DISCLAIMER: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" is copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Mutant Enemy Productions. I retain rights to the plot, but not the characters. This story is meant for enjoyment purposes only. No infringement is intended.

AUTHOR: Katrina

SYNOPSIS: B/S Fic. Answer to a challenge number 8 on Kantayra’s site. Buffy doesn’t die at the end of S5’s, The Gift, but Spike feels he’s completely failed as Dawn is hurt. Just as Buffy discovers her newfound feelings for the vampire, he distances himself from the Scoobies because he feels unworthy. Will Buffy be able to prove him wrong or will the new Evil in town prove him right?



ATONEMENT

Chapter 1 - Saving

Buffy Summers ran up the steps of the tall tower as fast as her legs could carry her. Her Slayer strength combined with determination, anger and a healthy dose of fear spurred her on, pushing past her aching limbs and shortness of breath as she finally reached the top and came to a shuddering halt.

Within seconds, she had taken in the scene before her and was on the move again, striding purposefully towards the couple at the end of the gangplank. An old man stood with his back to her but she ignored him, concerned only with reaching the young, dark-haired girl that stood in front of him, tied between two poles. The mystical Key that could open the doorway to Hell with just a drop of her blood. So powerful and yet so innocent.

As the Slayer, Buffy was sworn to do whatever she could to prevent the ritual from taking place. Even go so far as to kill the Key should she be too late and the ritual had begun. As her sister, however, she knew she'd never be able to do it.

"Dawn!" she called out, causing the young girl to lift her head and stare back at her.

Her tearful face a mixture of fear, relief and hope, Dawn desperately acknowledged her elder sisters presence. "Buffy!"

At that moment, the old man turned away from Dawn to face Buffy and her stomach dropped sickenly as she saw the small smile on his face and the large, bloodied knife in his right hand. She couldn't be too late. She wouldn't. Not now. Not when she was so near.

Quickening her pace, she barely registered the old man speak to her as she shoved him out of her way causing him to fall off the tower to the ground, and his death, below.

"Buffy, it hurts," Dawn sobbed as her sister came up to her.

"Don't worry, Dawn. Everything's going to be OK," Buffy assured her as calmly as she could while checking her sister's wound. It was a shallow cut, but the blood was already starting to form into drips that would fall within seconds if she didn't act fast.

Almost in anticipation of the event, lightning suddenly flashed across the night sky followed quickly by a low rumble of thunder.

Buffy briefly glanced upwards, then returned her attention back to the wound. "Sorry, no opening of portals and demon dimensions today, thank you very much," she muttered as she grabbed a handful of skirt from Dawn's dress, bunched it up in her hand and held it fast against the cut.

Her sister immediately shut her eyes and gasped sharply, biting her bottom lip against the pain.

"Sorry, Dawnie, but you know we can't take any chances, right?" the Slayer asked in concern.

Dawn opened her eyes and nodded slightly, a trembling smile making its way onto her lips. "I know. Thank you for coming to get me."

"Not about to lose you," Buffy replied as she gave her a reassuring smile in return. "Now," she said abruptly, turning businesslike as looked up at the ropes binding her sister's arms, "Let's get you untied."

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

Down below, the Scoobies paused as a mighty crash of thunder echoed around them.

The two witches clung to each other as they looked up at the raging sky in dismay fearing that the ritual had begun. Willow Rosenburg had only just recently cured her wicca lover, Tara Maclay, after the Hell God, Glory, had taken her mind and as she gazed from the sky to her girlfriend, she wondered if these were going to be their last minutes together.

Tara looked back at her and smiled softly before another loud boom filled the air and they moved closer, drawing comfort from each other's contact. If they died, it would be together.

Hidden away from prying eyes, Buffy's Watcher, Rupert Giles removed his hand from Glory's alter-ego, Ben and tried to ignore the pang of remorse he felt at killing another human being - even if said human being was sharing his body with a psychotic Hell God. Always casualties in war, he told himself firmly as he slowly stood up.

Another flash of lightning lit up the sky and he stared up at the tower. His earlier conversation with Buffy fore front in his mind, he knew what he had to try and do now that the ritual had started. The Key had to be destroyed. Dawn and Buffy were like the daughters he never had and it was with a heavy heart he walked over to the tower's steps and began to climb.

Nearby, Xander Harris and his fiancée, Anya, stood together looking up at the storm. Suddenly, a fork of lightning streaked down towards them, hitting a part of the tower. Seeing some of the structure collapse, the ex-vengeance demon shoved Xander out of the way just as wood and brick came hurtling downwards knocking her to the ground unconscious.

"Anya!" Xander yelled, fearing the worst when he sat up and saw his love laying prone on the ground a few feet away. He scrambled over to her and desperately clawed away the debris. "Anya…Hon," he said, reaching out and laying a hand along her cheek. "Speak to me," he pleaded. "Please".

His concerned frown turned into a relieved smile as she finally moaned. His relief was short lived however, when she turned her head towards him revealing a nasty gash on her forehead that was still bleeding. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a weak smile "Are you OK?" he asked softly, smiling tenderly back at her.

"Bit of a headache," she whispered back. He glanced concernedly at her wound as she added, "Has it started?"

Looking back at her, he followed her gaze upwards to the angry sky and let out a worried sigh. "I think so."

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

At the top of the tower, Buffy untied the rope binding her sisters right hand as quickly as she could using her free hand. "Here," she instructed as Dawn‘s hand fell free, "keep pressing your dress to your wound."

Dawn did as she was told and Buffy rapidly freed her other hand, then put her arm around her and slowly moved her away from the edge. Suddenly, lightning struck the tower and it rocked violently causing Dawn to let out a frightened scream.

"We have to hurry," Buffy told her sister as they made their way to the steps and began their descent.

Moving as fast as they were able considering Dawn’s injury, Buffy didn’t let up the pace until she noticed that the storm had started to calm down and the tower had stabilised. Letting out a relieved sigh, she smiled at her sister and slowed. They’d done it. They’d beaten a Hell God and come out of it, if not unscathed, then at least alive. "It’s over, Dawnie," she said, squeezing her sisters arm gently. "You’re gonna be fine. We all are."

Dawn smiled back, then grimaced slightly as a shaft of pain from her wound went through her. "I think I’ll be finer when I get this cut seen to," she commented wryly. "It kinda smarts."

"Oh God, sorry, Dawnie!" the Slayer exclaimed as she immediately urged her sister on down the steps again. They were almost at the bottom when they were met by Giles who was on his way up.

"Oh…Buffy…Dawn," he gasped as he stopped and bent over in front of them, trying to catch he breath. "You’re…both alright?" he asked, looking at them in concern.

"Dawn’s hurt but we stopped the blood in time so almost killing yourself running up these stairs was a waste of time, Giles. You don‘t have to worry about the portal opening anytime soon," Buffy told him coldly as she helped Dawn past him and continued down. She knew he’d seen the storm and thought the ritual had begun and his words from earlier that evening came rushing back.

He’d made it clear that he’d stop the portal opening no matter what the cost…even Dawn’s life. Even her own. She’d heard him say the words but had never thought he’d actually go through with it. Not really. Not until she’d seen him coming up the stairs.

She heard his sharp intake of breath at her words and him call out her name but she kept moving. "Not now, Giles. We have to get Dawn to the hospital."

Her sister made a sound of protest, but Buffy was adamant. "Dawn, I saw the amount of blood on the knife that demon was holding. The cut must be deeper than it looks. We need to get it seen to."

Dawn suddenly grabbed Buffys’ arm bringing them to a halt as she turned wide, frightened eyes to her sisters face. "Oh God, Buffy. Spike!" she exclaimed, fresh tears filling her eyes.

"Spike?" the Slayer repeated with a frown at hearing the blond vampire‘s name. Then, noticing Dawn’s distress, a feeling of dread shot through her. "What happened?" she asked trying to keep calm.

"He was up there but there was nothing he could do. He tried to save me but Doc was too quick for him and stabbed him in the back," the young girl told her as her tears fell. "The blood, Buffy. It’s his."

The Slayer looked at her in shock, then glanced upwards. "He was…but I didn’t see him…," she began, then blanched as a sudden thought hit. "Oh my God, he’s not…" She stopped unable to voice the thought aloud, desperately trying to recall if she’d seen any piles of dust. Of course not, the gangplank was grated. He would’ve slipped through and she wouldn‘t have anything left…

"No!" Dawn cried out. "He didn’t die." Her face took on a pained look. "At least, I don’t think he did." Her face crumpled and the tears came faster. "Oh God, his face, Buffy…he stared at me and he looked so…so…devastated, so helpless and then Doc pushed him off the tower…"

"Pushed him off?!" Buffy echoed sharply as she leant over the railing slightly to look first up, then down. "Oh, crap." Swallowing hard at the height he had fallen, she looked back at Dawn, torn.

"Look, I’m fine, you go and see if he’s alright," her sister urged with a watery smile.

"No, I need to get you…"

"I’ll make sure Dawn gets down safely," Giles interrupted quietly.

Buffy stared uncertainly at him for a moment and felt a sudden pang of guilt that she would even consider that he had ulterior motives. This was Giles for goodness sake and besides that, the danger had passed. She nodded and gave him a small smile then stepped aside as he moved next to Dawn and placed his arm around her waist.

"Thanks, Giles. I’ll see you two downstairs," Buffy said before clambering down the steps as quickly as she could.

"I hope he’s OK," Dawn uttered softly as she watched her sisters rapid descent.

"I’m sure he is," Giles replied with as much assurance as he could muster while moving her slowly on down the steps. "Now, let’s get you downstairs and off to hospital, shall we?"

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

Buffy reached the bottom of the tower and frantically scanned the surrounding area searching for the blond haired vampire. A movement to her right grabbed her attention and she turned quickly to see Willow and Tara making their way slowly towards her, arms wrapped around each other for support.

"You two OK?" Buffy asked taking in the dishevelled appearance of the witches.

"We’re good," the redhead replied smiling softly at her girlfriend before looking back at the Slayer. "What about you? No ritual, so I’m thinking everything went to plan?"

"More or less. Dawn’s wounded but we stopped the blood in time."

"Is she hurt bad?" Tara asked worriedly.

"No," the Slayer reassured them with small smile. "She has a cut on her stomach but it looks quite shallow."

"Oh good…not for the wound…but for the fact Dawnie‘s going to be OK," explained Willow on a relieved sigh before looking expectantly at the tower. "So, is Spike bringing her down now?"

"No, Giles is," the Slayer replied absently, the mention of the vampire’s name making her look around again. Her eyes fell on several piles of rubble that had shards of broken wood caught between the stones pointing skywards and felt her stomach clench in fear. If he’d landed on one of those…

"But I sent Spike up to help," the witch commented in confusion and then looked surprised as Buffy turned back to her, worry clearly evident on her face.

"He was stabbed and pushed off the tower, Will. I‘ve got to find him and make sure he‘s OK." At her friend’s curious look, she hastily added, "I…I mean because I promised Dawn…you know…to find him. She was worried."

Willow and Tara shared a glance before they both looked back at her with understanding smiles. "Of course. Dawn. We get it," Willow replied with an arch of her eyebrow.

Buffy felt her face start to warm and turned away unwilling to analyse at that moment why she was showing obvious stress over someone who, up until recently, she had purported to vehemently dislike. Find him first, then deal, she told herself firmly.

"So, you don’t happen to know where he landed, do you?" the Slayer asked hopefully.

"If you’re talking about the Evil Dead, he’s over there, Buff," came Xander’s voice from behind. She quickly turned and saw him nod his head to the right as he walked towards them carrying Anya. "I would’ve checked to see how he was but I’ve kinda got my hands full and to be honest, I really couldn‘t care less," he added, a small smile belying his words.

At the news that Spike wasn’t dust, relief flooded through the Slayer and she relaxed enough to roll her eyes and shake her head at her male friend. Then, running an experienced, but concerned, gaze over the girl in his arms, she frowned slightly. "That head wound looks nasty and you need to stay awake. When Giles brings Dawn down, she and I will go with you two to the hospital," she decided already moving off to continue her search for the vampire in the direction Xander had gestured.

He watched her until she was out of sight then turned to his friends. "Since when did the Buffster give a damn about the Bleached Wonder?" Xander asked the two witches with a frown as he started walking towards his car with them in tow.

"I’m guessing pretty much from the time she thought he might be dead," Willow replied, sharing a look with Tara.

"Shouldn’t that thought bring a smile to her face?" he queried uncomprehendingly.

"God, Xander, you can be so dense," Anya complained tiredly in his arms.

"Thanks, An," he retorted sarcastically coming to a stop by his car.

"Well, you are," she insisted, yawning widely. Tara walked around them and opened the back door of the vehicle as Anya continued, "It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Buffy cares for Spike."

Her fiancé looked stunned. "You know, Hon, I think that bump on your head has made you delirious," he said glibly as he gently placed her on the back seat then straightened up. "Buffy’s been there, done that and has the, ‘Vampire’s Suck’, T-shirt. Believe me, she’s so not going down that twisted road again, right, Will?"

When the redhead didn’t reply, he looked at her with a frown. "Willow?" he pressed, willing her to agree. She gave him a rueful smile and his eyes widened comically before he turned to the other witch. "Tara?" he asked faintly but with an edge of hope.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then also smiled apologetically and shrugged her shoulders.

A look of dismay spread over his face but before he could comment, a soft snore floated up from inside the car and he looked down to find Anya fast asleep. Worry pushed all thoughts of Buffy and Spike out of his head for the moment as he knelt down to tend to his fiancée.

END CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2 - Realisation

Stepping over scattered debris, Buffy had to sidestep quickly when she almost trod on a broken body that lay at a twisted angle. A smile of grim satisfaction spread across her features when she recognised the demon lying at her feet. It was the one she pushed off the tower, the one Dawn had called Doc. From the grotesque tilt of his head, she knew that his neck was broken and fleetingly wished she’d been able to inflict the deathblow directly. Turning away, she rounded another pile of rubble and halted momentarily when, there in front of her, she saw Spike’s motionless body laying face down.

Hurrying forward, she dropped to her knees by his side, her eyes darting over his body assessing the extent of his injuries. She saw where he’d been stabbed in the back and noted that there was still fresh blood oozing from the wound. As gently as she could, she reached out and turned him over. "Oh God," she murmured as his bloodied face came into view.

Carefully, she checked his head and realised that most of the blood came from a large cut on his right temple and a few scratches on his right cheek. Not surprising since it was the side that he’d landed on, she decided, looking at the broken concrete that lay around and underneath him.

Glancing up at the height of the tower, the urge to have killed Doc with her own bare hands hit even more fervently than before. Tears momentarily blurred her vision and she couldn’t help but wonder just when she‘d reached the point of caring for Spike so much.

Sighing, she tenderly placed her hand along his undamaged cheek, letting her eyes roam over the chiselled, high cheek boned features of the vampire that was once her mortal enemy.

Slick bleached blond hair, black clothes and a long leather duster all indicated at the predator he once was until the government had implanted a pain chip in his brain, effectively stopping him from feeding or hurting anyone human.

He’d begun helping the gang out when he realised he could still harm demons. At first, it had been purely for monetary gain but over the last few months, he claimed he was doing for love. Love for her. The Slayer. It was unthinkable and she hadn’t believed it. Didn’t want to believe it. It had disgusted and horrified her that an evil, soulless…thing…could think it had feelings for her. Vampires couldn’t love. No soul equalled no feelings, right? It was that simple.

And yet, when it came to Spike, she had begun to realise that things were never that simple. Actions spoke louder than words and there he lay after almost dying for Dawn. Again.

The first time had been when he’d withstood hideous torture at the hands of Glory because he wouldn’t reveal the identity of the Key. He’d told Buffy, disguised as a robot replica of herself, that he knew how much losing Dawn would hurt the real Buffy and he couldn’t stand for her to be in that much pain. He’d rather have died first and very nearly did, his badly beaten face and body a testament to the fact.

With sudden clarity, she realised that was the day her feelings for the vampire had changed. On some level, she had finally acknowledged that what he felt for her was real.

Hot on the heels of that insightful little bolt from the blue, came another, more shocking one. Ever since that day, she’d been slowly and inexorably falling for him herself.

Closing her eyes, she momentarily railed against that particular revelation but soon realised it was fruitless as her mind, once again, wandered back to when she‘d seen his post tortured state and she recalled the gesture that she now knew had changed everything.

That day, there had been no way for him to know that she was the real Buffy and when he had stopped talking, she had felt an overwhelming need to offer him comfort and say ’thank you’ in some small way for all he’d done for them. So, she’d leaned forward and given him a chaste kiss. No heat, no passion, no promise of anything more. Just a simple brushing of lips for his instinctive selfless act that, without either of them realising, had managed to open her heart to him far more effectively than anything he had contrived in the past.

A low moan broke her out of her reverie and she saw that the vampire was beginning to come round. Still coming to terms with her little epiphany, she hastily removed her hand, not quite sure how to deal with the new feelings that she was only just acknowledging within. Just act normally, she told herself firmly. First things first, get Dawn and Anya to the hospital. Deal with feelings for Spike tomorrow.

The vampire’s head moved as if searching, once more, for her touch and then his eyes fluttered open. He blinked a couple of times and then blue eyes locked with green as he stared at her, slightly dazed. "Slayer?" he said uncertainly then, seconds later, his eyes widened suddenly. A look of pure horror came over his features and without warning, he sat bolt upright, his panicked face stopping mere inches from her own. "Dawn!" he cried hoarsely. "Is she…did you…?"

"Dawn’s fine," Buffy hastily assured him. "She’s with Giles. No portal open. Everything good."

Spike closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Dawn was fine. He hadn‘t failed…not completely anyway. Dawn was fine and so was Buffy. "Thank God for that," he muttered in relief then grimaced and moaned as the pain from his battered body began to register in full force.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, stiffly moving a hand around to the wound in his back and tutting angrily when his fingers came away smeared with blood. Looking at Buffy, he glanced at the tower and asked, "Doc?"

"Dead," she replied simply.

"Good," he huffed and then shook his head. "Can’t believe that little pipsqueak bested me," he muttered, disgusted with himself.

"Well, from what Dawn said, there was nothing more you could‘ve done," Buffy assured him, as she stood up and held her hand out to him.

Still bristling from the fact that he‘d been beaten so easily by the other demon, he felt himself grow angry at her proffered hand. "I’m not helpless," he ground out, waving away her offer of help. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself awkwardly to his feet before adding derisively, "And as for what Bit told you, truth is, Slayer, I was too slow. Platelet was just being nice."

"Can‘t imagine why when you‘re such a stubborn pain in the ass," Buffy muttered as she let her arm fall back to her side feeling a mixture of disappointment and irritation that he hadn’t accepted her help.

"What?" he questioned with a frown before moving forward and letting out a yelp of pain as his left leg gave out beneath him.

"Spike!" Buffy cried as she lunged forward and caught his arm, steadying him before he could tumble back to the ground. "What’s wrong with your leg?" she asked in concern.

"Think I must’ve twisted it when I fell," he replied through gritted teeth, as the pain quickly subsided.

"Can you walk?"

He gingerly put his weight on his leg again and nodded. "If you can call shuffling, walking," he mumbled in aggravation.

Buffy released his arm and couldn’t help but smile at the annoyed vampire. "Remind me never to push you off a tower," she said teasingly. "Makes you cranky."

Spike scowled at her then started hobbling away.

"Uh, Spike?" Buffy called from behind him.

He stopped and turned clumsily in her direction. "What?" he snapped.

"It’s this way," she told him smiling sweetly and jabbing her thumb over her shoulder.

His mouth tightened but he silently limped back over to her and growled softly as he carried on past.

‘Not big on the funnies when in excruciating pain. Check,’ Buffy mentally noted as she sighed and followed after him. Drawing level, she grabbed his left arm and placed it around her shoulders then slipped her right arm around his waist offering quiet support.

He stiffened slightly and looked down at her. For a moment she thought he was going to pull away, but then he gave her a curt nod of thanks and leaned into her as they continued on their way.

As soon as they rounded the pile of rubble a few feet away, Spike jerked to a stop and stared at Doc’s prone body. With a glance at Buffy, Spike looked back at Doc and a nasty smile appeared on his face. "Could you give me a moment, luv?" he asked quietly, removing his arm from her shoulder. "Just need a spot of unnecessary violence."

Buffy nodded and stepped back knowing that the vampire needed to vent some of his frustration, even if it was on an already dead demon. Hell, she’d have done it herself if she hadn’t been so intent on getting to Spike.

The vampire limped over to the body and looked down at it unemotionally. This was the thing that had nearly hurt Dawn. Although he had promised Buffy to protect her sister, he knew he would have done it anyway. Somewhere during the time he had fallen in love with the Slayer he had also grown fond of her family too. Genuinely fond. Although he doubted whether Buffy or any of her friends actually realised that.

Joyce had always treated him like a friend…well…apart from that whole ‘hitting him over the head with an axe’ incident a few years back…but, he’d been a different vampire then and, truth be told, he’d secretly admired her spirit from then on.

And, the Niblet; well, she’d stolen into his undead heart as sneakily as her sister and he now looked upon her as the sibling he’d never had. Suddenly, an image of her scared face just before he was thrown off the tower flashed into his mind and his features twisted in contempt for the demon at his feet.

Ignoring the pain in his left leg, he lifted his right and brought it down hard on Doc‘s chest listening in satisfaction to the sound of bones crunching and snapping under the pressure. He ground his heel in for good measure, then withdrew his blood covered boot and stood back surveying the damage. "See you in Hell, you bastard," he told the unmoving body before turning away and hobbling back to Buffy’s side.

"Feel better?" she asked, slipping her arm around his waist again.

"Much," he replied, settling his arm comfortably about her shoulders.

Nothing more was said and the pair continued on their way as if they’d never stopped. They reached the patch of clear ground near the tower steps and saw Willow and Tara standing by Dawn talking to each other while the youngster sat quietly on a large piece of rock, looking in their direction.

As soon as the teenager saw them, a huge grin spread over her face. "Buffy! Spike!" she called, causing the witches to break off their conversation and look over, smiles of their own lighting up their faces.

The two warriors smiled back in response and quickened their pace only to come to a shuddering stop when an excited Dawn went to stand up and let out a small cry of pain. Having forgot about her wound for a moment, she had inadvertently jarred it, the pain causing her to sit back down heavily.

Buffy heard Spike let out a loud hiss and glanced up to see a look of shock and anger on his face as he stared at her sister, or more accurately, the bloodied skirt scrunched up against the young girl‘s stomach.

"Bloody hell, Slayer," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly before opening them to reveal a suspicious moisture lurking in their depths. "You didn’t tell me she got hurt," he accused falteringly, eyes still firmly on Dawn.

"I…," she began but Spike just shook his head and removed his arm from around her shoulders, pulling away from her grasp at the same time.

"Doesn’t matter," he interrupted coolly. "Not like you’re obliged to tell me anything. Only a vamp after all." Without giving her the chance to respond, he then limped over to Dawn, eased himself down next to her and reached out to cover one of her small hands in his, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Realising she only had herself to blame for his way of thinking, Buffy followed slowly after him. She gave the witches a half smile as they stepped back to allow her to sit down on the other side of her sister. Offering silent comfort of her own, Buffy lifted her hand and gently rubbed the young girl’s back.

Spike studiously ignored the elder Summers sister and focussed on Dawn. "Let me see," he requested quietly.

Dawn stared up at him, then carefully pulled the fabric away from her stomach wincing as some of the congealed blood that had stuck to the skirt pulled on her tender skin.

Once the long, thin cut was revealed to his gaze, Spike felt a rush of guilt crash through him. He had failed after all. "I’m sorry, Niblet," he whispered, looking at the young girl contritely.

Shaking her head vigorously, Dawn quickly re-covered her wound then smiled at him. "It‘s not your fault, Spike," she replied softly. "And anyway, it’s not as bad as it looks."

Spike swallowed and gave her a ghost of a smile back. "Right, well, we best get you to the hospital then. Just to be on the safe side, eh?" he said as he stood up.

The teenager groaned in protest but Buffy silenced her by saying, "Spike’s right, Dawnie. It probably needs stitches."

Dawn sighed loudly then went to stand up. Spike bent to help her but Buffy stopped him with a wave of her hand. "It‘s OK, I’ll see to Dawn, Spike. We’re getting a lift with Xander. Anya needs treatment for a cut on her head and a check-up to make sure she doesn’t have concussion."

Spike immediately stepped back as if he’d been slapped, his face assuming a blank expression. "Of course. Don’t know what I was thinking. You don’t need my help," he said with a touch of bitterness. "I’ll just go and…"

"You’ll just go to my house with Will and Tara and have them see to your injuries, Spike," Buffy interrupted firmly. She had guessed that he thought she was pushing him away. Hell, she’d done it so many other times in the past it was understandable he’d expect no different. Only now, she knew it was different and she wanted him to see that too.

She was pleased when his expression softened but, then he surprised her by abruptly turning away and saying offhandedly, "I’ll heal, Slayer. Crypt’s good enough for me."

"Spike!" she called out to his retreating back, resisting the urge to stamp her foot. He stopped and turned back to look at her, eyes narrowed. "Please," she coaxed softly and gave him a small smile.

He looked around himself in surprise, just making sure that she was talking to him, then met her beseeching gaze once more and found himself nodding slowly. "Ok, Slayer, if it‘ll make you happy." She nodded and he slowly walked back over, following the Slayer and her friends to where Xander and Giles were waiting by their vehicles.

As Spike walked around to the passenger side of Giles’ car, he watched Buffy help a stumbling Dawn over to Xander’s vehicle. The pained expression on the young girl’s face as she settled down in the back next to Anya sent a fresh wave of guilt flooding through him and he looked down at his feet with a glum expression. It was all his fault.

Once Dawn was comfortable, Buffy got into the passenger seat next to Xander. Out of the window, she saw Willow and Tara get in the back of Giles’ car while Spike prepared to get in the front. As they drove slowly past, he looked up and their eyes met briefly before he looked away and got in the car. Buffy frowned, then looked straight ahead wondering why the blond vampire had looked so inexplicably sad.

END CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

Upon reaching Buffy’s house, Giles excused himself to go and make a phone call about Ben. He felt it only right that the man should at least have a proper burial and so he‘d decided to make a call to the authorities. Anonymously, of course.

Tara headed to the kitchen to make them all a hot drink while Willow and Spike went into the lounge. "Right, you just sit there while I go and get some supplies and stuff," the redhead instructed as she pointed the vampire towards the couch. "I‘ll only be a minute."

"You really don’t need to do this, you know, Red," Spike sighed as he turned to face her but found himself talking to an empty hall. "Not that my opinion matters of course," he muttered grumpily as he made his way over to the couch.

Taking off his duster, he held it up and scowled at the hole in the back. "Another war wound, eh, old girl? Sorry about that. You‘ll have more scars than me if this keeps up." He gently folded the coat and placed it on the arm of the settee, running his hand lovingly over the cool leather. "Still, nothing more than I deserve though, eh?" he continued, his hand fisting into the soft fabric. "Should’ve been quicker, should’ve knocked the knife out of Doc’s hand," he admonished himself, angrily balling his coat between his hands. "Anything! Then the Niblet wouldn’t have got HURT, you pathetic twat!" With a loud growl, he turned and furiously threw his duster across the room, knocking a lamp over in the process.

Grimacing at the pain the savage movement had caused the wound in his back, he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes waiting for the throbbing to ease. Body finally relaxing, he opened his eyes again and surveyed the damage he’d done.

"Sod it," he groaned as he eyed the mess on the floor. With a sudden self-derisive snort of laughter, he shook his head then walked over to the broken light and began picking up the pieces, fervently wishing that it would be as easy to do so with his own unlife. By the time he’d finished, he’d cursed himself to all kinds of Hell and back and had thoroughly convinced himself that he’d failed in keeping his promise to Buffy. He hadn’t kept Dawn safe and she was at the hospital this very minute having the result of his failure tended to.

"Everything OK?" Giles asked, popping his head around the corner, the noise having disturbed his phone conversation.

"Peachy," the vampire muttered sarcastically.

The Watcher’s eyes narrowed when he saw Spike holding what was left of the light. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing much, Rupert," Spike answered blithely, dumping the remains of the lamp into the waste basket with a loud clatter. "Just the stupid vamp ballocksing things up…again!"

"Oh…well…very good," the man replied, his attention being drawn back to the phone which was emitting frustrated sounds. "Carry on."

"Carry on?!" Spike repeated in disbelief as he watched Giles walk away. "Right, I’ll just wreck the place then, shall I?" he added loudly, then shook his head as he looked around the room coming to a decision. He had to get out of there. Now.

Not only was it obvious that no-one really gave a damn whether he was there or not, he just couldn’t be here when they brought Dawn back. He couldn’t face her. Couldn’t face them. Any of them. Didn’t want to have to sit through the long dissection of what had happened with Glory. What could’ve been done different. What could’ve been done better. Because he knew then that he’d eventually see the accusatory glares directed at him and hear the damning words that would confirm how truly worthless he was; and tonight, more than any other, he really couldn’t bear it.

Picking up his coat, he gave it a shake and put it back on. Ignoring the soreness of his leg and stabbing pain in his back, he strode towards the door and grabbed a hold of the handle. He was going back to his crypt, get stinking drunk, then sleep for a week and no-one was going to stop him.

"Hold it right there, Mister! Just where do think you’re sneaking off to?" came Willow’s best authoritative voice.

Hand still resting on the doorknob, Spike jumped slightly and turned to see two stern looking witches staring back at him, their hands full of ointments and bandages.

"I am not sneaking," he retorted defensively.

"Are so sneaking," the witch insisted. "Your whole posture was one of pure and…and positive…sneak. Well, apart from the fact that I’d expect you to probably be a little more…you know…kinda…hunched over…"

"Oh, and on tip toes," Tara added helpfully.

"Yeah, right," Willow agreed, sharing a smile with her girlfriend before glancing back at the vampire and adding teasingly, "Not to mention looking over your shoulder every now and then with an evil grin."

Spike threw his hands up in disgust and took a couple of steps towards them. "What am I, Dick bloody Dastardly for God’s sake? Big Bad here, remember? I do not creep around like some ridiculous cartoon villain, all hat and moustache," he replied with a frown.

"I think a moustache might suit you," said Tara, tilting her head to one side and narrowing her eyes as if imagining how he might look.

"I think a goatee would be better," Willow offered, tilting her head the same way as Tara’s and adopting the same expression.

Spike let out an angry growl, called them stupid bints and spun around, heading towards the door.

"Wait, Spike, you can’t go yet, we haven’t cleaned up your injuries," Willow called out as she hurried after him.

"Don’t bother," he flung over his shoulder irately, as he opened the door and stalked out into the night. He couldn’t handle one more second of their mocking. First Buffy and now them. Out of all the Scoobies, the witches were the ones he actually quite liked and he couldn’t help but be a little hurt at their behaviour. When it came down to it though, he wasn’t really surprised. He deserved to be ridiculed.

Just as he reached the sidewalk, a firm hand gripped his arm and he turned to see Willow standing there with her resolve face firmly in place. Spike was about to tear his arm away when her features softened and she said quietly, "I’m sorry, Spike. Really. We were only having some fun." At his scowl, she added by way of explanation, "You know, post-almost-apocalypse-near-death, kind of teasing. Nothing meant by it."

She gave him a tentative smile and after a few seconds, he sighed. "Apology accepted, Red. Can I go now?"

"Nope, injury fixage first," she replied, trying to pull him back towards the house. When it looked as though he was going to object again, she played her ace. "Buffy really does want you feeling better. You wouldn‘t want to upset her what with having to worry about Dawnie and all, would you?" she asked plaintively, pinning him with an innocent look.

The vampire shook his head in resignation. "That’s a low blow, Witch," he commented in half-hearted annoyance, as he took a step back towards the house. He’d go get this done and then leave.

Willow smiled triumphantly but didn’t let go of his arm until he was sitting between the two Wicca’s on the Summers’ couch.

"Take off your shirt and coat," Willow ordered as she began arranging the various first aid supplies on the coffee table.

Unable to resist, Spike raised his eyebrows, turned to Tara and smirked. "Is that the same chat up line she used on you?" he asked the Wicca interestedly.

Tara reddened slightly and laughed. "No, but it would’ve worked just as well."

"Tara!" Willow exclaimed, her look of shock rapidly changing to a smile as she added, "Really?"

"Oh, yeah," her lover practically purred in response.

"Would’ve saved a whole lot of time if I had known that earlier," the redhead declared with feeling. The two women shared a grin then looked at the vampire expectantly.

With a sigh, Spike stood and slipped out of his duster then pulled his T-shirt over his head, holding back a grimace as the knife wound protested painfully at the movement.

Carefully sitting down again, he held himself still as the two women began their administrations. Tara patched up the cut on his face while Willow tended to his back. When they were finished they asked about his leg but upon hearing that Spike and underwear didn’t mix, they all agreed that he’d be better off just resting it for a few days.

The witches cleared everything away then Tara went back into the kitchen to fetch their drinks. Willow stayed with Spike to help him put his T-shirt on so that he didn‘t disturb the dressing on his back too much.

"I’m not two, you know," he growled when she chirpily ordered him to put his arm up then proceeded to slide the material over his left hand and down. Unfazed, Willow ordered his arm down and repeated her command for his right. His moaning at the humiliation of it all was mostly muffled by Willow pulling the fabric down over his head, none too gently.

"OW! Watch it, Red. Almost had a fellow’s ears off," he complained, rubbing at his left lobe.

"Oops, sorry," she giggled, looking anything but.

At that moment, Tara came back with the drinks and Giles entered the room bearing news. "I’ve just spoken to Buffy and she says that Xander is bringing her and Dawn home now. Unfortunately, Anya has to stay in for observation overnight."

"Is Dawnie, OK?" asked Tara in concern.

"From what Buffy told me, Dawn’s had to have sutures but other than that she’s fine," the Watcher explained with a smile. "I’m sure after some rest she’ll be right as rain."

"Oh, well that’s great," said Willow with a relieved sigh. "I mean, not so much for Anya, because…hospitals…yuck…but definite good for Dawn. Right?"

The last was directed at Spike who had stopped listening to the conversation going on around him upon hearing that Buffy and Dawn were on their way back. He stared back at the redhead vacantly for a moment and then nodded his head. "Uh, yeah".

The urge to get out, and get out fast, came back to him in full force. When Tara held out a mug of hot chocolate to him, Spike all but snatched it out of her hand and drained it in one long gulp. Slamming the empty mug down on the coffee table, he stood abruptly and then froze as the front door opened and Buffy and Dawn entered the house.

Too bloody late.

"We’re back," Buffy called as the duo went into the living room where Willow, Tara and Giles immediately greeted all of them enthusiastically. Unlike, Spike, Buffy noted, who seemed to be frozen in place by the couch.

The vampire watched Dawn accept the gentle hugs and well wishes from her friends and felt a little of his tension ease. Apart from her obvious tiredness and the fact she was in some discomfort from her wound, she seemed her normal self. At least his foolishness hadn’t caused any permanent damage and for that he was thankful.

He glanced at Buffy and saw she had her back to him and was talking to Giles, explaining that Xander had dropped them off and gone straight back to the hospital. Deciding that it was a good time to make a quiet exit before the recriminations started, he moved stealthily towards the front door. Opening it silently, he paused on the threshold and allowed himself one last look back at the small group of friends and the woman he loved. "See you around, Slayer," he whispered, then quickly left the house and walked off, losing himself in the dark shadows of the night.

END CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

He opened the door and walked into the bar. Stopping just inside threshold, his nostrils flared in anticipation at what was there for the taking. He could smell it. Through the stench of alcohol and blood, he could definitely smell it.

Pain. Incredible pain. Of the heart. Love. Rejection. "Despair," he hissed in satisfaction.

