbleheaded-blonde appearance she reeked of power, it came off her in waves.




She was swaying her curvy little body seductively in time to the steady beat of the music, and he found his mouth lift in a half smile as he watched her. She was dancing quite closely to two others, a hulking boy who looked a little low on the evolutionary scale (and had sodding awful taste in shirts) and a redheaded girl, who would have been quite cute if she wasn't flailing her limbs about so awkwardly. The Slayer leaned in to talk to them occasionally, and laughed at something the girl said. It almost looked like they were... friends. Well, that was a bloody first.



He had known so many Slayers in his time they had almost blurred into one entity, but he had had a gut feeling that this one would be different, and it seemed the little bint was already proving him right.





Buffy tried to hide her disappointment from Willow and Xander. She consolled herself with the fact that she had only mentioned that she might be at the Bronze tonight in a casual, offhand way to Angel, and the teen hangout probably wasn't his scene. She was still disappointed. Though his facial expressions didn't often vary beyond dark and brooding Buffy could tell he liked her, maybe more then a little. She'd been hoping that tonight they could have danced, talked, laughed... Hell, she was really hoping they'd kiss at some point this millenia.





It was while she'd been considering various senarious in which Angels tongue would end up in her mouth that she first felt eyes upon her. It was the weirdest sensation. The back of her neck was tingling in a 'oh great, its a vamp' way, but also in a new 'oh, not a vamp' way at the same time. She could feel the eyes boring into her from the balcony, but she couldn't see a figure amongst the shadows.





Oddly the sensation of being watched didn't make her feel unsettled, it was kinda comforting, and a bit... exciting. Without realising she began to move her hips more sexily, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a pout emerging on her lips. It was all getting Xander very excited, and it caused a few guys to edge closer to her, but she was oblivious. All Buffy was aware of was feeling voluntarily trapped in the pull of the gaze of someone, or something, she couldn't see.





Then her slayer hearing picked up on the sound of a scream coming from the alley behind the Bronze and the spell was broken. She sighed in annoyance, it seemed playtime was over.
She rushed out the fire exit and into darkness,her stake at the ready, just in time to save a young girl from becoming a tasty vamp snack.





Buffy put her hand on her hip and tutted loudly, causing the vamp to spin round as she said, "You know, I saw you inside before, and I have to say that slow dancing with something you plan to eat is just weird".





The vamp had regarded her first with shock and then with a hungry expression. Buffy shook her head, clearly a fledge who didn't know that she was the slayer.
Well, it soon would. She moved with lightning speed, knocking the vampire off his feet and releasing the terrified girl, who immediately followed Buffy's order to run.





A quick fight was all it took and the vamp was dust blowing in the wind. Or it would have been if there had been any wind. As it was he was dust all over her reasonably priced but extremely fashionable shoes.





Buffy was a bit put out that it had taken so little effort, she felt like taking her frustration over the whole Angel 'issues' out on something. She turned to go back into the club, when the sound of slow, sarcastic clapping stopped her in her tracks. Buffy belatedly realized that the tingling she had been feeling was not because of the now dusty vamp, but because her mysterious staring stranger was no longer in the club, but in the alley with her. And now she knew it was a he, because he was speaking.
His voice, powerful, commanding, dangerous, but god oh so sexy, drifted from the shadows and carressed her in the dark.





"Hello Slayer."

“Hello Slayer”

Buffy slowly pivoted on her heel and came face to face with shadow.


The voice spoke again. “Not bad pet, really not bad. You’ve got good...form.” Suddenly there was a hissing click and a flash of flame. Buffy intently studied the strong jaw and twisted smirk that was briefly illuminated as a cigarette, dangling from full lips, was lit. She unknowingly took a step forward as the man took a drag and blew out a plume of smoke as he continued to speak. She had a fleeting thought that he sounded a little like Giles, obviously British, but his accent was rougher, courser... sexier. Buffy shook herself mentally as his words started to get through her oddly foggy head.


“Your right hooks a little sloppy though luv, reckon you’re relyin’ too much on that kicky martial artsy shit m’self. Sure, it looks impressive, but there are better ways to break bones.”


Buffy felt a spark of irritation. She was the Slayer for crying out loud, who the hell was this guy to criticise her? Or call her ‘luv’? For that matter who the hell was he at all?!


“Who are you?” Buffy was annoyed by the slight tremor in her voice. She wasn’t scared of him, despite all the mysterious-can’t-see-what-I-look-like-cos-I’m-standing-in-the-shadows he did, but there was something. Something that was making her heart patter just a bit too fast and was preventing her from hauling him into the light and giving him the arse kicking he was just crying out for.


He laughed then. A chuckle that sent invisible fingers sneaking down her spine.

“Ah pet, now there’s a loaded question. Don’t think you’re ready for all the answers just yet”.


Buffy’s voice was a little shrill as she took another step forward and replied “I don’t care what you think! Who the hell are you?”


Again that laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough. In fact, you’ll only have to wait until Saturday.”


Buffy felt compelled to ask “What happens on Saturday?”

His reply was the last thing she expected.


“On Saturday I save you”.



Buffy spent the rest of the week reflecting on those cryptic words. Just after they were spoken Xander and Willow had burst into the alleyway, getting concerned when Buffy had disappeared and not come back. As soon as they appeared the unidentified presence had vanished, leaving only the lingering smell of cigarette smoke behind as proof that he had ever existed.


Buffy didn’t tell Giles, or her friends, of her encounter. She wasn’t sure why. She started to tell them a number of times, but something always stopped her before the sentences could form. And Saturday. Saturday always beckoned. She would see him again, of that she was sure, and she would get the answers she wanted, even if she had to beat them out of him.


Then Snyder had forced Buffy to ‘Help out’ before and on Fridays Parent Teacher night, and her mind had been thrown into chaos. Divided between worrying about painting a passable banner and wondering whether she would see him again. Would she get the answers to the questions that were slowly driving her mad?

Who was he? And, more importantly, why did it matter?


She saw Angel only once during that week. And as usual he came as the bearer of bad news.


He arrived at Gile’s apartment in the middle of a doughnut endorsed Scooby meeting. There had been a few unusual deaths and disappearances in the last few days that they had decided definitely needed slayer attention. Buffy was sure they had been caused by vamps, but beyond that she had nothing to go on, so they were brainstorming.


Well, they were supposed to be brainstorming. After an hour of coming up with pretty much nothing but implausible scenarios Xander had resorted to sticking two forks into a doughnut and making it dance in an attempt to lighten the mood. His heroic attempts proved to be completely wasted once Angel turned up and imparted his news.


The deaths were indeed vamp related, and Angel knew the vamp in question.


“Her names Drusilla. She’s... she’s a master vampire” Angel was pacing (always a bad sign) and he was running his hand across his brow repeatedly. When Giles heard the name Drusilla he began to polish his glasses, and Buffy knew things were bad indeed.


“Ok......” She drew the word out slowly, waiting for one of the older men to jump in and explain things. When they didn’t she continued; “So, where’s she at? I’ll find her, I’ll stake her, end of story”.

“And back to Mr Doughnuts dancing extravaganza goodness!” Xander chimed in enthusiastically.


As usual, everyone ignored him. Giles and Angel exchanged ‘the look’, which caused Willow to pat Buffy’s hand sympathetically in preparation for the bad news to come.


Giles sighed. “Drusilla is no ordinary enemy Buffy. She is recorded as being one of the most prolific killers in history. That alone is bad enough, but she’s also a seer, and incredibly capable at putting people under her thrall.”

Buffy, Willow and Xander exchanged a look that clearly said “Huh?” while Angel looked increasingly grave and brooding.


Giles realized he would have to elaborate, so he proceeded to do so. “Drusilla is old, almost as old as Angel. In fact” he gave Angel a look of distaste “Angel made Drusilla what she is”.


Buffy turned round eyes on Angel, who seemed to be paying the air above everyone’s heads a great deal of attention.

“You’re her sire?”

Angel looked a bit ashamed as he said, “Yes, she is my childe. She traveled the world with Darla and I. She was part of our family.”


There was a very uncomfortable pause.

Giles, though not caring one bit for Angels’ discomfort, decided to fill it.

“She’s powerful Buffy. She has visions, can often see what will happen long before it occurs, and she can control minds, make you see things she wants you to see, or do things she wants you to do. She is dangerous. Very dangerous indeed. And she has a... Slayer fixation”


Willow gulped loudly. “Slayer fixation? What does that mean?”

It was Angel who spoke up this time. “She’s obsessed, possessed, by the desire to kill a slayer. She has been for over a century. She hasn’t managed it yet, but she’s come close. Very close. And she’s never been killed by one, so that shows how dangerous she is.” He looked pointedly at Buffy “She’s unhinged, she won’t stop until she succeeds.”


Buffy rolled her eyes, and very nearly snorted. “So a vampire wants to kill the slayer, what else is new?”

At some point, as Giles lectured Buffy on her ‘cavalier attitude’, and the ‘importance of being prepared for the worst’, while Angel looked grave, Willow panicked and Xander made inappropriate jokes, Buffy had decided she had had enough of this night. Once she realised all the doughnuts were gone, and Giles was not in the mood to share his precious stash of jaffa cakes, Buffy promptly made her excuses, and assurances to ‘be careful’ and fled.



She knew Angel was following her home, no doubt in some attempt to protect her in case Drusilla decided to strike, but she just wasn’t in the mood to make awkward conversation and didn’t bother to acknowledge his presence.



The walk home was uneventful, Buffy’s only tinglies caused by her dark and handsome shadow, which seemed to fade away when she reached the house.



Buffy was pleased to see the living room lights still on. Her mom had waited up, and over a cup of her famous hot chocolate Buffy enjoyed more than ever a rare conversation with someone which didn’t involve the dead, the undead, or the may-soon-be-dead-if-we-don’t-save-them.



She went to bed that night thinking, as she had been all week, about Mr sexy accent. If he was true to his word she would see him in two days time, she was hoping more then she would admit that he was. She was also worrying about the looming parent teacher night. The fact that this small event scared her more than the news that a centuries old vampire was after her blood seemed perfectly reasonable. Sure, this Drusilla woman could bring about her death, but Snyder could ruin her life, and at the moment that was her priority.



Parent teacher night had arrived. Buffy couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of pride amongst all the concern over whether things were perfect. She had actually pulled it off, admittedly Willow and Xander had helped (a lot) but still, she had done good!



Buffy was rearranging the cups around the punch bowl when Xander came over and hit her playfully on the arm, accidentally making her knock over her neatly stacked arrangement. She turned to him with a look that could freeze stolen blood and he laughed uneasily as he bent to pick them up.



“Sorry Buffster, don’t know my own strength. Snyder didn’t see, so we’re good with giving people floor cups.”

Buffy immediately, and nervously, started scanning the room for Snyder. As usual he was lurking in his creepy way, but luckily far away from them.



Xander leaned towards her to give her arm a reassuring pat, and then thought better of it. He settled for putting on his winning smile. “You’ve done great Buff, really great. As parent teacher nights go, this one’s awesome. Well, not awesome, it’s still parents and teachers in the same room, but it’s well organised... and...and your sign looks pretty. I reckon Snyder will lay off you after this”.



Buffy (stupidly as it turned out) allowed herself to feel relief, and smiled back at her friend. As soon as she did, the vampires arrived. And all hell broke loose.



They swarmed through the window they had so disrespectfully smashed, and quickly began to attack every parent and teacher in sight with delighted (and sickening) woops. Buffy’s first thought was for her mother’s safety, and after finding her she pushed her towards Xander and Willow. “Take her somewhere safe, now!” They did as she asked without question and Joyce was too dazed by the turn events had taken to put up a fight. Buffy then pulled out the ever trusty Mr Pointy and jumped into the fray. She soon realised that the vamps were minions, a newly risen vampire army. They had guts, she had to give them that, but little style and no appreciation of just how dangerous a short blonde with a sharpened piece of wood could be. She dusted three without taking a breath. At that point Willow came back into the room, and up to Buffy, dodging flailing vamp arms admirably.



She had to yell above the panicked cries “Your moms safe, Xanders got her holed up in a classroom, he was gonna barricade the door”.



Buffy spared her a grateful look as she punched, kicked, staked and yelled back, "try and get everyone out of here, i’ll block the door and keep the vamps busy.”

Willow was even paler then usual but she nodded determinedly and started trying to herd the people who were running around aimlessly, while Buffy did her thing.



Buffy fought like she had never fought before, but a few vamps got passed her and ran out into the hall after Willows group. Buffy dusted or incapacitated those who remained before taking off after them. She had been hit in the head and had blood dripping into her eyes, and she was limping a little from a wound to her leg, but it didn’t even register.



Following the noise Buffy ran down the maze of halls, before she saw someone who made her stop in her tracks.

Drusilla. Buffy knew it was her as surely as she knew that wearing brown boots with a black skirt was just plain wrong.



Drusilla turned out to be much more beautiful and much more insane then Buffy had expected.

Her hair fell in long dark waves down her shoulders, a striking contrast to her alabaster skin, which seemed to have an eerie glow. She had blood red, perhaps bloodstained, lips standing prominently from her heart shaped face, but it was her eyes which caused Buffy the most concern. They were glitteringly manic and yet seemed to be out of focus, as though she was looking at something very far away. Instinctively Buffy did not look into them, but studied the rest of her instead. She was wearing an old fashioned red velvet dress, which clung to her ample curves. Buffy couldn’t help but dart a resentful look at her own less-than-spectacular-chest.



Suddenly Drusilla spoke. Her voice was as comforting as a mothers embrace and as chilling as an icy wind at the same time. She had a British accent fairly similar to that of the man she had ‘met’, but Buffy didn’t have time to question the significance of this, she was too busy trying to understand what Drusilla was saying.



“Such a pretty one you are. Like a doll. You and Miss Edith could be sisters. But I don’t think Miss Edith would like you, and she doesn’t like to share her tea. The stars, they told me you’d be pretty. They whispered it to me in my dreams. The stars never lie. They shine, like you. You’re all shiny. Like sunshine you are. But soon you’ll be all covered in dirt, and there won’t be any sunshine, and I won’t get burnt.”



Buffy was a bit unnerved by these ramblings, but she didn’t let it show as she quipped “Okayyyyyy, somebody’s a few shoes short of a shop aren’t they?”



Drusilla acted as though she hadn’t heard, and continued, “I had such a plan for you my doll. We were going to have a party, and it was going to be such fun. It was going to be a special party, I was going to wear my best frock and we were going to play a game.” She began to look like a sullen child. “Then I had to bring the party forward, but the invitations were all sent out for tomorrow, not tonight, so now there’s no tea or sandwiches and the parties all spoilt. It’s all spoilt and now we have to play a different game, and it’s all his fault!”



Buffy couldn’t stop herself from asking “Whose fault?”

Drusilla flicked her eyes to Buffy suddenly, as if she was only now aware she had actually been talking to someone. Their eyes locked, and in a less than a moment Buffy was caught. No matter how desperately she tried she couldn’t move an inch as Drusilla began to sway seductively towards her, talking all the while. “He’s a very naughty boy he is. He should be sent to bed without supper. The stars whisper to him too, he sees things like me. He knew about my party and he was going to spoil it, like he spoils all my parties. I don’t send him an invitation, but he always comes.” She giggled now, and through her paralysis Buffy felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “But I tricked him didn’t I? I changed the party. The spy becomes the spied and the spy gets to catch her fly”. Drusilla was now within an arms reach of Buffy. She lifted her hand slowly, raising it to the level of Buffy’s throat, when a sudden noise from somewhere else in the school made her turn her head, and the thrall was broken.



Buffy didn’t waste a second, but launched in with a kick which sent Drusilla flying backwards. The vampress was on her feet instantly though, and shifted into game face as she said with delight “Ooo goody, the little dolly wants to play. Mummy wants to play a special game though, and dolly might get broken.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “This dolly doesn’t break so easy”.

Then the fight began in earnest and Buffy began to regret her flippant remark. As punches and kicks were exchanged she quickly realised that Drusilla was strong, very strong. Buffy became aware of the injuries she had sustained fighting off the minions, she was already tired and she couldn’t get the upper hand, couldn’t land a definitive blow. The vamp was gradually moving her backwards, blocking her into a corner, and Buffy couldn’t see a way out.

With lightning speed Drusilla had Buffy pinned against the wall and as her long nails cut into the skin of Buffy’s neck she knew with a sickening certainty that this was the end. Drusilla smiled, “Time for my present”, and bent her head, her fangs descending on Buffy’s throbbing pulse.





There was the sound of a dull thump, Drusilla’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to the floor. Buffy, who was no longer being held up, almost did the same, but was stopped by a strong, cold hand. The contact sent electric thrills up and down her arm.



Though Buffy’s heart was racing and her head was all over the place there was no mistaking the voice which said, “Don’t think that was the present she was expectin, but I just didn’t know what to get the crazy bint”.

Buffy’s heart caught in her throat and her heart almost burst from her chest as she finally looked upon the man who had dominated her thoughts.



He was perfection. The bluesest of blue eyes shone from flawless ivory skin. His chiselled cheek bones and strong jaw appeared as though carved. His hair was slicked back and platinum blonde, but his eyebrows were dark. One was quirked (in the sexiest way), whilst the other had a scar running through it. The full lips she had only glimpsed before were twisted into a smirk, and he oozed sensuality.

He threw the axe he was holding to one side and tugged on her hand, leading her away from the prone body of the insane vampress.

He wasn’t very tall, and his body was lithe, compact, but his presence was massive. He was clothed entirely in black, from his scuffed combat boots and wonderfully tight jeans to his t-shirt and sweeping leather duster.

Buffy had never seen anyone like him before, and found that she never wanted to look away.

The sound of his voice was the only thing which snapped her out of her lust induced haze.

“See something you like pet?”

He sounded amused, and the look in his eyes was so suggestive that Buffy snatched her hand away as though burned.

She felt like she had been scorched, but from the inside, filled with a flame whose heat could not be quenched.

She forced herself to put aside her confused thoughts and remember the questions she had for this man.

She would find out what she wanted to know, and she would still beat it out of him if she had to. Even if he did look like a god.

The first question was not the one she intended to ask, but flew out of her mouth without further thought.

“What are you doing here?” her voice came out a bit louder and harsher then she’d intended. She would never have admitted it but she was scared. Not of him exactly, though his power and strength was obvious, but the sensations he was creating within her made her feel out of control, and she hated feeling out of control.

This wasn’t helped when he adopted a mock serious expression and answered with, “I’m here for cheerleader tryouts pet. Go sport.”



Buffy nearly laughed. The corners of her mouth twitched as she briefly imagined this hunk of manliness jumping around in a skimpy cheerleader’s uniform.

She squashed the impulse and asked again, this time more indignantly.

He snorted, “I was saving your life you ungrateful chit!” He started muttering under his breath and Buffy was pretty sure he said ‘bloody ungrateful birds... strutting around in their little skirts, just askin to be eaten. Bloke does a girl a favour, doesn’t even get a swoonin thanks anymore...”

Then he slipped from annoyed to suggestive in an instant. He hooked his thumbs into his jeans and Buffy’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the sizable bulge he was framing, which was obviously his intention.

He leered and drawled, “There are ways you could thank me you know, show your appreciation...”

Buffy tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a deadly stare. “I had the situation completely under control before you turned up, so there will be no appreciation-ing of any kind.”

He ran his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes, “Bloody sorry pet, If I’d known you were wantin to have that pretty little throat of yours ripped out I wouldn’t have bothered stopping by.”

The fact that he had, actually, saved her life, albeit a day earlier then promised, really annoyed Buffy. She was the slayer, she saved other people, they did not save her.

She nearly yelled at him, “I’m gonna ask you one more time, and then I am totally gonna kick your ass. Who. The. Hell. Are. You?”

As she was talking he was lighting up a cigarette, on her last word he blew a plume of smoke into Buffy’s face and waited, with his head tilted to one side, to see if she’d make good on her threat.

The silence drew out between them. She took a step forwards. Suddenly there was a far off cry.

“Buffy? Buffy!?”

It was Willow, and she sounded worried.

He looked amused, “Think your wanted pet.” He turned to leave.

She grabbed his arm and was again shocked by the electric currents the contact produced.

He was looking directly at her and Buffy’s breath caught. It felt as though he was looking inside her, seeing not only everything she was but everything she could be. It was like being naked before him, but this thought, weirdly, did not make her uncomfortable. Suddenly his gaze became distant, as though he was looking beyond her, seeing something beyond them. “Watch your back luv, she’ll be back.” Buffy suddenly remembered Drusilla and spun around. Sure enough, Drusilla was gone.

Buffy’s mushy thoughts about him vanished, to be replaced by anger. “Why the hell didn’t you dust her when you had the chance you idiot?!”

He gave her a rueful smile. “You’re the slayer, figured it was your job to slay-her. Sides, it wasn’t time. Anywho I’ll be seeing you kitten. Soon.”

He tugged his arm from her grasp and started to saunter off.

For the second time that night Buffy couldn’t move, she wanted to follow him, but not knowing whether she wanted to kiss or beat him senseless froze her in place.

“By the way” he called over his shoulder, before he disappeared from sight, “The names William. William the Bloody. But my friends call me Spike.” He chuckled. “At least they would, if I had any friends...”

And then he was gone.

The rest of parent teacher night passed in a blur for Buffy. Willow had managed to get almost everyone out of the building safely, including Buffy’s mom. They had only met one vamp on the way and, as Xander was telling anyone who would listen, he dusted it good.



Angel had turned up when everything was winding down, and Snyder was telling anyone who would listen that they had been attacked by a drugged up gang of youths. He was broodingly apologetic about not being there to help Buffy deal with his murderous childe.

Buffy quickly knew that there was something more bothering him, he seemed confused and uncertain, (two things he had rarely, if ever, seemed before) and he kept sniffing the air in a way that was most wiggy. She had asked him if he was ok and as he replied that he was fine his expression went blank. Suspiciously blank. But Buffy didn’t press the issue, she had other things on her mind. Attitude giving peroxide blonde things.



Buffy once again did not mention her unusual meeting, though all she could think about was Spike. (She couldn’t think of him as William, he was most definitely a Spike. She kept wondering how he had got the nickname, and most of her musings made her end up blushing.)



Two days passed without sight or sound of Drusilla. Or Spike. Buffy was sat in the library with Giles who had been giving her a good old fashioned lecture about ‘safety, responsibility and callings’ when she suddenly realised that a) she hadn’t been listening to a word he was saying, and b) he had noticed and was not amused.

He had his serious ‘I am your very wise watcher and you must listen to me or be doomed’ expression on his face as he said, “I simply don’t know what has gotten in to you lately Buffy. You are distracted and unresponsive, It’s as if you have more important things to concern yourself with than potential death.”

Hearing the tone of his voice, half exasperation half fond concern, Buffy made a split decision and asked, “Giles, have you ever heard of someone called William the Bloody?”



Giles’ mouth pretty much hit the floor, and he whipped his glasses from his face so quickly he accidentally threw them across the room. When he didn’t seem to notice this but started to violently polish the air Buffy was pretty sure he had.

Giles was silent for an annoyingly long time.



Buffy cleared her throat, loudly. Giles continued to polish the air.



“Um, Giles, your kinda wiggin me out. I take it you have heard of William the Bloody?”



Giles looked at her as though she had grown two heads. “Of course I’ve heard of William the Bloody! Everyone’s heard of William the Bloody!”



Buffy arched an eyebrow at this statement.



“Well, every Watcher has heard of him. He’s a... mystery, an enigma... a legend. How did you come to know his name?” Giles sounded wistful and then hopeful.



Buffy decided that if she wanted Giles to be honest with her, she had to be honest with him, so she replied, “He told me when I met him.”



This time Giles looked as though he might faint. His voice came out as a croak as he said “You met him? You really met him?”



Buffy squirmed in her seat a little as she said “He sort of saved my life. A bit. At parent teacher night.”



Giles suddenly and literally sprung into action, running to the back of the library and his private books. He was moving quicker then Buffy had ever seen him move, and was back in front of her in seconds. “Blast! Where the bloody hell are my glasses?”



Despite her anxiety to know what had gotten Giles so riled Buffy had to stifle a giggle at the high pitched curse coming out of her normally calm watcher. “You kinda chucked them, over there.”



Giles almost ran to where Buffy gestured and then back over to his books.



Once again he returned quickly, this time with an old and hefty looking volume in his arms. He was flipping through the pages like a mad man. He gave a cry of success and thrust the book at Buffy, stabbing the page wildly as he said, “Is this who you saw?”



Buffy gave a sharp intake of breath as she looked at the drawing before her.



It was him. There was no mistaking it. He wasn’t as he was when she had seen him, his hair was dark for a start, and stuck up in messy curls. The leather duster and jeans were gone; he wore instead an old fashioned white shirt, which was open almost to the waist revealing the chiselled chest Buffy had imagined. The shirt was un-tucked over deliciously tight black trousers, and high black boots. The face was the same, the same sculpted beauty, but the expression was not a smirk of amusement, but of concentration, aggression, of raw animal power.



He was wielding a sword, and was standing before what could only be described as a sea of demons. Buffy then noticed that he was wounded, the artist had drawn various cuts around his body, but there was not one above his eye, nor was there already a scar.



It was him. But the drawing was in a book that must have been over a hundred years old. What did it mean?



“Well? Was it him?” Giles sounded impatient and Buffy realised she had been lost in admiration and awe for a long time.



Her voice came out as a whisper. “Yes, that’s him. Giles, who is he?”



Giles exhaled loudly, sinking into a chair and running a shaking hand through his hair.



“This book was written in 1892, after the greatest apocalypse threat in recorded history had been averted, thanks to the united efforts of the slayer and that man. That Buffy is William the Bloody, Saviour of Slayers.”



Buffy snorted a laugh. “Saviour of Slayers? What kind of a name is that?”



Giles gave her a reproachful look. “It’s a well deserved name, as you found out for yourself on Friday.”



Buffy blushed a little. “He was just in the right place at the right time! Xander could have hit Drusilla with that axe if he’d been around.”



Giles narrowed his eyes at her. “You wouldn’t be so flippant if you knew just who it was who saved you Buffy.”



“Then tell me! Please. Giles who is he? How has he lived this long? What is he? Is he a vampire?”



Giles gave her a penetrating look. “As he’s revealed himself to you he will doubtless return. I’ll tell you everything the council knows about him, and what I’ve found out on my own. It’s rather a long story Buffy, so please don’t interrupt. If you can help it.”



Buffy waited patiently while Giles polished his glasses, yet again. Finally he began.



“The council records state that in 1859 the slayer, Jane Cronmer, went rogue. She had been, up until that point, an exemplary slayer, a natural to her calling. She single handedly prevented three apocalypses, and, at nineteen, was the oldest slayer in history when she disappeared.”



“Disappeared?”



Giles continued as though Buffy hadn’t spoken. “For over a year the council heard nothing of her, but they knew she hadn’t died as no other slayer had been called. Finally, they heard news. Jane had abandoned her calling because she had fallen in love. With a vampire.” Giles looked pointedly at Buffy with Angel clearly on his mind. “He was known as The Predator. Needless to say, this vampire did not have a soul. He was just about as soulless as you could get. He killed without mercy, had been known to massacre whole villages for fun, and he had a particular reputation for torture. He was ruthless. Bloodthirsty. Pure Evil. The council initially hoped that Jane had been put under some sort of thrall, and that they could rescue her. Unfortunately it soon became clear that this was not the case, she had been seduced by the dark, and she revelled in it.”



“I thought you said that Vampires couldn’t fall in love? At least, Vampires without a soul.” She added hastily.



“They can’t” Giles replied firmly. “But The Predator was far from stupid; he knew what having the slayer as his mate would mean, protection and added strength. He would have easily convinced Jane that he returned her love. They joined forces and strengths, causing devastation untold. The council knew she had to be stopped. She had to be eliminated so that a new slayer could be called and the light would have a champion once again.”

There was an awful silence, then,



“They killed her?! The council killed her?!” Buffy’s voice had become shrill.



Giles sighed, “Buffy, you have to understand, she was no longer the slayer, she was the enemy. A very powerful, dangerous enemy. The council had a duty to protect the innocent, she had to be stopped.”



“So they killed her?” Buffy repeated in disbelief.



Giles looked sad, and suddenly older as he shook his head. “They tried, but every attempt was a failure, ending in the death of at least one member of the council. They didn’t know what to do, Jane was out of control, beyond the councils reach. And then... then the unthinkable happened. Jane fell pregnant. She had a son.”



“A son?” Buffy’s head spun. She had never heard of a slayer living past twenty one, let alone having a child, and a human having a child with a vampire was impossible. Wasn’t it?



Giles nodded. “The council didn’t believe it could be true at first, but they received visual confirmation. Against all the laws of nature the couple had had a child, a boy, who Jane named William.”



Buffy looked as though she was going to interrupt again so Giles plunged on with his tale.



“The council came to believe that The Powers That Be had intervened to make this happen, as having the baby changed Jane. Faced with the purity and innocence of her own child the guilt over what she had done hit her hard. She didn’t want her son to be damned as she and his father were. She wanted to repent, to try and repair what she had done so that her William could grow up in a safer world. The Predator did not take kindly to Jane’s change of heart. He tried to force her to continue on their path of darkness. She decided that the only way to keep her son safe was to leave her, uh hum... lover... She went on the run, she managed to evade him for a while, but he wouldn’t let her go. When he found her he tried to make her love him again, but her eyes had been cleared. He... he tortured her, to within an inch of her life, but she would not relent. So he killed her, in front of their four year old child, so that she would know exactly how he planned to raise him.”



Buffy had been shocked into silence, and Giles didn’t seem inclined to continue for the time being.





After a while Buffy thought of something. “Giles, if vampires can’t love why did The Predator keep his son alive? Surely having a kid around would have well, cramped his style?”



“I have no doubt that he would have killed his son, if his mother had not managed to keep him alive for long enough for his father to realise he happened to be an extraordinary being.”



“What do you mean?”



“It soon became clear that William was not a human, but nor was he a vampire. He was a mixture of both, immortal and reliant on blood to live but able to withstand sunlight and the other vamperic weaknesses, whilst also embodying the strength and ancient power of the slayer. The Predator planned to raise his son to be his greatest weapon. His childhood was one of violence and pain. He was taught to follow in his father’s footsteps, groomed to be a ruthless, sadistic killer, but the Predator vastly underestimated the slayer side of William, and the strength of his humanity. When he was no more than your age his ability and power had far surpassed that of his fathers. Determined that he would not be a pawn in the Predators deadly game, one night he turned on him. He killed him.”



Buffy gulped, “How did he kill him?”



Giles coughed and squirmed uncomfortably. “He tortured him in the same way he had seen his mother be tortured, with a railroad spike, and then he staked him. After that it was said that a railroad spike was his favourite weapon to use against enemies. He has actually been referred to as ‘Spike’ in some journals.”



That was so not the way Buffy had imagined Spike to get his nickname, but she still thought it suited him more than William.



“For several years there was no record of what became of William, and then, in 1884 he came to the aid of the slayer of the time when she was in most desperate need. He went on to save her life on several occasions, and when she died he did the same for the next slayer, and the next, and the one after that.

The council repeatedly attempted to make contact with him, but he never appeared to anyone but the slayer he was aiding, and very occasionally their watchers. His fighting prowess earned him the nickname of William the Bloody, and he later became known as The Saviour of Slayers. The sketch I showed you is one of only a handful of images that exist of him. What records the council has of his activities and achievements are down to accounts made by the slayers and their watchers, and the councils spies. Anything that was not known to be fact was speculated and conjectured. A lot of his past and his power remains a mystery.”



Buffy was reeling from all the new information, and Giles was not done yet.



“In the 1970’s William was known to be in New York, aiding a slayer called Nicky Wood. When she was killed William disappeared, no trace could be found of him, and he has not appeared to any slayer since. Until you Buffy. The council believed he had been killed, I never even dreamed it would be my slayer who revealed him once more.” Giles looked ridiculously proud for a moment, and Buffy couldn’t help but feel a bit special.



After hearing of what Spike had been through, and knowing that a lot more had probably happened to him, of which she had no idea, Buffy’s conflicting feelings concerning him grew even more turbulent.

Many things still puzzled her, but one thing stuck out particularly. “Giles, how come Spi-William knows when Slayers are in trouble and where to go to help them? And if he’s as kick ass as you say he is, how come he doesn’t always save them?”



Giles looked at her as though she was a very bright student who had just noticed a flaw in a particularly complicated math problem.

“That Buffy is a very good question, and one which concerned the council for decades. Many slayers were asked to find out how William seemed to know what was coming, but only one slayer ever got the answer. Nicky Wood kept journals which would make any watcher proud” Giles gave Buffy a pointed look which she determinedly ignored, being well aware that at that very moment the journal Giles had been badgering her to keep was being used to prop her bedroom door open. “In one of her last entries Nicky detailed a conversation with ‘Spike’ (as she called him) in which he answered many questions for her. It seems as though, through his mother’s blood, William has a primal connection with the slayer line, and is consequently subjected to slayer dreams and visions. He is able to see when a slayer is in trouble, or see how their future lies, and so save them or alter the course of their destiny.”

There was a dramatic pause and Buffy felt her arms getting all tingly.

“William also explained that when he no longer received visions about a slayer, or when their future was blocked from his sight it meant that their time as slayer was at an end, and nothing he could do would save them.”



Buffy fervently hoped that Spike would be having visions about her for a long, long time to come.



With all the talk of visions Buffy suddenly remembered Drusilla, and some of her mad ramblings suddenly seemed to make sense. Then she felt a bit sick.



“Giles, when I was at the school and Spike- William- whatever, stopped Drusilla from killing me, it seemed as though, it was like they knew each other. Do you, do you think that means he knows, or used to know, Angel?”



There was a sudden bang and the library door was thrown open.



“Oh, me and peaches go way back luv. How is captain forehead these days?”



Spike lounged against the doorframe as though he owned the place, and whilst Buffy’s heart skidded out of control Giles promptly squealed in a very un man-ly manner before fainting dead away.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I sure do know how to make an entrance.”

Buffy couldn’t say a word as Spike sauntered into the room, casually ashing his cigarette on a near by pile of books.



He prodded Gile’s prone body with the tip of his boot and quirked an eyebrow. “Can’t say as my good looks and charm have ever had an effect like this on a male watcher before. Don’t rightly know whether I’m flattered or disturbed.”



Buffy rolled her eyes and got her voice back, his cocky attitude making her retort, “Get over yourself, Spike, you just surprised him with your whole jumping out of the shadows bit.”



Spike smirked. “A watcher who collapses whenever things jump out of the shadows... sounds damn useful to me pet.”



Buffy couldn’t think of anything to say to this other then “Shut up Spike”, which seemed to have no effect whatsoever, as he carried on talking.



“Thought I’d stop by, have a bit of a chit chat with you and sleeping beauty here, tell you what’s what with Dru and that, but seems I’ll have to wait for naptime to be over” He licked his lips, “Is it time for you to have a lie down too pet? I could show you what other effects I have on people.”



Buffy blushed all the way to her bleached roots but managed to sound disgusted as she replied, “Is one of them projectile vomiting?”



Spike chuckled. “That’s a bit of an improved comeback kitten. Once you get to know me better I’m sure the claws will really come out.”



As Spike was talking he had reached over Giles, plucking his glasses from his face before proceeding to slide them up his own nose. “Bloody hell! The poor buggers blind!” Spike looked at Giles thoughtfully. “Must be why he dresses the way he does.”



The sight of Spike in Giles’s glasses made it very difficult for Buffy to maintain her composure, she managed to only by reminding herself of the distasteful comments and generally lecherous and not-at-all-sexy attitude Spike directed towards her. She was very determined that she wouldn’t like him, despite the empathy she felt over his pretty horrible life story, his current white knight gig and his (damn spectacular) looks. She was still really annoyed that she’d needed him to come to her rescue. Her friends coming to her aid was one thing, a non-human complete stranger who-thought-he-was-all-that was something else.



Buffy suddenly remembered what Spike had said when he’d made his overly dramatic entrance.

“Whose peaches?”





Spike gave her a withering look over the top of his stolen specs. “Peaches, Captain forehead, Tall dark and brooding, Mr blank and boring... he goes by many names but his expression remains the same.”





“You mean Angel?!” Buffy squealed in outrage.





“I think my terms of endearment are more accurate, angelic face my arse, but hey, call him want you want.”





Buffy was mad. She and Angel might not be in the place she wanted, and Spike’s arrival might have thrown her emotions into a tizzy, but she had a connection with Angel and she didn’t want to hear him insulted. “You’re an ass”.





“Thank you.”





“That wasn’t meant to be a compliment.”





Spike sighed. “The subtleties of sarcasm really are lost on you Americans aren’t they? And I take back what I said about the retorts becoming more witty.”





Buffy chose to ignore this, though the temptation to hit Spike squarely in the nose was getting stronger by the second. “So you do know Angel then?”





“For my sins.” Spike didn’t seem overly interested in elaborating, but was paying more attention to Giles, who had started to stir. Spike took the glasses off and put them on the table while he helped Giles to a seat.





“Thank yo-“ Even with blurred sight Giles saw who was helping him and went into shock again, though this time he managed to stay conscious, and scrabbled to put his glasses on.





Spike pretended not to notice the effect he was having, and sprawled in a chair between Buffy and Giles, propping his feet up on the table and lighting up another cigarette.





“William the Bloody” Giles said in an awed whisper.





“Call me Spike mate, it’s a tad less formal, reads better on a greeting card.”





Buffy smirked. “Yeah, Spike sounds a lot less stupid.”





Spike tilted his head to one side and his lip twitched. “Do you really want to start a discussion on stupid names Buffy?”





Buffy was prevented from retorting by Giles starting to speak in a reverent tone, “You have no idea, what a... what an honour it is to to meet you...Spike”





Spike looked intently at Giles, “For once Rupes the feelings mutual. From what I’ve seen”, he tapped the side of his head, “you’re a lot more then a normal watcher.”



Giles seemed ridiculously flattered, he glowed bright red and started polishing his glasses with a gleeful air. “You’ve had... had visions about me?”





Spike still seemed thoughtful. “Yeah, which is pretty much a first. Anything I have seen about other watchers lives has been bloody dull, toasting crumpets, doin puzzles, almost gettin laid, that kinda thing. But you, you're something else. You’re led a very interesting life... Ripper.”



At the mention of his old nickname, a reminder of his dangerous, rebellious past, Giles didn’t look abashed. On the contrary, he seemed really pleased that Spike was obviously impressed with him. Giles was looking at him the way Buffy looked at a pair of designer shoes on sale, almost adoration. His hero worship for Spike was much greater then Buffy had realised.





“I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you have decided to appear to Buffy. I really hope she proves to be a slayer worthy of your aid, the slayer I know she can be.”



“Hey! I’m more then worthy, I’m the worthiest.” Buffy was glaring. Spike was making Giles doubt her abilities. Now she really didn’t like him. “I thought you’d come here to give us information, not suck up to my watcher.”





“Buffy!”





“It’s ok Rupes, she’s right. As much as I’d like to reminisce about the home land over a nice scotch... by the by, you don’t happen to have any here do you?”





“Yeah Spike, Giles stores hard liquor in the library of a high school, that’s likely” Buffy turned to share a smile with Giles, but he had run off to his office, only to return, to Buffy’s mortification, with a large bottle of scotch and two glasses.





Spike grinned, “Did you say something pet?”



“Uh, no.”





Spike waited until Giles had poured him a very generous glass before he decided to put Buffy out of her misery and actually get to the point. He left behind the Buffy aimed innuendos now that Giles was conscious and became almost professional.





“As Rupes already did a bloody good job of telling the edited version of my life story we’ll skip the touchy feely getting to know you crap and get right to how I can help.”





Giles was nodding like an over enthusiastic jack in the box and it was making Buffy nauseous. Something came to her then which really hadn’t occurred to her before. It had the potential to put Spike in a bad light with Giles so she didn’t hesitate before speaking up. “Hang on a second Spike, if you’re supposed to be this amazing ‘saver of slayers’-“



“Saviour”





“Whatever. So yeah, if going around saving slayer’s lives is your thing, and you’ve decided to come out of retirement or whatever to help me out, not that I need your help, where the hell were you when the master was like, well, killing me and stuff?”





Spike leaned across the table so he was intimate inches from Buffy. When he spoke she felt his cool breath on her skin, and she once again found herself wondering how there could be eyes so impossibly blue. “If you’d shut that pretty little mouth of yours for two minutes and let me talk luv, I’ll explain all that.”





With a strength of will Buffy pulled herself away from his intense stare and flopped back into her chair, crossing her arms to show she wasn’t best pleased by his lack of respect for the slayer as she muttered ungraciously, “Fine, the spotlights yours.”





Spike did a mock bow. Giles had his head propped up on his hand, like a child about to hear a really exciting story. Spike began.





“You know the basics of my life, or unlife or whatever you want to call it, up until the late 1970’s. I know you’ve probably got a shed load more questions about all of that but now’s not the time for them. I’m not gonna go into much detail over why I... went away, or what happened after so don’t bloody well ask, but I’ll tell you what you need to know.”





Buffy grew interested despite herself and sat up a little

straighter.





“Nicky Wood was the last slayer I helped. She and I... we were... you could say we were friends. When she... when she died, it wasn’t like it had been with all the other slayers. There wasn’t a sudden blankness in my vision, the lack of sight that comes when a slayers time is up and I can’t do a damn thing about it. I saw. I knew what was going to happen. I tried to stop it, and I failed. She died. And it was my fault.” Spike paused and took a deep breath; he clearly wanted to get through this part of the story as quickly as possible. Buffy felt her heart wrench. “After that... it took a long time to recover from that. I blocked my sight, made it so I couldn’t see the slayers. I couldn’t see them anymore. I didn’t ever want to have a slayers blood on my hands again. I vanished.”





“What made you reappear?” Giles had adopted a hushed tone, as though unwilling to break the spell Spike had started to weave with his story.





Spike inclined his head. “Buffy. Buffy made me come back.”





Buffy’s mouth fell open. “Me? What did I do?”





Spike gave her another one of his soul penetrating stares. “You lived.”



“I had visions about you, even though I was trying to block them. I didn’t know at the time, but the nancying powers that sodding be wanted me to see you. I saw you right from your early fun and games, by the by, burning down that school, I liked that. Real school spirit that was.” Spike stopped smiling abruptly. “Then last year I saw the blackness coming, the nothingness. That should have been it for visions of you, but then I saw how you would die, at the hands of the master. And then, straight after, I saw you come back, thanks to your friend. Never seen any bloody thing like it. A slayer with friends, let alone friends who would risk their lives for her, took a bit of getting used to. Then I saw what was coming, and I couldn’t stay in the shadows anymore. I’d already decided to come here before the powers paid me a visit.”





Giles choked on a mouthful of scotch but Buffy was too lost in what she was hearing to be grossed out by the spray of dribble. Giles didn’t seem to notice Spike over dramatically wiping his face. “You’re... you’re in contact with th-the powers that be?”





Spike helped himself to another drink and lit up yet again before he nodded. “Unfortunately. Bloody wankers like to check in every now and again, make sure I’m playing nice with the other children.” He smirked. “They can’t control me in the way they’d like – believe me they’ve tried- but they like to know what I’m up to, send me the odd vision or two outside of my own sight they think I should see. I ignore them more often than not, just for the fun of pissin ‘em off, but this time they got my attention.



The powers had already got the ponce- sorry, Angel- on the scene, but then Drusilla threw her last sandwich out of the hamper and messed up their careful little order of things. She wasn’t supposed up show up in Sunnyhell til later, don’t ask me when cos I don’t have a sodding clue, but turning up earlier meant that you might die, and the powers couldn’t have that. They seem to have some sort of plan for you pet, but I wouldn’t get all whooptie whoop about it, their plans are usually right questionable.



Anyway, that’s why I turned up when I did. Drusilla tried to outsmart me, but I saw what was going down just in the nic of time, your welcome by the way luv. I’ve seen a fair bit of what’s to come, and there’s not actually a great deal I can do about it, much as I’d bloody well like to.” Spike looked a little troubled.





Giles spoke up before Buffy was able to, “Can you tell us what’s to come? So we can prepare?”





Spike looked directly at Giles, and there was definitely sadness in his gaze. “Wish I could mate, really wish I could. It doesn’t work like that though. If I can prevent what I see coming in any way then I can intervene. In this case the wheels of what’s to come have already been set in motion, they’ve actually been spinning for a long time. I can’t change it, and if I tell you then you’ll try to change it, which I can guarantee would make things worse. Though you might not believe me on that when alls said and done.

I’d probably tell you more than I’m going to anyway but the wankers that be put a limit on what I can say. Bloody tricky bit of mojo they used, everything they’ve tried on me before hasn’t worked, but they really don’ want me ‘buggerin up their plans’, so they’ve pulled out the big guns this time. ”





Giles looked at Buffy in concern. “Will Buffy be harmed in what’s to come?”





Buffy saw Spike hesitate ever so slightly before he shook his head, but Giles didn't, and let out a relieved sigh patting her hand warmly across the table.



Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. “Will Giles be harmed? Or my friends?”





Spike phrased his response too carefully for Buffy’s liking. “If things go like I’ve seen ‘em, then the red head, the whelpish lookin boy, that miss-i-am girl-“





“Willow, Xander and Cordellia?”





“Yeah them, an-and Giles, and your mum, they’ll be... ok. None of the people you love will be physically hurt.”





Buffy was reassured, especially by the mention of her mom, completely missing the fact that Spike had stuttered, and mentioned only the people she loved, and not vampires she had feelings for, or people she only cared about, not getting hurt, and while her loved ones physical health was somewhat assured their mental health had not been.



Spike was fighting an internal battle with himself over his honest, but in his eyes, not honest enough promise, but there was nothing he could do.





“Is it Drusilla?” Buffy asked.





Spike gave a non committal nod. “She’s got somethin’ up her sleeve, a few things actually. Well, she’s got more things up her sleeve then coherent thoughts in her head.” Spike’s lips twitched a bit as he added, “So she’s got about three things up her sleeve. I can’t tell you want they are, but I can give you hints.”





Giles made Spike wait whilst he got together some paper and a pen. Buffy smiled fondly at her ever organised watcher.





“Firstly, and most obviously, be bloody careful. She’s not only a daft bint but a sneaky one. I’ve got to be a bit vague with what I say, I can’t give you too much of an idea of things, times and so on, so what I say will be a bit mixed up, not in the right order, an probably won’t make much sense now.”





Spike thought for a moment. “It might be easier if I write it down m’self. I might be able to get away with sayin more if I write it, but I don’t know.”



Giles pushed the paper across to Spike, who spent the next fifteen minutes writing, cursing and apparently crossing out a lot.



When he was done he folded the paper in half. Giles held his hand out for it, but Spike didn’t give it to him. “I’m not going to be around while this plays out, there’s no part in it for me.”





Giles looked about to protest, and even Buffy wanted to argue, but Spike cut them both off. “I’ll be back, I can promise you that much. And I won’t be goin far, so if things change by other means i’ll be able to step in. But I don’t think they will.”





Spike gave them a small smile as he got gracefully to his feet. Giles immediately jumped up as well and Buffy, not wanting to appear even shorter then she already was, quickly followed their example.





Spike turned to Giles. “It was real good to meet you Rupes, an for once I’m bein sincere. Your doin a good job with her. When I get back we’ll have a proper chat about... things. I don’ usually make it a habit, befriendin’ watchers. As a matter of fact I’ve never made a friend of one, boring gits the lot of them, no offence, but I reckon you might be the exception”.



Giles had an earsplitting grin on his face, and shook Spikes had so vigorously Buffy feared it might come off (before she noticed the very interesting way Spikes biceps were flexing, and then she could have cared less if Giles kept it up all night)





Once Spike had finally managed to get his hand back he turned to Buffy.





“Look after yourself slayer. I know it’ll go against the grain but try and do what I say-“ he waved the folded paper. “I can only help you a bit, this is pretty much all on you. Things might get rough, but you’ll be ok. In the end you’ll be ok”.

He stroked Buffy’s fingers ever so slightly and she was pretty sure, despite Spike being an ass some times, that he was an ally she was very, very glad to have.



Spike handed her the folded paper and turned to leave, stopping by the door. “By the way, don’t mention my being here to peaches. He caught my scent at the school the other night, but he’s not sure he’s right, and he’s not supposed to know he is. Plus, it really wouldn’t go down all that well.”





Buffy remembered the first question she had asked Spike when he turned up at the library that night, she also remembered she’d never gotten an answer, so she asked again.





“How do you know Angel Spike?”





Spike flashed a grin so sexy Buffy was sure even Giles’ knees buckled a bit. “That, sweet slayer, is a story for another time. A time when there’s a hot chocolate with the itty bitty marshmellows available.” Spike chuckled and sauntered out into the darkness of the hallway. A second later he was gone.



Buffy and Giles didn’t say a word as she unfolded the list.

The first half of the page was illegible scribbles. There was also a crude, but recognisable drawing of an extremely large foreheaded vampire, wearing a brooding expression, with a speech bubble coming out of its mouth which said ‘Wouldn’t you be miserable if you had my hair?’ Buffy ignored that, as well as Giles’ very audible snicker.



Underneath it, in a surprisingly elegant, flowing script Spike had written ‘Bloody hell, can’t even write what I want to now. Wankers!’ (Wankers had been heavily underlined) ‘Had to be a bit cryptic, and I sodding well hate that, but it’ll help. I think’





‘1. Organs make surprisingly effective weapons.



2. Organised people back up computer files. Look in places you wouldn’t expect.



3. What’s unleashed can be contained again, use the witch.



4. Don’t forget lessons learned at Halloween (the whelp might actually prove useful here)



5. Things spoken in the harsh light of day aren’t always true, trust in the words of the night.



6. A chain which is broken, even for a minute, must have a new link made.



7. Blood is everything.



8. No matter how dark the night becomes, dawn will always follow.



9. Right, I’ve had enough of tryin’ to be all lyrical, like a damn poet. I reckon I can be cryptic and not sound like a complete ponce.



10. While running away can be a good option, in this case (the case that hasn’t happened yet but will happen) it isn’t. Also, I’ve never much liked the name Anne.



11. Though it sounds pretty final, Hell isn’t always the end.



12. The man in the stupid hat is a pain in the arse but he knows what he’s talkin about.



13. Ghost’s really aren’t a myth. Ghosts= possessions. Possessions=not bloody good.



14. Tell your mum you’re the slayer. This doesn’t have to be cryptic cos it won’t affect the important stuff to come directly, but it will change what happens after. Tell her. Make sure you have a strong drink to hand (For her, NOT you) Visual aids might help. Or get Rupes to talk to her. Just make sure she’s calm. She might not be the most observant birdwatcher in the bush (no offense) but she’s your mum. If you have her to lean on it will make the future a lot easier to bare. She won’t put you back in the nut house. I’m 95% certain on that pet.