Taking a couple of steps forward, his gaze swung from side to side in an attempt to home in on his quarry.

Suddenly, his head snapped to the right and his eyes widened. "There you are," he murmured, giving his prey the once over. A malevolent smile made its way to his lips. "Soon be out of your misery," he promised before heading over to the nearby table.

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

Buffy slammed the front door shut and angrily stalked over to her weapons chest. She lifted the lid, then pulled out stakes from various hiding places on her person and threw them in the box all the while muttering curses about Spike.

Job done, she let the lid drop back down ignoring the loud bang it made and walked into the kitchen still mumbling to herself.

Flicking the switch on the kettle, she got a mug out from under the sink and placed it next to the appliance. While waiting for the water to boil, she leaned back against the counter and folded her arms.

Scant seconds later, she was on the move again, her agitation clearly showing in the way she paced the kitchen floor.

"Dammit, Spike, what the hell's going on with you?" she suddenly exclaimed coming to a halt and staring up at the ceiling as though it could somehow provide the answers to all her confused questions about the vampire.

Ever since the night two weeks ago when they’d beaten Glory and he’d walked out of her house without even so much of a goodbye, Spike had kept his distance. Literally.

He never turned up at the Magic Shop or stood outside her house anymore. In fact, the only time she saw him now was when they patrolled. And she hated it.

His self-enforced withdrawal from her world had been swift and painfully effective and she hadn’t even realised it had happened until it was too late.

He’d seemed fine when Dawn and herself had gone to see him the day after he’d walked out. A little drunk maybe, but still pretty much his usual self. Just less swagger and sarcasm but she’d put that down to his inebriated state.

She’d insisted on checking his wounds and, satisfied that they were healing nicely, she’d listened to her sister reprimand the vampire for leaving without speaking to her first.

He’d looked suitably chastened and his excuse for walking out suddenly had been that he’d heard something outside the house and gone to investigate and he hadn’t wanted to alarm anyone. Feeble, but an excuse, and when he wasn’t any further forthcoming, they had accepted it with Dawn eliciting a promise from him never to do it again.

They’d left soon after and Buffy had stayed away for the next couple of days giving him a chance to heal completely and her a chance to sort out her jumbled emotions.

Although she'd tried, she could no longer deny her feelings for the vampire and despite her insecurities, she realised that if she could make a go of it with anyone then it'd be Spike. She knew he wouldn't ever leave her, heck, he'd proved that already. She'd seen his gentle, caring side with her sister and herself on the odd occasion she'd allow it and the fact that he was extremely easy on the eyes didn't hurt either.

The only problem she foresaw would be getting her friends to accept him, especially as she'd been such an ardent advocate of 'kick the Spike' in the past.

It hadn't taken her long to come up with a simple plan to solve that little obstacle however. It was easy. Get Spike to mix with her and the Scoobies for a little while so the gang would get used to him being around more and then when she was ready to admit how she felt, everyone would be happy. Well, maybe not Xander or Giles so much, but everyone else would be fine.

It was perfect. Really. Win, win situation all round.

True, it sounded a little selfish, even to her own mind, but after the track record she had with her love life, she had a right to err on the side of caution for once. Didn't she?

Obviously not if a certain vampire’s recent actions had been anything to go by. His growing detachment had become apparent when they'd started to make regular patrols.

Of course, the fact that she had seemingly become incapable of forming a coherent sentence around him for the first few days of their current arrangement may have been the reason for his withdrawal. Just turning up at his crypt, saying "patrol" and walking out again before he could see her blush was probably not the best way to convey "I want to spend some time with you" she decided ruefully.

That said, when she had recovered her speech again, she had been nice to him. More than nice. No punching, no name calling, inviting him in to her home and out to the Bronze the last week so surely that more than made up for her other less than articulate displays, didn't it?

Again, obviously not, because he'd politely declined every invite she made. Politely for heaven's sake! What was that all about?

She was beginning to be at a loss to know what to do. Even the lure of hot chocolate with marshmallows hadn’t worked when she’d invited him in a couple of nights ago.

The one time she’d asked him why he kept rejecting her invites, he’d merely shrugged his shoulders and said that some of Glory’s minions might still be around and he just wanted to keep an ear to the ground until he knew everything was safe for Dawn again.

Although Buffy had said that she appreciated his concern, she’d also told him that she didn’t think an extra hour here and there with her and the gang would make that much difference, but he’d remained adamant.

She tutted. "One minute he’s constantly by my side professing undying love and the next he’s treating me as if I’ve got garlic breath or something," she muttered grumpily as the kettle clicked off drawing her attention.

She poured herself a coffee then walked into the lounge and sat down on the couch, drawing her feet up underneath her as she continued to contemplate the temperamental blond.

Having expected him to jump at an opportunity to be with her in public, his rejection of her invites and therefore herself, had been a shock. So much so that she could no longer ignore the unwelcome conclusion that had been drumming at the back of her mind for the last couple of days; he didn’t love her anymore.

Just forming that thought caused a pain in her heart that, even though she'd only just accepted her feelings, still managed to surprise her.

Shaking her head, she sipped her drink and determinedly pushed the unwanted thought to the back of her mind almost immediately. She was being paranoid. On more than one occasion during patrol, she had caught him looking at her and had seen the flash of desire in his eyes before he hurriedly dropped his gaze.

He still loved her, she was sure, but something had changed and she couldn’t for the life of her think what.

‘Time for something drastic’, she told herself as she sat up and placed her mug on the coffee table in front of her. Drawing in a long calming breath to settle her nerves at the daunting task she’d decided upon, she nodded her head abruptly and stood up. "Gotta talk to my friends."

A couple of seconds later, she nodded her head again then sat back down. "To tired to dance tonight, I'll just catch them tomorrow".

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

Spike sat in the darkest corner of Willy’s bar and slowly exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke. Picking up his shot glass, he brought it to his lips, tipped his head back and let the amber liquid burn a trail of fire down his throat. He slammed the glass back down and picked up the bottle for a refill.

He paused midway to the glass as an image of Buffy dancing closely with some faceless man flashed into his tortured mind and he brought the bottle to his lips instead.

Drinking deeply, he cursed himself for the hundredth time for not accepting when Buffy asked him to the Bronze, but he knew he didn’t belong there. He belonged here. Alone. Thirst momentarily sated, he put the bottle down and wiped his mouth with his cuff.

Eyes narrowed, he surveyed the bar as he took a long drag on his cigarette and pushed the smoke out through his nose. Unusually for this time of night, it was relatively quiet which meant there was less chance for him to work off some of his pent up aggravation and more chance for him to think about Buffy.

Buffy. The woman he'd love for the rest of his existence and who he knew would never love him back. The woman he'd made a promise to but, when it came to keeping it, he'd failed miserably.

"Guilt, thy name is Buffy," he murmured despondently. A picture of the younger Summers sister clutching her bloodied skirt to her stomach briefly flashed into his head and his mouth tightened grimly. "Or is it Dawn?"

Taking another long drink, he leaned back in his chair and rested the bottle on his knee continuing his perusal of the bar. There had to someone here he could pick a fight with and end all his poncey introspection.

Looking around, he saw the usual scum that frequented Willy’s each night although there were a few faces he hadn’t seen before.

A couple of tables away to his left sat three Jitsu demons. They were small, jaundiced looking creatures with large heads and large hands. Deceptively strong, they used telepathy to communicate and at that moment one was looking directly at him.

Spike stared back hoping that he might get a little action quicker than he thought. The creature turned back to his companions and obviously telegraphed something as, suddenly, all three looked over at the blond.

The vampire growled low in his throat and gave them a smirk as he straightened in his seat then watched half amused, half disappointed as the three turned away, quickly finished their drinks then got up and hurried out of the bar.

"Bugger," he mumbled, "Knew the growl was too much." He slouched back in his seat again only to look over to his left when the sound of crying caught his attention. At a table across the room, a young girl sat dabbing a tissue to her opaque eyes while a man, whose back was to Spike, was clearly trying to calm her.

Lovers tiff, the vampire decided and was about to turn away when he noticed the girls long brown hair. Almost immediately, Dawn’s face appeared before him once again which, as usual, was quickly followed by Buffy's and he closed his eyes, finally giving in to his brain that apparently didn’t think he’d suffered enough yet.

Finishing his cigarette, he dropped the butt on the floor and left it to smoulder as his mind wandered back over the past couple of weeks.

He'd been surprised when the Niblet and the Slayer had turned up at his crypt the day after his departure from their house. He had thought that since the danger had passed, he wouldn't be seeing Buffy again until another apocalypse threatened.

The fact that he'd drunk himself into oblivion the night before and had still been under the alcohol's influence didn't help the situation either. Otherwise, he would've been in a better position to object when Buffy stalked straight over to him and demanded that she check his bandaged wounds.

Instead, he'd meekly stood there and allowed her warm hands to roam over his body, both loving and hating it at the same time. Loving it because of who she was and hating it because he knew he didn't deserve her attention.

The Slayer's hands had barely left him before Dawn's harsh admonishment of his leaving without saying goodbye had penetrated his muzzy head.

That was more like he deserved.

He had offered a token excuse to appease the young woman but he knew that both she and her sister hadn't believed him for a second. Guiltily, he'd looked away from their disappointed gazes and at the teen's insistence, automatically promised that he wouldn't do it again.

And he wouldn't, because realising that he’d unwittingly let them down yet again, everything had suddenly become clear to him - every hurtful word that had ever come out of Buffy’s mouth about him was the truth.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it before, but there was no denying it any longer. He was beneath her. He was beneath both of them. He had no right to be near them, no right to touch them, no right to love them…no right to be in their world. And, if he wasn't in their world, then he wouldn't be in a position to let them down again. Simple.

Except it wasn’t. Not when he knew that he couldn't let the Slayer patrol without back up. He'd dust himself if anything ever happened to her and so the only concession to his decision was that he'd still help her if she needed it. In any case, he'd reasoned with himself, technically, while patrolling she was in his world and that made it OK.

Spike brought the bottle to his mouth and drank deeply until nothing remained then put it back down on the table with a snort. It had been so straightforward in his head but in practice, it was proving harder than he ever could've imagined because, surprisingly, Buffy had asked for his help pretty much every night since then. Well, if you could call her turning up at his crypt, holding up a stake while saying, "patrol" before walking back out, asking.

He hadn't expected her to seek him out quite so often and there were moments when he let himself indulge in the fantasy that it was because she wanted to, but deep inside, he knew better.

Her lack of insults and fists to his face proved that. Hell, she didn’t even like him enough to issue the mildest of threats anymore.

No, the only reason she patrolled was that she was just as much worried as he was that some of Glory's minion's might still be out there willing to harm Dawn. Even though her time as the mystical Key was over, they couldn’t rule out possible revenge. They'd talked about it one night while out on patrol. Talked about a lot of things lately, he realised. Or rather, she talked and he listened. He knew his opinion wasn't worth anything anyway, so he rarely offered one now.

Sure, if she wanted to know what kind of demon she'd just killed or anything else to do with the ‘job’ he'd oblige, but apart from that he kept his mouth shut. Worked better that way. No conversation, no chance of getting drawn back in.

Naturally, being the Slayer, she wasn’t making it easy for him. Asking his opinion on various aspects of her life, sharing gossip about the Scoobies and, unbelievably, even going so far as to asking him in for hot chocolate when he walked her home some nights or onto the Bronze on others. Of course, he knew the latter was probably because of the Bit’s nagging, but still…

He suddenly laughed derisively at the irony of the situation. Not a couple of months before he'd desperately sought a crumb from the Slayer and had been shot down in flames. Now, there she was, dangling the whole damn cake slap bang in his face but every time he felt the urge to grab it with both hands, an image of Dawn's pained face would pop into his head and that was it.

Soddin’ bleedin’ typical.

The overwhelming guilt was becoming the conscience he'd lived so long without and as much as he rebelled against the feeling, he was becoming enslaved by it more and more each day. The only solace he found was at the bottom of a bottle. Many bottles in fact. The drink numbed the ache…for a while. And a while is exactly what he needed right now.

Standing up, he walked to the bar and put the empty bottle on the counter. "Same again, mate and one for luck," he ordered, digging around in his duster pocket and slapping a couple of bills on the drink stained top.

Willy looked over at him then shook his head as he bent down and pulled two bottles out from under the counter. He put them next to the empty bottle and took the cash whispering nervously, "Uh, try not to cause any trouble tonight please, Spike."

The vampire raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips contemplatively before gesturing vaguely behind him. "Well, the thing of it is, Willy," he finally replied, "Demon bar. Trouble tends to happen every now and then."

"Yeah, every now and then goes with the territory, but you've been in here every night for the last ten days and I'm running out of chairs," Willy pointed out worriedly as he handed him back his change and added, "And customers".

"Sometimes getting information takes a bit of persuasion," Spike shrugged unconcernedly as he grabbed one of the bottles and unscrewed the top. He took a long draft then leaned back casually, resting on his free elbow on the counter and looked unhappily about the room. "Anyway, I don't think you'll have to worry tonight, Willy old boy. Not much here for me to play with," he commented with loud sigh. "Unless I put her out of her misery," he added dryly, nodding towards the female who was still sobbing to her boyfriend.

"That’s Lana," Willy supplied helpfully. "She’s got boyfriend troubles."

"You don’t say," Spike drawled with a total lack of interest.

"Yeah, it’s a sad story really," the bartender continued as he leaned forward conspiratorially, obviously warming to the subject.

"Yeah, well, I don’t care," the blond interrupted abruptly, effectively shutting the gossip monger up. Without a backward glance, Spike picked up his two bottles and walked back over to his seat.

On his way, he passed the weeping girl’s table and got a better look at the man sitting there. ‘No wonder she’s crying,’ Spike thought to himself, his own stomach churning at the sight of the man's hideously gnarled face. 'Ugly git.'

As if hearing his thoughts, the man suddenly looked up and stared straight back at the vampire, his eyes narrowing. Spike's steps faltered as a chill crept up his spine at the almost assessing look on the other demon's face. Before he could react, the man looked back at the girl and spoke to her softly. Sniffling, she nodded and as Spike sat down at his table, he saw them both stand up and leave the bar.

Spike stared after them for a moment trying to quell the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach since the man's appraisal. Closing his eyes, he brought the opened bottle to his lips and took a drink, hoping that the warmth of the alcohol would help calm his sudden nervous state.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Slayer's pet vampire," came a rumbling voice from in front of him.

Spike tensed then opened his eyes and slowly lowered the half empty bottle to the table, still loosely grasping its neck as he silently took in the three Monu demons surrounding him.

Pure power houses, they were of average height, with mottled brown/green scaly skins that were reminiscent of a lizard. Four taloned fingers graced each hand which Spike knew could slice through the toughest of surfaces without so much as scuffing a claw.

He quickly weighed up the odds of the situation and they didn’t look good. There was one Monu on either side of him and the third was standing on the other side of the table. With the wall at his back, Spike knew that any way of escape was effectively blocked and he welcomed the rush of adrenaline that began to flow through his borrowed blood at the knowledge.

This was just what he needed. A little physical pain to take away the mental.

"Didn't think her leash extended this far," the Monu in front of him goaded again, bringing the vampire’s gaze to his. Smiling cruelly he added, "Does she realise you’ve gone walkies alone?"

"Oh, for God’s sake, can’t you pillocks ever come up with something a little more creative than comparing me to a dog?" Spike asked in a bored tone as he slowly moved his right leg until his foot rested against the trunk of the table.

"What did you call me?" the demon asked, outraged.

"A pillock, you burke," the blond repeated derisively.

Not knowing what it meant but absolutely sure he’d been insulted, the Monu let out an angry roar and lunged at Spike.

As soon as he moved, the vampire used his foot to push the table hard towards the attacking demon. The edge caught it straight in the stomach causing him to double over in pain. At the same time, Spike rose to his feet and smashed the bottle he was holding against the wall then rammed the jagged remains into the neck of the Monu on his right.

The glass sliced through its jugular and the demon let out an anguished howl when blood spurted through his fingers as he grabbed ineffectually at his neck before falling dead to the floor.

The third demon grabbed Spike from behind, but the vampire jerked his head backwards delivering a blow to the Monu’s face that stunned him enough to release the blond.

Once free, Spike immediately spun around to look at the two demons. Game face on, his eyes glowed yellow as he let out a hard laugh suspending his guilt for a short while as he allowed his demon to take charge.

"Muzzle's off, Godzilla," he snarled, running his tongue over his fangs with relish before adding on a low growl, "Playtime".

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

The sounds of a fight filtered through the air vent into the alley by the side of Willy's bar momentarily distracting the man from his task at hand. Looking back down at the woman laying on the ground in front of him his distorted features twisted into a smile as he knelt down by her side.

"There, there," he crooned, gently moving his hand across her face and lowering the lids to cover the now lifeless opaque eyes of his victim. "All better now, Lana. No more pain."

He slowly unbuttoned her blouse then laid his right hand over her chest. A few moments later, a blue glow began to emanate from his hand and he threw his head back, letting out a scream of agony. Staring wide eyed at the night sky, blue lines crawled up the column of his neck and spread across his face, each one adding a new crevice, bump or wrinkle to his already deformed features.

The light from his hand dimmed and his head fell limply forward as he sat back on his heels, panting slightly. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and smiled in satisfaction as he rose to his feet.

He bent down and picked Lana up as though she weighed nothing then walked over to a nearby dumpster and threw her body in as carelessly as day old rubbish. Brushing himself down, he straightened his clothing then looked around him with a pleased smile. He was going to like it here.

Whistling a haunting melody, he strolled out of the alley then headed into town already thinking about his next victim. A blond man in black that he'd wager was a vampire.

END CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER 5

Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya walked out of the Bronze where the witches bade goodnight to the other couple then set off to their dorm, hand in hand. They had turned down Xander’s offer of a ride home saying they wanted to enjoy the cool night air and have a moonlight stroll.

As soon as they turned the corner, Willow turned to her girlfriend and gave her an apologetic smile. “You don’t mind walking, do you, sweetie?” she asked a little hesitantly.

“No, it’s fine,” she replied with a soft smile of her own.

Willow looked relieved. “Oh good, because was it just me or was Anya worse than usual tonight? I mean, has that bump on her head just finely tuned her apparently natural born ability to ignore convention and take rudeness to a whole new level or was it just the cocktails talking?”

Tara knew Willow and Anya had never got on very well and tonight had been especially trying for the redhead as Anya had attempted to find out what the two witches got up to in their bedroom.

“I’m gonna go with the cocktails,” Tara answered, chuckling at her lover’s consternation. "Although, if you want to be absolutely sure you could always give her another knock to the head and see if her affliction gets any worse."

Willow lost her annoyed look as the mental picture Tara's dry sense of humour had evoked caused a wide grin to spread across her face. "Oh Goddess, that is so tempting," she commented on a wistful sigh.

The witches shared another laugh and walked on in silence just absorbing the calm that surrounded them. It was rare that the Hellmouth allowed such a respite and the lovers wanted to enjoy every bit they could get.

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

Spike stumbled and leaned heavily against the alley wall for support, pressing his hand to his side to try and ease the pain. The Monu demons had fought well and the vampire now sported three deep gashes down his left side where the leader had managed to get a clawed hand to him.

That was the last thing the demon had done though as, seconds later, anger drawn from the stinging lacerations had sent adrenaline surging through Spike's body like a tidal wave. With a murderous roar, he had caught the leader roughly in a headlock then viciously snapped his neck and watched the body fall to the ground in grinning satisfaction.

He'd immediately turned to the remaining Monu who, obviously not liking his chances, had beat a hasty retreat.

Knowing he wasn't in any condition to fight should the Monu come back with some more of his friends, Spike had then grabbed his unopened bottle of booze and left the bar.

Twenty minutes and two thirds of a bottle later, the effects of the wound and the alcohol were starting to take their toll. The gashes were already beginning to heal but he needed blood badly and the nearest source was in his crypt.

Turning slightly so that his back now rested against the wall, the vampire had every intention of moving on, but his legs had other ideas as they gave out completely and he found himself in an undignified heap on the littered ground.

"Bollocks," he muttered as he raised the bottle to his mouth and yanked out the stopper with his teeth then spat it out across the alleyway. He greedily drank the remaining contents then dropped his arm, the bottle clanging loudly as it hit the concrete.

As the noise echoed around the alley, Spike let his head drop back against the wall and wished fervently for another bottle, knowing that what he'd already consumed wasn't going to be enough to blot out his mind tonight.

Closing his eyes, he released the bottle and raised his hand, running it tiredly over his face. He needed to get to his crypt. Now.

Wincing, he forced himself up and started walking again not sensing the man that followed silently behind, staying deep in the shadows.

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

The witches approached the end of the road they were walking along and Tara was surprised when, instead of turning right to head back to their dorm, Willow came to a stop and glanced left.

"I think we should go check up on Buffy. Make sure she's OK," the redhead explained. "You know, being that she didn't make it to the Bronze tonight. I mean anything could've happened on patrol."

"And…?" Tara prompted, noticing that her girlfriend couldn't quite look at her.

"A…And, what?" the redhead asked, trying to act nonchalant as she glanced at Tara then looked away.

"And you want to talk to her about Spike, don't you?" the fair-haired girl supplied intuitively.

"No!" Willow exclaimed, striving for vehemence. At Tara's knowing grin, the witch sighed. "Yeah, OK, maybe just a little."

"I thought we agreed that we wouldn't interfere, sweetie?" Tara reminded her quietly. "We have no real idea what feelings, if any, Buffy has for Spike."

"I know, but it wouldn't be interfering. Really," she insisted at Tara's doubtful look. "I just think Buffy could use a couple of friends to talk to in case she wants to…talk…you know…about…someone.” The redhead visibly brightened. “Plus, Dawn's staying over at one of her friend's tonight and with Xander not around to make any stupid comments it'd be perfect."

"You've had this planned the whole evening, haven’t you?" Tara accused lightly.

“Actually, it was the last couple of days,” the redhead admitted sheepishly.

Tara couldn’t help but laugh and tightened her grip on her lovers hand. “OK, let’s go and see if Buffy wants to talk about someone.”

Willow grinned and the couple walked off in the opposite direction of their dorm.

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

The man could almost taste the emotional pain that the vampire slowly walking in front of him was emitting. It came off the blond in waves and each one that rolled over him just made his craving increase.

Lana’s essence would see him through for a couple of days but the vampire’s would sustain him for weeks, he just knew it.

Another wave hit his senses completely obliterating any plans he had to wait a while before making his move. The blond was weak and vulnerable – just perfect.

Increasing his speed, he drew ever closer to Spike and then, suddenly, he froze. Raising his head a little he tested the air and recoiled at what he felt.

Warmth. Friendship. Love. Human.

His face twisted into as much of a disgusted expression as the ravaged countenance would allow and immediately turned away.

Now was not the time, but he could wait.

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

As he reached the end of the alley, Spike’s step faltered slightly when he heard a noise behind him. Thinking that it had to be someone following him and, realising he was at a disadvantage, he decided his best option was to run. His wound, however, protested vigorously at the mere thought of such an exertion and so he went for the only other option he could think of – confrontation.

Praying that it wasn’t the Monu back with some friends, he turned abruptly. Hooking a thumb in the waistband of his jeans, he raised his chin defiantly and assumed a cocky stance, ignoring the pain that lanced through him at the action.

“Right then,” he began, then paused, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the alleyway.

It was empty. Or so it appeared.

Automatically, he strained his heightened senses trying to catch the slightest hint of…anything…that could give him an idea of what had caused the noise. He could feel something but it seemed to stay just on the outer edges of his awareness, like a cobra waiting to strike.

“Look, I know you’re there, so why don’t you just show yourself and we can get this little show on the road, eh?” he called out, his tone impassive.

Body tensed, his eyes darted from one side of the alley to the other trying to gauge from which of the many shadows zigzagging across the passageway an attack might come.

Inexplicably, a cold dread began to edge its way up his spine and he suddenly decided that retreat was probably the wisest way to go after all – wound or no wound.

“Well, since you’re too coward to face me, I’ll be on my merry way then,” he goaded, the demon in him unable to resist a last taunt. "Things to see, people to eat."

Still keeping a lookout, the vampire took a step backwards and then another. One more then he unexpectedly felt a hand grab his right forearm. Pure instinct had him swing around and grasp the hand, twisting it sharply up behind the creature’s back.

Belatedly, he heard someone call his name and realised that he’d made a mistake. A shriek of pain echoed around the street swiftly followed by blinding pain to his brain. Crying out, he immediately released his hold and clutched at his head before sinking to his knees in agony.

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

The man watched the fallen vampire from his vantage point in the shadows wondering what had happened to make him crumble so suddenly.

His gaze fell upon the two human females who where looking down at the blond and his eyebrows rose as he become conscious of the power that surged between them.

"Witches," he breathed unhappily. They had evidently incapacitated the vampire and would no doubt kill him now. 'What a waste,' he thought to himself in dismay. He'd had such high hopes for the creature. With a soft sigh, he turned and silently walked away, mentally bemoaning his luck at not having made his move a few minutes earlier.

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

Willow and Tara stared down at the stricken vampire sympathetically. They knew there was nothing they could do to help him when the chip kicked in so they waited. When the worst of the pain seemed to have passed, Willow crouched down beside the blond and smiled gently.

Spike immediately raised his head and stared at her, trying to get his eyes to focus once more.

"You OK now?" she asked.

"It's me that should be asking that question, Red," he replied gruffly when the pain in his head had subsided to a dull enough throb that allowed him to speak. "Didn't realise it was you. Sorry."

"Oh, don't worry," she assured him brightly as she gingerly moved her arm. "It's just a little numb, but once the blood starts circulating again it'll be good as new."

At the word 'blood', Spike's eyes instantly dropped down to her neck and he involuntarily licked his lips. His need for food was rapidly overwhelming him and he saw the ticking of her pulse increase as she realised what he was staring at and pulled back slightly. Though he knew it was wrong, he couldn't help but feel a little pleased he could still provoke a small amount of fear within people, even in his neutered state.

Mouth watering, he could almost taste the warm, coppery goodness going down and used every ounce of his willpower to force back his inner demon. Tearing his gaze away from her neck, he stood jerkily then distanced himself slightly, looking everywhere but at the witches directly.

"Gotta go," he mumbled, turning away.

"But Spike, you're hurt," came Tara's concerned voice having caught a glimpse of his injury.

"It's nothing, just a scratch," he dismissed as he began walking away. "Be right as rain as soon I as reach my crypt and get some blood in me."

He stumbled a little and the two witches shared a concerned glance before rushing forward and standing either side of vampire, each grabbing an arm to steady him.

Spike tensed readying himself to shake them off, but Tara stopped him cold when she softly said, "Let us help you, Spike. We know you’ll heal well enough on your own but a little bit of antiseptic and gauze won’t hurt. It's what we’d do for any friend of ours if they were hurt."

Stunned at her words, he gazed into her gentle eyes searching out the truth. "Friend?" he repeated softly.

"Well, yeah. After the way you've helped Buffy, Dawn, me and the rest of the gang recently, I think I can safely say that we are friends, aren't we?"

The vampire didn't know what to say. Although the witches had visited him recently, he'd assumed that it was merely to check up on the wounds he'd sustained during the battle with Glory. The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind that they were coming to see him because they actually wanted to.

Could it be true? Did she consider him, an evil vampire, as her friend?

With a jolt, he saw the sincerity shining back from the azure depths and realised that she did mean it. Incredulously, he turned to Willow and saw the same honesty reflected in her own gaze.

Swallowing hard, he fought back the emotion that suddenly threatened to choke him. 'Too much drink and not enough blood', he told himself, trying to justify what he considered was a pathetic reaction to their offer of acceptance. Because that's what it was, a little bit of acceptance in the world he was desperately trying to avoid.

And despite his promise to himself, he grabbed the opportunity with both hands. His body relaxed and he finally nodded his acquiescence - to letting them help him and to silently admitting that he was their friend too.

The trio walked to Spike's crypt as quickly as the vampire could manage. Once inside, they soon had him sitting on the top of a sarcophagus in the corner.

While Tara brought over the meagre first aid supplies, Spike had scrounged from various places, Willow grabbed a couple of bags of blood from his fridge and watched as he devoured them within seconds.

"More?" she asked.

Spike felt the pig's blood flow through his body, slowly restoring his strength. "No," he replied, then paused and added hesitantly, "thanks."

Willow smiled in response then helped him out of his duster and T-shirt. "Seems like we've been here before," she commented wryly.

Spike smiled then looked down in concern when both women suddenly gasped as the severity of the wound was revealed to their eyes.

“Oh Goddess,” Tara breathed, staring at the jagged gashes that marred his pale skin as she began to clean them. “It looks bad. What happened?”

“Had a little tussle with a Monu demon at Willy's place,” he told them with a careless shrug. “Could’ve been worse, their claws pretty much go through anything. If I hadn’t dodged in time, he would’ve sliced me in two. Won’t be slicing anything from now on though. Snapped his neck good and proper.”

“Good. I wouldn’t have fancied meeting him on a dark night,” said Willow reaching out and giving the longest tear a gentle prod to see if it was still weeping.

“Ow! I said it wasn’t that bad, not that it didn’t bloody hurt!” he exclaimed, jerking away from her hand.

“Sorry,” the redhead offered contritely, dabbing at where a little blood escaped from the wound.

“Yeah, well, don’t give up the day job, Red,” he grumbled with a scowl. “Florence bleedin’ Nightingale, you ain’t and I should know, I met her once.”

“You met Florence Nightingale?” Willow queried in disbelief.

“Course.” At the redhead’s sceptical look, Spike added, “Look, where there’s nurses, there’s blood, right? And where there’s blood…”

“Ugh, please don’t say anything more,” she pleaded in disgust. “Next you’ll be telling me you met Jack the Ripper or something.”

“Actually, I did,” he informed her seriously as she stared at him mouth agape. “Not my cup of tea. All that slicing and dicing; total waste of perfectly good blood. Didn’t do to have him around spoiling the hunt, so…” Spike raised his hand and made a slashing motion across his throat.

Both Wicca’s had stopped their ministrations and were looking at him aghast.

“You mean, you’re the reason that the killings stopped and…and why the Ripper was never caught?” Willow asked in amazement.

Spike couldn’t hold back the chuckle any longer. “No pet, but seeing the look on both your faces makes me really wish I was. Even the Bit didn't fall for that one.”

The women tutted and muttered about the shortcomings of men to each other as they resumed their task.

The vampire chuckled again then fell silent as he thought back to the time when he had regaled Dawn with tales from his past. It had been one of the few pleasant times he could remember that hadn't involved the death of someone at the end of it. He missed the closeness. And her.

The guilt he'd been successfully keeping at bay since his fight returned to settle heavily on his shoulders once more. Fearing he was dangerously close to brooding, Spike voiced a question that he knew would ultimately bring the conversation around to a subject that had been bothering him since he’d declined Buffy’s invite earlier that evening. "So, did you and the rest of the gang enjoy yourselves at the Bronze tonight?"

The witches glanced at each other, knowing full well that the 'rest of the gang' he spoke about was Buffy.

"Yeah, it was the usual," Willow replied casually. "You know, drinking, dancing, more drinking, more dancing."

"Dancing, eh?" Spike snorted, feeling a pang of jealousy around his unbeating heart as he once again conjured up the image of Buffy and a faceless man bumping and grinding against each other to a heavy beat. "The Slayer enjoy herself, did she?”

‘No doubt picked herself out some pathetic twat to toy with for a couple of hours before walking away and leaving the poor git so hard he wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days,’ he added bitterly to himself.

“Buffy didn’t turn up,” Tara replied nonchalantly as she began to wrap a tatty bandage around his middle.

"She didn't go?" he questioned with a frown. She'd seemed so keen when she'd asked him along that he was surprised but, if he were honest, not a little relieved that his imaginings hadn't come to fruition.

“No. We were on our way to her house to see if she was OK, when we saw you,” Willow supplied as she taped up the end of the bandage and gave it a gentle tap as if to say, 'You're done'. "I'm assuming that since you haven't mentioned anything, she didn’t get hurt on patrol?”

“No, she was fine when I last saw her,” he replied, not admitting to the fact that he’d followed her to her door for fear that they’d think he’d started stalking her again.

Running his hand over the bandage, he gave them a smile of gratitude then pushed himself off the sarcophagus and landed lightly on the floor. Reaching for his ruined t-shirt, he roughly pulled it on and added jokingly, “Course, I could be lying and have her tied up downstairs, half drained, just waiting for you two to go so I can finish her off…”

His words trailed off when he saw them glance worriedly over at the hole in the middle of the crypt and felt his good humour give way to annoyance. “Oh for God’s sake, she’s not really there, OK?” he snapped irately.

“Oh! I know,” Willow hurriedly assured the vampire as she felt a telltale flush of warmth on her cheeks. “You mentioned the hole and I kinda just, automatically looked over at it.”

“Me too,” Tara concurred, her face also carrying a slight reddish hue.

Spike stared at them for a moment and couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that they’d believed him. They could deny it, but from their faces he knew that for one split second, they were actually worried that he really did have Buffy tied up downstairs. And because of that split second, he also now knew that they’d never, ever trust him completely. And they knew it too.

There was an uncomfortable silence then Spike gestured over to his fridge. “I would offer you a drink but all I have is blood,” he said coolly.

“No, that’s fine, we’d better be going anyway,” Willow decided, nodding towards the door.

Spike nodded and headed over to the door then was surprised when Tara invited hopefully, “If…if you want to join us at the Bronze one night, you’re more than welcome, you know.”

Fingers grasping the door handle, the vampire kept his back to them and bowed his head as he quietly replied, “Thanks pet, but I don’t think so. I’m a demon, remember? I belong in that world, not yours.”

“But that’s nonsense,” she replied, looking to Willow for support.

“Absolutely,” the redhead concurred.

Spike let out a derisive chuckle and raised his head to stare at the door. “Two weeks ago, I would’ve agreed with you but after I let Doc beat me, that’s when I realised.”

“Realised what?” Tara prodded when he fell silent.

The vampire let out a heavy sigh. “Realised that everything you Scoobies had ever said about me…to me, was true…”

“What?!” Willow exclaimed in surprise, effectively cutting him off. Then the slight tremor she’d heard in his voice registered and she moved closer determined to contest his words and offer consolation. “Spike, I’m sorry. I wish I could take back what I’ve said over the years but I can’t. All I can say is that I know you’re not the same vampire you were back then. You’ve changed. For the better. And…and you didn't let Doc beat you. Dawnie was there. She told us everything. You did what you could…”

“Wasn’t good enough though, was it?” he interrupted bitterly. “Just like me.”

“But, Spike…” the witch tried again, not sure how to get through to him.

“No, Red. As much as I wish there was, there’s nothing you can say that will change what happened that day,” he insisted. “I failed.”

The last was said so quietly, Willow and Tara had trouble hearing it but, when the words finally registered, the redhead immediately refuted them. “That’s not true,” she told him forcefully, horrified that he thought like that.

“No?” he challenged, finally raising his head to look at her, the look of abject misery on his face shocking the witch. “I think there’s a four inch slit in Dawn’s stomach that proves you wrong!”

“Spike,” Willow tried to mollify as she reached out and touched his arm in an effort to ease his self-inflicted suffering.

The vampire savagely jerked away then yanked the door open and stepped back. "Thanks for cleaning me up tonight, Red," he said tautly, then turned to Tara and nodded. "Glinda. Best not hold you up any longer."

The women hesitated but the vampire’s face told them that he had nothing more to say on the subject. Knowing from Buffy’s experience’s with him that he could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted, they bade him goodnight then walked out of the crypt.

Spike stood with the door open for a few moments, listening to their footsteps fade away. When they were almost out of hearing range, he grabbed his duster, put it on then made his way out into the night after them.

Keeping a lengthy distance between them, he followed them to Buffy’s house where, judging by her rumpled appearance, they had awoken a heavily sleeping Slayer. The witches spoke to her briefly on the doorstep before heading back to their dorm.

Once he knew they were safely inside, he walked into town. Using his game face, he acquired some cigarettes and alcohol from a nearby store then headed back to his crypt. It took a good three bottles before oblivion finally claimed him.

END CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

Buffy awoke late and, recalling the brief conversation she’d had with Willow and Tara the night before, she spent the day cleaning the house for when the gang came over that night. They had a suggested a pizza and movie evening and she’d agreed thinking that it’d give her the opportunity to tell the gang about her feelings for Spike.

The day passed quickly and soon the gang were seated in her lounge tucking into three large pizza’s.

Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Tara and Anya stared in fascination as Xander's face turned from a bright red to a deathly pale and back to red in the matter of seconds.

"Man, that chilli was hot!" the brunet exclaimed as he grabbed a glass of water and downed its contents in two gulps. "I’ve gotta have another one of those!" he said, grabbing another slice of the hot pizza.

"Chilli’s don’t affect sexual performance, do they?" Anya asked the others worriedly as she watched her fiancé pop another fiery pepper into his mouth. "I can’t have Xander broken, it’s a very important night, tonight."

"Really? Why?" asked Dawn chewing on a piece of Hawaiian.

Anya looked over at Xander and he smiled back tenderly, giving an almost imperceptible nod.

"Xander and I are engaged!" she told them all in a delighted rush. When the other simple stared back at her in stunned disbelief, she held up her bejewelled hand and added, "You can congratulate us now."

Almost immediately Dawn gave a little shriek then ran over and hugged both Xander and Anya excitedly, asking if she could be a bridesmaid.

Buffy, Willow and Tara gave their congratulations in a more subdued but no less enthusiastic way. At their request, Xander told them when and how he proposed and the couple were lightly chastised for keeping it quiet for so long. Anya then told the gang that they would be setting the wedding date for a few months time and the next hour was spent finishing off the pizza and trying to dissuade the ex-demon from choosing lime green as the colour for the bridesmaids dresses.

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

Spike paced restlessly around his crypt like a caged animal waiting for the waning sun to set. Normally when he wanted to venture out during the day, he used the sewers but they didn’t run in the direction he wanted to go tonight and so he was stuck.

When he'd awoken an hour before, three things had hit him at once. A blinding headache from his hangover, pain from his side and the embarrassing fact that he'd blabbed his misery out to the witches the night before.

How could he have just told them everything like that? He must have drunk more than he realised. That or they'd put a spell on him so that he’d act like a brooding nit.

He paused for a moment considering the notion then shook his head dismissively as he moved again. Deep down, he knew he'd made the admission because he wanted to. He could blame it on the drink and the pain and even a spell, and more than likely he would when it was inevitably brought up again. But in reality, the thing that had brought his words forth was the simple fact that they’d said they were his friends.

Could he be anymore pathetic?

And now, to add to his mortification, all the bloody Scoobies were going to know about it for he was under no illusion that the lovers wouldn’t keep his little revelation to themselves.

Trouble was, the Bit would probably be upset and he felt a pang of regret for causing her more pain. The witches had said they were sorry and for all he’d resisted, he couldn’t help but believe them. He suspected that the demon bird wouldn’t care less while the whelp would be rubbing his hands together in glee that the Big Bad had finally seen the light…in a manner of speaking.

And as for Buffy…well, he imagined that for all her tolerance of him lately, she would be agreeing with the boy. She might a token denial for the Bit’s sake, but he knew he’d never be more to her than a monster. He also knew that he couldn’t face her tonight, either.

The last dying embers of the day faded away and he grabbed his duster, hurrying to the crypt door. Flinging it open, he stepped out into the darkening evening and looked around cautiously. Knowing he was alone, he set off across the cemetery determined to be safely ensconced in a discreet bar he knew over the side of town long before Buffy even thought about leaving her house that night.

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

The H’Numkrig demon flopped down onto a stool by the bar and ordered a beer. Willy handed him a bottle and watched as he took a swig then stared morosely at his drink.

"Problems, Saul?" Willy asked, flinging a bar towel over his shoulder and staring at his friend sympathetically.

"The usual," Saul replied with a shrug. "Demon meets human. Demon loves human. Human hates demon."

"Yeah, I hear that a lot around here lately," the bartender replied dryly. "Lana was in here yesterday. Said almost the same as you. Must have something to do with this place being on a Hellmouth or something."

Saul nodded then took another drink before saying, "I just don’t get it, you know? I mean I’m a good looking guy, right? Snappy dresser?"

Willy stared at his friend's brown, mottled skin and orange eyes in contemplation. Short horns sprouted from each side of his bald head just above his pointed ears and his attire consisted of a bright yellow shirt and green combats. "Yeah, yeah, you look great," Willy finally assured him with a smile.

"Yeah," Saul asserted half-heartedly as he drained his bottle and requested another. Willy handed one over then left him alone to serve someone else.

Taking his beer, Saul got off the stool and sat down at one of the tables. Lost in thought about his unrequited love, it took him a couple of moments to realise that someone had sat down opposite him. Coming out of his daze, he looked up to see a hideous looking man staring back at him.

"Good evening," the man said, softly.

"Who are you?" Saul asked with a puzzled frown.

"My name is, Fen," the stranger replied, his head tilting to the side consideringly. "You seemed a little…sad and I thought you might like to talk."

Saul’s immediate reaction was to tell him to get lost but the words wouldn’t come out and instead he found himself nodding.

Fen grinned in approval knowing he’d already found his next victim.

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

Spike got halfway across the graveyard then stopped. There was no way he couldn't be there waiting for Buffy if she turned up. Even if he had to sit through a humiliating lecture reaffirming all his faults, it was still better than knowingly leaving her to patrol alone.

Cursing the day he ever came back to Sunnydale, he turned around and headed slowly back to his crypt.

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

"Shall I put the movie on now?" asked Dawn, holding up a copy of Con Air.

There was a chorus of approval from the gang but Buffy glanced at her watch and let out a sigh. "Sorry guys, but I’ve got to go on patrol," she reminded them, deciding not to spoil the evening for the happy couple by mentioning Spike.

Xander, however, had other ideas.

"Captain Peroxide helping you out tonight, as usual?" the brunet queried mildly.

"If I ask him too, yeah," Buffy replied stiffly.

Xander nodded then sighed heavily. "And I’m guessing you will, right?"

"Xander," Willow cautioned in a warning tone.

"No Will, that’s OK," Buffy interjected quietly. She turned back to the brunet and calmly replied, "Yes, Xander, I will ask Spike to help me. He’s…"

"You like him, don’t you?" he suddenly demanded, interrupting her.

Buffy stared at him in surprise not knowing what to say. She hadn’t expected Xander to be so direct. Looking around the room, she found all eyes on her. Xander seemed as shocked as she that he’d voiced the question in the first place, her sister looked hopeful, the witches expectant and Anya appeared mildly curious.

"You know, a couple of months ago, the standard Buffy reply to that question would’ve been a look of revulsion, swiftly followed by a very prolonged, ‘Ewwww’ and a few choice phrases that included the words, ‘evil’, ‘soulless’ and ‘monster’," Xander commented, drawing Buffy’s eyes back to him.

Expecting to see him looking back at her with anger and disappointment, Xander surprised her again by sporting a small smile instead. "But like I said, that was a couple of months ago, right?" he reiterated slowly.

"I guess it was," she admitted with a tentative smile of her own.

"I knew it!" Willow suddenly exclaimed in triumph. "I knew you liked him."

"Me too!" Dawn exclaimed with a grin.

"You did?" Buffy asked, her smile widening as she felt a rush of relief go through her. Could it be that she'd underestimated her friends?

"Well, duh!" her sister replied, rolling her eyes. "The way you ran down those tower steps to go find him was kind of a give away. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move so fast. Not even when you tried to catch me after you walked in on me in your bedroom borrowing your favourite blue sweater."

Buffy grinned at the memory then looked around at her friends. "So I take it you all don’t mind that I have…feelings…for Spike?" the Slayer asked, still half expecting an argument.

Dawn snorted and folded her arms. "I don't, but then again I told you he was hot ages ago," she reminded her sister impatiently. "About time you finally listened to me."

"Yeah, well, hot or not; ages ago Spike was more evil than he is now," Buffy responded dryly.

"That he was," Xander agreed with a grimace. "And, just for the record, I’m not saying that I don’t mind that you’ve got another yen for the undead," he added. "I still think it’s a whole world of wrong. In fact, when Willow brought the possibility to my attention the other week, I took a long trip to denial land and when I eventually got back and unpacked, I sat down and had a good long think about all the reasons why I should stake him once and for all. And there were quite a few, let me tell you," he asserted with a wry chuckle.

"Xander…" the redhead began reproachfully seeing how Buffy's face had dropped, but the brunet held up his hand to let her know he hadn’t quite finished.

Leaning forward in his seat, he clasped his hands together and rested his arms on his legs. Letting out a heavy sigh, he continued quietly, "You know, even though I don't have any fancy powers, I do still have my eyes and I use them well. I probably see more than any of you realise and when I finally got past the fact that Spike's a vampire, I started to remember other things he'd done. The beating he took for Dawn, how he helped when we had to run from Glory, how he was willing to go back to Glory's apartment even though that's where he'd been horribly tortured and that's when I realised something."

He paused and looked around at the rest of the gang, noticing that they all seemed to be waiting for him to say something bad. "He's changed," he said simply. "He's gone against everything he is and, even though I don’t particularly like him, I can't help but have a just little piece of respect for the guy." He looked at Buffy then and smiled. "He's earned it."

Buffy blinked back tears and gave her friend a tremulous smile. "Thanks, Xan. It means a lot to me that I don't have to fight you on this."

"Yeah, well, you still might have to, every now and then," he admitted with a rueful grin. "Not sure I can handle seeing anything undead hands on for a while yet."

The Slayer gave a derisive snort. "Well, considering how Spike's been acting lately, I don't think you have to worry about that anytime soon."

"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.

Buffy stood up and faced her friends. "Oh come on, has anyone here seen him around lately?"

"Not me," Xander confirmed with a shake of his head.

"I haven't seen him since we went to his crypt," Dawn offered unhappily.

"He hasn't been to the shop either," Anya informed them brightly. "I haven't had anything go missing from my stock for the last two weeks."

Everyone turned to the witches who looked at each other uncomfortably before Willow quietly admitted, "We have been to check up on him a couple of times."

"You have? He never said," the Slayer commented, taken aback. She sighed and began to pace the room in agitation almost talking to herself. "Then again, I don't know why I'm so surprised, I mean when we patrol the only time he opens his mouth is to tell me what I've just killed. Then, every time I ask him if he wants to come in for a hot drink, he refuses and goes to Willy's on the pretext of getting information."

She stopped in the middle of the room and stared at her friends in confused sadness. "It's like he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Oh, it's not just you," Willow exclaimed then looked horrified at how her attempt at comfort had sounded. "I mean…it's not you at all…it's him. He's decided that as he's a demon, he should stay in the demon world."

"Been telling Fangboy that for years," Xander interjected dryly. All the women turned annoyed glares on him and he held up his hands submissively. "Hey, just saying that Mr. Chip has a point."

Ignoring him, Buffy turned back to Willow. "After all these years, why would he think that now?" she asked, clearly baffled.

The two witches looked at each other again and then they both began to explain to the gang what had happened the previous night.

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

Spike settled himself in his chair and switched on the television. It was nearing the time that Buffy usually arrived and he wanted to appear as nonchalant as possible. He'd decided that he'd go with being too drunk to remember anything and flat out denial should she try and force the issue.

He might not have much pride left, but he was damn well determined to hold onto what remained.

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

Buffy listened to Willow and Tara in shock. How could she have possibly missed the fact that Spike's current actions were due to guilt over what had happened to Dawn? The crucial moment had taken place in front of very eyes and she'd totally discarded it like day old rubbish. Closing her eyes in disbelief, she realised that she'd once again taken it for granted that, as a vampire, Spike didn't possess feelings. When the hell was she ever going to learn?

Hearing a sniffling sound, Buffy opened her eyes and looked over at her sister. Seeing the distress on the younger girl's tearful face, she went over to offer comfort in the best way she knew how, a big sisterly hug.

As the witches continued talking, telling them how Spike believed every awful word they'd ever said about him, Buffy realised that Dawn's plight had just been the catalyst for all the other damaging things that had occurred over the years. Looking at her two oldest friends' faces, she saw the same awful guilt she knew must be marring her own features.

They, too, realised that they were in some way responsible for the vampires withdrawal, although she was aware that she shouldered the majority of the blame. She had said the most despicable things to him in the past and had enjoyed his hurt expressions, regarding them as some kind of trophy. The more devastated he looked, the bigger the prize.

By the time Willow and Tara had finished their account however, Buffy's feelings of guilt began to change to ones of anger. Ok, so she'd said things in the past but so had he and hadn't she been trying hard to be nice ever since she realised her feelings? Fat lot of good it did her. And who the hell was he to decide he wasn't good enough for her when she'd finally come to the conclusion that he was? Yeah, she could understand him being upset over Dawn, but to take himself out of her world because of it?

Mouth tightening grimly, she shook her head in annoyance. "Stupid, over dramatic, pain in the ass," she muttered irately.

"Where are you going?" Dawn asked as Buffy abruptly released her then stood and walked over to the staircase.

"Patrol," the Slayer replied curtly. "And to see if I can’t talk some sense into a stupid vampire."

"I don’t think he’ll listen," Willow warned, standing up and hurrying after her friend. She'd seen the play of emotions on Buffy's face and knew the current look meant trouble. "He pretty much chucked Tara and I out of his crypt last night when we tried."

Buffy stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to the redhead. "I’ll have to be a bit more persuasive then, won’t I?" she told her meaningfully. Grabbing her coat off the banister, she put it on then went over to the weapons chest.

"But just think about it a minute, Buffy" Willow entreated, following the Slayer across the room. "You've seen Spike pretty much every night for the last two weeks and you said yourself that he's been holding back. If you go there tonight all punchy and accusing, you might make him withdraw even further."

The Slayer paused as she bent down to retrieve two stakes from the wooden box she'd just opened. Willow had a point and as much as she wanted to try and sort things out with the vampire, she realised that if she rushed in fists first, she could make matters worse. Straightening up, she closed the chest and turned to her friend with a sigh.

"You're right, Will," she conceded grudgingly then raised her arms in a helpless gesture as she added, "But I don't know what else to do."

The redhead looked relieved and gave the Slayer a huge grin. "Don't worry, I have a plan."

Xander groaned loudly. "Your plans are about as good as your magic."

"I resent that," Willow said throwing him a hurt expression. "I haven't messed things up in months."

"Well, you're about due then," he retorted, then looked at Buffy. "I say go with the punching and accusing."

"Xander!" Willow exclaimed in exasperation.

"Hey, just my opinion," he said, innocently.

Willow turned back to the silent Slayer and looked at her expectantly. "Well? What do you say?"

Buffy eyed her dubiously. "What kind of plan?"

"One that involves secrecy and deception," the witch replied, her eyes narrowing slyly before widening again as she added eagerly, "Oh!…And the need to find you the perfect outfit."

"New clothes?" the Slayer replied, seemingly pondering the suggestion before letting a small smile cross her lips. "Sounds like my kind of plan."

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

Fen watched in delight as Saul plunged the knife deep into his own heart and fell to the cemetery's ground in agony. Luring Saul to the graveyard had been too easy and although he gained sustenance from the lesser demons such as the H'Numkrig, it wasn't anything that lasted very long.

A pained gurgle brought Fen out of his reverie to see black inky blood escaping from the mortal wound and saturating Saul's yellow shirt.

Fen moved swiftly over to him and he placed his hand on the dying demon's chest, just below the knife. "Don't want to waste any, do we?" he said brightly. The blue glow started almost immediately and the blood stopped spreading. Concentrating harder, his hand acted like a sponge soaking up water and he watched in satisfaction the fluid began receding back on itself and up into his palm, feeding him.

Saul let out an agonised cry as he felt his life-force slip away. His eyes dimmed and his last thought was that his killer suddenly appeared to be even more uglier than before.

END CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7 - Pretence

Buffy made her way through the cemetery at a steady pace. Phase one of Willow's plan was simple. All she had to do was to act like she didn't know about Spike's little confession.

"Because if he knows you know then phase two won’t work because he’ll be all knowing and holding back and if phase two fails, then phase three is going to be pretty hard to achieve," the redhead had explained.

"How many phases are there?" Buffy had asked with a sense of foreboding.

"If all goes well, just the three," Willow had replied with a grin then leaned towards her friend conspiratorially. "Three being smoochies and stuff."

At that, Xander had protested loudly, complaining about unwelcome mental images and Buffy had grabbed a couple of stakes determined to begin the first phase as soon as possible. Her head still spinning from what she'd learnt though, the nearer she got to his crypt the more she wondered if it was going to be easier said than done. Especially as her emotions were continually swinging from guilt to pity to anger to tenderness and back again.

In the distance she saw his crypt and increased her speed, still unsure whether she was going to hug him or hit him when they finally came face to face. Reaching the door, she lifted her leg and kicked it inwards with more force than usual, hoping that it would somewhat reduce the ire that was bubbling just below the surface of her outward calm.

It didn’t.

The door swung open and hit the wall with a satisfyingly loud crash that echoed around the tomb. Letting her eyes adjust to the candlelit interior, she saw that the crypt’s undead occupant was seated on the chair in front of the television apparently watching one of his dreadful soaps.

"Decided to turn up have you?" he drawled casually, keeping his eyes firmly on the set. "Didn't think you were going to bother."

Hit him.

Her anger rose a notch as she challenged, "Why would you think that?"

There was a moment’s silence then, "Later than usual. Thought you might have decided to try and get that much needed beauty sleep you're always harping on about."

Oh yeah, hit him real hard!

Annoyed that he still hadn’t visually acknowledged her presence, she walked over and turned off the TV.

"Oy, I was watching that!" he objected irately.

"And now you're not," she snapped as she straightened and turned to look at him, arms folded. The sulky expression on his averted face impressed her, she doubted that even she could thrust her bottom lip out as much as that. Silent seconds ticked by then, unable to resist any longer, Spike slowly raised his eyes to meet hers.

As soon as their gazes locked, Buffy felt her anger ebb away and a wave of tenderness crash through her body. He looked like a condemned man who'd received a partially frozen TV dinner for his last meal when he’d ordered steak.

Briefly, she wondered what he expected her do with the information she was pretending she didn't know. Yell at him? Hit him? Laugh at him? Agree with him? Probably all of the above, she decided wryly.

Maybe a hug after all…

"You know, now that I've got a good look at you, luv," he started then paused and tilted his head running his gaze over her face consideringly, "Maybe you should rethink the beauty sleep thing."

Ok, back to the hitting again.

Her mouth tightened grimly and she was about to grind out a scathing retort when it suddenly hit her what he was doing. Reining in her temper, she mentally counted to ten. She could do this. Spike was always at his snarkiest when he was on the defensive…she just had to rise above it…and she would…just as soon as she'd watched him squirm a little bit.

With that thought in mind, she forced herself to relax and smile. "Well, well, well, someone got up on the wrong side of his coffin this evening," she teased lightly as she let her arms drop to her sides. "Sorry if I'm cutting into your drinking time at Willy's, but I'm only running late because gang came over tonight and we got chatting." She paused, lightly pursed her lips and took a step towards him. "Willow and Tara, especially, had lots to say."

Spike stiffened slightly at her words. Hell, she was going straight for the jugular! Briefly, worry flared in his eyes, but he quickly veiled it and raised his chin almost defiantly as he strived to coolly reply, "That right?"

"Yeah, and what I want to know is…"another step…"were you actually going to tell me or were you just going to patrol like nothing happened?" She said the last in a loud, accusing voice and the vampire shifted uncomfortably in seat.

‘Here it comes’ he thought in resignation. "Tell you what?" he hedged, unwilling to hear the diatribe he had no doubt was about to be made.

She pointed at his stomach and took another step coming to a halt right in front of him. "That you got hurt last night," she explained in a tone that said he should know what she’s talking about.

Spike blinked then frowned slightly. "Hurt?" he repeated slowly and then she saw the realisation dawn and a look of relief briefly cross his features before he added, "Oh, that." His hand automatically went to his left side and he shrugged. "It’s nothing. Pretty much healed."

"Can I see?"

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Concerned for me, pet? I’m touched."

"Willow and Tara asked me to check," Buffy dismissed dryly. "Plus, I just want to make sure you’re not going to slow me up out there, that’s all."

"Oh well, seeing as Red and Glinda asked," Spike snorted sarcastically to cover up the fact that her uncaring attitude had upset him. He stood abruptly and let his duster slide down his arms to lie on the chair then yanked up the hem of his t-shirt exposing his sculpted torso for her perusal. Adopting a long-suffering look, he declared, "There you are then, Slayer, how does it look?"

‘Pretty. Damn. Fine,’ her mind immediately replied as she ran her hungry gaze over his well-defined chest and stomach. Her eyes landed on his wound and of its own volition, her hand reached out and gently skimmed down the still red lines that marred his otherwise perfect skin. Fascinated by the feel of his body and the play of his taut muscles beneath her touch, it took her a few moments to comprehend what she was actually doing. When she did, she snatched her hand away and looked up at him, wide eyed.

He stared back at her blankly, apparently unaffected by her touch. "Satisfied?" he queried gruffly as he lowered his top and raised an enquiring brow.

'No!' her mind screamed in frustration. "Looks ok," she forced out evenly, pleased that her voice didn't betray her inner turmoil. She turned and quickly walked away. "Let's go."

As soon as she left the crypt, Spike closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Tugging at his constricting jeans, he adjusted himself to a more comfortable position and tried unsuccessfully to get his unruly body to relax. When she'd touched him, it had taken all his willpower not to grab her, take her downstairs to his bed and keep her there until he'd played out every sexual fantasy he'd ever had about her…and given his overactive imagination, there were quite a lot.

Even now, he could still feel her warm fingers running softly over his body. Along his side, round to his stomach and down, down…

"You coming?"

"Almost," he muttered automatically and then his eyes snapped open in alarm.

Bollocks!

Shooting a concerned glance towards the door, he saw that the entrance was empty and breathed an unneeded sigh of relief. She obviously hadn't heard or he'd be dust, but he'd have to be more careful in the future.

Looking down, he then realised that his hand had been following the path his brain had visualised and was resting on his stomach. He immediately let it drop to his side and thanked everything that was unholy that he hadn't actually been touching himself intimately. Having to pretend you'd said something else was one thing, but having your hand shoved down your trousers would be a little difficult to explain away.

Forcibly pulling himself together, he grabbed his duster and slipped it back on then headed over to the doorway trying to will away his still aroused state. It was going to be a hell of a long night.

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

Tara busied herself in the kitchen making hot drinks and listened to rest of the gang as they bickered good-naturedly over the movie they were watching. Well, Willow and Xander were bickering good-naturedly. Anya was still moaning loudly over the fact that the back of the box labelled 'Con Air' as an action movie when, in actual fact, it was a horror film.

Tara shook her head and grinned. One look at the cute, pink toy bunny and the ex-demon had shrieked, slapped Xander on the arm and hidden behind a cushion. Hard to believe she'd been around for over a thousand years and had caused more death and destruction than the witch could ever imagine.

A noise from the doorway caused her to pause what she was doing and look over her shoulder. "Hey Dawnie," she warmly greeted upon seeing the younger Summers sister.

"Hi," the brunette replied walking over to lean on the counter next to Tara and watch as she poured out the drinks.

"Everything, OK?" the witch asked, seeing a slight frown on Dawn's face.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied with a shrug.

Unconvinced, but not wanting to push, Tara nodded then went to the fridge and retrieved the milk. She added the liquid to the drinks then returned the bottle and went back to take the steaming cups into their friends.

She was about to pick up the first cup when Dawn broke her silence to softly ask, "This thing with Spike…it's all my fault, isn't it?"

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

Buffy stepped out into the night air and took in a deep breath as she tried to get her wayward body under control. Flopping back against the cool stone of the crypt wall, she let out a small moan and closed her eyes. Geez, if just seeing his chest and barely touching his skin…his surprisingly soft and silky skin…could make her this hot, she didn't dare think about what kissing him could do to her. Spontaneous combustion, maybe?

Opening her eyes, she inhaled deeply again and let it out slowly, relieved to find that her heart was beginning to slow down to its normal steady pace. 'So much for making him squirm,' she thought to herself with a grimace. There she was, practically pawing him and he'd just stood there, unmoved.

Once again, the nagging little voice of doubt pushed its way forward demanding recognition, that maybe, just maybe, he didn't feel anything for her after all. God, how awful would that be? Not to mention, after her little display, highly embarrassing.

Determinedly ignoring the devil that sat on her shoulder whispering the unwelcome notion, she straightened and glanced back at the crypt door. Where the heck was Spike anyway? She thought he would've joined her by now.

Popping her head through the doorway, she saw him standing where she left him. Except, now, his eyes were closed and his face wore a blissful expression. The movement of his arm caught her attention and she watched as he dragged his hand slowly across his body and down.

Instinctively, she knew he was retracing the path of her hand and her heart started up its erratic beat once more. Knowing he wasn't as unaffected by her touch as he'd made out, Buffy decided to give him a little bit of payback for the moment of emotional turmoil he'd unwittingly put her through.

Watching his hand creep ever lower to the waistband of his jeans, a mischievous grin appeared on her face as she called out in the best stern voice she could manage under the circumstances, "You coming?"

She saw his lips move and then his eyes snap open before she quickly ducked back out of his view. Leaning back against the crypt, she bit her lip in an effort to stop the snort of laughter that threatened to erupt at his shocked expression. 'Serve him right,' she thought meanly, a touch of her previous irritation still begging to be released.

Hearing movement from within the crypt, Buffy immediately took a couple of steps away from the wall. Folding her arms, she schooled her features into what she hoped was a look of barely restrained impatience and waited for him to emerge.

He exited the crypt unhurriedly and sauntered over to where she stood. "Ready?" he asked, putting a cigarette to his mouth and lighting it.

Inwardly amused, Buffy noted that this simple task apparently needed so much of his attention that he couldn't even spare her one fleeting glance. "If you are," she answered sardonically.

'You don’t know the half of it, luv,' the vampire thought wryly as he closed his lighter with a snap and took a draw on his cigarette. "’Ere, aren’t I?"

"Finally," she sniped.

"Shall we?" he suggested through gritted teeth.

"Age before beauty," she returned, gesturing with her arm for him to lead the way.

Spike rolled his eyes and shook his head as he stalked passed her and headed for the cemetery gates. Definitely a long, long, night.

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

Tara stared at Dawn's tearful brown eyes in amazement. "What?" she gasped, not quite able to believe what the youngster had actually said.

Dawn moved away from the counter and sat down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, facing the witch. "Well, I was just thinking that because I'm…was…the Key, that this is my fault somehow, you know, because I got hurt…and then I was so hard on him when I went to his crypt. I mean, he just stood there and looked so upset but even then I didn't stop yelling…"

"No, Dawnie, no!" the fair-haired woman refuted strongly, interrupting the distraught girl's babbling. She walked over then sat down next to the brunette and reached out to gently turn the girl's downcast face towards her. "None of this is your fault, okay?" she asserted, willing her to believe what she was saying.

Tears began to slide down Dawn's face and Tara immediately pulled her into a warm embrace. Stroking her long brown hair soothingly, she rested her cheek against the top of the other girl's head and spoke softly. "Oh, sweetie, I know that you're upset but you have to understand that this has nothing to do with you at all. It's about him. Spike's feeling a little…confused, right now and it's made him question where, and if, he fits in around here."

Dawn sniffled and drew her head back then wiped her eyes to look at the witch. "You mean, kinda like a mid-undead life crisis, type of thing?"

"I guess you could put it like that," Tara agreed with a chuckle.

Dawn smiled and then sighed. "I just hope that Buffy can get him to see that he matters."

"She will," the witch replied as she patted Dawn's hand reassuringly.

The brunette nodded and turned brown eyes that were once more filled with tears to her friend. With a tremulous smile she declared, "She has to."

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

"Xander and Anya had some good news tonight," Buffy said conversationally as she and Spike walked through their third cemetery of the night.

The vampire took a long drag on one of his almost depleted supply of cigarettes and grunted in response while looking avidly around the graveyard for something…anything to fight. With not even so much as a fledgling for distraction, his mind had replayed her touch over and over again, causing his agitation…and other things…to rise. Painfully. He shot an aggravated glance in her direction. Maybe if she would just shut up for a few minutes, he could pretend she wasn't there and think about something else.

No such luck.

"I take it that sound means, 'Did they, Buffy? Please tell me what that was, I'm all ears'," the Slayer commented flippantly. The vampire glared at her but remained silent. "Ok, Spike, since you asked sooo nicely, I'll tell you," she continued in the same tone. "They've got engaged!"

In the middle of another pull on his cigarette when she made the announcement, Spike was taken so much by surprise that he came to an immediate stop and began to cough. "What?!" he choked out, wide-eyed.

Buffy also halted and grinned at him over-enthusiastically. "I know! Isn't it fantastic news?"

"Fantastic? Nauseating, more like. Thought the silly bint would've had more sense than to agree to marry that great twit," he replied in a disgusted tone. 'An ex-demon marrying a human who hates everything vaguely demonic. That'll last!' he thought with a derisive snort.

"Yeah, well, better get over it, Spike, because they're having a little party at the Bronze to celebrate on Saturday and Xander asked me to invite you. So, consider yourself invited." She had only taken a couple of steps when the sound of more coughing made her stop and turn around to stare at the shocked vampire. "You know, you should seriously think about giving those up," she suggested gravely then turned away and began walking again before he could she her grin.

Spike scowled and flicked the offending object across the cemetery. Just as he was about to follow her and query whether Xander really had asked, he saw a flash of colour out the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he squinted between several tombstones and spotted a body wearing a yellow shirt. "Slayer," he called out as he started towards the corpse. "Might want to take a look at this."

Buffy looked back and frowned when she saw him leave the path and walk across the grass towards some graves. She immediately headed over and joined him as he came to a stop by the body of a dead demon.

Looking down at the corpse, she saw that one of its hands was wrapped around a dagger that protruded from the middle of his chest, his face still twisted in the agonising last throes of death.

"Nasty," she commented, screwing up her nose in disgust.

"Not like you haven't seen worse than this, Slayer," the vampire remarked with a frown. "Why so squeamish?"

"Not squeamish," she dismissed with shake of her head. "Just, yellow? With that skin tone? Nasty!"

"And on that profound note…" Spike muttered snidely as he dropped to one knee to get a closer look at the body.

Buffy crouched down beside him then frowned as she took a good look at the demon and noticed that there wasn’t a drop of blood in sight. Not even a speck of a stain where the offending shirt was pierced by the dagger. "Where’s the blood?"

"That’s what I’d like to know," Spike replied as he glanced over at her then back down to the demon before standing up and gesturing to the surrounding grass. "No blood, no signs of a fight, no nothing."

"Well, he didn’t just kill himself," Buffy commented flippantly, also standing.

"Didn’t he?" Spike disputed with quirk of his eyebrow.

"Well of course not!" she declared, staring at him as if he’d lost his mind.

Spike narrowed his eyes and gazed at her assessingly. "Do you even know what he is, Slayer?" At her blank look, he shook his head in amazement. "Doesn’t that bleedin’ Watcher of yours teach you anything?" he demanded incredulously before adding, as if it explained everything, "This is a H’Numkrig demon, for God’s sake!" When she continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly, he let out a lengthy sigh. "Little fact for you to pass on to Rupert; if they die naturally or get killed, they dissolve away to nothing; if they kill themselves, they don’t."

Buffy looked at him in disbelief. "So what are you saying? That he stabbed himself, mopped up his own blood, washed his shirt and then laid down and died?" she challenged sardonically.

"No," he snapped impatiently. "I’m saying that maybe somehow, someone or something might have managed to get him to kill himself and then took his blood."

"Took his blood?" she repeated, her voice echoing her dislike of the idea. "What for?"

"Food, magic, have a bath," the blond guessed with a shrug. "Take your pick."

"I pick magic," said Buffy, looking back down at the corpse. "Maybe even a ritual of some kind. Either way, not good. I’ll speak to Giles in the morning, see what he thinks."

Spike nodded. "You should also check with Red and see if she knows of a spell that requires a willing sacrifice or something."

"Right," she nodded in agreement. "What about you?"

Spike jerked his head towards the corpse. "I’ll take care of him then swing by Willy’s and see what I can scare up."

Buffy checked her watch then looked back up at him. "Okay, I’d better be going, but I’ll be over tomorrow night and you can tell me what you found out."

He nodded and she turned to go, then hesitated and turned back causing Spike to look at her quizzically. "Just so you know, I kinda like my patrol partner in one piece," she informed him softly. "Millions of floaty ones? Not so much fun; so be careful tonight, okay?"

That said, she abruptly turned and walked briskly away, leaving behind one very stunned and confused vampire who continued to stare at the spot where the Slayer had stood long after she was tucked up safe and sound in her cosy warm bed.

END CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8 - Affirmation

The bell above the door at the Magic Shop tinkled merrily announcing the arrival of another customer to Anya's immense delight. "Good morning…" she began and stopped, the bright smile falling from her face as she saw who entered. "Oh, it's just you, Buffy. Giles is checking stock levels," she informed the blonde and then pasted another smile on her face as the bell tinkled again, her attention already elsewhere.

"Thanks, Anya," Buffy replied dryly, used to the other girl's abrupt manner. She walked down the stairs that led to the basement store room and stood at the bottom looking around the brightly lit place. Various glass containers were set out in orderly rows and the clink of a lid being replaced brought her head swinging around to the right.

"Hey, Giles," she greeted, spying her Watcher.

The older man looked up from the clipboard he held and smiled in welcome. "Hello, Buffy. Everything go alright on patrol last night?"

"Kind of," she said, walking over to the man and idly picking up a jar that contained what looked like shrivelled up prunes. She held it up and turned it around until she could read the label and pulled a disgusted face. "Ugh, Llama tongues! What are they used for?"

"Fertility spells," he replied, ignoring her incredulous look and taking the jar from her hands. Putting it back in its place, he levelled his gaze with her and asked, "Now, what happened last night to cause the amazingly uninformative response of, 'Kind of'?"

Buffy explained about the demon she and Spike had discovered the previous evening as Giles listened in studied silence.

"So," he mused when she came to a finish. "Spike believes that the H'Numkrig was somehow manipulated into killing himself?"

"Yeah, because the body was still there," she confirmed with a nod. "And we were thinking the blood could be needed for a spell or possibly a ritual of some kind."

"Well, usually a demonic ritual would require the blood of a human," Giles discounted with a frown. "As for a spell…nothing comes to mind but Willow or Tara may know something."

"I was going to ask Wills when she got here," Buffy supplied helpfully. "She and Tara are taking me shopping."

"Quite, but in the meantime I'd like to check out which demons can drain a body that way." He took off his glasses, pulled out his handkerchief and began rubbing the lenses absently. "There wasn't a spot of blood anywhere, you say?" Off her nod, he put his glasses back on and a look of anticipation started to bloom. "Absolutely fascinating. I really think we need look into this a bit deeper." Placing the clipboard down on a nearby shelf, he then brushed passed her and headed up the stairs to the main shop.

"We?" Buffy queried plaintively to his retreating back. At his lack of response, she sighed heavily then slowly followed him up the stairs. Just as she sat down at the research table, Giles joined her carrying a large, dusty tome with the title, 'Blood Demons Through The Ages.' He placed it on the table and opened the front cover to reveal the contents page written in flowery script.