15. I won’t say good luck cos you make your own damn luck. Follow your blood, it won’t steer you wrong. (Unless you’ve been possessed by a ghost)



Spike.





Giles turned to Buffy with his eyebrows raised. He polished his glasses carefully and read the list again. His eyebrows were still raised. “What the bloody hell does that lot mean?”





Buffy shook her head. “I have no clue, but I’m pretty sure were gonna find out.”

Buffy was tired. She was beyond tired. After Spikes departure Giles had kept her at the library until night had well and truly fallen. They had poured over the cryptic list of clues until the words had started to blur into a seething mass of shapes, and they still didn’t have a clue about what they meant.



In the end Giles grew tired of Buffy’s alternate yawns and moans and offered to drive her home.



Buffy smirked, “No offence Giles but I’d probably get home quicker walking”.



Giles had huffed but couldn’t disagree. “Buffy, I wouldn’t patrol tonight, not alone. Until we know more about Drusilla’s location and the amount of minions she has under her control it’s just too risky. If uh, Angel, wanted to patrol with you, um, that might be alright.”



Buffy smiled. Giles was still uncomfortable about Angels’ presence in her life, but he was trying to be okay with it.



“Actually Giles, I’m kinda beat, think I might just head home. Moms out of town for a couple of days so I’m gonna make the most of having control of the TV.”



Giles became animated, “Oh, well, there’s a very interesting sounding documentary on the discovery channel tonight about species of reptiles indigenous to South America...” Giles caught sight of Buffy’s expression and deflated. “Or not”.



Buffy gave him a wry grin. “That’s a definite not, Buffy and documentaries are unmixy things.”



Giles sighed. “I thought as much. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate on it myself, I still can’t believe I’ve met William the Bloody! There are some people on the council I’d love to rub this in the face of!”



Giles looked so ridiculously proud and happy that, as annoying as Spike was proving to be, and as useless as she thought his ‘helpful list’ sounded, Buffy was glad he had come.



“Night Giles, If any mentally challenged homicidal vampresses come knocking I’ll give you a call.”





Giles was so giddy he actually rolled his eyes. “Goodnight Buffy”.





Buffy reached the driveway to her house without incident and was about to go on in when she felt the tinglies. Very particular tinglies. Spike type tinglies.





Her initial feeling was excitement. He hadn’t gone! Not that she cared whether he was around of course. Really. But she could ask him about his dumb list of supposed ‘help’. And stare a bit at his face. In a very non obvious way.





Then she realised her bedroom light was on. Spike was in her house. Her house. What the hell was he doing in her house? What the hell was he doing in her room!





Excitement gave way to anger. Buffy saw red. She very nearly kicked her own front door in, managing to hold back with difficulty. She barrelled up the stairs and got to her room, where she was halted in her tracks by the sight in front of her.



Spike was sprawled out on her bed as though he owned the place. He hadn’t bothered to take his boots off but his duster had been thrown casually on the floor. He had Mr Gordo on his lap and was stroking him absentmindedly while reading a book. The sight of him petting her stuffed pig was so very odd Buffy almost didn’t notice how very nice he looked in his tight tee. Almost. He hadn’t even looked up yet, which, considering the noise Buffy had made coming up the stairs, was weird. He seemed very absorbed in his book. Her book. Oh. Dear. God. HER DIARY. HE WAS READING HER DIARY.





Buffy screamed and launched herself across the room. She didn’t see Spikes smirk as she landed on top of him and threw the book out of his hands.





“Aw, It was just getting interesting!”





Buffy was burning with rage and embarrassment. She drew back her fist and swung it at his stupid sexy annoying face with all her strength.



Spike caught her fist with ease and held it. Buffy’s breath caught as his eyebrow rose and he bit down on his full bottom lip. He dragged his gaze across Buffy’s length, his eyes lingering at the point where their bodies were touching. “Well, this is getting interesting too.”



Buffy suddenly realised she was straddling him and jumped away so violently she lost her footing and fell on the floor.



Spike chuckled as he looked at her tangle of limbs. “You looked more comfortable where you were pet.”



Buffy got to her feet. She was shaking with anger. Anger and something else she wasn’t quite sure about.



Her voice was low and menacing as she said “What the hell are you doing here?”



Spike’s eyes widened in mock surprise and he said slowly, as though speaking to a very stupid child, “Well, right now I’m lying on your bed. Before you threw yourself at me, I was reading an interesting book about a slightly whiny teenage girl, finding out about her life, her massive foreheaded loves... that sorta thing.”





Buffy went to punch him again, using all her slayer speed and strength. She wasn’t quick enough. Spike was suddenly no longer on the bed, Buffy succeeded only in creating a cracked headboard and a very dented pillow.

She whirled around and Spike was leaning against the wall, his head tilted to one side. “Now now pet, that’s not playing nice”



Buffy swung another punch, and again, he caught it with ease. This time he released her straight away. In the blink of an eye he was gone. She felt his breath tickle the back of her neck, heard him whisper “Catch me if you can slayer”, but in the second it took her to turn around he was gone again. She spun around, over and over, but she never caught a glimpse of him or heard him move.

She cried out in frustration and Spike was suddenly in front of her.



Buffy stomped her foot so hard the floor shook. “How are you doing that?!”





Spike chuckled. “You might have slayer speed pet but you don’t have a bloody thing on me. Now, I’ve come back to see you, completely ruining my earlier dramatic exit, for a reason. So why don’t we get down to it eh?”





She ignored the blatant innuendo. Spikes speed was beyond anything Buffy had witnessed in any other being, it enraged, frightened and thrilled her all at once. She knew trying to hit him again would be pointless, but she was tempted to try to anyway. If she hadn’t wanted so badly to find out why he’d invaded her space and risked a slaying she would have.



She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like you.”



Spike smirked. “I’d dispute that but we don’t have the time”.



“Why? Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight or something?” Buffy cringed at her very Xanderish joke.



“Maybe, I am a peach the rest of the time so who knows?”



Buffy sighed, slightly relieved that his joke was worse then hers, and flopped onto her bed. “Are you here to give me some less crypticy clues about whats coming up? Cos honestly, your list-not massively helpful.”





Spike shook his head. “I can’t tell you more then I have. I would if I could. Well, probably.”





“What are you here for then? Unlike you I’m not a half breed undead creature, so I need my sleep.”





Spike made as though to sit on the bed, but after seeing Buffy’s expression he pulled out her chair instead. “I just figured that seein as how I can’t really tell you what’s going to come I’d answer some of your questions about me before I swept off, in a dramatic (but not brooding manner), into the night. Only seemed fair that if your gonna trust what I say (and you should) that you know me a bit better”.





Buffy went to speak but Spike cut her off. “I won’t answer any questions about Peaches, not yet, so don’t even ask. You can ask me pretty much anything else though.” He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and went to light it, but this time Buffy was quicker, catching it and throwing it out the open window.



“Okayyyyyyy then, I’ll wave my judgement over how much of an ass you are until we’re done. Though I’m pretty sure you’re a major ass by the way. So, how did you get in here?”



Spike looked expressively at the window. “For a slayer of demons and vamps you’re not very security conscious.”



“No, I meant how did you get in without an invitation?”



“I don’t need one” Spike sounded smug. “One of the perks of only being a ‘half breed’, no barriers. I could walk in here any time I wanted...”



“You just try it”. Buffy had acquired a stake from somewhere and was twirling it in a somewhat menacing manner. Spike wisely kept his mouth shut for once. “



“So how'd you do that super speed thing?"

"Well I'm half vampire and half slayer, It seems that I got their combined strength and speed. lucky me."



Buffy almost wished she was half vampire, she would love to be able to move like that. "So you’re ok to go out in the sunlight and stuff?” This was that part that had really intrigued Buffy. She often thought about Angel not being able to go out in the sunlight and how much it majorly, majorly sucked.



“Well I can trot about like a merry thing for a couple of hours, as long as it’s not mid-day or anythin. I start to get a bit Kentucky fried if I’m out too long. Won’t be goin sunbathin anytime soon, but walking around in the day generally is a can do.”



“Oh. What about Holy water and crosses?”



“They tickle a bit” He leered, “But in a good way”.



Buffy glared. “You’re a pig”.



Spike shook his head and picked up Mr Gordo with his weird superhuman speed. “No. This-pig. Me-Spike. Don’t worry pet, we’ll get there.”





Buffy glared and threw her alarm clock at him. He caught it with a wink which Buffy ignored.

“So, this whole seeing the future thingy then, how does that work?”



“I see the future.”



Buffy almost growled. “I KNOW that, I meant like, how far ahead can you see and stuff? Do you see it in black and white or full technicolour?”



Spike scratched his chin. “That’s actually a bit odd now that you mention it. Before... before you came along, and messed up my soddin life I mean, I never saw that far ahead. I usually saw things just in the nic of time, only hours before, a week at the most. Now, with you, I can see what’s gonna happen in a few months time. Its bloody odd. Probably somethin to do with the wankers that be, somethin I have to ask them about at some point. An I might be a half breed, but I’m not a dog, I see in colour thank you very much.”



Buffy suddenly went quiet. When she spoke again her voice was quiet.



“Spike... is everything you see, in my future I mean, is it all... bad?”



Spike looked as though he was about to give a smart ass retort so he surprised her when he said quite gently, “No Buffy, it’s not all goin to be bad.”



Buffy gave a small smile. “Thank you Spike. So... was everything Giles told me about your... your parents true?”



Spike squirmed and looked a bit uncomfortable. “I didn’t hear everythin he said, but what I did, and what the watchers usually say, yeah that’s true.”



Spikes expression made Buffy wish she’d never asked. He stood up abruptly and scratched his head. Some of his hair came loose of the gel and sprung up in curls Buffy thought were pretty damn cute.



“Is there anythin else you wanted to know?”



“Yeah... I know you said I couldn’t ask about peac-Angel and how you know him, but I was wondering... I mean, can you see... do you know... if he cares about me?”



Spike seemed to be struggling with himself for a minute. When he did reply it was obviously not what he wanted to say. “Yeah Slayer, he cares about you. He cares about you a lot more then you realise. But he’ll show you, soon, how much you mean to him. Your... your his unlife” He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Stupid git" but Buffy didn't care.



She felt a happy little glow of warmth in her chest. Maybe Spike wasn’t such an ass after all. “So, where are you going now?”



Spike looked distant for a moment, and Buffy realised that he wore that expression when he was seeing something beyond the present moment, when he was having a vision. He blinked and answered her question as though he had been with her the whole time. “I won’t be goin far, but I’m needed elsewhere at the mo.”



“Oh”. Buffy felt a pang of something suspiciously like jealousy. He was supposed to be her saviour wasn’t he? “So when will you be back?”



Spike looked at her through lowered eyelashes, “When you need me slayer, when you need me.”



He grabbed his duster off the floor. “Look, you’re tired pet, we’ll talk more when I’m back. Until then try and keep that perky lil ass of yours safe ok?”



Buffy surprised herself by not feeling disgusted by this comment, Spike’s bizarre attitude was growing on her quicker then expected. Before she’d thought about it she replied “You too”.



Spike grinned at her and winked. He climbed onto the window sill, gave her one last nod and then jumped. By the time Buffy got to the window he was out of sight.



***

Angel had started to fill Buffy’s heart, but unbeknown to her a section had been roped off that night, a section which would never belong to him.

The weeks passed and some of Spikes list began to make sense.







After being suspiciously quiet for some time Drusilla returned on the scene with a vengeance. Buffy had two very near misses with her, and she began to understand just why Giles had been so perturbed by her arrival. Then the organ incident happened. That had been particularly satisfying for Buffy, though she liked to think she would have thought of using the organ as a weapon against Drusilla even without Spike’s hint. Crushing her had been almost fun, especially considering the odd ramblings Buffy had had to listen to in the lead up to the smack down.







“Ooo naughty slayer, I see inside your head I do, and you think you have what’s mine. I won’t let you have what’s mine. Miss Edith would never allow it. You think daddy is yours now, but he’s not. The stars have been talking over their tea and you will give daddy back to me, without even knowing that you are” Drusilla had laughed very creepily at this, Buffy still got shivers when she thought of it after, but she wasn’t done.







“You think you have all the cake but you can’t have it. My boy, my little prince, he’s come to you; he thinks he can save you, but he was mine before you even started to shimmer. He’s mine forever, just like Daddy. He comes from darkness and he belongs in darkness, no matter how often he tries to play in the light. One day my boy will come back to me, and when he does you will burn.”







By this point Buffy had had enough, the fight that followed had been short and swift and Drusilla had been taken out.



Buffy had hoped, though not really believed, that that was it for Drusilla. She knew she was wrong about this when she had come home that night to find Spike in her bedroom again.







He was sat on the windowsill, leaning back against the ledge and looking almost serene as he watched the night outside. Buffy quickly noticed that her room smelt of cigarette smoke and her worries about Drusilla were momentarily forgotten.







“SPIKE! Have you been smoking in my room??”







Spike threw her the most innocent, and the most clearly put on look. “No.”







Buffy stomped over to the window and leaned out over him to see, sure enough, several white cigarette ends on the ground below.







She swatted his arm. “You can’t smoke in my room!”







Spike grinned. “Technically I’m only half in your room pet.”







Buffy glowered. “That’s not the point! If my mom walks in and smells that she’ll go... Oh God, mom! Why didn’t she hear me yell and run in here?? Why am I still yelling?!”











Spike swung his legs over the sill and stood up. “Calm down pet, your mum won’t be able to hear anythin we say. I spelled the room; sound proofed it so to speak.”











Buffy looked at him a little disbelievingly. “You do magic?”











Spike muttered something that sounded like 'muffincheese' to Buffy, and the smell of cigarette smoke was abruptly gone, replaced with the delicious sent of vanilla. “Got my fingers in a lot of pies slayer, it pays to be prepared for anything.”











Buffy was pretty impressed, but also pretty annoyed. Was there anything Spike couldn’t do?







She flopped down on her bed, and didn’t utter a protest when Spike sat beside her. “What are you doing here anyway? Killing me off from passive smoking aside I mean. I thought you wouldn’t be around for a while.”











Spike waved a hand “I don’ really think of this as bein around, just poppin in from time to time, makin sure your heads still attached an all.” He grinned suddenly, “You have a good music lesson then pet?”











Buffy looked at him blankly for a minute before she got what he meant, “Oh! The organ, yeah that worked like a charm!”







Spikes smile faded a bit and his eyes darkened. “You know that’s not the end of her though, don’t you? It’ll keep her down for a bit, sure, but Dru will be back.”







Buffy groaned. “I thought as much. Though hopefully I knocked some of the crazy out of her, I don’t think I can take another round of rambling nuttiness.”







“I think it would take more than an organ hittin her on the noggin to put the monkeys back in that tree pet.”







Buffy smiled. “You say some really odd things you know.”







“Profound luv, not odd.”







Buffy rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So, how long are you back for?” she didn’t want to say aloud that she hoped it was for a while, though her tone implied it. It was weird; things were going well for Buffy at the moment, Drusilla and Principle Snyder aside. Things with Angel were progressing very nicely, they had even shared an AMAZING kiss, Xander and Willow were happy, and Giles and Miss Calendar were cute beyond words (in a disturbing, parent substitute getting it on with your teacher kinda way). But even though things were so good Buffy constantly carried around with her an unsettling feeling of unease, as though not everything was right.



When Spike was around the feeling went away. It wasn’t just that he made her feel safe, it was something more than that, but it wasn’t something she was able to explain.







“This is just a flyin visit”







Buffy’s face fell a little so Spike added “I reckon I’ll be flyin in a bit oftener then I thought though, you know, til all this is over. An I thought that when it is I could maybe talk to Rupes about doin a few trainin sessions with you. What d’you think pet?”







Buffy brightened instantly. Training with Giles was fun and all, but she had a very strong feeling that training with Spike would be something else entirely. She loved the way he moved, so graceful and feline, and yet exuding such power. She desperately wanted to move like that.



“Yeah, I'm pretty sure that would be ok. I think me being trained by the Saviour of Slayers would make Giles lifetime. He’s still going on about your last visit, and I’m sure the dozen bottles of scotch he’s suddenly collected are due to him hoping you’ll pop by again.”







Spike’s lip twitched. “Alright then, we’ll sort summat out further down the line. Have you told your friends about me slayer?”







That question came a bit out of the blue, and Buffy wasn't sure how to answer. “Uh, no. Well, I told Willow and Xander, but no one else.”







Spike nodded as though he’d already known what she’d say. “It’s alright that they know, but it’s still best if Peaches doesn’t. I know that it’ll be hard to keep secrets from him, specially when you two are gettin... close... an all, but it’s necessary. Ok?”







Buffy had blushed a bit at the reminder that she and Angel were now ‘close’, but she was quick to assure Spike that Angel wouldn’t find out about him being around from her. She was still burning with curiosity about how the two vampires in her life knew each other, but she knew better then to ask Spike. Since he was too quick for her to beat it out of him she’d have to wait until he was ready to tell her on his own.







“So what did red and the whelp think when you told them about me?”







Buffy was confused for a moment. “Who?”







“You know, your pals. Red, cos of the hair, and the whelp, because... well cos he looks like a whelp.”







Buffy tried not to smile because Spike might have taken that as an agreement. Which it wasn’t. Really.



“Well Willow thinks it’s really exciting, she went into mega research mode, tried to find out anything about you which Giles hadn’t known.”











Spike looked almost concerned for a second. “An did she find anythin?”







Buffy noticed Spikes sudden change of tone, and studied him closely as she said “No, she didn’t.”







The change was only very slight, but Buffy saw it. He was relieved. She wondered how many secrets Spike was hiding, and whether she would ever know them all.







“She’s also been helping Giles with your list, trying to figure out what you meant by stuff. But they’re not having much luck with that either. I’m not surprised, it is like the vaguest of the vague.”







Spike was smirking again. “Sorry about that pet, but I did warn you. If you wanna take it up with the powers that bloody be, be my guest. What did the whelp think?”







Buffy grinned wickedly. “He thinks you sound like a cheesy super hero. He asked me if you wear a cape, or wear underwear over your pants.”







Spikes returning grin was equally wicked as he replied “You can tell the whelp that I don’t wear underwear at all.”







Buffy went radioactive red. “God Spike, over share much!”







Spike chuckled. “Sorry pet, have I filled your little head with too many pleasant images?”







Buffy pushed him hard and he started falling off the bed. At the last minute he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him.







Afterwards Buffy couldn’t remember who started it, but the tickling match that began the minute they hit the floor was merciless and hilarious. Whenever Buffy thought about it in the days that followed it never failed to make her smile.







The sky was beginning to lighten before Spike decided it was time to go. Buffy wanted to make him stay, to talk some more, but she knew she needed at least one hour of sleep before school.







As Spike went to do his, now customary, jumping out of the window bit he said, “I wasn’t kidding you know, when I said you should tell your mom. You should, and sooner rather than later.”











Buffy rolled her eyes whilst yawning, something she hadn’t realised it was actually possible to do.



“I will”







Spike gave a snort of disbelief.







“I will! Just... when I’m ready.”







Spike looked at her with a slightly softened gaze. His eyes looked warm, despite them being such a brilliant blue in the early morning light. “You’re the slayer pet. You haven’t got time to get ready anymore, you’ve got to be ready. For anything.”







Buffy couldn’t think of anything to say to that so she settled for putting on a disparaging voice and saying “We do have a door you know.”







Spike flashed her one last grin. “I know, but this way is just more fun”.







With that he jumped, and before it seemed even possible for him to have hit the ground he was gone.















That night Buffy had a very strange dream. It started out as many of her dreams had been starting lately, with her being held in Angel’s arms. But this time the picture changed and it was no longer Buffy Angel was holding so tightly on to, but Drusilla.







Drusilla was laughing manically and Angel’s eyes had changed from deep brown to an intense and terrifying gold.



He slid suddenly into game face, and Drusilla followed suit.



The scene changed again, and Drusilla and Angel now had their arms around a central figure. Their expressions were feral, protective, as though they were guarding the man who stood between them, or preventing him from leaving.







In her dream Buffy looked closer and what she’d taken for a man was not a man at all, but a vampire. He too was in game face, though it was a game face unlike any she had seen before. The fangs were there, sharp and deadly, but his forehead did not have the bumpies she would have expected, there was only a slight ridge above his nose. His eyes too were different, not gold, but a shining, almost luminously bright blue silver.







In her dream she saw them, the three of them on one side, and her on the other. She knew without knowing how that they were going to fight to the death. What she didn’t understand at all was why. Drusilla laughed again, and called out in a haunting melody. “I got them back little slayer, just like I said I would. Daddy and my prince have come home at last. No one can stop us slayer, not the moon or the stars or the nasty sun that burns. No one can stop us slayer, not even you.”











Buffy woke abruptly. She was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. She knew she had dreamt of something, and it had scared her witless, but she couldn’t remember her dream at all.

The weeks passed quickly after that, and the ticks next to Spikes sadistic shopping list grew. He turned up a few days after Kendra made her appearance, and Buffy’s world had been, once again, thrown in a hole.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about there being another slayer, that she was no longer the only one, the only chosen one. The burden of fighting the darkness was no longer just hers to shoulder. And Kendra was made for her calling, she lived it, breathed it. It was a relief, it was. She had even been thinking that maybe she could give up slaying, leave it to Kendra, have a normal life full of normal things. And yet...

She was musing on her very confused feelings out on patrol one night when Spike decided to jump out of a freshly dug grave yelling ‘Surprise!'

He seemed to find her reaction, almost having a heart attack, really amusing. She pushed down the urge to beat him to a pulp, or try anyway, but still failed to see the funny side.

She also failed to notice the decided fluttering in her chest that had nothing to do with shock, but everything to do with seeing him again.

They talked that night; they talked more than they ever had before. Spike was, for once, in a serious mood and kept his innuendos to a minimum. Buffy told him exactly how she felt. Things came out she hadn’t even realised she’d been feeling, things she wouldn’t have shared with her best friends.

Spike listened to all of it, without judgement or question or surprise. He just listened, and looked at her with those eyes which seemed to see so much more than her own.

When she had run out of steam Spike asked, “D’you think you could? D’you think that after everythin you’ve seen, everythin you’ve done, that you could ever be normal?”

Buffy didn’t know how to reply, so she didn’t, and Spike continued. “You’re not normal pet, you won’t ever be normal. You’re so much more than normal. I think, deep down, you know that normal would never be enough for you. You have a purpose, a reason for being, that other people will never have. You’re the slayer.”

Buffy pouted at the notion that she wasn’t normal, but was secretly thrilled with his comment that she was ‘so much more’ then normal. “I’m not the slayer anymore though am I? I’m one slayer. Kendra’s a slayer too."

Spike lit another cigarette but didn’t reply. He was staring off into space and Buffy got the feeling that he was seeing something she couldn’t yet again. She decided to voice the main concern she’d had since Kendra had shown up. She tried not to sound stroppy as she asked, “So, I guess you’re Kendra’s saviour too then? Seeing that were both slayers and all. You’ll be helping her out, getting to know her...”

Spike shrugged. “Haven’t met her yet.”

Buffy was shocked, she’d been sure that Spike would have been annoying Kendra with his annoyingly hot self from the minute he’d found out about her. She was stupidly relieved that they weren’t already bosom buddies.

“How come?”

Spike seemed to be avoiding her eyes. “You’re my slayer pet.”

Buffy stopped dead at his words. She felt the shock of an almost electrical force run through her. It felt good to have him say stuff like that. Too good.

Spike shot her a rueful grin. “Anyhow, got a feeling I’ll have my hands full lookin after you, don’t reckon I’ll have the time to run about after another slayer an all."

Buffy actually giggled, and swatted his arm. “So you don’t see any big dramas in her future that will require a knight in leather duster?”

Spikes smile had dropped right away, and he got all twitchy.

“Spike? Spike what is it?”

“I’d better go pet; captain forehead’s plannin on surprisin you, all romantic like. He’ll be here any minute an if he sees you’ve been hanging out with my hunky self he might actually express some kinda emotion. His face would crack from the strain... it’d get bloody messy.”

Buffy grabbed him to prevent his customary swaggering off. “Spike? What aren’t you telling me? Is it about Kendra?”

Spike didn’t say a word, but squeezed her hand gently before running, or more accurately, disappearing, into the night.

Angel had shown up minutes later and Buffy immediately, practically almost, kinda, forgot that she had seen Spike at all.

Things with Angel were going so well. They hadn’t said the L-word yet, but she knew he felt it. He had to feel it, because she felt it too.
***





Then they said it. The L-word. On a night so alternately awful and beautiful that it would forever be seared into Buffy’s mind, she and Angel loved each other, in every meaning of the word.

It was amazing. It was perfect. It was her dream. It was her nightmare.

The morning was a hellish whirl of destruction. Buffy didn’t think it could be possible that, after being so close to somebody, so close that bodies and souls were joined, she could feel so totally, utterly alone. She went to bed with Angel. She woke up with someone she didn’t know.

Angelus. She didn’t know it was him at the time, she thought it was her Angel saying those things, making her feel so small, so worthless.

She was hurt. Hurt didn’t even cut it. She was broken.

Then Miss Calendar had come clean, and Buffy knew that Angel had lost his soul. Because of her. Because of her one of the most ruthless and sadistic vampires of all time was loose once more. The itty bitty pieces she had broken into were pulverised into dust.

She wanted her mom. She knew she could talk to her mom about the fact that she and her boyfriend had broken up. Her mom would listen, her mom would care and sympathise and think she understood. But her mom would never know.

She and Angel had been predestined. Meant to be. She was his and he was hers and now it was over. It was worse than over. It was like it had never been. The man she loved, the man who had loved her, was gone, leaving behind only a monster.

For days she had hoped that Spike would come, would take the hurt away and tell her why, why this had happened. Only he could see what would happen next, whether things would ever get better. She needed to know. She had to know.

Spike never came. She complained bitterly to herself that he always seemed to be around when he wasn’t wanted, and now that she was crying out for him she got nothing. Every time she smelt cigarette smoke, or saw a flash of black, her poor abused heart would leap, only to be disappointed every time. She didn’t question why she needed to see Spike so much, she didn’t have the energy.


Things didn’t get better. It was quickly apparent that Angelus and Drusilla had united. Terrifying threats and a mass increase in dead and missing people had all the scoobies on edge. Whilst Buffy knew that they had to be stopped she didn’t know how to stop them, or even if she could.

Buffy needed her mom. Spike was right. Her mom should know she was the slayer. She would panic, and worry and do all the other things moms do but she needed to know what her life was like. Her mom needed to know. Until she did they could never be there for each other in the way a mother and daughter should.

Then the very worst happened. Miss Calendar. Miss Calendar was killed. Giles was plunged into his own personal hell, and no one knew quite what to say or do to help him. The guilt Buffy felt was overwhelming, if she’d tried, really tried, to seek out Drusilla and Angelus, she could have found them. If she had really tried she might have been able to stop them. But she didn’t really try. The thought of stopping Angelus, of killing Angel... she couldn’t bare it. And because of her selfishness Jenny was dead, and Giles was now as lost as Buffy herself was.

Things got worse and worse after that.


After a particularly awful week, in which the ghost of a long dead, murderous ex Sunnydale High student decided it was time for a good old fashioned haunting, Buffy needed a hug more than anything else in the world and she knew it was time to tell her mom the truth.

She had decided. She was resolved. She headed home, still freaked out over her latest, and perhaps worse, Angelus encounter. When they had been possessed they had been in love again. Desperately, passionately in love. And again it had ended in disaster.

Before she could dissolve into a pulpy mess of tears she braced herself for the next wild dip in her ever moving emotional rollercoaster. Buffy opened the front door and prepared to face the most intimidating force the world could provide; her mother.

Before she had even stepped fully through the front door her mom was upon her. Rather than an angry tirade about Buffy missing dinner yet again, she threw her arms around her in a surprising, but incredibly welcome, way.

“Oh honey, I’m so glad your home safe. I kept dinner back so we could eat together.” She smiled at Buffy and stroked her cheek before noticing her shocked expression.

“Oh no, no one got hurt did they? Willow, or Xander or Mr Giles?” Buffy could only shake her head dumbly. Joyce lowered her voice “You did sort out the problem at the school didn’t you?”

Buffy opened and closed her mouth several times before her shock level rocketed still further by the appearance of Spike, who was very much in her hallway, talking to her mom as though they were old friends.

“Joyce, I know I’m a cheeky bugger but is there any chance of one of your hot chocolates?”

Joyce squeezed Buffy’s hand before turning to Spike with an indulgent look on her face. “Of course, I’m sure Buffy could do with one too. I just bought in a new pack of those little marshmallows you like.”

Spike suddenly looked as excited as a schoolboy. He actually bounced on his heels a bit.

Joyce went off to the kitchen, but before Buffy could round on Spike in the way she fully intended to he pressed a hand against her mouth, which silenced her completely.

His hand was cold, not as cold as Angels had been (she pushed the painful remembrance of his touch away) but still icey. It was an icey touch that seemed to burn, a cold fire. For the first time in a long time Buffy could feel her heart and it was racing.

Spike winked at her and muttered a word Buffy could never have pronounced, let alone understood, and the air suddenly felt very thick and strange. Spike took his hand away. She felt empty at the sudden loss of contact, and then felt stupid for it.

“Before you get your knickers in a twist slayer let me have my say alright?”

“Spike what the hell is going on? And what did you just do?!” Buffy’s voice came out in an odd high pitched hiss, her very much confused-and-annoyed-that-she-was-confused voice.

Spike sighed. “If you’ll shut your trap for a second I’ll tell you. I just slowed down time for a bit, so we could have a chance to chit chat while your mum’s out the room.”

“You slowed down time?” If it was possible Buffy felt even more confused.

Spike waved his hand as if it was no big deal. “Just made it so a second for us is an hour for everyone else. It’s nothin. But I can’t do it for long so I’m going to talk without you interruptin every five seconds.”

Before Buffy could give any kind of reply Spike barrelled on. “I knew you’d come to see that I, as usual, was right and that your mum needed to know about you bein the slayer an all, an I knew that you were dreadin the conversation you’d have to have an all the explainin you’d have to do, so I thought I’d make it easier on you. I came round earlier an had a lil chat with your mum...”

Buffy’s eyes were majorly narrowed. “What kinda ‘lil chat’? And how did you get her to let you in?”

Spike grinned. “Your mums a nice lady pet but she sure ain’t the shiniest trinket in the jewellery box. Told her I was a friend of yours an she let me right on in. Any who, I did a little... memory augmentation spell. Now she knows you’re the slayer, but she thinks she knew right from the start.”

“YOU DID A SPELL ON MY MOM?”

“Quiet down you stupid bint! Time might be movin slowly but you can still shatter a mans ear drums. It was a simple spell, nothin to it. And it won’t cause no harm whatsoever to your mum. She’s right as rain, and while not exactly doin cartwheels about the whole slayer situation she’s come to terms with it. Well, her memories now tell her she has.”

Buffy breathed heavily. It was a lot to take in. Her mom knew she was the slayer. Her mom knew and they were still talking, still close. There would be no more having to sneak out or lying through her teeth all the time. Everything was out in the open. She knew she should thank Spike, he’d done her a massive favour after all, but she had a few questions for him before he got any sort of praise.

“My mom was acting as though she knew you well, who does she think you are?”

“As far as she’s concerned I’m another watcher of sorts, though obviously younger and better lookin then Giles. I come round now and again, have a hot chocolate with her and a chat about you.” Spike looked both proud and smug. “She likes me”.

Buffy laughed, “Only because you made her think she does!”

Spike shook his head, “No, I can’t change her opinions of people, just alter how she knows them. She would have got to know me eventually, how she sees me now is how she would have seen me anyway. Same goes with her reaction about you bein the slayer. Sure she might have been a bit ga ga about it at first but she would of gotten used to it and been as supportive as she’s goin to be now.”

Buffy was about to ask her next question but Spike beat her to it. “I’m sorry about Miss Calendar pet. I knew it was goin to happen, but believe me when I say I couldn’t have done anythin about it. Ditto Angel bein all soul losing. I knew those things were goin to happen but I didn’t know when or how. An I knew that they had to happen, an would happen whatever. They were two things that were set.”

Buffy swallowed a sudden lump in her throat and nodded through bleary eyes. She’d known deep down that Spike would have stopped those awful things from happening if he could have, but it was good to hear him say it, that nothing could have been done. It wasn’t completely her fault.

As though reading her mind Spike said, “Wasn’t your fault pet, none of it. Nor what’s coming.”

Buffy found her voice after a struggle. “What’s coming Spike?”

Spike just gave her a small smile and whispered that unpronounceable word again. The air seemed to lighten instantly and time was restored. Spike went to the kitchen, with Buffy hot on his heels.

There then followed Buffy’s weirdest evening ever, which, considering her life was saying something. She drank hot chocolate with her mom and Spike. She talked shop, first wearily and then gladly. She tried, and failed, to stop Spike stealing all the mini marshmallows. They had dinner in front of the telly, and Spike and her mom tried to show her the joys of Passions. Buffy was laughing for the first time in what felt like forever, and little pieces of herself which had come adrift started to knit themselves back together.

Much later they left Joyce asleep on the couch and went to Buffy’s room. Spike looked at her with his head tilted to one side and his blue eyes full of something Buffy couldn’t name. It was all too much for her and she burst into tears. In less than a second Spike had her in his arms. He held her, their bodies fitting perfectly together, while she cried out all the pain and terror of the last few weeks.

When Buffy had got to the snuffly stage Spike said, “You about done there pet? I’m pretty bloody wet here.”

Buffy choked on her laugh and hit him on the chest. “I knew you being nice couldn’t last”.

Spike chuckled and the rumbling of his chest warmed Buffy through. “I’m the big bad baby, I don’t do nice.”

“You do with my mom!” Buffy adopted a pretty awful English accent “Oh Joyce no one makes hot chocolate like you! This meatloaf is the best I’ve ever had! Blah bloody blah!” Buffy dissolved into giggles. “Yep, you’re definitely the big bad!”

“Watch it slayer, part vamp here, very close to your neck...”

Buffy just laughed harder, and made no move to pull out of Spikes arms. She actually pulled him closer as she asked, “When will you be back again?”

“Sooner this time pet.” Spikes voice dropped a little, “We’re nearing the end of this particular funathon”

“I wish you could tell me how this is going to end.”

“I wish I knew pet. Some things are set, some things aren’t. At this point things could change. But don’t worry slayer, whatever happens I’ve got your back.”

Buffy wasn’t going to argue that she didn’t need anyone to watch her back, that she could take care of herself.

After everything that had happened it was odd but for once in her life she was glad she was the slayer. Because she was the slayer she got her very own saviour. She knew without question that Spike was the strongest ally she would ever have, and he would give his life for her in a second. Even though she would never let it come to that, it meant more to her than she could say.

He suddenly pulled away from her enough that he could see her face. “Slayer, how would you feel about some combat training?”

Buffy was surprised by the conversation turn but gave him a cheeky grin as she replied, “After how much you ate tonight I’d think you’d want a nap first."

He rolled his eyes. “Funny luv. I thought we could maybe meet up a couple of times a week, go over the basics, perhaps work in some more advanced weapon trainin, the sword and that.”

Buffy was, though she never would have admitted it, too excited by the prospect of seeing Spike on a regular basis and training with him to realise that there was more to Spike's request then wanting to hang out with her.

Buffy closed her eyes against the suns harsh rays and enjoyed the feel of damp grass against her heated skin.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she was trying to make sense of the string of French words that had been thrown at her, but she wasn’t trying very hard.

“Slayer! Are you even bloody well listenin to me?”

Buffy turned her head to the side to see an exasperated Spike leaning on his elbow and staring at her with raised eyebrows. “I’m not lyin out here, riskin gettin a particularly deadly suntan, for the good of my health ya know.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose, “You’re in the shade Spike, you haven’t even started to freckle yet. Chill. And no one asked you to tutor me.”

Spikes mouth dropped open in indignation. “Well, that’s a load of crap slayer. Everyone asked me to tutor you, Willow most especially, and after seein what she’s had to deal with the last couple of years my respect for poor Red has rocketed. You’re not even tryin.”

Buffy glared at him. “Me and Willow made good progress actually. And she liked tutoring me. And she wasn’t a pain in the ass about it.” She ignored Spike’s snort and decided to show him what a good student she was by putting on her best French accent and trying to answer the question he’d posed.

Spike immediately cracked up, only trying to stifle his laugh when he saw Buffy’s hurt expression.

“What? You asked me if I’d like to go to the beach today and I said –"

“ ‘Yes, I’d love to stroke your pineapple, show me how’.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide as she reddened “No I didn’t!”

Spike grinned, “Yeah you did. And I’ll show you how later, but first I really think we should work on your French pet.”

Buffy punched him on the arm but smiled despite herself. She tried to be huffy as she plucked at the grass beside her.

“But it’s such a waste of the day. And French is a stupid language.”

“Try tellin the French that. Look luv, there are plenty of other things I’d rather be doin with you today” Spike bit his lip suggestively and Buffy tried her best not to blush again, “But you’re mom would really like you to get a passin grade in somethin this year, an seein as how I’m pretty damn perfect at French, and everythin else I might add, it seems like a good place to start yeah?”

Buffy sighed. “I get that mom wants me to do well at school, but seriously, what does it matter? Right now Angel – Angelus, and Drusilla are off somewhere planning who knows what. Something bad, something even worse than the hell that’s already happened, could be right around the corner, and I’m supposed to care about how you say ‘The beach is pretty” in French?”

Spike sat up properly and tilted his head to the side.

“You’re gonna get through this Buffy. And I don’t mean French class. Cos, unless your teachers a colossal perv, that’s not lookin too likely about now. You’re gonna be ok pet.”

Buffy frowned. “I know I am.”

Spike shook his head. “You know it, but you don’t believe it. I know school might seem like a waste of time at the moment, but this will all end. And when it does school will still be there, so, sorry luv, but you can’t get away with not learnin stuff.”

Buffy’s eyes were still lowered. She hated how Spike always saw past her crap and bluster and knew just exactly what was troubling her. He had a way of reading her which no one ever had. It meant she could never lie to him about anything, and she was used to putting on a brave face, to acting strong no matter how much she was falling apart inside. As much as it annoyed her though it was strangely comforting, to know there was someone in her life now who she could be completely honest with and know that they wouldn’t think any the less of her for it.

Spike took her hand, stopping her progress in pulling up the whole lawn. She couldn’t pretend to ignore the way the bottom of her stomach dropped out as he touched her, or the tingles that spread up and down her body. The time she had been spending with Spike lately had been becoming more and more important. It was like he’d taken part of her with him the moment they’d met, and she never really felt complete without him there to put it in place again. It was strange, to say the least, that even while the shadow of Angel hung threateningly over her, she could feel something for someone else. But what she was starting to realise she felt for Spike was so different to what she’d felt for Angel. She didn’t want to explore it though. Not yet at least. It scared the hell out of her, and right now she had enough going on without dragging her heart back into the ring.

Spike was stroking her hand in soothing, and highly distracting, circles. “Slayer, look at me.” Buffy reluctantly dragged her eyes up to meet his flawless blues. “You’re goin to be ok. Might not feel like it right now. Might not feel like it for a while. But you will be ok. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you know. Stronger than most people could ever dream of bein. An thats not cos you’re a slayer. It’s cos you’re you. Miss Buffy Anne Summers, holier than thou, riotous pain in my ass, girl-who-sucks-at-French. Buffy Summers, loyal friend, strong ally, lovin, courageous... beautiful. You’re a hell of a woman Buffy. Don’t ever forget that.”

The words Spike spoke, the way he looked at her as he said them, and the way her heart had hammered in her chest the whole time, were all things Buffy would never forget.
Beautiful. He had called her beautiful. And now her insides were all mushy and there seemed to be weird cherub things flying around inside her head...

“Now, stop hoggin all the cookies, and try and bloody well learn somethin! Comprende? “

Buffy shook herself from her Spike induced haze and smiled, “That’s Italian!”

Spike grinned, “It’s Spanish, but that’s close enough.”

Buffy groaned, and, predicting a long afternoon, settled herself back comfortably on the grass again.

Time was moving so slowly. A horrible drawn out nightmare that seemed to last for an eternity. Then it was all over.



A second made all the difference. One second and Buffy’s life was destroyed all over again. One second and he was no longer stood before her. In one second he was dragged to hell.



Buffy had been broken before. She had known pain, she had lived pain. She had never known anything like this. He was sucked into hell and it was as if the flames that took him had consumed her as well.









12 hours earlier.



Kendra was dead. Kendra was dead and Buffy hadn’t stopped it.



She hadn’t even been there. Drawn into another hideous fight with Angelus she hadn’t been there when Drusilla attacked. Now Kendra was dead, Willow was hospitalised and the police were after her.



Thank god for her mom. She had been so calm, so concerned and so comforting. It had helped that Spike was there too. Turning up, as always, out of the blue.





He knocked out the policeman who had come for Buffy with impeccable timing.

He seemed out of breath, even though he didn’t need to breathe.



He looked at her with wide and, were they panicked? eyes. “Kendra’s dead”. It wasn’t a question.





Buffy felt close to tears as she answered. “Yes. She’s dead.” She couldn’t keep the reproach from her voice as she asked, “Spike, why didn’t you help her? She’s a slayer. She... she was a slayer. Why didn’t you save her?”





Spike lit a cigarette and Buffy was sure his hands were shaking just a little. “I couldn’t. I didn’t know-I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t see. I hadn’t seen her, her future. Not once. I knew something was going to happen to her, I knew. But I couldn’t see, couldn’t stop it.”





Buffy felt her anger rise. “So what, she was supposed to die or something?”







“Yes.” Spike said it with conviction but Buffy could tell it pained him. “She was going to die whatever happened. It was set. She wasn’t meant to be the slayer for long.”







“I hate this. I hate this! If I had killed Angel before, if I’d done my duty, Kendra and Miss Calendar, they’d still be alive.”





Spike shook his head. “They wouldn’t have been. If you had killed Angel and Drusilla then they would have died some other way, it was prebloodydetermined pet.”





Buffy swallowed down her rage and hurt. “Well what do I do now? What do I do?”







Spike seemed suddenly to have his swagger back. “You do what you were made to do. You slay pet. We’ve got to go and tell your mum what’s happenin, the police have been by and she’s worried sick.”



Buffy didn’t bother to ask him how he knew this.



“Then you need to ring your mates. Evil captain forehead and the nutter have Giles, I know where they’re keeping him, but we’re goin to need the whelp to get him back. You’ll want to check on red too.”



Buffy nodded, she didn’t feel up to doing more than that.



She knew what she had to do, she had to kill Angel. But was she ready for that? She loved him. Even after everything the monster inside him had done she still loved him.

She knew the time for being ready had passed. It was a time for action now. But inside Angelus was her Angel.

She loved Angel.How could anyone kill the one they loved?



Buffy’s mom was amazing. Now more than ever Buffy was so glad Spike had made it that Joyce knew she was the slayer. She couldn’t imagine how difficult the situation would have been if her mother had been ignorant of it.



Joyce didn’t, for one second, think that Buffy had killed Kendra, as the police were claiming. She made tea and gave out hugs like they were going out of fashion.



Buffy called the hospital and had the relief of speaking to Willow. If Willow had died Buffy never would have forgiven herself. She arranged with Xander to meet her at the mansion as soon as possible before hanging up.





Spike was being uncharacteristically quiet. For the first time in the weeks since he had first become friendly with her mom and started hanging out at the Summer's home on a semi regular basis he wasn’t stuffing his face with mini marshmallows or trying to ‘secretly’ raid the drinks cabinet.

“Spike? Are you ok?”



He started when she said his name, "Yeah slayer, I'm fine. We'd better get moving. It's almost time."



Buffy said goodbye to her mom. Her mom hugged her and wouldn’t let her go. “Oh honey, I wish you could just not be the slayer sometimes. I hate doing this. Saying goodbye to you and not knowing... please honey, please be careful.”



Spike patted Joyce a little awkwardly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Joyce, she’ll come back to you.”



Joyce and Spike exchanged a long look, and seemed to be communicating silently. Buffy felt a surge of strength inside. She could do this. She had to. She had to come back, for her mom. And Spike would make sure she did.





Joyce watched them from the front door until they had disappeared into the darkness.







They hadn’t gone far before Spike turned to Buffy and said, “You need to stop by Giles apartment luv, there’s somethin you need there, and someone you need to see.”

Spike refused to elaborate anymore than that.


“I’m goin to go wait for the whelp at the mansion, keep him out of trouble til you get there.”








Buffy almost smiled. She was sure that under normal circumstances Spike wouldn’t have been at all concerned with keeping Xander out of trouble.


Xander and Spike had met a few times in the last couple of weeks, and none of their meetings had gone particularly well.





Xander had taken an instant dislike to him. Initially because of Buffy’s friendship with him, then other sources of irritation emerged; the way he commanded Giles’ respect, the way Willow was so impressed with his magical ability and the fact that even Oz seemed to enjoy his company, in his own inexpressive way. Then Cordelia had met him, and been immediately smitten. She had taken to wearing even shorter skirts than usual, and turned up to all Scooby meetings on the off chance he might be there.





Spike had noticed Xanders discomfort and flirted with Cordelia mercilessly just to get a rise, which had the unintended effect of annoying Buffy no end.








Their bitching and sniping helped to lighten the mood sometimes but Buffy felt like knocking their heads together more often than not. Giles actually had once, though he’d apologised to Spike profusely afterwards and often tended to secretly agree with his criticisms of Xander.








After Xander had broken into a military facility and acquired an impressive weapon for Buffy by impersonating a soldier Spike had started to call him GI Idiot, which, even though he called it a term of endearment, did not go down well.








“Make sure you keep him safe Spike, while I’m off visiting god knows who to get god knows what.”








Spike adopted a very concerned, and completely fake, expression. “I’ll try pet, I’ll try bloody hard. But he’s really quite dim. One day he’s gonna walk right onto my fangs... and there’s not much I can do about that”








Buffy’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.








Spike reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Buffy’s ear. Her skin tingled where his fingers had brushed it.





“Hey slayer, chin up ok? Everythin will be ok in the end, I’d bet my pert ass on it.”








Buffy nodded and returned his steady gaze with her own, she could see his confidence in her and it gave her new strength. She could do this. She had to.

















As soon as Buffy entered Giles’ dark and silent apartment she knew she wasn’t alone.





She sighed and said wearily “Who ever you are, I know you’re here. I’m tired, and I’ve got kinda important plans for tonight so can we get this over with?” There was silence for a horribly long time. Buffy had assumed that if whoever was here was a threat to her Spike would have given her a heads up. At least she hoped he would have... his jokes could be a little twisted sometimes...





“Buffy Summers I presume?”








To her annoyance Buffy jumped at the unexpected sound.








Out of one of the darkest recesses a man stepped forward. At least Buffy thought it was a man. He was short and plump, dressed in an old fashioned suit from which his too large body was attempting to escape. His features were so bland and indistinguishable Buffy began to feel that he might not be human at all. On his head an absurd hat perched somewhat precariously and did a poor job of disguising his very hairless head.








The overall impression was a creepy one but Buffy tried to


act as though he hadn’t unnerved her at all. “This is she. What can I do for you? Or, more accurately, why the hell are you here?”








He made a tutting sound. “Dear oh me oh my Miss Buffy, there’s no need to be rude! I know you have places to be dumpling but I’m here to help.”








Buffy had been called dumpling and she was not amused. As


far as she was aware dumplings were weird British balls of stodgy dough, she was fairly sure that being called one was not a compliment.





She crossed her arms and threw him a hard stare. “How exactly are you here to help? And more to the point, who are you?”








The man smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Well dear girl, my name is Tarot, and I’m your friendly representative of the Powers That Be. I must say, despite your inhospitable attitude I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. Originally you were going to be met by one of my associates, but then Young William decided to start playing his own game and, well it was decided that I would be a more appropriate messenger than Whistler. My good luck it would seem! Well well well, the slayer. What an honour!”








Buffy ignored the last part of his speech, she didn’t know who Whistler was and now it seemed she wouldn’t meet him anyway so she didn't much care. “What game is Spike playing? What do the Powers want?”








The man was watching her through heavy lidded eyes which seemed to be emitting their own kind of eerie light. When he laughed Buffy went instantly cold.








“Well to answer your first question, The Powers That Be would like to stop this impending apocalypse, which I think is rather jolly of them. This is for you, to help.” He pulled out an impressive looking sword, seemingly from thin air. “It won’t kill Angelus for you, but it will spill the blood you need.”








Buffy furrowed her brow. “The blood I need?”








Tarot’s smile broadened alarmingly. “Yes dear girl, if Angelus has opened the portal using his blood, only his blood will close it once again, and, of course, it takes more blood to close a demon portal then to open one, tricky little things as they are.”








He handed the sword to Buffy and she took it whilst trying to keep the maximum amount of distance between them. It was heavier then it looked, the blade long and broad. Buffy felt sick and her fear of what was coming began to slowly rise again. She would have to kill Angelus. Kill Angel. She couldn’t let herself think about it.








As though reading Buffy’s mind Tarot suddenly looked all sorrow, “Yes yes, sad business, terribly sad. Angel was to be such a fine champion! We had such plans for him....” he wiped a non existent tear from his eye, shook his head and brightened again “Oh well, no use being a melancholy Melanie, these things happen. Lets get on to the subject of Young William! Now he is a favourite of mine. I’ve always taken a special interest in him. He always does the unexpected! Such an annoying quality for one such as myself. I read people you see dear, it’s what I do.” He looked very proud of himself, his chest puffing up so much his buttons very nearly made a break for it. “Most people I can read in a heartbeat but William.... well he is a real hum dinger of a puzzle isn’t he!





And he does like to interfere. Sometimes we’re glad of his interference, it works in our favour, but sometimes he makes an unexpected move and it changes the whole game!” Tarot sighed. “Everything has to be worked out again... its a lot of paperwork. I won’t tell you what a tizzy his birth threw us in to! My, talk about unexpected!”








Buffy couldn’t deny being intrigued by what Tarot was saying, but she was well aware that every second she was stood in Giles’ apartment the more likely it was that Angelus and Drusilla had opened the portal. “Could you get to the point sometime soon? The Real Worlds on and I don’t want to miss it.”