"Now, while you're waiting for Willow and Tara, you can make a start with this," he instructed, pushing the volume towards her. She looked up at him aghast, but he had already turned away and was climbing the ladder to the upper level where the more 'dangerous' books were held.

"Great," she mumbled, tugging the hardback even closer and trying to read the contents. "Why couldn't he give me a book that didn't look like some huge inky spider just ran across the page," she complained, staring blankly at the barely decipherable writing before turning the page with a sigh.

Fifteen minutes and half a dozen pages later, the annoying shop bell rang again and seconds afterwards Willow's cheerful voice said, "Hey, Buff, watcha reading?"

Buffy turned her head and gave her redheaded friend and wan smile. "I have no idea."

The witch moved to the table and sat down next to her then lifted up the cover to check the title. "Oh, I read this a few months ago. Pretty boring, huh?"

"Yep; pretty unreadable too," the blonde grumbled, leaning back in her seat and then suddenly looked at her friend sceptically. "Wait a minute, you read that? For fun?"

Willow reddened slightly. "Well, I…I was waiting for Tara and…and…" she started to explain sheepishly then frowned and concluded defensively, "I was sitting here all alone and there was nothing else to do, okay?"

"Okay," Buffy replied with a small smile which the redhead couldn't help but return. The Slayer leaned forward again and closed the book with a snap. "So, do you remember if there's anything in there about a demon that can drain another demon dry and not leave any messy residue?"

Willow scrunched her forehead in thought and then shook her head. "Don't think so. Why, has something happened?"

Buffy repeated the previous night events to her friend, only pausing when Tara arrived and sat down next to her girlfriend, so she could give her a quick recap before finishing the tale.

"I can think of spells that need demon blood but none that require the donor to sacrifice themselves willingly," Tara said apologetically.

"Same here," Willow concurred.

"But we can check with our Wicca group if you like?" Tara suggested. "Maybe they know of something."

"Yeah, I think that’s a good idea," Buffy replied with a nod. "Best make sure just in case this is the start of something all big and evilly."

"Talking of big and evilly," Willow said, grinning at her friend expectantly. "How did it go with Spike last night?"

A small smile spread across Buffy’s face. "Good, actually."

"You didn’t let on you knew, then?" the redhead questioned sounding slightly surprised.

"No," the blonde refuted quickly, a hurt look appearing on her face. "I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, but you still seemed pretty ticked off when you left, so I wondered."

"No need, Will," Buffy assured her, expression lightening into a smile again. "I just messed with him a bit but I didn’t spill."

"Poor Spike," Tara put in with a chuckle.

"Well, he was being his typical snarky self and I couldn’t resist it," the Slayer admitted with a playful pout and then grinned conspiratorially. "Besides, it worked in my favour. I said you were concerned about his injury and got to see a bit of Spikey goodness as a result."

"Oh, sneaky," Willow complimented with a grin.

"I thought so," the Slayer agreed unabashed.

"Are you seeing him tonight?" asked Tara.

"Yeah, I'm going over to see if he found out anything at Willy's last night."

"What about the Bronze tomorrow? Did he agree to go?" queried Willow.

"He didn't get a chance to," explained Buffy. "We found that Humbug demon just after I asked him."

The redhead's brow furrowed slightly. "Well, if he continues the way he has, we can assume that he'll go to Willy's instead of the Bronze and then we can go to phase two." Her expression lightened. "But if he does go to the Bronze then I can pretty much guarantee that you'll be having Spike smoochies by the end of the evening. He won't be able to resist if you go all, 'Dirty Dancing' on him."

"Spike smoochies," Buffy said getting a dreamy look on her face as she remembered the soft feel of his lips on hers when she and the vampire had been under Willow's 'do-thy-will' spell just over a year before. She sighed. "I can’t wait."

The sudden sound of a book thudding to the floor and the witches collective gasp jerked her out of her reverie. Looking up, she saw a very pale-faced Giles staring back at her with a horrified expression. Oh, crap! She'd forgotten that he didn't know about her change of heart regarding the vampire. Eyes wide, she cast a desperate look at Willow and Tara but they looked as much at a loss as she felt.

Focussing on her Watcher again, she took in a deep breath and stood up. "I think we need to talk, Giles," she said, trying to keep her voice even.

"So it would appear," he croaked out, his face starting to regain some of its colour.

"Out back?" she suggested, pointing towards the training room. He nodded and allowed her to move passed him before following.

Willow let out the breath she didn't realise she was holding and looked at her girlfriend. "That's not going to be an easy conversation. Perhaps I should go in and…"

Tara reached over and covered the redhead's hand with her own. "I think they need to discuss this by themselves, sweetie. Everything will be fine, you'll see."

Willow nodded and smiled uncertainly. "I hope you're right."

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

Giles watched as Buffy paced agitatedly in front of him. Every once in a while, she paused and looked at him as if to speak but then turned away and silently continued her movement.

"Would it help if I went first?" he asked, his voice calm.

Buffy ceased walking and looked at him tensely. "Probably not," she replied honestly.

"Very well," he deferred, lapsing into silence again.

The Slayer sighed and stared at her feet. "I was going to tell you, Giles, I swear," she told him quietly.

"Tell me what exactly?" he prompted as she glanced up at him through her lashes then averted her gaze once more.

Buffy took a deep, steadying breath then looked her Watcher straight in the eyes. "That I'm in love with Spike," she confessed slowly and clearly.

Seconds ticked by as the pair stared at each other; Buffy's gaze uncertain, Giles' indecipherable.

"I see," he finally commented, the calm that seemed to have settled over him ever since he overheard her conversation, still firmly in place.

When she realised that he wasn't going to say anything further, the Slayer narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "That's it?" she questioned dubiously. "I see? No lectures? No cleaning of your glasses? No muttered curses at my stupidity in falling for another vampire? Just, I see?"

"Buffy, you are more than old enough to make your own decisions in matters of the heart," he told her evenly. "Whatever I say is hardly going to change anything."

"But aren’t you even going to try?" she responded sounded slightly panicked. "I mean you’re my Watcher, my father figure, my friend…surely one of those guys must be dying to say something!"

Giles gave her a strained look and nodded. "Believe me, they are."

"Then go ahead," she urged. "I'd rather we talk about this now than have it festering away between us."

The Englishman sighed heavily. "Buffy, you already know of my…reservations in regards to a relationship with a vampire. The fact that you now have feelings for one without a soul just turns my current headache into a migraine of gigantic proportions." He grimaced slightly as if to emphasise the point.

"He's changed," she told him softly. "Can't you see that?"

He could, and had, but he wanted to make sure that she still remembered what Spike was capable of and be relied upon to deal with it if she had to. "The chip…"

"Doesn't make any difference," she cut in assertively.

"And if it malfunctions?" Giles enquired quietly. "If he started to feed off humans again, would you be able to kill him?"

"He wouldn't," she replied with certainty.

"But what if he did, Buffy?" the Watcher persisted. "Would you? Could you?"

Buffy looked away. "I'm the Slayer."

"That's not an answer…"

Buffy abruptly turned her head back to look steadily at her Watcher. "Yes, Giles, it is," she stated flatly.

Giles simply stared back at the young woman in front of him, noting that despite her unhappily uttered words, her eyes held the strength of her conviction. She had done it before and she was prepared to do it again, no matter how much it nearly destroyed her the first time.

Seeing the pain that briefly flickered in her eyes, Giles knew that she was probably re-living that 'first time' once more and hated himself for having to be the one to bring back bad memories.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he began, remorse colouring his tone.

"That's okay, Giles, I didn't expect you to approve," she interrupted calmly.

The Watcher frowned slightly. "I never said that I didn't approve," he censured lightly.

The Slayer looked at him as if he'd suddenly grown another head. "Huh? But I thought…" She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him accusingly. "Then what was all that about the chip?"

"As your Watcher I had to make sure that you remembered your priorities, Buffy," he explained, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her glare. "I'm sorry if I upset you but it needed to be discussed."

Buffy felt her anger begin to rise but forced it back down. He was right. The chip issue had to be addressed whether she liked it or not. Getting angry with Giles wasn't going to solve anything. He had his duty just as she had hers and at least they both knew where they stood now so there would be no need to talk about it further.

Bringing forth a small smile, she reached out and touched his hand. "That's okay, Giles, I understand." He patted her hand gently and gave her a grateful smile in return.

Removing her hand, her smile got wider. "So," she began brightly. "Watcher guy's had his say, who's going next? Father figure guy?"

Giles let out a wry chuckle. "If he did, he’d probably have something to say about the age gap. A hundred plus years is hardly conducive…"

"Okay," the Slayer said holding up her hand for him to stop. "First off…conducive? Is that even a word? And secondly, you sound too much like a real dad. How about we just cut to the chase and go to friend guy." Her eyes grew round and appealing as she softly requested, "Tell me what you really think."

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

"Hey, Gorgeous," greeted Xander with a grin as he entered the Magic Shop and looked over at the counter where his fiancée usually stood. She wasn't there. "Ahn?" he called, his eyes sweeping over the rest of the shop and noting that the place appeared to be empty. Smile fading, he cautiously moved further into the shop. "Anya!"

There was movement from the back of the shop then Anya suddenly appeared, not looking at all happy. "Will you keep it down!" she chided in an angry hushed voice before turning around and going to the back of the shop once more.

"Hello darling," Xander said to himself mockingly as he followed her, wondering at her odd behaviour. When he got to the research table, he saw that the ex-vengeance demon was standing at the training room door alongside Willow and Tara. All three had their ears up against the door, straining to hear what was happening on the other side.

"What's going on?" asked Xander as he joined Willow, Tara and Anya at the training room door.

"Shh, Buffy's in there with Giles," Anya whispered to her fiancé. "She's telling him about Spike."

"Oh, how's it going?" Xander whispered back.

Anya gave him a pointed look. "I don't know. I can't hear anything because someone keeps talking."

The brunet opened his mouth to retort but a stern glare from his bride to be had him thinking better of it and he smiled feebly instead.

"I think they've been talking about the chip," Willow unexpectedly supplied quietly.

"Yeah, and I’m pretty sure Giles just complained about their difference in ages," Tara added with a puzzled look.

"Are you sure, sweetie?" the redhead queried, also looking baffled. "I mean, it’s just…without any yelling it's kinda hard to tell what’s being said."

"It's also hard to tell because people are talking," Anya added, her annoyance obvious.

Xander shot his fiancée a quick apologetic look then leaned towards the redhead. "Can't you just do a spell so we could all hear?" he whispered questioningly.

"No!" the witch discounted, her vehement tone hushed. "They're having a private conversation in there, we couldn't do that. It…it'd be rude!"

"Oh, and having your ears superglued to the door, isn't?" the carpenter asked dryly, forgetting to be quieter.

"Xander, I swear, if you don't you shut up, I'll withhold any hope of orgasms for an entire week," Anya threatened irately.

The brunet paled considerably and immediately clamped his lips together. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he pretended to turn a key in an imaginary lock and throw it over his shoulder. Moving behind her, he slipped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss on her neck before joining the other eavesdroppers and leaning his ear against the door.

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

Buffy watched Giles reach up, take his glasses off and absently begin to clean them. Seeing it as a stalling tactic so that he could choose his words carefully, her agitation began to grow. This wasn’t going to be good.

Having put his spectacles back on, Giles looked at the young woman in front of him impassively. "To be perfectly honest with you, Buffy, Spike isn’t be my first choice of partner for you and never will be simply because he’s not human. In addition, he’s ill tempered, uncouth, dreadfully annoying and has the all social grace of a flea."

Buffy opened her mouth to hotly deny his appalling description of the blond but realised that there wasn't anything she could actually refute. Unfortunately, Spike could be all those things and more and if Giles’ intake of breath was any indication, he apparently wasn’t finished listing them yet. Shutting her mouth, she folded her arms and looked down, miserably waiting for him to continue his diatribe.

Giles saw her dejected expression and took a step forwards, causing her to raise her head and focus on him so she would see that he also meant what he said next. "Failings aside, his behaviour of late, especially during the business with Glory, has opened my eyes to Spike's more…benevolent nature. I see his devotion to you and Dawn…and it is unparalleled. His desire to protect you both, even at the cost of his own existence, is, quite frankly, a miracle for one without a soul. To be able to overcome one's nature like that, even though he received no encouragement from any of us, it makes him…" he paused, trying to find the right words and then concluded quietly, "…unique." He smiled gently. "So, no, definitely not first choice, but I have to confess that he does come in a very close second."

Buffy stared at her Watcher with tear filled eyes. A tremulous smile made its way to her lips and then she closed the distance between them and engulfed him in a hug so tight it almost cut off his circulation. "Thank you, Giles," she whispered emotionally.

The Englishman patted her gently on the back then extricated himself from her crushing grip. Looking down at her seriously, he said, "Before you thank me, please just promise me one thing, Buffy."

"What?" she asked with a look of trepidation.

Giles’ expression took on a part pained, part pleading look. "Let me know in advance when you’re bringing Spike to my place so I can hide my good whisky."

A huge grin bloomed on the Slayers face. "I think I can manage that," she chuckled and drew him in for another bone crushing embrace.

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

"Quick, they’re coming out, let’s go," Willow urged as she straightened up from her eavesdropping position by the door and hurried over to the research table followed by the others.

By the time Giles and Buffy exited, all four Scoobies where apparently thoroughly engrossed in the demon texts that were spread over the table top.

"Don’t even bother," Buffy told them with an amused smile. "Stampeding elephants are quieter and I heard Xander knock the chair over."

Giles nodded his agreement. "Yes, we really must work on your stealth abilities if you will insist on listening in on any more of our conversations."

The gang all stared back at the pair with varying levels of sheepishness then visibly relaxed back into their seats.

"Sorry," Willow offered humbly. "We were just…"

"Being nosey," Anya finished for her.

"I was going to say, concerned," the redhead corrected, shooting the other girl a reproving look.

Buffy grinned. "No big," she announced with a shrug. "And since you already listened in, we can just go shop for my hot new outfit now."

Xander grimaced slightly. "Is that for the much hyped, phase two?" he asked, putting his hands up and signalling quotes in the air with his fingers as he spoke the last two words, slightly derisively.

"Yep," the Slayer confirmed as she grabbed her coat and put it on.

"Phase two?" Giles asked with a perplexed look.

"Of the plan," Buffy supplied helpfully.

"Plan?" the Watcher repeated, his bafflement deepening. He looked to each of the gang in turn. "What plan?"

Remembering that Giles wasn’t a party to the Willow’s scheme, Buffy quickly remedied the situation and gave him a brief outline. "So, you mean to tell me that Spike has now developed a guilt complex?" he queried in amazement. At the energetic nods of affirmation from all the women, Giles’ eyes widened. "Remarkable," he murmured, removing his glasses and frantically cleaning the lenses. Replacing them back on his nose, he walked up to the table and moved a couple of books until he found a scrap piece of blank paper underneath. Picking it up, he felt around in his pockets for a pen and having found one, he wandered off muttering to himself, "I must write this all down. I’ve never heard anything like this about a soulless vampire before. He truly is quite remarkable."

Buffy turned back to Willow and Tara with a grin. "Mall?" The witches grinned back and nodded. "Let’s go."

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

Buffy hurried through the cemetery towards Spike’s crypt. She was late. Again. And if he dared to make one crack about her needing beauty sleep tonight…still, it’d be worth it. She’d found a great outfit at the last store they’d been to. As soon as she’d walked out of the changing room, both Willow and Tara’s eyes had widened and pleased grins had appeared on their faces as they voiced their approval of her choice.

"That's it!" Willow had exclaimed, indicating for Buffy to give them a quick twirl. "I'd like to see him try and resist you now."

"Well, he can be pretty stubborn," Buffy had replied as she turned to eye herself critically in the mirror. "Do you think I should go for a lower cut top or would that be too obvious?"

"Any lower and you might as well not bother wearing a top," the redhead had chuckled.

"Okay. Too obvious. Gotcha. I'll stick with this then," the Slayer had decided then gone and changed before paying for her purchases.

Once home, Dawn was waiting and had demanded seeing her new clothes too. Once she had her sister's approval as well, she'd grabbed a sandwich and got changed for patrol.

Spike's crypt loomed up ahead and she speeded up to a trot for the last couple of hundred yards. Coming to a halt, Buffy about to kick the door open, when it suddenly swung inwards and Spike appeared in the doorway.

"Late again, Slayer," he stated without preamble. "Beginning to think you’re forming a bad habit there, pet."

"Twice is hardly a habit, Spike," she retorted defensively. "And I’m only late today because I was out shopping with Willow and Tara. I had to get something to wear for the party tomorrow."

"Like you haven’t got stacks of stuff," he commented with a snort as he exited his crypt passed her and headed off through the cemetery.

"Not dressy stuff," she said dismissively as she fell into step beside him.

"Course you have, luv. What about that little black dress you’ve got pushed right to the back of your ward…" He paused, a look of panic coming over his features as his brain finally caught up with his mouth and he realised what he’d inadvertently let slip.

"I beg your pardon?" Buffy asked, her eyes wide. "Have you been looking through my closet? After that whole chaining me up, altar to the Slayer having thing, I thought you said that you got my blue sweater from the washing pile in the basement?"

Busted!

"I did," Spike lied, looking covertly around the cemetery. Where’s a bleedin’ grave big enough to swallow you whole when you needed one, he wondered bleakly to himself as he reluctantly turned his eyes back to her face.

Buffy looked at him knowingly, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Uh-huh. So how do you know that I have a black dress at the back of my closet?" she asked deliberately, tilting her head slightly to the side as she awaited his answer.

Stalling for time, Spike rummaged around in his pockets for a cigarette and made a show of lighting it then inhaling.

"Well?"

‘Bloody hell woman, give a bloke time to think,’ he grumbled in his head then gave her a careless shrug that belied his inner tension. "Just a good guess," he finally responded aloud. "All you birds buy a sexy black number and shove it in the back of your wardrobe’s, never to be worn. It’s like a female teenage requirement or something."

Buffy knew he was lying through his teeth but decided to let it drop…for now. She chuckled lightly at his joke and nodded agreeably. "You’re right, we do."

Spike was surprised she let it go so easily but didn’t push it, deciding to change the subject to safer ground instead. "So, you interested in what I found out last night?" At her nod, he continued. "Willy told me he found one of his customers, Lana, out back in the dumpster. Dead with no sign of a struggle but not drained."

"Are you thinking it could be linked to our guy?"

"Possibly," he replied, dropping his cigarette butt on the ground and treading on it without breaking his stride.

"What about the non drainage?" she queried with a slight frown.

Spike shrugged. "Maybe he got disturbed and dumped the body before he had time to take any," he suggested.

Buffy nodded. "Sounds reasonable," she replied then looked over at him hopefully. "I don’t suppose anyone saw anything, did they?"

The vampire shook his head. "No, but a couple of days ago, I saw Lana with a right ugly git. Not seen him before so could be new in town. Thought we could have a bit of a bar crawl tonight and see if we could find him."

"New demon in town possibly killing other demons," Buffy said flippantly. "Seems like he’s doing me a favour, I should just let him get on with it. The less nasties around here, the better."

Stopping abruptly, Spike turned towards her, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his sudden flare of temper at her careless words in check. "For your information, Slayer, those so-called nasties that have been murdered lived peacefully alongside humans. Their kind never hurt a fly, human or otherwise. I know in your book, demon equals evil, but it’s about time you understood that not everything in this world is that black and white. It never has been."

With one last hard look at her, he turned away to walk off but Buffy’s hand on his arm stopped him. Turning his head, he looked pointedly down at her hand then back up to her face, eyebrows raised.

"You’re right, I’m sorry," she told him quietly. "It was wrong of me to say what I did." She gave his arm a light squeeze and smiled gently. "Forgive me?"

Taken aback at the sincerity of her tone, Spike remained silent. For the second time in as many nights, she’d surprised him. He’d expected harsh words, not an apology and it confused the hell out of him. "Nothing to forgive, pet," he eventually told her, letting his gaze drop back to where she was still touching him. Freely. Willingly.

For a moment he allowed himself to enjoy her touch then suddenly felt the invisible threads of her world start to wind their way through his unbeating heart and begin tugging. He immediately took a step away from her, breaking the light contact she had on his arm. Clearing his throat, he swallowed hard and took a deep unneeded breath. "I think it’s best if we start at Willy’s and go on from there, don’t you?" he suggested, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy agreed lightly, trying to not let the disappointment of his sudden withdrawal show on her face.

"Right," he said, glancing at her before starting to walk. "Let’s go."

Three unsuccessful hours and five bars later, they walked slowly along Revello Drive and came to a halt outside Buffy’s house. To their frustration, they hadn’t found the ugly demon nor managed to garner any information about him. The only highlight of the evening was the brawl Spike had started at the third bar when a drunk Tamar demon had bumped against Buffy almost knocking her over. The vampire had immediately demanded an apology on her behalf and when the Tamar had refused point blank, the blond had seen red and punched him hard on the nose. Buffy had sat on a stool and watched the fight play out in front of her with a wide smile on her face, simply enjoying seeing the vampire in action.

Thinking of the fight immediately brought a smile back to her face as she remembered a particularly fine roundhouse kick he'd delivered that had made his T-shirt ride up slightly to reveal a glimpse of his taut stomach while his duster swirled around him dramatically. The blow had rendered the Tamar unconscious and Spike had stood proudly over the limp body before throwing a triumphant glance her way. It was a memory she'd been replaying on and off during the rest of the night and on a couple of occasions she'd been so wrapped up in her reverie that she'd missed something that the vampire had said. Just like now.

"Huh?" she queried blankly, desperately trying to come out of her Spike-happy induced fog so she could focus on the vampire in question.

Spike looked at her strangely but didn't say anything. She'd been a bit spacey ever since the fight he'd had at Donnelly's. He wondered briefly if it was something to do with him but discarded it almost instantly as she looked far too happy for that possibility. "I said I’ll try Willy’s again tomorrow night," he repeated slowly, checking to see if she was listening this time. "Someone, somewhere knows something. I might play a hand or two of poker, see what I can find out."

"Oh, right, yeah, you should do that," she replied. "I would help but…"

"Party. I know," the blond supplied, smiling a little at the thought of her sitting in on a game of cards where the stakes up for grabs were cute fluffy kittens. That'd be an experience.

"Yeah." She looked over her shoulder to her house and then back at him. "Well, I'd better go in, it's late."

Spike nodded. "Goodnight, pet," he replied, feeling a little stab of hurt that she hadn't tried to get him to the party one last time. Not that he'd go, but still… "Enjoy yourself tomorrow."

She nodded and smiled then walked up her path and opened the door. Before crossing the threshold, she turned and gave him a brief wave then entered her home. Spike stayed until he heard her lock the door, then slowly walked away. Half an hour later he was back. Lighting a cigarette from his newly acquired pack, he looked up at Buffy’s window watching her silhouette as she prepared for bed. The light went off and he moved across to the tree where he’d spent many a long night watching over his girls.

Settling himself back against the coarse trunk, he recalled her apology from earlier that evening and felt his still heart twinge once more. Taking a drag on the cigarette, he exhaled the smoke telling himself that it wouldn't hurt to watch over them for one night…just for old time's sake.

END CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9 - Preparations

Buffy awoke late the next morning, feeling refreshed and completely rested. Throwing back the covers, she got out of bed and headed for the bathroom contemplating her day ahead. There were a couple of things she still needed to take care of before the evening and Willow and Tara were coming over to help. Realising she didn't have long before they arrived, she quickly showered and dressed then headed down the stairs to the kitchen.

Greeting her sister, she grabbed a box of cereal and poured some out in a bowl. She added some milk then sat down next to Dawn.

"All set for tonight?" the brown haired girl asked.

"Pretty much," Buffy replied in-between mouthfuls of food. "Just a couple of last minute details to take care of and then I can get ready."

Dawn grinned. "Major pampering, huh?"

"Yep," the Slayer confirmed with a nod. "Bath oils, excess hair removal, manicure, pedicure and hair primpage."

"All by nine o’clock tonight? Geez, Buffy, best get started now," the younger Summers said with a pointed look at her watch.

"Very funny," her sister replied dryly at the implication that eleven hours wasn’t enough time for her to beautify herself. Picking up her now empty bowl, Buffy carried it over to the sink then turned around and leaned against the counter with her arms folded. "So, you arranged to stay at Janice’s tonight?"

"Yep, she said it’s no problem, so don’t worry, you and Spike will have the house all to yourselves," Dawn assured her with a mischievous giggle.

Buffy grinned back, a faint blush lighting her cheeks at the thought of possibly spending the night with Spike. Alone. All night. No distractions. And with any luck…naked. Oh God…please…let there be nakedness. Especially of the bleached blond, undead, lean-muscled variety.

Dawn rolled her eyes as she lost her sister to what she gathered must be an extremely pleasant daydream then stood up and went to answer the front door when she heard the doorbell ring.

"Hey Dawnie, Buffy up yet?" Willow greeted brightly as she and Tara entered the house.

"Hey Willow. Hey Tara. Yeah, she’s in here," the teen replied carelessly as she walked back into the kitchen and gestured over at her sister who was still staring into space with a sappy smile on her face.

"Let me guess; thinking about Spike again?" Willow asked wryly, having experienced the Slayer phasing out on her four times the previous afternoon while out shopping.

"More like major droolage," Dawn replied with a shake of her head.

"I think it's sweet," Tara commented with a smile.

"Yeah," Dawn and Willow both agreed softly. Smiles appeared on their own faces as they gazed at their sister and friend, noting with pleasure that she looked happier than she had in months.

Buffy sighed then blinked a couple of times as she came out of her reverie and saw Dawn, Willow and Tara all standing in the kitchen doorway smiling knowingly at her. "I did it again, didn’t I?" she asked wryly.

"Yep," Dawn answered with a laugh.

"Totally gone," Tara agreed.

"Sorry guys, I was just thinking about tonight," she said, hoping they’d take her explanation at face value and not realise that she’d been happily fantasising about Spike laying stretched out on her bed wearing nothing but his duster and trademark smirk.

"Don’t worry, it’s going to go just fine," Willow told her assuredly. "I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything covered."

Determinedly putting thoughts of Spike from her mind, Buffy nodded then pushed herself away from the sink and looked at her friends expectantly. "So, we ready to go?" They nodded and she turned to Dawn. "You want to come along too? Could use an extra pair of hands."

"Yeah, sure," the teen replied eager to help get her sister and favourite vampire together.

That decided, the sisters grabbed their coats and followed the witches out of the house. As they reached the end of the path, Buffy glanced over at the tree in her front yard out of habit, knowing that was where Spike used to spend his nights watching over them. Not expecting to see anything, she slowed to a stop when she noticed several cigarette butts littering the ground beneath the towering branches. It took a few seconds for the realisation to sink in that the vampire had obviously stood there the previous night and she felt a rush of warmth flood through her system at the knowledge. A smile lighting her face, she hurried after the others, determined more than ever that what she had planned that night would be a resounding success and Spike would no longer believe he belonged on the fringes of her life.

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

Giles looked up from the reference book he was reading and stared at the four young women who had just entered the shop and were now stood in front of him. "Good Lord, what on earth have you all been doing?" he enquired curiously, noting the fine coating of dust that liberally covered their shoulders and their hair.

All four touched a hand to their heads self-consciously then looked at each other and chuckled when they realised what they'd done.

"We've just been helping Buffy get a few last minute things done before tonight," Willow explained.

"Tonight?" the Watcher asked blankly. "I don't follow."

"I told you yesterday, Giles," Buffy reminded him. "You know, the whole Spike guilt, Willow plannage, Spike smooch…"

"Yes! Yes, I think you've jogged my memory quite enough thank you, Buffy," the Englishman replied with a pained look as he held up a hand to stop her completing the sentence. "No need to continue."

"Okay," Buffy acquiesced with a grin. Resting her hands on the chair opposite him she continued, "We were just passing and I thought I'd better stop in and ask how the research was going."

The Watcher removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before replacing them and blinking a couple of times. "Not good, I’m afraid," he admitted on a sigh. "While there are numerous demons that could drain a body if they so chose to, I can’t find a single reference to one that needs a willing participant." He leaned back in his chair. "I suppose that since there’s only been the one occurrence, I’ll just have to make a note of it for future reference."

"Actually, Willy found another body. A girl this time," the Slayer informed him. "Spike seems to think that it could be the same guy behind it but the blood wasn’t drained from this one."

"Then what makes him think it’s linked?" the Watcher asked, puzzled.

"Because, apparently, there wasn’t any sign of a struggle. Spike thinks that the killer may have been interrupted."

"It’s feasible, I suppose," Giles allowed consideringly. "Does he have any idea on who could be doing this?"

"He says that he saw a really ugly demon talking to the girl that Willy found. Could be new in town. We checked in a few bars last night but didn’t find him," she explained.

"Ugly, you say?" Giles queried with raised eyebrows. "Well, I could try cross referencing that piece of information but as that particular description fits most of the demon population, I doubt that it will be of much value."

"Me either, but I thought you might want to know anyway," the Slayer replied with a shrug.

"Quite. You never know when something seemingly trivial turns out to be the answer to everything," he commented as he closed the book he'd been reading. Standing, he picked it up then turned and put it back in its place on the shelf behind. He took a few seconds to choose another tome then turned back and placed it on the table. "So, what time does your grand scheme begin tonight?" he asked as he sat back down.

"Around nine-ish, all being well," Buffy replied.

"Well, I suppose I should wish you good luck," the Watcher offered with a small smile.

"Thanks," the Slayer responded warmly. She turned to her sister and checked the time. Upon hearing that it was nearly three o'clock, she gave a little squeak of dismay then announced that she'd better go and get ready. All four girls said their goodbyes to Giles and Anya, who was at the counter, then headed for the door.

Giles watched them for a moment, then opened up the large book in front of him, smiling wryly as he heard Willow comment on the fact that six hours was a little excessive, even for Buffy, to get ready. The door opening and shutting cut off any response the Slayer made and Giles sighed hoping that everything went well that night. He had feeling that if it didn't, Spike, with all his unpredictable complexities, might possibly move even further out of her reach.

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

Spike turned over onto his front and let out a frustrated huff. "Bloody go to sleep, you prat," he grumbled to himself in annoyance. After leaving his vigil shortly before dawn, the vampire had returned to his crypt, downed a bottle of JD and then retired to bed.

Knowing that the drink wouldn't be enough to make him pass out, he'd turned to the only other option that did…pleasuring himself. Of all the thoughts of the evening spent with Buffy filling his head, it was the remembrance of her hand firmly clasping arm as she said, "Forgive me," that finally triggered his climax, her name tumbling repeatedly from his lips in short gasps of unneeded air.

As soon as he started to come down from his high, he'd mentally castigated himself for being so pathetic as to get off on what she'd said, while, at the same time, trying hard not to feel guilty over using her words and image like that in the first place. Impatiently, he’d waited for the relaxing calm that usually followed his act to bathe him in its glow so he could get some much needed rest.

Unfortunately, unlike him, it didn't come and the sleep he craved continued to allude him. Cleaning himself up with the bed sheet, he'd balled it up and thrown it into a corner in disgust before getting himself another. For hours he'd tossed and turned, trying out different positions. On his back, on his front, left side, right side, feet raised on his pillow, head hanging off the bed, sitting up…hell, even standing up! Nothing worked.

Nothing. Nothing stopped the incessant clamour of guilt that kept knocking at the back of this mind with a determination that he was sure would eventually make him insane.

Flipping over onto his back, he let out a long sigh and officially gave up. Going by his internal vamp clock, he knew still had a few hours before the sun went down, but he decided to get up anyway. Throwing the sheet back off his body, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached out to grab his jeans from the floor. Standing, he put them on then walked over to the ladder that led to the upper level. A couple of minutes later, he was seated in his chair, a bag of blood in one hand and the television remote in the other. Absently flicking through the channels he stopped on an eighty’s high school based chick flick and settled down to watch. If this didn’t send him off to sleep double quick, then the boredom of it would soon have him staking himself…either way, he figured, his internal torment would be happily over for another day.

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

Buffy clicked off the hairdryer then put it down on her dresser and ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it to the desired effect. Staring at herself in the mirror, she teased a couple more strands into place and tilted her head appraisingly. Finally, happy with the result, she stood up and padded over to her closet where her clothes for that evening were on hangers on the door.

Removing her bathrobe, she took the blouse off its hanger and slipped it on over her black, lacey, strapless bra. Next, she reached for the skirt she was going to wear with it and pulled it up over her black, sheer, hold-up stockinged legs to cover her black lacey high cut panties. Once she'd drawn up the side zip fastening, she sat down on her bed and pulled on black suede, knee high boots and zipped them up too.

Fully dressed, she left her bedroom and went into the bathroom where she applied her make-up with practised ease. With one last fluff of her hair, she blew herself a kiss in the mirror and then headed downstairs to her waiting friends.

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

After becoming thoroughly engrossed in the film, Spike had watched it to its inevitable romantically slushy outcome then eventually fallen asleep for a couple of hours in his chair when the news began. Awakening just as the sun finished it's descent into blackness, Spike got up feeling only slightly better than before he'd slept and finished dressing.

Pulling on his duster, he grabbed his cigarette packet from a rickety old dresser he'd aquisitioned from the nearby dump one night then walked out of his crypt into the warm evening. Shutting the door after him, he strode through the cemetery towards the exit. When he reached the sidewalk, he paused for a moment and looked left, contemplating whether to go the Bronze or not for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening.

With a slight shake of his head, he turned right and headed into town. He’d told Buffy that he’d carry on looking for the ugly git and he was going to do it, no matter how much he longed to do the opposite.

Bloody guilt complex…turning him into a right do-gooding pansy.

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

Buffy slowly walked down the stairs to be met at the bottom by five pairs of admiring eyes.

"You look great," Willow enthused with a grin.

"Very pretty," Tara agreed.

"I think you look fantastic," said Dawn almost bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Yeah, I…uh…like your…uh…top," Xander sputtered, unable to tear his eyes away from the ample amount of cleavage that she had on display.

"Yes…excellent choice of clothing," Anya complimented. "Spike's going to jump your bones as soon as he sees you wearing that."

"Ahn!" Xander exclaimed, finally looking away from Buffy's chest long enough to cast his fiancée a horrified look.

"What?" she queried innocently. "Isn't that the whole purpose of this evening?"

"No!" the brunet told her crossly. "At least…not within the range of my hearing, it isn't!"

"Oh, well, you'd better go into the other room then because I have a few handy tips to aid in vampire seduction that I want to give Buffy and you probably won't want to hear them," the ex-demon instructed matter-of-factly. Without waiting to see if he did as she said, she looked back at the Slayer and smiled. "Now, necks, obviously, are an erogenous zone. So are their ears, chests, arms, legs…well, actually, pretty much anywhere you to touch them will induce instant arousal, especially their pe…"

"Okay, okay, minor amongst us," Buffy interrupted hastily, holding her hand up to stop the woman from talking. "I really don’t want Dawn hearing this…"

"Oh, Buffy!" the teen protested with a whine. "I'm not a kid!"

"…but, uh, thanks for the tip Anya, it was…uh…it's been a big help," the Slayer concluded after shooting her sister a silencing glare which produced folded arms, an eye roll and a very pronounced sulky pout from her sibling.

"Oh, but I have loads more," Anya began eagerly, ignoring the fact that Buffy didn't want to listen. "Sex toys and bond…"

"Anya, honey, I think Buffy gets the idea," Xander cut in, taking his fiancée's arm in a firm grip and pulling her away towards the door. "We have to go," he said looking over his shoulder at the Buffy and the others. "Good luck with tonight."