Tarot’s eyes glowed brighter. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the humorous reference, but I will round up what I’m saying for you my dear. We thought we’d finally found a way of keeping young William in check, after all, if he can’t tell anyone what’s coming they can’t very well prevent it now can they? And he can’t do everything alone... We’ve tried blocking his visions before but they seem to be beyond our power to influence... which is odd. And now the wily wee lad has blocked his mind, and his sight, from The Powers! How he managed it we’re just dying to know. We don’t know what he may do, and we don’t like it. We don’t want him to mess with this order, not one bit.” Tarot smiled at Buffy like an indulgent, but horrifically creepy, grandfather. “Now dear little slayer, I’m sure you don’t want William chucking our whole plan in a puddle now do you?” He took Buffy’s lack of reply as an agreement. “Excellent. If you could just make sure that it is you who fights Angelus, and you who closes the portal, that would be just peachy.”








Buffy nodded without being completely sure of what she had agreed to or why she was agreeing with it. She felt compelled to nod, and so she did.








Tarot beamed at her. “Excellent! Now if I could just ask one teensy weensy personal favour of you, before you toddle of to save the world?”








Buffy shook her head which had felt suddenly foggy and eyed him suspiciously, “What kind of favour?”








Tarot reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a large deck of cards. He walked, with a slight woddle, over to Giles coffee table and placed the deck to one side of it.








“These are tarot cards dear girl, they are my main tools for reading people, they give me an insight into the people they are and how their future lies. If you would indulge me, I would like you to spread the cards, however you wish, and pick one for me.”











“Has Spike ever done this for you?” Buffy had no idea why she asked that question, it had just felt important that she should.








Tarot was clearly surprised by it. “Young William has done this for me, several times as a matter of fact.”








Buffy walked over to the cards. “If I pick one for you, you have to answer a question for me.”








Tarot visibly flinched, but answered calmly enough. “Of course.”








Buffy felt a little foolish, spreading the cards across the table, but she still didn’t stop until she felt they looked right.








She looked at Tarot and he nodded encouragingly, “You can close your eyes if you like dear, use your senses, pick the one which calls to you.“








Buffy didnt really get what he meant until she felt a sudden, strong pull towards a particular card. She picked it up with trepidation and her fingertips tingled at the contact. She didn’t turn it over though, not yet.








Tarot was raised up on the tips of his toes and leaning forward so much Buffy was convinced he’d topple over any second. She could see his fingers twitching, desperate to take the card from her.





She held it close to her chest. “Before I give you this you have to answer my question.”








Tarot swallowed noisily, “Yes yes dear, what did you want to know?”








Again, the question came to Buffy without her really thinking about it. “When Spike did this for you the first time, what card did he pick?”








Tarot’s eyes widened, but he answered after only a slight hesitance. He seemed puzzled by his own words as he said, “Actually, every time William has done this for me he's picked the same card. Another sign of his uniqueness undoubtedly!”








He didn’t continue so Buffy asked, “Which card was it?”





Tarot smiled in such a way that Buffy was genuinely scared of him for the first time.





“He picked number thirteen. Every time he’s drawn a card he’s picked number thirteen. Death.”








Buffy felt ice dancing down her spine. “What does that mean?”








Tarot shook his head, “I’ve answered your question, deals are deals dear. Let me see your card.”








Buffy’s usual argumentative instinct had vanished. With hands she couldn’t keep from shaking she turned over her card.








Tarot sucked in a sharp breath. “Well, how interesting.”








Buffy didn’t know what her card meant, or why it made Tarot so agitated. It certainly didn’t seem as bad as pulling the death card to her.








She handed it to Tarot. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”





“No no dear, off you go. It was a pleasure to meet you. I wish you good luck.”








Buffy mumbled some thanks and made a hasty exit.








Tarot had not looked at her when he had spoken, and he didn’t look at her as she left. His eyes remained riveted to the card in his hand.





Number 11. Justice.

Buffy arrived at the side street next to the mansion quicker than seemed possible. She also seemed to have arrived just in the nick of time. For some reason Xander was suspended in mid air and slowly revolving.

Buffy, who was still on edge after her meeting with Tarot, brought the sword before her and crouched low.



Then a waft of cigarette smoke passed by. She rose from her defensive position and swung round.

Spike was in shadow, leaning against a wall and lazily twirling his finger. “Alright pet?”



Mindful of fact they were supposed to be inconspicuous Buffy hissed rather than shouted, “Spike, what the hell?? I asked you to look after Xander!”



Spikes mouth twitched, he was very obviously trying not to smile. “And I am pet. GI Idiot here was picking fights with me over nothin, raisin his voice and what not. He was on the verge of bustin in there an tryin to rescue Giles himself”. Spike snorted, “Actually, that would have been funny to watch, maybe I should have let him go.”



Buffy crossed her arms and wore a very ‘not pleased’ expression. Xander was extremely red in the face, and he alternated between turning pleading eyes on Buffy and livid eyes on Spike. Spike had apparently done something to prevent Xander from speaking, which was probably a good thing, as it looked like he’d be yelling.





Buffy was feeling slightly on the verge of hysteria. She had the fight of her life looming before her, she didn’t have time for this. She felt defeated already as she said, “Spike, let him down. And Xander, can we just drop whatever happened, we’ve got more important things to worry about.”





Spike had the decency to look sheepish as he reversed what he’d done and Xander fell, quite heavily, to the floor. He scrambled to his feet and opened his mouth but one look at Buffy made him close it again.





Buffy turned to Xander, “I need you to get Giles and get him out. He might need to go to the hospital, I don’t know... they might have... I don’t know what state he’ll be in.”



Xander looked grave.



“He’s alive slayer, I can sense him. He’s in the basement, heartbeat slow but steady.”





Buffy nodded, not ready to be relieved yet. “Ok then, Spike I’ll need you to handle Drusilla. I’ll take on Angel-us.”





Spike scowled then nodded. “As much as I’d like to take on captain forehead myself I think you’re right.’





Buffy was surprised for a brief moment, she’d expected Spike to go alpha male on her and insist on fighting Angelus himself. He hadn’t said much, or anything really, about their past relationship but his dislike was obvious. She didn’t question him though, there wasn’t time. She could feel the forces of darkness beginning to press upon her.

Whatever ritual was needed to open the portal to hell had begun.





They walked as one from their hidden place and edged towards the mansion. Buffy was in the lead, but Spike was close behind her. Xander trailed a little further back, Buffy had demanded that if they were attacked unexpectedly Xander had to carry on with his mission regardless. No matter what else happened Giles had to be saved.





Buffy lowered her voice so only Spike would hear and said, “I met with Tarot”.





She felt Spike stiffen as he replied, “I figured you didn’t pluck that fancy sword from a flower bed on your way over. You were meant to be meetin Whistler. Wish you had. He’s alright, bit odd but alright.”



“And Tarot?”





Spike sounded off as he said, “Well, you’ve met him, he's hardly a bundle of kitteny joy".





“Yeah I have met him, and when all this is over you and I are going to have a talk about that.”



Spike made no comment.



They couldn't say more, they had arrived. As stealthily as possible they entered the hallway.



Spike indicated silently to Xander the way he needed to go, and that there were no minions that way. After only a moments hesitation he gave Buffy a weak smile and was gone.



Spike then pointed the way they needed to go and held up five fingers. There were five minions ahead. He had no sooner done this then the silence exploded into sound, and the minions were upon them.



Buffy and Spike dispatched two instantly. They had trained together several times now and knew how the other one fought. They worked together, a team of flashing fists and powerful kicks. Buffy wielded her sword with deadly accuracy, as Spike did his stake.

Killing them all took only moments. The air was thick with dust.



Buffy felt her heart thudding alarmingly, any second she expected Angelus and Drusilla to appear. They didn’t come, which could only mean badness.





Buffy led Spike to the largest room of the mansion, the place both of them knew Angelus to be.







It was Buffy’s nightmare. Angelus. Drusilla. Stood side by side as she and Angel once stood. Their expressions were ones of dark, deadly glee.



Buffy was so lost in her own horrible emotions she didn’t notice at first that Spike was suddenly not by her side.

She was instantly panicked, but wasn’t given time to act on it as Angelus began to speak, “Buff! Glad you could join us, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show. That would have been such a shame. Dru had so much fun killing her first slayer, she wouldn’t have liked being deprived of seeing the death of a second.”



Drusilla laughed manically. “Ooo it was fun it was, her neck snapped like a chicken! But then she went all floppy... like a little doll who doesn’t want to play. And I like to play”





Buffy felt sick, and through her head ran the constant thought ‘Spike, Spike, where is Spike?”





She took a step towards them and expected to feel her legs give out beneath her. She held firm however, and barely even shook. Her voice too was steady, cocky even, as she replied “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not in the mood to play, and I won’t be the one dying tonight.”





Angelus laughed and it cut Buffy to the soul. “Oh Buff, even I didn’t think you were that much of a dumb blonde! Well, fake blonde anyway. The collars don’t quite match the cuffs do they?”





Buffy flared red with embarrassment and anger. Her grip on her sword hilt tightened. It was then she noticed the statue behind Angelus, and the fact that he too had a sword in his hands. She took another step forward.





Drusilla suddenly started to clap excitedly. “Ooo daddy can I go play outside? The stars have sent me a present, they’ve dropped an angel on the floor!” She giggled. “A real angel. Not like you my naughty daddy.”





Without taking his eyes off Buffy Angelus said “Can it wait Dru? We have a guest, we should make sure she’s comfortable first.”





Buffy realised that Spike must be outside, trying to draw Drusilla out. While she wished he was here to fight by her side she knew that she had to face Angelus alone. She called out tauntingly, “What, are you afraid to take me on on your own? Afraid to take me in a fair fight?”





Angelus growled. “Dru, go. Me and Buff are going to do some one on one. Hopefully it will be more satisfying then the last time.”





Drusilla practically ran out of the room. Buffy was beyond rage. She loved Angel. This was not Angel. This was Angelus. He was cruel, he was ruthless and he was evil. He had to be stopped.





As though on some signal they both advanced at speed. They’re swords clashed together and rained down a shower of sparks from the force of the impact. The fight had begun.



***





Drusilla spun in graceful circles under the cloudless night sky. The moonlight hit her skin and made it glow. Her head was thrown back so she faced the heavens. She began to sing.



“Princes and princesses, nuns and naughty boys, slayers and vampires play with their toys.”





“Hello Dru.”



Spike had known that If Drusilla had seen Buffy attacking her precious daddy she would have fought tooth and nail to protect him and even he would have struggled to hold her back. He had gone outside and waited until Xander had gotten Giles from the building before calling Dru to him. He was not sure she would hear him at first, they had not communicated in this way for a very long time.





She heard him, loud and clear. And now here she was.





She stopped spinning and turned to him with a breathlessly beautiful smile on her face and her arms stretched out towards him. “Spike, my prince, my dear sweet William, I knew you would come back to me at last. I knew you would be in my arms again.”





Spike made no move nearer. “Why Dru? Why do you keep doin this?”



“My sweet William is angry with me. Why is he angry with me?”



There was more sorrow in Spikes eyes then anger. “Your obsession with slayers, your determination to kill one. I know you do it to bring me out... but you know, you must bloody know by now, it won’t work. Things won’t ever be like they were Dru, not ever.”





Drusilla stamped her foot. She was more lucid now then she had been in years. “You keep hurting me! Why do you want to hurt me my William? I’m you’re princess, your special princess”





Spike shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you Dru. But I will. This time I will, If I have to. You’ve done what you’ve always wanted, you’ve killed a slayer. You can stop this now.”



Drusilla put her hands over her ears and shook her head wildly. “No no no no no. That slayer was no fun, no fun at all. I want to stop the sunshine. I won’t leave. Daddy and you and I, we will have a party, all of our very own and block out the sun for ever.”





Spike snorted. “You’re daddy won’t be up for a party soon luv, only thing he’ll be up for is an urn.”





Spike instantly regretted his comment as she looked towards the house in panic, and made as if to go back inside.



Spike blurred with the speed of his movement. He kicked out and caught Drusilla in the centre of her back. She flew forward and slammed into the wall with a sickening crunch. She did not get up, but turned, whimpering, to face Spike.





“You made me fall down and I didn’t like it. I shouldn’t be in the dirt with the worms. We used to live in the stars... why won’t you live in the stars anymore?”





Spike clenched and unclenched his fists. “You know why. You bloody well did this Dru, not me”.





“I only did what daddy said, daddy made me do it. But you’re mine sweet William, mine. I want to have what’s mine”





“I’m not yours Dru, not anymore. I haven’t been yours for a hundred years. You chose your daddy and then he went and got a soddin soul and didn’t want you anymore so you decided you’d have me back instead, but you’ll never have me back.”





Drusilla rose with a frightening rage glittering in her eyes. “You’re mine, mine and daddies and we will have what’s ours.”





She sprung at him and her claw like nails raked where his face had been less than a second before. She hissed and sprung at him again and again. Every time she missed.



“Enough!” Spike did not shout but his voice carried the weight of a scream. He grasped Drusilla’s neck tightly in one hand and lifted her from the ground.

She managed to rasp out ‘mine’ and she smiled grotesquely.





Spike shook his head. “No Dru, not your's” Before she understood what was happening he had slid into game face. She started to panic, squirming and clawing at his arms.



“Be still.” Drusilla’s arms went limp at her sides but her eyes were wide with horror. Spike drew his fangs close to her neck, to where her pulse could once be heard and where two small silvery scars crossed. He sunk his fangs into them, felt the blood oozing, coating his lips and trickling down his throat. He hesitated for only a moment before he retracted his fangs slightly and violently tore the skin, exposing the stolen blood in her still veins beneath the surface.



Through the blood and the gore and his own sickening sensations he roared, “No longer yours but my own! I am my own. Claimed by no one”





Tears flowed freely down Drusilla’s cheeks and Spike had to look away as he released her. His voice was low and heavy as he said, “We are done. Leave here now. If I ever see you again I will kill you.”





Drusilla was trembling. She looked back towards the mansion but Spike moved so that he blocked her path to it. “I mean it Dru.”





She didn’t acknowledge his statement. She looked as confused and bereft as Spike felt, and gazed vacantly towards the stars, as though for guidance. She began to hum an odd disjointed tune as she walked slowly away. Her usual grace had been abandoned, she shambled along, staggering every now and again. She did not once look away from the stars.



When even the scent of her was beginning to fade Spike turned back towards the mansion. He took a deep and unneeded breath. The metallic clang of swords, which had been in the background of his hearing, had stopped abruptly. The worst was yet to come.

The first time Buffy trained with Spike had been a memorable experience for her, not least because it was also the first time she had seen him in sunlight.

She knew that Spikes heart didn’t beat and he drank blood to survive. She knew he was at least half vampire, at least half dead, but he seemed more alive to her then anyone she had ever met. Despite his clothing choices he was like a flash of colour in a black and white world. When he wasn’t making her angry he was making her laugh. She was never bored around him, and never tired of his company. When she saw him that day weeks ago, walking towards her in the glare of the afternoon sun, it seemed so wrong that he spent so much of his time in darkness when he clearly belonged in the light.


His eyes seemed bluer than ever, their intensity was almost too much to handle. His skin was translucently pale, emphasising the angular sharpness of his cheekbones. His lips were redder than she’d ever realised, fuller too and so very... kissable looking. He really was beautiful.
He was Spike.


Buffy felt embarrassed at first, though she couldn’t have said why. She scuffed the ground with her toe. “So, where are we training then?”


Spike smiled widely. “The graveyard slayer, where else?”


Buffy was surprised. “But it’s day time.”


Spike widened his eyes and looked around him with sarcastic shock “Colour me purple and call me a grape, your right.”


Buffy scowled and elbowed him. Hard.


Spike chuckled and elbowed her back. “Just for that slayer, you don’t get an ice cream.”


He was different in the sun. The heavy threat of night was lifted and it was as though Spike felt lighter, freer. He walked with a bounce to his step. His customary duster had been replaced with a crimson shirt. He laughed more easily, and despite the darkness that plagued her heart Buffy found herself laughing with him.


After a lot of mucking around, arguing and play fighting they got to the grave yard. Spike promptly tapped Buffy smartly on the arm, shouted “Your it!” And ran off.


“Hey! What are you doing?!”


“What do you think I’m doing you stupid chit? I’m warming up. Catch me if you can!” He stuck his tongue out and looked so damn adorable Buffy ran after him without another word.


Warming up proved to be a brilliant idea for two reasons. For one, Buffy got to see Spike (usually so annoyingly graceful) trip over a wonky gravestone. He fell in a spectacularly overly dramatic style, jumping back up covered in mud and with his hair tufting all over the place. Buffy almost fell down herself she was laughing so hard. The second reason was a result of the first. Spike had caught his T shirt on something and torn it quite badly. He swore and stomped for a minute before removing his red shirt and pulling off the ruined black tee.


Buffy’s mouth dropped open before she could stop it. Spike was buff. He was mega buff. He wasn’t big built, but his slim torso was pure sculpted muscle. The sunlight illuminated the fine downy hairs which trailed so invitingly from his belly button to beneath his low slung jeans. She could see his prominent hip bones and could tell that he had indeed been telling the truth when he’d said he didn’t wear underwear. This knowledge made Buffy feel more flustered then she’d probably ever felt before. The fact that Spike obviously knew what effect he was having on her didn’t help.


He smiled lazily, running one hand through his tousled hair and hooking the other through his belt loop. “See something you like pet?” He looked her up and down. “I know I do”.


Buffy reacted the way she always did nowadays to Spike’s light hearted innuendos, she laughed. Only this time her laugh came out as a strangely high pitched giggle and she couldn’t meet his eyes as he put on his red shirt and buttoned it. She was both relieved and disappointed to see him cover up.


The training began in earnest after that. Spike wondered off and, to Buffy’s surprise, pulled two great big swords from behind a grave.


He went to hand her one. She looked from the very pointy
weapon to Spike and back again. “You just left badly hidden swords here in the middle of the day?! What if a kid had found them?”


Spike furrowed his brow, “They would have learnt a very valuable lesson, arms don’t grow back”


Buffy rolled her eyes and took the sword he offered. “Let’s get started yeah?”


“Fine by me pet, I fancy whipping your sweet little ass at least ten times before we call it day.”


Buffy sported a cocky grin, “We’ll just see who does the whipping. Me and Giles have trained with a sword loads of- ARGH!”


Spike had spun his sword in a graceful arc, knocking Buffy's clean out of her loose grip and catching it in his free hand.


“That’s one to me then.”


“Hey! What’s the deal?!” Buffy’s wrist hurt from the jarring it had received. She rubbed it and gave Spike an annoyed look.


Spike, for once, looked serious. “Lesson the first pet, don’t wait for your opponent to politely ask you if he can strike, cos you'll be bloody dead. Always be ready.”



Buffy lost ten times that day. Each session after that she improved, desperate not be shown up by Spike, and equally desperate to impress him. She worked hard, and by the time they had reached lesson the 45th she could beat him half the time. Mostly.





Those lessons were like distant dreams now Buffy was facing Angelus. She now knew that Spike had been preparing her for the battle he knew was coming. He had tried, he really had. But he could never have prepared her for this. Her palms were hot. She could feel the sword sliding in her grip and her breath was coming out in shallow gasps. She tried desperately to seem calm, to be ready.


Angelus stalked towards her, a predator through and through. “What’s the matter Buff? I thought after the first time you wouldn’t be so nervous being alone with me. I only hope you can perform better. That was disappointing.”


Buffy snorted. “I think I was the one let down, at least in certain departments.” Buffy didn’t have enough experience to know whether Angelus was lacking in that way. Angel had certainly made her feel good. But this was Angelus, and Angelus she wanted to hurt. She seemed to have struck a nerve. He growled.


“You little bitch. I’m going to make you pay. For that; and for being so stupid as to think I could ever actually love you." He sneered. "You disgust me”


Buffy took her searing heart break and pushed it deep down inside of her. She was surprised by the strength in her own voice, “Well I’m not exactly feeling warm fuzzies about you, so this should be easy shouldn’t it?”


Angelus didn’t answer. He was sniffing the air and a mixture of comprehension and rage was spreading across his face. His voice was a deadly whisper. “Well. Isn’t that interesting. The boy has decided to make an appearance.” He slid into game face, and Buffy burned under the strength of his fiery eyes. “I knew; I knew something wasn’t right.” He roared and Buffy immediately went on the defensive. His roar turned into a blood stilling laugh. “He thinks he’s so clever... always thinks he can get one over on me. I bet he’s bedded you.” He spat at Buffy and she tried not to flinch. He spoke with venom. “If he has then the jokes on sweet William. Don’t worry though Buff, Drusilla will be readying him for me as we speak. Beating him into submission. Once I’ve dealt with you me and William will have some fun. As long as Dru doesn’t get carried away that is.”

Buffy felt a fluttering of panic in her heart, but in her
head she knew Spike was all right. She felt sure that if something had happened to Spike she would know. She would just know.


Buffy raised her voice in defiance. “Your skanky ho is probably already dust on the wind.”


Angelus laughed again, but this time it was a laugh of
real amusement. Buffy felt a chill pass through her. “Oh Buff, you don’t know William at all do you? The boy would never dust her, no matter what pretty little lies he spun to get you into bed.”


Buffy was on the verge of asking him what he meant when Angelus struck. Buffy was ready for him, and blocked his attack with ease. She put Spike out of her mind and concentrated on the battle at hand, it was going to be a big one.


He struck, she blocked. She dove, he spun. She kicked, he dodged. On and on. Sweat was seeping into Buffy’s eyes, blurring her sight. She had suffered a few surface wounds and a hard fall and she was starting to feel it.


She used a tricky move which Spike had taught her. It has never worked when she’d tried it on him, but tonight luck seemed to be on her side.


Angelus went down. Buffy could have killed him then, that instant. She could have cleft his head from his shoulders and ended this nightmare she had been living.



An image of Angel, protective Angel, loving Angel, her Angel, flew unbidden into her mind. She hesitated, and she lost the upper hand. Angelus rolled, springing to his feet some distance away.


He didn’t charge back at Buffy, as she assumed he would. He walked to the statue Buffy had almost forgotten about, the one that could open the gates to hell.


Buffy’s world became one small tunnel of vision. She tried to run forward. She tried to do something, anything, but she couldn’t. She heard him say, as though from far away, “As fun as this is Buff, I think I’ll skip to the main event.”


Angelus took the sword. He held out his hand, palm upward, and drew the swords blade across it until the blood began to blossom.


At the sight of it Buffy snapped back to reality, she started forward, but even with slayer speed she was too late.

Angelus gave her one last smile before he placed his blooded palm to the centre of the statue.

The gates of hell began to open.



Buffy pushed away all thoughts. All thought of Angel. Of Spike, of her mom and Giles and her friends. Of the world she could lose at any moment. She concentrated everything into one final attempt, one last fight.


Angelus looked gleeful as he countered Buffy’s frenzied
attacks. Nothing could stop him. Nothing and no one.




In another place a hospital room was saturated with the scent of magic being wrought. On a cheap plastic table an orb began to pulse. A girl with blackened eyes began to chant the final words.




Buffy had him. She was finally ready to strike the final blow. She pulled back the sword. Then-


“Buffy?”


It was funny. How one word, just one, could change everything.
From that one word Buffy knew that she was not fighting Angel anymore.
Willow had succeeded, Angel was back.
She didn’t need to see his eyes, restored to their warm brown, to know it. Angelus could never have said her name that way. There was love behind it, real love. And it killed her.


Her sword fell to her side.


“Angel?” It was him, her Angel. And behind him the gates of hell were widening, ready to swallow them both whole.


“You’re hurt.”


If only he knew how she was hurting. Buffy wanted to clutch her chest, to claw out the pain. It was unbearable. Every word that passed between them only made it worse.


“Shh, close your eyes.”


He did it without question. At this sign of his trust in her she nearly faltered. Only the heat she was beginning to feel radiate from the ever widening portal made her pull the sword back.


She thrust.


For the second time that night time shifted for Buffy. Before it had slowed, mocking her inability to act. Now it had stopped, and the sword that had been driving towards Angel was no longer in her hands. Angel was frozen, his eyes still closed. The portal was still swirling.

Buffy spun round. Spike.

He looked beaten, though there was barely a scratch on him.

Buffy could see he was emotionally beaten, just as he could see that she was.

“Spike- Angel, he- I don’t-“

Spike pulled her into his side and held her fiercely with his free arm. “It’s alright luv, it’s ok.”


Buffy didn’t try to stop her tears, “It’s not ok. It’s not.”

Spike nodded. “It’s not, but it will be.” He released her and walked towards Angel with an odd look on his face.

“I never did tell you how me an Captain forehead knew each other did I pet?” Spike sighed. “I suppose now isn’t really the time for a story either. But there is somethin you should know.” Spikes face was pinched, his blue eyes darkened with remembered pain. “My ol’man, my bloody daddy dearest... he was sired by Darla, who I think you met. Old super bitch herself. He was actually her favourite childe, til peaches came along. Then I was born. That made Angelus my uncle, of sorts.
Most vampires spend their unlives alone, or in packs. A few vampires live in clans, in twisted families bound by blood. We were some of the few. After my mum... died, my father wanted to ensure my loyalty, to him, to the family. I was made to take a blood oath, with each of them. I was the childe of them all. They all had the control of sires over me. Or at least I let them think they did. Much later Dru became more than a sire to me. What Giles told you about what happened with my father after that was true, but nowhere near all.”


A rumble had been building whilst Spike had been speaking. Now the floor began to shake.
Spike took another step closer to the motionless Angel, the sword twitching in his hand. Buffy took a step closer to him without realising she did.


Spike turned to her and tried to smile. “I really wish there was time to tell you everythin Buffy. I really do.” He began to raise the sword.


“Spike! What are you doing?!” Buffy’s tears had stopped and she could see all too clearly.


“I hate Angelus pet. Even though he’s family. Actually, I mainly hate him because of that. But family he is. His blood is my blood.”


Something on Spikes list suddenly became horribly clear. Blood is everything.


The sword moved with frightening speed.
One thrust and the blood began to flow. Spikes lip twitched. “See ya round slayer”.



Time was moving so slowly one minute. A horrible drawn out nightmare that seemed to last for an eternity.
Then it was all over.
A second made all the difference. One second and Buffy’s life was destroyed again.
One second and he was no longer stood before her. In one second he was sucked to hell.

Buffy had been broken before. She had known pain, she had lived pain. This night had been nothing but pain.
She had never known anything like this. He was sucked into hell and it was as if the flames that took him had consumed her as well.


In a second, Spike was gone.

Willow and Xander were worried about Buffy.


The first few days, the days of disbelief and desperation, the days of anger and hurt, those days had been awful.


But crying, shouting Buffy they could deal with. Kinda.


For the last few days they had seen a side of Buffy they had never seen before. She was doing things so un-Buffy like that they didn’t know how to deal with it at all.


For one, she was reading. Actually reading.



One morning she had burst into the library like a mad thing, pulling books off the shelves only to look at the spines and throw them away. Giles was horrified beyond speaking when he saw the way his beloved books were being treated, but his attempts to calm Buffy had little to no effect. He settled for running around behind her, catching what books he could, stroking and replacing those he could not.


Once Buffy had collected a pile of books bigger then her she settled in a chair and began to read with a fervour Giles had never seen her apply to anything.


For each day after that Buffy had spent every spare moment she had, right up to and beyond nightfall, reading.


She didn’t talk and she only answered questions directed at her in two words or less. She didn’t eat and only drank something when forced.


Giles repeatedly entreated her to tell him what she was looking for, but she always refused.


Willow and Xander were worried, but they weren’t sure what to do. They couldn’t reach her themselves, and even her mom hadn’t managed to drag her away from the library. They had briefly considered seeing if there was anything Angel could do, but neither of them wanted to see him, or even knew where he was. After the last meeting between Buffy and Angel Willow decided that finding him would not be of the good. Buffy never told Willow and Xander the details of what happened that night in the mansion, but when she hadn’t returned at day break Xander had gone to find her.
She had been huddled in the corner of the room, staring at nothing, with bloodied, broken hands.


The statue which had so very nearly unleashed hell on earth had been covered with the rusty red evidence of her attempts to claw it open.



Buffy had confirmed, in a dazed way, that Angel’s soul had been restored, and that she didn’t have to kill him to close the portal, because Spike had closed it for her. But that was all she said. And Angel was nowhere to be seen.



At first Xander couldn’t see why Buffy was so upset about Spike. As far as he was concerned they hadn’t known each other that long or that well, and while it was sad (for her anyway) surely she would have preferred it to be Spike than Angel.


Willow didn’t agree. She had known of plenty of times when Buffy and Spike had met, times that Xander was not aware of. And while she, by no means, thought herself at all an expert on matters of the heart she saw a connection there. A strong one.


Spike’s sacrifice seemed to have brought all of Giles’ grief over Jenny screaming back to the surface, and he himself was so low that he wasn’t much help in helping pick Buffy back up. He stayed in the library while she was there. He watched her reading and taking notes. After the first day he didn’t interfere, just made sure that she knew he was there and made sure he gave her a ride home at night.


After a week of this Willow and Xander decided to call an emergency scoobie meeting/intervention. After gathering a concerned Oz, an almost concerned Cordelia, and a still half asleep Giles they marched into the library, ready to do anything it took to bring Buffy back to a communicating place.


They needn’t have bothered. As soon as they strode (commandingly) through the doors Buffy pounced on them. In the first time in what felt like forever she was smiling, and there was a light on behind her eyes. She even sounded chirpy as she said,


“Guys! Great, I was just coming to get you. We need to have a meeting, like right now.”


Xander raised his eyebrows. “Yeah Buff, we were actually thinking the same thing... we just didn’t expect you to be so keen.”



Buffy actually laughed. “I know I’m not usually one for early mornings but it’s amazing what a little caffeine can do.”


They looked over Buffy’s head to see at least five empty coffee cups cluttering the table, and it was only eight am. Everyone else’s eyebrows shot up to match Xanders. No wonder Buffy was so... bouncy.


She pouted suddenly. “No doughnuts? Buffy hungry!”


Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Don’t go back on the carbs now, not when you’ve finally got down to a size two.” She brightened. “You could so pull off a micro mini now!”



Everyone ignored her but sat down when Buffy motioned them to. She picked up a hefty looking volume and clutched it to her chest. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an avoidy Buffy lately guys, but I needed to do some research on something, and I wanted to do it alone. By the way, can totally see why you guys complain so much about researching, seriously not fun, but anyway, I’ve finally found what I was looking for, and now we can start making a plan!”


The others all exchanged a look. Giles leaned forward and looked at Buffy intently, “A plan for what?”


Buffy looked confused, as though that must be obvious. “A plan to get Spike back of course.”


Giles whipped his glasses from his face and set to polishing them with practised intensity. “And how exactly do you expect to get Spike back?”


Buffy looked at him as if she was disappointed in his stupidity. She opened the book she was holding to a marked page and dropped it on the table in front of them all, completely ignoring Giles’ flinch. “By opening a portal of course.”


Willow had leaned over to see the book and had visibly palled. Though she was pretty sure she knew the answer she felt she had to ask, “A portal to where?”


Buffy flicked her hair over her shoulder and folded her arms.

“I’m getting Spike back, and the only way to do that is to drag him out of where he is. I need you guys to help me with this ritual, to open a portal, cos this year I’m vacationing in the balmy resort of hell.”

Two weeks earlier

Everything was fuzzy, and everything was wrong.


Buffy, beautiful Buffy, was crying. Screaming. Desperately clawing at some statue as though it had devoured her very soul. Angel tried to reach out to her, to hold her and take whatever pain she was feeling away, but she wouldn’t let him.


When he touched her she cried harder. She pushed him. Shoved him so hard he stumbled. She didn’t want him near her, and he couldn’t understand why.


She cried herself hoarse, before stumbling to a corner and slumping on the ground. Angel watched her and a feeling of dread grew within him. Everything was wrong.


Angel remembered.

It came to him in flashes and bursts, horrific in their vividness.

He remembered everything he had said and done and he felt sick. Standing upright was difficult, his head was swimming. His restored soul throbbed mockingly in his chest, each throb a reminder of the blood he had drenched it with.


Angel watched Buffy with an ache in his chest. Her bloodied hands lay in her lap, her eyes were closed and the look of defeat on her face severely etched. She had loved him, and he had made her pay dearly for that love.



Angel remembered everything.


“Buffy? Buffy, I’m so sorry.”


Buffy sighed. When she spoke her voice was strained. “I know you are Angel”. She didn’t open her eyes.


Angel dared a step closer. “It wasn’t me, It really wasn’t. I never would have done that to you, not any of it. I... I love you.”


Buffy’s eye lids fluttered open and a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “That doesn’t make it better.”


“I know. I know I can’t ever make this right, can’t ever make up for what I... he... did. I know I’ve hurt you more then... then I can believe. But I am so sorry, and I do love you.”


While he had been talking Angel had been slowly stepping closer, and was now crouched on the ground, on eye level with Buffy.

She met his eyes and while his were pleading hers were cold. “Tell me Angel, what does the name Spike mean to you?”


Angel flinched. “Spike?”


“I’m sorry, you refer to him as ‘the boy’, don’t you?”


Angel flinched again. “He was here tonight wasn’t he?”


Buffy’s voice was tight with pain. “He was, but he’s gone now. He cleared up the mess you made. And he’s gone now.”


The guilt over his actions burnt strongly in Angel’s chest, but jealousy suddenly burnt stronger. Spike had been here, around for months, obviously spending time with Buffy. Angel had smelt him at the school but he hadn’t believed he could be there, and Buffy had never said a word about it. After he had lost his soul it was understandable why she would keep Spikes presence a secret, but why had she before? Were all these tears, this pain, was it all for him?


“Why do you want to know about Spike?”


Buffy almost growled. “Because I do Angel. How do...did you know him?”


Angel rubbed his brow. “Buffy I don’t want- I can’t talk about it.”


“Angel, this is the least you owe me. The very least. And you are not leaving here without telling me everything.”


Angel was silent for a very long time. Then- “What did he tell you?”


Buffy wiped the salty tang of loss from her face. “Not much, just that you were sort of his uncle, that he was part of your ‘family’. That he had been made to give a blood oath of loyalty to you.”



Angel nodded slowly. “Buffy, when I tell you what you want to hear, remember, it wasn’t me, not the me you know.”



Buffy snorted, “I think I know both sides of you now.”



Angel sighed heavily. “What Spike told you was true. He was part of our family, only he was William then. When he was born we hadn’t seen his father for several decades, he resented Darla for siring me, and for preferring me when she had. He went off, causing devastation of his own. We heard about him through the grapevine, Darla liked to keep tabs on her childe, so we knew when he’d taken up with the slayer-“


“Jane. Her name was Jane.”


Angel nodded slightly. “Yes. We heard about that. And then William was born. After Jane ran off The Predator (as he liked to call himself) found us, asked us for our help in tracking her down. It sounded- it sounded like fun. Darla was bored, and we agreed. But she proved hard to find. By the time we succeeded William wasn’t a baby anymore, and it was clear that he was more than human. After Jane... died we all took to training William, to initiating him into our little family. The Predator wasn’t much interested in him beyond using what powers he had, but we liked him, as much as vampires can like anyone. We kept him close when he was a child.”


Buffy didn’t like the way Angel spoke. “You mean he was your toy don’t you? You pushed him and manipulated him to see how much it would take for him to break.”


“Buffy, it wasn’t like that. He needed to be taught how to survive. Vampires live on instinct, but he had a child’s instincts. He wouldn’t have survived if we hadn’t toughened him up. And it wasn’t always bad. Drusilla was often kind to him, or as kind as she knows how to be. He was her ‘little prince’, she often protected him from the rest of us.

When we first made the blood bond, tying him to us, we didn’t realise it would break. But it did, when he turned sixteen. We didn’t feel it, But Drusilla knew, somehow. Maybe the stars told her” Angel barked a laugh that sounded oddly loud in that quiet place. He sobered instantly. “None of us knew, but she claimed William as a mate, tying him to her permanently.”


Buffy’s eyes widened. “And he let her? After everything you had done to him, after what his father did to his mother? He willingly let himself get shackled to that nut job?”


Angel closed his eyes, as though relieving a memory that was partly painful, partly not. “You can’t understand what it was like Buffy. William remembered his father killing his mother, and he hated him for it, though none of us could have guessed quite how much. But he had been surrounded by evil for the majority of his life, it was all he really knew. He didn’t understand good. He hated his father, but we were his family. And Drusilla, he was young, and she is beautiful, persuasive. He believed he was in love with her, though it was never really anything more than an infatuation.


After he killed his father he could have turned on the rest of us. He was certainly strong enough. But he didn’t. He stayed with us for several years after that.”


Buffy shook her head to get rid of the confusion. “Why did you let him? After what he’d done to one of your own, why didn’t you all turn on him?”



Angel almost smiled. “None of us, particularly me, were very fond of his father. His actions with the slayer-Jane- had drawn unwanted council attention on us. He was all about the attention, not the art of the kill. Even Darla had had enough of him. None of us were sorry to see him go, and we all wanted to keep William.

He didn’t want to leave us either. We were all he had in the world. As dysfunctional, as evil and cruel as we were, he was ours.”


“So Spike hunted? He killed?”


“Yes. For a short time anyway.”


Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And she didn’t want to. Spike, the saviour of slayers, her saviour, was a cold blooded killer. Either he didn’t have a soul, or he just didn’t care.



Angel noticed the fresh wave of hurt crashing over Buffy, and though his instincts were screaming at him not to, he decided to be honest. “Buffy, William didn’t like killing. He never relished the hunt, or sought it out. He just didn’t know he could live another way. When he could he would feed off our kills, but we thought that made him soft, and we punished him for it.
He’d started having slayer visions when he was about eighteen, though none of us knew that’s what they were. He thought he was like Drusilla, a little addled in the mind, seeing things that weren’t there. Because of that he relied on us, and our judgement, more than he should have. He didn’t really have a choice about killing, not back then. We didn’t give him one.”


Buffy felt a little better, and it wasn’t as if Spike hadn’t tried to make amends after. He’d saved countless slayers, countless times, after all. Herself included. “So what changed? Why did he suddenly decide to leave your ‘family’? He seems to really hate you now.” There was an emphasis, a relish on the word hate, that Angel didn’t like.


Angel was reluctant to continue, but one look from Buffy made him realise he’d have to. “Love. Love changed him. Changed everything. It always does” his intense gaze made Buffy tremble with remembered feeling, but she ignored it and after a moment he spoke again. “William could go out in the daylight, we’d always known that, but we’d never really thought about what he did in those daylight hours. One day we found out.
When he was about twenty one we settled in London. There was a lot of fun to be had in London, in those days. All of a sudden William became different, secretive and quiet, when he never had been before. He stopped coming hunting with us, and wouldn’t feed from our kills, no matter how much he was... encouraged.

Then Drusilla had a vision, or rather, she saw something through the mating bond. William had been going out during the day, for walks, exploring the town. And on one of these explorations he met a girl. The only women he had ever known were Darla and Drusilla, but this was a human. A girl of warmth, of flesh and blood.
They got talking. She was a society girl, she should never have been going anywhere un-chaperoned, but she was wilful and headstrong, and she found a way. They began to meet regularly. William discovered goodness in her, real kindness and affection. He realised he could eat human food to supplement his blood. He realised he didn’t have to be the monster we’d made him. He made plans with her, plans for their future, and they didn’t include us.

This had been going on for months secretly, before Drusilla had her vision. She saw it all, right from the beginning, and she was furious that her darling prince could want to leave her. She told us, actually making sense for once, and we were equally disgusted with him, that he could turn his back on being what he truly was for some human.” Angel swallowed heavily. Buffy got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she had a terrible feeling she knew how the story would end.

It was obviously difficult for Angel to tell the next part, but he did, making no attempt to meet Buffy’s eyes now.

“One night we sent William out on an errand. Another vampire clan had come to the area, and we wanted it to be clear which parts of the city belonged to us. William went off to deliver the message, and Drusilla used her thrall to draw William’s girl to us. She was dead by the time William returned.”

Fresh tears had begun to make their way down the now familiar paths that streaked Buffy’s face as she remembered the way Giles had found Miss Calendar. With a definite tremble in her voice Buffy asked, “But you didn’t just kill her, did you?”

Angel was paler then ever as he shook his head. “No, we didn’t. By the time we were through with her William only recognised her by what was left of her dress... and the necklace she wore. He’d given it to her.”


Buffy knew that was not all. “And?”


Angel rose to his feet and took several steps away from Buffy. His hands were clenched into fists so tight the knuckles appeared to be bursting from the skin. “We didn’t realise at first, not for a while after we had her, but then Darla pointed it out. She always had the best hearing. It was so faint... barely recognisable. I’ve never heard anything like it. We cut her open to... to get it out, and we laid it by her body when we were done. Then we left. When William came back he found them side by side. The woman he loved and-“


“Their baby.” Buffy’s voice cracked on the word. She stood on shaky legs and had to stop herself from picking up the remaining sword and finishing the job she had set out to do that evening.


“Why didn’t he kill you? All of you, when he found out what you’d done?”


Angel smiled sadly, “He wanted to. God how he wanted to. And he did try, but Drusilla had made sure that he couldn’t. As they’re mated, and because she was the more senior vampire in the pairing, she could command him to not kill us. It was physically impossible for him not to obey. We all thought he’d get over it, and come back to the fold. None of us thought he could really love, he was half vampire after all. But he never came back. He left, and we didn’t see him again for some time.

He figured out what the slayer visions meant, after a time, and he focused his energies on that. It drove Drusilla even more insane, she was determined that she would get him back somehow, and she thought that going after slayers would bring him back to her. It didn’t of course.
Our paths didn’t cross until one night, in Romania. William had been tracking our movements, waiting for his moment to get what revenge he could, and he found the perfect one. He made sure the gypsies knew it was me who had killed their daughter. He helped them cast the spell that cursed me with a soul. He made sure I knew where my suffering came from.”


Buffy snapped. “You brought your suffering on yourself, he just made sure you felt it.”


Angel turned pleading eyes on Buffy, “I do feel it Buffy, I do. Everyday, all day, I regret the things I did. And now I have even more things to regret.”


Buffy ignored him, “So you’re sick little family went their separate ways and you never saw them again? Is that it?”


Angel nodded.


“Thank you. Right now, I need to be as far away from you as I can possibly get. Stay the hell away from me okay? Spike isn’t around to save your life again.”


Buffy walked straight past him, without looking back, leaving a confused and devastated Angel behind her.


Buffy didn’t care. Her love for Angel, all of the heartbreak she had felt the last few months, had faded to grey. All she was thinking about, all she was focused on; was Spike, and the fact that, because of her, he was now in hell.

Back in the present day....

Giles had protested, loudly, about Buffy’s plan, with Xander at the sidelines adding to his argument.

Cordelia, who could care less, said nothing, while Oz, who did care, kept quiet too.

Willow had picked up the book Buffy had presented them with and was pouring over the spell eagerly. She knew Buffy. Once she had her mind set on something she did it. Willow knew that Buffy would attempt this spell with or without their help, but with their help there was the chance she might succeed.

The spell was a good one. For once Buffy had researched thoroughly, had actually read the words on the page, and Willow would have picked just this text if she had been looking herself.

Willow cleared her throat as noisily as she could then blushed when all eyes turned to her. “Uh,Giles, while I agree that Buffy going to hell is so not of the good, I think this would work, and uh wouldn’t actually be that dangerous.”


Giles mouth fell open while Buffy beamed at her. Of all the people in the room Giles trusted Willows judgement the most. Cordelia only thought of how things would affect her, Oz kept what he was thinking to himself, most the time what Xander thought was of little use to anyone, and Buffy always followed her heart. Willow used her head, she weighed and measured things and formed a considered judgement. So he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“See, this spell opens a portal to another dimension, and I know we don’t know exactly which dimension Spike’s in, but we can use something of his as a kinda anchoring point, it’ll make the portal open wherever he is. Buffy would just have to get in, get him and get out and it could all be done in minutes.”


“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you Giles, it’s just gonna be a poof! In and out job. I can totally handle it.”


Giles almost snatched the book from Willows hands and poured over it intently. Suddenly he jabbed his finger at the page, “Buffy, the portal will close as soon as you go through it, and has to be reopened from wherever you end up. How do you expect to do that without Willow and I?”


Buffy still looked triumphant. “Spikes way good with magic Giles, like annoyingly good. If I take a copy of the spell with me he could so open the portal. Piece of cake.”


Giles started to polish his glasses. It was going to be a long day.



It was midnight (of course) and the scoobies were gathered in a graveyard.

Cordelia had elected to stay at home, due to the fact that she had ‘Spent enough fricken time in graveyards, thank you very much’.

Oz was also absent, though nobody really knew why.


The full moon shone down on Willow, who stood at the head of a human triangle. Giles and Xander made up her other points while Buffy stood in the centre, clutching a piece of black fabric and looking more nervous then she’d led the others to believe she was.

The ‘anchoring point’, as Willow called it, was a t-shirt of Spikes, which Buffy had had to wear home after one of their training sessions, when Spike had ‘accidently’ slit hers open with a sword point. Why she had never returned it to him she wasn’t sure, but it did smell so very nice.


Giles gave Buffy a stern look, “If you want to back out of this ridiculous scheme then now’s your chance to say so Buffy. No one would think any the less of you.”


Buffy fingered the dark fabric and an image of Spike, teasing her in the sun, flashed through her mind. Suddenly her fear was gone. “Were doing this Giles.”


Giles gave her a curt nod, while Xander looked sulky.
Willow was a mixture of confidence and trepidation. She knew she could do this, she could, but a bit of the little self doubting Willow, class nerd and generally ignored, remained within her. What if she couldn’t do this? What if she ended up sending Buffy someplace else?

Buffy’s voice punctuated her ramblings. “Wills? Are you ready?”

Willow flushed, “Uh, yep, as ready as a ready thing! Uh, this is all in Latin, so this might sound mega weird... hope my pronunciations right and I don’t turn you into a toad, or a a rat, or a pigeon or something!” her nervous laughter made the confidence of everyone dip a little. Giles was about to speak up and bring a halt to the whole thing, when Willow began to chant.


It was the strangest thing. One moment it was Willow, their Willow, stumbling over her words with the book held closely to her face. The next moment she wasn’t their Willow at all. She was a witch.

Her head was thrown back, her eyes, which shone in the moonlight, had become blackened orbs. Every inch of her was radiating power. The book fell at her feet, forgotten, as she chanted from memory in a language she didn’t know.
Buffy felt a shiver at the sight of it, but then something began to happen and she forgot to be afraid of her friend’s new power.

The t shirt Buffy had been holding onto so tightly was invisibly yanked from her grasp. It began to spin, becoming a glowing ball of light which twisted and grew. Before Buffy’s wide eyed gaze a doorway was formed. A doorway through which Buffy could feel a searing heat. She gulped loudly and tightened her grip on the short sword Giles had insisted she take.

She gave them all a determined look, twisted with a loving smile. Giles stepped forward, as though to grab at her, but it was too late. Buffy had jumped through and the doorway was suddenly gone.




It was the strangest feeling, Buffy felt as though her insides were melding, wrenching, becoming outsides. She fell, she didn’t know how long for, or how far, but she fell.

When she landed she landed heavily, on a floor which shimmered with heat. The heat was everywhere, it pressed in on her relentlessly, making her skin shimmer with sweat in an instant. She got to her feet unsteadily. It was hard to know exactly where she had ended up, it was dark, light, everything all at once and yet nothing at all at the same time.

Buffy felt a little sick, and the heat made her very uncomfortable. She brought the sword before her and strode determinedly forward, into a tunnel that had appeared before her. She knew it was the right way to go when a sound, reverberating off the walls, met her ears. A groan. An anguished groan, and definitely a groan that sounded like Spike. Spike was up ahead.


Buffy broke into a run. Before it seemed humanly possible she was rounding a corner and a sight which she had never expected to see came before her eyes. her joy at seeing him was quickly squashed. She gasped, “Spike?!”


In the middle of a cavernous place a formal looking table dominated. Around the table a hideous assortment of creatures were gathered. Some had horns, and grasping claws, some had scales or were covered in slime. All looked at her with an evil gleam in their varying amounts of eyes.

At the head of the table Spike slowly turned round to face her. He was slumped in a chair, with an attitude of utter defeat.
Clasped in his hand were playing cards. Scattered on the table in front of him, and the less savoury individuals, were more cards, as well as a wicker basket. It was soon pretty obvious to Buffy what had been going on.

She drew herself up to her inconsiderable height. And pointed the sword at Spike. Her voice was low and deadly when she spoke. “You’re playing poker!??”

She drew herself up to her inconsiderable height. And pointed the sword at Spike. Her voice was low and deadly when she spoke. “You’re playing poker!”


Surprised didn’t quite cover the look on Spikes face as he beheld his very, very annoyed slayer. Buffy would have laughed at his comically wide eyes and slack jaw if she wasn’t so pissed with him. He didn’t look tormented. Not one bit.

Spike tried to seem composed as he rose from his seat, “Slayer! What the hell (excuse the pun) are you doing here?”

At the mention of Buffy’s title the gathered demons collectively shuddered and drew back.

Buffy advanced with the sword glinting as menacingly as her eyes. “I willingly got myself sucked into hell, which is really hot by the way, to rescue your stupid ass and I find you here, playing cards with a bunch of of ugly demons!”

One of the demons looked very upset, another patted him on the arm comfortingly.

Spike gave her a sheepish grin. “In my defence, I never asked you to rescue me pet, the rescuin is usually my bit.”

Buffy looked grim, and Spike realised he’d said the wrong thing. “Not that I’m not right glad to see you luv, I am, right pleased.”

“I’ve been worrying like mad about you for, thinking I was never going to see you again, upset doesn’t even cover it, and your just ‘glad to see me’!!!” Buffy’s voice had got unnaturally shrill, and tears had sprung in her eyes. “It’s nice to know you care about me as much as I care about you. While I was willing to do anything to get you back you just, what, chilled out?”


Spike tried to hide how pleased he felt by her admission, and look suitably told off. “I’m sorry pet, really sorry, but you know, I’ve only been here a couple of hours...”


“WHAT!?” You’ve only been here a couple of hours?? You got sucked to hell two weeks ago!”


Spike tilted his head to one side and stretched out a hand to her, “Slayer, Buffy, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time difference in these dimensions would be so much. I’ve been waiting for my ride outta her, had to wait for a bit though so I thought I’d pass the time catchin up with some old mates. I was gonna get back to you as quickly as I could. Didnt mean to make you worry luv.” He lowered his voice to a seductive timbre, “For what it’s worth, even though I wasn’t here long, I missed you too.”