Buffy smiled and gave Xander a grateful look then couldn’t help but cringe when the ex-demon continued to talk. "But Xander, I haven’t had a chance to tell Buffy about their staying power. I’m quite envious really…being a vampire, Spike can have sex all night long; he’ll always be ready…"

"Hey!" Xander exclaimed an aggrieved tone as he opened the door and all but pushed Anya through it. "First off, I have staying power, thank you very much and I'm always ready…unless I've had a hard day at work, of course. And second off…Oh…my…god! Did you have to say the words 'Spike' and 'sex' in the same sentence? Do you know what that does to my nervous system? I think it's shut down."

"Oh, stop overreacting, Xander. Just me saying 'Spike' and 'sex' can't possibly affect you physically."

"You said it again! My God, it really has shut down this time! I think you've actually managed to traumatise me for life, you know that?"

"Oh please…"

The door shut behind the bickering pair leaving the four remaining women to look at each other. As one, they started smiling and then laughing which only abated when the sound of a horn blaring outside filled the air.

"Oh, that's Janice's mom, I gotta go," Dawn exclaimed running up the stairs and grabbing her overnight bag from her room. She rushed back down and engulfed her sister in a quick hug before wishing her luck with the evening and running out the door to her waiting ride.

"Well, guess I'd better get going too," Buffy said, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"Did you want to wait a couple of minutes until we find out where he is exactly?" Tara asked, sensing the blonde woman's unease. "It'll give you a better idea of how long you've got then."

"Yeah, that's good idea," the Slayer replied with a smile.

The witches moved into the lounge and sat on opposite sides of the town map that they'd laid out in preparation a couple of hours before. Herbs were mixed, words chanted and a small burst of flame ignited near the centre of the map.

"He's at Willy's," Buffy said, bending over to take a look. "That should give me about forty five minutes."

"Right," Willow said, standing up. "We'd best get going."

Tara also stood and the three women walked to the door and out into the night. At the end of the path they stopped and grinned at each other.

"I'll call you later, okay?" Buffy promised.

"We want all the details," the redhead told her with a mischievous giggle.

The Slayer just shook her head and gave her friend a gentle push to get her moving. "Just go already."

The witches waved goodbye then headed into town towards Willy's, while Buffy turned and walked off in the opposite direction. Nerves fleeing with each step she took nearer to her destination, Buffy was soon looking forward to the evening ahead.

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

Fen strolled into Willy's place and surveyed the bar appraisingly. He needed to feed. Saul hadn't sustained him for a long as he'd hoped and now his limbs ached protestingly, crying out for more nourishment. He'd visited a couple of bars on the other side of town the night before but had found nothing of interest and so had returned to the place where, so far, his hunting had been successful. He hoped it would be again tonight.

His gaze flitted around the room, pausing every now and then to rest on certain demons as he silently reached out his senses to check if they were a likely candidate. Three quarters of the way around he found what he was looking for and smiled. She was exquisite and he felt a momentary pang that she wouldn't be alive by the end of the night.

He took a step towards her table, then stopped as the door behind him opened and someone in a long leather coat with a shock of white bleached hair walked past, heading straight for the bar. Fen couldn't believe his eyes…or his luck. He'd been so certain that the witches had killed the unholy creature who was ordering a bottle of whisky as he watched.

"Oh, vampire, your pain is great but soon you'll not have to suffer any more," he breathed, his grin widening as his senses latched onto to Spike's tumultuous emotions. His earlier prey forgotten, Fen saw the blond pay for his drink, then head for a table at the back of the room. As soon as he sat down, Fen wiped the smile from his face to adopt a concerned look and headed over.

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

Willow and Tara stood nervously outside Willy's hand in hand.

"You ready, sweetie?" Willow asked her girlfriend.

"Ready," Tara replied with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

The redhead took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, we're going in."

With a nod of assent, Tara gripped Willow's hand a little tighter and together they entered to bar.

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

Spike raised the shot glass to his lips and surreptitiously gazed over the top, his eyes immediately locking onto the ugly demon who was wending his way through the tables to the bar. Or not, he realised as the man changed direction and nonchalantly headed his way. Even better.

When Spike had approached Willy’s he’d felt a chill run up his spine and recognised it as the feeling he’d recently had twice before. The initial time was when he’d first seen the very demon that was walking towards him and the second had been in the alley when he was being followed. Now, as he sat there with his spine still tingling, he knew without a doubt that his stalker that night was the demon that had just stopped at his table and was smiling at him in a friendly way.

"Something you wanted?" the vampire asked coldly.

Fen’s smile widened just a fraction. "You looked like you could use a friend," he replied, sitting down on the chair next to Spike. "Someone to talk to."

"That right?" the vampire asked slowly.

He nodded. "Name's Fen. I'm a very good listener." He leaned forward, staring hard at the blond. "Go on, you can tell me. Let it all out. You know you want to," he encouraged.

As the quietly spoken request reached him, Spike was taken aback when he felt a compulsion to do exactly what Fen wanted and tell him everything. The vampire's eyes widened slightly as he realised what Fen was trying to do and he forced a tight lipped smile to his face and as ground out tersely, "A thrall is it? Vampire here, you nit. Don't work on us."

Fen chuckled. "Yes it does and what I do is so much more than a mere thrall, Vampire. I wouldn't fight it if I were you, you'll only hurt yourself."

Spike gritted his teeth and made a determined effort to try and look away but found that he couldn't. He was just starting to feel slightly worried when he suddenly felt a hand land on his shoulder followed by Willow's voice urgently saying his name.

"Spike! Oh, thank Goddess we found you."

Disturbed by the interruption, Fen broke eye contact with Spike and shot the witch a baleful glare instead. Regaining control of his senses and body once more, the vampire let out a low growl and swiftly stood up, turning his back on the demon to face Willow and Tara.

"What's up, Red?" asked Spike, taking a step to his left and effectively blocking Fen's view of the two witches so that the demon couldn't try his trick on either of them.

Angry at being thwarted by the same witches that had interfered previously, Fen furiously pushed his chair back with a loud scrape and stood up. The noise was enough to make Spike turn around, although he still made sure that he provided enough protection for the women. For a split second, their eyes locked and Spike felt the pull of the thrall run briefly through his body before Fen released him and gave him a nasty smile. "I'll be seeing you, Vampire," he promised with a sneer then abruptly turned and walked away.

Spike watched him leave the bar then a hand on his arm drew his attention back to the witches.

"Who was that?" Willow asked with a worried frown. "Was he the ugly demon you told Buffy about?"

The vampire looked at her blankly, debating whether to tell the truth or not. If he did then it’d be all hands to the Scooby decks with Buffy shouldering the load as usual. If he said no, he could deal with Fen himself and Buffy would be none the wiser and a whole lot safer until it was over. Fen was powerful, but Spike was sure he could take him out. Hell, if a hundred and twenty years worth of Dru's attempts at enthralling him hadn't worked then this guy should be a doddle to resist once he was prepared. And maybe, just maybe, at the end of it all, if he was really, really lucky…he’d have earned himself enough redemption to ease the guilt he carried over Dawn to a more manageable level.

God, please, let him be that lucky.

"Spike?" Willow pressed when it looked like he wasn’t going to reply. "Did you hear me?"

"It’s not him, Red," Spike lied calmly. "That was just some guy wanting to know where the action was, that’s all."

Willow looked at him uncertainly then glanced at Tara who looked as disbelieving as she felt. Looking back at the vampire she said, "Are you sure? Because Buffy said that you said he was really ugly and that guy was really ugly."

"Not him," Spike repeated firmly then changed the subject. "Now, what was it you wanted again?"

"Wanted?" the redhead repeated dumbly. There was a momentary pause until Tara nudged her girlfriend in the back and leaned over to whisper Buffy's name in her ear.

"What about Buffy?" the vampire immediately challenged when he overheard.

Having forgotten about Spike's enhanced hearing, Willow was glad that Tara hadn't anything more than her friend's name. She didn't want to ruin her plan before it even had a chance. Shaking off the uneasy feeling she still had about the demon that had just left, she tried to focus on the task at hand. "Right, Buffy," she began, getting herself into pretend concerned friend mode. Pitching her voice to what she hoped was just the right amount of trepidation, she told him, "She found out there's a whole bunch of vamp's nesting in the Sherman crypt at Rosewood cemetery. She's on her way over there now and asked us to come get you."

"She wants my help?" Spike clarified, dubiously wondering if the effects of the thrall had affected his hearing in some way. Even though they patrolled almost every night, Buffy had never actually asked for his help. He just pitched into a fight when he wanted to.

"Yeah," Willow nodded then after a pause added, "She said she needs you."

Spike's eyes widened at that and he swallowed hard. Buffy needed him? Needed him! And he was standing there like a complete wanker. "How many?" he suddenly demanded as he began moving towards the exit.

"She doesn't know for sure, but we think at least twelve," Willow supplied, walking quickly to keep up with the blond's strides as he weaved through the tables.

"Maybe more," Tara added.

"Bloody hell! Couldn't you get the stupid bint to at least wait for me?" Spike ground out, his fear for the Slayer taking on that many vamps alone making him angry. Not even expecting a reply to his question, he reached the door and yanked it open then turned back to the witches and gestured around the bar. "This place it dangerous. Go home and I'll get the Slayer to call you when she gets back."

Once they nodded their assent, Spike turned on his heel and broke into a dead run in the direction of Rosewood cemetery.

Willow and Tara followed him out then stood just outside the bar and shared a satisfied smile. "And so begins phase two," the redhead said with a trace of smugness. "Gotta say, he was easier to convince than even I thought he would be."

"It was the, 'she said needs you' part that did it, I think," Tara replied as they began to walk. "Nicely done."

"Thanks, sweetie," Willow replied, grabbing her girlfriend's hand giving it a squeeze.

They walked in silence for a few moments until Tara ventured quietly, "That demon Spike was talking to when we came in had him kind of spooked, didn't it?"

Willow sighed and nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought," she admitted. "He looked kinda dazed but angry, it was odd. And I just know Spike was lying when he said that wasn't who he and Buffy were looking for…I mean…hello?…not blind…pretty darn ugly demon guy, standing right there." She sighed again then frowned. "And did you hear his parting shot?" she asked before adopting a deep voice to say, "I'll be seeing you, Vampire."

"Yeah, definite threat," Tara agreed. "I think we should let Giles know. It should help with his cross referencing now we know what we're looking for."

Willow nodded. "Let's go now. If this guy has Spike worried then I think we should try and find out exactly what he's capable of."

As they hurried away, they failed to notice the figure staring after them from out of the shadows. "Don't worry, Witch, you'll have your answers soon enough when your pet vampire is nothing but dust trickling through your fingers," Fen muttered spitefully. With one last malevolent glare at their retreating backs, he turned around and headed back inside Willy's. There was still his hunger to sate.

END CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10 - Interruptions

Buffy looked around the crypt then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Everything seemed to be in place. Candles were lit. Floor was clean. Blanket was folded up, ready to be used later. Blood and alcoholic refreshments for Spike in a cooler behind the sarcophagus in the back, along with diet soda for her - wouldn't do to be drunk - and now all she had to do was wait for her potential lover to turn up. By her reckoning, she had maybe another fifteen minutes or so before he made an appearance and she felt her nerves jangle in anticipation.

Willow's idea to trick Spike into coming out to the secluded tomb echoed of the attempt the vampire made to get the Slayer, herself, on a date a couple of months previously.

"Spike will see right through it, Will," Buffy had argued dubiously. "He did almost the exact same thing."

"I know!" the redhead had exclaimed with a huge grin. "That's why he'll never suspect a thing. Trust me. It’ll work like a charm."

“Yeah, a bad luck charm,” Xander had interjected dryly.

“Xander,” Willow had sighed in exasperation.

“No, seriously,” the carpenter had countered. “He’ll either totally ignore it cause he won’t let himself believe it or he realise what you’re trying to do and then ignore it because he’ll think he’s not worthy or something. I say stick with the punching.”

“Xander!” This time both Willow and Buffy said his name in frustration.

“What? I’m right!” He looked to his fiancée. “Right?”

“Yes,” Anya agreed with a nod. “Didn’t you say that you haven’t been physically abusing with him lately? No verbal either?” At the Slayer’s nod, she continued, “Well, I suggest you start if you want him to know how you feel. He probably thinks you’re not interested. You know how vampires react to violence. It’s foreplay.”

“Ok, Ahn, not really the support I was hoping for,” Xander had begun only to be cut off by Buffy’s groan of realisation as Anya’s words jogged her memory of another conversation.

“Of course! Third base! How could I have forgotten?”

“Uh-huh. You need to hit him at the very least,” Anya had commented ignoring Xander. “Although spanking would probably be a better option…”

“I take it all back! Will, your plan sounds great!” Xander had then suddenly enthused, successfully drowning Anya in the process. “Do you need us to do anything?”

Ignoring the ex demon’s scowl, Willow had shook her head. “No, Tara and I will make sure Spike turns up at the crypt and then it’s all down Buffy and her super feminine Slayer wiles to ensnare the angst filled, but still snarky, vampire.”

Buffy stiffened as a sound from outside suddenly forced itself in on her recollection. Holding still for a moment, she relaxed when she realised that it was probably just some animal snuffling around in the overgrown bushes. Letting out a sigh, she mentally ran over her planned greeting for Spike and hoped that would be enough to break the ice. If not then she had a back-up plan that she was absolutely certain…well, very hopeful anyway…would work.

Self consciously smoothing down her skirt, she glanced around the tomb once more then walked over to a sarcophagus in the corner and opened her purse. Pulling out a stake, she clutched it tightly in her hand then turned back to the door and waited for Spike.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“If one of those vamp’s hasn’t already done her in, I’ll bloody kill her myself,” Spike muttered to himself as he came to a stop outside the entrance of Rosewood cemetery. It was one of the older graveyard’s in Sunnydale and as such, it hardly ever had any beastly goings on, the latter generations of demon much preferring the newer grave sites.

Bringing forth his demon, he entered the sacred ground at a trot and swung his head from side to side sniffing the air for the Slayer’s familiar scent. “Damn nuisance, she is,” he began to mumble to himself again, channelling his fear for her safety into an anger he could use in the fight ahead. “Always going off half-cocked, thinking she’s bloody invincible. Got a soddin’ death wish, that’s what she’s got. Can’t even wait five bleedin’ minutes for me to bleedin’ get here and watch her bleedin’ back!”

A soft breeze wafted through the cemetery and brought the vampire to a sudden halt as a trace of Buffy’s scent reached his nose. Emitting a low growl, he followed her aroma towards the back of the graveyard until he was stood outside a largish crypt. Looking above the door, he saw the name, ‘Sherman’, written in Victorian script and rapidly made his way to the entrance.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tingles of sensation ran up her back and exploded pleasurably in her neck as Buffy's 'spidey' sense kicked in, letting her know Spike was somewhere nearby. Why had she never noticed before how different the tingly's were when it was him instead of some random vamp? The fingers of awareness that wrapped around her nerve endings were always so much more rapid in their rush to heighten her alertness, more intense.

Of course, she knew that the reason she’d never noticed was the simple fact that she didn’t want to. Being able to single him out implied that she had feelings that she wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. The same feelings that she once had for the only other vampire in her life she’d been able to recognise the exact same way. Angel.

Thinking of her ex brought a small smile to her face and the knowledge that she still had to tell him about her newfound love. Truth be told, she’d been holding out on calling him because she wasn’t quite sure what to say. He’d left her to be happy with someone ‘normal’, whatever the hell that was, and phoning him to say that she’d fallen for another vampire…not to mention that it was Spike of all people…well, she just knew that that was going to go down like a lead balloon. They hated each other with a vengeance.

The sudden sound of footsteps outside brought her out of her internal ponderings and her grip on the stake she was holding, tightened. Moving closer to the door, she raised the wooden weapon and crouched down slightly, readying herself for his entrance.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Desperate to get into the crypt and give Buffy whatever back-up she needed, Spike grabbed the handle and gave it a sharp twist, opening the door. Rushing into the dimly lit tomb, the first thing that hit him was the resounding silence which caused him to pull up short in surprise.

The second thing that hit him was an unexpected foot to the chest that sent him sprawling onto the floor of the crypt before he’d barely had any chance to register the lit candles that were dotted around the tomb. Because the attack had caught him unawares, he was unprepared for the impact and let out a loud growl, squeezing his eyes shut in pain as his head cracked harshly against the unrelenting concrete.

Momentarily stunned, he struggled to sit up but was stopped when the weight of someone landed heavily on his stomach, straddling him. Digging their knees into his arms, he then felt a hand wrap tightly around his throat and push him back down to the floor. The tip of a stake being pressed firmly against his chest coincided with him gathering up enough of his scattered wits to recognise the scent of the person that had him pinned.

“Slayer, it’s me!” Spike choked out. His golden eyes shot open in panic and was immediately greeted by the unexpected, but not unwelcome, sight of Buffy’s cleavage as she bent over him.

“Spike?!” she replied in wide eyed surprise.

At least, Spike assumed she was wide eyed. He hadn’t been able to drag his gaze away from the tantalising view of her breasts mere inches from his face. As she breathed, each rise and fall of her chest caused it to strain desperately against a flimsy piece of dark material that she probably called a blouse.

His own body hardened in response as he watched in fascination when she breathed in again. If he just stuck out his tongue he’d be able to run it all the way down that deep cleft…

“I’m sorry,” she said, her contrite voice breaking into his little fantasy. “I thought it was a vamp coming through the door.” She sat up and pulled the stake away from the place above his heart then shifted her legs slightly so that he regained control of his arms once more. “Did I hurt you?”

Disappointment at her removing his view was such that it took Spike a couple of seconds for what she’d said to sink in. When it did, he felt a self-righteous anger slowly start to course through his veins. How dare she sit there and speak to him in that pitying tone. He was a Master Vampire for Christ’s sake! William the Bloody! The Big Bad! Scourge of Europe! Not some weakling ponce of a twit with half a brain. He twisted his demonic visage in disgust. Had it really come to this? Even the Slayer was feeling sorry for him now? The only thing left that could possibly make his unlife completely unbearable right now would be to have the whelp walk in and offer him a hand up! God, he really was a waste of space!

Suddenly fed up with his entire existence, Spike shook out his aching arms and gave a derisive snort. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

“I wasn’t…”

“And I know it’s easy to forget, me being neutered and all, but technically, I am still a vampire, luv.” He pointed to his game face. “Look, fangs and everything.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“And yes, you did bloody well hurt me!” he continued, his voice rising with each sarcastic sentence. “You knocked me over and I cracked my head on the soddin’ floor! It’s not exactly going to tickle, is it?”

“Let me see.”

Before he knew what was happening, she dropped the stake on the ground beside him, bent forward again and placed her hands on either side of his head. Unsure of her intentions exactly, he immediately tensed and was about to open his mouth in protest when her hands started moving. Ever so slowly, she pushed her fingers through his soft blond hair, her touch tender, yet firm, as she checked for any signs of a possible wound.

Of their own accord, Spike’s eyes drifted closed and he felt his demon recede, along with his flare of anger, as he gave himself over to the sensation of her hands gently massaging his scalp.

“Tell me when it hurts,” Buffy murmured.

Spike forced his now blue eyes open and stared back deeply into the hauntingly green depths of those of the woman he loved, trying to read her expression. It was that moment that Spike wondered if the knock to his head was worse than he'd imagined and in reality, he was laying there out cold while the Slayer was bent over him slapping his face…if she'd even bothered to stay at all.

What other possible reason could there be for why she was doing this unless it was all down to his own fevered desires? He didn't deserve her administrations. Especially after the way he'd just spoken to her.

Her fingers continued their gentle movements and his hands curled into fists at his sides as he desperately tried to stop himself from touching her back. This was wrong…so why did it feel so right. 'No!' he told himself firmly, 'Not right. Never right.' He had to stop her. Right now. Before he didn’t have the strength to push her away.

He opened his mouth to say something but, as if sensing his inner turmoil, Buffy purposefully moved her hands around the back of his head. The seemingly casual movement was enough to bring the top half of her body flush against his, sending a jolt of awareness straight to his loins, hardening him even further.

Mouth shutting with a snap as he bit back a groan, his resolve took a further nosedive when her some of her hair fell forward to brush and settle either side of his head, effectively providing a curtain from the outside world. Its clean, fruity aroma mixed in with the scent of the Slayer’s own growing arousal assailed his nostrils, causing them to flare and he fought back the urge to nuzzle into its silky softness.

Not right.

Spike closed his eyes in an effort to try and resist the primal urges that were coursing through his very being but she was everywhere. Her warm breath on his face, her soft touch in his hair, her heated body against his. Opening his eyes, he glanced down in time to see her take another breath, the action forcing her chest to expand. With her surrounding him so completely, it looked, for a moment, as though she were naked. Control finally snapping, his hands began to move. He needed to touch her. Now. And to hell with the consequences.

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Fen tugged on the hand of the beautiful woman that walked alongside him through the cemetery and smiled as she glanced over at him. It had taken him exactly five minutes to persuade her to leave with him. A record, even for his standards. And being a Shilpa demon, her teleportation skills were second to none meaning that they’d reached this secluded graveyard in mere seconds. All in all, not a bad considering how the vampire had slipped through his fingers for a second time not long before.

"Why don't we sit down over here?" he suggested, indicating the bench he and his companion were almost level with.

She gave a small sniffle then nodded her acceptance as she let him lead her to the seat. Once they were settled, she looked at him again and offered a tiny smile. "It's good of you to listen to me," she told him in her softly accented voice.

Fen took in her ethereal countenance; the slight upturn of her yellow eyes, her dainty nose and generous mouth, all capped with long lengths of blonde hair that fell to her waist. She truly was exquisite.

He sighed. "Look at me,” he requested softly. She did as he asked and his gaze locked with hers. “I can do more than listen to you, if you'll let me, Azura," he promised, looking at her intently. “I can make it feel better.” He reached out a hand and gently laid it against her cheek. “Would you let me do that for you?”

She waited a beat then slowly nodded her head. She just wanted her heartache to end.

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Buffy was just beginning to think she was going to have to be even more forward in her advances when she felt Spike’s hands tentatively touch her knee’s.

Finally!

This hadn’t been what she’d planned when she’d knocked him down but the feel of his hard body under her, coupled with the excuse of checking for a head wound, had been too good an opportunity to pass up.

Letting out a soft sigh, she increased the pressure of her hands slightly, silently telling him that she liked what he was doing. In answer, he raised his eyes to hers then pressed his palms more firmly against her stocking clad legs before slowly moving his hands up her thighs until they came in contact with the lacey tops. Eyes widening, his hands paused briefly on their upward path to stroke a thumb caressingly along the raised material causing her breath to hitch and body tremble slightly as her heartbeat picked up even more speed.

His hands continued to roam higher, passed the lace and upwards until they reached the soft silkiness of her skin and for a fleeting moment, as he lay there beneath her, Spike wished he could see what he was touching.

Her stockings had been a surprise, especially since he'd expected the satiny material to actually be tights. Not that he was complaining. The smooth run up her legs that was broken by the gentle roughness of the lace, only to be followed by the even softer texture of her skin had him almost panting with desire. He could feel the heat coming off her in waves now and, eyes still locked with each other’s, he gave her thighs a hard squeeze. In response she jerked slightly then pressed down more firmly onto his chest, her pupils dilating dramatically as her grasp on his head tightened.

Spike watched in fascination as her pink tongue darted out to run along her parted lips letting out a soft moan that caused his hips to buck involuntarily up against her.

She gasped then gave him a purely feminine smile. “Is that where it hurts?” she asked softly as she returned the pressure of his thrust. “Want me to rub it better?”

'Hell yes!' Spike wanted to yell out but his brain, obviously in shock, had shut down his vocal chords and he'd lost all capacity for speech. After a couple more unsuccessful attempts, he finally croaked out, "Buffy, I…"

Whatever he'd been about to say was suddenly drowned out by the sound of a truly bloodcurdling scream echoing throughout the crypt, shattering the intimate moment into a thousand pieces.

They both tensed and stared at each other in surprise for a second then Buffy grabbed her stake and scrambled to her feet as quick as she could. "I have to go help," she said unnecessarily before heading for the door.

Spike lay where he was for a moment attempting to subdue his overwrought body while trying to figure out what the hell had just happened between the two of them. Cursing inwardly at the interruption, he stood up with fluid grace and followed the Slayer out of the door.

She hadn’t gone far and turned to him as he approached. “I can’t see or hear anything. You?”

The vampire tested the air for a few seconds then frowned. “Over there,” he said, gesturing to their right. “Not right sure what it is but it’s not human and after that scream, I doubt it’s breathing.”

“Neither do I but we should go look just in case,” Buffy replied, shooting him a regretful glance. At his nod, she stalked off mentally berating living on the Hellmouth and being subjected to its consistent bad timing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Giles got up from the couch and walked over to the door. “Yes, alright, I'm coming,” he called irately as the rapping of knuckles came again. As soon as he opened the door, Willow and Tara walked passed him and into his living room. "What…?"

"Giles, we think we saw the ugly demon tonight," Willow cut him off excitedly.

"Really?" he asked, pushing the door closed and turning towards the two women. "Where?"

"We saw him at Willy's when we went get Spike," the redhead explained. "And I've gotta say, ugly doesn't even begin to describe him. On the Repulsive-o-meter, he rates a clear one hundred and sixteen."

"And then some," Tara concurred with a nod.

"Did Spike confirm it was indeed the demon he'd seen before?" the Watcher queried with interest.

Willow and Tara shared a quick look before turning back to Giles. "Uh, Spike had, uh, just left when the, uh, ugly guy turned up, so, no, he didn't confirm," the redhead lied, shooting another glance at her girlfriend.

Tara nodded her agreement. "T-t-that's right. No c-confirming," she corroborated, her stutter coming out in full force as, she too, fibbed to the Watcher.

"Yes, well, if you think this could be the demon we're after then at least we have some idea of what he could look like now," Giles mused aloud, too caught up in the possibility of solving his research problem to notice the witches less than eloquent recitation of supposed events.

"Yes!" Willow agreed wholeheartedly. "Books, research, find. Not a problem. Should we go to the Magic Box now?"

"Actually, I've brought some books home with me, so…"

"Even better," the redhead interrupted enthusiastically as she took of her coat and placed it over the back of his couch. Looking around the room and drawing a blank, she turned back to Giles and asked, "Where are they?"

"In my room. I'll just go and get them," the Watcher replied. Gesturing to the kitchen, he added, "Help yourselves to a drink and something to eat. I shan't be a minute."

They watched him walk out of the room then turned to each other and both let out a long sigh.

"We're doing the right thing, aren't we?" Willow asked her lover plaintively.

"Sure we are, sweetie," Tara answered reassuringly. She reached up and cupped the redhead's face lovingly. "I don’t think Giles would be very understanding if we'd told him that Spike was actually talking to the guy."

"Or that he got all avoidy and denial guy afterwards either," Willow added as she placed her hand over Tara's and leaned gently into it with a smile. "Best we try and talk to Spike ourselves. Let him know that we heard the threat and see if he tells us what's going on."

Tara nodded then leaned in and gave Willow a tender kiss, only pulling back when she heard Giles returning. "Time to hit the books," she said with a grin.

"Oh, goody," the redhead replied, the excitement evident in her voice and features. "I'll go make us a drink and then we can make a start on finding the uber ugly."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy let out a long sigh and cursed her luck as she stared down at the corpse at her feet. When she'd decided to use this cemetery, it was because of notable lack of demon presence within the area. She certainly hadn’t expected to find another victim of the recent apparently self-inflicted deaths.

"And baby makes three," Spike commented sardonically as he looked up from his crouched position to where Buffy stood at his side.

Big mistake.

Once they’d left the crypt, Spike had got his first good look at the Slayer and any thoughts of attempting to calm his raging libido had flown clear out the window for the next six months…at least.

Realising that Buffy was staring back down at him, he quickly tried to drop his gaze but his eyes defied his brain and lingered over her top. The fitted satin look material was black inlaid with red, the colour most predominant was dependant on the amount of moonlight that bounced off the iridescent garment.

Cut low at the front, its boned, tight fitting bodice showed off her chest to its fullest advantage. The sleeves were short and split down the middle to fall in loose folds at the top of her arms. The back was also cut low and had a single long, string lace that zig-zagged across the middle expanse of the material acting as a lace-up that when tied into the neat bow it was now, pulled the garment even tighter.

If that wasn't enough for the poor vampire to take in, the top then finished just above her navel leaving her tanned, highly toned and extremely touchable stomach blatantly on display.

Still ignoring his brain, his eyes dropped further down her body until it rested on her black, soft suede, skirt that stopped just below her knees and rode low on her hips. Each side had a split up to mid thigh that allowed him to catch a glimpse of her lacey topped stockings as she walked.

All in all her choice of clothing left little to the imagination…well…his imagination anyway.

"So another one that looks like suicide," she stated, breaking into his thoughts and finally bringing his gaze to her face once more.

He watched as she flipped some of her long hair over her shoulder exposing the smooth line of her neck. His eyes locked onto the point where her pulse throbbed against her skin then swallowed hard before tearing his gaze away and nodding curtly. "Looks like," he replied, standing up and taking a couple of steps back to a safer distance before reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes. He needed something to occupy his hands before he gave into the temptation to touch her.

"But you still don't think so, do you?" she questioned with a frown.

He put a cigarette to his mouth then lit it and exhaled the smoke before glancing in her direction. He knew without a doubt that Fen had something to do with the murdered female laying between them, there were still traces of his scent on the body and lingering in the air. He also knew that he didn’t want Buffy getting involved. Fen’s magic was strong and he didn’t want her anywhere near him. Time for some evasive action.

"Got no evidence to prove otherwise," he finally answered with a shrug. He looked back down at the corpse pointing to the cuts on the ankles. "A Shilpa demon's essence is in its feet. That's the way they'll do themselves in every time. Slashing the ankles is just like humans slashing their wrists except instead of blood pouring out, it’s their spirit."

Buffy carefully stepped over the dead female's body and bent down to get a closer look. The movement caused her skirt to tighten across her backside and, unable to resist, Spike tilted his head slightly and studied the view with a small smile.

"But again, there doesn't appear to be a struggle," she commented before straightening up and looking back at the vampire who had resumed his impassive expression. "You said something about the essence being taken? Do you think that's what we've been missing here? Rather than the blood it's been all about their essence's instead?"

"Could be," Spike replied slowly as he stiffened imperceptibly, his senses suddenly alerting him to the fact that something…someone was watching them. Not noticing the change in him, Buffy made a contemplative sound, then looked back down at the dead demon, allowing Spike to furtively scan the surrounding area in an attempt to pinpoint the location of the unwelcome presence.

Just as in the alley, it stayed on the edges of his awareness and, with sudden clarity, the vampire knew that Fen was still around. 'Cheeky bugger,' he thought to himself as he tried to damp down the fear that was beginning to rise. He didn't want a confrontation with Buffy around. If anything happened to her and he couldn't stop it…

"I'll talk to Giles in the morning and see what he thinks," the Slayer was saying as her voice broke into his thoughts causing him to refocus on her once more. “I just want to do one more quick sweep…”

"No!" Spike interjected sharply then, at her sudden frown, he hastened to add, “I mean, it’s late, you don’t want to miss more of the whelp’s party than you already have, do you?” Before she could respond, he flicked his cigarette butt away then bent over and picked up the lifeless body. Hefting it over his left shoulder, he said, "I'll just get rid of this and you can be on your merry way." He began to walk off hoping that she'd follow him. It worked.

She let out a loud huff and started trailing after him. He slowed his pace so that she could catch up and then shot her a glance. She looked annoyed but if it kept her safe, he was happy.

Buffy walked by his side inwardly seething with frustration. This night wasn't turning out how she'd hoped or Willow planned. They'd been so close in the crypt and now they were back to square one again. Spike had seemed so receptive earlier but was now pushing her away again and she was seriously considering Anya's suggestion and saying, what the hell, before letting him know that she knew everything, punching him in the face, then shagging his brains out until he couldn't walk straight. The whole guilt trip thing could be dealt with afterwards.

Except, she somehow recognised that it wouldn't. For once, taking it slow seemed to be the way to go with Spike. She'd realised that in the tomb when she'd virtually had to coax a reaction out of him.

Okay. Take it slow. Keep it sneaky. And get him the heck back to that crypt so we can finish what I started.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced over at his set features then spoke, keeping her tone light. “So,” she said, breaking the silence that had settled over them as they trudged to the exit of the cemetery. “Once you’ve got rid of the body, how about coming along with me to the Bronze?”

Anticipating his usual refusal, Buffy casually raised a hand to her right ear. Being that she was walking on his right, he didn’t notice when she surreptitiously gave a tug on the golden hoop that was attached to her lobe and grasped it in her palm.

“I think I’d better head on back…” Spike began, only to quieten when the Slayer let out a cry of dismay. “What’s wrong?” he queried coming to an abrupt halt and looking around half expecting to see Fen's hideous features grinning back at him from out of the night.

“I’ve lost my earring,” Buffy replied with a tut. “It was one of my favourites too. I bet I lost it in that crypt.”

The vampire relaxed then sighed irritably and began moving again, wanting to get her out of the area quickly. “You've got loads of baubles, Slayer, surely one little earring's not going to make a difference.”

“But these are special,” she insisted, her bottom lip starting to jut out as she jogged slightly to catch up with his suddenly faster pace. She grabbed his arm and brought him to a halt, pulling him around so that they faced one another. Giving him a pleading look through her lashes, she pushed her lip out further and coaxingly said, "They were a present."

"Slayer…"

"Come on, it'll only take a few seconds to go back and check," she persisted. She was about to turn away when she noticed Spike's eyes suddenly widen in alarm at something he saw over her shoulder. "Spike? What?"

"Buffy, duck!" the vampire ordered urgently.

She responded immediately and dropped to a crouch, feeling the disturbance of the air as something whizzed over her head. She looked up in time to see Spike jerk backwards, a taloned hand missing his face by mere inches. Pushing herself up, she stood next to Spike and turned around to face their assailant.

END CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11 - Battling

"Oh crap," Buffy muttered as her gaze took in the five hulking Monu demons that were spread out around them effectively cutting off any hope of escape. And of getting back to the crypt any time soon. That fact alone ticked her off more than anything else.

"Sorry, luv," Spike suddenly murmured from beside her.

She looked up at him, her eyebrow arched questioningly. "For what?"

"For getting you involved with this twit," he replied in a low voice, slightly inclining his head towards the Monu who had taken a swing at them. "Reckon he’s here for some payback for the other night and looks like he’s brought some friends."

Before Buffy could comment, the aforementioned demon, spoke. "I see the Slayer’s taking you out for a walk herself tonight, Spike. Does she clean up after you as well?"

The vampire let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. "Oh, change the bloody record, you prat," he ground out dismissively. "Either just do this or sod off. Got places to be."

The Monu snorted angrily. "You got lucky last time but it won’t happen again. This time I’ll personally make sure I rip you in half." He shot the silent Slayer a nasty glance before looking back at Spike. "After you’ve watched us slice and dice your precious Slayer, that is."

"You know, Spike, you were wrong," Buffy began conversationally. At the vampires' questioning gaze, she continued, "These guys are even more stupider than they look."

"Luv, it’s probably not wise to agg…" Spike began, only to be cut off by the enraged Monu.

"I was going to make this quick for you, Slayer, but now I’ll make sure you feel every inch as I slowly carve my name in your gut," the demon hissed as he gestured for the rest of his gang forward.

"You can spell? I’m impressed," Buffy retorted, bringing forth the stake she still held in her hand.

With a roar, the Monu launched himself at the blonde only to be stopped halfway by the body of the Shilpa demon Spike had been carrying, slamming into him. He fell to the ground and ripped viciously through the body, tearing it asunder before standing once more. Turning to face the two blondes, he saw them already engaged in battle with the rest of his gang who had paired off and were taking them on two against one. Looking from one to the other, he took a determined step forward having decided which one he wanted to kill first.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Willow yawned widely then gave her girlfriend a tired smile. "I think I’m all researched out for tonight."

"Me too," agreed Tara, stifling her own yawn.

"Yes, let’s call it a night, shall we?" Giles suggested as he removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. "We can reconvene at the Magic Box tomorrow morning if you’re available? We may find what we’re looking for in one of the books there."

Willow nodded then closed the tome in front of her and raised her arms in a stretch. "Good idea. About nine-ish?"

"Fine," the Watcher replied, putting his glasses back on and standing.

Willow and Tara grabbed their coats and put them on then went to the door. Giles followed and opened it for them, standing aside so they could exit. "I’ll…uh…I’ll leave it to you to contact Buffy, shall I? he asked as they stepped over the threshold, his relief almost palpable when the redhead immediately nodded her head. The last thing he needed was to phone his charge first thing in the morning only to have Spike answer. Some things were better left ignored.

"Yeah, I’ll call her before we go to the store," Willow replied, turning to look at him.

He nodded and gave her a tired, but grateful, smile. "Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Night, Giles," the girls answered then headed off home.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Spike stepped to the side, dodging a lunging Monu and delivered an upper cut that stunned it sufficiently for the vampire to gain a choking headlock. The second demon he was fighting got up off the ground, from where Spike had laid him out moments before, and took a run at him but the blond used the captured demon’s head as a battering ram and the demon found himself flat on his back once more. Just as Spike snapped his Monu’s neck, he heard Buffy yell a warning but it was too late. The leader smacked into him from behind causing Spike to tumbled over.

Already having despatched one of her foes, Buffy quickly drove her stake into the neck of the second and hurried over to help her love. The leader was standing over the fallen vampire and had just raised his arm to deliver a fatal blow when she kicked his legs out from under him.

Spike rose gracefully to his feet and spun around to face the other remaining Monu while Buffy continued to fight the leader. Punches and kicks were traded while talons were dodged until Spike finally managed to turn his adversary’s hand in on himself thus impaling the Monu on his own talons. As he sank to the ground with a gurgled cry, the sudden pained yelp of the Slayer had the vampire spin around in panic.

"Buffy!" he exclaimed urgently, his stomach twisting as his senses were assailed by the sight and scent of her blood as she lay prone on the ground a couple of yards away. "No!"

Before the leader even had time to glance over at the vampire, he was tackled to the ground and sharp teeth were viciously tearing into his neck. Spike eventually pulled back and stared down at the dying Monu, his bloodied mouth twisting into a sadistic smile. "Don’t worry. Not gonna finish you off." He tilted his head slightly to one side, his smile widening to reveal his elongated incisors to their maximum effect. "Just gonna let you lie there so can feel your pathetic excuse of an existence drip away." He pushed a finger into one of the jagged puncture wounds in the Monu’s neck and moved it around, opening the hole up even further causing the demon to cry out in pain. Removing his bloodied finger, Spike held it up in front of the Monu’s face and pointed it downwards so that the viscous fluid started to fall off the end. "Drip, drip, drip," he said each time a drop of blood landed onto the leader’s face.

The Monu’s breathing grew harsher as Spike then used his chest to push himself up to stand and, with one last hateful glare, hurried over to Buffy. "Where are you hurt?" he asked in concern, his demon automatically receding as he dropped to his knees and helped the injured Slayer as she struggled to sit up.

"My arm," she replied, wincing as she used her left hand to lift her right arm up to his gaze. "Just a scratch. No biggie."

Spike’s eyes widened in alarm as he took in the deep ragged gashes that adorned the inside of her arm just below her elbow. The flow of blood was already beginning to slow and he couldn’t stop the surge of longing that raced through his body at the heady delights in front of him. Fighting his internal demon, his eyes tracked the wound down towards her hand and any thoughts of her taste fled when a bolt of absolute terror sliced through him. The Monu had come close to hitting the artery at her wrist. Too close. Another few millimetres and…He broke off the thought and swallowed hard. This was all his fault.

Damping down the fresh wave of guilt that accompanied the latest addition to his ever growing list of failures, he commented dryly, "Just a scratch, eh? What would your arm hanging off by a piece of stretched skin be classed as then? A slight cut?"

"More of a nick, actually," she countered just a dryly as he helped her get to her feet. "It’d have to be totally sliced off and me hitting you over the head with it to get anywhere near being called a cut."

Despite his worry over her injury, Spike couldn’t help the quirk of his lips at her wry demeanour. Gotta love that Slayer spirit. Gotta love her, period.

"Come on, Slayer, let’s get you back to my place where I can get you sorted," he offered, taking a step towards the exit.

"Chance would be a fine thing," she muttered to herself as she started after him, ignoring the weak groaning that was coming from the rapidly expiring Monu and the keen stinging sensation that encompassed her right arm.

"What was that?" the vampire asked abruptly, turning his head to look at her with narrowed, faintly quizzical eyes.

Apart from a slight widening of her eyes, Buffy covered well. Remember the super enhanced hearing you idiot, she mentally admonished herself before answering the other blond. "Um…I said I wanted to go find my earring."

The vampire looked heavenward and rolled his eyes. "I’ll come back later, alright?" he told her sharply. "Now, let’s get moving, shall we?"

Knowing not to push it further, she resigned herself to the fact that phase two had been a resounding flop thanks to the Hellmouth’s many ironic little surprises. So, with Willow’s plan thoroughly out of the window she only had one option left. Time for Buffy to start thinking on her feet.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Fen followed the battered couple out of the cemetery and watched them head off down the sidewalk. At least, now he knew who was causing the blond so much emotional pain. It would prove a valuable asset when he finally got him alone.

He sighed and, after one last look at the couple, turned away. Who would have thought that a vampire would be so completely in love with the Slayer? Oh, the sweet irony of it all. More than ever, this reaffirmed his job in life.

And if there was one thing he took seriously, it was his work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Spike pushed open the door to his crypt and ushered the Slayer inside, guiding her over to his chair. Seeing her settled, he hastened over to the hole in the floor that led to the lower level and jumped down. Within seconds, he was back by her side carrying various bandages, some gauze and a bottle of antiseptic.

"This’ll probably sting a bit," he advised as he knelt by her feet and tipped some of the fluid onto the gauze. Taking her hand in his, he turned it palm side upwards then rested her arm on the arm of the chair and began to gently dab around the tears in her flesh.

Even though he was being careful, the first touch of the antiseptic seeping into her wounds caused Buffy to tense and draw a sharp breath. Spike glanced up and gave her an apologetic smile before bending his head back to his task. Diligently, he cleaned up every bit of the congealed blood that surrounded the gashes, all the while steeling himself against the feelings of remorse that flooded through him every time he heard her gasp or felt her flinch in pain.

Putting down the sullied gauze, he cast an experienced eye over the wound and looked up at her regretfully. "Could need stitches," he informed her quietly.

The Slayer’s reaction was instantaneous. "No! It’ll be fine. Just bandage me up," she replied with a shake of her head, the thought of going to a hospital lighting a spark of fear in her eyes. "Please," she whispered when it seemed as though he might argue the point. He held her gaze for a moment longer then gave a brief nod of assent. Picking up the not-so-white dressing he’d pilfered from somewhere, he then began wrapping it firmly around her arm.

She watched his nimble fingers as they smoothed over the binding, checking that it wasn’t too tight and was reminded of the feel of his hands as they glided over her thighs earlier that evening. The rush of wetness between her legs was immediate as was the way her body temperature rapidly rose, suffusing her in a warm glow. Eyes still on the vampire, she noticed him pause for a second in his ministrations, almost as though he knew, then carry on his movements until he ripped the end of the dressing a couple of inches down the middle before tying the ends off into a neat little bow.

"How’s that feel?" he asked, keeping his gaze averted even though his hand still held hers lightly.

"Good," she replied, willing him to look up at her. The husky tone of his voice told her that was aware of her arousal and she wanted nothing more to act upon it but she remembered, just in time, her vow to go slow with him…God dammit!

"Good," he repeated, still not looking at her but seemingly unable to let go of her hand either.

"Spike?" The soft sound of his name brought his gaze to her face and she smiled warmly. "Thank you," she said before leaning forward and pressing her lips lightly against his in an act that was reminiscent of the time after Glory’s torture.

Then, as now, when she pulled back, Spike simply stared at her with a mixture of confusion and amazement. She smiled at him again and gradually, his dazed expression cleared to be replaced by something more intense. Something that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Pure adoration blazed in the cerulean depths, drawing her in and igniting the answering spark that she had been keeping at bay for this one particular moment.

His gaze dropped to her lips and his grip on her hand tightened momentarily before loosening to begin slowly sliding up her arm. His other hand lifted and reached out to gently cup her face.

‘Yes! Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!’ she thought frantically, her breathing growing heavy as her tongue darted out, moistening her lips in anticipation.

Focussed solely on her mouth, her involuntary action caused Spike's own lips part slightly as he slowly moved forward. Just as their lips were about to touch, his hand ran over her wound causing her to draw in a sharp breath as she automatically grimaced at the sudden jolt of pain.

Spike froze, his eyes snapping up to meet hers as the guilt crashed over him once more. 'Your fault she's in pain,' his brain reminded him nastily. 'If you'd fought better, Buffy wouldn't be sitting here with her arm ripped to piece's. Failure. Useless. No right to touch. Not your world…'

"No!" he said curtly as he drew back from the Slayer and stood up, taking a couple of steps away in the vain hoping that distancing himself would somehow dispel the taunting going on in his head.

"Wha…?" Buffy said as she blinked dazedly, trying to comprehend the fact that he’d suddenly moved away. She looked up at him and saw that his features had perfectly sculpted into an impassive mask leaving her to wonder if she’d merely imagined his heated look not seconds before.

"Arm’s bandaged, Slayer," Spike was saying as the fog in her brain cleared. "Guess you should be going now."

"Going?" she repeated blankly.

"Harris and his bird’s party at the Bronze," he reminded her flatly, head down. "Be a shame to waste the outfit."

Buffy stood up slowly and took a step towards him, noting that he immediately took one back. She stopped and stared at him. "You really want me to go?" she asked softly.

"Doesn’t matter what I want," he replied quietly.

"Of course it does," she refuted taking another step forward only to have him move away again. Frowning, she quickly replayed the last couple of minutes back over in her mind and tried to figure out what had caused his sudden withdrawal. It came to her in a rush and her gaze softened at her realisation. "Spike, listen to me, this wasn't your fault," she told him, holding up her injured arm. "It was mine for not getting out of the way quick enough."

"Wasn't your fight," he stated adamantly. "Shouldn't have been involved in the first place. Should've just left me."

"Left you?" she repeated dubiously. "Alone? Against five Monu demons? Are you kidding me?"

The vampire bristled at her disbelieving tone and straightened up to look at her. "Could've took 'em," he retorted huffily.

"Yeah, right, and I would've been treading in bits of Spike for the next month," she countered sardonically, her temper starting to flare. Did he really think she thought so little of him that she’d actually leave him there?

"And no doubt it'd probably still be my fault for messing up your shoes," he muttered bitterly as he looked away in aggravation. Why the hell did he have to touch her bloody arm? He could be snogging her right this minute, maybe even more, but no; no, he had to go and have another attack of the guilts. Pathetic. Absolutely, pathetic.

Feeling her control start to slip, Buffy tried to cling onto it with both hands but failed miserably. She was sick and tired of playing the 'pretend I don't know' game and more than fed up with Spike's continuing remoteness. She'd had enough of abortive seduction attempts and as for reining her temper in? Not a hope in hell!

"Alright, that's it! I've had enough," she snapped, her tone furious. "I know all about your little guilt trip over Dawn and it’s so ridiculous!"

Spike stiffened and turned his narrowed gaze to hers as her admission penetrated his mental flagellation. "That right?" he drawled coolly.

"Yes!" she all but screamed in frustration.

"Why?" he demanded, a dangerous glint flaring in his eyes. "Cos a soulless demon like me can’t feel?" he accused in a clipped tone. His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Amazing how you always accepted my feelings of hate easily enough but when I flipped the coin over, all of a sudden I couldn’t have emotions! Love, hate, same coin, different sides, Slayer, no matter what you want to think."

"This isn’t about what I think…" she said heatedly.

"Wrong! It’s got everything to do with what you think…what you thought," he refuted coldly.

"God! You’re wallowing in so much self-pity, you can’t even begin to imagine what I’m thinking anymore, Spike," she told him angrily.

"Well, why don't you enlighten me then?" the vampire goaded mockingly, knowing he should stop but unable to keep his mouth shut. "Go on. Tell me how I failed to protect Dawn. Tell me how I failed to protect you."

"I don't need your protection…"

"No, you don't need anything from me, do you?" he interrupted harshly, his own temper coming to the fore as he lashed out, hurt by her quick dismissal of him. "Don't even know why you bother coming here anymore. Don't need you. Certainly don't need any of your bloody Scoobies poking their noses in my business. Got by just fine before and will do again." He turned away and strode over to the door of the crypt jerking it open before looking over at her expectantly.

Buffy stared back at him in dismay. She knew he didn't really mean what he'd said but that didn't make the words hurt any less. "You know, tonight sooo didn't go how I planned it and right at this moment, after what you've just said, I don't know what the hell I still see in you. You’re a stubborn-assed, totally blind, pig-headed, badly bleached, stupid old…old," her mind groped wildly for something cutting to say when one of Willow’s sayings flew into her head and straight out of her mouth. "Poophead!"

An eyebrow quirked at her name calling, but before the vampire could respond, the Slayer marched over to the door and stopped level with him. "Oh, and one more thing," she said brightly before hauling back and letting fly with her left arm, landing a hard punch square on his nose.

"OW! Bloody hell, woman!" he shouted as he cupped his hands over his nose, trying to stem the blood flow. Eyes watering from the pain, he barely made out the grim smile of satisfaction that graced Buffy's face before she turned on her heel and stalked out, closing the door behind her with a resounding slam.

Bollocks.

END CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12 - Closure

Willow dropped her bag on the floor and took off her coat with a sigh. Dropping it onto a nearby chair, she turned to Tara. "So looking forward to my bed tonight," she said with a wide yawn.

Her girlfriend, having shed her own coat, lowered her head slightly and smiled coyly as she looked at the redhead through her lashes. "Me too."

Willow froze mid stretch and gazed back at Tara, a slow smile appearing at the hint of promise in her lover's eyes. Suddenly, it hit her that they had the whole night ahead of them. A whole uninterrupted night ahead of them. Without another word, she turned to her bag and rooted through it until she pulled out her cell phone with a triumphant look and switched it off. Buffy was with Spike, Dawn was safe at her friends house and Giles had probably gone to bed. The only one left who could possibly ring was Xander and she wasn't about to be distracted at a crucial moment just because he decided to play one of lame prank phone call jokes on them.

Turning back to Tara, her smile widened into a grin as she walked over to where the blonde stood and pulled her into a heated kiss.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy's temper saw her all the way home until she entered her house where the emotion promptly dissipated, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth. Leaning back heavily against the front door, she closed her eyes and felt the regret of her actions wash over her. "Way to go, Buffy," she congratulated herself mockingly. "Got injured because you were careless then lost your temper and lost your man. Not bad for a nights work. Even for you."

Pushing away from the door, she flipped on the light switch and headed for the kitchen, picking up the phone on the way through. Entering the kitchen, she turned on the light then switched on the kettle. Flopping down onto a nearby stool, she punched in a number then held it to her ear. What she needed right now was a good old-fashioned, 'Men!' rant with her best friend.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Spike sniffed hard and pinched the bridge of his nose as he worked his jaw from side to side, trying the ease the throbbing that emanated from the centre of his face. "Bloody bint always goes for the soddin' nose," he grumbled irately as he walked over to the fridge and opened it up.

Bending over, he reached in and pulled out a bag of blood, then straightened and let the door swing shut. Ripping the bag open, he drank the contents down quickly, trying to minimise the unpleasant prospect of actually tasting any of the cold, bland fluid that he could. When he finished, he crumpled the plastic bag in his hand and threw it uncaringly over his shoulder.

Hunger somewhat appeased, he walked over to the chair in front of the television and sat down. On the small table to his left sat an almost empty bottle of whisky and shot glass. Pouring himself a drink, he downed it then poured another and sat back forcing himself to unclench his hand on the glass before he inadvertently crushed it as he tried to get a grip on his jumbled emotions. Jaw set, he stared unblinkingly at the switched off TV and tried to think of anything but a certain Slayer and the argument they'd just had.

Six and a half seconds he lasted…and that was only because he focussed on counting them off in his head. Six and a half pathetic seconds before the petite blonde forced her way into his thoughts as surely as she'd forced her way into his heart.

Knocking the second shot back, he poured the remaining alcohol into the tiny glass and grimaced when it only filled up to halfway. He needed to get more if his head were to make it through this night with anything vaguely resembling sanity.

It was all his fault, obviously. If he hadn’t spouted off to the witches in the first place then this wouldn’t have happened. Still…didn’t need her pity. Had quite enough of his own going on thank you very much. Something she had pointed out to him in no uncertain terms. Wallowing, she'd said and she was right. He was wallowing. And he was damned if he didn't know how to stop it.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his anger started to recede as he thought back over the past couple of weeks and for the first time felt a tiny spark of annoyance over what he suddenly realised he'd so glaringly become.

"I'm a bleedin' Angel clone!" he suddenly exclaimed aloud in disgust. "William the Bloody Great Poof, they'll be calling me soon."

Downing the half glass, he slammed it back down on the table next to him so hard that the legs gave way with a loud crack, sending the empty bottle and glass crashing to the floor. Ignoring the mess, he got up and started pacing around his crypt, his revulsion at the realisation he was even remotely near as broody as his grandsire only adding to his… well…brooding.

Coming to a stop by the chair, he glanced down at the broken glass and cracked table top upon which the used gauze still rested. He reached down and picked it up then stared at the patches of dried blood that covered it. Slayer's blood. Buffy's blood. The now familiar feeling of worthlessness started to rise up but Spike closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the emotion as his hand fisted tightly around the cloth.

"No, no, no," he ground out. Opening his eyes, he threw the gauze to the ground as if the very cloth were aflame and turned around, heading for the door. 'Get a drink. Get pissed. Get through tonight,' he thought to himself as his boot came in contact with something small on the ground and inadvertently kicked it a couple of feet in front of him. The light clinking sound and the brief flash of a shiny object bouncing across the stone floor caused him to halt abruptly and seek out the source.

Taking a step, he frowned then bent down and retrieved a piece of golden metal. Holding it up, he realised it was an earring. Buffy's earring judging by the scent that clung to it. 'Silly chit's lost both of them now,' was the first thought that ran through his mind but then his frown deepened. He was positive that she had still been wearing one when she stormed out of his crypt. His mind easily produced a picture of her turning to face him just before she delivered her punch. Her hair had swung out around her face, in exactly the way he loved, and he'd bet a thousand kittens that the twin to the piece of jewellery he now held was still safely attached to her ear.

So how did that explain this then? Shouldn't this be sitting gathering dust in the Sherman crypt? And talking of dust, considering there should have been a vamp nest there that Buffy had disposed of, he didn't recall seeing any telltale piles of remains from his, albeit, one quick glance around. He remembered candles. Lots of candles, but no dust. Odd.

Although he knew that things had got heated between them a couple of times tonight, he thought it'd been due to circumstance and his own weakness. Giving into his base urges when he had no right. Now, though, he began to wonder if there had been more to it than that. And if there was; what would that mean for him?

'Tonight, so didn't go how I planned it,' she'd said. 'Don't know what I still see in you.'

Words that could mean something, especially if he twisted them to his wishful way of thinking. Refocusing on the earring, he stared at it a moment longer, then put it into his duster pocket.

First things, first. Go to the Sherman crypt and take a look around. If he found another earring and piles of dusty remains…well…then, at least he'd be halfway to Willy's where he could get himself a bottle or four. But if he didn't…

The vampire refused to allow the thought to form and continued on his way to the door. He'd deal with that little quandary if the need arose.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy pressed a button on the phone with a tut, abruptly ending the automated voice that directed her to leave a message at the other end. "Great," she muttered in frustration at not being able to contact Willow.

Frowning, she tapped the handset against her bottom lip contemplating who to try next. Giles sprang to mind but she knew that he'd just get all embarrassed if she tried to discuss what had happened and probably stammer his way through a trite platitude that he didn't really mean in the first place.

It was too late to speak to Dawn, not that she particularly wanted to go down that road anyway, which left one other person. Xander. Buffy sighed. Not a normal choice for this sort of phone call but she needed to talk with a friend badly. Dialling his well known number, she placed the receiver to her ear and listened as it began to ring on the other end.

The bell trilled four times before going into their answering machine and Anya's voice filled her ear. "Hi. Xander and I aren't available at the moment, probably because we're either saving the world from another apocalypse or having sex. Either way, we won't get back to you for a long while so it's probably not worth you leaving a message."

The beep sounded and Buffy automatically spoke cheerily. "Xander, it's me. Don't worry, it's nothing important, I'll talk to you tomorrow." She was about to hang up when she brought the phone back to her ear and added dryly, "Oh, and Anya changed the message again." She cancelled the call and dropped the handset down on the work surface with a muttered curse.

The kettle clicked off behind her and, as she got up to make herself a drink, she briefly considered calling Dawn anyway but quickly decided against it. She didn't need a lecture about how much this situation was her fault from her little sister.

Drink made, she placed it on the counter top and sat back down on her stool. Grabbing up the phone, she held it out in front of her as a realisation of who else to ring began to take hold. Someone who knew Spike even better than she did. Someone who could maybe give her some insight into the workings of the vampire's mind. Someone who was going to hit the roof when she revealed her feelings for the bleached one. She rejected the idea several times mentally arguing that it was ridiculous but couldn't seem to shake the persistent little voice that egged her on to make the call. 'That'd be desperation,' her mind provided sarcastically. 'Or stupidity. Only things it can be if you're even considering this now.'

"Oh, what the hell," she mumbled to herself as she began to dial. "Gotta do this sometime anyway. Two birds, one stone."

The sound of ringing came down the line and Buffy took a couple of deep breaths as she tried to steady her suddenly erratic breathing. The ringing stopped and Buffy licked her dry lips nervously as a male voice greeted her. "Hello, Angel," she greeted in return. "It's me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The crypt loomed ahead of him and Spike hastened his pace torn between either confirming his suspicions or quashing them for good. He came to the door and after a moments’ hesitation, he lifted his hand and pushed the protesting wood slowly inwards. Three steps had him over the threshold and surveying the interior curiously.

Candles were dotted all over the tomb, their flickering light casting soft shadows about the room lending it a romantic ambience…to his mind anyway. Walking to the centre of the crypt, he crouched down and ran his hand along the floor. Lips pursed in concentration, he lifted his hand and rubbed his fingers together slowly.

Nothing. No vamp dust. Not even much dirt. Standing up, he took a slow walk around the tomb and noticed the considerable lack of cobwebs and thick layers of dust that were usually part and parcel of a long forgotten mausoleum.

"Well, I'll be…the whole bloody thing's been cleaned," he murmured in amazement. Investigating further, he found the blanket plus the cooler full of blood and soda behind a nearby sarcophagus. With startling clarity, Spike stood stock still and gazed dazedly in front of him. "She planned this," he said in an awed voice and then, moments later, his face twisted into a look of pure disgust. "I was right, the bloody chit planned this and I went and buggered everything up with my stupid pride. Once a git, always a git, eh, Spike?"

Shaking his head in self-annoyance, he abruptly turned and headed out of the door and into the night. Time for a little chat.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Buffy?" Angel queried in surprise, concern flooding his features moments later as he sat bolt upright. Calls from Buffy rarely boded well. "Is something wrong?"

"No…well, nothing apocalypse-y wrong," she hastened to assure him. "Just thought I’d call, you know, for a friendly chat."

The ensoulled vampire frowned slightly as he relaxed back into his chair. "A friendly chat?" he queried dubiously.

"Well, yeah," Buffy replied, suddenly realising that the pesky internal voice that goaded her on was definitely stupidity. "I mean, we’re friends, right? And we’re talking, so see? It’s all friendly chatting and stuff. I mean, I know we don’t do it that often…chatting, that is…but I always figured, you know, we could…"

"You’re babbling," Angel cut in, his amusement evident.

Buffy stopped talking and smiled wryly. "I am, aren’t I? Sorry."

"It’s okay," he replied, still a little confused as to why she’d called. He could tell she was nervous and for all her denial, he was certain that she’d called him for a reason. "So, was there anything in particular you wanted to chat about?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah," the Slayer admitted. "I’ve got something to tell you but I’m just not quite sure how I’m going to say it, that’s all."

In L.A., the dark-haired vampire could appreciate her predicament. There was something he’d been putting off telling her about as well. As soon as he’d heard her voice down the line, however, he knew he that he couldn’t let the opportunity slide any longer. "Actually, I’ve got something to tell you, too," he began.

"I know you’re not going to like it," Buffy continued as if he hadn’t spoken, building herself up to make her confession.

"It’s kind of awkward to explain," Angel said at the same time, so intent on finishing what he’d started that he didn’t pay attention when she resumed speaking.

"There’s this guy…"

"There’s a girl…"

"You know him, actually…"

"You know her…"

"Although, he’s probably the last person on earth you’d think of…"

"I don’t think you’ll ever guess…"

"He’s changed."

"She’s changed."

"There’s really only one way to say this…"

"Guess I should just come on out with it…"

"I’m in love with Spike."

"I’m in love with Cordy."

Silence descended over the line as both waited for the other’s response to their own revelation until they each suddenly realised what the other had said.

"You’re what?!" Buffy exclaimed loudly, bolting upright so quickly that she almost fell backwards off the stool. Grabbing a hold of the counter she harshly demanded, "Are you out of your mind?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" Angel retorted, partially stung by her incredulity and partly aghast at what she’d just admitted. "Spike for God’s sake? He’s evil, Buffy. You can’t trust him."

"I can," she refuted curtly. "He’d rather die than let anything happen to me or Dawn. Or any of the Scoobies if it comes to that."

The vampire snorted derisively. "Yeah, I’ll bet he’d be the first one to push Xander out of the way of an oncoming truck."

"Oh, like Cordelia can fit in saving the world between all the shopping, manicures and hair appointments," she countered sourly. "I can just see her now, axe raised, ready to strike then right at the last moment, shock, horror, she breaks a nail. Bye, bye, Angel. Bye, bye, world."

"At least she has a soul."

"That’s a matter of opinion," the Slayer said wryly.

Angel gritted his teeth angrily. "I told you, she’s changed."

"Yeah? Well, so has Spike."

"A vampire doesn’t change his fangs, Buffy."

The Slayer opened her mouth to make a cutting reply when what he said registered. Of its own volition, her lips curved up into a smile and she giggled, the silliness of the situation suddenly hitting her. "Oh my God, I can’t believe you actually just said that," she said as another chuckle escaped her mouth. "What are we arguing about? We’re both as bad as each other. I mean, you falling for Cordelia? Would never have seen that one coming in a million years."

Against his will, Angel found a smile tugging at his own lips as her apparent mirth filtered down the line. He could understand her shock. Cordelia wasn’t the…easiest of people to get along with. "Yeah, kinda took me by surprise too," he admitted with a smile as his mind conjured up a visual of his love.

"And me falling for Spike? Also not an obvious choice and if I’m honest, it’s not one I ever imagined would happen."

"Me either," he muttered with feeling. Then, unable to stop himself, he added, "And I still say you can’t trust him, Buffy. The chip is just a muzzle…"

"I know, I know," Buffy cut him off with a heavy sigh. "Believe me, Angel, there’s nothing you can say that the gang haven’t already said. Or that I haven’t told myself. It doesn’t matter. I love him and you’ll save yourself a lot of wasted breath if you just accept it." She frowned as she realised what she’d said. "Not that you have any breath to waste exactly…but you know what I mean." When he remained silent, she let out another heavy sigh. "Look, why don’t we just agree to disagree and get the heck on with our lives?" she suggested. "It’s not like it’s the first time we’ve made bizarre choices on who to love. I mean, look at us," she pressed softly.

"Probably not the best example," Angel commented dryly, finally breaking his silence. "But…I know what you mean."

They both lapsed into silence as they lost themselves in the painful memories of their doomed love affair until Buffy quietly asked, "Hey, if I said I wished you luck with Cordelia, would you do the same for me?"

"Would I wish you luck with Cordelia?" he repeated lightly. "Sure; although I doubt you’d get anywhere…she’s pretty into me you know."

Buffy chuckled. "I’m glad you’re happy," she remarked then frowned. "But, not too happy, right? I mean, how goes the soul and everything?"

"Wes came up with a spell that gives me with unpleasant mental images when I near to…uh…perfect happiness," he explained hesitantly.

The Slayer pulled a face. "Oh, that’s gotta be a downer," she said sympathetically, her eyes then widening slightly at her gaff. "Er…but not physically, I hope? Not that you have to answer that because, eww, so don’t need the imagery."

"To be honest, the spell’s only worked once," Angel admitted reluctantly. "It acts like a deterrent mostly. Now I know what I’ll see…well, let’s just say it’s not pretty."

"Wow…that’s…that’s great. I’m pleased for you. Both," she told him, ignoring the little pang of disappointment at the fact that they’d never managed to think of a spell like that when she was with him.

"Thanks," he replied.

"Well?" she asked, after a slight pause.

"Well, what?"

Another lengthy sigh. "Never mind. I guess I’d better just go," she muttered, flatly.

"Okay, okay," the vampire relented as he raised his eyes heavenwards. "As much as it pains me to say this…I…I’m…good luck with…Spike."

Even though he almost spat the blond vampire’s name, Buffy felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Everyone knew…except for Spike…and everyone was being supportive…well, in their own way of course. "Thanks, Angel. It means a lot."

"Yeah, well, if there’s any sort of comfort I can get from this, I guess it’s the fact that I know he won’t leave you…unless you want him to, that is. Never knew any vampire quite like William when it came to love," Angel told her quietly.

"Yeah, well, gotta be together first for him to leave me, right?" she replied dully.

The vampire at the other end of the line frowned. "What? But I thought you said you loved him?"

"I do," she affirmed quickly. "And he loves me too. Has done for a while now."

"So?" Angel prompted. "What's the problem?"

"Everything," the Slayer mumbled as she rapidly blinked back the sudden sting of tears that had appeared in her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere," Angel said as he settled back into his chair more comfortably. "Tell me."

Haltingly, Buffy explained everything from the time Spike first declared his love, to Glory, to the gang's acceptance of Spike and of her feelings, right up to Willow's plan and the argument she had had with the blond only an hour or so before. "He's being so stubborn," she finished frustratedly. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

Apart from commenting quite strongly about Spike chaining Buffy up in the beginning, Angel had listened to the rest of the tale in silence. Now, however, he knew that Buffy was expecting him to come up with a perfect solution but he wasn't sure that he could. Yes, he knew Spike well, but the vampire she was describing now wasn't the same one who'd wreaked devastation alongside him for more years than he'd care to remember. He'd only known the evil killer, not the ally. In fact, the only thing he recognised being the same as the Spike he knew was the unflagging devotion to the one he loved.

The guilt hadn't been as much of a surprise to him as it obviously had to Buffy and the gang though. In the past, even when Spike was at his most murderous, he had always displayed what, at the time, Angel had considered to be weak human tendencies. Especially when it came to Drusilla. Jealousy and hurt being the prime examples and mostly directed towards Angel himself. So no, guilt over letting Dawn get hurt wasn't really a surprise, more like an expectation.

"You still there?" Buffy asked, pulling him out of his reflection.

"Yeah, still here. Just thinking," he said.

"No idea's though, huh?" the Slayer asked unable to keep the hope from her voice despite her words.

"Nothing that'll give you the certainty I think you're looking for," he admitted reluctantly. Then suddenly, something clicked in his brain and slow smile spread across his lips. "Actually, I take it back. I might have a little tip on how to make him come around, after all," he revealed in a teasing tone.

"Really?" asked Buffy, feeling a small surge of excitement at the possibility of having a way to finally reach Spike. She listened intently as her first love began to speak, her eyes widening slightly as a grin made it's way to her mouth. "I think I could manage that," she commented, her mind going into overdrive as she mentally ticked off what she'd need. "Halloween's only a couple of weeks away. If I haven't got him by then, that'd be the perfect time."

"Let me know if it works," Angel requested.

"Will do and thanks, Angel…really, I…I appreciate it."

The vampire smiled. "Hey, what are friends for?"

Buffy grinned at that and felt the last of her awkwardness slip away. "I'm glad we can be friends, Angel. I didn't want to lose you over this. What we had was good. Really good. But, I think what we both have ahead of us could be better. Even though we do both think the other completely whacko."

Relief flooded through his body at her confirmation of their newfound friendly status and the slight guilt he carried over loving Cordelia now instead of her faded. It felt good that they could be friends. Like her, he'd been worried that she would not want anything more to do with him which was why he'd held off on making the call but all that was forgotten now that they'd come to an understanding. It'd still take him a while to get used to the fact that she loved his impulsive grandchilde but get used to it he would. Like it, however…well, that was something else altogether.

"I guess I'd better go," came Buffy's voice, once more jolting him out of his internal musings.

"Yeah, must be getting late there," Angel observed as he glanced at his wall clock.

"Yeah."

"Well, I hope you get things sorted out, Buffy. You deserve to be happy and if Spike can do that for you then…" he stopped, unable to actually give his blessing in words then quickly changed the subject. "If you ever need anything don't hesitate to call, okay? I'll always be here for you, Buffy, don't forget that. Just because we're not together, it doesn't stop me worrying about you or…loving you." There was a slight pause, before the vampire hastened to clarify in a slightly panicked tone, "I meant as a friend, that is."

Not even having crossed her mind that his declaration was meant in anything other than a friendly way, Buffy bit back the giggle that threatened to escape at his obvious trepidation. "I know, don't worry," she assured him soothingly before impulsively adding, "Love you too, Angel."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Spike approached Buffy's house and felt the doubt start to set in. What if he was wrong? Almost immediately, he shook his head, rejecting the question. No. No dust, remember you prat?

Thrusting his hand into his pocket, his fingers closed around the earring and he felt his uncertainty lessen. Pulling out the small piece of jewellery, he clung onto it as if it were his very salvation as he came to a stop in front of Buffy's house.

He briefly debated whether to knock on the front door but decided he'd head around the back and go in through the kitchen. Not that this was what he normally did, it just gave him a few more seconds to compose himself before he faced her.

Stealthily, he made his way around the back and climbed the few steps to the rear porch. Almost immediately he stilled as he looked through the window and saw her sitting on a stool next to the counter. She was in profile with the telephone pressed to her ear, talking to someone. Probably Willow, he surmised. Noticing that the window was open slightly, he inched closer telling himself that he wasn’t eavesdropping, merely putting himself in a position to hear any words that might accidentally slip outside. After all, wasn’t his fault if the Slayer couldn’t keep her voice down, was it?

Seconds later, his face clouded as he overheard the one thing that could destroy his entire existence as easily as a stake to the heart.

"Love you too, Angel."

Jaw tightening, he closed his eyes trying to blot out the incredible pain that seemed to encompass his whole body, freezing it in place. This couldn't be happening. He didn't just hear that. She wasn’t on the phone to Angel telling him she loved him.

"Night, Angel."

Only she was, he acknowledged miserably as he felt his whole world shatter into a million pieces around him. ‘Leave, leave, leave,’ his mind ordered in an attempt to induce his legs to start moving. It took a couple of seconds before his limbs actually decided to co-operate and when they did, he threw the earring he’d all but crushed in his hand to the ground then took off at a run.