Buffy rubbed her eyes with a shaking hand. “Worried? Who was worried? I was fine, peachy as a matter of fact.” Buffy suddenly threw herself at Spike, knocking the wind right out of him. On a normal man the tightness with which she clutched at him would have broken a rib or two, as Spike wasn’t human he just grabbed back at her as fiercely. Her lips somehow ended up pressed against his neck, she mumbled something into his smooth skin which sounded suspiciously like “hate you, stupid vampire person.”


Spike chuckled even as she drew away from him.

Buffy gave a hard look to the demons who had been trying to slip out. “These are friends of yours?”

A demon with a clawed, paw like hand gave her an uncomfortable wave. Spike stepped to position himself between the slayer and the people she would usually slay.

“Uh yeah, we go back a while, I don’t really go to hell dimensions all that often so we get together when we can.”


Buffy narrowed her eyes at Spike. “Me and you are gonna be having a long, long talk when we get home.”


Spike gulped even as he secretly thrilled at her use of the word home. He saluted mockingly, “Yes ma’am.” He turned to his friends. “See ya round fellas, was right good catching up.”

Nods and mumbled “Bye Spikes”, in various languages were exchanged. Most the demons went straight off, but one made a grab for the basket, accidently swiping it with a tentacle and knocking it over. About ten, very scared looking, kittens jumped out and made their way to freedom. The demon cursed and considered collecting them back up before he remembered the slayer. He promptly disappeared in a puff of grimy smoke.


Buffy watched the kittens dancing on the hot floor with a horrified expression Spike didn’t miss. He sighed and waved a hand in their general area, “Return”. The kittens then also vanished.


He grinned, “Just another thing to talk about when we get back eh?”


Buffy nodded dumbly. So far hell hadn’t been that hellish, just really really odd.


Spike touched her on the arm and the rush of tingly goodness that followed brought her back to the present.


“So, pet, how did you figure you’d get me outta here once you had me?”

Buffy couldn’t help but blush at the blatant innuendo behind his words as she handed him the spell, which had got somewhat crumpled and somehow a little singed in her pocket. As he looked it over and made approving noises Buffy remembered something.

“Hey, how were you gonna get back? You said you had a ride outta here? What was that?”


“That darling would be me.”




The alluring voice of a woman felt like nails clawing down Buffy’s back. She turned so quickly she almost overbalanced, finding herself face to face with a stranger. A completely beautiful and annoyingly tall and female stranger.


There was no getting away from the fact that she was stunning. Her shockingly blood red hair was short, cut into a pixi like style which framed her delicate bone structure, and huge unusually lilac eyes. Her lips were as full as Spikes, though obviously not as delicious looking, and they were twisted into a smile Buffy didn’t like the look of at all.

The woman was tall, but slim and graceful, there was an otherworldly beauty about her which, Buffy grudgingly admitted, some might find attractive. She circled Buffy, though in more of an appraising then menacing way. She smiled again and her eyes twinkled. “The Slayer! Well, the current Slayer anyway. When Will called me up he never mentioned you’d be here.”


Both women turned to Spike with raised eyebrows. He smiled awkwardly back. “Uh, sorry I bothered you sweet, I didn’t realise the slayer was comin to my rescue.”


Buffy bristled. Spike just called her ‘sweet’. He’d never called her 'sweet'.


The woman laughed, “Don’t worry about it Will. So, are you not going to do the introductions?”


Spike still looked embarrassed. “Sure, Buffy this is Vix, Vix this is Buffy. The slayer.”


Buffy ignored Vix’s offered hand. “So what kind of demon are you then?”


Vix’s eyes widened. But she looked far from afraid. “I’m a vengeance demon darling.”


Spike chimed in with, “I thought you were calling yourselves justice demons now?”


Vix put her hand on his arm in a way which irritated the hell out of Buffy. “That’s just head office, trying to make the outfit seem more professional. There was even talk of us getting uniforms at one point. Though,” she bit her lip, “As I recall, you always liked uniforms didn’t you?”


Spike blushed and coughed uncomfortably. Buffy was beginning to feel the undeniable urge to slay something. One thing in particular. She tried to sound calm as she spoke. “So how exactly do you guys know each other then?”


Spike opened his mouth to reply but Vix cut him off. “Will’s never mentioned me? Gosh how rude!” She smiled in a predatory manner and linked her arm through Spikes, even as he tried to pull away. “I’m his girlfriend.”

It was lucky that the death stare Buffy adopted at this news was aimed at Vix and not Spike, it would have dusted him in a second. Her voice belied her hard exterior, sounding horribly like a devastated child. “What are you talking about?”

She looked to Spike for confirmation or denial. She firmly hoped it would be denial. Big big definite denial. It wouldn’t hurt if he hit Vix too, just for good measure.

Spike looked at Vix with shifty eyes, he was right pissed off with the bint, but she had come to help him out of his current jam so it wouldn’t do to bite her head off. Literally. “To be fair sweet, you haven’t been my girlfriend for at least a couple of decades, and even then it was a pretty... casual arrangement.”

Vix gave Spike a forced smile, and said through gritted teeth, “It wasn’t that casual darling.”

Spike coughed and tried to sneakily pull his arm out from under the clamping grip of Vix. “Well, maybe this is a conversation we could save for another time, prehaps when we’re not in hell? Even though this is one of the nicer dimensions... no one’s tried to eat my entrails... yet, me an the slayer should be goin.”

Spike went to take Buffy’s arm but she dodged away from him. Hurt and general anger mingling on her face. Vix was clearly affronted, “Well. That’s fine then. I can take you now if you want to go.” She suddenly brightened. “I haven’t been to the human dimension since the last time we were there, do you remember Will? That big party in ‘78? It’ll be nice to visit some old haunts.”

Buffy found her voice and said, with more venom then was strictly necessary, “You don’t need to come back with us, I brought a spell, Spikes gonna open up a portal, you can stay here. In demon land.”

Vix smiled sweetly at Buffy, “I couldn’t possibly let you go to all the trouble of a spell, not when I can pop us back in a second. All you’d have to do is think of where you want to be, and presto!”


Spike took a resisting Buffy to the side a little, “Buffy luv, I can tell this isn’t gonna be what you want to hear, but we should take up the daft bints offer, you’ve been here for half an hour already, by the time we cast the spell it’ll be another half an hour, if the time difference between the dimensions is as long as you said your little pals will be startin to worry. How about we get back now, argue later?”

Buffy stared at him for long seconds. “Ok, lets go then”. By the tone of her voice Spike knew they would most definitely be arguing later.

Buffy had to hold Vix hand in order for her to teleport them back and couldn’t resist squeezing it as hard as she could. She felt a sadistic satisfaction at hearing a bone crack and Vix gasp in pain. Vix probably would have retaliated, but by then they were crossing dimensions sickeningly fast, and when they landed Buffy pulled her hand, and the rest of her body, away from clutchability distance.

Vix glared as she rubbed the already healing hand. “Really slayer, childish much?”

Buffy was all wide eyed innocence, “Sorry, did I hurt you? It’s all those slayer muscles, I just don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

Spikes mind immediately drifted to a place where all those slayer muscles were very well occupied...
As though she had known what he was thinking Buffy chose that moment to elbow him in the ribs. He was more than a little disgruntled at having to drag himself back to his currently less than pleasant reality, where he had two highly strung women expecting answers.

Buffy had quickly realised that though they were definitely in the same graveyard the portal spell had been cast from, Giles Willow and Xander were long gone. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed since they’d been there, but guessed that it was maybe a week or a little less. She sighed, they were probably mad with worry now, and it was quite a long walk to Giles', why oh why hadn’t she bought a cell phone already?

Vix was looking backward and forward between Spike and the slayer, neither of them were paying her any attention and she wasn’t very amused about it. “You’re welcome” she said pointedly.


Spike gave her a reluctant smile, “Thanks sweet, ‘preciate you doin that for us.” Vix beamed at him, and, very obviously, tugged downwards at her shimmery top, exposing even more of her impressive cleavage.

Spike quickly averted his gaze, though looking was damn tempting he had no wish to antagonise the slayer even more. “Uh, well, the slayer and I need to go see her watcher, let him know she’s all alive and I’m still undead and all that... Then we’d better go see her mum, make sure she hasn’t given up on Buffy and taken in some weird replacement stray...” Spike felt like a bloody prat for rambling on, but he wasn’t sure what else to do.


Vix interrupted, “So is that your not so much polite as blatantly obvious and kinda rude way of getting rid of me?”

Buffy grinned widely, “Pretty much. Buh bye now.”

Vix smiled sweetly back. “Ok then, I can take a hint.” She turned to Spike and put on her most seductive voice, “I’ll let you take care of your business tonight, and then we can have all of tomorrow for pleasure darling.”

Buffy took a step forward, her fisted hands rising up in readiness for some beating.

Spike jumped in before her, “Yeah, sure sweet, we’ll catch up tomorrow or something. Could go for a drink or summat. You know. As friends.”

Vix winked at him and said in a patronising tone, aimed at Buffy, “Oh sure. As friends. I’ll meet you at your place. See you then!” With a cheery wave she sashayed off into the night.

Buffy snorted. “Stupid demon girl, she forgot to ask where your place is.”

Spike wisely kept to himself that he was pretty sure Vix wouldn’t need directions to find him.


Once Vix was out of sight Buffy whirled on Spike. “I’m gonna check in with mom and Giles and then you and me are gonna have a talk Mr.” She started stomping off in the direction she assumed home was. Spike caught up with her, but stayed slightly back, opting to stay silent and watch the way her pert little ass wiggled in undisturbed peace for a bit.

She looked back at him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”
Spike smiled innocently. “I was just thinkin, you could always ring Giles instead of flouncing off to his place.”

Buffy glared at him, “Oh yeah! Of course, I should have thought of that. I should have rung him on my magical, invisible, non-existent phone!”

Spike’s eyebrows rose a little, “Or you could use mine?”

Buffy looked at the slim black cell phone he was holding out to her, spluttered for a bit, then snatched it and started dialling.

Spike couldn’t help his lip quirking upwards. “Know your pissed at me luv, but there’s no need to be so shirty.”

Buffy covered the mouth piece of the ringing phone and hissed, “Damn right I’m mad at you, and I’ll be shirty if I want to! I’ll be the shirty-ist!” her little tirade might have continued but just then Giles answered the phone. Spike could feel the older man’s relief in waves, Buffy had to reassure him more than once that all her limbs were in place, and though she had seemed to have acquired more of a tan she was otherwise unaffected by her time in hell. With a dark look at Spike she told Giles the mission had been a success, in that Spike was back and, for the moment, unharmed. He didn’t want to ask what the implied threat meant. Buffy asked briefly after the others, and was relieved, and a little surprised, that her mom had believed she was on a ‘special slayer retreat’ all this time and hadn’t been too worried. Seeing as how she hadn’t told her mom this, and hadn’t taken any clothes with her when she left the house Buffy figured Joyce had just been happy in denial land, reasoning that if she didn’t think her daughter was in danger then she wouldn’t be. Buffy assured Giles that she was just going to do a quick patrol, and make sure no nasties had taken advantage of her absence, then head home. She promised she’d pop by in the morning and fill him in on all the details. Just before she hung up she stepped a little away from Spike and whispered something down the phone.


Spike, grateful for his vampire hearing, couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard her ask,

“Giles, what does shirty mean?”



Buffy said her goodbyes, chucked Spikes phone at his head and stalked off. Knowing he’d follow she called over her shoulder, “For the record I could be a lot more shirty if I wanted.”


They walked in silence for a bit. Just when things were starting to be uncomfortably tense Spike spoke up,
“Look slayer, about Vix, we used to run in the same circles, got introduced by a demon pal of mine back in the 20’s. We’re mates more than anythin. We tried the whole couple thing an it didn’t work too well, Vix is the jealous type see, so we became just mates who-“


“Occasionally sleep together? Possibly in uniforms of some kind?” Buffy’s sarcastic tone didn’t hide the hurt.

“For god sake pet! I’m a bloke for crying out loud, and half vampire to boot. I’m not gonna lie and say I’ve never been with her, but I haven’t been with her for years, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

“She said she was your girlfriend.”


“Yeah, well I said she’s the jealous type, and bloody possessive an all, but it’s pretty hard to be in a relationship with someone you haven’t seen for twenty years. She’s a friend, and she’s been a good friend to me. She’s helped me out over the years-“

Buffy snorted but Spike chose to ignore it and plough on, “An I don’t really see what the problem is. I found myself stuck in a hell dimension, figured I’d better get back to you- to Sunnyhell- right quick, and I knew she’d be able to sort it for me so I looked her up.”

Buffy refused to look at him and he growled with frustration, “What’s the bloody problem? It’s not as if you and me- we- you know, were just- and you have the big ol pile of hair gel for company anyway, and I just don’t get it!”

Buffy could kind of see his point. It wasn’t as if she and Spike were a couple, or anything like. Occasional little fantasies did not a relationship make. She still had feelings for Angel, despite what he had done and all she had found him to be. She had no right to question who Spike might have been with, especially when it was with someone he’d known since the time her grandparents were born. She was still hurt though. Really hurt. But she realised examining the source of that hurt was probably not the best idea at the moment, she still had other questions she wanted answered.

She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest, but she let them drop so that one was gently brushing against Spikes when they moved. He barely grazed her hand with his own and through the rush of dizzying blood to her head at the skin to skin contact Buffy knew that this particular little disagreement was forgotten. So she decided to start another one up right away.

“How come you never told me you’re mated to Drusilla?”

Spike didn’t seem surprised by the statement, but did pull his hands into the pockets of his duster. His voice was hard to read as he said, “So, the great poofs been talkin then? Wondered what he’d say about me. Pretty sure it wasn’t good”.

Buffy shook her head, “He didn’t want to tell me anything about you, about the past you guys have, but I didn’t give him a choice. I said he had to tell me everything, or I’d finish running that sword through his chest.”

Spike stopped abruptly, and raised a speculative eyebrow, “Huh, s’that right? Suppose it’d be wishful thinkin to ask if he’s just a broodin pile of dust now?”

Buffy gave him a small smile, “He told me everything, and I think he was pretty honest about it. At least, I couldn’t have been anymore disgusted by him when he finished. I haven’t- I haven’t actually seen him since. I’m not sure whether I want to. I know it wasn’t him who treated you so...I guess badly is like a massive understatement. I know it was Angelus, and not the man, vampire I loved, but I still don’t know if I could look at him the same way.”

Spike considered saying something about Angels two personas not being as separate as he claimed, but seeing that tears had gathered in Buffy’s eyes he decided to let it go for now. She’d been through enough heartbreak.

“If he told you everythin pet, then you can probably understand why I wasn’t doin cartwheels over the idea of tellin you myself? It might have been a lifetime ago, but some things are still too hard to talk about.”

Buffy nodded. “But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me about you and she-of-the-unbalanced-mind-and-wacked-out-doll-fixation.”

Spike smirked at her description before giving a heavy sigh. Without warning he suddenly dropped to the grass beneath their feet, lying on his back, with his head propped up on his arms. He didn’t answer, but looked at the stars.

Without needing to think about it, other than hoping she didn’t get grass stains on her coat, Buffy lay beside him.
They lay like that for a while, Spike occasionally pointing out star formations and giving them ridiculous or dirty names. Just when Buffy had given up hoping for an answer he said,

“When I was younger I didn’t know much about who I was. What I was. I was half human, half vamp, part slayer. But my mum was dead, I didn’t have any one to turn to except vamps for answers and support.” He scoffed, “not that I got a lot of support but still. I didn’t know anythin about vampire customs or ways other then what they told me. I didn’t really know what claimin another vamp entailed til Dru claimed me. When I did understand though I wasn’t sorry for it. It was almost nice, the idea of belongin to someone forever an all that. Dru was a fruit loop, sure, but she was my fruit loop. Well, I thought so anyway, til I realised she'd always be daddy’s little nutcase”

Buffy’s heart felt heavy as she asked, “So, I’m assuming you didn’t dust her that night. Seeing that you belong to her forever?”

“I don’t anymore.” Spike rolled on his side so that he could look at Buffy directly. She suppressed a shudder at the intensity of his gaze. “I didn’t dust her slayer. I could have done, should have done no doubt, but I didn’t. I don’t love her anymore but I can’t kill her either. I broke the claim though, so I don’t think she’ll be back for me again.”

Buffy tried to not sound hopeful. “You broke the claim? I thought they were like totally unbreakable things? Like a always and forever kinda dealy?”

“They are, usually, but they have to be renewed pretty regular to stay strong, and we hadn’t renewed ours in a hundred years. And I’d looked into how you break them, it’s somethin I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Buffy let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding and couldn’t think of anything better to say then, “Oh. Good.”

“So we all good slayer?”

Despite the fact she really had no reason to be, she was still annoyed with him, particularly when she thought of the skanky ho bag that was Vix, but when he smiled at her, in that crooked way he did, she was able to shelve the annoyance and enjoy properly, for the first time since she found him in hell, that she had him back.

“Yeah. We’re good.”

Spike rose gracefully to his feet and extended her a hand. She took it and the accompanying headrush had nothing whatsoever with being pulled upright. Spike leaned in close to her, and brushed her hair behind her ear. Instead of letting go right away he played with the lock, twisting it round his finger. Buffy felt the heat rise in her face, spreading throughout her body, against her will her breath started coming out in shallow pants.
When Spike spoke next his usual, playful tone had all but vanished, leaving something raw in its wake. “I should have said before pet, thank you for coming to rescue me. It was a damn stupid thing to do, puttin yourself in danger like that, and me an Rupes will be havin serious words about his part in it, but thank you, all the same.”

Despite the delightful butterflies that were tumbling all round her stomach Buffy managed to sound sulky as she replied, “Not that you needed my help. I should have realised the saviour of slayers wouldn’t need to be saved. By me anyway. Skanky red headed ho’s with bad bangs on the other hand-“

Spike silenced her by running the finger that had been playing in her hair along her jaw, sliding up to brush lips that were suddenly desperate for his touch. “I might not have needed saving luv, but it felt good to be saved by my slayer, all the same.”

Buffy’s voice was suddenly husky. “Well, it was the least I could do, after what you did for me. You could have let me kill Angel, after what he did to you I’m surprised you didn’t.”

Spike’s eyes seemed to glow, the emotions in them ebbing and flowing like moonlight playing on the sea. “Couldn’t let you do that luv. Not cos I give a fig about captain forehead, cos I really really don’t, but I’d never want you to have to do something that would make you hurt like that.”

Spikes hand was cupping Buffy’s face now and she leaned into his sublime touch, “And yet you let me watch you get sucked to hell. Stupid vampire.”

The surprise on Spikes face was evident. He tilted his head to one side, and dared moving just a little closer to her. Buffy’s body responded immediately, and with a violence she’d never experienced. Her heart, which had already been beating rapidly, went into overdrive, while she flushed with an intense heat that seemed to be growing in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth went dry and it was only with a force of will that she managed to stop herself lunging for him.

Her hand shot out to grab his side, and then-

A scream rent the air in two.


Spike pulled away and turned in the direction of the noise, whilst silently cursing in every language he knew.

Buffy was shaking with suppressed emotion and disappointment. “What is it now?”

Spike turned to her with a grin. “Vamps, about five of them, up ahead. Fancy doin a bit of killin then pet?”

Buffy made expressive eyes, “I could definitely do with an energy release about now.”

Spike leered and stuck his tongue out at her, “A spot of violence will have to do for tonight slayer, first one there gets dibs on the ‘nasties’!

Spike ran off, and with a very disgruntled sigh, his slayer ran after him.

Buffy woke the next morning after having the first night of deep and dreamless sleep she’d had since Angel’s soul had first gone AWOL.

She was a little achy, but it was the good ache, of vampires well slain.

She and Spike had dusted the vamps with ease, having time for enjoyable rounds of quips and innuendoes with each other between stakings. It had just been dumb, irritating luck that they had ended up so close to Buffy’s house when they were done. Rather than picking up where they’d almost left off before they were interrupted, Spike had told her to go home to her mom. Before Buffy had had time to protest he was halfway down the street. Only the very promising way he said ‘See you tomorrow slayer’ had kept her from hauling his ass back over for the kiss she was all of a sudden desperate for.

Now it was tomorrow and Buffy lay in bed considering her strange feelings.

Angel had been her first love. She had loved him. But did she still? She wasn’t sure. She hoped he was ok, wherever he was, but she didn’t want to see him. At all.

A little voice in her mind questioned why she had ever loved him, why had she been so drawn to him. She didn’t find the answers as easily as she thought she would. Really, she and Angel had never had much in common. She had changed for him, trying to like the things that he liked to please him, but he had never really done the same for her. The thought that he made her laugh was superseded by the thought that he hadn’t really, and he’d made her cry far more often.

Was it physical then, the basis of her love for Angel? He was hot, sure, in a tall dark and handsome way. He’d had that whole air of mystery thing about him too which had seemed so appealing at first. On reflection though he really had been too tall for comfortable making out. They hadn’t kissed a whole lot but when they had it had led to major achy neck. And he didn’t really smile much. His expression had been so closed down and serious most the time. Buffy wasn’t sure now whether there had been any real heat between them. Everything they had done together had been nice, comforting, loving and sweet, but it hadn’t been firey or particularly passionate. It hadn’t been magic. She hadn’t ever felt the desperate urge with him to jump his bones and it had been so long since he had touched her in an intimate way she could barely remember what it felt like.

And yet she could remember exactly how she’d felt the very first time she and Spike had touched...

Spike. Why did even thinking of him suddenly make her feel so hot and flustered? A look from him made her feel weak, and then empowered and strong at the same time. Though she was desperate to hide it from him, when she was with Spike she wanted to touch him all the time. All over. And all over again. When he laughed at her or mocked her she wanted to hit him. And then kiss him better. A lot. He brought out the best in her, the worst in her, all of her. He brought her out of herself and it was exhilarating. She had never met anyone like him, and she doubted she ever would again.

She wasn’t sure what it was she was feeling for him though. Lust, undoubtedly, big lusty feelings were defiantly there. But was it more than that? She thought about him all the time. Even though there had often been big gaps between seeing him since they had first met, when he had been sucked to hell (and she thought she would never see him again) it hurt more then she would have thought possible. She had never, in her life, physically missed another person as much. It made her sick in her heart, in her head. But what did that mean? Was it love? It was so different to what she had felt for Angel, and despite the way things had turned out between them, she was sure she had loved Angel. So was what she felt for Spike love? Or was it something else? And how did he feel about her?


Buffy could have lain in bed for the next week and still not puzzled out all she was thinking, but a knock on her door jolted her out of her revive.

Her mom poked her head round the door. “Honey, I know you’re tired from ‘slayer camp’” she rolled her eyes, “but its lunchtime, and Mr Giles and your friends are here.”

Buffy sat up straighter in bed and started frantically brushing her fingers through her hair to tame it while trying to sound disinterested. “Uh, what friends mom?”
Her mom tried to hide her smile, “Well, Willow and Xander. Were you expecting someone else?”


Buffy failed to hide her disappointed face from her mom as she stopped worrying about whether she looked nice and pulled a sweater on over her pj’s.
“I’ll be right down.”


Giles, Willow and Xander pounced on Buffy the minute she entered the living room for a delighted group hug. Giles had to pull away to breathe after a minute, but his relief at finding her all in one piece after her jaunt in hell clear.

“Buffy! I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you, you stupid stubborn girl. I’ve been going out of my mind, thinking I’d condemned you to-“

Giles broke off when he noticed Joyce standing at the entrance to the room with raised eyebrows.

He pulled away from her and flushed, “uh, thinking I’d uh, condemned you to a very dull time at, um... slayer camp.”
Joyce snorted. “Really Giles, I might not be that perceptive sometimes but I’m certainly not stupid. Slayer camp indeed!”


Buffy tried to stop herself smiling as Giles tried one more lame attempt to cover up her activities. “I really don’t know what you mean Joyce, Buffy has been spending the last week at a retreat, in the um desert. Learning about slaying... demons and things.”


Joyce walked over and patted him on the arm. She used the special mom voice she had when she was trying to be kind to Buffy when she failed a test or something, “It was a nice idea Giles, it really was. Trying to stop me worrying was very sweet. I just think it’s a little too much of a coincidence that Buffy happened to go off to ‘slayer camp’ for a week, and when she comes back Spike just happens to be back too, despite the fact he had apparently been ‘sucked to hell’, which I would have thought was a pretty permanent thing.”

Giles was spared replying by Buffy chiming in, “Mom, how’d you know Spike was back? We – he only got back last night.”

Joyce smiled knowingly at Buffy’s interest. “I know because he stopped by this morning. He was hoping you’d be awake, wanted to welcome you back from ‘camp’. When I told him you were asleep he said to leave you be. He stayed for a little while and we had a very interesting chat about how very brave, but how annoyingly stubborn, my daughter can be.”


Buffy ignored this pointed remark. “Spike was here?? Why didn’t you wake me up? Did he say if he was coming back?”
The others watched Buffy with wide eyes, she seemed very agitated all of a sudden.


Joyce wandered over to the fireplace and started rearranging some ornaments, deliberately waiting before she answered. She had been devastated when Spike had, for all intents and purposes, died. Joyce considered herself to be a pretty good judge of character, and there was something about Spike which appealed to her. Beneath his assured and cocky character he seemed so insecure, so hurt by all life had thrown at him. As well as being enjoyable company he tugged on her maternal instincts and over the last few months she had come to look at him as a type of surrogate son. He had seemed to secretly really enjoy her mothering, and in return had shown an interest in her life and work that few people ever showed. She had suspected from almost the first time she met him that there was something between him and Buffy. Though they tended to bicker for the majority of the time they were together the sparks flying around had been hard to ignore.

Though unsure at first, she had come to think that if anything did ever develop between them it might not be the worst thing. He protected Buffy and was certainly a far better choice than the waste-of-good-space Angel, and seeing as he was at least half human the possibility of nice chubby grandchildren (in the distant future) wasn’t completely out of the question.

After seeing Buffy’s reaction to losing Spike Joyce realised that the connection between them had been stronger then even she realised. Buffy had been destroyed, completely beyond reaching. It had taken over a week for her to do anything other than sob. Then the change had been dramatic. One minute Joyce had been thinking that her daughter was too lost to be found again, and the next the light came back on behind her eyes. It was as though she had suddenly remembered something which had been pushed to the back of her mind. She had leapt off her bed, and thrown herself at her desk, snatching up a clearly much read piece of paper. Her eyes had scanned it quickly before she found what she was looking for and smiled as though life was suddenly bearable again. The reason for this change could have only been the single sentence which Buffy had reverently read aloud. “Hell isn’t always the end.”

Joyce had suspected that Buffy’s sudden focus and interest in the library had had something to do with getting Spike back. She had therefore been overjoyed, but not massively surprised, when he had turned up on her doorstep that morning.

Buffy pulled her attention back to the present with a slightly sharply spoken, “Mom? Did he say he was coming back?”


In the end there was no need for Joyce to answer. The front door was flung open and Spike himself flew in, slamming the door behind him before running his hands through his hair. “Mornin”.

In all the drama that was Spikes entrance nobody but Joyce noticed Buffy’s suddenly ashen face, or the way she shrieked and ran into the kitchen to hide until she could flee back upstairs.

Giles stepped forward and shook Spikes hand warmly, and for a little longer then was necessary. Whilst he had been against the idea of Buffy going to get him back he really was so very pleased to see him. Willow gave him a tentative smile, and little wave. Xander grunted.


Joyce put her hands on her hips and tried to scowl at him “Why exactly did you feel it was necessary to burst in, in such a way, and slam the door so loudly?”


Spike flashed her a grin in appology, “Sorry bout that Joyce, just someone I was tryin to avoid started followin me here, didn’t want them to see where I was goin so I thought I’d better get in here right quick. Didn’t mean to cause offence.”


Joyce found his smile as infections as usual. “Uh huh. Well, I’m going to leave you lot to it, I’m sure you have lots to talk about. Buffy seems to have popped upstairs for a moment, but I’m sure she’ll be right back.”


Spike stopped looking around the room and flopped in a chair instead. He gave Giles a hard stare. “Seein as how the slayers not here for the moment I can ask you just what the bloody hell you were thinkin, letting her prance off into some hell dimension. Anythin could of happened to the silly bint.”


Instead of reacting with righteous anger, as he would of done with anyone else, Giles flushed a deep red. “Believe me Spike, as glad as I am that you’re back, and uh unscathed, I didn’t allow Buffy to go willingly, I would never actively put her in more danger then she already always is. But, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, it’s very hard to dissuade Buffy from doing anything she wants to.”


Giles was visibly relieved when Spike grinned at him. “Your damn right about that Rupes. You’ve certainly had your hands full with her.”


Giles sat down with a weary sigh. “Tell me about it.”


Xander decided that he’d been quiet long enough and pushed his hatred of Spike aside for the time being. “So G-man, shouldn’t we get down to all the meeting-y goodness? I’ve got a box of doughnuts here just dying to be sacrificed for the greater good.”

Willow wrinkled her nose at her friend, “uh, I don’t want any of the doughnuts with strawberry jelly in them anymore. The red stuff would make the whole sacrifice thing a bit too real. And gross.”


Before Xander could reply he was surprised to see Spike leap from his chair and stare out into the hallway, a very intent (and was that hungry?) look on his face.


Xander turned to see what he was looking at and his mouth gapped open in a comically unattractive manner.


While they had been downstairs talking Buffy had snuck off to her room and been very busy upstairs. Quickly shedding her pj’s she had pulled on her favourite underwear and hunted through the closet to find the outfit she had bought weeks ago (secretly with Spike in mind) and had never worn. The shirt was tight fitting, black and lacy, showing just the right amount of cleavage, while the skirt was black leather, and slit up the side to show off a teasing bit of thigh. The thought that she looked far too dressy for a summers day hanging at home with her friends flitted through her head, but was quickly dismissed. If she wanted to find out how Spike felt about her (and she really really did) then this was the outfit to help.
She brushed her hair until it hung in soft, gentle waves and reached for her makeup bag before hesitating. She remembered Spike saying once (after Buffy had yelled at him for flirting with Cordelia) that he hated girls who wore too much makeup, that it made them look so false. Buffy settled for slicking on some dark red lip gloss and left it at that.

She was well rewarded for her efforts. Seeing her in the hallway had caused an expression to come on Spikes face that had her shockingly and instantly aroused. She tried to keep her cool and pretend she didn’t feel the heat of his eyes boring into her.

“Hey guys, sorry I was all absentee Buffy for a bit there, now I’m all about the serious meeting stuff. Let’s get down to business!”


Buffy sat on the sofa next to Willow, ignoring Xanders guppy fish expression and the disapproving fatherly way Giles was looking at her.

She didn’t notice Spike rearranging himself as sneakily as he could under the cover of his duster.


Giles nodded, quite happy to get down to work and ignore whatever teenage hormone party was going on around him.

“Right, well, first things first, I’d like you, the both of you, to tell me what happened in uh, hell”

Giles whipped out his trusty notebook as soon as Buffy started talking, and was a little disappointed that her trip to hell didn’t seem particularly eventful. He became quite interested though at Spikes offhand comment that by now he knew how to ‘avoid the rougher parts of hell’. Giles raised his eyebrows as Buffy unkindly described the ‘skanky ho of a justice demon’ who had, in fact, brought them safely home.


When Giles pressed for more details Spike squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, “Vix is an old friend, an I might not agree with what she does for a livin, but I’m not gonna kill her for it. She might be a demon, but it’s the humans who wish for her to do vengeance. She gets retribution for people who have lost a family member to murder, which, all things considered, I’d say is fair enough. She’s not really evil.”


Buffy snorted.

For once something seemed to have clicked in Xander’s head. Turning to Spike he said, “If she’s all un evil like you say she is then how come you were so keen to get away from her this morning? It was her, wasn’t it, who had you tearing in here all bat out of hell like?”


Spike suddenly looked as though he wished hell would suck him back in again. Buffy looked murderous but her voice was a deadly calm as she said, “Spike, may I speak to you upstairs for a moment?”


Giles, who had no idea what was going on, said “Buffy, I really think we should focus on the matters at hand, now you’ve told us all you can about what happened I have some disturbing news I-“

He stopped abruptly when he realised Buffy had stormed upstairs, with Spike very reluctantly following.
He looked at Willow and Xander, “What the bloody hell was that all about?”


Buffy waited until they were in her bedroom, with the door closed, before she let rip.
“What were you doing seeing her this morning? How the hell did she find you so quickly?? Is she staying around here? Were you lying to me about her? Are you really just ‘friends’?” all of these questions were fired out in quick succession in a voice that steadily got more hysteric.


Spike tried to take Buffy’s hand, and grabbed at it when she pulled away. The feeling of his cool hand in her warm one sent throbbing sensations all over her body, and turned her head a little mushy.

“Slayer, Buffy, If you’d actually been listenin to the whelp downstairs you would of heard him say that I was runnin away from Vix. Runnin here, to you. I don’t know how she found me, but she’s got odd ways of doin stuff like that, and as soon as I could sense her comin I high tailed it outta there and got here as quickly as I could.”

Buffy, as lost as she was in the hypnotic pull of his endless eyes, heard every word he said. The fact that he had run to her made her anger vanish in an instant, to be replaced by much more pleasant feelings. With the hand that wasn’t holding hers Spike cupped Buffys face, letting out a sensuous growl when she leaned into it and stepped closer. He pulled her head to his, and lent his forehead against hers.

“Don’t know what the soddin hell it is about you pet, well, actually I’ve got some ideas, but you make me feel like a bloody nancy boy teenager. Can’t stop thinkin about you, bout wantin to be near you.”


Buffy raised her head so that her eyes were looking straight into his. Whatever she had been about to say died in her throat, there was no more need for words.

She didn’t know who moved first but all of a sudden those lips she had fantasised about were crushing hers in a kiss that rocked the foundations of her being.
She couldn’t think anything coherently other than that this must be what heaven was like.

Spike’s lips were insistent, he unleashed all of his pent up tension and desire against her willing mouth. She ran her tongue over his and got her first taste of him. He bit down on her lip with blunt teeth and she moaned with want. Spike wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so close to him it was no longer obvious where he ended and she began.
Buffy’s heart exploded. Reacting purely on instinct she kissed with a fury she didn’t even know she possessed.

Spikes hand was suddenly raking across her naked thigh and Buffy thought she might collapse there and then. Desperate to touch more of him she slipped her hand under his tshirt, and his yearning hiss made her come undone inside.



Buffy has forgotten her friends downstairs, who were waiting for her to return. She had forgotten that anything in the world existed but the two of them and this thing that they were sharing which mere words could not describe.

Her memory came crashing back though with the very loud knocking on the door and Giles impatient voice. “Buffy, Spike, I’m sure whatever your discussing is very important, but I do actually have something very urgent to tell you, and other things I’d like to do today, so If you wouldn’t mind coming back downstairs I would appreciate it.”


Buffy didn’t think she could speak, so Spike shouted back, in a voice so hoarse and laced with want that Buffy thought the very sound could make her come, “Be right there Rupes”.


They heard Giles stomp down the stairs and reluctantly, very reluctantly, let go of each other. Buffy still felt pretty out of it, she wasn’t sure if she would ever come fully back down to earth.

She looked at him with wide eyes and cleared her throat. “Well. That was new for us.”


Spike laughed and ran a shaking hand down her cheek. “Yeah luv, that it was. We’ll talk about this later ok?”


Buffy pouted. “No talking, me want kissing.”


Spike groaned and it took all of his willpower not to take that pouting lip back into his mouth. “Later slayer, later.”


With the promise of later and Spikes hand resting gently on the small of her back Buffy led the way down the way stairs, trying, and failing, to wipe the ear splitting smile and dazed expression from her face.

Once back downstairs Buffy deliberately squashed herself on the sofa between Willow and Xander, so there would be no way Spike could sit beside her. She wasn’t sure she could have kept her hands to herself if he’d been too close. Spike noticed this, as he noticed everything, but didn’t comment beyond a raised eyebrow and quirk of the lips.

He sauntered over to the fireplace and lent against it, “Sorry about that Rupes, me an the slayer were a bit tangled up there-“


“With the words!” Buffy chimed in shrilly, “Me and Spike had a difference of opinion and the words got all... tangly and stuff.”

Spike poked his tongue out at her, causing Willow to elbow Buffy in the ribs in a way which just screamed ‘we’re going to be talking about this later!”

Buffy shot Spike a warning glare Giles pretended not to see. Though Spike was far and away a thousand times better then Angel, he was still at least partly a demon, and Giles preferred to pretend there was nothing more between him and Buffy then camaraderie. The fact that he was fairly sure he’d heard ‘kissing noises’ coming from Buffy’s bedroom moments before was neither here nor there. Spike could have been merely teaching Buffy some sort of demon dialect he was not familiar with....

Giles cleared his throat, and mind. “Right, well, now we are all assembled and not, ah tangled, in any way perhaps we could get back to the rather pressing matter at hand?”
When he received no objections he continued, “Yesterday afternoon a rather disturbing discovery was made in some woods on the outskirts of town. Three bodies had been dumped there, torn up almost beyond recognition.”


He got Buffy’s attention at once. “Torn up? So are we thinking it’s a demon, or demons? Not vamps?”


Giles sighed. “That would be a fair assumption to make, if not for the timing.”


“Timing?” Willow ventured.


Spike shook his head, clearing the images he’d just seen from his mind. He gave Giles a hard look. “These bodies aren’t fresh are they?”


Giles didn’t wonder at Spikes perception, but simply shook his head.

Buffy looked back and forth between the two men.


Xander piped up, “So are we meaning not fresh as in day old doughnut, or not fresh as in cafeteria food?”
Giles gave Xander a despairing look. “Not fresh as in the bodies are over a week old.”


The significance of this time was not lost on Buffy. “So they were killed before I went to get Spike out of hell?” A pang of guilt shot through her. She had been so focused, so consumed with working on a way to get Spike back that she hadn’t patrolled at all. If she had, if she had done her duty, she might have killed this thing, and those people might not have died.


Spike caught her eyes with his piercing blue ones. Though his lips didn’t move she felt him speaking to her. She felt his words inside her head, it was the weirdest sensation but it felt right, intimate and good at the same time. It was like he was giving her a mental hug. She was going to have to ask him how he did it. “You can’t save everyone Slayer. But you’ve saved the whole bloody world, more than once. You do more than your bit. Cut yourself some slack yeah?”


The guilt didn’t vanish but she gave him a small smile. Looking at Spike, feeling the heat course through her body at the very sight of him, she couldn’t regret her decision. She needed Spike. It scared her to think how much.


Giles had been looking at Spike oddly throughout this silent exchange, but cleared his throat and carried on as though it hadn’t taken place. Willow and Xander had been talking in low voices, and hadn’t noticed anything at all.


“Well, it seems to me that these people were killed either the night you went to, ah, hell or on the night before or after.”


Buffy looked confused, “Why those specific nights?”


“Because those were the nights of the full moon.” Spike spoke quietly. If Buffy had been paying more attention to how he looked and not what he said she would have known that something was troubling him. Giles noticed and gave Spike a significant look, but he shook his head as if to say ‘later’.


Buffy raised an eyebrow, “Well? What makes the full moon so important?”


Spike sighed in exasperation. “Luv, you’re really gonna have to start hitting the books, your lack of knowledge about some stuff is kinda worryin.”


Buffy felt her anger flair up, but it died just as quickly when she heard Giles next words. “The full moons significant Buffy because it seems that we’re dealing with a werewolf.”


Willow let out a little gasp, and Xander went into full wide eyed shock mode. “A werewolf? Seriously? Just when I thought things around here couldn’t get anymore twilight zone.”


Buffy sighed in exasperation. “Isn’t anything that’s supposed to be a myth actually a god damn myth? I’m I gonna have to fight fairies at some point?”


Spike answered as though the question hadn’t been rhetorical. “Fairies aren’t fighter’s slayer, they’re more like harbingers, or messengers if you like. So unless you’re into the whole shoot the messenger bit than I don’t reckon you’ll be killin one too soon. Though they are aggravatin little buggers.”


Everyone looked at Spike with slack jaws, including Giles who was itching to pick up his abandoned journal and pen. It seemed the council’s record of magical, and maybe even demonic creatures, was seriously lacking. Giles was on the verge of asking Spike a question when Buffy got over her surprise and snarked at him. “Is there anything you don’t know everything about?”

Spike grinned, “Probably not slayer, an if there is it aint worth knowin.”


“Alright then, if you’re so clever, how d’you kill a werewolf? I’m guessing stakes won’t work.”


To Buffy’s surprise it was Xander who answered, “That’s easy Buffster, silver! Silver bullets are usually the best thing, shoot it right into their blood stream and voila, one dead dog.”

When Xander realised everyone was looking at him he blushed, and took an extra large bite of doughnut. “At least that’s how they say you kill them in the movies.”


Spike raised his eyebrows. “Thank you Harris, for
introducing me to an entirely new sensation”


Xander eyed Spike suspiciously, “What’s that?”


“Being almost impressed with you.”


Xander wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or not.


Giles hid his smile and explained. “Xander’s actually quite right. Silver is the best way to kill a werewolf. Though you can kill one with brute strength alone it’s very difficult, and dangerous. If they get close enough to bite you, you will become a werewolf too. If they get close enough to bite you several times, you’re... well, dead. It might seem callous to say this but we are actually fortunate the werewolf killed those it attacked, if it had merely bitten them we would have more to deal with.”


Buffy was confused by Giles’ gravity, and the heavy look Spike had on his face. “So what’s the big deal? I get some silver bullets, find this thing, shoot it and ta da! Job done.”


Giles ran his hand across his brow. “It’s not that simple I’m afraid Buffy. A werewolf is only a werewolf for the nights of the full moon. For the rest of the month they look and act like ordinary human beings. That’s what makes them so hard to track and find, they could be just about anyone.”


Buffy slumped. “Oh. Well that’s annoying.” She brightened suddenly, “But if they look like ordinary humans the rest of the month then they won’t be killing anyone will they? And we have a few weeks until the next full moon don’t we? So we have a while to find it.”


Giles nodded. “I was fortunate enough, or unfortunate enough, to see the bodies of the werewolf’s victims. I managed to procure a few strands of the beast’s hairs from them. I think the best course of action would be to find a spell that would let us use the hair to find the creature in human form. As they are one and the same I would assume that the essence of the werewolf would be identical to that of the human.”


“Do you think we could find a spell like that?” It was the first time Willow had spoken in a while. There was a strain to her voice Buffy didn’t miss.
Buffy looked hard at Willow. She was even paler than usual and her eyes had taken on a glassy sheen.


In a low voice Buffy asked, “Will? Are you ok?”


Willow nodded and gave Buffy a weak smile, “Just a bit upset about these deaths I guess.”


Buffy nodded, “Yeah, getting torn to bits isn’t a very nice way to go.” She didn’t notice the way Willows smile disappeared at her words as Giles had started talking again.


“I’m sure we will be able to find an appropriate spell, it will just take some dedicated research...” He ignored the loud groans of Buffy and Xander, “Which I really think we should begin as soon as possible.”


Buffy thought as quickly as she could, “Uh, actually Giles, me and Spike were gonna do some training, you know, spar and stuff. I haven’t trained since before the night in the mansion, so I’m a little out of shape.”


Spike put on his best mock polite voice. “I don’t think you look out of shape slayer. I’d say you look remarkably in shape.” His eyes sparkled, “Then again, probably won’t be able to tell for sure til we get down to some grunt work...”


Buffy shot him a murderous look. Giles was furiously polishing his glasses. “Ah, yes, well if you um think it would be better to do some training today then you have my leave to do so. We can get together tomorrow to get the research underway.”Buffy bounced off the sofa. “However-“ Buffy sat back down with a sigh. “Before you go I would like to have a quick word with Spike.”


Buffy’s eyes went saucer wide. “Why?”


Giles frowned at Buffy, “That is between Spike and I. We won’t be a moment.”


Buffy watched in panic as Giles went out to the yard. Her panic increased tenfold when she saw a wickedly grinning Spike going after him.


The moment Spike was out of Buffy’s eye line his smile dropped right away. He knew exactly why Giles wanted to talk to him and it had nothing to do with him stealing kisses from the slayer.


Giles’ voice was grave. “Tell me what you saw.”


Spike lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Well, I didn’t see much. It was during the next full moon, couldn’t tell you which night, and the slayer was outside a buidin I don’t recognise. She was crouched over a body, which I couldn’t see, and the werewolf was comin up right behind her. That was it, didn’t see anymore.”


Giles ran his hand across his brow. “I’m assuming because you’ve been able to tell me this so fully that this future isn’t set? It is one we can alter?”


“Damn right its one we can alter. I plan on alterin it big bloody time.”


Giles smiled a little at Spikes confidence. He didn’t seem to think Buffy was in any immediate danger. And if he thought that, that was good enough for Giles. “Are you planning to tell Buffy what you saw?”


Spike raised his eyebrows, “Course I am, she can’t very well defend herself from a threat she doesn’t know is comin can she?”


Giles sighed. “It might worry her unduly though, especially as we will hopefully remedy the situation before somebody else gets hurt.”


Spike shook his head. “I like you watcher, I do, but you’re bloody short sighted when it comes to the slayer. You expect her to face the forces of darkness, and do it without makin any mistakes, and yet you treat her like a child, decidin what’s best for her, what she should and shouldn’t know. She’s the slayer for Christ sake, not a little girl. No matter how horrible a truth isn’t it better to let her decide whether she can deal with it or not?”


Giles frowned, “I just want to do what’s best for her”.


“Yeah, I know you do, but I’d reckon the slayer should be the judge of what’s best for her.”


Giles leaned heavily on the porch railing. “I’m her watcher Spike, it’s my job to protect her.”


Spike leant next to him. “No Rupert, it’s your job to teach her. She’s the Slayer. Protecting the world, and everyone in it, is her job, a bloody crappy job, but hers all the same. You can’t protect her. No one can.”


Giles gave Spike a small smile, “You can.”


Spikes returning smile was a little grim, “No. I can try.” He gave Rupert an awkward, but reassuring pat on the back. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll try my soddin hardest, I won’t let nothin happen if I can help it, but, in the end, it’s all on her.”


The two men were silent for a while.


Giles cleared his throat. “I take it you’ve had dealings with werewolves before?”


Spike nodded, “Met a couple here and there. I’d reckon we’re dealing with a new werewolf, one only recently bitten. The longer a person’s been a werewolf the more they learn to control the demonic side of them the way a vamp does. In a way that makes them more dangerous than the newly turned, the ones who run wild, with no humanity in them. They get calculating then, cunning with their kills or with who they turn. Some aren’t so bad though. I Know you might find this difficult to believe, what with all the clap trap the council feed you, but some don’t want to be killers. Some don’t even remember what they do when the full moon comes around, have no idea that they’ve done anybody any harm.”


Giles looked incredulous, so Spike dropped it and decided not to mention that one of his best poker buddies was one of those types of werewolves.


Buffy suddenly poked her head round the door. Her relief at seeing Spike, and not a big pile of Spike dust, was enormous. “Uh, you guys have been out here ages, everything... ok?”

Giles smiled at her, the affectionate, but dejected, smile of a father whose just learnt he can’t protect his daughter from the dark. “All fine thank you Buffy, was just asking Spike here to tell me anything he knows about werewolves, their habits and so on, that might prove helpful.”


“Oh!” Buffy grinned, “Well that’s great then! If your done can me and Spike go train now?”



Giles nodded, “Of course, but I want to see you ready to do some intensive researching tomorrow young lady.”



Buffy rolled her eyes and practically dragged Spike back into the house. “Aye aye captain.”


When they got back into the lounge Xander was still on the sofa, but Willow had gone.



“Where’s Willow?” Giles asked.


Xander was still ploughing away at the doughnuts, as no one else had seemed interested in them, and answered around a mouth full. “She left, said she was gonna meet Oz or something.”


“Oh blast! I had hoped that she would be willing to start doing some research today, it really would be good to get going with this as soon as possible.” Giles was very reluctant to ask Xander to start researching, without Willow’s influence the boy was often more of a hindrance then a help.



Spike grinned at Giles, “Look watcher, we’ll crack on with all the research and what not tomorrow, no one’s in any immediate danger from the beastie tonight. Why don’t you go home? It might be a little low brow for you, but there’s a Monty Python marathon on this afternoon.”


Giles blushed and muttered, “Well, I had set the tape recorder for it.”


Spikes grin grew, “Good man, I’ll be wantin to borrow those tapes off you at some point.”


Giles blushed harder. Though he found it easier to talk to Spike now, his hero worship was far from banished. “I suppose you’re right, starting tomorrow can’t hurt, as long as we really apply ourselves of course.” Giles hugged Buffy, “I’ll see you all tomorrow then”.


Buffy saw Giles off and was about to pounce on Spike when she remembered Xander. “Um, Xand me and Spike are gonna go train now.”


Xander narrowed his eyes at Spike. “Ok, I’ll come with you.”


“NO!” Buffy cry was instinctive and forceful. Xander looked hurt so Buffy tried to sound less harsh, “It’d be super boring for you, we’re not even gonna train out in the field, just gonna go to Spikes place and spar for a bit. Totally boring. Why don’t you go hang out with Cordelia or something instead?”



Xander still looked hurt, and pouty mouthed, “She’s out shopping. I don’t mind if it’s boring, would be better then kicking around at home. I’ll come with you.”


Spike laughed, “Not friggin likely whelp, I’m not havin you in my place! Got standards I have. Do what the slayer says and find some other puppies to play with. We’ve got stuff to do.”



The way he said the last words made Buffy shiver with anticipation. Luckily Xander was in too much of a huff to notice. He stood up and stomped to the door. “Fine then, I know when I’m not wanted. If you’d rather hang around with captain peroxide then with one of your best friends then that’s just fine. Especially when that friend hasn’t seen you for a week, and has been all worried about you. Whatever though.”


As desperate as she was to be alone with Spike Buffy did feel a little bad. “Sorry Xand, it’s just really important that I train, you know?” Xander nodded sadly and Buffy felt herself saying, “We’ll walk you back to yours on our way to Spikes though.”


Spike snorted. “We bloody well will not!”


Though she was already kicking herself for suggesting it, Buffy saw how Xander had perked up so she put her hand on her hip and said in her best slayer voice, “Yes we will.”


Spike looked daggers at Xander who was trying, and failing, not to smirk behind Buffy’s back. “It’s broad bloody daylight slayer, surely even the whelp won’t be able to get himself killed in a twenty minute walk!”