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Buffy and Angel bade each other goodnight and as soon as the Slayer terminated the call, she suddenly felt freer than she had done in years. Despite her initial misgivings upon phoning him, she realised that it had provided her with the closure she’d not been aware she needed. And, she suspected, it had provided the same sense of conclusion for Angel as well.

The door to her past now well and truly closed, she could look to Spike…and the rest of her future.

Spike. As soon as she thought of him the familiar tingle tickled her neck for a couple of seconds, then just as quickly stopped. Rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, she dropped the phone on the counter and spun around, looking out her back door. Was he here?

Hurrying over, she wrenched open the door with a huge smile and stepped out onto her porch. "Spike?" she called, looking around hopefully. "Spike?" Her smile faded at the answering silence and she sighed. Deciding she must have conjured up the sensation because she'd been thinking about him, she cast one last lingering look out into the darkness, then turned around and went back inside. Locking the door behind her, she switched off the light and made her way up to bed.

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Before he knew it, Spike was in the centre of town heading towards Willy’s determined to drink himself into oblivion in record time.

Sick at heart, he called himself all kinds of fool for stupidly convincing himself that the Slayer cared anything for him at all. That phone call proved once and for all who her affections truly lay with and he'd been a prat to forget it.

Angel. Of course it was Angel. It was always bloody Angel! And he was just a monumental idiot for ever imagining that tonight was anything other than it was…a sympathetic head pat for helping out followed by a swift kick up the jacksie in a less than patient effort to snap him out of it.

He shouldn't have been so surprised. Really, he shouldn't. She'd told him in no uncertain terms over and over again what she thought about him and no amount of word twisting and wishful thinking was ever going to change that.

But, God…it hurt. So much. Too much.

He was lost so deep in his unhappy thoughts that when a faint chill ran up his spine, it took him several seconds to realise what his brain was trying to tell him.

Fen.

Coming to a stop, Spike turned slowly around on the spot trying to get a fix on the demon’s whereabouts. The shiver along his back grew in intensity and he headed off to his right determined to track the murderer down.

Trouble was, after tonight, he was no longer so sure that once he found Fen, he'd try and resist his magic…it was looking more like he'd simply let himself succumb.

END CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13 - Discovery

The door to the crypt burst open and Spike ran through the opening, slamming it behind him to shut out the sun's early morning rays. Hastily removing his duster, he flung it to the ground and stamped out the small flames that were still burning after his unplanned walk in the sun.

After assuring himself that there was minimal damage to the coat, he draped it over the chair and headed towards the lower part of the crypt. Dropping gracefully through the hole in the floor to the ground below, he quickly stripped off his T-shirt and headed for the bed. Sitting on the edge, he held up his hands for inspection and saw that, for all the stinging, the burn marks were already starting to heal. 'Perfect end to a bloody perfect night,' he thought to himself sullenly.

He'd searched for Fen all night long but to no avail. It was only when the first prickling of dawn approached that he decided to give up the hunt and head back to his crypt but he'd misjudged the timing somewhat, hence the crispy fried fingers. Still, at least one thing had become clear in his mind as he'd rushed back to the dark safety of his abode…

He wasn't quite ready to die just yet.

Hell, if he were honest with himself, he knew he’d come to that conclusion mere seconds after catching wind of Fen the night before. Although the ragged remains of the poet he once was rejoiced loudly at the romantic notion of dying for love, the demon within him baulked. He was a survivor, plain and simple. No matter how much a certain Slayer's overheard admissions of love to the Great Ponce had sliced into him and dissected his undead into hundreds of tiny pieces. He'd gotten through worse…although he was having a hard time remembering when at the moment…and at the end of the day, nothing had actually changed. Buffy still loved Peaches and Spike still loved Buffy. More than ever. Even now, when there was absolutely no hope of her ever returning the feeling, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. And he didn’t.

Her pity was another thing altogether though. He neither wanted nor needed it and he knew the only way to stop her acting as she had the night before would be to snap out of his depression…or at least outwardly appear to. He shook his head and lay back down on the bed, bringing his feet up as he rested on top of the covers.

Appearances were all well and good but deep down he knew that what he needed was a way to ease the guilt. After a lot of deliberation, he still thought that the only way of attempting some kind of restitution, within himself at least, if not others, was to find and defeat Fen.

Eyes falling shut in preparation for sleep brought the usual, immediate replay of past events. Commonly, they involved Dawn and the Tower but today they were generously interspersed with pictures of Buffy and her bleeding arm. His last coherent thought before drifting off into a fitful sleep, was that acting fine would be a whole lot easier said than done.

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Buffy awoke to the sound of her telephone ringing. Groggily, she reached over and felt around on her bedside table before locating the receiver and putting to her ear. "Hello?" she greeted, her voice still husky from sleep. "Hello?" she repeated, then tutted when the handset suddenly rang in her ear once more. "Stupid phone," she muttered before blearily looking at the receiver and pressing the button that would allow her to actually take the call. "Hello!"

"Hey, not interrupting anything, am I?" came Willow's perky and definitely suggestive voice down the line.

Buffy grimaced slightly. "The answer to that would be a big fat resounding no, Will," she grumbled unhappily. "With a capital ‘n’ and a double capital ‘o’. The plan didn't work. We had a fight instead."

"A fight?" the witch repeated in surprise. "But…but, what about?" There was a gasp. "You told him that you know, didn't you?" she queried, her tone slightly accusing.

"I couldn’t help it!" Buffy exclaimed, immediately on the defensive. "Every time we got close, he’d back off again. I just…snapped and it all came babbling out."

"Buffy…"

"I know, I know, Will," the Slayer cut in, the exasperation evident in her voice. "I messed up. Big time. Trust me, I do not feel good about how last went at all. I totally blew it."

There was a slight pause then the witch's sympathetic tones came over the line. "Oh, come on now, I don't think it'd be totally. Look on the positive side, you said you got close? Gotta be a good thing, right? I mean, was there any kissage?" Willow asked hopefully.

"Not even so much as a peck on the cheek," the Slayer sighed despondently.

"Oh, Buffy, I’m sorry, I really thought it’d work," the witch said unhappily.

"Hey, that’s okay, Will, really. It wasn’t your plan that mucked up, it was Impatient Buffy. She just pushed too hard," the blonde replied as she turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. "Me and romance? Very un-mixy, you know that…especially after all these years of witnessing my dire attempts at relationships. I should carry a warning or something." Deepening the tone of her voice, she joked, "Do not touch, major angst potential."

Willow gave a half-hearted chuckle, knowing that her friend was hurting and trying to put on a brave face. Goddess, men could be so infuriating at times. "You're not going to give up, are you?" the redhead asked, already knowing the answer but still wanting to hear her friend say it just to be sure.

"Heck no!" came the blonde's immediate response. "I thought I'd give it a couple of days and then go see him. Now he knows that I know about his little guilt-fest, I figured I'd just lay it all on the line. Tell him how I feel and see what happens. I'm thinking that if I push hard and long enough, he'll have to start pushing back eventually and then this whole thing will be sorted out once and for all."

Willow sighed. "Yeah, probably the best thing to do, now," she agreed then glanced at her watch and gasped. "Buffy, I'm sorry but I have to go. Tara and I think we saw that ugly demon last night when we went to get Spike. We're gonna go to the Magic Shop and do some research." She paused. "Why don't you come along too and we can talk and even maybe figure out another plan of action to get Spike?" the redhead proposed hopefully.

"Actually, Angel gave me a great tip last night…" Buffy began only to be interrupted by a loud yelp of surprise.

"Angel?" Willow queried, shocked. "You spoke to Angel last night?"

Buffy nodded and then realising that Willow couldn't see her, she hastily went on to tell her about the rather unusual conversation she'd with the soulled vampire.

"So, how do you feel?" the witch asked softly when Buffy finished.

"Fine, actually," the Slayer replied honestly.

"Not even the tiniest spot of jealousy?" the redhead pressed.

Buffy paused and searched her feelings one last time before saying, "No, not even a twinge. Surprising really, I thought it'd hurt but it doesn't. I'm just pleased for him."

"That's good, because…" Willow paused and then couldn’t help but start laughing. "I’m sorry, Buffy…Angel and Cordelia?" she choked out, unable to stem her giggles. "I just don't believe it."

"Yeah, Angel said the same about me and Spike," the blonde revealed, her own laughter suddenly starting to surface. "Only with a few insults at Spike thrown in, but don’t worry, I had a few of my own to throw back at him."

"I'll bet," Willow commented, her mirth subsiding as she checked her watch once more. "Okay, I'm officially going to be late. I'd better go. We'll see you in about an hour, right?"

"Should do. I just want to swing by the Sherman crypt and pick up my bag and the other stuff first," the Slayer told her with a long-suffering sigh. "I'll be along after that and, if I'm lucky, the mind numblingly boring research might even hold my interest for more five seconds today."

Willow laughed again, then rang off and Buffy got up. She had a quick shower, dried her hair then dressed quickly and plodded down the stairs to the kitchen. After a quick bowl of cereal, she left a note for Dawn saying where she was going and asked that she come along later. Leaving it on the kitchen counter, she left her house and headed for Rosewood cemetery.

Buffy entered the crypt and looked around feeling the regret of what might have been wash over her. Some of the candles she'd lit were still alight and she blew them out one by one before gathering her belongings and heading to the door. With one last wistful look around the tomb, she walked out the door and into the graveyard.

Before taking a slow walk to the Magic Shop, she had a quick look around the area she and Spike had fought the Monu demons the night before in the remote hope that she might find her earring. As she'd undressed the previous night, she'd realised that she no longer had the piece of jewellery on her person and had decided to check for it when she got the rest of her stuff. Unfortunately, it looked at though the earring had been lost sometime during the fight and it was with a resigned sigh that she left the cemetery.

The rest of the gang were already at the store when she arrived and from their understanding smiles, she knew that Willow had told them about her and Spike's unsuccessful date. Sitting down at the table next to Xander however, she soon learned that the redhead had only mentioned that the evening hadn't gone to plan which meant she had to relate the finer details herself.

Tara was sympathetic and full assurances that things would be fine. Giles attempted to be supportive but ended up looking more relieved than anything. Xander gave her a commiserating pat on the back while Anya seemed to be the most upset of all.

Fifteen minutes Buffy sat there, desperately trying to cut in on Xander's unhappy fiancée as she spelled out in the most graphic terms imaginable just what she’d missed out on having not yet slept with a vampire. A proper vampire that is, because as far as Anya was concerned, Angel couldn't be classed as a 'pedigree' seeing as he had the whole soul thing going on. Then she told her just how sorry she was for the Slayer at not being able to benefit from any orgasms the previous night. Or, come to that matter, for the last few months. Unless she handled it herself, of course. It was at that point that Xander stood up and placed his hand over her mouth in order to physically stop the flow of words.

"Oh, dear Lord, thank you Xander, I thought she’d never stop," a blushing Giles commented in a relieved tone when the ex-demon was finally silenced. Excusing himself he headed to the back of the shop and began sorting out the necessary research books.

"Ahn, honey, if I remove my hand, will you promise to talk about something else?" Xander asked with a pointed look.

She nodded, shooting him an angry glare as he slowly withdrew his hand. "I was just being a concerned friend," she announced resentfully as she got to her feet abruptly. "But since my pity is not wanted, I shall return to the running of the shop and not bother to offer my understanding assurances any more."

She flounced off and Xander sighed deeply before resuming his seat. "Guess that means there’ll be no playing of doctor and sexy nurse for me tonight," he moaned dejectedly.

"Xander!" came the chorus of admonishment from the remaining girls around the table and he looked up at them, puzzled.

"What?" he asked, looking at each female in turn. When he realised what he’d said, a horrified look appeared on his face, swiftly followed by a sheepish one. "Sorry, I guess Anya’s rubbing off on me."

"Just a little bit," Buffy said wryly as she gave her friend a light slap on the arm. Leaning closer, an impish smile graced her features as she quietly added, "Bet I know something that could take your mind off the fact you won't be getting any tonight, though."

Xander’s eyebrows rose. "Do tell," he encouraged, his interest captured.

Buffy grinned and proceeded to tell him all about Angel and Cordelia. Xander’s jaw dropped as he listened and for a moment, after the Slayer finished speaking, he sat there in stunned silence. "So, what you’re saying is that my ex and Dead Boy Senior are an item?" he clarified, his eyes wide.

"Uh-huh," Buffy confirmed, unable to stop her grin.

The carpenter looked from Buffy’s smiling face to Willow’s almost identical grin and suddenly gave collapsed into peals of laughter. "That's priceless!" he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "The spoilt Prom Queen and Mr. Broody? Gotta be a lot of laughs in that relationship! He would've been safe from getting happy's even without the spell, old prim found. I'll bet he's so henpecked." He adopted a high pitched voice as he continued, "Angel, do you have to drink blood all the time? It's like, so not the in thing. Get your feet off the table. Take me shopping. Don't give me that bumpy look!"

Buffy and Willow laughed along with him while Tara stared at all three of them in bemusement. "Who is this Cordelia?" she asked everyone in general.

"Xander's ex-girlfriend from high school," Buffy supplied with a giggle. "She was very…how can I put it…high maintenance."

"Yeah, in a 'I'm popular and you're all dirt beneath my feet' kind of way," Willow added with a slight grimace.

"Will and Cordy never really got on," Buffy told the wide-eyed blonde dryly.

"That's an understatement," Xander put in, then suddenly started to laugh once more. "Really, Cordy and Angel?"

The other two joined in and Tara just shook her head mystified. "One of these days I'm going to have to actually meet these people. Even if it's only to find out why this is so funny."

Giles chose that moment to return to the table and drop a large pile of thick tomes onto it. "Right, here's the first lot for you all to be getting on with," he began and then looked at the widely grinning faces of Xander, Buffy and Willow and Tara's still somewhat puzzled one. "Did I miss something?" he queried with a frown.

"Angel and Cordelia are dating," Tara explained.

Giles' eyebrows rose in surprise and then his mouth quirked up into a small smile. "I see. Well, that is…odd news." His comment brought forth a few more giggles and he sighed. "Yes, alright, settle down please," he ordered a little sternly and pointed at the books. "We do have some work to do today."

Everyone immediately quietened then grabbed a tome and opened it up, bending their heads to the chore. Giles swept one last look around the table the turned and headed for the ladder up to the second floor.

He'd barely gone two paces when snorts of laughter began again. "Why me?" he muttered as he looked up and shook his head, then continued on his way.

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Dawn let herself into her home and dropped her bag on the floor. She called for her sister as she walked into the kitchen and then saw the note on the table. Needing something to drink, she grabbed a glass from one of the cupboards and then pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge.

Giving it a slight shake, she realised there wasn't much left and made a mental note to buy more as she emptied the container's contents into the glass. Taking a deep swallow, she turned and opened the waste bin to drop the carton into and found that it was full.

Putting her glass down, she muttered to herself about always being the one left to deal with the stinky jobs and pulled the rubbish bag and its rotting contents out. Dropping the carton on top, she wrinkled her nose up at the smell and tied the bag off. Letting herself out the back, she dumped the bag in the trash can and turned to go back in when the sun glanced off something bright in the grass.

Bending down, Dawn saw it was an earring and picked up. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was slightly twisted but recognised it as one of Buffy's. Slipping it into her pocket, she went back inside and took her bag up to her room. Checking her watch, she decided to have a quick shower then join the rest of the Scoobies at the Magic Shop.

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Buffy let out a huff and closed yet another book. Eying the pile stacked in the middle of the table distastefully, she put the tome she’d just finished looking through on the floor and reached over for another.

"Faeries, Fey and Magicfolk?" she dubiously muttered aloud as she read the title. Not thinking that she'd have anymore luck with this book than she'd had with the others she'd read, she absently opened the tome to the centre pages as her mind, once again, began to wander to Spike as it had done repeatedly for the past four hours that she’d sat there. Bored out of her mind a mere twenty minutes into researching, she’d mentally made up little scenarios’ of how she and the reluctant vampire would get together.

Fantasy number three was turning out to be her favourite and she had no problem conjuring up the premise once again. She’s lying naked in her bed at night. Full moon casting just enough light. Window open, soft breeze gently moving the curtains back and forth. Cool air rolling across her skin, soothing her warm body as she slowly drifts off to sleep. But then, suddenly, he’s in the room. Standing as still as a statue. His face unreadable as he stares down at her. Not a word is spoken, probably because she knows that they would end up arguing. She draws the sheet back off her body allowing him to see her nude form. He takes a step. Then another. She holds her arms out in invitation and he sheds his clothes. The moon’s silvery light bathes his pale torso. White hair, chiselled features, hard chest and those oh-so-clearly defined abdominal muscles that just make her fingers itch to touch. The rest of his body is still in the shadows but, after straddling him in the crypt, she has some idea of what is hidden from her eyes. He moves then and covers her body with his. "Buffy," he murmurs softly as he plants soft kisses along her jaw line and down her neck. "Buffy…"

"…do you want jelly or plain?"

What the hell? The Slayer blinked a couple of times, puzzled. That wasn’t part of her fantasy. A couple more blinks and then she focussed on the doughnut box that was shoved under her nose.

Oh. Treats. Yummy.

Lifting her hand, she chose her cake then bit into it with relish as the box continued on its way around the table.

"Well, if the Dawnster’s not careful, she's gonna miss out on all the sugary goodness," Xander proclaimed as he licked some jelly from his fingers.

Buffy frowned and checked the clock on the wall. "I wonder where she is," she mused aloud. "She should’ve been here by now, it’s getting late." She was about to get up when the bell above the door rang and the younger Summers sister strolled in.

"Ooo, just in time for doughnuts," Dawn exclaimed when she got to the table. Leaning over, she reached out to take one of the treats only to give a yelp of surprise as Buffy playfully slapped her hand away.

"Hey, those are for people who have actually put in some research time," the Slayer told her in a mock stern tone.

"Well, since I’m here ready to do research now, I’ll just take one on account," the brunette replied chirpily as she grabbed a cake and darted out of Buffy’s reach. "Hah!"

"Brat," Buffy mumbled good-naturedly.

"So, how did last night go?" Dawn asked her sister as she settled herself down on the chair next to Xander. "Not that I want details, because…gross…but still, did it go okay? You and Spike a hot item now? All sickeningly gushy and lovey dovey?"

The Slayer rolled her eyes and then shook her head. "Nope, just the opposite in fact." She then went on to tell her incredulous sister the events that had unfolded the night before and was treated to a disgusted snort from her sibling when she finished.

"You two are useless," was the brunette's verdict before adding, "Oh, and talking about earrings, I found this in the back garden." Dawn pulled out the bent earring from her jeans pocket and put it down on the table near Buffy. "I think you can save it."

Buffy stared at the innocuous piece of gold and felt her stomach take a sudden nosedive. "You said you found this outside?" she asked, her mind racing at the implications of that fact as her sister nodded. "Where outside? On the porch?"

"No, it was in the grass a couple of feet away," her sister replied then frowned as Buffy's face seemed to drain of colour. "Why, what's up?"

"This was the one I was lost last night," the Slayer revealed as she reached out to pick the earring up.

"So?" Dawn asked with a shrug. "You must have dropped when you got back…"

"No, I didn't," Buffy denied emphatically. "I came in through the front door. The only time I went out the back was when I thought Spike was out there."

"Well, maybe he brought it back…" Dawn began then stopped as Buffy closed her eyes as if in pain. "Buffy? What's wrong?"

Buffy opened her eyes and looked at the concerned face of her sister before letting her gaze sweep around to Willow who's face, she was sure, mirrored Buffy's own stricken look.

"He heard you talking to Angel," the redhead said slowly. "Oh no."

"You spoke to Angel?" Dawn queried in surprise.

The Slayer nodded and recounted the conversation she had with her former boyfriend. This time, however, the story wasn't quite as funny as before. Not now she knew what he'd most certainly heard and likely taken completely out of context. Dammit! Why couldn't he have just knocked on the door instead of snooping?

"I have to go and see him," she announced, getting up from her seat. "I've got to right this somehow. I can't have him out there thinking that I still love Angel. Can you imagine what that's doing to him?"

Willow got up and came over to lay a comforting hand on her friends' shoulder. "It'll be fine Buffy. I'm sure once you've explained everything…"

"I am going to explain everything, Will," Buffy told her determinedly. "No more plans. No more games. I'm going to make him listen to me even if I have to chain him up to do so. It's long past time I told him how I felt and tonight he's going to know without a shadow of doubt that I love him."

With that, she turned on her heel and headed out of the store. Willow stared after her for a moment then glanced down at the book Buffy had been reading. Doing a double take, she gasped and pointed to the picture on the right hand page. "Oh Goddess, that's him!"

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Spike fought against the last remaining dregs of sleep and opened his eyes. Seconds later, he shut them again with a pained groan as the sentence that had haunted his dreams floated through his head once more.

'Love you too, Angel.'

"Oh, give it a bloody rest, will you?" he snarled irately to himself as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Grabbing up the T-shirt he’d discarded the night before, he put it on then climbed the ladder up to the top part of the crypt.

Satisfying his hunger with a couple of bags of blood, he put his duster on and checked that night had begun to fall. Dark enough for him to venture out, Spike opened the door and stood in the doorway as he placed a cigarette to his lips and lit it. Inhaling deeply, he let out a stream of smoke from his mouth and surveyed the rapidly darkening cemetery.

Time to find Fen.

"Good evening, Vampire," a low voice greeted to his left.

Before Spike could stop himself, his head snapped around and his eyes immediately locked with the demon he’d been about to seek out. Belatedly, he felt a chill creep down his spine and mentally sighed. 'Bit late for you to kick in,’ he silently chastised himself as he felt his free will slowly slip way.

Fen smiled and beckoned Spike towards him. The vampire tried ignore the gesture, but to no avail. His lit cigarette, pack and lighter fell from his nerveless fingers to land at his feet as he was compelled to follow Fen off into the night.

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Tara, Dawn and Xander got up to have a look at the picture in the book and pulled a disgusted face’s. "That’s him," Tara confirmed, giving Willow a quick nod.

"Man, talk about being beaten with an ugly stick," Xander joked with a laugh.

"He’s revolting," Dawn concurred, her expression one of somebody who has just smelt something really bad.

"Let me see," requested Giles as he came over. Willow moved aside so he could bend over and get a closer look.

"What kind of demon is it?" Tara asked as she scanned the page.

"He’s not a demon," Giles informed her as he read the text linked to the picture.

"Well he’s not human, that’s for sure," Xander said confidently.

"No, he’s not that either," the Watcher agreed.

"So what is he?" Dawn asked impatiently.

"Well, believe it or not, he is…or rather…he was…a Brownie," Giles informed them seriously. His announcement was met by total silence and he looked up to see that everyone was looking at him in stunned surprise.

"A brownie?" Xander repeated dubiously, a smile finding its way to his face. "You’re kidding, right? As in, like an elf? I mean, are you trying to tell us that one of Santa’s little helpers has gone bad or something?" He chuckled. "Or has Buffy gotta go and kill a little square, chocolate guy?"

"Good gracious, give me strength," Giles mumbled as he picked up the book. "No, Xander, this…Fenoderee…as he’s now known, was once a Manx brownie."

"A what brownie?" Dawn queried with a frown.

"Manx, as in he originates from the Isle of Man which is a small isle off the coast of Britain." Giles paused and when the brunette nodded her understanding, he continued. "It says here, that unlike most Brownies, he is the size of a human and possesses supernatural strength."

"Typical," Xander snorted in annoyance then waved his hand for the Watcher to carry on when he saw the older man glaring irritatedly at him from over his glasses.

"Yes, well, where was I?" he muttered as he looked back down at the tome.

"Supernatural strength," Willow supplied helpfully.

"Oh yes," he said, finding his place again. "Apparently, it also says that he was a faerie who was cast into the world of mortals because he fell in love with a human girl. His looks were also taken from him as added punishment and he is forced to spend the rest of eternity an object of ridicule and loathing."

"That’s it?" asked Xander when it appeared that Giles wasn’t going to say anything further.

"I’m afraid so," the Englishman replied, taking off his glasses and looking at him. "It doesn’t mention anything that suggests that he might have something to do with the current killings."

Dawn frowned. "Looks like Spike’s hunch was wrong then."

"Uh, from what Tara and I saw last night, I don’t think it was," Willow interjected quietly.

"What? Why do you say that?" Giles queried. "Did something happen?"

Willow looked at her girlfriend who gave her a small smile and nod of encouragement. "Well, when we went into Willy’s to find Spike, he was talking to this…Fenoderee."

"What?!" Giles exclaimed, his frown deepening. "What on earth was he doing talking to him?"

"I don’t know," the redhead admitted with a worried look. "I think we interrupted at the right moment because he looked a bit out of it…you know, kinda dazed. And when we asked him if that was the guy Buffy and he was looking for, he said no. We didn’t press it, but, whatever they talked about…I think it shook Spike up pretty bad."

"You sure it wasn’t just guilt for getting caught with the enemy?" Xander suggested suspiciously.

"No!" Willow refuted immediately. "That used-to-be brownie had some kind of power that he was using."

"That’s right," Tara concurred, backing her girlfriend up. "We even overheard him threaten Spike before he left."

"Why didn’t you say something earlier?" asked Giles in confusion.

Willow turned to Xander and gave him a stern look before returning her gaze to the Watcher. "We knew someone would jump to the wrong conclusions so we decided we’d speak to Spike first and give him another chance to explain before we said anything."

Xander had the grace to look slightly shame-faced that he’d assumed Spike was at fault and received a slight smile from Willow to let him know it was okay. She loved her friend but also knew that he’d always think the worst of Spike first. She just hoped that time would eventually change his perception of the vampire. For Buffy's sake if nothing else.

"He had some sort of power, you say?" Giles asked, putting his glasses back on and staring interestedly at the wicca. "What kind of power exactly?"

"I don’t know, Giles. I’m sorry," the redhead replied with a helpless shrug of her shoulders. "Spike just looked uncomfortable and then the Fenoderee left."

"Uncomfortable, how?" the Watcher wanted to know.

"Uncomfortable like in a thrall," came Anya’s matter of fact voice as she walked over and joined them at the table. "Was there eye contact? Did he only move when it was broken?"

"Hey, come to think of it, there was. And, he did. You could be right about a thrall," Willow said, turning to look at the ex-demon. "Good guess."

Anya sighed heavily and slowly shook her head. "Not a guess. When I overheard you say Fen's name…well, you just confirmed by suspicions, that’s all. I know what you’re up against and believe me when I say that you won’t be able to kill him."

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Buffy made it to Spike's crypt in record time. Bursting through the door, she urgently called out his name as she walked in. When there was no reply, she dropped down to the lower part and checked there. Realising he wasn't in his home, Buffy frowned. It wasn't that long past dusk for him to have got far, even if he did leave as soon as the night had began to fall. Of course, there was always the sewers…

She made a cursory sweep of the underground passageways, calling out for him but not getting any reply or any feeling that he were nearby. Sighing in frustration, she decided to head back to the Magic Shop and grab a couple of stakes before heading off to Willy's to look for him.

Head down, she exited the crypt and came to halt as she saw Spike's lighter and cigarette pack laying on the ground with a butt end next to it that emitted a slight trail of smoke.

Crap.

She picked the lighter and pack up with a frown, then plucked the remains of the cigarette up feeling the warmth that still emanated from it. Something had happened to Spike and it hadn't been that long ago either, of that she was certain.

Worry creased her brow as she automatically looked around at her feet, searching for, but at the same time, fearing to see, a telltale pile of dust. "Thank God," she breathed in relief as her frantic gaze found nothing even vaguely resembling vampire ash.

Not sensing him anywhere in the cemetery, her first instinct was to rush off to try and find him but as she fingered his lighter contemplatively, an idea popped into her head and she set off at a run back to the Magic Box.

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"I don’t believe this!" Xander groaned as he rubbed his temples to stem the headache that was starting to throb. "Please don’t tell me you granted this…this…Fen a wish, like…a billion years ago and now he’s here wreaking havoc in Sunnydale?"

"Not a billion years ago Xander, I wasn’t around then. This happened three hundred years ago," Anya corrected him and then frowned. "Do I look a billion years old?"

"Ahn, honey, focus, please," the carpenter begged.

"But you did grant him a wish?" Willow asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

Anya shook her head. "No, I didn’t," she told them, causing a few sighs of relief from the gathered group. "He's like the bogeyman of the demon world. Parents use him as a warning not to fall for humans because if they do, he'll come and get them. Of course, now I know he's real, I'm naturally disappointed that it wasn't by my hand. I mean, that kind of revenge is very sweet."

"That as may be," Giles interjected, carefully ignoring the ex-demon's less than tactful remark. "But what is he, exactly, Anya? And why won't we be able to stop him?"

The blonde sighed and gestured for everyone to sit down. When they were settled, she began. "Okay, the book was right as a general background to what happened to Fen but it doesn't cover how he went to visit a powerful warlock to ask for a spell. He was angry and wanted revenge. Not against his own people though; it was against his own heart and what he saw as his weakness for loving a human. His people had acted according to their laws and he accepted that, but he couldn't accept himself. So, he approached an ancient warlock and offered his heart in exchange for the ability to punish all demons that were stupid enough love humans, just like he had. He wanted to strip them of their capacity to love."

"Punish demons that love humans?" Dawn repeated quietly, a chill starting to seep into her bones. "You mean, like Spike loves Buffy?"

Anya nodded. "Yes. Just like that."

Dawn looked down and felt the rush of tears at Anya's confirmation, the worry for her surrogate brother evident. An arm came around her shoulders and she looked up to see Tara's softly smiling countenance offering comfort as she gave the younger girl's arm a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, everything will be fine," she whispered.

Dawn managed a small smile in return and then they both turned their attention back to the conversation. Buffy needed to know everything if she were going to fight this thing and Dawn was going to make sure she heard every word.

"But these demons have been murdered," Giles pointed out. "Removing their capacity to love shouldn't kill them as well."

"I know," the ex-demon concurred. "The warlock that took Fen's heart, double-crossed him. If you make a deal with evil, you can't really expect anything less. There's always consequences." She sighed. "Fen needs the essence of heartbroken demons to sustain him. Literally. He can sense the heartache that comes from human rejection and preys on the weak, feeding off their woes. There's only one catch…they have to be willing to give up their lives and to do that he has the ability to put them in a kind of a thrall and then gets them to agree to be drained."

"Amazing," the Watcher commented as he busily began cleaning his glasses. "But you still haven't said why we won't be able to fight him."

"Well…" Anya began, only to be cut off when the door burst open and an out of breath Slayer rushed in.

"Something's happened…to Spike," she announced in between heavy pants as she tried to get her breath back. She pulled out the vampire's lighter and held it out to Willow. "Here…can you do a…location…spell for me?"

Willow immediately nodded and took the lighter then looked at Tara for help. Her girlfriend joined her and they headed off to make preparations for the spell while Buffy bent over and took in deep lungfuls of air, finally calming her breathing.

Looking up, she saw that everyone was looking at her, their expressions telling her that something was wrong. "What's up?"

They looked at each other and then Giles gave her a brief outline of what they'd learned about Fen, including Willow and Tara's account of what they'd seen at Willy's.

Buffy closed her eyes instinctively knowing that Fen had got to Spike. It wasn't the only explanation for finding the lighter and cigarette pack outside his crypt but, considering this new information, it was the only one. He was a prime target and they all knew it. Even Spike, from what Giles had said.

Anger started to simmer within her. Why the hell hadn't he told her that he'd spoken to Fen? Surely he knew she'd want to go and…her eyes flew open suddenly as the answer hit her. Damn. It was so obvious. His guilt at the perception of what he regarded as his failure on the Tower could only compel him act one way.

Protect.

Her. Dawn. All of them. Only what he didn't know, was that they were never in any danger from Fen. It was only him. And now he was probably caught and having his essence drained…

"We have to find him," Buffy suddenly said urgently, the words 'before it's too late' hanging unspoken in the air. "How's the spell coming?"

"We're ready," Willow said and they all gathered around the two witches as they began to chant.

"Come on, come on," Buffy muttered as she watched map for a sign of Spike's whereabouts. A light appeared and hovered near the older part of town then slowly started moving out towards Rosewood cemetery. Abruptly, Buffy turned then went into the training room and came out wielding a lethal looking sword. "I won't be long," she said grimly, heading towards the shop door. "Just gonna kill me an ugly ass demon then talk some sense into a stubborn vampire and I'll be back."

"Wait, Buffy! There's something I've told you yet," Anya called out, the desperate tone of her voice halting the Slayer in her tracks.

Buffy turned at look at her. "What is it, Anya? I'm kind of on a clock here. Spike could already be…" she stopped and took a deep breath then repeated, "What is it?"

The ex-demon looked at her with the closest thing to sympathy on her face that the Slayer had ever seen and her blood chilled. "What is it, Anya?" she demanded again, her tone harsh. "Tell me."

Anya shook her head regretfully. "If Fen has Spike then he's already under his thrall and you can't break it. If you do, you'll kill Spike as well."

Dawn gasped loudly but Buffy absorbed the information in silence, the slight paling of her already wan face the only indication that she'd actually heard. "How do I stop him then?" she asked, her voice low as she tried to control her emotions.

"You don't," Anya replied. "Spike's the only one that do it because he's in the thrall. If he can turn against Fen and kill him himself, then he'll be safe." Anya paused then gave the Slayer a small smile as she offered her final piece of advice, "Just remember, even within the thrall, Spike can still hear you, Buffy."

Hope flared at Anya's words and Buffy straightened her shoulders back in new resolve. "I'd better make sure I say the right things then, hadn't I?" she said determinedly.

With one last glance around at her friend's concerned faces, she managed a small smile of her own before saying to her tearful sister, "Don't worry, Dawn, I'm not coming back without him." Then, with a final nod, she was gone.

END CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14 - Penance

Spike kept pace with Fen, his eyes still riveted to the demon’s face. He knew they must have made an odd sight walking along the streets of Sunnydale like that, but it wasn’t really all that surprising when no-one made any move to stop them. Unusual was…the usual in Sunnyhell.

His power nor gaze ever wavering, Fen led Spike to the place he’d seen him and the Slayer the night before. Rosewood cemetery. "On your knees, Vampire," he ordered once he brought them to a halt.

Spike obeyed and stared up at the wizened visage before him, dreading his next instruction. Even though he’d been subjected to Dru’s thrall’s in the past, he’d never grown accustomed to the feeling of helplessness that was part and parcel of the magick. The awareness of what was going on around you but being unable to do a damn thing about it.

Naturally, Dru’s reason for putting him in her power was for the sole purpose of doing all things kinky to him. A kind of S&M without the ropes. Knowing that, had made it somewhat bearable.

Fen, however, was another matter. The magick that held him at the other demon’s mercy was amazingly powerful. Far more stronger than anything Dru had ever unleashed. And it scared the hell out of him.

"Tell me about you and the Slayer," Fen demanded softly, watching in interest as Spike's eyes widened slightly in surprise before his jaw tightened in an effort not to respond. "I told you before, it's useless to resist me. It'll just hurt more when the time comes." Defiance flared in the vampire's eyes and he remained silent.

Fen sighed and shook head his slightly. He needed the vampire to talk and let his feelings out. It would make his essence richer, fuller and aid in sustaining him even longer. Not as long as if he'd kept the vampire for himself for a few weeks, taking him to the edge of self destruction again and again before allowing him to dust, but long enough to leave the Hellmouth and set up elsewhere. He wasn't an idiot. He didn't want to be around if the Slayer ever found out what he'd done to her vampire.

And he was her vampire even if the stupid creature couldn't see it for himself. It had sickened him to watch them the night before. It was disgusting, perverse, that a demon should love a human. The fact that the human was a Slayer made the emotion even more unpalatable to his mind. He was glad that he would be the one to end this repulsive alliance once and for all.