Buffy could understand his frustration, she wanted to be alone with Spike as quickly as possible too, so they could talk... and things. But Xander was one of her best friends, and she didn’t want him to feel unappreciated.


“That’s not the point, it would just be nice to have a walk and talk on the way, were heading in pretty much the same direction. I’m sure you two can manage it without biting each other’s heads off.”


“I wouldn’t count on it pet, I haven’t eaten today, right hungry I am. The thought of whelp doesn’t usually appeal to me, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers and all that.”


Buffy glared at Spike, so he rolled his eyes and barged past Xander to the door. “Whatever slayer, you walk with the whelp, me, I’ve got better things to do. If you wanna train you know where I’ll be.”


Buffy could only stare open mouthed as Spike threw the door open and stepped out into the mid afternoon light. She ran to the doorway to shout him back, but he was already gone.


“God, he’s a bit touchy isn’t he?” Xander couldn’t help but smile smugly at having driven Spike off.


All Buffy’s good intentions to spend some time with Xander vanished, and she could only beat herself up with the thought that she’d wasted perfectly good kissing time.


“Uh, sorry Xand, I really should go after him, but maybe we could hang out tonight? Go to the Bronze or something?”

She didn’t give him time to reply, but sprinted off in the direction she knew Spike had gone.




She caught up with him only when she got in sight of his apartment. Actually, she didn’t so much catch up with him as get caught by him.

She felt his special signature only a second before his arm shot out from the shadows of an alleyway, grabbing her round the waist and drawing her to him. She didn’t get the chance for words because his lips were immediately upon hers. Then she couldn’t have found words even if she’d wanted to.


It had only been hours since their last kiss but the memory of how incredible it had been was nothing compared to the actuality. Buffy had never been kissed this way before, she thought it could hardly be described as kissing, it was so much more, so powerful. His tongue battled with her own, fighting for dominance. He bit down on her lip and pulled it into his mouth. She groaned deep in her throat as he devoured her soul, and his answering growl sent her spiralling into ecstasy.


God the taste of him! She could live off the taste of his lips, his tongue, his mouth. And the way he felt pressing against her, his hands tangled in her hair and his body heavy, as insistent in its need to be joined as her own.

Every curve of her body melded seamlessly to his. Nothing had ever felt so perfect. They were both gasping for breath but couldn’t pull away from each other; a second apart was too long. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and thrust her fingers in the short curls at the nape of his neck. She was grateful for his strength, it was the only thing holding her upright.


Time had no meaning, it was just an endlessly perfect moment. At one point Spike shifted, and the evidence of his desire filled the join between her leather clad thighs. She whimpered, cursing stupid clothes, but couldn’t release him for long enough to get them out of the way.

Spike very nearly pulled her to the ground and ripped her clothes off with his teeth. Only the knowledge that he wanted to make it special for her stopped him.


When Spike finally pulled away from Buffy the sky was beginning to darken. It felt like they had been kissing for hours, but it hadn’t been long enough, it could never be long enough. Buffy was quaking with the need for him which had erupted within her. He was shaking too, ran his fingers down her face, her neck, her side. He was barely touching her, but she felt a pull from within, an aching awareness of him, it was painfully sweet.


The timber of his voice when he spoke had her almost praying that the world would end and leave only the two of them behind.


“That’s why I didn’t want to walk with Harris luv, wasn’t cos I can’t stand him, (though I can't) I just couldn’t wait... I needed to taste you... touch you. God you’re so beautiful pet, so bloody perfect. I couldn’t have restrained myself the whole walk back. You there and me not being able to hold you, soddin torture it would have been.”


Buffy’s eyes felt heavy, she couldn’t pull them away from his face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk anywhere with the others if you’re there again. We might have to make our own way to places from now on.”


He kissed her temple, the corner of her mouth, her neck, and nodded fervently. “I don’t reckon they’d enjoy the show they’d get otherwise.”


Buffy tried to still the shuddering breaths that his mummers on her neck inspired. “And we’d seriously slow them down.”


Spike laughed and drew back so he was holding her gently in his arms. One hand ran lightly along her side. “I think we might have to go inside now pet.”


He smiled at her wildly enthusiastic nod and raised an eyebrow. “Get your mind out of the gutter slayer, were going inside to spar, and nothin else. Not havin your watcher accuse me of slackin off in your trainin”



Buffy pouted in annoyance, and Spike couldn’t suppress his groan, or fight the urge to suck on that pouting lip. He pulled back though, before another kiss-a-thon could begin. When Buffy made to lean in to him he stopped her, “Later slayer, first we really should spar a bit, and I have got somethin to talk to you about.”


Buffy’s stomach took that moment to rumble loudly.


Spike smiled a little when she flushed. “And apparently you need to eat.” He tilted his head to the side and scrutinised her, “Apparently you need to eat a lot. You look bloody gorgeous pet, don’t get me wrong, but you don’t seem to have been lookin after yourself. Girls gotta eat. Slayer’s especially.”


Not wanting to think back to the time when she thought she’d lost him, and eating was something she’d been forced to do, Buffy just shrugged and said, “Haven’t had much of an appetite.”


Spikes eyes and the squeeze he gave her hand said he understood, he said lightly “Well I’m starved, for slayer mostly, but food would be good too. I’ll fix us something. Come on.”


Buffy was grinning at his comment and followed him to his front door.

Spike had gotten an apartment sorted out a couple of months back, when he knew he’d be in Sunnydale for more than the occasional visit. Buffy couldn’t understand how he afforded it, but if she ever asked he just gave her a look which said she was probably better off not knowing. When Buffy had first seen it it had been an empty shell, Spike had managed to turn it into a home quicker than she would have thought possible.


The basement had been made into a training room, with all the equipment Buffy had ever thought she’d need, and some more besides. The bathroom and kitchen were just up the stairs from it, both were of a reasonable size and decorated in the mix of dark and bright colours Spike favoured.
The front door opened into a massive, but cosy, living space- Buffy’s favourite place to be. It wasn’t sprawling or cold like the mansion had been, the ceilings were low and Spike had covered the walls with an eclectic mix of punk rock posters, tapestries and strips of black and red fabric.
There were low tables everywhere; covered with books, candles and a variety of weird objects Spike had picked up on his travels. The floor was a patchwork of rugs. There was a slouchy sofa in front of a television (Spikes main, and favourite, luxury) and the back wall was dominated by a four poster bed.
Buffy had her fingers intertwined with Spikes as he opened the door, but she entered ahead of him. The first thing her eyes were drawn to were the bed. And then she saw what, or rather who, was on the bed.


The giddy laughter she’d been feeling was replaced by a fairly unwarranted hatred she just couldn’t push aside. Her voice was cold. “Vix.”


Vix was sprawled on the bed, a book and a glass of wine (or was that blood? Ew) in her hands. She looked for all the world as though she owned the place, and that made Buffy super mad.


The way Vix looked up at Spike, smiled, and said in a sugary sweet voice, “Honey, you’re home!” made Buffy super, mega, ridiculously mad.


In the happy haze that had been the last few hours Buffy had forgotten all about Vix, so her presence in Spikes apartment was as surprising as it was unwelcome. To Buffy’s joy it seemed it was unwelcome to Spike too.
He slammed the door behind him and stomped over to where she lay, smiling seductively, but thankfully fully clothed.


“Vix what the hell? You can’t just go breaking into a man’s apartment, it’s not on.”


Vix smile had faltered slightly. “Sorry darling, but if you hadn’t run away from me earlier then I wouldn’t have had to break in, would I?”


Spike sighed heavily. “Look sweet, I’m sorry I was avoidin you, I know I said we could meet up, catch up as friends and that, but you’ve got to understand that’s all it would be, just mates. No benefits, just straight up friends.”


Vix curled her legs under her and gave Spike a penetrating stare. Buffy saw Spike flinch under it, and guessed there was more to the look then it seemed. Vix pulled her gaze away, pulled back suddenly, and there was clear surprise on her face. She turned her stare to Buffy and she realised why Spike had flinched. It was like someone was lifting up her skin, looking beneath it. Buffy really didn’t like the sensation, but it was quickly over. Vix seemed more surprised then before, but she got off the bed and began to gather up her things.


Buffy couldn’t understand this turn of events, and wondered desperately what Vix had seen in them that had unsettled her so.


Vix turned to Buffy with a slightly sad, but significantly more friendly, expression on her face. “I’m leaving slayer, don’t worry, but could I have a moment alone with Will please? Just to say goodbye.”


Buffy couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious, but she bit back the urge to say no. She trusted Spike after all. Most the time anyway. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” Buffy threw a look back at Spike as she left and his reassuring smile made her feel a little better.


As soon as Vix was sure Buffy was beyond earshot she said, “I get it now Will, why you weren’t as pleased to see me as I was to see you. You’re covered in her, she’s all over you. She’s covered in you too you know. I’ve never seen anything like it” Vix smiled sadly, “I understand why it never worked with us now, why you wouldn’t let yourself be mine. You were always hers Will, even before she existed. You weren’t meant to be with me, not really be with me anyway, you were meant to wait. I guess the waiting’s over now”.


Spike didn’t know how to respond to this, but he felt a surge of affection for the woman he had known so long, and who had seen him through so much, so he did what he always did, and spoke from his heart. “Vix, sweet, I want you to know that even though I couldn’t ever be what you needed me to be, you were always important to me. Always will be. When Nicky...when she died, you were incredible. I don’t think I could have got through that without you. I know I wouldn’t have. You’ll always be my friend, whatever.”


Vix gave him a genuine smile of warmth, and touched his cheek lightly with her hand. “And you’ll always be mine William, come what may.” She lowered her hand, “I meant to ask you, how’s your boy doing?”


Spike darted a worried look at the kitchen door, and Vix followed his gaze.

“Don’t worry darling, she can’t hear us. Oh, she’s been trying to alright, but she can’t.”


Spike visibly relaxed and let himself smile as he spoke, “He’s doing great, really well, though I don’t think he’d take kindly to being called a boy anymore.”



Vix laughed, “No, I suppose not. Is he still in England?”



Spike shook his head, “We moved back to New York, he missed the sounds of traffic, if you’d believe it. Found the English countryside far too dull.”


Vix grinned, “I can see where he’s coming from, full of farm animals and old fuddy duddies” Spike swatted her arm. “If you don’t mind I might pay him a visit? Just a quick one before I get the hell (excuse the pun) out of this dimension.”


Spike spoke with sincerity, “Yeah, he’d love that. Though I might have to give him a ring, let him know you’re on your way. He hasn’t seen you in a while and If you poof in front of him he might get into fighting mode before he realised.”


Vix laughed again. “You do that, If he’s been trained by you I don’t fancy catching him unawares. You might not want it, but I’m rather fond of my body, would quite like to keep it in one piece.”


There was no sting in her words, just a fond resignation.


Spike acted on impulse and hugged her tight. “Don’t leave it another twenty years before you come back again ok? Know I didn’t give you the warmest of welcomes, but I did miss you sweet. And remember, If you need me-“


“I’ll be there with bells and bloody whistles!” Vix finished. She pulled away from him and wiped at her annoyingly moist eyes. “Same here. I’d better go, the slayers getting impatient, thinks were having a good bye quickie or something.”


Spike groaned. “I don’t reckon I’ll be gettin the quiet evenin I’d hoped for.”



Vix smiled, but looked at him intently, “Will, it looks like you two will have a tough time ahead of you. I can’t tell you what will come, I don’t have your gift of sight, but I can feel it. You can face it all if you're together, I have no doubt of that, but you need to remember she’s very young. Not physically perhaps, but in certain ways she’s got a lot of growing up to do. She hasn’t yet learnt to see the world as it truly is. Do me a favour, and don’t give up on her ok? No matter how it seems, in her heart she won’t ever have given up on you.”


Spike was puzzled, it wasn’t like Vix to be so cryptic, she was usually as forthright as him, but she wasn’t going to say anymore.


She started heading for the kitchen door.
“Vix? What you doing?”


Vix looked back, “I’m just going to say goodbye to the Slayer.” At his worried look she rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry Will, I’ll play nice.”


When Vix opened the door Buffy threw herself away from the keyhole, where she had unsuccessfully been trying to listen, and tried to look nonchalant. She couldn’t keep the sulk out of her voice though, “That was a long goodbye wasn’t it?”


Vix tried not to laugh, she didn’t want to antagonise the girl. “I suppose it was, but it was perfectly innocent I assure you.”


Buffy snorted.


Vix suddenly looked serious, and her voice lowered to the point where even vamp hearing wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. “Slayer, I’m sorry if my presence here has upset you, it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t understand before, I do now. I do love Will, but I know now he isn’t mine to love, not in that way at least. I just hope you understand what you have slayer. He’s a gift, don’t take him for granted or throw him away if he doesn’t turn out to be what you thought he was.”



Buffy felt an angry retort on the tip of her tongue, but it melted away when she saw the sincerity on Vix face. “I won’t hurt him.”


Vix shook her head sadly, “I only wish that were true.” She spoke so softly that Buffy wasn’t sure she’d heard her, and when she spoke again her voice was at its normal volume, and she was smiling. “Look after him slayer, or I can’t promise I won’t reek some vengeance.”


Buffy gave her a curt nod, and, after only a little hesitance, shook the hand that was held out to her.
Vix went back through to the living room with Buffy following, gave Spike a final kiss on the cheek, turned in an elegant circle and was gone.


Spike and Buffy looked at the space she had been in, and at each other, and for once couldn’t think of a thing to say.

The silence began to feel awkward so Spike cleared his throat, “Pet, got a quick phone call to make, I’ll just be outside for a sec ok?”


“Who are you calling?” Buffy blurted out the words before she could stop herself. She knew she had no right to ask, but his calling someone so soon after Vix departure had her green eyed monster sitting up for attention.


Spike raised an eyebrow, “No one you know slayer. Won’t be a minute, I’ll make us somethin to eat when I’m done.”


Buffy nodded and watched him pick up his phone and head out the front door. Almost against her will she floated to the window and studied him. He looked tense for a second, obviously waiting for someone to pick up, but then his face relaxed into pleasure. The affection that lit up his features was breathtaking to behold, and the curiosity to know who it was that inspired such feelings in Spike burned strongly within her. He was laughing, and he suddenly looked so young. Buffy felt something pang in her chest. He wasn’t on the phone long, and seemed wistful when he had hung up. Buffy drew away from the window, reluctant for him to know that she had effectively spied on what had clearly been a personal conversation.


Spike came back in and gave her a smile before heading into the kitchen. He left the door open, hoping that Buffy would follow him in, which she did without hesitation.
As Spike clattered around putting some kind of meal together they both silently replayed their conversations with Vix.


Buffy unknowingly imitated Spikes head tilt as she watched him move so fluidly around, her eyes straying from the bunching muscles in his forearms to the sharp planes of his jaw, and his impossibly blue eyes. She didn’t know what this was that they had between them, but it was something that couldn’t be denied, and the thought of hurting him in any way seemed impossible to her. She would never hurt him, no matter what Vix thought. She couldn’t hurt him.



Spike was well aware of Buffy’s eyes upon him. He wondered desperately what Vix had said to her. He was still confused about what she had said to him. The draw he felt to this slayer was stronger than anything he had known before, but the thought that it had been pre planned, contrived in some way, bothered him. He didn’t want to think that they had been manoeuvred into position, made to fall in lov- in to whatever this was. The powers that be had played him enough, surely the feelings he had for the slayer weren’t due to them?


Whatever Spike was cooking smelt good, and Buffy couldn’t stop her stomach rumbling. The tension between them was broken as Spike chuckled at the sound. He somehow managed to pick up two plates, a mug and a can of diet coke, and lead the way back into the living room. He placed everything on the coffee table and sat on the couch, waiting, a little apprehensively, to see if Buffy would sit beside him.


He needn’t have worried, Buffy snuggled into his side as though it was the only place she belonged, and he couldn’t help giving her a delighted squeeze. She kissed the juncture of his neck in return and his breath hissed in his throat. Only the thought that the slayer really needed to eat stopped him from taking things further. He handed her a plate of some delicious looking spaghetti thing and she attacked it with such gusto Spike had to laugh.


Buffy elbowed him in the ribs and he started to eat his own. They didn’t talk but the silence was the comfortable one of two people totally at ease with each other. Once they were finished Spike picked up his mug, planning on drinking his blood down quickly, telling the slayer about the werewolf threat, and making her work up a sweat. By sparing.



Buffy stopped him before he had taken his first sip.


“Spike?”


“Yes luv?”


“What kind of blood do you drink? I was thinking that you might be over at my house quite a bit, maybe. And it might be good to get some blood in, just in case you get hungry.”


Spike was ridiculously touched. He hardly ever drank blood around the slayer, didn’t want to weird her out too much, but the fact that she would willingly get blood, and keep it in her home, just for him, touched him deeply. It was her way of saying he was always welcome. He had so rarely been welcome anywhere before.


“What kind of blood did Angel drink?” Spike hated saying the name, but it was something he had been curious about.


Buffy wrinkled her forehead in thought. The fact that she had to think about it pleased Spike for some reason. “I think he said once that he drank pigs blood.” Buffy screwed up her nose in distaste, “But that doesn’t sound very nice. What do you like?”



Spike was a little reluctant to answer; he wasn’t sure how Buffy would react. He couldn’t lie to her though, it wasn’t his way. “Well pet, the thing is... I don’t really go in for animal blood. It weakens you you see, and it doesn’t sate the hunger the same way. It stops it getting out of control, but it doesn’t satisfy it. And it tastes soddin awful. I, uh, I drink human blood.”


Spike had expected Buffy to pull violently away from him, or get angry and shout, but she didn’t move from her position on his chest, or stop playing with the edge of his t-shirt. “Oh. Where can you get that then?”


Spike couldn’t believe how totally unconcerned she sounded, “Well, I usually strike a deal with the local hospital in whatever town I’m in, I take any expired blood they have and donate money towards whatever cause they have goin.”


“I wouldn’t think they had that much blood going spare in Sunnydale, with the amount of people that get attacked.”


Spike ran his hand through her silky hair and she shivered. “They have enough for me, not full vamp pet. Don’t need that much really. Drinkin every other day does me fine.”


Buffy didn’t say anything, but snuggled into him more, and held him more tightly. Spike didn’t know what to make of her silence, so he kept silent himself, waited for her to speak. If he had had any idea of what was going round her head at that moment it would have floored him completely.


Buffy didn’t see anything wrong with what Spike had been doing. She knew the thought of him drinking human blood should have bothered her, but for some reason it really didn’t. It was part of who he was. It wasn’t really a choice for him, he needed it to live as much as she needed pizza. And why would he drink animal blood when there was human blood on offer which would just be thrown away anyway? She’d noticed how he hardly ever drank around her, and ate human food when he was offered it. She knew he did it to make her feel more comfortable, and it was sweet (something Angel would certainly have never done), but there was no getting away from the fact that he was a vamp, partly anyway. He needed blood, and not drinking often enough could weaken him...


“Spike?”


“Yes pet?”


“Isn’t slayer blood like a super concentrated kind of blood?”


Spike stiffened, he wasn’t sure where Buffy was going with this, but he was intrigued to find out. “Well, yeah, guess you could put it like that.”


“So you wouldn’t need to drink much of it?”


Spike squished the hopes that were flaring in his chest right down. “Well, a couple of sips would probably do a vamp a couple of days. Wouldn’t need to drink much, but I don’t rightly know pet.”


Buffy’s next words were so quiet Spike could barely hear them, and so incredible he could barely believe them.


“You could drink from me you know.”


“What?”


Buffy was mumbling, as though embarrassed, but there was no mistaking her meaning. “You can drink from me sometimes, when you need to.”


Spike was lost for words. Offering to keep blood in her house for him was one thing, offering her own blood was something else entirely. By offering she was saying she knew he wouldn’t take too much, she was proving how much she trusted him, and it meant more to him then he could express. He was tempted, sorely tempted, but he wouldn’t drink from her for just for his own benefit, not when he couldn’t give her something as important in return.
He pulled her up so he could look at her face. When she wouldn’t meet his eyes he raised her chin gently with his finger, coaxing her to raise her gaze to his. When she did he saw that she was completely serious. He lowered his mouth, intending to kiss her, but she tilted her head, offering her neck. He groaned and ran his lips over it. Buffy tensed, bracing herself for the pain, but it didn’t come. Instead of biting her he ran his tongue sensuously along her pulse point, along her jaw.


Buffy felt her heart rate rocket. “Aren’t you hungry?”


Spike chuckled. “Oh I’m hungry slayer. Just not for blood.”


Buffy blushed furiously. “Don’t you want to drink from me?”


Spike looked at her, and the emotions in his eyes were overwhelming. “You offering means so much to me luv, more than I can say. But I won’t drink from you, not when there’s no need. Maybe one day you’ll want me to bite you, not to please me, but because you want it. Then I will.”



Buffy opened her mouth to argue, but he filled it with his tongue and her mind went deliriously pleasure blank.


Before either of them lost themselves completely Spike pulled back, leaving them both panting for air, and Buffy seriously pouty.


Spike grinned and kissed the end of her nose, “Sorry luv, as much as I want to do that all night, I have got somethin to tell you. I had a vision earlier...”



To Spikes amusement, and exasperation, Buffy was totally unconcerned by the fact he had seen a werewolf at her back, lunging for the kill.


She waved her hand airily, “We’ll find it and kill it way before the full moon. And if we don’t you’ll have my back. The thing won’t have a chance.”


Spike agreed, but he didn’t want her to get complacent. As he knew only too well a complacent slayer was a dead slayer. And he wouldn’t let this slayer die. Not this one.


Speaking to Vix earlier had reminded Spike of how little Buffy really knew about him. She knew some of the facts, the generic stuff that didn’t really matter, but there was so much she had no idea of. So many secrets he hadn’t shared. He wanted to tell her everything, he did, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he was certain that there was more between them than a mind blowing sexual chemistry. There was on his side, a lot more. But on hers? He didn’t know. She had loved the great poof, he knew that, and she had loved him so recently. As boring and brooding as Angel was, it was unlikely she’d be over him yet. Spike wanted the slayer, desperately, but he didn’t want to be a rebound. He’d had more than enough of being second best. He couldn’t give himself to Buffy completely, couldn’t totally let her in, until he knew that she was ready to do the same. Until that time came, if it ever did, he was going to enjoy every second he had with her. He captured her lips.



It had gotten late; they had never got round to sparing and Buffy had yet to patrol.
They were lying on the sofa, had been for hours, just stroking and caressing each other with heavenly touches. They were fully clothed, and the ache for more raged in each of them, threatening every second to be beyond their control, but both were reluctant to take things further tonight, not when what they had was so exquisite in its perfection.


Buffy knew she should patrol, should go home to her mother and sleep in her own bed. Spike knew he should make her, knew her duty should come first, but neither made any attempt to move.


That was the first night they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Buffy woke to the most incredible feeling. A cool blanket wrapped around her heated skin, leaving little trails of icy fire where it touched. She felt safe, protected and precious. The source of her feelings was quickly apparent. Spike. His arms were wrapped around her, their legs were intertwined, and Buffy’s face was pressed into the crook of his neck. She inhaled the scent of him, there was nothing like it. She let out a contented sigh and tightened her grip on him. The hitch in his breathing told Buffy that he was awake.


Reluctant to pull away from this most amazing embrace Buffy pulled herself up to lean on her elbow, so she could look at his face. The candles had all burnt out, and his eyes were bright in the dim light of the room, a small smile played around his lips.


Lost in the beauty of his face Buffy could only say “Hey you”, in a breathy voice.


Spike leant his forehead into hers, overwhelmed with having had her in his arms all night. He had hardly slept, just watched her, taking in every detail of face when it was lost in dreams. He didn’t understand the power this Slayer was starting to have over him, the feelings she was beginning to inspire. If he was honest it scared him, and he was not easily scared. He knew he should cut and run, get out now before either of them became more entangled, but instead he’d lain there and watched her sleep, hoping that the night would last forever.


“Mornin pet. Sleep well?”



All he got was an inarticulate sound of pleasure, which was more than enough confirmation for him.



“I don’t want you to move slayer, in fact I was tempted to glue you in that position, but maybe you should think about headin home before your mum wakes up.”


Buffy groaned. “God, yeah, she’ll go nuts if she finds my bed empty. Urgh. I don’t want to move.”



Spike sighed, he didn’t want her to move either, but there was not getting away from the fact she had to. He figured the best way was to make the transition quick, like pulling off a band aid.
So he pushed her off the couch.



She fell heavily, letting out a load humph.



She rolled over, and from her position on the floor she glared at him, “Thanks.”



Spike stuck his tongue out at her, “You’re welcome slayer, thought I’d better get you moving before I changed my mind and chained you up here.”



Buffy jumped up and smacked his arm, hard. “There will be no chaining. Ever.”



Spike shot her a wicked grin, “Really slayer? I think you might like it.”



Buffy blushed despite herself. “Pig”.



Spike oinked happily, but got off the sofa to pull her back into his arms.


Buffy clutched back at him, and said in a less sulky voice, “FYI, that’s not my favourite way to get up in the morning.”



Spike chuckled, “I’ll remember that Slayer. Next time you stay I’ll be sure to get you off more pleasantly.”



His innuendo did nothing but make Buffy fervently wish it was the next time she was staying. As it was, the sun was beginning to rise outside, so she drew away from him, and after a lingering kiss, which made her bones melt and her skin crackle with electricity, she made her way reluctantly home.



Buffy had snuck in, snuck into bed and fallen back asleep to delicious Spike daydreams.


As much as she wanted things to go further with Spike she had only had sex once before, and it had ended in such a disastrous way that it had added to her insecurities, not taken them away. She knew it would be different with Spike. She trembled to think how different it would be, but she wasn’t entirely ready. If he had pushed things she would have done it, as lost in sensation as he made her feel, but he hadn’t. She suspected he could feel her hesitation and was holding back until she was ready. That thought made her fall even deeper. Just because they hadn’t gone past kissing in reality however, didn’t mean she couldn’t fantasise about what it might be like when they did. Her fantasies came thick and fast when she was alone. She was having a particularly good one, involving the chains Spike had casually mentioned, when it was rudely interrupted far too soon by the ringing of the phone.



With many a grumble Buffy answered. It was Giles, and he was frantic. The werewolf hair, which he had plucked from the victim’s bodies, was missing. Giles was adamant that he had put them in a polythene bag, and secured them in the draw of his desk, but when he went to get them this morning they were gone.


Buffy was concerned, it wasn’t like Giles to lose things, and if they were going to track this werewolf down before it could kill again they needed those hairs.


Buffy promised to be over as soon as she could, Giles said he’d ring the other scoobies and Spike, and keep looking in the mean time.



By the time Buffy arrived at Giles apartment he had turned it upside down. He looked confused and dishevelled. “Buffy, I’ve looked everywhere”, he waved his arms frantically at the mess, “And their gone, absolutely bloody gone!”



Buffy patted him soothingly on the arm. “Don’t worry Giles, we’ll find them, and if we don’t we’ll figure out some other way to find the werewolf” Buffy noticed a few books that had been thrown haphazardly around. When she pointed them out to Giles his anguished cry of ‘good lord!’, and the way he ran around picking them up and putting them so carefully away almost made Buffy laugh out loud.


Buffy helped him straighten things back up, and by time the others arrived some semblance of order had been restored.


Xander groaned when he found out about the loss of the hairs, foreseeing that it would mean a lot more research. Willow went a little pink and mumbled about what a shame it was, before going to make tea.



Spike arrived and Buffy resisted her instant urge to go kiss him in welcome. He was not so good at resisting his urges and slapped her on the behind when the others backs were turned. She glared at him, but he just shrugged in a ‘so sue me’ gesture which made her smile.


Spike refused to see the loss of the hairs as an obstacle. Buffy was quickly learning that Spike was not one for brooding on problems he was too busy finding solutions. It was probably why he’d survived as long as he had despite his more than occasional recklessness.



Spike commandeered the comfiest armchair, throwing one of his legs casually over the arm, and enjoying the fact that Xander had a far less relaxing seat, and was told off by Giles for propping his feet up on the coffee table. Spike let everyone put forward their suggestions before he spoke up. “Bein a demon myself I can sense other demons, if I got close enough to the werewolf in human form I’d be able to tell.”



Xander snorted. “And that’s useful how?”


Spike raised an eyebrow, “And you’re useful how?”


Giles shifted uneasily, clearly not wanting to speak up but feeling that he should, “Uh, I think what Xander was trying to say, badly of course, was that it isn’t really possible for you to approach every resident of Sunnydale.” When Spike glared he added hastily, “I mean, of course you could but possibly not in the time limit. There might be an easier way?”


Spike sighed. “Well, I hadn’t actually finished what I was going to say before GI Idiot chimed in. It would take me a while, and a lot of runnin around to find the werewolf in amongst all the little Sunnydale happymeals, but there are other demons who specialise in jobs like this, would be able to do it a lot quicker. I know one in particular.”


Giles had straightened with interest. Xander was in a strop. Buffy was listening avidly. Willow had paled and was shredding some paper between her fingers.


I know this Jag’noth demon, nice bird. Her kind are as similar in looks to humans as Vamps, and generally a peaceable lot. Don’t cause no trouble unless they’re troubled, but their senses are enhanced, I’m talkin real enhanced. They quite often get hired by other demons, or even humans, as trackers. Some make a business of pretending to be psychics or what not, help the police track down killers and that. The one I’m friendly with, Anna, she doesn’t usually work for anyone, works by her own agenda.”


Buffy had bristled at his calling this Anna a ‘nice bird’, and though resenting her mindless jealousy over every woman Spike had known, couldn’t help snapping, “So why do you think she’ll help us with this case?”


Spike didn’t react to her attitude beyond a barely hidden grin. “Well, in this case slayer our agendas cross. She had a mate see, we used to hit the bars together years back. He was a good mate. But he... he was killed by a werewolf. Ten years ago now. Since then her mission has been to track down werewolves and kill them. She’s ruthless, makes an art of it.”


“That’s horrible.” Willows voice was small and strained.


Spike shrugged. “Not really Red, her methods might be a little violent, but she’s riding the world of killers in the same way the slayer does. And one day she hopes to find and kill the wolf who took her heart from her. I can’t judge her for that.”


Willow looked at Spike with eyes that seemed to him to be a little pleading. “But what if some werewolves don’t want to kill, but can’t control themselves? Do they deserve to die?”


No one else saw anything odd in tender hearted Willow’s question, but Spike saw something behind her eyes which he couldn’t quite make out. He decided to watch her a little more closely from now on, he had the feeling the timid redhead was hiding something. “Well, she doesn’t kill wildly. She knows some werewolves, would never think of harming them, cos they stop themselves from harming others. Anna only goes to areas where they’re have been reported killings, ones clearly wolf related. She tracks the werewolf, or wolves. Watches, waits. If they prove to be beyond control, unrepentant, she takes care of them. She saves far more lives than she takes Red.”


Buffy and Giles shared a look; they were both unsure of the dubious sounding morality of the werewolf hunter. Buffy resented Spikes assertion that this Anna was like her, ridding the world of killers. To Buffy’s mind it was black and white simplicity. All soulless vampires were evil, and therefore dustable. They were equal in their evil disgusting thingness. Spike and Angel had souls and were, therefore, the only exceptions to the rule. This Anna killed some werewolves, but didn’t kill others, just because she was friends with them, or thought they didn’t kill people or whatever. That was an entirely too gray way of thinking for Buffy. Either all of them were evil mindless creatures or none of them were, and considering the violent deaths werewolves caused Buffy was inclined to think the former of them. Buffy noticed that Willow also seemed unconvinced, though where this sympathy for werewolves was coming from she simply couldn’t imagine.


After, to Xanders way of thinking, far too much further discussion and research it was decided that Spikes information was the only thing they really had to go on. As reluctant as Giles was to have this demon woman brought in to help there didn’t seem to be another way.


“So Spike, how would we get hold of this uh Anna person if we wanted to enlist her services?”


Spike had been bored with the book focused turn the day had taken, and the absolute lack of slayer kissing opportunities he had had, so he had been dozing in the chair idly. Well, that had been what it looked like to everyone else. The fact that he had been often watching Willow through heavy lidded eyes had not been observed by anyone, including Willow herself. Spike noted with interest that she seemed to be lost in thought, unpleasant thought, the majority of the time, and had been chewing on her nails in obvious worry. She had alternated this with rapid flicking through dusty textbooks. Spike got the distinct impression she hadn’t been looking for the same kind of information as everybody else. Interesting.
He answered Giles though, as soon as he’d been addressed. “The last I heard of her she was livin in LA, but that was a couple of years back. If I headed up there and made enquiries I could find her, no worries.”


Giles sighed, “Then, If you wouldn’t mind, I think the sooner you find her the better, we don’t seem to be able to come up with an alternative plan.”


Buffy had been following the brief exchange with avid interest. She so didn’t want Spike trotting off the LA. She waved the musty book she was holding around. “Giles, I really don’t think we’ve given the research enough of a go.”


Giles choked on his tea, “You- uh you want to do more research Buffy? You?”


Buffy was affronted, especially when Spike laughed and even Xander snorted. “Yes me! I’m all with the research and stuff. Call me research girl. We can totally find a non-demon-werewolf-hunter solution if we just stick with the books and the weird demonic-y text things.”


Willow looked up hopefully, “Yeah Giles, I agree with Buffy.” Buffy didn’t see the hope, only saw her best friend sticking up for her, but Spike didn’t miss it.


Giles had saucer eyes, “Well Buffy, as pleased as I am about your new attitude towards research, and as long time coming as it has been, I still feel it would be best for Spike to go make enquiries. We can carry on researching in the mean time, and if we find a more suitable solution we will, of course, use that. Spike, when would you be able to leave?”


Spike gave his slayer a little smile before he answered. “Can go tonight Rupes, might as well get there and back as quick as eh? That is if the slayer doesn’t mind?”


Buffy frowned at him, and at the room in general. “Fine.”


To Giles consternation the girl who had professed her desire to research only seconds before now threw his book (with absolutely no respect for its damaged binding) onto the table and sprang to her feet.


“If Spikes going to head off tonight we’d better do a quick patrol now, make sure the apocalypse isn’t gonna rear its ugly head while he’s gone.”


Giles looked the bright sky through his window, and then at his watch. “Buffy, It’s only just now 2 o clock. In the afternoon. I really don’t think patrolling now would – “


Buffy cut him off. “You’re right Giles. It’s the afternoon. But you’re forgetting, apocalypses are tricky things, they sneak up on you when you least expect them. Like on a summers afternoon. I don’t think we should run the risk of ignoring this very real possibility.”


Before Giles could protest further Spike stood up. “I think the slayer’s right Rupes. I mean, who ever said the apocalypse could only come at night? In fact we’ve been pretty stupid, sittin around here eating junk food all complacent like, when the world could be right about to end. Can’t believe I didn’t see the sense in it before, an afternoon apocalypse would be far more bloody sensible. No need for candles, plenty of virgins waltzing around waiting to be sacrificed,” Spike looked pointedly at Xander, “All those ice cream trucks which could potentially contain whirling portals to other dimensions. The afternoon is the soddin perfect apocalypse time.”


Buffy knew Spike well enough to know he was using his teasing voice. Giles, as it turned out, did not. So while Spike and Buffy exchanged grins Giles was wiping his glasses and clearly thinking hard. “You know Spike you're absolutely right. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before. It’s madness to assume that danger will only come at night. Utter madness. You two had better patrol at once. And we really should make it a regular thing. But then what about the mornings? Surely they’re a dangerous time too...”


Sensing a Giles ramble coming on Buffy quickly said good bye, and, after assuring Giles that he would ring him once he’d got to LA and had news, Spike did likewise.


Once they were out in the balmy air Buffy slipped her hand into Spikes. He held on to it tightly, and swung their arms around in a jaunty manner.


Buffy laughed. “Hope you didn’t mind me getting us out of there, just figured that if you’re abandoning me to run off to LA it might be fun to spend the afternoon together.”


“I’m not abandoning you pet, trust me, would much rather be here than in Hell L. If I promise to bring you back one of those stupid actors you like as a souvenir , all bound and gagged and docile like, would you be satisfied?”



Buffy grinned in answer to his. She knew her jealousy and clingy-ness were not attractive traits, even though Spike seemed to like them, but she couldn’t help it. The thought of him going away was not a pleasant one for her. “I’m satisfied, you can go off to LA, that’s fine by me. But if something attacks me in your absence you have only yourself to blame.”


Spike tightened his grip on her hand. “You’re not getting attacked by anything slayer, visions remember? You’re all good. Until the next full moon anyway.”


Buffy looked at him slyly, “But what if your vision wasn’t what you thought? What if it wasn’t a full moon you saw, but just a really big star? The werewolf might have figured out how to change at will, he could be coming for me anytime.”


Spike rolled his eyes. “You’re not talking to Giles now slayer, you can’t play me that easy. Anyway, I thought I saw a certain someone eat 3 doughnuts earlier. I reckon we should do some exercise, before that someone turns into a porky slayer.”


Buffy went to hit out at him, but he was gone, sprinting off in to the distance. With an involuntary grin she gave chase.



Buffy couldn’t remember ever having such a good afternoon.
She caught up to Spike eventually, pulled a pouty face and pretended to be offended by his comment, which led to some supreme kissage and his many murmured assurances that she was in no way porky.


He held her hand, and she revealed in the tingles. They went for a walk. Not a prowling through graveyards, or a running away from demons kind of walk. But an ordinary walk, like any other couple would do. He took her down to the beach and bought her icecream, and when he made pig noises she shoved hers in his face and they laughed. There was plenty more kissing.


Then he took her back to his place, and they sparred for a while, just because it was fun. Buffy could in no way match his speed or agility but she was getting better, faster, surer. Spike had to try now, and Buffy loved what she called his ‘effort face’. When she pointed it out to him he just grinned and said that if she liked that she should wait until she saw his sex face. An unholy amount of kissing followed.


Then Spike stuck on a film (in his opinion an old classic, in her opinion a load of rubbish) They pretended to watch it, but really watched each other. They argued and laughed and kissed some more. The film ended but they stayed twined on the sofa, Spike just holding her and Buffy just enjoying him.


Buffy was falling, and she was falling hard. It scared her a little, if she fell any harder she didn’t think she’d ever get back up.


He’d been stroking her hair, playing with it in a way so innocent it shouldn’t have made her squirm the way it did.
He asked her to tell him something about her he didn’t already know. She thought hard, “I’ve always wanted to travel. If I hadn’t been the slayer, with the whole pre destined fate fun, I would have gone to Europe when I finished college.”


Spike didn’t laugh at her dream, didn’t tell her it was impossible. Instead he told her about the countries he’d been to, the places he’d seen. “You’d love Italy pet, it’s a beautiful place. One day, when there aren’t any apocalypses to avert, we should go to Rome. Or Venice. Would love to see you in a gondola.”


Buffy sighed, she loved the picture he painted for her, and the idea of going any where with him was thrilling, but she wasn’t one to falsely hope for things any more. “If only there weren’t always apocalypses.”


Spike took her hand and played with her fingers, “You forget slayer, I can see apocalypses coming, and so far next summers lookin pretty clear of them. I’ll take you. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go.”


Buffy was overwhelmed.


She asked him to tell her something she didn’t know. He said he’d rather show her. Stashed in the corner of the room Spike had a guitar Buffy had never noticed. He pulled it out and sat on the coffee table in front of her. Intrigued she sat up straighter.

He started to play and she was rapt.
He started to sing and she was lost.


It wasn’t a song she recognised, but it instantly became her favourite. She could have listened to him forever, despite how uncomfortably aroused it made her.


When he was done more talking was out of the question. He crawled up the sofa towards her, covering her body with his.


Neither of them breathed for quite some time after.




Even after the sun had long set and Spike had dropped her home Buffy’s lips were still swollen and tingled with the memory of his touch.


He had driven off in his monster of a car, promising to call when he arrived in LA.
It felt like he took part of her with him.


Buffy decided to have a long bath and curl up to wait for his call, she already missed the sound of his voice, but her life never went the way she planned.



Before she even reached the front door Buffy felt the tingles. Her stomach dropped, this was the last thing she needed tonight.


She whirled around to face the deepening shadows.
“Hello Angel.”

When Angel stepped from the shadows the moonlight threw him into sharp relief. Every feature, every part of him which Buffy had so often thought and dreamt about in the past was there, right before her eyes.


And other than annoyance she didn’t feel a thing. Her heart maintained its steady beat within her chest. It didn’t flutter. It didn’t stir. When she looked at him she realised that whatever feelings she once had for him were gone. Long gone.


Unfortunately it quickly became clear his feelings for her were not.


He was wearing his most soulful, brooding expression and reached out a hand to her, which Buffy quickly stepped away from. To her surprise the pain which passed through his eyes at her action caused her no pain at all. While she didn’t want any particular harm to come to him her concern for his well being was the concern she held for any resident of Sunnydale. It was concern for a stranger.



“What are you doing here Angel?” Buffy was tired, and looking forward to a relaxing night, and possibly a kinky phone call, so her voice came out a bit harsher than she'd intended.



He was visibly shocked. “Buffy, surely it’s obvious why I’m here? I wanted to see you, talk to you. Make sure that you’re alright. I thought it would be for the best if, after that night, I went away for a while. Gave us both time to calm down and get our heads together. But I'm back now.”



Buffy sighed. This was just so Angel. Making out that he cared for her well being, but not actually doing a thing to secure it. She hadn’t seen him for almost a month. For over half of that time she’d been grieving the loss of Spike, in pain so severe she couldn’t bare to think about it. And where had he been? Not comforting her. Not helping her come up with a plan to get Spike back. Not doing anything at all. He’d probably been off brooding somewhere. She wished that was where he’d stayed.



“Yeah. I can see you're back. And as you can see I’m fine. I am tired though, so if we could make this quick I’d appreciate it.”



Buffy almost giggled at the expression on Angels face, he'd moved beyond broody to crestfallen.



“Uh, well, could we maybe take the conversation inside?” Angel glanced hopefully towards the front door. “I was going to go into your bedroom to wait for you, but I didn’t know if my invitation was still revoked?” He said the last bit hopefully.



Buffy decided it was probably kinder in the long run to crush that hope now. “It is still revoked, and I don’t plan on renewing it any time soon. We can talk fine out here.”



Angel opened and closed his mouth several times. He looked remarkably like a guppy fish. “Surely you can’t mean that Buffy? I’ve missed you, I know you must have missed me too. Whatever I did when I was Angelus, that wasn’t me, the real me. You know the real me, you love me. You know I’ll do whatever I can to make this right. We can get past this.”



Buffy shook her head, but there was no regret in her voice. “Get past you killing Jenny Calendar? Get past you letting Drusilla kill Kendra? Get past you trying, repeatedly, to kill me and everyone that I love? I don’t think so Angel. It might not have been ‘you’ that did those things, but it was a demon wearing your face, I just can’t look at you the same way anymore. I don’t want to.”



Angel took a step forward, Buffy took a step back. “But Buffy you have to get past this, you don’t have a choice. We’re meant for each other, predestined. You have to love me, you can’t deny what’s been prophesised.”



Buffy put a hand on her hip and flicked her hair back. She was starting to get mad, and having to look up at him to talk was giving her a crick in the neck. “I have to love you do I? Well, I don’t, so the prophesy can shove it.”



Buffy was sure she heard Angel growl. She wasn’t the only one getting angry. “What’s happened to you? Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. You must be under some kind of spell, or manipulation – “



“Why? Because I’m thinking for myself? Because I’m relying on my own guidance, not yours? The days of you telling me what to do, and making me do ‘what’s best’ are over. Just like us.” He still didn’t look like he was getting it, so Buffy added, for good measure, “I. Dont. Love. You.”



This time he definitely growled, and took two quite menacing steps forward. “Buffy –“


Suddenly he stopped and sniffed the air. He was closer to Buffy now, and what he smelt on her had him tensing with rage.


“Spike? What’s going on? How can you smell of him? He was sent to hell.”



Buffy stepped rapidly backwards as he made to come closer. “I went and got him back.”



Angel’s eyes flashed golden. “You went and got him back? From hell? Why would you do something so foolish? So stupid and unnecessary?”


Buffy bristled. “It was necessary. He should never have been there, he did it to save you. It wasn’t right. And I need him.”


Angel gave a harsh laugh, which reminded Buffy unpleasantly of Angelus. He even sounded like him when he next spoke. “You need him? How could you possibly need him? He’s never been much use to anyone, and he certainly isn’t your champion.”



Buffy backed up several steps, getting closer to the door. She snorted. “And you are? Over a champion whose tried to kill me, and a champion who only ever tries to save my life, I think I’ll take the second option thanks.”



Angel sneered. “You’re covered in him. You reek of him. It’s disgusting. Were you carrying on with him when you were with me? I bet you were. I didn’t know you at all, did I? You come over all innocent, all naive and moral, when really you’ll go with anyone that’ll have you. I bet even Xander’s had a go, hasn’t he?”



Buffy saw the way Angel was prowling towards her. His sweet ‘still love me’ routine was over. His pride had been dented to hell, and he wasn’t going to take it lying down. She had never known him, as Angel, to speak this cruelly, this coldly. She was beginning to think that perhaps Angelus and Angel weren’t that different after all. She moved closer to the door, so her hand was resting on the handle.



“Angel, I don’t want to hurt you, but if you carry on talking like that I will. Happily. Please just leave me alone. Get on with your life someplace else. Help people if you want repentance, do something other than waiting around to uselessly warn me of stuff like a fortune cookie.”



Angel watched her open the door, and flashed out a hand to grab her, but she was within the barrier and out of his reach before he could make contact. He wasn’t done though.




“So what is it about ‘Spike’ that you find so appealing Buffy? Really I’d like to know, because I’m drawing a blank here. He certainly couldn’t satisfy Drusilla, she had to keep running to me.”



Buffy felt a stab of deep, brutal anger. He could pick all the fights he wanted with her, but starting on Spike? That was crossing the line. The callousness of her own voice shocked her. “Actually Angel he satisfies me more with a kiss then you did the whole time we were together. I don’t think our little fumble could be called satisfying, do you?”



Angels eyes were fully yellow now, and he threw himself at the barrier, snarling.


“Even after everything I’ve done I’m still better than he is Buffy! You’ll realise it soon enough. Just spend some more time with him, see for yourself what a snivelling waste of space he is!”



Buffy smiled coldly. “I plan on spending a lot more time with him, and I highly doubt my feelings for him will change. He’s in my heart Angel. I think he was always there. Deal with it.”



Buffy went to close the door, to block Angel from her house, from her life, but his next disdainful words stopped her in her tracks.



“He’s in your heart is he? Funny, I thought only vampires with a soul earned that privilege.”



Buffy was shocked into absolute silence. Angel saw the way the colour left her face, the way her eyes went dull, and practically crowed with delight. She might not want him anymore, but he’d make damn certain she wouldn’t want Spike either. “Oh, forget to mention that one did he? Didn’t your precious champion tell you he hasn’t got a soul?”



Buffy found her voice, it was croaky but hers. “You’re wrong.”



Angel smirked and shook his head. “Don’t think I am sweetheart. Do you think his loving father would have kept him alive if he’d seen a soul in him? He would have been dust before he reached his fifth birthday if he had. But no, the Predator was a soulless demon, and so was the son he produced.”



Buffy was shaking her head wildly. “You’re wrong. Spike has a soul, I know he does. Why else would he have helped generations of slayers? He’d be killing them if he didn’t have a soul, not saving them. He killed his father because of what he did to a slayer, for what he did to his mother.”



Angel laughed. It clawed at Buffy’s skin. “Are you stupid Buffy? Spike hated his father, didn’t like the idea of being used as a weapon by him. He wanted to do things his own way. Killing the Predator had nothing to do with avenging his mother; he was looking after his own interests.”



Buffy remembered something, and said triumphantly, “But you said that in the years he spent with you after the death of his father he didn’t like hunting, would avoid it at all costs. And he fell in love with a human. He wouldn’t be able to love if he didn’t have a soul.”




Angel rolled his eyes. “He didn’t like hunting because he’s not a full vampire. He needs blood to live, but he doesn’t crave it like we do. The hunger isn’t so strong. And just because he wasn’t fond of hunting doesn’t mean he didn’t love violence. He always loved a good fight, ‘fists and fangs’ is what he called it. And demons can love, in their own twisted way. It’s a possessive kind of love though. Destructive. That girl was his pet, his play thing. If he really loved her he would never have slept with her and got her pregnant, not when he knew that her family would have disowned her if they knew about it.”



Everything Angel was saying had a horrible ring of truth to it. Spike did love violence, and he had once told her that he liked to fight best when he was up against it, ‘fists and fangs all out’. And if he had loved that girl would he have destroyed her prospects like that? Dragged her into danger as he had? But then Buffy thought of something else.



“If he has no soul then how come he does what he does? No one’s making Spike save slayers, he does it because he wants to. Because he knows it’s right.”



Angel shook his head. “Once again Buffy your showing your stupidity. Because of his whore of a mother Spike inherited slayer qualities, slayer visions. He knew that if he acted the way his nature told him to the council would send their full force after him. He’d probably survive in a fight against the slayer, but he wouldn’t have had a chance against the full weight of the council. So he concocted his ‘saving slayers’ bit. It kept the council off his back, and meant he could enjoy all the carnage. He does it because he loves the fight, not because he wants to serve good. As long as he gets to participate in some destruction he doesn’t care what side he’s on. He doesn’t have a soul Buffy. He doesn’t do what’s right, just what he wants to do. Spike just careens through life, he doesn’t care about the people he gets involved with. One day he might get bored of saving slayers.”



Buffy suddenly remembered that Spike had disappeared after the death of the slayer Nicky Wood, and had never given a real explanation for it. He’d made out it was because he was grieving, because he felt guilty for not being able to save her. What if he’d been lying?



“One day he might decide to turn on slayers. That day might come soon Buffy. He might turn on you. And you will never see it coming.”



Against her will Buffy thought of all the friends Spike had mentioned, and those she had actually met. All demons. Soulless demons like Vix, and this Anna he was collecting from LA. None of them could be considered good, and Spike didn’t seem to care at all. What did that say about him? How much did she really know about him? Slayers didn’t need saving all the time, what did he do for the rest of it? Then she remembered Tarot. He had said Spike drew the death card. Every time. What did that mean?



Angel could tell his last remarks had hit home, Buffy could think of nothing to say in response, and had stopped slowly shaking her head. Satisfied that he’d achieved his goal Angel turned to go, leaving just one parting comment to the slayer he had hoped would be his salvation.



“He might be in your heart Buffy, but how long will he stay there now you know?”





Buffy was still standing by the open door long after he’d left.



Joyce was at an exhibition opening, and wouldn’t be home for some time. When Buffy could finally move she went upstairs to her room, got into bed fully clothed and lay in the dark with her dark thoughts.



A little later the phone started to ring. She knew it was Spike, ringing to say he’d arrived in LA. Her heart leapt at the thought of talking to him, but she ignored it, and she ignored the phone.



The phone continued to ring on and off for the next hour.


Buffy lay in the dark listening to the sound of the ringing, and listening to the much louder sound of her own tears.

Buffy wasn’t sure if she slept that night. She wasn’t sure if the images that plagued her were dreams or imaginings.

When the sun had not long risen the phone began to ring again. Buffy made no attempt to answer it but dragged her puffy eyes under her sheets. She could hear her mom walking down the hall, heard her picking up the phone. She heard the faint murmur of her moms side of the conversation, then a pause.

Her bedroom door was eased open. Buffy stayed safely hidden by her sheets and tried to feign the deep breathing of sleep. After several moments her door closed again. She heard her mom speaking, and then the phone was put down.


Buffy breathed a little more easily. She knew Spike would keep calling until she spoke to him. For all she knew he might have been back already. But she wasn’t ready to face him, not yet. Hearing his voice, seeing his face, it would all be too hard now she suspected what he really was.


She needed someone to talk to, someone to give her parental concern as well as honesty.

She couldn’t turn to her mom, she just wouldn’t understand how important having a soul was when you were dealing with demons. When Angel had lost his soul Buffy had tried to protect her mom from the worst of his actions, and Joyce’s general opinion had been that Angel had always been an idiot anyway. In that it seemed she was right.
But right now Buffy needed her other parent. She needed Giles. He would give her the answers. He wouldn’t sugar coat the truth, and her mind was in such turmoil she knew that only the truth would stop it whirling.



She dressed without seeing what clothes she had chosen, and crept out of her room as quietly as she could.

She wasn’t quiet enough. Her mom stood at the foot of the stairs, her eyebrows raised and a smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

“Honey, it’s before seven. In the morning. And you’re up. Is everything ok?” Joyce said it jokingly, but then she saw Buffy’s pale, drawn face and red rimmed eyes and her smile dropped away.


“Buffy? Honey? Whats wrong?”


Buffy ran a shaky hand through her hair. “Nothing’s wrong mom, I’m fine.”


Joyce gave her a look that said plainly, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”


Buffy tried giving a strained smile, but it was too much effort. “Really mom, I’m fine, just had a bad dream and couldn’t get back to sleep after.”


Joyce’s brows furrowed in concern. “Was it one of your slayer dreams?”


Buffy felt herself visibly relax, “Yeah, I think so, not really sure what it meant though so I’m gonna go talk to Giles. What are you doing up so early anyway?”


Joyce waved a hand airily, “I’m expecting an overseas delivery for the gallery, and they couldn’t give me a tighter time frame then ‘from between 7 and 12’” She rolled her eyes, and Buffy tried to smile. Joyce didn’t miss the effort it took, and stretched out a hand to stroke her daughters face. “Honey, I know I can’t be of much use when it comes to vampires and things, but I am here to talk if you need me.”


Buffy gave her mom a brief hug, and pulled away before her tears came back. “I know you are mom, thank you, but everything's ok. Promise. I won’t be back before you leave for the gallery, but I’ll see you later?”


“Sure, say hello to Mr Giles for me.”


“I will.” Buffy shrugged on her jacket and tugged the door open, only to be painfully halted by her moms next words.


“Oh! Buffy, I almost forgot. Spike called a little while ago.” Buffy forced herself to turn round and put on a falsely normal expression.
“Oh yeah?”


Joyce was smiling again, under the ironic misapprehension that news of Spike would cheer Buffy up, and take her mind of whatever was worrying her. “I told him off for ringing so ridiculously early. For a young person he keeps very odd hours. He wanted to speak to you, I told him you were, like most normal people, still in bed. He actually made me go check on you, as if I wouldn’t know if you’d stayed out all night! I called him a cheeky so and so, said you were sleeping and he said he’d call back later. He also said he’d tried ringing a couple of times last night? Did you go out?”


Buffy nodded dumbly. “Uh yeah, did a patrol then went to the Bronze for a bit with Willow.”


Joyce noticed that Buffy seemed to have turned paler still. “You go and talk to Mr Giles honey, tell him about your dream, let him work out what it means and take some of the pressure off you for a change.”


Buffy was touched by her moms concern, but knew that the longer she stood there talking with her the more likely it would be that she’d burst into tears. She gave her a swift hug though, feeling so grateful that she had one part of her life which would always be steady.




Buffy, and a still drowsy, and not-very-amused-at-being-woken-by-slayer-strength-knocking, Giles were sat in the living room of his flat drinking tea. At least Giles was drinking tea, Buffy had been staring into hers for some time while Giles waited for her to explain why she had come. It took his coughing several polite but pointed times before she had focused her mind enough to know what to say. She had ruled out telling Giles out right about Spikes lack of soul. To Giles Spike was a hero, a fantastic mythical figure from Watcher legend. He would either be crushed by the news, refuse to believe it or go all stakey on him. Buffy decided to get a few impartial answers first, before Giles became emotionally involved.



“Giles, what happens when a person becomes a vampire?”



Giles eyebrows shot way, way up. This was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “Buffy, if you don’t know the answer to that by now I’ve been doing a very poor job as your watcher.”



Buffy managed a tired smile. “I know the process, obviously. I do listen to you some of the time you know.”
Giles snorted, and Buffy pointedly ignored him. “What I meant was, when a person gets bitten what happens to their soul? How come vampires are soulless?”


Giles frowned. He wasn’t sure where this turn in the conversation was coming from. His only explanation was that Buffy was thinking of Angel, but when he thought of her reaction to that name in recent weeks he was fairly sure that, for Buffy at least, that particular ship had sailed. She looked so sober though, so unusually grave that Giles thought it best not to probe into her reasoning, but merely answer her question.


He removed his glasses for their minutely polish and pondered on how to explain, “Well, the council can’t be ah absolutely certain of course, theology is a very elusive concept after all – “


Buffy interrupted with a raised hand, “Um Giles, Buffy here, not so good with the language having, small words please?”


Giles suppressed his sigh at what he considered her continued butchery of his beloved mother tongue and carried on, “but what they have deduced, I mean ‘concluded’, is that when a human is bitten, and blood is exchanged, a primal, eh excuse me, I mean ‘ancient’, demon emerges within them. This demon battles with the soul, darkness fighting light if you will. The demon is always stronger, possibly something to do with human weakness, but more likely to do with the extreme strength of evil within the demon. The soul is banished from the human, leaving behind a husky shell for the demon to wear.”



Buffy felt her heart constrict a little in her chest. This was the explanation she had come up with herself by piecing together the little bits of Giles’ teaching which had stuck. The way he’d phrased it though, his mentioning of the ‘extreme strength of evil within the demon’, had her resolve not to cry in front of her watcher wavering. Was Spike, after everything, just another evil demon?
Her next question came without pause, “And not having a soul, what does that mean, really?”



Giles rubbed his brow. “Again, that’s a difficult question to answer. In the case of vampires it means that they have no conscience, they cannot distinguish between right and wrong. And, of course, they cannot love. They do not care for anything beyond their own existence, and making that existence last as long as possible.”



Buffy nodded vaguely, but was immediately lost in thought. It seemed that Spike had a conscience most the time, though he did occasionally do or say things which could argue otherwise. But it was the thought of his loving, or not loving, which had Buffy really worrying. Had Spikes feelings for the woman who Angelus had so cruelly destroyed been love? Or merely obsession? Had he genuinely cared for her? Or had he viewed her only as a possession?
It was impossible for Buffy to know for sure, she hadn’t been there and Spike had not spoken to her about it apart from in the briefest manner.


If he couldn’t love, if he was incapable of it, then how did he see her? It was true that they had never said the words, neither of them had been very open about how they felt for the other, but Spike looked at her sometimes, and his eyes were so open, so full of... what? What was the name of the emotion she could see swirling in the mesmerising blue? Love? Lust? Selfish desire?


The path they had been headed on had seemed so clear only a day before, now it was so messed up. Buffy knew she needed to see him, speak to him, to find out for certain, one way or another. But the thought that he didn’t have a soul, and what that would mean, scared her witless. It would be worse than losing him to hell.



Buffy remembered belatedly what she had thought of last night, her beyond creepy meeting with Tarot, the messenger of the Powers that Be. He’d said that every time Spike had done a reading he had pulled the death card. Back then she hadn’t really considered the implications of that. She wasn’t well versed in what the different cards meant, but she felt it was safe to assume that death was never of the good. What if it had meant actual deaths, deaths which Spike would cause? Though her chest panged painfully at how quickly she was betraying her trust in her saviour, Buffy had to know. Her next question for Giles sprung from that errant thought.


“Giles, in tarot cards, what does the death card mean?”



Giles’ eyebrows shot way up again, it took him a minute to get his head round the sharp turn the conversation had taken. To him the questions seemed unrelated. He was desperate to know what they meant to Buffy, but after his little chat with Spike the other day he decided to wait, and trust in her to tell him things when she was ready. Giles had been doing a lot of thinking, and Spike had been right. Buffy wasn’t a little girl. She wasn’t a tool, to be wielded by the council the way they wanted. She was a young woman, she was the slayer for pities sake. She had proven herself to have more physical power, and more internal strength, in her little finger then all the Council of Watchers put together. She was more than capable of making her own decisions. Giles was grateful that Spike had made him aware of the way he had been, how he had been inadvertently manipulating Buffy. Just because what he thought was right wasn’t always what she thought was right didn’t make her wrong. He had to show her that he had the faith in her she deserved.
Giles was so glad he had the chance to correct this error now, before it became an issue which could potentially drive them apart in the future. His occasionally frustrating little charge had filled the place of family in his heart. His own family had always been sadly lacking, Giles hadn’t realised how much he needed a real one until Buffy had shown him. Despite the different blood which flowed in their veins to him she was a daughter, his only daughter, and he would do what every good father must – send her out into the world on her own two feet, and trust that if she fell down she’d ask him to help her get back up.


Right now her questions might be confusing him, but for whatever reason she needed them answered. “The death card? Hum, well, I er, I’m not as familiar with the meanings of Tarot as I perhaps should be, being a self proclaimed expert on all things of the occult, but I do have a book around here somewhere... let me see...” And Giles was off on a book hunting search, which took him around the room twice.


Despite the painful turbulence flooding her head and heart, Buffy couldn’t suppress a small, affectionate smile at the sight. “Giles, you’d think that a big nerd – I mean, a really good librarian, like you, would have a decent filling system.”



Giles rolled his eyes, a habit he was annoyed to find he’d picked up from the often overwhelmingly irritable teenagers with which he spent most of his time. “I do have a filling system Buffy, all the books are ordered alphabetically by title, and then cross referenced with author and date of publication. If you’d ever bothered to look, you’d see I’ve actually put little numbers on their spines. See?” Giles pointed at one in an over dramatic gesture that would have made even Spike proud.



“Ah”, Buffy swallowed the angry ball of pain thinking of Spike inspired and looked at Giles with confusion. “Then why are you taking so long to find the book?”



Giles threw up his hands in frustration, “Because I can’t remember what the blasted things called, when it was bloody written or who by!”



Buffy smiled at his expression. “Oh.”



“Yes, quite.”




Sometime later however Buffy was pouring over the book Giles had eventually, triumphantly, shoved in front of her. She flipped through manically until she found the page she wanted. La Mort. Death. The book had a picture of the card, with a very not-of-the-happy-inspiring illustration, and a definition;



Upright - The beginning of a new life. As a result of underlying circumstances transformation and change. Major changes. The end of a phase in life which has served its purpose. Abrupt and complete change of circumstances, way of life and patterns of behaviour due to past events and actions. Alterations.

Ill Dignified or Reversed - Change that is both painful and unpleasant. A refusal to face the fear of change or change itself. Agonising periods of transition. Inertia. Lethargy. Mental, physical or emotional exhaustion.



Buffy read through the meanings several times. It seemed it didn’t mean death in the literal sense, but the kinda vague meanings it did have were in no way reassuring. She didn’t know if Spike had pulled the card facing upright or reversed. Either way badness could be read into it.

‘The end of a phase in life which has served its purpose. Abrupt and complete change of circumstances, way of life and patterns of behaviour due to past events and actions.’ – Spike deciding to no longer be the saviour of slayers?


‘Change that is both painful and unpleasant. Agonising periods of transition.’ A change that would be painful, unpleasant and agonising, but for who? Buffy’s heart hurt to think that it could be Spike affected in such a way, but her heart hurt equally thinking that it could be a change he would inflict on others.


Her head ached. Without being consciously aware of it her hands began to turn the pages, until they found what else they had been unconsciously looking for. La Justice. Justice.


Upright - Amicable and favourable resolution of conflicts. Triumph over bigotry and prejudice. Clarity. Fairness. Arbitration. A straightforward choice. Judgement.

Ill Dignified or Reversed - Injustice. Inequality and bias. Separations not yet ratified or legalised. Delay. imbalance. Complicate negotiations. Unfair or delayed judgement.


She almost laughed when she read the definition. Clarity? A straightforward choice? That was so not the case here. Judgement? She considered that for a moment. Being the Slayer meant she was often judge, jury, and executioner. It wasn’t her choice, it was just the way the gig worked. And here she was, yet again, having to judge. But this time she was judging Spike, her Spike. Her feelings for him, coupled with her experience of a soulless Angel were tearing her in two. Was she being bigoted? Prejudiced? Or was she being fair, considering the circumstances?



It was just so hard. She knew that to really get some answers she’d have to talk to Spike, but if she saw him, if he confirmed her worst fears, she’d have to turn away from him and it would break her. She honestly didn’t think she’d have the strength.



Giles had been quietly watching Buffy as she read, he saw the emotions playing on her face, pain being among the foremost. He was desperate to know what was wrong, what he could do to take her pain away.
“Buffy? Are you alright?”


Buffy gave a tormented sigh, and allowed a tear to fall before hastily brushing it away with a trembling hand. “Not really Giles, no. But – I don’t think – I can’t talk about it right now.”



Giles was tempted to push the issue, but he didn’t. Buffy would tell him, when she was ready. “Alright Buffy, but you know that I’m here for you, when you need me.”



Buffy’s smile was watery, “Thank you.”



The harshly ringing phone broke the moment. Buffy’s heart instantly began to drum a wild beat in her chest. Spike. Spike. Spike.


She knew it was him as surely as if she’d watched him dial. She could feel him.


Giles stood up but before he could answer Buffy chocked out a strangled “Wait! Giles, can you not tell Spike I’m here? I can’t talk to him right now”.


Giles raised an eyebrow, but nodded. How she knew it would be Spike on the other end he had no idea, but he was beginning to get an inkling of what was wrong with Buffy.



Before Giles could even say hello Spikes voice was coming out loud and clear. And irritated.
“Bloody hell watcher, had one too many doughnuts have we? Took time enough for you to get your lardy arse off the sofa didn’t it?”

Giles was at a bit of a loss as to what to reply, which didn’t matter much because Spike wasn’t finished ranting.

“You’d think a watcher, livin under the constant threat of doom and bloody gloom would be a bit quicker to answer his soddin phone. Never mind though eh, s’not as if I was ringin about anythin important. You go back to doin your puzzle, or tryin to get a shag or whatever you were doin.”


Buffy could hear Spike from her position on the couch. The timber of his voice was doing havoc to her heart rate while what he was saying was causing a bittersweet smile to pull at the corner of her mouth. God how she missed him.


Giles opened and closed his mouth. “Uh, well, I’ve just gotten out of the uh, shower, and it took me a moment to reach the phone.”


There was a pause.

“Thanks a soddin bunch watcher, that’s really an image a bloke needs first thing in the morning, you gettin wet and soaped up. I suddenly have the need to drink a hell of a lot.”


Giles turned a deep red, “That aside, um, well how is your mission going? Have you had any luck locating this Anna person?”


Spike sighed. With her enhanced hearing Buffy heard it. She couldn’t block out the sound of his voice, just as she couldn’t stop the tremors that coursed through her body at the sound of it. She wanted to hold him, to make him sigh in pleasure, not frustration. She wanted to trace the lines of his face, and have him trail his lingering kisses along her neck. She wanted him. She had to force herself to remember his deception. No matter how intimately it felt like she knew him, she didn’t know him at all. Not really. If she didn’t keep reminding herself of that her resolve would crumble and she would be running to LA to throw herself in his arms.



“It turns out Hell A’s a lot soddin bigger then I remember. And everyone in its a lot thinner. And more orange. I went to Anna's old apartment last night, but she’s moved on. Met up with a couple of contacts last night, and they told me roughly what area she was in. I found her place, but she wasn’t there. Turns out she’s trackin a pack of werewolves somewhere up north.”



Giles rubbed his forehead. “A pack?”


Buffy heard Spike inhale and could practically see him pacing around restlessly and chain smoking away.


“Yes Rupes, a pack, as in more than one, try to keep up will you? It doesn’t often happen, wolves banding together, they’re even more territorial than vamps. When they do though they’re damn near unstoppable in wolf form. I’m gonna have to go try and find her, help her take them out so she can get to Sunnyhell quicker. Unless your research’s turned up a better plan?”


Giles leaned heavily against the counter. “I’m afraid not. I was up until inhumanly late last night trying to find another course of action, but I couldn’t find one. That doesn’t mean I wont though. My books have never let me down yet.”


Spike snorted. “Well in that case I’ll go with my plan.”



“How do you expect to find Anna if you only know she’s up north somewhere?”


“God you're dim in the mornin. Use your noggin watcher, I’ll do a locator spell. Was gonna do one the minute I got here, but I fancied meetin up with some of my contacts, seein whats been goin on lately. A lot of sod all apparently.”



Giles felt a little foolish. “A locator spell. Oh yes, of course.”



“Anyway watcher, can I speak to the slayer?”



Buffy’s eyes widened and she made frantic headshaking gestures in Giles direction, which were impossible for him to miss.
“Uh Buffy? I’m afraid Buffy’s not here right now Spike.”



Spike snorted. “Yes she is, I can hear her breathing.”



Giles was speechless for a moment. “You – you can hear her breathing? Over the phone?”


“Well yeah, she breathes loud.”


Buffy was still shaking her head. Giles didn’t like lying to Spike, but Buffy obviously didn’t want to speak to him.



“That’s um, thats not Buffy, that’s Willow. She er, came over early to do some research.”



“Well that’s a load of bullocks. I know the difference between Red and the slayer Rupes. Put her on the line. And we’ll get to why you were showering while she was in the house later on.”

There was a definite growl to Spikes words. He didn’t mean what he was insinuating, he was just frustrated and confused as to why Giles would lie to him.



Giles got very flustered, he wasn’t sure what to do for the best. Buffy fled to the bathroom and made his decision for him. “She’s a little busy at the moment Spike, can I get her to call you back?”


“Yes you bloody well can. And you can tell her that whatever’s got her panties in so much of a bunch that she doesn’t want to talk to me won’t get sorted out until she does. Stupid chit.”


“Did you want me to tell her she’s a stupid chit?”


The only response Giles got was the dial tone as Spike hung up.




Buffy left Giles not long after, she still hadn’t told him what was wrong, but she seemed more upset than ever.

Buffy just wanted to be alone, in the dark of her bedroom. She wanted to sleep, to get lost in unconscious thoughts and have a moment to forget the horrible duel pain of Spikes absence, and Spikes lies.


That day, as Buffy tried to block out the world, the world wouldn’t let her be. The phone rang almost as soon as she got through the door. Buffy had to clamp her hands to her sides to prevent her answering. After the phone rang for the sixth time in an hour Buffy unplugged it.


She still couldn’t sleep.



Xander stopped by that afternoon, sent by an anxious Giles who hadn’t been able to get hold of Buffy.

Only the inner certainty of knowing she would have felt Spikes presence if it was him made Buffy open the door.

When she saw Xander standing there she almost wished she hadn’t. She loved her best friend dearly, but she wasn’t in the mood for his bad jokes.


As Buffy was wearing only fairly skimpy pj’s Xander didn’t notice the grey twinge to her skin, the red and puffy state of her eyes or her obvious lack of joy at seeing him.


He walked straight on into the house without waiting to be invited. “Hey Buffster! I’m here on a Giles sanctioned mission. You know there’s been this funky knew invention called the telephone, you might want to learn how to answer one.” Xander flopped into a chair. “Have you got any cookies? I’m in need of some sugary goodness. Cordy’s been driving me mad –“ He put on a high, whiny, and eerily accurate imitation of Cordelia’s voice. “ – You never take me anywhere! You never buy me anything! Blah blah with a dollop of blah on the side.”



Buffy couldn’t really think of anything to say, other than “Where’s Willow?”


Xander rolled his eyes, “Oz is sick or something so she’s ‘looking after him’. She’s spending all of her time with him these days. I don’t get it. Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy and all, but he’s not really Mr conversation, you’d think she’d prefer to hang out with her best friends.”


Buffy’s lips twisted into a small smile, “Yeah, cause with all the research and dangerous monster slayage and deadly situations we’re way more fun to be around then a nice normal boy who crushes majorly over her.”


“Exactly!” Xander clearly didn’t get the sarcasm.


Buffy fiddled with the throw on the couch. “So, what did Giles want me for? Did he have a break through with the research?”


Xander suddenly looked a little sullen, “Nah, he just got a call from captain peroxide he wanted to tell you about.”


Buffy tried to feign a lack of interest, even though the blood was pounding unnaturally loudly in her ears.


“Oh?”


The fact that Buffy hadn’t emitted a girly squeal and gotten all excited over the mention of the bleached menace improved Xander’s mood instantly, as did remembering the message Giles had asked him to pass on.


“Yeah, apparently he’s located that wolf hunter woman, contacted her and offered her his services in the ‘job’ she’s working on, in exchange for her coming here and helping us. She was keen on the idea apparently, had been beginning to worry she couldn’t take out the whole pack on her own or something. He said it was going to take a few days for him to reach her, she’s in Alaska or somewhere, and he might be gone for a week. Giles was majorly wigging about it, said it only left us with a week or so to find the werewolf, but if this woman’s as good as short and irritating says she is then that should be plenty of time.”


Buffy nodded and murmured agreements, like she knew she was supposed to, but inside her heart was breaking just a little more. This job Spike was going to be helping that Anna on was going to be dangerous. If one werewolf could do as much damage as Giles said than taking on a whole pack of them was practically suicidal. She wanted to ring Spike, tell him to come home, tell him that they would find another way to kill the werewolf. She knew he wouldn’t listen to her but she still wanted to try. She didn’t want him gone, especially not for a whole week. Especially when she didn’t know what he was doing or if he was ok. She’d have to answer the next time he called. She didn’t know what she’d say to him, but the need to hear his voice was clawing at her gut, and it was only getting worse.



After she heavily hinted, and in the end actually insisted, that Xander should leave so she could have a lie down he finally did, but he was very disgruntled about it.


“We never hang out any more Buff, not in the fun teenage high jinks way. You completely baled on the Bronze the other night. You’re always with Spike, and even when he’s not here your too busy moping about it to hang out with your friends. You know, your best and completely not undead friends.”


Buffy sighed, she so didn’t want to get into that discussion, but Xander was right, she had been more than a bit self centred, or Spike centred, lately. She loved her friends, she didn’t want them to think she was taking all the sacrifices they’d made for her for granted.

“I’m sorry Xand, I know I’ve been a bit Buffy-of-the-no-fun lately, but things have been a bit hectic, in a massive understatement way. I’ll make more of an effort to have some hang time, I do miss you guys.”


Xander’s face softened. “I know you have the most stressful job in the world Buff, and I know that, for a reason I can’t understand, you like spending time with captain peroxide, but we miss you too. I don't want to be selfish about it, I don't want all of your time and attention, I know how draining that can be from going out with Cordy. But me and Wills kinda love you. We kinda love you a lot.”



Buffy felt close to tears for the zillionth time that day. She pulled Xander in for a fierce hug that, while touching, had him gasping for breath and wincing.


Buffy laughed shakily and pulled away. “I love you guys too. How about a movie night? Tomorrow or something? That is if Willow gets a break from being super nurse to Oz.”


Xander smiled, “That sounds great Buffster. I suppose I’ll have to take Cordy shopping tomorrow day time or something then, try and get in her good books so she’ll loosen the leash a bit.”


Buffy wrinkled her nose. “That sounded kinda kinky Xand.”


Xander laughed, and gave an exaggerated wink, “It was meant to”.


Buffy gave him a hug of the less bone breaking variety and when he’d gone she found she was actually really glad he’d come. She didn’t feel any less torn up about the Spike situation, but Xander had reminded her that she had amazing friends who would let her lean on them and try to stop her collapsing.




Deciding it was time to face her demon, literally, Buffy plugged the phone back in, crawled into the safety of her bed with the handset and the ever comforting Mr Gordo and waited.


She didn’t have long to wait.



Ring Ring



Spike.

Buffy picked up the phone with a shaking hand after the third ring, but for Spike that hadn’t been quick enough.


“About soddin time slayer! I’ve had e-bloody-nough of you ignoring me. Now you’re gonna tell me why you’ve made me attach m’self to the phone and keep callin you like some nancy boy teenager with a crush.” Spike must’ve heard the hitch in Buffy’s breathing. His voice softened, lowered, thrumming with concern. “What’s goin on pet?”


Buffy’s stomach twisted even as her skin trembled at the sound. A million possible responses flitted through her head, what came out of her mouth was not one of them.
“You don’t have a soul.”


She gasped as she heard her own words, they came out like a slap and when she heard Spike hiss she knew the slap had made powerful contact.


Buffy had never meant to have this talk over the phone. While she couldn’t deny it was easier to talk to Spike when she wasn’t surrounded by his presence she knew it wasn’t fair to him.


It was too late now though, the damage was done.
Buffy didn’t believe in God, but she prayed to whatever higher powers there were that Spike would tell her he had a soul. Buffy prayed he would tell her she was wrong. She prayed he would laugh, and make a joke of it. She could put it down to Angel stirring things and they could forget all about it. And everything would be ok. She prayed so hard that it would be ok.



It was hideous long moments before Spike replied. When he did it was the last thing she expected to hear.
“So?”


Buffy wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. “So? Did you say so?”


“Yeah. I did.”


Buffy felt her whole body constrict until it was hard to breath, it was hard to think. Hard to do anything but hurt.
Her voice came out as an anguished whisper. “You really don’t have a soul do you?”



Spike growled, and it was a truly scary sound. “No I bloody don’t. I don’t have that shiny bit of untouchable nothin inside me you humans call a soul, and I’ll say again, so? What does it matter?”



Every word Spike spoke chilled her blood a little more. “How can you even ask me that? After what happened with Angel how can you say not having a soul doesn’t matter?”



“I’m not soddin Angel slayer! You’ve known me for months, and how many times have I tried to kill you? How many times have I tried to kill your friends or your mum? That would be a big fat none. Last time I looked I hadn't tried to take over the world either. The most evil thing I've done since I got here is eat all the watchers jaffa cakes and blame it on the bloody whelp!”


Despite the fact that Spike was practically shouting Buffy was clutching the phone so tightly to her ear her knuckles were threatening to burst through the skin.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was a whisper, but the accusation rang out like a scream.


“Because you never bloody asked. It’s not something I broadcast slayer. If the soddin council knew d’you reckon I’d still be their Saviour? Their champion? D’you think they’d let me anywhere near their precious slayers? Near you? I know having a soul doesn’t matter. Those idiots don’t.”



“Without a soul you don’t have a conscience Spike.”


Spike laughed, but it was a dark and humourless sound. “You askin me whether I have a conscious slayer? Or are you tellin me I don’t have one?”


Buffy was hurting, unbelievably so, but she was also getting angry. “Spike, without a soul you don’t have a conscious. It’s a fact.”


“According to who? The Council of Bloody Wankers? Yeah, cos they’ve never been wrong about anything have they? They hate demons slayer, all demons, and they need to make sure their greatest weapon doesn’t give a fig about them either. If you give them a conscious they’re too human aren’t they? It makes the whole slayer gig a bit too much like murder if what you’re killin has a conscious, has feelings. You don’t think their view might be a little biased?”


Buffy heard what she was saying, but it was spinning her round, turning her upside down and confusing her. She clung rigidly to the only thing she had which could stop her drowning, she clung to what she had been told, what she knew. “I kill demons because they're evil. Without a soul they don’t know the difference between right and wrong. They do what they want when they want and damn everyone else.”



“I’ll give you that Slayer. Some demons are evil. Maybe even most. But that’s not because they don’t have a conscious, it’s because they chose not to listen to it. I know the difference between right and wrong, that’s why I don’t rip Xanders neck open and bathe in his blood, no matter how much I want to sometimes.
Lets turn the tables shall we? How about human murders, slayer? Rapists? Where do you stand on them? Their conscious doesn’t seem to be functionin quite right does it? And yet they have a soul. Does that mean they’re not evil then?”


Buffy didn’t know what to say in reply. Her heart was throbbing so painfully it was hard to think.
She remembered Giles patiently answering her questions that morning – god had it only been a few hours ago? – Giles wouldn’t lie to her, he wouldn’t have told her anything he didn’t think was true.Giles wasn't stupid, he wouldn't just go along with what the Council said if he didn't think it was right. And the Council had to be right because they were the Council... Buffy hated the Council, thought they were interfering idiots, scared old men who needed a little girl to fight for them. But they were the Council, they had to be right. If they weren't then...

“You can’t love”



Buffy had barely spoken the words, she hadn't meant to do anything but think them, but Spike had heard her.
Buffy could feel him stiffening, could see the way his blue, blue eyes had darkened. She could see him as clearly as though he was in the room with her, and oh how it hurt.


His voice went lower still, laced with bitter anger, pain, regret. “Oh, I can’t love? Someone ought to have told my soddin heart that then, it doesn’t seem to have had the memo.

Let me tell you something Slayer, seein as you’re all about the brutal honesty today. I love, just like you.
You’ve got your family and friends, you had captain forehead. You’ve got plenty of people to love, and who love you back. In all my life I’ve loved five people, had five people who I would consider family. And when I say loved them I don’t mean desired, or obsessed over, or wanted to possess. I mean really loved, as in cared more for them than for any other soddin thing on this earth, cared more for their existence then my own.
Three of them were beautiful women, including my mum. And I had to see each of them die, because I couldn’t save them. D’you have any idea how that feels? How it feels to love someone so much you’re drowning in them? To love with your whole bloody being, with everything you are, everything you have. To love like it’s the only thing you can do, because you’ll die if you don’t, and then have it taken away?
Almost every time I’ve loved someone I’ve lost them Slayer. And over the years it’s broken me, bit by bit. I don’t want to love now, because I really know what it means, I know where it can lead. But just because I don’t want to love doesn’t mean I can’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t.”



The raw pain and the honesty rang in every syllable Spike had spoken. The depth of his emotion, emotion a soulless demon shouldn’t have been able to feel, shook Buffy to her core. He wasn’t lying to her. She was sure of that. But she wasn’t sure of what it meant.


Spike sighed, and he sounded so lost Buffy wanted to hold him, to make everything alright. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even say anything to make it better, she couldn’t help him feel found, not when she was just as lost herself.

“Slayer I’ve got to go. Werewolves to hunt. Before I do, I want you to remember somethin for me, remember somethin and try to believe it. I might not have a soul, but I have a heart. I live by it and I’ll die by it. I’m not much known for being a thinker, sometimes I make some wrong calls, some wrong bloody decisions, but I follow my heart, my feelings, and usually it doesn’t lead me wrong.
This might not mean much comin from a soulless demon, but I think that since the first time I had a vision about you... with you’re stupid shampoo commercial hair bouncin all over the place... since then, my heart’s been leading me to you.
I won’t apologise for what I am. Or for what I’m not. I haven’t always been honest with you, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me. But one thing you have to know, you have to understand, I never meant to hurt you pet. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Knowin I did is breakin me, but I can’t make it better. Only you can. If you want to get passed this, if you want us to have a chance at somethin you’re gonna have to step out of your black and white world and join me in the gray one.
I’ll understand if you can’t slayer, but I hope you try. I need you pet. Need you so bloody much.”



The dial tone buzzed loudly, sounding strangely bleak.



Buffy replaced the phone, and lay back. Her eyes were wide and brimming. Her voice was quietly intense as she whispered into the night, “Be careful Spike. I need you too.”






The next day Giles rang Buffy to tell her that he’d heard from Spike again, but Spike had made it clear that it would be the last time he'd call until he returned.
“He seemed very out of sorts, not like himself at all. And it was almost as though he was angry with me about something, though I can’t for the life of me think what I could have done. Unless he feels I’m not doing enough to discover the identity of the werewolf perhaps? But he knows I’m doing all that I can. Have you spoken to him Buffy? Do you know why he, er, seems so out of humor with me?”


Buffy knew alright. Spike blamed the Council, and so inadvertently blamed Giles, for how she had reacted to learning that he didn’t have a soul. She couldn’t say that of course, but Giles sounded so much like a child who'd been told off she tried to sound a little reassuring.
“No Giles, he hasn’t said anything to me. Maybe he was just stressed about the mission? It is going to be dangerous.” Her heart was screaming TOO DANGEROUS, but she tried to block out the deafening sound of her feelings. “Did he – did he ask about me?” she was horribly aware of how small and fragile her voice sounded.



Giles was too, but he was still trying to stick to his new policy of letting her come to him with her problems, rather than forcing his own solutions on them for her. His voice was gentle. “He asked me to be a ‘good little watcher’, and watch out for you. I thought you’d spoken to him?”



Buffy felt another helpless tear force its way down cheeks that had yet to fully dry. She swallowed the burning lump which had formed in her throat. “I spoke to him last night, but I haven’t today.”


“Oh, well he only just phoned me, maybe he’s been trying to phone you and I’ve been here jamming up the line. I’ll let you go Buffy, I’m sure he’ll want to speak to you before he sets off.”


Buffy wasn’t sure of that at all, but murmured agreements and said goodbye.



She hung up the phone and stared at it against her will. It rang again a couple of times that day, but it was never Spike on the other end.







The days passed with agonising slowness for Buffy, each minute a torture which had to be endured to progress to the next. She hadn’t forgotten her promise to Xander, so even though Willow claimed Oz was sicker and bailed, Buffy and Xander had a movie night. Buffy couldn’t eat the pizza, and she couldn’t watch the film. But she could talk to Xander. Asking about him, about all the non scooby related things he’d been up to and all the things Buffy had missed out on in recent weeks, reminded Xander that she still cared about him, and distracted her a fraction from the searing agony that was her heart.

Last nights conversation with Spike played on a loop, echoing in her head no matter how hard she tried to block it out. Every time she ran through it she ended up being more confused than before. Some of what Spike had said made sense, it scared her and warmed her at the same time and let her hope that she hadn’t lost him. But then she remembered her slayer training, she remembered everything Giles had ever said about souls. Most of all she remembered Angelus. Then she could see nothing but heartbreak on her future.



Joyce had gone off on a buying trip which would last at least until Spike came back. Willow spent most of the week MIA, or at Giles’, talking even less than usual and keeping her head stuck in some book or another. Cordelia was making more demands on Xander’s time, so he wasn’t around much and Giles was still plugging away at the research, hoping that he might find another way of dealing with the werewolf and perhaps find a way back into Spikes good graces.



All this meant that Buffy spent most of the week on her own. She was pleased in a way, trying to pretend to be happy regular Buffy was too damn hard at the moment, and the urge to cry was often too strong to ignore. On the other hand she had nothing to distract her, nothing to pick her spirits up from where they lay so crumpled on the floor. She knew she should have told Giles, this was not the sort of thing she should keep from him. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. It would all become to real then, Giles would make it a real issue, with real consequences, and Buffy just couldn’t cope with that right now, not when her mind was in such a constant state of flux.


Thoughts of Spike were with her constantly. Was he ok? What was he doing? Did he miss her?

She missed him so much it was like a physical ache. It was lucky that patrols had been so quiet lately, because Buffy was so distracted she was often unprepared for the fights when they came.

The question that kept returning to her, like an unshakable fever, was whether she and Spike could ever have what they had been so close to having with each other.

When she asked herself what Spike had been to her the answer turned out to be surprisingly simple. Everything.

He had somehow or another become everything to her.
He made life about more than just living, he made it about being alive.
Spike was so vibrant so full of energy, so full or power and excitement.


He could thrill her with a look, drive her to the brink of madness with a touch, and draw her anger forward with a word. He was annoying. He was irritating. He was beautiful. He was incredible. He was hers.


Darkness and light met within his eyes and it took her breath away.


He was everything.


But was he still?


Most the time she thought no, no she couldn’t possibly see him the same way, couldn’t possibly continue having the boundless depths of trust for him she had had before. He was not the person she thought she knew.


At other times, mainly times in the protective cover of night, when she was nearing exhaustion, the barriers she constructed during the day began to lower.
At those times she was honest with herself. It hurt. He had hurt her. But he was still in her heart, he had become part of the fabric of it. Impossible to cut out.
He was still everything.


If she continued having a relationship with him she would be going against her calling, her watcher, going against the Council and everything they believed and taught.


If she stopped her relationship with Spike she would be going against her heart, and every fibre of her being.



Buffy had two ways to jump. But she couldn’t decide. She was caught on the precipice, sick with vertigo, and not sure how to make her way down.



As it turned out, she just needed something to give her a little push...

A full week passed and Spike had still not returned.
When a further two days came and went it had gotten to the point where Buffy was trying so hard not to let the worry drive her mad that she was driving everyone else mad instead.
Giles had to unplug his phone at one point, to stop her constant calls.
Giles was sure Spike was alright, and that the job he and Anna were working on was just taking a little longer than expected. His real concern was that Spike wouldn’t be able to get Anna to them in time for her to help before the next full moon. The vision Spike had had, of a werewolf springing at Buffy’s back, began to haunt Giles’ dreams.
He had faith in Spike’s ability to save her; he just fervently hoped the ability wouldn’t have to be tested.

Xander popped round to see Buffy a few times, so she had someone to alternately rant at and cry on. Though Xander initially felt horror upon realising how much Buffy obviously cared for the Bleached-pain-in-his-ass, he knew he wouldn’t be a very good friend if he didn’t support her in her time of need. Buffy was clearly hurting over more than just Spikes absence, but, as she wouldn’t talk about it, Xander just tried to be there for her. Though she wasn’t always good at showing it Buffy really appreciated that.

Willow called a few times for updates on whether Spike was back with Anna yet. She said she'd caught whatever Oz had had, and was going to lie low for a few days. After hearing how ill Willow sounded Buffy agreed that it would be for the best.



Buffy’s feelings alternated between wishing Spike was back, and relief that she hadn’t yet had to face him.
She was constantly worried about him, but she was sure, as she had been in the past, that if something really bad had happened to him she would know. She had no basis for believing this, there was no possible reasoning for it. She just knew, as surely as she knew her own name, that if Spike were ever to dust she would know. And she'd probably dust the next instant. Well, not dust, but die. Whatever.


Buffy was more worried that he was deliberately staying away, that he hated her for what she'd said, or not said, and was never going to come back. The numbers on the keypad of her phone were wearing out with the amount of times she’d started dialling his number, only to stop on the last digit. Spike had told Giles he wouldn’t be contactable by phone, but what if he’d only said that because he hadn’t wanted to hear from her?
What if he wasn’t off fighting werewolves at all, but had run away to some distant place to forget all about her, and then taken up with some tarty, big boobed bimbo who knew how to speak French and do that twirly thing with her tongue? Some ho who probably had a tongue stud, didn’t care about souls, and didn’t have to get her hair all full of grave dirt on a nightly basis?

After Buffy went to the mall three times to get her tongue pierced (actually making it into the chair before running away on the last time) she began to feel that insanity wasn’t far off. She retreated to the safety of her house, and settled for calming her fears by brooding in a way so horribly 'Angel' it had her shuddering.





The full moon was only four days away when a knock on the door brought Buffy out of her dream like state. She had woken unusually early that morning, and hadn’t been able to shake off the ansty feeling that something was wrong since then. She had repeated the mantra ‘you’re an irrational slayer” so many times to herself it had lulled her into a kind of sleep.

Buffy was reluctant to leave the comfort of the couch, but as the knocking continued, and became more frantic, she began to get a awful gut squeezing feeling in her stomach, and she ran to answer it.




The woman standing outside looked flustered, more than a little worried, and was quite badly out of breath. She seemed immeasurably relieved to see Buffy. “Buffy Summers?” It is isn’t it?”


Buffy took in the woman opposite her. If she’d had to guess she would have said she was about her moms age, or maybe a little younger. She was short, and had a pleasant plumpness about her. Her mousy hair was streaked with grey and pulled into a messy bun that hung haphazardly to the side. After seeing the mixture of warmth, and old sorrow, in the woman’s chocolate coloured eyes Buffy felt an impulsive liking for her.

“Yes, I’m Buffy. Can I help you?”


The woman nodded her head almost manically. “Yes, I hope you can. My name is Anna.”


Anna looked at Buffy expectantly then, but Buffy had yet to connect the dots.


“I’m Anna? Spike’s friend?”


Buffy’s first impulse was to laugh. This was the ruthless and deadly werewolf hunter? This kindly rounded lady, who looked like somebody’s mom, or a favourite teacher?
Buffy extended her slayer senses and was surprised to feel the power that radiated from Anna’s form. It was only then she noticed the slightly torn and bloodied state of Anna’s clothing. She could also make out a nasty bruise under her tufty bangs.


Her heart constricted painfully as she realised something. Anna was here, so where was Spike? Buffy couldn’t feel him, and Anna looked so concerned and she was here and Spike was not and oh god oh god oh god.

Buffy hadn’t realised she’d fallen down and started to hyperventilate until she felt Anna’s arm, strong and warm around her back.

Anna eased her off the floor and led her to a couch. She sat beside her and rubbed soothing circles between Buffy’s shoulder blades while trying to calm her breathing down.



“Dear, Spikes alive, well, as alive as he gets anyway. Please calm down, please. I didn’t mean to scare you by turning up alone.”



Buffy’s words came out as a choked sob, “He’s alive?”



Anna nodded, but bit her lip and Buffy remembered that she had come to the door asking for her help. “Where is he?”


Anna looked at her straight. “He’s in my car, I parked in the next block over so you wouldn’t be able to sense him” she sighed, “Spike was very insistent about not coming to you, he seemed to think you wouldn’t want him here, but then he passed out and I wasn’t sure what else to do...”



“He passed out?! Why? What’s wrong with him?”



Anna suppressed a wince at the hysterical sharpness of Buffy’s words, but took her hand gently and tried to urge her to sit back down on the couch she’d leapt from. “I won’t lie to you Buffy; he’s in a bad way. The pack we were dealing with was stronger, and more cunning, than we’d anticipated. I’m good at my work, I’ve hardly ever had even a scratch before, but this time... if it hadn’t been for Spike, I would be dead now. Several times over. But in the process of saving me, he got very badly hurt himself.”



Buffy’s heart didn’t think it could take the strain of the combination of dread, anguish and sheer panic. “How badly hurt?”



“He wasn’t bitten, thank heaven, but he was... ripped up, quite a bit. He’s lost so much blood his body can’t start repairing itself, and he passed out a few miles from Sunnydale. It’s his body’s only way of coping with the pain. He'll be alright, but he needs to be seen to quickly”



Buffy jumped back off the couch. “He needs blood. Now.”


Anna nodded, “Yes, but he wouldn’t let me stop anywhere on the way back, said we had to get to Sunnydale as quickly as we could, and he’s very hard to argue with, even in the state he was in. By the time he’d passed out I had no idea where the nearest butcher was, or where else I could get blood. I'm a demon you see, so my bloods no use at all. Even though he was against it I thought it would be best to bring him to you, I was able to follow the draw of slayer strength right here, get here quickly. If Spike was right, and you don’t want to see him, could you just draw me a map of where to go to get blood? I think at this point it would have to be human blood to make much of a difference.”



Buffy shook her head violently, “NO, don’t take him away! I want him here. I have blood.” Without waiting for a reply Buffy rushed to the door, “I’ll go get him, where is he?”



Looking at Buffy, and seeing the way she was acting, Anna had a sudden and startling revelation about the nature of the relationship between Spike and the Slayer. The way he’d spoken of her had made it obvious to Anna that his heart was lost, but he hadn’t seemed to think that Buffy felt the same way. Boy was he ever wrong.

“No dear, I’ll go and get the car, bring him here. If you could maybe sort out a clean needle and thread, some bandages, some clean water, and some disinfectant if you have it? We’ll have to get the wounds stitched up before we try to give him any blood, otherwise it won’t... well... stay in.”


Buffy tried to ignore Anna’s last words and immediately went off to get the things asked of her. Anna let herself out and sprinted, with surprising speed and agility, to where she’d left her car and its precious cargo.


The few minutes that passed in waiting for Anna to return felt like the longest of Buffy’s life. She hastily made a make shift bed on the couch, with clean sheets and put all the medical bits and pieces within easy reach while mentally preparing herself for seeing Spike.


Buffy had a sudden, exquisitely painful awareness of Spikes presence, which got stronger second by second. She could hardly bear feeling him so strongly and not seeing him.


She was pacing frantically back and forth on the drive when Anna pulled up. Buffy almost ripped the rear door off its hinges in her haste to get to Spike. What she saw made her body run cold in a mixture of horror at his injuries and a dark and overwhelming anger aimed at the creatures who had caused them.


Anna gently moved Buffy to one side, so she could reach in and pick up Spike. She acted as though he weighed nothing at all and carried him carefully back into the house before laying him down.


Buffy followed, fighting the irrepressible urge to put her own arms around Spike and never, ever let him go.


Now Buffy could see all of him the extent of his injuries was even worse then she’d realised. She usually had a strong stomach, but she felt like being sick. She was close to choking on the sobs that kept threatening to erupt from her throat.


Spike was shirtless, and what was left of his jeans was torn and crusted with a mixture of dried and caking blood and mud. His chest and arms had been ripped all over, clawed apart, exposing the muscles, the bones in places and a frightening lack of blood. His legs weren’t in a much better state, and his hands had become a mass of bloodied pulp.


His face though, his beautiful face, had escaped almost unscathed, apart from some claw marks to the cheek. His skin was a deathly grey green and every sharply chiselled feature was a study in pain.


Seeing that Buffy was in too much shock to do anything, Anna began the long process of cleaning, stitching together and bandaging each of Spikes wounds. Buffy, without being aware of it, had gradually moved closer to the couch, until she found herself sitting on the arm.


She ran a gentle, trembling fingertip across Spikes cheek, and was amazed to see some of the lines of pain etched around his closed eyes soften. She continued to stroke him, loving the feel of his skin beneath her fingers, but hating how cold it was.


Anna was done far sooner than a human would have been. Spike was a patchwork of bandages and gauze, but he was whole.


“He need’s blood now, as soon as possible. He’ll start healing properly once he has some in his system.”


With difficulty Buffy tore her eyes away from Spike’s face and looked at Anna, noticing for the first time how weary she seemed.

“What with the fight, and all the speedy racing down here, and the Spike fixage, you must be about ready to drop. Why don’t you have a rest? The spare rooms all made up, you could get cleaned up, get some sleep. I’ll sort out Spikes blood.” Buffy rested her hand protectively against his cheek.


Hearing the affection mingled with fierce determination in Buffy’s tone Anna smiled in relief. “That would be nice, thank you.”


“The bathroom and the guestroom are just upstairs. You don’t mind if I don’t show you the way do you? I don’t want to leave him”


Anna gave a small smile of understanding. “I’m sure I’ll find everything I need dear. Would you wake me, when he comes around?”


Buffy nodded in assent.



Once she was alone with Spike she gently eased his torso up enough that she could slip onto the couch, and lean him so his head was resting on her chest. Being careful not to pull on any of his stitches she leant over him so her lips were achingly close to his and her hair fell softly against his bandaged chest.

She spoke to him, in a low intimate voice. She knew he was unconscious, but she also knew that on some level he could hear her.

“Spike, I missed you.”
Suddenly all the heaviness she had been carrying in her heart broke free, and she couldn’t stop talking.

“God I missed you so much. I don’t know why, when you’re always teasing me, or kicking my ass, or telling Giles how ‘soddin worrin’ it is I don’t know what a stupid snafflapaff demon is. But I missed you so much it hurt. Like really hurt. All you’re little cuts? They’re nothing to how I feel when you’re not here. When you’re all better me and you are gonna have to have a proper chat Mr. One where you can actually respond.
I know, I know, I’m not one for the words, and I get all avoidy Buffy at the thought of ‘actual’ conversations, but we need to have one. Cause really, soul or no soul, I don’t think I could live without you. Pathetic huh? Don’t go broadcasting that though ok? Otherwise every vamp and demon that wants to kill me will come after you, and you’re clearly not as kick ass as you think you are.
And I definitely prefer you conscious, insults, innuendoes and stupid sexy smirks (which should totally be illegal by the way) aside.
You’re never allowed to scare me like this again either, or you will have one seriously ‘brassed off’ slayer to deal with. You’d better be listening to me Spike, and not playing some stupid punk music in your head.

I offered you my blood once before, do you remember? And you were being all stupid and noble and British about it, said you wouldn’t take it when you needed it, you’d only take it when I wanted you to have it. Which really makes no sense y’know?
Well, right now, you need my blood to get better. And more than anything in the world, even more than having a pair of killer designer boots, I want you to get better.” Buffy turned her head, brushing her lips against Spikes before lightly pressing her neck onto them.

She whispered her next words softly, “I want you to bite me Spike. I trust you, I know you won’t take too much.”


Spike was unconscious but he heard his slayer, he could have been dust scattered on the wind and he would have heard his slayer. His demon heard her too.

It should have been impossible for him to go into game face. He had no strength left, he was practically drained, but her blood called to him like a siren. She called to him like his life force.

Buffy felt Spikes bones shift, though she couldn’t see him.
She’d been hoping so desperately that he’d bite her that she’d forgotten to brace herself for the pain.

The pain never came.

His fangs slid effortlessly into her, and the feeling of such an intimate connection had Buffy trembling with unexpected need. The first pull he took of her blood pulled on something deep inside her, something rapturous and wonderful .

It was like coming home.
It was like finding an anchor in a storm.
It was a slow and steady building to bliss.
If the Masters bite had been a touch of hell, this was a touch of heaven.


An orgasm slammed into her with tidal force, knocking the breath out of her lungs.


Spike had only taken a few pulls of Buffy’s blood when his game face receded. Buffy felt his tongue swirl over the wounds to seal them and the shivers it inspired boosted her orgasm further.


With her breathing heavy Buffy turned her head slightly so that her trembling lips were, once again, brushing against Spikes.


This time his eyes were open. The blue of them was fathomless, blinding in its intensity.
One look at the expression is his eyes and the last lingering doubt in her heart, the doubt waving the ‘Only a soul=good’ banner, disappeared.


Spike’s voice was husky, but the sound of him breathing her name onto her parted lips had her coming again.

Her own unsteady voice spoke in ways words never could. “Spike. You’re home.”

Spike’s voice was husky, but the sound of him breathing her name onto her parted lips had her coming again.

Her own unsteady voice spoke in ways words never could.

“Spike. You’re home.”


Spikes head was spinning. Too much to take in, too much to feel.

The whole time he had been away, right up until the pain of his injuries had made him lose consciousness, all Spike had thought about was Buffy.

Buffy, his golden goddess with a heart he thought he had lost. He knew he should have told her about his soul, or lack thereof. He knew he should have told her right from the beginning, but it was not information he usually shared. The majority of demons he knew could sense that he didn’t have one, but they were often in the same position. The humans he’d known couldn’t tell, and he had always considered that as a good sign, they had taken for granted that he was soul having, basing their high opinion of him on his actions alone. For Spike it had never really mattered anyway. He knew what he was, how he felt and how he thought. He had seen a great many things in his life, he knew a soul was no measure of goodness, just as he’d known Buffy wouldn’t agree.

He should have told her. She wasn’t just any human. She was Buffy. She was special. Spike had known that the minute he’d laid eyes on her, she wasn’t just someone who would pass in and out of his life.
The more he’d gotten to know her the more he came to the terrifying realisation that she was his life.

Spike had loved before. He knew what loving felt like. What he felt for Buffy was so much more than that. He hadn’t even realised how much more until that bloody awful phone call.

He thought he’d lost her then. It wasn’t like when he’d sacrificed himself to save he-of-the-massive-forehead. That had hurt, but mainly because of the soddin great sword wound he'd sustained. He’d known at the time that no matter where he’d ended up he would find his way back to Buffy.

But when he’d hung up the phone that night he thought he’d really lost her. She had learnt what he was and she didn’t like it. The council had worked their evil mojo on her and she couldn’t see beyond the prejudice their teachings had instilled. To her he was a monster, no better than Angelus.

He didn’t blame her for believing what she had been taught. He did blame her for not believing him.
Buffy knew him, maybe she didn’t know his past, but she knew him in the ways that really mattered, probably better than anyone ever had. And she’d still turned away from him.

But now he was looking up at her, and she was looking right back, their faces so close as to be practically touching.

He hurt like hell. He could feel his muscles beginning to knit back together, his broken bones becoming whole once more, and it wasn’t a comfortable experience, but it was hard to focus on the pain when he had Buffy before him, and the mind tilting knowledge that it was slayer blood, her blood, helping him heal.

It took Spike a moment to register the words Buffy has spoken. He had watched the way her lips moved, fascinated by the sight of them so tantalising close to his own, but he had to replay the words several times before the meaning hit him.

Welcome home Spike. Welcome home.

He was home. Whose home? He knew it wasn’t his, it was too bright, too warm. Though looking away from Buffy was the last thing he ever wanted to do, Spike glanced quickly to the side of her. They were in her living room.

He wasn’t sure whether to be angry with Anna for doing the exact opposite of what he’d said, or whether he should throw her some sort or parade for bringing him to Buffy.

Home. The way she said it would have had his heart racing if it was able to. It was like she thought of her home as his.

And of course there was the other word she’d used. Welcome. He was welcome. He was sure the look in her eyes confirmed the suspicion. She was glad to have him back.

Despite the fact that forty percent of his bones were still broken and it was unusually painful for him to keep his eyes open Spike had never been so happy.

Of course he needed to talk to Buffy, needed to have it all cleared and out in the open. He needed to know how she felt, make sure she knew how he felt. He wanted to talk to her right that second, he didn’t want to wait another moment before kissing her sweet mouth, but he underestimated how weak he still was. Completely against his own wishes Spike’s eyelids fluttered closed.

He didn’t remember anything after that until the next time he woke. He certainly didn’t remember the two words he managed to speak on his final conscious breath. But Buffy remembered them. And every time she thought of them afterwards her heart would swell a little more.

Missed you.



It was several hours later that Spike regained consciousness again.

During that time Buffy rang Giles to let him know what was going on. She watched Spike sleep. She called up Xander and asked him to pick up some blood from the butchers, not reckoning Xander’s sneaking skills were up to stealing human blood from the hospital. She wasn’t sure if Spike would take more slayer blood when he was actually conscious, though she would sure as hell offer.

Buffy watched Spike sleep some more. She tried to eat something. She called her mom to fill her in on the latest and was pleased to hear she’d be home the next day. She stroked Spikes hair and watched as the bruising that marred his beautiful body began to slowly fade. She rang Willow, but couldn’t get a response.

When Anna woke and came back down stairs she checked on Spikes progress and was amazed at how he was coming along. “It’s incredible! I know Spikes a quick healer, but even for him this is something else entirely, I can’t imagine how his body is repairing itself so quickly!”

Buffy gave a non committal shrug and tried to discreetly ensure her neck was covered. She wasn’t ashamed of having let Spike feed from her, she was proud and ridiculously pleased that she’d been able to help him, but she wanted to talk to Spike about it first.

Anna had washed, neatened her hair and changed into some of the spare clothes she’d had in the car. The bruise on her head was the only indication of her near death experience.
Seeing her almost maternal concern over Spike renewed Buffy’s initial warmth towards the woman. If she hadn’t known she would never have guessed that Anna was a demon.

Once Anna was sure that Spike would be fine left to Buffy's care she set off for Giles’ house, with Buffy’s more than slightly confusing hand drawn map for guidance.


Knowing that between Giles and Anna the werewolf problem would soon be solved Buffy allowed herself to relax slightly and just enjoy being with Spike. Even unconscious he was her favourite person to be around.

Seeing him there, so vulnerable and yet so strong, Buffy knew with certainty that she couldn’t be without him. Not ever. Soul or no soul, he was Spike and she wanted him in her life as much as she needed him in it. She wasn’t sure what she would say to him when he was finally awake, but the words would come. They would get past this. No matter what life threw at them they would get past it.

They would always find a way.


Buffy noticed the minute Spikes breathing changed. She had always loved the fact that even though he didn’t need to breath to live, Spike always had. It said so much about him, and now she realised something else. Spike showed his humanity in so many ways, all of the time. He was so full of vitality, so full of light; there was no way he could ever be thought of as a soulless, disgusting thing. Buffy hated herself for ever doubting him, and was more grateful then she could express that she had the chance to make things right.


She had been sitting in the same place for most of the afternoon, on the couch with Spikes head in her lap.

Buffy stopped stroking Spikes forehead as she waited anxiously for him to wake up.

His eyes abruptly shot open, causing her to jump a little. A frown creased his forehead. His voice was hoarse from lack of use but as sinfully sexy as ever. “Why’d you stop the strokin pet? I was likin that.”

Buffy’s answering smile was almost impossibly big. “You’re awake!”

Spike chuckled, “Well spotted luv, what gave me away?”

Buffy tried to glare at him but she just couldn’t do it, not when she was finally staring into the hypnotic blue of his eyes. Suddenly all the worrying she’d been doing over what to say and how to say it seemed so very stupid. Now she had the chance to say them the words fell from her lips without thought or pause.

“I missed you. Spike, I missed you so much. I can’t believe I almost lost – I can’t believe you almost... died thinking that I - well I don’t know what you were thinking but I’d bet my last doughnut it wasn’t good.” She shook her head rapidly, “I was wrong Spike, I was so wrong. It doesn’t matter, not the soul, not anything... not when it comes to you. You’re different, we’re different. I think I knew that all along, deep down, it just took me a while to remember.” Buffy hadn’t realised she was crying until one of her tears fell on Spikes cheek. "I was stupid, and I’m sorry.” Suddenly she was crying in earnest, stifled sobs she’d been repressing. She thought she’d cried all she could in the last week, but it seemed she was wrong about that too. “Vix told me, she told me that I’d hurt you, and I thought she was just a stupid big ho bag with no fashion sense and – and bad hair, and I didn’t listen to her, but she was right wasn’t she? I did hurt you, and then I let you get hurt fighting stupid werewolves so you could come back to help stupid me. I’m so sorry Spike, please don’t – please don’t leave me again.” Her voice grew very small, very frightened, “I hate it when you leave.”

Spike had struggled in to a sitting position, it hurt his still healing body badly, but he paid it no mind. He had taken Buffy’s hands into his own and rubbed them soothingly throughout her speech. When she was finished he felt near tears himself, but he pushed them back. “I won’t ever leave you pet, not again. Not ever. As long as you want me I’ll be here. And I’m the one that should be sorry, not you. I should have told you the truth, told you up front, from the start. I was a coward and a bloody fool. I wasn’t tryin to protect you by not sayin anythin, I was tryin to protect myself. You’re my blood now Buffy, my heart, and I couldn’t lose you. I thought I had, and that hurt more than anythin those mangy dogs did to me. You’re my life slayer, my whole bloody life.”

Spike raised a slightly shaking hand, and cupped Buffy’s cheek. He brushed her tears away with the pad of his thumb and brought her head forward so their foreheads were touching. Forgetting his injuries for the moment Buffy threw her arms around his neck and buried her hands in his hair. “You’re my life too, nothing makes sense without you Spike, nothing.”

Spike let out a long exhalation. “Oh slayer, you don’t know what you do to me”.

Buffy untangled herself a little, took Spikes hand and pressed it over her heart so he could hear the way it raced. She laughed, a shaky breathless laugh, “I think I do. I’m guessing it’s something like what you do to me.”

Spike looked at her in wonder. This girl, this goddess of light and justice, this amazing girl who made his existence worth all the pain and bloodshed it had endured in the past, she seemed to feel the same way about him.
Spike’s whole being felt suffused in a warmth it had never known before. Spike had been loved in the past, he had loved and been loved in return, but this... this was something else entirely. This was heaven on earth. No, more than that, this was everything. Everything.


Without realising he had moved Spikes lips were suddenly pressed against Buffy’s. Like a spark to a fuse she responded. They set the world on fire. Time was a meaningless nothing, at that moment time, and all that it contained, was forgotten. There was no good, there was no evil. No hellmouth. No vampires. No slayers. No saviours or savings. There was just him, and her. And them.


It might have been minutes, hours or days later when they broke apart. Buffy held Spikes gaze, and each saw the same reflected feelings of beautiful wonder.


Spike was the first to speak. “Slayer, Buffy, I forgot to say thank you. Thank you for your blood.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, and made a pfft sound. “No big, I already said you could feast on me anytime.” She blushed bright red when she saw the way Spikes eyebrows rose. “I mean, you could drink from me – I mean feed from me - feed on my blood that is. Anytime.” Her eyes widened, “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot, you must need more right? I mean you only had a bit before, and then you went all land of the sleeping, and you must need more then what I gave you right?”

As she was rambling Buffy pulled the collar of her shirt down to expose the already healed bite marks Spike had left.

Spike laughed and stilled Buffy’s hands. “Slayer, it’s alright, I don’t need any more right now. Slayer bloods damn powerful stuff, and just havin you here is the best kind of healin for me at the moment. I just wanted to say thank you, you didn’t have to do that, and you have no idea how much it means.”

Buffy could see the overwhelming layers of emotion overflowing from Spike’s eyes and she thought that maybe she did have an idea. She was still concerned though. “But you must need more blood? You’re not all healed yet.”

Buffy poked him and he hissed and winced simultaneously. Her voice was apologetic but triumphant. “See?”

Spike groaned, “Bloody hell slayer, poke a man while he’s down why don’t you? I wouldn’t say no to a cup of regular blood, if you’ve got one lyin around” Buffy opened her mouth to argue but Spike cut her off, “Really pet, thank you, but you’re bloods already given my body the boost it needs to heal. Any old blood will do to help the process along now; you’re bloods too precious to waste.”

Buffy frowned but reluctantly got off the couch to head to the kitchen. “Ok but you might change your mind when you hear the options available.”

Spike’s eyebrow rose, “I’m guessing you’re not talkin about AB positive or a bit of O neg?”

Buffy gave him a wicked grin, “Nope, the choices are pig, cow or squirrel.”

Spike spluttered, “Squirrel? Where the bloody hell did you get squirrel from?”

Buffy shrugged her shoulders, “Xander got it from the butchers, in case you felt like something rodent-y and exotic.”

Spike muttered, “I knew there was a reason I hated that boy.” Then he looked at Buffy’s smiling face. Something in his stomach stirred and suddenly what kind of animal his dinner came from wasn’t important at all. “I’ll have pig please luv. Could you heat it up? And stick some Tabasco in it if you’ve got some? And add a little weetabix for texture? Make it bearable like.” Well, it wasn’t really important, but Spike did have some standards.



The next couple of hours passed in wonderful peace.
After Spike had fed Buffy felt able to eat too. She watched the ashy grey leave Spikes skin with joy and saw how the bruises that marred his body had faded from deep purple to a yellowed green.

She was so reluctant to leave the bubble of them, for even a moment, that it was with difficulty that Buffy put her selfish desires aside and picked up the phone. It took several moments for Giles to answer, which was unusual for him. When he did he sounded even more flustered than usual. “Yes? I mean, ah, hello? Rupert Giles speaking.”

“Giles? What’s up? You sound all weird and British.”

Giles was momentarily speechless. “I am British.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. What’s up? Did Anna get there ok?”

Giles responded in an unmanly, uncomfortable pitch and Buffy could practically hear him polishing his glasses. “Anna? Oh yes, yes, she arrived quite some time ago.Good lord! She arrived six hours ago! It hardly feels she's been here five minutes. How odd." Giles suddenly realised he was rambling, and tried to get back on track. "Yes, anyway, she found me just fine, despite the map she had to follow. I had no idea there were so many rivers in Sunnydale.”

“Those were roads Giles! And you so knew that. And I never said I was good at drawing, so no more bad jokes from you about my map making skills ok? Any who, how are you two getting along?”

Giles lowered his voice.“Oh, um, well we’re getting along well actually, I had no idea she would be such a warm person, and so... attractive. She’s not what I expected at all. And the demon knowledge she has! It’s remarkable, so very interesting! And she’s spent considerable time in England, not 3 miles from where I grew up, quite a coincidence don’t you think?”

Buffy pulled the handset away from her face and looked at it in horror. She glanced towards Spike, who could hear the whole conversation, and was grinning madly. He mouthed, “I thought they’d get along.”

“Giles that’s not what I meant! I meant how are you getting along with the work, you know, with the finding of the evil nasty werewolf?”

She could tell Giles was blushing madly. “Ahh you meant... I see... um, well as to that Buffy, well... we haven’t actually gotten to that yet. But we will! We were just going to set our minds to it as a matter of fact. Over dinner. A working dinner.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose, she really didn’t want any further details. “Rrright. Well as long as you talk about it at some point, seeing as how you’ve been going on about how important finding this werewolf is for like, weeks. Don’t get too... distracted or anything.”

Giles coughed uncomfortably. “Anna and I are professionals Buffy.” Buffy suddenly heard a female voice in the background. Concern, and embarrassment that the concern hadn’t been present before, suddenly coloured Giles tone “Oh, is Spike awake?”

Buffy caught Spikes sparkling eyes and smiled. “Yeah he’s awake. He’s a way off being good as new but he’s healing.”

Spike suddenly spoke up, “Tell the watcher a drop of scotch would probably help the healin process pet.”

Buffy rolled her eyes yet again. “Actually Giles, he’s fine.”

There was now relief and amusement in Giles voice, “I’m terribly glad to hear that Buffy, give him my best, and tell him I’ll see what I can do about the scotch.”

After Buffy hung up, arranging (to Buffy’s horror) that Anna would stay at Giles’ that night, and that they would both come over first thing in the morning, against his protests that she 'stop the bloody manhandling' she changed some of Spikes bandaging.
Then she got another blanket from her room, draping it around Spike and herself. She snuggled into his side, careful not to jostle him too much. They had the tv on, at a low volume, but they ignored it.
Just then they could only have attention for each other.

“Spike?”

“Yes pet?”

“We’re... together again now, aren’t we?”

Hating the trace of uncertainty which still lingered in her voice Spike ran his finger tips teasingly along her arms. “Yes pet, if you’ll have me, we’re together. If I get my way we’ll be together until the end of the world.”


Buffy shook her head and softly replied, “No. Not until the end of the world Spike. Much longer than that.”



Spike, still exhausted from the trauma his body had sustained, slowly fell asleep against his will. Buffy, lulled by the sound of his breathing and equally tired from her emotionally draining and exhilarating day, quickly followed him.




That was the second night they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Buffy woke the next morning feeling unbelievably content.

For the first time since she’d been called she felt at peace with the world and with everyone in it. Happy. So happy. Still drowsy, she ran her hands across Spikes chest, achingly tender on his bandaged wounds. She wasn’t aware of having an audience until she heard coughing. Mom type coughing.

Sheepishly Buffy turned her head to the side, and sure enough there was Joyce, her bag at her feet, her hands on her hips and a quizzical raised eyebrow.


Buffy eased herself carefully from the couch, checked that Spike was still sleeping undisturbed, and led the way into the kitchen. Joyce, unaccountably relieved by her daughters fully clothed state, followed her.


Joyce was trying not to smile as she watched Buffy fiddle nervously with the hem of her t-shirt. Putting on her best mom voice she said, “So, things with you and Spike are sorted out then? You talked about whatever was wrong?”


Buffy flushed and couldn’t help the dazzling grin that dominated her features. “Um, yeah we talked and stuff." Buffy blushed harder when she realised what she'd implied and backtracked frantically, "We watched TV... and...and ate food, and stuff like that! I told you yesterday he was in a bad way when he got here. He’s a lot better now, but I didn’t want to leave him last night, in case he had, like a relapse or – or something.”

In the face of her daughters obvious happiness Joyce found herself smiling in return. “Well, in light of Spike’s injuries I think I can ignore the ‘no boys staying over’ rule. But, if he needs to stay any longer he can sleep in the spare room. Alone.”

Buffy blushed again. “Yes mom.” Desperate to turn the conversation away from her, Spike and their sleeping arrangements, Buffy asked her mom about her trip.


By the time the door bell announced the arrival of Giles and Anna, mother and daughter had caught up on each other’s lives.

Spike had also woken and Joyce, horrified by his obvious injuries, had been quickly fussing about him.


“Let me fluff those pillows for you dear. Can I get you something to eat? Pancakes perhaps? Buffy always loved pancakes when she was sick. Are you warm enough? Are you too warm? We’ll see if you can walk soon. If you can I’ll run you a bath and get you a clean change of clothes, I’m sure I’ll have something around here that will fit.”


Buffy watched it all with amusement. Spike seemed a little bewildered by the wave of kindness and care, but he rode it out gratefully.

The idea of a bath greatly appealed to him, his wounds had bled a little around the stitching and it itched horribly.

Getting to the bath was a different matter entirely. Spike had to lean heavily on Buffy in order to move forwards at all. Progress was slow and he stumbled often. Climbing the stairs sapped most of the energy he had gained through sleep, and Buffy was alarmed to see his colour drain.

She felt a mixture of relief and concern when she removed Spikes bandages. He was definitely healing, but the improvement was nowhere near as rapid as it had been initially. He was mending, but slowly. Buffy determined to press him again to drink from her, as soon as they were alone.

Joyce had run a bath, filling it with soothing oils and laying out her fluffiest towels.
Spike gently refused Buffy’s offer of help, knowing the thought would make Joyce uncomfortable. The relief that had showed on Joyce’s face made up for how much he struggled on his own, and how frustrated he got with his own weakness.


By the time Giles and Anna arrived Spike was washed, his wounds were redressed and he was wearing some of Buffy’s father’s old clothes. Buffy hadn’t realised that Joyce had kept mementos from a marriage which had ended before they’d even moved to Sunnydale. The new knowledge made her sad, and more aware then she had ever been that her mom must often be lonely.


Spikes hair, freed from its usual gel, sprung up all over the place in unruly curls. Spike kept trying to pat them flat with obvious distaste, and Buffy kept fluffing them back up with delight. They made him look younger, less world weary, and provided such a lovely contrast with the strong planes of his face. Buffy decided that the next time she was at Spikes place she was going to chuck out any hair gel she could find.


Buffy knew, as soon as she saw the expression on Giles face, that he did not have good news to share. This was confirmed by his first words.

“I have bad news I’m afraid Buffy, bad news indeed.”

Buffy sighed loudly and stood aside to let Giles and Anna in. “Why is it never good news? Why can’t you ever come over and say, ‘Buffy, terribly good news, there’s a candy and puppies fair in town!’ that would so make for a nice change.”

Giles gave her his patented overly patient look, and followed Anna into the house.

Anna immediately rushed to Spikes side. She was obviously pleased to see Spike awake, but seemed a little nervous about how he would greet her in light of the fact she had directly gone against his request by bringing him straight to Buffy.

She needn’t have worried. As soon as she was within reach Spike grabbed Anna’s hand and pulled her in for a firm hug. The way he whispered ‘thank you’ and the happiness that shone from his eyes told Anna that the welcome Buffy had given him had been the reverse of what he’d expected.

Anna smiled at him, and patted his arm fondly. “I should be thanking you! I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you Spike. I honestly thought my luck had run out.”

Spike grinned, “It’s a good thing I’m a hot bloke with super powers then init?” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Talkin of hot blokes, I take it you and Giles got along nicely?”

Anna went beet read and swatted at him before beginning to check over his injuries. “Shhh you! Get your mind out of the gutter. Honestly! We just had a nice talk. Seeing as I spend most of my time with friends like you it makes a change for me to have intellectual, adult conversation!”

Spike gave her a ‘who are you kidding?’ look, but after hearing his name mentioned, Giles turned from where he had been exchanging pleasantries with Joyce to Spike and Anna.

Anna had completed her examination of Spikes recovery, and she made sure Buffy heard her assessment. “Much better than I was expecting, but the damage to your left leg particularly is still quite severe.” She took in Spikes obvious cleanness and shook her head sternly. “You shouldn’t have tried to get up those stairs" She waggled her finger at him, "Don’t do it again! With a regular blood intake you should be ok to move about in a couple of days, but don’t push it.”

Buffy stared involuntarily at Spikes damaged leg, before running off to get him some more pigs blood and making a big show of tucking a blanket back around him. “No more moving for you mister.”

Spike smiled at her forceful care, but inside he was counting the days to the full moon. He would be better by then. He’d make sure of it.

Giles was genuinely pleased to have Spike back in one piece, and this latest heroic act had added many points to the hero worship scale. He asked to hear the story of the fight, ooing and ahhing throughout.

Before all the gushing, and all the gruesome details, made Buffy feel too nauseated she interrupted, “Uh Giles, I don’t mean to be all doom and gloom girl, but didn’t you say you had bad news?”

Giles, who was laughing at something Spike had said, immediately sobered and looked grave.

“Ah yes, that. Well, I suppose we had better talk.”

Giles waited until Anna was seated before sitting beside her (too close to her in Buffy’s opinion). He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. A sure sign he was stressed.

Joyce made them all some tea before excusing herself, claiming she needed to unpack and catch up on some sleep. Buffy knew her mom really just wanted to be unaware of any new danger her daughter faced. Knowing about it never helped Joyce, she could never do anything to help and it made the worrying all the worse. Buffy understood and gave her a reassuring hug before she disappeared upstairs.


Buffy sat next to Spike and unthinkingly took his hand, twinning their fingers together. Giles deliberately ignored it.

“So Giles, what’s gone wrong now?”

Giles and Anna exchanged an uneasy glance, but it was Anna who answered. “This morning I tried to use my ability to sense werewolves to find the general location of the one you’re looking for. I, or rather, Giles and I, combined my natural ability with a locator spell so we could narrow down the search area as much as possible. It should have worked, but we came up against a block.”

Buffy’s interest was all awakened, but before Anna could continue Spike spoke up.

“A magical block. A barrier, shielding the werewolf, protectin it from your sight. Am I right?”

Giles eyebrows rose slightly, but Anna didn’t react. She had known Spike long enough to realise that nothing he said or knew could surprise her.

Giles nodded heavily. “That’s right, that’s it exactly. We tried to trace the spell’s origins, but it proved impossible. It was sloppily cast, which indicates the spell was not performed by a magical adept, but it was strong, too strong for us to break or bypass, which indicates great power. It is really quite alarming.”

Buffy was majorly annoyed to have yet another set back, but she didn’t see what was so alarming about the situation. “So, we still don’t know where the hairy evil is, and we don’t have a way of finding him. No big, we’ll just have to get him the old fashioned patrolling- with- sharp- heavy- objects way.”

Giles shook his head, “Buffy, this spell means that the werewolf has either some skill, and a lot of power, when it comes to wielding magical forces, or its working with someone who is. Either way, it means fighting the creature will be even more dangerous and difficult then we’d anticipated.”

Buffy turned to Spike, “Hey, you’re all good with the hocus pocus kinda stuff, couldn’t you break the spell?”

Giles stiffened, “Buffy, If I, with all my resources, couldn’t find a way then – “

Spike interrupted, “Rupes is right pet, I’m good at what I do but I mostly make things up as I go along. If he says the spell can’t be bypassed then it can’t be bypassed. I don’t like to use magic too much if I can help it, there’s always consequences to it, so there’s plenty I don’t know. Should be takin lessons from the watcher really, get my skills more well rounded like.”

Giles went from stiff to swollen with pride, “Well, Spike anytime you would like to get together and share knowledge, over a drink perhaps – I would only be too happy to impart what I know to a willing student.” When Giles said ‘willing’ he gave Buffy a significant look, which she ignored. She pinched Spike under the blanket she’d insisted he still have around him. She was sure he’d only said what he had to make her look bad in front of Giles.

“Ok then, Spike isn’t any use at all in this.” Buffy pretended she didn’t hear his affronted ‘hey!’ “What else can we do?”

“What about Willow?” Spike kept his voice as neutral as possible, hoping they might make the connection on their own.

They didn’t.

Giles shook his head. “Willow is still such a novice. She has power of course, and I’m sure with time, with years of training behind her, she might have to ability to dissolve the sort of spell we’re facing. But we don’t have time.” Giles sighed. “The full moon is only three days away. If we don’t do something to stop it people will die, and some people may be turned. We could end up with many more werewolves to deal with.”

Buffy remembered Spikes vision and felt her confidence droop. “Oh.” There was a moments silence before she rallied her spirits and said brightly, “Well we’ll find a way. We always do.”

Giles and Anna gave Buffy a small smile, but Spike stayed silent. Dots were beginning to connect in his head, and he didn’t like the picture they were creating.


For a while they all talked through possible solutions.

Giles felt certain that his precious books would eventually reveal a spell which would help. Anna, who had felt the power of the magical shield, was certain they would not. After a while the two of them began to bicker in a good natured, if not flirty, way, which meant Buffy and Spike could talk among themselves.


Buffy watched Giles and Anna interact with narrowed eyes. “I don’t like it.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, “I know, all that tweed is a bit much.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. I don’t like them being all... like that. They’re too friendly. Much too friendly.”

Spike gave her an enquiring glance. “You jealous or somethin pet? Always wondered if you might have a thing for the watcher.”

“EW SPIKE! So not what I meant!” Buffy shook her head vigorously. “Ergh, that’s totally gross!”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Buffy sighed, “Well, I like Anna and all, she seems really nice, but she’s a demon. And Giles, well, isn’t.”

Spike chuckled, “Hate to break it to you kitten but I’m a demon, and you, well, aren’t.”

Buffy was taken aback. “That’s completely different.”

Spike leaned in closer, genuinely curious. “How?”

Buffy’s forehead wrinkled as she thought. She wasn’t really sure how to answer. “It just is. It’s you. And you don’t look like a demon, or act like one.”

Spike looked at Anna, with her softly worn face, dressed in her multilayered hippyish outfit, drinking tea out of a flowery china cup. “I see what you mean. She looks like a right baby eater doesn’t she?”

Buffy chose to ignore that. “But Giles is a watcher, from the Council of ‘people good, demons bad’. His teachings are the reason why I had a hard time with the whole... soul thing. How can he just forget all that with Anna? He’s acting like she’s... human.”

Spike picked up Buffy’s hand with his own, stopping her in her attempts the pull the comforter apart. He played with her fingers, softly caressing each one in such a way Buffy very nearly forgot what they were talking about.

“He’s treating her like a human because that’s how he sees her. She hasn’t given him reason not to, and it’s easy to see what you want to see. The world isn’t black or white slayer, it’s a thousand shades of contradiction. I think you see that now. And I think your watchers beginning to. Besides, a bit of rough and tumble would probably loosen him up. God knows the uptight bugger needs it.”

Buffy’s mouth gapped open. “Please don’t say things like that. You’re scarring me.”

Spike gave her a wicked grin, but decided the time was right to swing the conversation round to something else. Something which he thought was much more important. “So pet, where’s the gang today? Not that I’m missing the unfortunate comedy styling’s of the whelp, but I thought they would have been round by now.”

Buffy pulled her eyes away from where they had been horribly transfixed by the sight of Anna’s hand resting on Giles knee. She blinked a couple of times before giving Spike her full attention. “Well Xander’s had to put up with a lot of weepy Buffy this week, so I didn’t have the heart to ring him and tell him that more research may be required. I think he’s out with Cordelia somewhere.”

“And Red?” Nothing in Spikes voice betrayed anything but bare interest.

“She’s ill, caught whatever Oz had. It must be pretty bad cos she didn’t answer the phone yesterday when I called. She left a message late last night though saying she wasn’t feeling any better.”

“Do you wanna go round and see her? Make sure she’s alright? I can chaperone the hormonal adults for you.”

Buffy turned panicked eyes back on Giles and Anna, but it looked like they were still discussing work based stuff, having the kind of conversation which they seemed to find fascinating, but which would have bored Buffy to tears. Assured that they were not hormone bombs about to detonate on her mom’s upholstery Buffy answered, “Nah, she said in her message that the doctor thinks she’s contagious and she shouldn’t have visitors, and cos Oz already had it he’s round there looking after her.”

Spike didn’t make any further comment, but his mind was racing. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He had suspicions, plenty of them, but of what he suspected he was far from certain. He liked Willow, he really did, and he very rarely liked anyone. He had always thought she was full of goodness and he found it hard to entertain the notion that she could be working against them in any way.
But some things just wouldn’t add up. Or, rather, they did add up, just not in a way Spike liked. He was sure everything; the missing werewolf hair, the spell that blocked Anna’s ability, Willows sudden illness, was linked. Willow knew who the werewolf was, and she was protecting them for some reason. That was the only conclusion Spike could come to that would make any sense. But the who and the why was trickier to pin down.

Spike was thoughtful for a minute. Something suddenly occurred to him and he felt full of a deep and awful dread. “I haven’t seen Oz for a long time pet. Not since before the whole hell incident.”

Buffy frowned, “No, actually neither have I. I hadn’t noticed before, cos Oz, not really one for the talking or the drawing of attention. But that is weird. I guess he’s been busy with stuff. He did kinda only start hanging out with us because of Willow, If she’s not around he’d probably feel out of place, being with us without her. He did become a Scooby by default, maybe he doesn’t actually want to spend his nights hunting down the latest big bad in potentially deadly confrontations. Some people are weird like that.”

Spike smile was strained. He wanted to talk to Red, soon.

The thought of sharing what he felt with Buffy, of potentially causing a rift among the scoobies when he had nothing to back his suspicions up but gut feeling was not appealing. If Willow was involved in this, and there was still a possibility that she wasn’t, then the fact that she had not come to Buffy, or Giles, for help did not bode well. Spike had made it clear that he knew of werewolves who were good, who could live in peace with their surroundings. But Willow had not come to him for advice either. The werewolf they were after had killed at least three times, and it would probably kill again if it wasn’t stopped, if the danger wasn’t contained. Would Willow really let that happen? Did her loyalties not lie with Buffy?

Buffy had already faced so many tests, so many moments where her calling was pitted against her feelings. Spike couldn’t let her go through that again, not until he was sure it was the only way. Spike cursed his healing body. He had to talk to Willow.



The morning gave way to afternoon. Anna said she planned to stay on a while, at least until the full moon was passed. She might not be able to track down the werewolf for them, but she was a good and experienced fighter, and she promised to help them in any way she could.

She mentioned something about finding a hotel, but Giles, with much stuttering and blushing (which Buffy would have found adorable on any one but Giles) offered her his spare room for the duration of her visit.

Anna accepted with embarrassed pleasure, and after deciding to call the roundabout strategy discussions to an end the two of them left together.

Joyce came back downstairs almost immediately after, and readily agreed to Spike staying as long as he needed too.

She cooked them some dinner, and they passed a pleasant evening in front of the tv. Or at least it would have been pleasant if Buffy, for her mother’s sake, wasn’t sat on the opposite side of the room to Spike. The urge to touch him, to feel his cool body beside hers, made Buffy feel antsy and restless. From the amount of times Spikes eyes were on her, and the heat she felt in them, Buffy guessed he was feeling the same.


It wasn’t until quite a lot later that they got to indulge in their desire for closeness.

As he couldn’t yet manage the stairs Spike was on the couch again, and Buffy was showing no signs of leaving him. Joyce made several pointed hints that everyone would benefit from a good night’s sleep. After realising that neither that, or overly expressive yawning, was encouraging Buffy to go upstairs to her own room Joyce settled for giving her two charges a warning ‘behave’ stare and went to bed herself.

Buffy immediately launched herself on Spike, tempering her enthusiasm slightly so she didn’t hurt him. He snuggled into her delightedly, purring when he inhaled her unholy scent.

Buffy giggled. “You purred! You totally purred! Like a little kitten!”

Spike growled, “No, like a manly tiger slayer. And I purr when I’m happy, can’t help it.”

Buffy fingered the scar above his eyebrow and he purred again, “See? It’s completely against my will.”

Her voice was suddenly breathless, “So you’re happy now?”

Spike grazed his lips against hers, dragging them back and forth excruciatingly slowly, “How can you even ask that?”

Then he was attacking her mouth with tender ferocity and Buffy found herself purring too.

Spike’s tongue found its way to Buffy’s neck. He ran it across her heated skin, nipping and biting and sucking until she had hold in the rising volume of her gasps.

Buffy knotted her hands in his hair, pulled him closer, tighter to her. She was drowning in him. She felt what he was feeling, the pleasure, the desire. The want and the need. She felt it all, returned it in full force. But despite the mushy state of her brain Buffy was also aware of Spikes injuries, the pain he must still be in but was ignoring for her pleasure. She wanted to help him again, wanted to help him heal. But more than that, she needed the feeling of having him inside her again, the thrill of the connection.

“Spike... Spike, bite me. Please... please don’t argue.”

He didn’t. In her voice he heard her desperation, her longing. It mirrored his own. He wouldn’t take much... he wouldn’t weaken her in any way... but just a little... just a taste... “Buffy...” He groaned and shifted, plunging his fangs deep, deep into her.
B
uffy had buried her face into Spikes shoulder and had to bite him in turn to muffle her scream. Pleasure, unrivalled, unchecked, swarmed through her as Spike drank, pulled her essence and her being into him.

As with the first time her orgasm was upon her so suddenly, so powerfully, blinding her with its force.

Spike withdrew his fangs, sealed the wound quickly before repossessing her mouth, swallowing her whimpers. She could taste her own blood in his mouth, and mingled with the distinct flavour of him it was a heady combination.

Together they rode out the waves of her pleasure, his pleasure. Their pleasure.




It was hours later but Buffy hadn’t even thought of going to bed. A bed without Spike in it seemed like an incredibly pointless invention, and she was enjoying talking and laughing and touching far too much to stop.
She had thought of making hot chocolate though. She was about done when she heard Spike singsong from the lounge.
“Slay-er, my glass is empt-y, and I’m thirst-y”

Buffy mock sighed and headed out of the kitchen with her hot chocolate and the heavily dented bottle of ‘get well’ scotch Giles had brought over.

Spike was lying on the couch, the blankets pulled up to his chin, an excited smile on his face and his glass swinging about from his outstretched hand.

Buffy glared. “I think I actually preferred you unconscious. And, I don’t think you should have any more of this stuff. I know you said its medicinal or whatever, but seriously, a whole bottle? That can’t be of the good.”

Spike pouted and tried to look as upset as possible, dropping his glass holding arm onto his chest morosely.

Buffy rolled her eyes, smiled despite herself and put on a very bad, very fake British accent. “Here you are sir, terribly sorry for the delay. A glass of her majesties finest for you.” She curtsied with flourish, before pouring him a small drink and carefully seating herself beside him.

Spike grinned again, “If I’d known all I had to do was get mortally wounded for you to like me again, not to mention getting you to pretend to be Australian, I would’ve pissed off a Horace demon the minute we got off the phone that night. There would have been a lot more slimy foam involved but it would have been a lot bloody quicker”

Buffy punched him on the arm, “Don’t even joke about it. And you so know I was being British. Don’t even pretend my accent wasn’t awesome.”

Spike gave an exaggerated wince and made a big show of rubbing his arm where Buffy had hit it. Buffy was up and fussing at once. Her blood had given him another good healing boost and she often forgot she still couldn’t be as... physical... with him as she wanted.

“God I’m so sorry! Did that hurt? Are you ok? Can I get you something?”

Then she caught the wicked gleam in Spikes eyes and her own narrowed. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

Spikes grin grew even broader. “I’m tucked up on a couch with as much Passions and Buffalo wings as a bloke could want, and a sexy slayer at my beck and call, what’s not to like?”

Buffy’s lips quirked a little but she tried to stay stern. “You almost died Spike, I certainly don’t like that, and it’s not funny.”

Spike grabbed Buffy’s hands and pulled her back onto the couch with him.

“Sorry pet. I won’t make any more jokes, scouts honour.”

Buffy smiled, “Good. And I guess there is something good to come out of you being injured.”

“What’s that then luv? The fact you can take advantage of me and I’m powerless to stop you?”

Buffy stayed serious, “No, the fact that you’ll be safe inside getting better during the full moon, and I won’t have to physically restrain you to make you stay put. There’s no way a werewolf’s coming near you ever again. Not while I’m around.”

Spike felt a stab of guilt flash through him. According to Anna he would still be as good as useless when the full moon came. If Buffy faced the werewolf, as it was becoming increasingly likely she would have to, it would be her, and her alone. He wouldn’t let her focus be split, worrying about him, if he went to fight beside her and his body let him down.
She was the most capable, adaptable and instinctive slayer he had ever known, but the thought of his vision haunted him. Buffy would not be harmed, Spike would make sure of that. Whatever else happened Buffy would be ok. But she needed the facts, and in the absence of facts even his hunches would be better than nothing.
Spike had tried, sneakily, to ring Willow while Buffy had been fetching him more food. There had been no answer. He’d left her a message on her answer phone, vague enough that if someone else heard it they wouldn’t know what he was talking about, and yet specific enough that Willow would; “Red it’s me. Spike. I’m back. Brought Anna with me like I said I would. It turns out she’s not gonna be able to help us like we hoped, but I think you might be. Buffy said you were under the weather, hope you’re feelin better now, cos I could really do with havin a chat with you. Reckon you probably know what about. It’s almost crunch time Red, almost bloody D-Day. Need answers, and I’m gonna have to talk to Buffy in the end, with or without them. Won’t let her get hurt. Not Buffy. And I know you wouldn’t want her to get hurt either.”


Willow hadn’t called back. Confronting her in person was looking like the only option, and out of the two of them Buffy was the one in a position to physically do that.

Spike was trying to figure out how best to start the conversation. It was difficult to focus on anything serious with Buffy being all gorgeous and near him and smelling so damn good, but he tried.


In the end though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t figured out how exactly to phrase his thoughts.




In another house, not far away, a red headed witch said the final words of a desperate spell. Her eyes were blackened and bloodshot, her skin deathly pale and strained. Her nose began to bleed from the effort of the casting. Twice in a week she’d had to cast a spell far outside her capabilities, and the toll it was taking on her body was almost too much. But she wouldn’t stop, not now. Not with the threat of an answering machine message ringing in her ears.
She would protect the one she loved. She would. No matter what the cost. Her love sat beside her, pain etched on his every feature. He wanted to stop her, he had tried, but she wouldn’t let him. They were doing this her way, and after all she had done for him he couldn’t argue with her. He could only hope that it would all work out, in the end.

Her voice was harsh, so unlike her own, as she chanted the final words into the suddenly cold air.

“Tabula rasa, Tabula rasa”

The crystal she clutched tightly in her hand slowly turned a deathly black.




Buffy smiled to herself as she watched Spike suddenly, almost dramatically, fall asleep. He must have been hiding his fatigue from her. Deciding against waking him from a slumber clearly as deep as it was sudden Buffy snuggled into his side. If her mom came downstairs before she’d woken and snuck up to her room she’d just have to deal with it. She couldn’t leave Spike.


As she drifted off to sleep, curled into the crook of his arm, she had no idea that Spike’s unconsciousness had nothing to do with being tired.

Spike woke late the next morning to find he was experiencing the first headache of his life. His head felt uncomfortably tight and was pounding relentlessly. This was strange enough, but it was coupled with the feeling that something else was off, that something was definitely not quite right.

He sat up and was pleased to find that he was able to do it with far more ease and far less pain than the day before. Buffy’s slayer grade blood had done its magic again, he felt almost as good as new.

He stood up and almost fell back down, his leg giving way with a sharp rent. Ah. Not quite good as new then. Spike sat back down and gingerly checked his stitches under the bandaging. The rest of him looked and felt pretty much back to normal, but this wound had yet to knit back together, it had obviously been the deepest he had sustained.

That wasn’t it though. That didn’t account for the weird feeling that there was something wrong... something he was forgetting maybe... something that was definitely important.

Spike threw out his senses and was immediately rewarded with the pleasurable brush of Buffy’s presence. He could hear the shower going upstairs, which explained her absence. Oddly the thought of wet, naked Buffy didn’t rampage through his head like he wanted it too. It was like his mind was full of soggy cotton wool. There was something in there trying to get his attention, but it was muffled. He got the impression of it, but not the sound.


Joyce suddenly came into the living room with a smile on her face and a cup of blood (held away from her body with as much distance as was possible) in her hand.

“Morning sleepy head! Buffy told me to give you this – “ She handed the blood to Spike with a wrinkled nose and obvious relief, “ – as soon as you woke up. She’s just getting changed, she should be down soon. I think she said something about another Scooby meeting.”

Joyce laughed when she saw the way Spikes expression dropped. “I know how you feel, when the house turns into command central I know it usually means crisis ahoy! I do sometimes wish Buffy was the kind of girl who had friends over to watch movies, not sharpen stakes.” Joyce suddenly got a tender look on her face “But then she wouldn’t be my Buffy would she? Now, you drink that up. She made me promise to be head nurse while she was upstairs, I don’t want her to think I’m slacking.”


Spike’s headache had eased seconds after his first sip of blood so he was able to come up with a quick reply, “Head nurse? Then why no uniform Joyce? I’m disappointed.”


Joyce blushed and her tone was light as she said, “You’re face doesn’t look too injured to me Spike, but I can change that if you keep up that sort of talk!”


Spike chuckled and drank the rest of his breakfast quietly. His head was feeling pretty normal again, but there was still that something... that niggling worry that there was something he’d forgotten...


But then Buffy came downstairs and the fact that he’d forgotten something was forgotten itself. Thinking about anything when all his blood had rushed south at the sight of his beautiful Buffy proved to be quite impossible, and by the time they’d shared their first kiss of the day everything but her had been entirely driven from his mind.



That day passed much the same as the previous one, with pointless discussion about their non-existent options regarding the werewolf, and Buffy’s horror of Giles and Anna related flirting.

The only difference was that Xander was there to share the horror, and to provide some entertainment for a merciless Spike.

Cordelia had also decided to tag along, though seemingly only so she could paint her nails and interject with non related comments.

The one time she actually said anything on topic it was markedly unhelpful.

“Seriously Buff, what’s the big? Just let the werewolf do its thing. It’ll move on when it’s run out of people to eat.”

As everyone else was too busy looking at Cordelia with open mouths it was Buffy who answered. “Right, and if one of the people it happened to eat was you? Would you care then?”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Well it wouldn’t get me, obviously. I’m not stupid enough to go waltzing round Sunnydale after dark. And honestly, the people who still are, after all the crap that goes on here, deserve to be eaten.”

Buffy bit down the urge to say something about Cordelia’s stupidity for Xander’s sake, and as if by silent communication they all ignored Cordelia after that. Buffy went back to her original point.

“Giles, I’m going to patrol. And I’m going to patrol alone. Even if the werewolf wasn’t a threat I’ve been neglecting my ‘duty’ lately, I know summers usually pretty quiet but if I don’t start patrolling soon there’s going to be vamps galore.”

Giles and Spike both opened their mouths to speak, but Buffy cut them off. She was using her most slayerish, speech giving, troop inspiring voice, and you just didn’t interrupt her when that happened.

“Look guys, we’ve studied this from every angle, but when it comes down to it there’s just one option. My way is the only way. Slayer good, werewolf bad right? Well I won’t let one more person get hurt because I was too scared to fight back. It was always going to come to a fight, whether we brought the fight to it, or it brought the fight to me. So it’ll have the upper hand, the element of surprise. So what? I’ll fight it, and I’ll win. I’ve fought worse, and I’ll fight worse in the future. This is my duty though, and mine alone. You guys can’t be in this with me. You’ve been great in the past, and I know you’ve helped me during similar situations. But this is different, we all know the process with vamps, we know and understand the methods, the risks and the limitations. I can’t risk bringing you out with me against a werewolf. If Spike’s legs better by then, great, I’ll take him with me and he can stop giving me the evil eye. But if it isn’t I am going out alone. I can’t do what has to be done if I’m worried if you’re ok. If I can find it, find it and track it without it noticing me I’ll call you guys in for back up. You can come out guns a blazing and we’ll take it down and it’ll be peachy keen. But I want you to do what I’m asking. I need you to stay inside, stay safe, until I call. Ok?”


Xander was the first to speak, Giles was too busy polishing his glasses and Spike was too busy grinding his teeth.

“Uh Buff, little problem with that, you don’t have a cell phone remember? Unless you were planning to shout for us? But I don’t think your voice would carry that far, and it would kinda undo the whole stealthy, stalking bit.”

Buffy tried to smile at his attempt at lightening the mood. “I’ll borrow Spikes, he won’t mind.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, “Won’t I? And you seem to be ignorin somethin else slayer, we’ve got Anna here haven’t we. You do remember Anna don’t you? The professional werewolf hunter? She’s already told you she’ll help in any way she can. If you’re gonna ignore that and insist on goin out alone, like a bloody martyr, you’re an idiot as well as a stubborn bint.”

Spike spoke more harshly than intended due to his anger. He wasn’t angry with Buffy, despite her ‘I’m the slayer, what I say goes, even If I say I want to march off to my death’ speech. He was angry with himself for not being healed, for being a hindrance rather than a help. There was only so much good drinking blood would do, his leg needed time to heal. Time they did not have. If he went out as he was he’d be a liability. If anything the smell of blood from his still open wound would attract the werewolf’s attention, making them the tracked rather than the trackers. He hated the whole damn situation, but he knew Buffy’s sense of duty would not allow her to sit at home while something was killing off the population.


Buffy took no offence from Spikes words, mainly because she knew they didn’t stem from anything but concern, but also because she had actually forgotten Anna.

Buffy turned to her now with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry Anna, I kinda completely forgot you’re the queen of kicking werewolf ass.”


Anna had been sitting silently for a while, unsure of what to do, of whether to interject or not. In light of all Spike had done for her she was ready and willing to do whatever was asked, and the thought of taking down a lone werewolf didn’t frighten her in the slightest. “I was going to ask if you’d like me to patrol also? We could fight together, or split up and have double the chance of finding it quickly." Spike growled. "Or not. The spell which blocks me from tracking it means I won’t be able to sense it from far away, but if it came relatively close I’m sure I would get the same reading as you, as though it were any other demon. I would have offered straight away Buffy, but you’re the slayer, this is your jurisdiction as it were, and it’s up to you.”


Buffy grinned sheepishly, “Yeah, well I can’t say having you with me wouldn’t make me feel majorly better about the whole thing, so if you’re game I think that team us would be awesome. Plus I won’t have to put up with Spike insisting I just get him ‘a bloody wheelchair’ and take him along.”


Spike was very pleased that Buffy would now have Anna fighting beside her, but he still frowned, “For the record slayer, even if I broke both my legs, you wouldn’t get me in a soddin wheelchair!”

Buffy smiled and smacked his arm playfully. Just then an errant thought occurred to her, “I’d better call Willow later, see how she is and fill her in. Poor Will, she must have something really nasty not to be keeping in contact.”


While the others talked about Willows illness, before moving on to a contest of ‘the worst illness I ever had was...’, Spike stayed quiet and thoughtful. The second Buffy had said Willows name the feeling he’d had from that morning had returned in full force.

His head definitely wasn’t working right, there was something he was forgetting, and it was something to do with Willow. What the hell was it?”




It seemed funny to Buffy that after all the fretting and plan making and worrying they’d done for the last two weeks they'd ended up with a very simple, normal result – patrolling with a side of improvisation.

As the best chance they had of killing the werewolf without the need to engage with it was through the use of guns filled with silver bullets, Anna and Giles took Buffy to the nearest deserted area to practise. For someone so good at wielding stakes she was a worryingly horrible shot, so they were gone most of the afternoon.

Xander went too, partly for the laugh factor, and partly because his ‘army experience’ during Halloween had given him a thing for guns, and Anna was bringing a few.

Cordelia tagged along too, stating to anyone that would listen that ‘if they started shooting any cute little animals’ she was so outta there. After a couple of hours of listening to her babble on about clothes Buffy was almost tempted to find a squirrel to aim at.



Buffy had been worried about leaving Spike alone in the house, but hadn’t wanted him to risk an even slower recovery by coming along. He shooed her off with the insistence that as good and as sexy a nurse as she had been he’d had enough women fretting over him in the last few days to last a lifetime.

In truth though, Spike would have loved to have spent the day with Buffy, even if it had meant putting up with Xander for longer, but he was convinced now that there was something wrong with him and he needed time to figure out what.



Hours had passed and Spike was sat on the couch with his head in his hands, the dreaded headache had returned. Now that he knew what they felt like Spike vowed to never again deliberately make loud noises when other people had them. He had also been overcome with a strange lethargy, which seemed to pass over him in waves and prevented him from wanting to do very much but sleep. He wasn’t sure if that was a result of the spell or not, since his injuries he had been sleeping a hell of a lot more than usual anyway. It was very annoying. Thinking, never one of Spikes favourite pastimes, seemed more difficult than ever.

He was certain now that he had been spelled. Without magical ingredients or even textbooks handy Spikes theories were the result of a few incantations and some guesswork. A spell of memory argumentation, or forgetting, had been used against him. But who had cast it and why was a mystery.

So too, obviously, was what he had forgotten. Spike remembered everything, his whole life in vivid detail up until the present day. Every memory that involved Buffy was particularly fresh and filled with colour. But a memory of something, something that obviously hadn’t affected him physically, had been removed.

Spike had taken great measures to protect himself from magic, to guard himself against exactly this kind of thing. The fact that someone had managed to bypass the barriers he had erected was worrying to say the least.
Spike knew though, in some instinctive way, that what he had been made to forget was not only important, but also connected somehow to Buffy’s red headed friend.
A vision perhaps? Spike had had visions about Buffy’s watcher after all, it wouldn’t be that strange if he’d had a vision about her friend. And Willow wasn’t just an ordinary girl, she had the ability to become a potentially extremely powerful witch.

The only people Spike could think of who would have reason and means to remove the memory of a vision from his mind were The Powers That Be. They had tried to do so before, and just because all the methods they’d employed in the past had failed didn’t mean they hadn’t found a new one that worked.

That thought made him very, very angry.

Spike considered calling Willow, to get her advice and maybe enlist her help in retrieving the memory, but according to Buffy she was very sick. He also didn’t want to worry her unduly, it was only a hunch after all which made him believe the memory involved her.

Spike could call the Powers, he’d found ways over the years of making contact, but they could chose to ignore him, and they very often did.

The full moon was the next night and Spike knew he should be focussing all his attention on making sure Buffy got through it without his vision of her becoming reality. He couldn’t tell her about this and risk her splitting her focus from the task at hand.

As frustrating as not being able to remember something was it wasn’t as important as dealing with the werewolf. Spike decided that when the next couple of nights were over he would put this puzzle to the scoobies, and they could sort it out together.
Once he had reached his decision Spike succumbed to the unnatural sleep which to him seemed perfectly natural.

Buffy practically ran to Spikes apartment. He was doing so much better but she still hated leaving him. It was especially hard since they’d spent so little time together the last few days, what with all the werewolf drama and Scooby meetings. But he needed clothes. It weirded her a bit to see him in her dad’s old things, and she knew it must be hard on her mom, even though so much time had passed. This trip to pick up fresh things was necessary, but she planned on making it as quick as possible.

Despite how long their relationship had been building, how, since the first moment they’d met they’d been so drawn together, they’d come together quite suddenly in the end. Their relationship was so new, still in its first steps. They’d fallen down on their journey recently and they hadn’t had time yet to celebrate getting back up. Buffy knew, head heart and soul, blood and bones, that Spike was what she wanted. If she was being honest with herself he was what she’d always wanted. She suspected, somehow, that deep inside she’d known Spike was coming all her life, that they would meet one day. With Angel, though for all appearances she’d thrown herself into the relationship, she had never given herself to him fully.
There had always been a part of herself she’d held back. She’d been too deeply in angst with him at the time to let it trouble her, but now she knew why. Angel hadn’t been the one for her. Spike had always been the one.
Buffy was so preoccupied with warm fuzzies she didn’t immediately realise anything was amiss as she let herself in to Spike’s apartment.

She almost growled in frustration as she noticed the man/thing politely sat on Spike’s couch, sipping tea from a chintzy, flowery tea set she was fairly certain Spike didn’t own.

“What do you want?”

Tarot, other than raising an eyebrow, didn’t seem at all perturbed by her obvious displeasure at seeing him. He smiled, in a way he probably considered warm, but in a way she found decidedly creepy.

“Well I’m here to see you of course Miss Summers, and I must say it is a delight to see you again. I would have stopped by your home, but I felt it best not to disturb the courageous invalid in his early stages of recuperation.”

Buffy crossed her arms and tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “How’d you know I was coming here?”

Tarot smiled again and took a noisy sip of tea. “How does anyone know anything Miss Summers?”

Realising that avoiding an irritatingly cryptic conversation with Tarot wasn’t really an option Buffy flopped into Spikes favourite chair. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just checking in with my favourite demon fighting gal Miss Summers. I’ve been meaning to come ever since your altercation with Angelus, but with one thing and another... Now that was a night of surprises wasn’t it?”
Tarot didn’t seem to expect an answer so Buffy stayed quiet.

“No that night didn’t turn out how we expected at all.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “What, did the powers expect me to bite the big time? Sorry to disappoint.”

Tarot chuckled. The sound was similar to a wheezy cat crying. It was most unsettling. “No no dear, we never expected you to die. At least, we hoped you wouldn’t, but you can’t guarantee these things can you?” Tarot shook his head and smiled. “No, what surprised us that night was young Williams ah, intervention, shall we say. It was supposed to be Angel sent to hell that night, not William. And it was supposed to be done by your hand. If things had happened as they were supposed to then things would have taken a different course, the course the Powers had intended it to take. But – well with William around we knew to expect the unexpected! But that was unexpected indeed. For him to save Angel, after the history those two have shared! My, that was a shocker! He’s done some courageous things (some might call them stupid, not I of course) over the years, but choosing to face an uncertain hell dimension rather than letting your enemy get his just deserts... I wonder what made him do that?”

“Me.”

Tarot leaned forward in his chair, and directed his ear towards Buffy, as though he hadn’t heard her. “I beg your pardon Miss Summers?”

Buffy cleared her suddenly dry throat. “I said he did it for me, so I wouldn’t have to kill Angel. He didn’t want me have to deal with that sort of pain.”

Tarot leaned back again, and clasped his hands over his sizable stomach. “Hmm yes. That sounds like the William we know. Sacrificing for love. He always was a hopeless romantic! Not surprising really, when you consider his upbringing. Always yearning for the love he’s been denied... I have to say though, you and he, coming together in the way you have, that shook the Powers greatly. Can’t say when they’ve been more surprised!”

Buffy’s eyebrow rose. “Yeah, I’m sure. Of course they wouldn’t have set up our relationship, it’s not like they’ve done that before or anything... you know, say with Angel? Prophesy, ring any bells?”

This time Tarot looked genuinely surprised. “Miss Summers I can assure you the Powers have nothing to do with the relationship you and William have. It was the furthest thing from their intentions. Angel was meant to be your champion. William had been out of the slayer saving game for so long it wasn’t even suspected you’d meet.”
Buffy shook her head, “Well that’s not right. Spike was fed visions about me, he saw the master kill me, saw me come back. He’d managed to block out all other slayer visions, so it must have been the Powers that made him see me.”

Tarot’s eyes widened. “It certainly wasn’t the Powers Miss Summers, I would know. I can’t tell you why William had visions about you, but it wasn’t because we intended it that way, dear me no! That’s why we had to put an embargo on what he was able to communicate with you. We had a very cultivated plan in the works, we couldn’t risk his sudden appearance messing things up. We were grateful of course that he saved you from Miss Drusilla that night at the school, but when he began to interfere further... well we were quite annoyed! If I was one for making guesses I’d say that the two of you share a connection, one the Powers couldn’t predict or manipulate. It meant things with Angel didn’t go to plan, and that meant the rest went plum over peach! It was supposed to be you and Angel, big everlasting love and all that drama, but apparently your heart had other plans.” When Buffy opened her mouth to speak Tarot cut her off. “Oh Miss Summers I don’t mean to criticise your choice! Not by any means. William always was my favourite.”

Though it eased Buffy’s mind to know she and Spike weren’t drawn together because some interfering higher power had made it so, she was finding this whole conversation confusing and the fact it was keeping her from Spike made it annoying in the extreme. “Yeah, well you know what they say, blondes have more fun.”

To Buffy surprise Tarot laughed at this, big belly laughs which sounded like a really fat wheezing cat crying. “Yes, Angel wasn’t really about the laughter was he? No, I think you and William are much better suited. My! What a team you’ll make! I can’t wait to see what kind of mischief the two of you get up to.”

“That’s great, glad to know we bring entertainment into your life. No disrespect or anything, but I want to make with the gone and I don’t think Spike would appreciate you being here.”

Tarot waved a hand airily, “Your probably right, he certainly wasn’t pleased the last time he found me in his home, gosh that was an entertaining afternoon! Well, I won’t keep you, just thought I’d check in, let you know that the Powers are pleased with your work, despite how off kilter it made their plans. I was also hoping you’d do me the honour of participating in another reading?”

Buffy shrugged, “What the hell, didn’t seem to mean much the last time, but hey who am I to judge?”

Tarot looked her square in the eye as he handed her a pack of cards which had appeared as though from nowhere. “You pulled the Justice card last time I believe. Justice is all about restoring balance, and making decisions through natural force as much as rational thought. It is clear to me now that when William entered your world he gave it balance, acting as a partner, an equal (even though you didn’t seem to realise it at the time) You chose to enter hell, to return William to this plane, restore balance to your world, and you did it against the laws of rational reasoning, it was purely a reaction of natural, emotional force. I’d say your last reading had meaning, wouldn’t you?”

Buffy wasn’t sure how to respond, so she didn’t, just averted her eyes from Tarot’s penetrating gaze and shuffled the cards.

Despite how eager she was to get away from Tarot and back to Spike Buffy found she couldnt rush the reading, she felt compelled to take her time shuffling and laying the cards until she felt they looked just right. Again she felt a peculiar pull as her hand hovered over a particular card. She lifted it with trepidation, but this time turned it, stared at it, before handing it to Tarot.

When Tarot saw it he smiled, though it meant little to Buffy.

Number nine, Strength.

“Well well, very nice. Yes yes, theres fun to be had! Now I don’t wish to hold up you up any longer dear girl. I expect I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“Can’t wait.” Tarot clearly failed to pick up on the sarcasm.

“Neither can I! Neither can I! Give Spike my regards, I imagine he has seen our meeting. It’s hard to keep anything from that boy, no matter how hard one tries!”

Tarot disappeared moments after, and Buffy quickly collected Spikes clothes.

Tarot was right, Spike had seen their meeting. Though he was interested in their conversation, and delighted that him falling for Buffy had nothing to do with being a puppet for the powers, they didn’t dwell on it long. They had more important things to deal with at the moment.




All in all that day passed quickly. Buffy and Anna prepared for the evening and Spike ignored his headaches.
When evening began to fall Giles and Xander went to Giles’ apartment, which they we’re going to use as a HQ.

Before Buffy and Anna left Buffy said a lingering goodbye to Spike.

All the time he’d spent sleeping in the last couple of days hadn’t been completely wasted, his leg had healed dramatically. Spike had tried to insist it was healed enough that he could come. But Buffy watched him closely, she saw how he still wobbled when he tried to walk, and she saw the strain standing took. With a firm reminder that she was the slayer, and as such should be listened to by vamps who wished to remain undusty, Buffy made Spike stay behind.

Spike was angry, and disappointed in himself for not hiding the pain better, but he agreed, knowing that Anna would be less likely to fall down in a pathetic heap, and that she help and protect Buffy with almost the same ferocity as he would.

The kiss they shared before they went was so steamy Anna had to back out of the room with wide eyes.

Spikes voice was husky, his irises dominated by the black of desire. “Come back to me pet, or else.”

Buffy found it difficult to make her tingling tongue wrap itself around words. She stroked his face and tried to stop herself from forgetting all about her mission, barricading them in the house and instigating a clothes ban.“You think I’m not gonna come back to find out where that kiss could lead? That would be a massive world of no. I’ll be back later, and I expect you to be up waiting.”

Spike couldn’t resist smirking, pulling her on to his lap and grinding his lower half into her. “Oh, I’ll definitely still be up luv.”



Buffy left the house with a tingling core and a steely determination to find the thing, kill it, and get back to her evil tease of a boyfriend as soon as was slayerly possible.





The night was turning into a big bust. Buffy and Anna had been patrolling for almost three hours and other than two measly fledgling vamps everything had been quiet.

Buffy had the sudden thought that maybe the werewolf had heard that there was a slayer in Sunnydale and had chosen to move on to some other slayer-less town. She felt stupid for not thinking that it might have happened earlier.
Spike had had a vision, but he had said before that his visions didn’t always come to pass, they only showed things that might be. Though she felt guilty for thinking of some other town in distress Buffy couldn’t help the accompanying pang of relief. She pulled the gun she was carrying from her pocket and looked at it with distaste. Her shot had greatly improved but she still longed for her stake, for the strange reassuring comfort of a physical fight. She shoved the cold metal away again with a shudder.


Buffy whipped out the phone she’d liberated from Spike and dialled Giles number.

“Hey Giles, no no, don’t get your panties in a twist, just another update on the nothing that’s happening. I think our mr hairy skipped town. What? Well if he keeps waving it around take the gun off him. Huh? No, I don’t know what a rollywhatsit artefact is, but I’m sure Xander didn’t mean to break it. He did what to your jaffa cakes? Right... Look, Giles me and Anna are gonna do one more sweep then we’re coming back, try not to kill each other until then ok? See you later.”

Anna had given up listening to the bemusing one sided conversation and was looking around her with an alertness Buffy had lost an hour ago.

Buffy watched the way Anna’s eyes flicked restlessly around. “Something up?” Buffy couldn’t feel even the beginnings of a tingly, and was relieved when Anna shook her head. “Good, thought my radar was going wonky.” Buffy sighed, “I reckon we should split up and do one last sweep, meeting back here. What do you think?”

Anna frowned, “Well, Spike and Rupert did say we shouldn’t split up dear, maybe it would be better if we stuck together.”

Buffy waved a hand around airily, “If something was going to happen it would have happened by now. Giles said werewolves transform as soon as the full moon comes up, and it’s been up for hours. I think our werewolf’s gone splitsville, but we should do one last quick sweep to be sure.”

Anna still hesitated, but Buffy was determined. “Well... it is unusual for a werewolf to wait this long to begin hunting, especially given the later summer nights. And I suppose it would be quicker if we split up.”

Buffy nodded, “I’m so ready to drop right now. If I do see the werewolf, and it doesn’t see me, I’ll give you a call, and you can do the same. Alright?”

After Anna inclined her head Buffy turned on her heel and marched off. She’d barely spent any time with Spike the last few days, and she was dying to get back to him. His leg was so very nearly better too, which meant soon they’d be able to go to his place... and have privacy...

Buffy was so lost in pleasant imaginings that she passed streets and shops without noticing. She inadvertently made her way towards the more derelict parts of town, the types of places which had been first on her and Anna’s patrolling list.

Everything seemed much as it was three hours earlier.
There wasn’t another soul to be seen. The air was still, no breeze disturbed the trash littered streets and the full moon shone down from a cloudless sky, bathing everything in an eerie white.
Buffy found it to be both peaceful and disquieting.




A sudden, horribly familiar scream ripped apart the night and Buffy’s heart in an instant.

A cloying, cold and paralysing fear snaked its way through her limbs. Her head was ordering her to run in the direction of the sound, her body was refusing to obey.
It took another scream, less forceful but no less terrified, for the adrenaline to start pumping through Buffy’s system. She put one foot in front of the other.
Again. Faster. Faster. She tried to push every thought from her mind as she ran, as she ran faster than should have been possible even for a slayer.

A painful throbbing pressure in her head hit her incessantly, and blended with words to form a chant which set the pace of her feet. Not happening. Not happening. Not happening.

The screams continued, but they were getting quieter and quieter. For once Buffy was dreading the moment the screaming stopped. Screaming was good. Screaming was noise. Screaming meant not dead.

The screaming stopped.

Buffy rounded a corner, not noticing a black crystal that got crushed beneath her feet.

Up ahead was an abandoned warehouse, and in front of it was a playground, with its rusted swing sets and forgotten slides. Buffy was only seconds away, but those seconds stretched beyond meaning. With her enhanced slayer sight she could see that there was a dark shadow, covering where she knew the roundabout should be. With her enhanced hearing she could hear a whimper. It was a whimper of defeat and the sound of it almost brought Buffy to her knees. She forced herself to carry her body forward the final few feet. She was close. So close.

The shadow moved with frightening speed, but it was moving away, away from Buffy and the playground. Buffy let it go. It was not her concern.


Her concern was brought abruptly, horribly, into sight.

When she had seen the wounds werewolves had inflicted on Spike she had nearly been sick. Now she was seeing similar wounds on a different person and she actually was. The acid burned her throat as the tears stung her eyes. She whipped her mouth with the back of a violently shaking hand and staggered forwards on legs she had lost control of. How they were holding her up when she felt like collapsing Buffy had no idea. She dropped the gun she had drawn while running to the ground without thought.

The light of the hateful full moon was suddenly too bright. She could see it all, see the oozing blood running across the tarmac, ebbing and flowing in a crimson tide. Blood. So much blood.
Everything was red.

Buffy didn’t recognise her own voice; it was a voice she hadn’t used since she was a very small child, a child who hadn’t known how to cope with fear or pain. She thought she’d learnt about doing that over the years, and in the last few months especially she thought she’d learned how to deal with the most awful of situations. She was so, so wrong.

Suddenly she was a child again, and so very afraid.
“Willow?”

Willow did not stir. Her eyes were closed, and her chest, so horribly torn, was not moving. Buffy fell then. She fell on her hands and knees and crawled towards her friend. “Willow? No, no no no no. Not you. Not you Willow.” It couldn’t be Willow. It couldn’t be. She shouldn’t be here, why was she here? She was supposed to be ill, safe at home in bed. Ill, but ok inside her house. Inside her house and not here. Safe. She was meant to be safe. Why was she here? Why?

Not Willow.

It couldn’t be Willow.

“Willow?”

Buffy ran her shaking hands around Willows broken body, she was afraid to touch her, she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t bite back the choking sobs which wracked her body. Somewhere in the back of her head a voice was trying to be heard, telling her things she knew. Her pulse. Check her pulse.

Buffy gently took her hand. It felt so small. So fragile. She turned it and pressed her fingers against the wrist. Her pulse. Still there. But weak. So weak. Too weak.
Acting on autopilot Buffy frantically fumbled through the pockets of her jacket until she found the cell phone. She punched in 911 while her voice made desperate demands to her dying friend. “Wills, stay with me ok? You have to stay with me. You’re – you’re going to be ok. D’you hear me Willow?” Willow didn’t stir.


There was suddenly a voice on the other end of the phone.
Buffy tried to make her own voice steady, so the operator understood where they were.


She never heard the soft tread of claws behind her. As she hung up the phone she didn’t feel the tingles which should have told her what was coming from behind. She didn’t see the werewolf, the werewolf with her best friend’s blood congealing in the coarse hairs around its mouth. She didn’t see the werewolf who was preparing to pounce again.

Buffy suddenly felt the air behind her move, and the next few seconds passed in horrific slow motion.

She turned and it felt like she was moving through wet sand. She was too sluggish, too slow. And now she was looking into the mouth of the beast. Buffy didn’t roll out of the way, or adopt a defensive position. Her mind had gone blank and her usual instinctive reactions had vanished. She did nothing.

She was vaguely aware of her name being shouted, in a voice which, for reasons she couldn’t at that moment remember, made her heart flip over.

The beast, so close to being upon her, to pinning her down and ripping her to shreds, turned towards the source of the shout mid jump.

The sound of a single shot cracked through the air, and time stopped moving in slow motion.

The werewolf landed on Buffy, but the force behind it was pure momentum. It collapsed on her, its head lolling horribly to one side. Its eyes were wide, glassy and staring, and a bullet wound blossomed blood between them.

Then they eyes began to change. The feral darkness began to soften just as the muzzle below them started to shrink back.

Buffy shoved the creature off her, and crawled backwards desperately.


Spike was at her side that instant. Buffy didn’t question how he had found her, how he had got to her in just the very last moment.
He was her saviour after all. He would always save her. She was stupid for ever doubting that.
Spike was trying to pull her away now though, away from the dead wolf, the wolf who was the reason why her best friend lay dying.
She wouldn’t let him.

As the sound of sirens filled the air Spike tried to pull Buffy away, tried to stop her from watching as the features of the wolf receded, melted and restructured until the human form was revealed.

When the transformation was complete Buffy saw why Spike had tried to protect her, and for the second time that night she was violently sick.



With a manic disbelief Buffy looked back and forth between the body of a friend who lay dying, and the body of the friend who was unmistakably dead.

Oz.

The next twenty four hours passed in a hideous hurricane. Buffy found herself bound by it, the wind knocked from her body, unable to pull free or make sense of her suddenly spinning world.

When the ambulance came Spike took control, Buffy was completely unable to.

He explained to the paramedics that the four of them had been on a night out, and had split up to go home. They hadn’t gone far away from each other when they’d heard screams and followed them, finding their friends like this.
Given that this was Sunnydale, and things like this happened with frightening regularity the paramedics took pity on the nearly catatonic girl and her deeply shocked boyfriend and didn’t ask many questions.

Oz had been immediately pronounced dead, and the police were called. Willow was alive, but barely. She was quickly strapped up and hooked to every machine the ambulance had available. Spike led a violently shaking Buffy into the ambulance, and tried to sooth her trembling body.

When they arrived at the hospital Willow was whisked off for immediate surgery, leaving Buffy hunched and disbelieving in the waiting room. Spike, knowing that they should be told immediately, rang Giles and Anna to break the horrific news.

Giles and Xander were at the hospital as soon as was humanly possible, and through his own haze of bewilderment Giles tried to get hold of Willows parents. They were out of town, visiting relatives, but once they heard what had happened to their daughter they immediately began the journey home.

Xander was beside himself, unable to believe that Willow, his Willow, could possibly be hurt. Since kindergarden she had been the only constant in his life, the only person he’d always been able to count on. The thought that she might not survive the surgery was an unthinkable one.

Anna, who had never met Willow, was the only one able to keep a level head. She fussed over them all, in an unobtrusive way, fetching endless teas and coffees to sit around un-drunk and rubbing soothing circles on the arm Giles was using to cling tightly to her.

The thing they needed at that moment was answers. They were the only thing they could grasp at while Willow was fighting for her life, surrounded by strangers in some sterile operating theatre. They needed answers.

Buffy hadn’t spoken since arriving at the hospital. She hadn’t physically been able to. The image of Willow, the image of Oz, swam around her head, making her ever more nauseated.

Spike had never left her side, not once. The part of her brain that was still working was glad of it, without him there the last threads connecting to her to reality would have broken and she would have fallen apart completely. But now Buffy spoke. It was a single word, spoken in a hoarse, broken voice, but it expressed the feelings of almost every person present. “Why?”


Xander wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and shook his head. “I don’t know why Buff, none of this makes any sense, none of it.”


Giles ran a shaking hand across his brow. “I can’t get my head around it. What happened tonight? Oz was the werewolf...all along...Surely Willow couldn’t have known? But then why was she out tonight? And now he’s dead and Willows... God. Why did any of this happen?”


Spike’s hand’s twitched at the mention of Oz’s name. The image of his face, the exact moment the life left his eyes, would stay with Spike forever.
Last night his memory had suddenly, dramatically returned. And with it came a vision, the same vision of Buffy he had had before. Spike had run to her immediately, his leg hadn’t bothered him, he hadn’t noticed the pain at all. Buffy was all that mattered.
He followed his sense of Buffy to where she was, and his combined slayer and vampire speed almost hadn’t been enough. If she had been any further away it wouldn't have been.
He saw the werewolf about to pounce, he saw Buffy’s forgotten gun on the floor. He hadn’t thought beyond keeping her safe, he’d just reacted. And now Oz was dead. And Spike had killed him.

He pushed the thought away, knowing he would have to deal with it some other time. The present was what mattered now.

His memory had been completely restored. Spike wasn’t sure how or why but the spell he now realised Willow must have cast had been broken. As much as he knew that what he had to share would hurt the people he had come to so greatly care about, he knew that they needed to know. They needed to understand.

So Spike told them.

He told them about the suspicions he had begun to have of Willow, of Oz. He told them of the spell which had made him forget just as he had been about to tell Buffy about it.

When he was done every face was just a bit more ashen.

Apart from Xander’s. His had turned red with rage.
“You’re wrong! Willow wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t keep secrets from us! She wouldn’t work against us! Willow’s never told a lie in her whole life. You’ve only known her five minutes, don’t you dare say you know her better than we do!”

Spike shook his head, for the first time he felt a wave of sympathy for Xander. Being betrayed by one you loved, one you trusted, was never easy to take in. “I’m not sayin that mate, I’m not sayin I know her better, or even that I know her motivations. But people can surprise you. I’m good at readin people, always have been, and I’m not lyin about what I saw in Red. Wish I was.”

Buffy turned heavy eyes on Spike. She was beginning to emerge from her trance like state, and it was so painful, so awful, she could hardly stand it. “But why Spike? If Willow knew Oz was the werewolf why wouldn’t she have come to us for help? She’s – she’s – our friend.”

Spike cupped Buffy’s face and ran a finger along her jaw, catching a stray tear. “Yeah pet, you’re her friend, but you’re also the slayer. Willow knows both sides of you, the girl side and the slayer side. She knows what you think, how you feel. How would you have reacted if she’d said ‘hey Buffy, while you were vacationing in hell my boyfriend murdered three people!’ It’s not as though you could have said, ‘neat! Let’s all go to the Bronze together!’ Willow knew you would be loyal to her, but there’s a point, a limit. Oz crossed it.”

Buffy shook her head. “That’s not fair! I would have listened to her, I would have talked to her. We would have found a way to fix this.”

Spike tilted his head to one side, his eyes sad. “How would you have fixed it Buffy? Oz was a killer, a demon. Nothing you could do would change that. Even if you’d found a way to help him, to stop him killing again, would you be able to get past that? Would you be able to look at him the same way?”


Buffy shook her head again, not in a denial but to try and clear it. “I would have tried, for Willow I would have tried.”


“You were willing to kill Angel luv. You were willing to kill him to protect people, to save the world. Do you think Willow could take the chance of telling you? Of risking her own love? I understand what Willow did pet. I get it. If it had been you I would have done the same. She was tryin to protect Oz, to keep him safe until she could find a way to make him safe. She didn’t mean to betray you, or put anyone else in danger. She just couldn’t see beyond her love.”

There wasn’t much anyone could say after that.





The wait for Willow to come out of surgery was agonising, but it ended, as all things eventually do.

The surgeon came to talk to the full waiting room of people. The guy had been a surgeon a long time, and he had lived in Sunnydale for most of that time, and yet even he was shocked by the severity of Willows injuries. He had worked hard, desperately hard, and he had almost lost her twice. But now she was stable, critical but stable. He had done all he could do, time would have to do the rest.

Xander jumped up and down at the news, and pulled Giles in for a hug. Though Buffy felt her heart lift a little she couldn’t celebrate. Not yet.




Much later Buffy turned to Spike, and voiced the fear, the awful fear, which had stayed with her since finding Willows prone figure. She hadn’t mentioned it before, she hadn’t been able to. If Willow hadn’t pulled through then it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. If Willow hadn’t pulled through nothing would have mattered again.

“She was bitten Spike. Wasn’t she? Willow was bitten.”

Spike sighed heavily. “Yes pet, yes she was.”

Buffy found it hard to get her next question out, but she had to know. “What does that mean? For her?”

Spike pulled Buffy onto his lap, and she curled into him. He pressed his lips against her neck, running them across the smooth skin. It wasn’t meant to be a passionate touch, despite how it made Buffy shiver, it was meant to reassure. And Buffy did feel her heart slowing down a little, even as she felt the dread of his answer.

“It means that she’ll be a werewolf pet. I’m so sorry.”


Although she had been prepared for the answer it still sent a flush of shock and pain through her nerve endings.
“When will she change?”

Spike sighed, “It will take time for her cell structure to alter, like it does when a humans made a vamp. She won’t change durin this full moon, but she will by the next one.”

Buffy’s voice was low, strained. “I can’t kill her Spike, no matter what she ends up doing. I can’t.”

Spike ran his hand up and down her side. “You won’t have to pet, I’ll make sure you don’t have to.”

Misunderstanding his meaning, Buffy pulled a little away from him. “You can’t kill her either Spike, I couldn’t let you do that. I understand why you – you killed Oz. You had to, he would have killed me otherwise. But there has to be another way now. It’s - it's Willow.”

Spike tugged gently at a strand of Buffy’s hair. Knowing that she’d understood what he’d had to do made the guilt he felt over doing it a little easier to bare. “I wasn’t talkin about killin her pet, I don’t reckon I could do that either. But there are other ways, things we could do to help her.”

Buffy felt a spark of hope, a spark she had thought was dead and buried, flare in her chest. “What? What could we do?”

“Well, you know I told you about werewolves who don’t kill? Who manage to keep the demon within them in check, and live pretty much normal lives?”

Buffy nodded.

“We can help Willow become one of them. It works in her favour that she’s a witch, she’ll find it that much easier to reign in her urges.”

Buffy looked at him wide eyed, “Do you mean she might not ever hurt anyone? Ever? This might not change her at all?”

Spike shook his head, “It will change her pet, obviously. She can’t just not be a werewolf anymore. Well, I guess she’s actually a werewitch aint she? But she can control it, control herself. And yeah, that means she could live her whole life without hurtin anyone.”

The first ghost of a smile appeared on Buffy’s face. “How can we help her?”

Spike looked over to where Giles was sitting. The watchers head was resting on Anna’s shoulder, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was hanging open as he’d succumbed to a fitful sleep.

“Well, I’ll have to talk to Rupes about it, but there’s this coven in England I’m friendly with, they specialise in stuff like this, in groundin essences and controllin the dangerous sides of being. I know they’d take her on. They’d look after her, put her on the right path and that. And they’d teach her about her powers, help her to hone them. Her spells seem to go a bit... what you’d call ‘wonky’ pet. They’d teach her moderation, control.” Spikes voice acquired a layer of guilt ridden sadness, “And they’d be a good help while she’s grievin. They’ll be able to reach her in ways we can’t, help take the edge off the pain.”

Buffy squeezed his hand, trying to give him back some of the reassurance he’d given her. “You really think they’d be able to do all that?”

Spike nodded, “I’m sure. She’d have to stay there a while though, it will take her time to adjust. It’s not somethin that would happen overnight pet. They’d need to see her through at least her first couple of full moons. That’s why I’d need to talk to the watcher, he’d have to sort somethin out with the school, with her parents.”


Willow’s mom and dad had shown up an hour earlier, beyond distressed and desperate to see their little girl. If they were surprised to see the odd collection of people in the waiting room they didn’t show it. They had been taken in to Willows room the minute they’d arrived, and they hadn’t been out of there since.

Buffy had called Joyce as soon as she’d been coherent enough to think about it, and Joyce had been an invaluable comfort to Xander. As tired as he was Xander couldn’t sleep, couldn’t relax, until he knew for sure Willow would be ok. Joyce had sat with him, listening to him tell stories about Willow and trying to make him smile through his teary eyes.


After her conversation with Spike Buffy had felt immeasurably better, though she too, like Xander, wouldn’t be able to rid herself of panic until Willow had woken.

Buffy both longed for, and dreaded, the moment when Willow would wake. She had to talk to her, she had to hear Willows side of things, but she also had to tell her best friend that the man she loved was dead.

As the hours continued to pass the doctors gave them regular updates. Willow had responded well to the surgery and the medication being relentlessly pumped into her system. So far all signs pointed towards her making an eventual full recovery, but they were keeping her in an induced coma, to give her body a chance to adjust to the shock it had sustained.

In the end it was three full days before she woke.



During that time Buffy practically lived at Spikes apartment. Knowing what her daughter must be going through Joyce allowed it, but stayed in regular contact.

Buffy would spend whole hours just lying in Spikes arms, using the strength he gave her to think about her friends, about how much things had changed, about the past, about the future.

To Buffy’s surprise Xander also spent a great deal of his time in Spikes apartment. Cordelia, not particularly close to either Willow or Oz, had tried to comfort him but hadn’t been able to really understand what he was going through. Buffy understood though, and to a certain extent, so did Spike. So the three of them banded together, in a quiet cocoon of mourning and thought.

Spike surprised her with the way he treated Xander. He still wound him up, but he did it in such a way that it was obvious he was just trying to make Xander feel more normal. Spike appreciated the way Xander stuck by his friends, no matter what. And the fact that he had grudgingly accepted the relationship between Spike and Buffy meant more to Spike then he would let on. Though the two men were not yet friends they were coming closer to it.

They were all in deep shock, and a little denial, over Oz’s death. He had been such a quiet, and yet such a steady presence in their lives. None of them had really known him that long, or that well, but he had still been a Scooby. One of them.

And now he wasn’t.



Giles would pop by a couple of times a day, sometimes with Anna and sometimes alone. They would go to the hospital and sit in Willows room, stroking her hand, talking to her. Letting her know in any way they could that they were there for her.

The first time they had seen her, so pale, and so covered in tubes and bandages, it had been the kind of shock which didn’t get easier.

Her recovery would take a long, long time.



There had been a story in the paper about Oz’s death. It had been stated that a young couple, on their way home from a night out, had been attacked by a gang (no doubt a drugged up one). The boy had died as a result of the attack, and the girl had sustained life threatening injuries. The gang in question hadn’t been apprehended.

Buffy had actually rolled her eyes when she’d read the article, still a bit disbelieving that the police were trying to blame everything bad that happened in Sunnydale on these mythical gangs, even when the evidence screamed a different story.


Buffy and Spike also took this time to fill the others in on Willows altered being.


Xander had reacted badly, not willing at first to believe that his best friend was now a kind of demon. He had stormed off, and Buffy had found him later, crying by Willows bedside. The bandaging on Willow’s shoulder had been pulled aside, exposing the bite mark which marred her, and confirming the truth of Buffy’s claim.

Giles had reacted a little better. There were still many ‘dear lords’, and even a few ‘bloody hells’ but meeting and getting to know Anna had altered Giles perspective on a few things. Willow’s change in circumstances, whist an awful turn of events, wasn’t seen by him to be the end of the world, as it would have seemed before.

It took a great deal of talking for the two men to be completely reconciled, but in the end they realised that the fact that Willow was alive, alive and almost whole, was really all that mattered.

They would deal with what happened next, like they dealt with everything.



When the news came that Willow was finally awake Buffy was felt a mixture of emotions. She was so glad that Willow had finally come around, but she was scared too. Scared of the conversation they would have to have.


Spike offered to come to the hospital with her. Despite the strain his leg had underwent the night he had run to Buffy it was now, finally, completely healed. But Buffy, though touched, wouldn’t let him. This was something she and Xander needed to do alone. Willow was their best friend, from the beginning they had been in it together. They had to let Willow know that this hadn’t changed.



The minute Buffy got to the ward Willow was on she knew something was wrong. Nurses were rushing about, panicked and flustered, and a doctor was leaving Willows room. He was incredibly pale, and had a nasty looking burn on his arm.

Buffy ran straight over to him, a frantic Xander by her side. “What’s happened?”


The doctor was clearly dazed, and shook his head vigorously, as though to try and clarify what had happened in his own mind.

“Are you – you’re friends of Miss Rosenberg?”

Buffy nodded, “Yes, we were told she’d come round, what’s happened?”

The doctor continued shaking his head, “I’m not quite sure. When she woke up she was asking for someone, Oz? Who I believe is the young man who was unfortunately killed the night she was attacked?”


Buffy nodded again, growing impatient.


“Well one of the nurses told her that he had... passed away... as gently as she could of course, and she, Miss Rosenberg, seemed to go into a sort of – a kind of – fit, I suppose is the best word. She knocked many of the nurses down... some how... and tried to leave the ward. We had to sedate her.”


Buffy looked towards the closed door of Willow’s room, and then at the doctors clearly sore and blistering arm. “How did that happen?”


The doctor followed Buffy’s gaze and flinched as he turned his arm. “I honestly don’t know. When I was trying to give her the sedative she – she grabbed my arm, and then it was burning. If I didn’t know it was impossible I would say she did it some how.”

Buffy shot Xander a nervous look. “Well, obviously that’s impossible. Maybe you came in to contact with something that gave you like a major bad reaction or something?”

The doctor looked uncertain. “Maybe...” He looked at Buffy again, and then around the room to see if they were being listened to. “I was also wondering, and this is going to seem like an odd question, but what colour are Miss Rosenberg’s eyes?”

Xander raised his eyebrows, “They're green, why?”


The doctor suddenly seemed both relieved and nervous, and still more than a little twitchy. “That’s what I thought when they first opened. It must have been a trick of the light then.”


Xander, who had been with Willow the night she had done the spell to reinsert Angel’s soul, had an inkling of what the doctor was talking about. Buffy, who had never really watched Willow when in the pull of magic, didn’t. “What was?”


The doctor gave her an embarrassed smile, “It’s nothing, really. It’s just for a minute... back there... it looked as though her eyes were – they were – well, black. Obviously my imagination. The sedation will last a couple of hours, but if you wouldn’t mind sticking around I think it would be a good idea for you to be here when she wakes again. A friendly face, having someone to talk to who knows what happened, she needs those things right now.”


Buffy nodded, “Sure, we’ll wait in her room with her.”

The doctor was clearly relieved, and after giving Willows room one more nervous look he excused himself and went off to take care of him arm.


Xander and Buffy went to get a coffee before beginning their stint of waiting out Willow’s sedation. Buffy took the time to ask Xander what he thought the doctor’s interest in Willow’s eyes was all about. “D’you think it’s a werewolf thing? Like her eyes are gonna be black from now on?”


Xander shook his head uneasily. “I think it’s a witch thing Buff. I’ve seen it happen before. When Will’s doing a difficult spell the magic kinda... I dunno... takes over or something. And her eyes go black.”


For some reason Buffy found herself shivering. “Do you think she did that to the doctors arm?”

Xander shrugged, “She may have done, without meaning to. Finding out the guy you loved died after trying to kill you... that’s gotta be one hell of a mind bend. She was bound to react strongly.”


Buffy nodded, thoughtful. “I wish we’d been here when she woke up, so we could have told her about Oz and not have some stupid nurse blurt it out before she was prepared.”


Xander, thinking of how panicked the nurses had looked, and the trace of fear he had seen in the doctors eyes, couldn’t quite agree.


They spent the next two hours waiting quietly in Willow’s room for her to come round. They tried to talk of other things, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything for long. Especially when Willow would occasionally stir.


When her eyes finally opened it was so quick, they were opened so instantly and so widely, that Buffy was taken aback.

“Wills?” Xander whispered the word, leaning forward in his seat so he could take her hand. Willow didn’t acknowledge his voice or his action. Her eyes instead turned until they landed on Buffy. Buffy, though relieved by their green colour, was shocked by the coldness that lay within them. Pain and anger warred within Willow, and it was as of yet uncertain which one she would let win.

When she spoke her voice was hoarse from lack of use but there was no escaping the venom which laced it. “Is Oz dead?”

Buffy nodded, feeling a stab in her gut when she saw the expression which crossed Willow’s face. She mimicked Xander’s action, leaning into Willow and taking her other hand.“Will, I'm so, so sorry. We’ve been so worried about you.”


Willow tugged her hand away from Buffy. “Really? You’ve been worried about me? Why Buffy? Because you killed my boyfriend? Because you killed Oz?”


Buffy shrunk back; stung by the way Willow was looking at her, as though she was a stranger. “No Willow, I - we’ve been worried because Oz almost killed you.”


Willow looked away from Buffy, and stared up at the ceiling. A tear slid down her cheek. “I wish he had.”


Xander squeezed Willow’s hand. “Don’t say stuff like that, please Will. You have no idea how much we’ve worried about you, how much you scared us. I know Oz is... gone, and I know I can’t ever understand how that feels, but – but we’re still here Wills. Me and Buffy, and Giles. Your friends. We’re still here and we love you. And we’re not going to lose you.”


Willow laughed a humourless laugh. “Oh, you love me? Great. Call me peachy with a side of keen then.”


Buffy shook her head, “Willow, we get that you’re hurting, we get that there’s nothing we can do to make that better. But we’re here for you.”

Willow’s eyes swung back to Buffy’s, and Buffy could see the black growing within them. For the first time in her life Buffy was scared of her friend.

“Like you were there for Oz?”


Xander couldn’t help the way his voice rose. “Willow, Oz was a werewolf. He killed people. He almost killed you, and he nearly killed Buffy. You can’t blame her or Spike for what happened!”


Willow seemed to ignore the first part of this speech, other than flinching slightly. “Spike? What's Spike got to do with it?”


Buffy looked at Xander, reluctant to say anything further. Unfortunately Willow worked it out on her own.

“Spike killed him? Spike killed Oz?”
Her eyes were most definitely black now.


Buffy tried once more to clutch at Willow’s hand. “He had to Willow, he had to. Oz was going to kill me. I would have died, and you would have died. And Oz would have gone on to kill other people, innocent people. Spike didn’t have a choice.”


“What about Angel Buffy? “

“Angel?” Buffy was confused by this turn in the conversation.

“Yes Angel. He killed people, plenty of them. He killed people we knew, people we cared about. And you let him get away with it for so long, because you loved him, because you couldn’t bear to let him go.”


Buffy nodded slowly. “You’re right. I let him get away with it. Many innocent people paid the price for my mistake. I live with those lives on my conscience Will, Miss Calendars especially. I’ll have to live with knowing I could have saved them for the rest of my life. Could you live with that many lives on your conscience? Cos I’m telling you now Will, it’s hard. And in the end I was ready, If not for Spike I would have killed him. I would have killed the man I loved.”


Buffy watched with aching relief as the black turned once more to green. Willow suddenly dropped her strong facade of anger and broke down as the pain, and the truth, became too much.

“Oz was innocent. He really was. He didn’t ask for any of this... he didn’t know what he was doing. It was my fault... it’s my fault he’s dead.”


Xander rubbed Willows arms and tried his best to calm her racking sobs. “Will it’s not your fault, how could it be?”

Willow shook him off. “It is my fault. I got... I got chains so that when he transformed he couldn’t get out... couldn’t hurt anyone. But I did it wrong... I did it wrong and he got out and I couldn't get him back, couldn't stop him...and now he’s dead!”

Buffy found herself brought to tears in the face of her friend’s agony. “What happened Will? How did it come to this?”

When she was able Willow began to talk. Her chest was constricted by the crippling pain and sharing the secret she had carried with her felt like the only way of relieving some of the pressure. Her voice was a dull monotone, crackling with an undercurrent of mingled sadness, bitterness and hurt.

“You probably don’t remember, but a couple of months ago Oz went down south to stay with his cousin. While he was there he got bitten. He didn’t realise what it was that attacked him, or how lucky it was he wasn’t more hurt. He just thought it was some sort of giant, mangy dog. But then he got back and he started to feel weird. Different. He was getting headaches and his senses were going haywire. He didn’t tell me about it. Not then anyway. We were all so busy dealing with Angel and Drusilla, and he didn’t think it was important anyway. But then you went to hell to get Spike back, and the full moon came. Oz went missing for three days. At first I thought he’d just gone off for some space, cos the weeks before had been pretty intense, you know? I thought it was weird he didn’t tell me, but I didn’t think anything could be seriously wrong.” Willow stifled a threatening sob and carried on. “Then he came to my house. He was so... so scared. I’ve never seen him like that. He said he’d woken up in a clearing on the outskirts of Sunnydale. He couldn’t remember anything, couldn’t remember where he’d been or what he’d done. But when he'd come round he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and he was covered in blood. It wasn’t... his blood.”


Xander went to interrupt but Buffy silenced him with a look.

“We didn’t know what to do... who to talk to... whether we should talk to anyone at all. But Oz was so scared. He was sure he’d done something wrong... something really wrong. I was going to talk to you, both of you, when Buffy got back. But then, as soon as you were back Giles told us about the werewolf... about the deaths... and I knew what was wrong with Oz. I just knew.”


Buffy took Willow’s hand again and this time she didn’t pull away. “Why didn’t you tell me Will? Why didn’t you tell me?”


Willows face was a horribly gray, and it was pinched so impossibly tightly with pain. “I’m not as strong as you Buffy. I’m not as brave. I’m not the slayer. I’m just a girl. I’m just a girl who loves –“ Willows thin voice cracked, “ – loved a boy. I couldn’t sacrifice him for the greater good, Buffy. I couldn’t. Whatever the cost I needed him safe, I needed him with me. He wasn’t a werewolf to me, he wasn’t a killer. He was Oz. My Oz. And now he’s gone.”

Willow’s eyes were brimming, overflowing. The way her heart was breaking was hideously clear to see. She looked at Xander, at Buffy, and she willed them to understand.
“Everything I did... the lying and the spells... I did it for him. To keep him safe. He was the first person - the only person - who ever made me feel... beautiful. Special. He wanted to come clean, to tell you what had happened and deal with the consequences. I wouldn’t let him. I made him keep it a secret. We were trying to find a way for him to control the – the wolf inside. We would have got there Buffy. We would have. In the end. But it was all for nothing wasn’t it? It was all for nothing. He’s gone. Isn’t he? He’s really gone.”

Willow cried then. She cried so hard she didn’t think she would stop.
Buffy and Xander stayed with her until pure exhaustion and pure pain carried her to sleep.



Over the next couple of days Willows condition stabilised, and Giles felt the time was right to tell her about the bite she had sustained and what it now meant for her.

For Willow the news didn’t come as a complete shock.
She remembered much of Oz’s fevered attack only too clearly; she knew she had been bitten.
She knew too that she must be a monster, because she felt like one.

For Willow the surprise came in the responses of her friends. They wanted to help her. She was on her way to becoming a demon now, as much of a demon as Oz had been, and she could potentially be just as deadly. But they weren’t turning their backs on her. To them she was the same person she had always been, and Willow was so grateful for that.


Giles told Willow of the coven in England as soon as they’d agreed to help, and she clutched at the opportunity with both hands. At the moment she was seeing everything through a blacked haze of painful grief. The thought of staying in Sunnydale, of walking the streets and seeing the places and people who would remind her of the one she’d lost, was a thought she couldn’t stand.

Willow knew now that she was to blame for Oz’s death. It was her fault, and hers alone. She should have had more faith in her friends, more faith in Oz, and less faith in her own powers of making things right. If she’d acted differently maybe none of this would have happened. It killed her to think it, it hurt her heart and darkened her soul, but she knew it to be true.
She needed to be somewhere else, to become someone else, just for a little while. Just until the hurting stopped hurting quite so bad.



The Rosenberg’s were told (by a man Giles hired to play a doctor) that Willow had sustained some very specific injuries and was being spent to a special hospital in England, one which could better serve her needs while she recuperated. It saddened Buffy to see how easily they accepted the ruse, how willing they were to let their daughter go. They loved Willow, that much was clear, but they were very far from being hands on parents. Buffy couldn’t ever imagine Joyce letting her be sent to a foreign country alone, and she was made freshly aware of just how amazing her own mother was.


As soon as Willow’s condition was advanced enough for her to travel she was gone, as the longer she had to spend with the coven before the next full moon the better.


The goodbyes were horrible. Xander in particular hated the thought of having the best friend he’d so nearly lost being so far away and going through so much practically alone. He and Willow clung to each other until the very last moment.

Buffy parted from her with just as much difficulty. Willow seemed suddenly older somehow, the effects of grief had shaken her foundations. She was not an awkward geeky teenager anymore, but a woman struggling to come to terms with a world of darkness. It pained Buffy to see it, but being forced to grow up quickly was something she understood.


Spike too had come to say his goodbyes. At one point he managed to have a moment alone with Willow, though detaching Xander had been a struggle. They looked at each other, long and hard.

Spike spoke, and when he did his voice said far more than his words. “I’m so sorry Red. I really am. Believe me, if there had been another way I would have taken it. I would’ve done anything to spare you this. I’ve been where you are, I know how it feels to lose someone you love so violently.”

Willow nodded. She’d wanted to hate Spike, to be able to lay all the blame of Oz’s death at his door. She wanted to hate him and have the pleasure of some day getting revenge. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t just because hate, like every emotion other than pain, seemed to have been banished from her body, it was because she knew that really it wasn’t Spikes fault. If she had been in his position she couldn’t say she wouldn’t have done the same. If it had been Buffy, about to kill Oz, Willow couldn’t honestly say she wouldn’t have taken Buffy out. That knowledge scared her even as it hardened her a little more inside.

“I know you understand Spike. And...thank you, for trying to help. I got your answer phone message; I should have listened to it. I shouldn’t have taken your memory away. I went about everything so wrong. I don’t blame you for what happened to - to Oz Spike, I blame myself.”

Spike could see the truth of her words. The guilt was eating her up as much as the grief, and it was awful to see. Acting on impulse Spike didn’t say anything aloud, but in his head he said a small incantation.

Within Willows chest a small ball of warmth suddenly blossomed, taking the edge off the cold which had consumed her since the night of Oz’s death. She smiled a small, awestruck smile. She looked at Spike with some of her old colour in her cheeks. The temporary relief from agony was as unexpected as it was wonderful and her words were heartfelt. “Thank you.”

Spike smiled a little in return. “You’re very welcome Red. Look after yourself yeah?”

Willow tried to smile back, and looked over to where her two best friends stood. “I’ll try to. And you... you look after Buffy ok? I’d ask you to look after Xander too, but somehow I don’t think that will happen.”

Spike chuckled. “Me and the whelp might surprise you. I’m not sayin I could ever put up with more than an hour in his company, but we might end up goin for the odd game of pool. Stranger things have happened. And as for Buffy...” Spike found his eyes drawn to the girl in question, and they burned with the intensity of all he felt for her. “I’ll look after her Red, til the end of the world”.


Willow saw the love on Spikes face, love which also radiated from Buffy, with a tainted mixture of sadness and bittersweet pleasure.


It was at that moment Giles interrupted, to say that their plane was ready to board.
Giles had decided to go with Willow to England as soon as her going was confirmed. She was almost as much of a daughter to him as Buffy, and he knew she needed someone from her old life with her to help her adjust to a new one. He wouldn’t be staying that long, he needed to be back in time for the beginning of the school year, but until then he would support Willow in any way he could.

Anna had left for home some days before, but only after both she and Giles had made it fairly clear to everyone that she’d be back. It was still very early days between them, but after Jenny Calendar's death Giles had never expected to meet anyone else who could make him feel... the indescribable way he felt. It was especially surprising to him that the someone in question was a demon, the type of person that he once would have condemned to death without thought.
Anna was a part of his life now, it just remained to be seen how big a part she would become.



As the overhead speakers announced again that the plane would soon be departing, the three original scoobies exchanged a last, lingering hug.

After the past few weeks some things would never be the same. But no matter what happened, some things always would.