"She'll never feel the same for you, you know," Fen began, taking a step towards the blonde. "You love her," he spat, the repulsion of that fact evident in his voice. "The stench of the vile emotion hangs off you like rotting flesh. You will never be anything more than a demon to her. A creature of the night to be ground into the dirt under her leather booted heels. Barely concealed tolerance is the best you can expect. You're nothing to her. Less than nothing and you'll continue to be that until the day she decides she's had enough of your pathetic presence and ends your miserable unlife before walking away while she carelessly brushes the last of your dust off her clothes."

Spike tried to ignore Fen's words, but each one burned into him like a tiny drop of holy water to his skin. "You're wrong," he ground out, hating himself for being weak. Hating himself for responding. But most of all, hating himself for the part of him that believed every single word that Fen had venomously uttered. "She cares about me."

"Really?" Fen challenged, his head tilting to the side as he regarded the blonde steadily. "Why don't you tell me all about it?" he invited, his voice lowering to an almost seductive tone. "Go on, let it all out. Tell me why you think she has feelings for you, even though your essence screams out to me its despair of unrequited love."

Spike wanted to return to his previous silence. He really did. But now he'd spoken, he found he no longer had the will…the desire even…to keep quiet. And so, with a slight incline of his head, the despondent vampire began to speak.

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Xander drummed his fingers on the table in agitation and let out a heavy sigh. He was worried about Buffy going out to face Fen alone. Okay, he knew that, technically, Bumpy Veiny Guy wasn't interested in humans, but Buffy wasn't just any human, was she? She was the Slayer, the Chosen One. Surely that meant that he'd try and kill her anyway, right? That's what demons did…well, most demons, he conceded.

That thought led him to reflect briefly about Spike and he was surprised when he realised he was actually the tiniest bit worried about the vampire. A small part of him, way, way down at the tip of the littlest toe on his left…no…make that his right foot, would actually miss the annoying blonde if he wasn’t around.

Imagine that.

He looked around at the rest of the gang and saw varying degrees of concern on all their faces. Willow and Tara looked apprehensive, Giles kept shooting glances at the door and Dawn was still tearful. Even Anya was sporting a slight frown and she never worried about anything…well, except sexual gratification and money.

Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer. "I’m going after them," he announced as he stood up sharply, scraping his chair back harshly on the varnished floor. "If Crevice Face kills Spike, Buffy's got to deal with him herself and if he has superhuman strength then she could need back-up."

"Absolutely," Giles concurred as he also stood. He'd been contemplating going after them himself when he realised that he was worrying not only about Buffy, but Spike as well. He didn't know how Buffy would handle losing the irritating vampire and he'd do his damndest to make sure that wouldn't happen. "I'll go with you."

"So will we," Willow and Tara declared as, they too, stood up, eager to help their friends in any way they could.

"And me," Dawn added, getting quickly to her feet. "And don't tell me I'm not because I'll follow you anyway," she inserted with determination when Xander and Giles both looked as though they were about to speak.

Xander gave her a slight smile then turned to his fiancée. "Ahn?"

She sighed heavily and looked at all the other expectant faces around the table before staring back up at Xander. "I haven't yet counted today's money nor performed my capitalist happy dance," she said with obvious chagrin.

A flicker of disappointment crossed the carpenter’s face. That was his Anya. Dollar signs for eyes. Although he loved her dearly, her materialistic nature frustrated him at times. Especially when it came before him and their friends. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that aspect of her nature. "That's okay, you stay and…" he began as she suddenly rose from her seat.

"No, I'm coming too," she interrupted firmly.

Xander looked at her in confusion. "What? But I thought you just said…"

"I did," she confirmed with a curt nod as she cut him off. "I just thought that you would want to induce even more orgasms tonight if you appreciated what a sacrifice I'm making by putting the other best part of my day on hold."

There was a chorus of groans as a red-faced Xander looked anywhere but at his friends. "Uh…how about we go get us some weapons, huh?" he exclaimed brightly, deciding it was best not to comment on what Anya had said. Without waiting for a response, he headed off to the training room as fast as he could.

"What?" asked Anya blankly as the others shook their heads and followed after Xander. "So repressed," she muttered to herself before tutting and heading over to join them in the training room.

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Spike talked, seemingly unaware of the demon in front of him even though he still stared straight into his eyes. The tone of his voice flat, he went into minute detail of every meeting he'd ever had with the Slayer from the first time he'd seen her dancing with Willow and Xander at the Bronze up until the night he'd been disinvited from her house after admitting his feelings.

He faltered in his monologue then and Fen inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of the sudden deepening heartache that rolled off the vampire before him. The remembrance of that particular moment had obviously cut deep. "Delectable," he hissed out, the pleasure of Spike's internal pain almost bringing him to orgasmic heights.

Producing a small knife from out of his pocket, Fen took a couple of steps forward and held it up next to Spike's face. "Take your coat off," he commanded. Spike complied, his voice never stopping as he spoke about having the Buffybot made because he was so desperate for the real Buffy's touch and affection.

Unable to hold out any longer, Fen leaned forward and slowly pushed the tip of the blade into the vampire's chest. It slid in smoothly to the hilt and he wriggled it about slightly until blood started to seep out. Withdrawing the blade, he held his hand over the cut and took a deep breath. Draining a vampire was tricky. Holding the thrall while trying to take their essence and not dust them was incredibly difficult. Even more so, with this particular vampire, he was finding. Spike was fighting against the hold with every inch of his unlife. Fen could feel the internal struggle going on and had to use the utmost concentration to keep him under control.

The blue light, paler than usual, began emanating from his left palm, slowly drawing Spike's blood from his body. Not too quickly though. Wouldn't do to make him too weak. Not yet, anyway. The longer he continued to talk, the deeper the pain and the more satisfying it would be for Fen.

A vein started to rise and pulsate along his left cheek and he fought the urge to shut his eyes and enjoy the feeling to the fullest. Time enough for that when the vampire was dust.

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‘Not too late. Not too late. Not too late,’ was the frantic mantra that ran through Buffy’s head as she entered Rosewood cemetery and slowed to a jog as she scanned the darkened landscape for her errant love.

Off in the distance, a faint glow caught her eye and she sped up again, knowing without a doubt that it was Fen and Spike. Unbidden, her internal mantra struck up once again. ‘Not too late. Not too late. Not too late.’

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Every time he paused, Spike endeavoured to keep his mouth shut, but the thrall was proving too much for him. Not for the first time since Fen caught him at his crypt, Spike contemplated just giving in entirely. But, he suspected, that was all part and parcel of the hold Fen was weaving very effectively around him. Still, even though his subconscious realised that and he resisted it as best he could, he was just getting so God damn tired. So tired of the fight. So tired of his guilt. So bloody well tired of his whole pathetic unlife.

The knife Fen produced was a surprise. So was the stab wound. Mentally crying out in pain at the burning sensation of the cool blade entering his chest, Spike wondered why Fen had done it. It wasn’t as if it’d kill him.

His answer was swift in coming.

The hand placed over his wound generated a comforting warmth that spread throughout his body, while the pull of his blood being ripped from his body hurt like the devil. It was a study in contrasts that only aided in making him even weaker, both mentally and physically. He could feel himself literally slipping away and produced a picture in his mind’s eye, of the one thing that he knew would keep him fighting to stay.

Buffy.

He'd give anything to see her one last time…or even just hear her voice.

"Hey! Quasimodo! What the hell do you think you're doing to my vampire?"

Internally, Spike chuckled a little hysterically to himself. He must really be on his last legs now. For a moment there he could've sworn he heard Buffy, but he knew that couldn't be true. She didn't know where he was and even if she did, he didn't think for one moment that she'd bother to help him out. And 'my vampire'? Definitely losing his brain cells.

"Slayer," hissed Fen, moving his hand closer to the vampire's chest and concentrating even harder. The light from his palm started to glow a brighter blue as he focussed everything on drawing out the vampire's essence.

Spike felt the pain intensify as his blood loss increased. He was getting weaker but he didn't care because Buffy was here. Really here. Fen had called to her, proving she was real. He hadn't imagined things. She was really there. His Slayer. For him. Her vampire. And he'd be damned if he was going to leave her now.

xxxxxxxxxx

Buffy stared at the sight of Spike kneeling before Fen and her blood boiled. Supplication was not something she equated with the blond vampire and to see it forced upon him caused a rage within her that she had trouble in containing. Wanting nothing more than to rip the hideous creatures' head from his shoulders and kick it into touch, she slowly circled them, fists clenched, until she was within striking distance.

"You cannot touch me, Slayer," he told her with a sneer. "The vampire will die if you do."

"I know," she replied coldly then turned towards Spike who was still continuing his monotone litany of troubled thoughts. "Spike, you have listen to me," she said, her voice urgent. "I can't help you with this. You have to break free of his hold yourself. You have to be the one to kill him. It's the only way."

"He can't hear you," Fen snarled angrily.

"Yes, he can," Buffy refuted confidently, keeping her eyes pinned on the blank face of her love willing him to break the thrall and look at her. Taking a step closer, she hoped against hope that some of what she was saying was, in fact, getting through. Anya had been certain and yet, so far, there wasn't even so much of a twitch from him that suggested that he had. "Spike, you can do this. I know you can. I believe in you. You're stronger than him. Better. Fight it…please…"

Just then, Spike reached the part of his tale that included being up on the Tower with Dawn. The magnitude of his heartbreak at his supposed failure and following guilt stunned Buffy into shocked silence. Sure, she knew what Willow had told her but to actually hear it from Spike’s own lips, albeit not of his own volition, well…she just hadn't realised, until that very moment, just how much Spike had tortured himself over the last couple of weeks.

"No, Spike, none of that was your fault," said Buffy anxiously, wanting to reach out and hug him tightly. "If you hadn’t been there then Doc would’ve used Dawn. Hurt her to open the portal. I didn’t get there in time, remember? It was you. You bought us time we’d never have had. You saved us, don’t you see that? You. Saved. Us."

"Ignore her," Fen ordered, harshly. "It doesn’t matter what you did, the fact remains that she doesn’t care about you. You’re nothing to her."

"That’s a lie," Buffy denied heatedly. "I do care. I care a lot…"

At her words, Spike’s rambling faltered causing her to stop and look at him closely. There was something there, she was sure. Suddenly, the answer hit her like a ton of bricks. "Did you hear me, Spike?" she pressed. "I said I care about you."

Fen heard Spike stutter again and knew that the Slayer had realised how to help him snap out of his thrall. If Spike knew that she returned his feelings then Fen’s power would be cancelled out. He was powerless against true love. For the first time since Buffy turned up, Fen was worried. His hold on the vampire was beginning to weaken and he needed to do something to shut the Slayer up. In desperation he swung out wildly with his right arm, his fist catching an off guard Buffy square across the jaw.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Xander and Giles walked into the cemetery closely followed by Willow and Tara then Dawn and finally Anya. All carried a weapon of some kind, although Dawn had been miffed at only being allowed a baseball bat arguing that she needed something pointy like the rest of them. Giles had firmly refused then told her that it was the bat or she stayed behind…tied to a chair.

When she’d began to complain, he’d added that she’d also be gagged. His look told her more effectively than words that he meant what he said and it was with only a quiet grumble that she’d picked up the bat and angrily swung it around a couple of times barely missing hitting Xander on each swipe. As the air rushed passed his ear on the third swing, he’d let out a startled yelp then quickly straightened from picking up a crossbow that was on the floor and had given her a pointed glared. Hurriedly, she’d clasped her hands, and bat, behind her back and had defensively told him that she was just testing its weight. That had earned her a wry twist of the mouth before Anya had reminded them in brutal terms just why they really should be leaving.

And now they were here. Preparing to help their best friend and a vampire who each of them considered, at varying degrees, a part of their gang.

"Right, Anya, Willow and I will go this way," Xander decided, pointing to his right. "And Giles, you take Tara and Dawn and go that way." He pointed left. "If anyone sees anything…whistle."

At his words, Dawn pursed her lips and blew causing Xander to wince at the high pitched tone. "Uh, yeah, like that, but not now, okay, Dawnie? I meant if you see them," Xander explained patiently as he exaggeratingly wriggled a finger in his ear as if he were deaf.

"Duh," the brunette commented with a roll of her eyes. "I have seen them…well, something, anyway." She pointed behind the carpenter and he and the gang turned their heads to see a blue light glowing in the distance.

"That’s something all right," Willow murmured quietly.

"Yes, it is," Giles concurred. Tightening his hold on the sword he held, he glanced briefly at the others and added, "Looks like he’s already started draining Spike."

"Why are we standing here then? Let's go," Dawn urged, taking a step forward. "We need to be there and help save him."

"We will," Giles replied, placing a hand on her arm in order to stop her leaving. "But you will be doing your saving from the back of the group. Understood?" Dawn huffed her disapproval then gave a reluctant nod. "Good," the Watcher approved curtly. "Now, all of you, keep quiet and follow me."

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Although not really hurt by Fen’s punch, Buffy still gave a little yelp of surprise and took a couple of steps back. As she did so, a collective gasp drew her gaze to the right and she was momentarily distracted when she saw the rest of the gang standing there. Before she could say anything, the back of her heel came into contact with the edge of an old gravestone and she fell heavily onto her rear.

"Great," she muttered, feeling the stinging warmth spread throughout her seat. "Nice to see my Slayer senses are on top form tonight."

Looking over at her friends, she saw Xander take a step forward as if to come to her aid but she held up her hand to stop him. She appreciated their support but this was something she was going to have to do alone.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Fen now knew that any chance of his leaving the cemetery alive was non-existent. With Spike’s blood running through his system, he would’ve had a fighting chance against just the Slayer, but he couldn’t beat her and the other people that had just arrived.

Judging by the love and compassion that surrounded the group, he'd say that they were her friends. Who'd ever heard of a Slayer having friends before? It was ludicrous and yet there they stood. Amongst them, he recognised the witches vibes and scowled. They'd thwarted him twice already and now they were here again. As ridiculous as the Slayer having friends was, it appeared that the vampire was not without either.

A shame then, that he wouldn't be around to appreciate them much longer. Taking advantage of the Slayer’s distraction, Fen reached into his pocket and pulled out a stake. Letting it drop between himself and Spike, he leaned forward. "Penance lies at your feet, Vampire. Pick it up and atone your actions by cleansing yourself…forever."

As Spike reached out to pick it up, Fen felt a surge of satisfaction wash through him. If he wasn't getting out of here alive, neither was the vampire.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Fen's low spoken words had Buffy's head snap around immediately. Horrified, she watched as Spike slowly reached out and picked up the wooden weapon, holding it loosely in his right hand. "Spike, no…"

"You are too late, Slayer, he only hears me now," Fen told her furiously before leaning in even closer to the vampire. "Take away your pain," he commanded wrathfully. "Do it now!"

Buffy scrambled to her feet and rushed back over to the pair of demons. "No Spike, don’t do it, don’t listen to him, listen to me," she begged as he slowly raised the stake. "You can break this, you just have to believe what I say to you. Really believe."

His arm continued its upward movement until it reached level with his chest and then he turned the stake inwards and pressed it to his body, directly over his heart. His left arm rose allowing his hand to join his right in clasping the stake more firmly in his grasp and Buffy knew time had run out.

"I love you, Spike," she quickly blurted out. "I do. I don’t know how it happened but it did. I love you and you can't leave me, do you hear?" Her voice began to tremor slightly as her eyes suddenly became glassy with unshed tears. "You can't. Not now. Not like this. Fight it, Spike. Fight him. Then we can go home. You and me. Together."

Time seemed to stand still as she watched Spike's hands stop their movement. He had to believe her, he just had to.

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Spike felt like he was about to explode. The excruciating pain in his chest, coupled with his lack of blood, was having such a devastating effect that he seriously doubted he'd survive even if he did find the strength to kill the bastard in front of him.

Her voice had been like a lifeline to him. Everything she said helped him fight a little bit harder and he'd been winning. Each soothing and comforting syllable was another hand-grip on the rope she'd thrown as he tried to drag himself out of the overwhelming quicksand that was Fen's thrall. His head had just been about to break surface when he'd heard the crack of fist hitting jaw followed by her silence.

'Buffy? Buffy!' his mind cried out in fear. 'What had he done to her?'

When Fen's voice started up again, Spike let out a mental cry of frustration as he felt himself get drawn back down. 'No! Not now! I was so near. Buffy! Talk to me, talk to me, please.'

And then, suddenly, she did. She wanted him to believe her, wanted him to try and break the thrall. He was trying but it was so much harder now. He had such little strength left, couldn't she see that?

Maybe it would be better just to thrust the stake that now rested above his heart in. He'd be gone but so would Fen because he knew without a doubt that Buffy would kill the demon where he stood. A monster like him was such a small price to pay for helping finish off such a vile creature, surely? In fact, it wouldn't be a price at all…more like a bonus. And at least there would be no more guilt…no time for any such emotion, where he was headed.

Both hands gripped around the stake now, he said a mental goodbye to Dawn and re-avowed his eternal love for Buffy. Then, when he was about to push down, he heard her say the words he’d always wanted to hear.

"I love you, Spike. I do."

She loved him! Oh God, she loved him! His brain was a fuzzy haze of joy as he then heard her voice catch as she told him not to leave her, that she wanted him to go home with her…together. Together. Home. Home where just the night before he'd heard her say the same words to Angel.

As quick as the joy had flooded his body, it drained away, leaving a bad taste. As if knowing Spike's very thoughts, Fen chose that moment to say, "She only tells you what she thinks you want to hear. It means nothing, as do you. End it and you not need to listen to her lies anymore."

It was a last ditch attempt on the demon’s part to get Spike to kill himself and he knew it. Knew it, but couldn’t do a damn thing to shake the traitorous part of him that still insisted on believing Fen anyway. The same part that kept whispering in his ear to just give in. Warring with his inner self, it came as a shock when the last voice he ever expected to hear suddenly penetrated his confused head. That of, Xander Harris.

"Uh, sorry to burst one of your many bubbly veins there, O Stomach-churning One, but, as much as it pains me to say it, Buffy’s telling the truth. She is in love with Spike." Xander walked over and stood next to the Slayer then directed the next to the motionless vampire. "Hey! Can you hear me through all that bleach, Dead Boy? Buffy loves you. For real. And we all know. Dawn, Giles, Willow, Tara, Anya…every last one of us. Even Angel." There were a few murmurs of agreement alerting Spike to the fact that the whole gang was there before the carpenter added, "So, what the heck are you kneeling there for, wasting time with this loser, when you could be upsetting the hell out of me by sharing some serious smoochies the Buffster right in front of my poor defenceless eyes?"

As if a veil was lifted from his eyes by Xander’s words, Spike suddenly felt the world come back into sharp focus. It was true. Even though he wasn't worth it, Buffy loved him. Loved him! And Xander, his greatest detractor, had just stood there and all but given his blessing. It was all so unbelievable, it had to be true. The urge to shout out his joy was almost overwhelming but he knew he had to take care of Fen first. Forcing himself to remain still, he stared coldly into the face of his tormenter who was drawing nearer to him.

It took Fen mere seconds to realise that his hold was gone. Gasping out the word, "No!" his eyes widened and he pulled his hand away, violently tearing apart the parasitic connection.

The pain of the separation seared through Spike like fire but, drawing on his last reserves of strength, he quickly turned the stake he held at his chest around and lunged upwards. The flesh of Fen throat gave easily as Spike rammed the weapon in so far the pointed tip broke through the back of his neck.

Fen’s eyes bugged as he clutched wildly at his throat trying to dislodge the stake while a thick blue viscous liquid flowed in copious amounts from his wound and down the front of his body. Falling to his knees, he gave the vampire a pained glare.

"See how you like being drained, you wanker," Spike spat out as the demon gave one last gurgling moan before falling backward onto the grass.

Seconds later Buffy stood over the lifeless body and swung a sword down, swiftly beheading Fen. "Just to be on the safe side," she said in answer to his raised eyebrow. He nodded and managed a wan smile before the last of his dwindling strength left his body entirely. With a pained groan, his eyes rolled back as he fell forward and landed, face first, in a lifeless heap at Buffy's feet.

END CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15 - Part I - Absolution

Buffy cast one last look over the sleeping vampire in her bed then let out a sigh and closed the bedroom door behind her before slowly walking to the stairs. It had been a hell of an evening and she was shattered.

When Spike had fallen unconscious at her feet earlier that evening, she'd been terrified that she'd been too late after all and he was going to turn to dust in front of her very eyes. The thought had held her immobile for a few seconds and it had taken Xander's totally inappropriate, "I can't feel a pulse," comment as he'd dropped to his knees and held up Spike's wrist, to snap her out of her frozen state and into Slayer mode.

Giving out orders left and right, they'd soon had the vampire back at her house and that's when they'd had their first good look at his shockingly debilitated condition. Reminiscent of when he'd first been chipped, Spike's excessive blood loss had him looking gaunt to the point of starvation. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his cheekbones looked as if they could cut through his skin at any moment enhancing his sunken appearance.

Unsteadily, Buffy had asked Xander and Giles to take him to her room and put him in her bed while she warmed some blood. They'd complied then Willow and Tara had volunteered to fix up Spike's wound but the Slayer had been insistent that she would do it herself. They'd not pushed and had decided to make themselves useful in the kitchen preparing sandwiches and snacks instead. Dawn volunteered to help them while Buffy warmed some of the blood she'd put in the fridge the night of her and Spike's disastrous date.

When the men had come back down, Giles had declined any food saying that he would go but that he would be back the next day with fresh blood as Spike would need more than what she had in the fridge. Suitably choked about his thoughtfulness, Buffy had engulfed him in an emotional bear-hug that initiated a full five minutes of awkward stammering and spectacle cleaning from the normally stoic Watcher before he finally left.

Xander had also said he had to go as Anya wanted to go back to the shop so she could complete her cashing up for the day. Before he left, Buffy had also hugged him tight and thanked him for what he'd said to help Spike. Xander had merely smiled and nodded, both knowing that his dislike for Spike wasn't quite as intense as before.

Grabbing one of the sandwiches, Buffy had then taken the blood up to Spike and tried to get him to drink. Unable to rouse him, even when she smeared some of the pig's blood on his lips, Buffy knew she had to do something...and quick. Going into the bathroom, she'd grabbed some bandages, gauze and a pair of scissors before going back to her room.

Dropping the supplies on her bedside cabinet, she'd held onto the scissors and used them to make a small incision along the inside of her forearm just under where the Monu had left his mark the night before. Holding it over one of the mugs, she'd allowed her blood to drip into it for a few seconds then repeated the action with the other before wrapping a bandage crookedly around the cut.

If the smell of Slayer blood wasn't potent enough to lure him from his unconscious state, then nothing would. Turning back to the blond, she'd then sat on the bed and lifted his head slightly as she once more placed the mug to his mouth.

This time when the viscous fluid had touched his cracked lips, he'd stirred and weakly ran his tongue along his bottom lip. Seeing this, Buffy had immediately pushed the mug more firmly into him, almost forcing him to take the liquid down. Although he'd never actually woken up fully, he'd roused himself enough to drain that mug and the second dry before collapsing back into unconsciousness once more.

She 'd stayed with him for another couple of hours after that, cleaning and dressing his wound, eating her food...just watching him. Then, deciding she better get him more blood, she'd reluctantly left the room

Quietly walking down the stairs, Buffy entered the kitchen and saw Willow sitting at the breakfast counter drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies.

"Hey," she greeted tiredly, "I thought you'd be in bed by now."

"Nah, I thought I'd wait up for you. Tara took Dawnie up about half an hour ago, she was falling asleep in her drink," Willow explained with a small smile. "So, how is he? Did he wake up yet?"

"Nope, not yet," the Slayer replied. "I just came down to get more blood."

"I'll get it ready," the redhead offered as she stood up. "Why don't you sit down and I'll pour you out a hot chocolate too."

"Thanks, Will, that'd be great," Buffy said with a grateful smile as she sunk down onto a stool and took a cookie from her friend's plate.

Willow placed a steaming mug in front of her then opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of bags of blood. Emptying them into fresh mugs, she placed one in the microwave, pressed the timer and hit the start button. As it whirred into life, she turned back to her friend who had just finished her cookie.

"So, how you holding up?" Willow asked, the concern for Buffy evident on her face.

"I'm fine," Buffy replied wryly. "But then, it wasn't me that almost had all the blood drained out of my body by a psycho, ugly ass, once upon a time demon-brownie that had me in a mega thrall, was it?"

"No, it was you that had to watch someone she loves being hurt and not be able to do a thing about it," the redhead countered quietly. Her face softened and she reached out to lay a comforting hand on her friend's arm. "You can't blame yourself for this, Buffy..."

"Can't I?" the blonde demanded harshly. "It is my fault after all. If I hadn't caused that argument last night, Spike wouldn't have been in his crypt tonight. He'd have been here, with me, happy. Not alone and feeling miserable just because I was annoyed that things didn't go my way." Her voice broke slightly on the last and she closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, willing the tears not to fall. She had no right to feel sorry for herself when Spike lay upstairs a victim of her selfish actions.

Willow sighed and moved around the counter to place an arm around her distraught friend and bring her into a hug. "Hey, I felt the same way when Tara got brain sucked by Glory. We'd had that row and I wasn't there to help her...I blamed myself totally for what had happened, but...Tara didn't. We talked after she was better and she said that knowing I loved her kept her strong...that and the fact that she really didn't know much about anything going on around her..."

Buffy couldn't help but laugh and pulled away from her friend's embrace to look up at her. "So, what are you saying? If I'm lucky, Spike won't remember anything?"

The redhead smiled then her face took on a look of determination Buffy knew only too well. "No, I'm saying that there's no room for blaming yourself here, Missy. It was no-one's fault but Fen's and he's gone. All that matters now is that you love Spike and he loves you and once he wakes up I'm gonna knock both your heads together and leave you in a locked up room until you get things sorted out."

"Yes, Willow," Buffy replied in what she hoped passed as a contrite voice.

The witch nodded curtly. "Right, now, finish your drink while I heat the other mug and then get yourself up those stairs and tend to your vampire."

Buffy obediently downed her hot chocolate then picked up the tray with the two warmed mugs of blood that Willow had placed on the counter. "Thanks, Will, I'll see you in the morning."

"Night Buffy," the redhead replied as she watched her friend go back up the stairs before turning to make a start on cleaning up the dirty dishes.

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Spike fought against the blackness surrounding him as ineffectually as someone endeavouring to swim through tar. In a desperate attempt to regain consciousness, he struck out at the enveloping cloak of nothing but he was weak, frighteningly so and couldn't seem to break through.

Suddenly, scattered memories of what had happened with Fen began flashing through his brain so fast he had trouble sorting them out at first. He remembered the demon being at his crypt and vaguely recalled the walk to Rosewood. Stabbing pain to the chest. Blood draining. Then voices talking...no...he was talking, pouring out his pain and guilt. Fen egging him on, draining him further. Then Buffy...Buffy was there...helping him, soothing him, encouraging him.

Loving him.

She'd said she loved him.

His joy at her words then his disbelief swiftly followed by the Whelp reinforcing what Buffy had said. Then he was free, free to kill Fen and he did so with his last ounce of strength.

After that, nothing visual, just sounds, smells and tastes. Scoobies muffled murmurs, him being carried then laid on something soft, gentle hands touching him, soothing him. Then blood at his lips, so near, so hungry, but he couldn't seem to get his fragile body to respond. A pause, then blood at his lips again, soft voice coaxing and...something else. Something potent that made him react immediately and instinctively, draining first one cup that he was offered dry and then another. He knew he should recognise what it was as the viscous fluid hummed through his starved system but tiredness took over at an alarming rate and he lost what tenuous hold he'd had on staying awake.

Now though, he wasn't going to succumb so easily. He still felt weak but not as pathetically so as before. Struggling once more, he finally felt the oppressive darkness lighten slightly and began to become more and more aware of his immediate surroundings.

He was laying on a bed. Soft pillow under his head, a thin sheet covering him, no shirt but still in his jeans. And Buffy's scent all around him like a comforting embrace...Oh God, he was in her bedroom!

That realisation jolted him so much that the blackness enveloping him began to recede even further as the oncoming rush of consciousness raced to the fore.

Determinedly, he forced his eyes open a crack then quickly shut them again as the world swam hazily in front of him. A couple of seconds later, he called himself a prat and tried again. This time when he opened his eyes, he rode out the crazy tilting and swaying of the room until his vision began to focus better.

Gingerly, he tried moving an arm and was relieved to find that his body seemed to finally be listening to him once more. His attempt at sitting up, however, was less successful as it was met with a sharp pain in his chest, reminding him of the fact that he'd been stabbed.

Looking down at himself, he saw that there was a bandage covering his wound and wondered if Buffy had been the one to tend to him. He certainly couldn't discern much of anyone else's scent in the room to suggest otherwise and felt a rush of pleasure mixed with disappointment, run through him. Pleasure that she'd helped him and disappointment that he'd missed it.

Dropping his head back on the pillow, he closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to get passed the dry lump in his throat. If it weren't for the fact that he was laying in Buffy's bed and starving hungry, he'd have sworn that everything that happened with Fen was yet another one of his guilt induced nightmares.

Debating whether or not to call out for attention, he suddenly heard a creak on the stairs outside. Straining to listen harder, he could just make out the sound of someone coming up the steps.

Hoping against hope that it was the Slayer and not one of the other Scoobies, he kept quiet and waited to see if anyone would enter.

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Buffy carefully carried the tray up the stairs and into the bathroom. Pulling open a drawer, she picked up the scissors she'd put back earlier, then pushed up the sleeve of her blouse. Moving the bandage aside, she deftly reopened her cut and let the precious fluid drip into the mugs. Satisfied she'd added enough, she carefully recovered the wound and washed the scissors before putting them away.

Leaving the bathroom, she balanced the tray in one hand as she opened the door to her room and quietly entered. Glancing over at Spike, she saw that although he looked considerably better, his eyes were still closed. With a sigh, she walked over to the bed and placed the tray on the bedside cabinet. This time when she looked down at the vampire, she let out a small gasp of surprise. Blue eyes stared back at her from half closed lids. "Hey, you're awake," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I had all the blood drained out of me," he croaked out in reply. "How do I look?"

She gave him a small smile. "Like you've had all the blood drained out of you."

"Good. Nothing worse than feeling a bit under the weather but still looking like you could go ten rounds with a Fyarl," he mumbled as his eyes drifted shut again. "Sorry, pet, feeling a touch exhausted."

"Well try to stay awake for a few more minutes so you can drink the blood I brought you," said Buffy as she picked up one of the mugs.

Spike opened his eyes and weakly attempted to push himself up into a sitting position but couldn't find the strength. "Soddin' hell!" he muttered in frustration as he collapsed back onto the bed.

"Well, wait a minute and I'll help you," Buffy informed him with a touch of irritation as she sat herself down on the edge of the bed with her back against the headboard. "I didn't mean for you to try and sit up by yourself yet, you're still too weak."

"Rub it in, why don't you, Slayer?" he growled unhappily. "And how the hell am I supposed to eat if I can't..." His voice tapered off in surprise when he felt the Slayer's right arm slip under his head and carefully raise him slightly. He was further amazed when she then manoeuvred herself in behind him so that his head and shoulders rested back against her chest and her arm wrapped around his waist.

"Comfy?" she asked.

Unable to resist, he wiggled his shoulders and head, snuggling even further into her embrace. A sudden intake of breath from the woman behind him, quickly followed by the faint scent of her arousal had him smiling smugly. "Am now."

Knowing that he'd rubbed against her on purpose, she tutted as if irritated but couldn't hold back the wry smile that formed as she leaned forward over his shoulder and brought the filled mug around to the vampire's mouth. "Okay, Mr. Fidget-Ass, that's enough of that. Just drink this so we can get both get some sleep tonight," she ordered dryly as she tried to subdue the tingling that she still felt all over her body at his deliberate, almost sensuous movement.

Enjoying the feel of being effectively held in her arms, Spike obediently opened his mouth and began to swallow the fluid as she tipped up the mug. He drained it so fast, it took a second or two for him to realise that the cup didn't just contain pig's blood. Before he could question Buffy, however, she had put the empty mug down and picked up the second one, shoving it under his nose. Hunger had him latch onto the cup straight away and, that too, was drained in record time.

Eyes closing, he allowed himself to relish the welcome feeling of the blood flowing through his system. It hummed and danced along his veins beginning to give him back his lost strength and helping to further clear his still groggy head. In fact, it was that emerging clarity that had his eyes snapping back open as he realised just exactly what had been added to his dinner. It was human blood. And not just any human, either. Oh, no. This was Slayer blood. Buffy's blood.

Needing to be absolutely sure, Spike grabbed the hand that was resting on his waist and lifted her arm as he roughly pushed the sleeve of her blouse up to reveal the small, crooked bandage. Inhaling deeply, he could smell that the wound was still fresh without even having to pull back the crepe and check.

Just having her blood...having through his veins was potent, wonderful...and very, very wrong. The all familiar feelings of guilt began worming their way into his head but, for the first time since his perceived failure on the Tower, Spike was damned if he was going to let his destructive thoughts win.

Instead, for once, he allowed the also present, but constantly repressed, intense feelings of longing and love to flow freely through him. She'd said she loved him and although he could doubt the words, he couldn't doubt the action...that simple fact was that Buffy wouldn't have freely offered her blood to him like that if she didn't feel something for him.

Would she?

Suddenly, he had to know. Had to hear her say the words to him again without the haze of Fen's thrall making everything seem like a distant dream. Tilting his head to the side, he looked up at her in part wonderment and part incredulity then tightened his grip on her hand. "Why?" he asked, hoarsely.

"Because you wouldn't drink anything and I couldn't just leave you to starve," she replied, her face taking on a pained look at the memory.

It wasn't the answer he wanted. Abruptly releasing her hand, he looked away in disappointment. "So, that's all it was then?" he asked, dissatisfaction making his tone harsher than he intended. "Pity? You felt sorry for me and thought you'd do your do-gooder thing and give the pathetic vamp some of your blood? Bit extreme, don't you think? Even for you."

A couple of months ago, his abrasiveness would have earned him a scathing retort from Buffy followed by a threat to stake him once and for all. Now, however, the Slayer saw the words for what they really were...a way to cover up his hurt. And she had hurt him, albeit unwittingly, she suddenly realised. He'd been needing reassurance and all she'd given him was a non committal reply that could just have easily applied to a stray dog.

Man, she really needed to work on that.

Biting her lip, she decided that trying to hold a conversation while looking at him upside down wasn't the best way to convey what she needed to say. Lifting him away from her slightly, she manoeuvred herself around until she was sitting on the edge of the bed then gently lowered Spike's head onto her lap.

Looking down at him, she saw that, although he hadn't resisted her touch, he still wasn't looking at her. Gathering her thoughts, she absently began running her left hand through his hair, then, taking a deep, calming breath, she started to speak in a low voice.

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Willow put the last of the dishes away then wearily climbed the stairs to go to bed. Pausing by Buffy's door for a moment, she leant close and heard the murmuring of voices. Looked like Spike was awake and they appeared to be talking. Like normal people. With no arguing or anything. Seemed like there wouldn't be a need to lock them in after all.

"Bloody hell!"

Uh-oh...on second thoughts...

She waited for Buffy's raised voice in return but when the murmuring started up again she pulled away in relief. With a happy smile she entered her bedroom and quickly undressed before slipping under the covers and sidling up to her girlfriend.

"Everything, okay?" Tara asked sleepily as she felt Willow's arms come around her waist and a soft nuzzling at her neck.

"Just fine," the redhead replied with a sigh as she nestled closer, the warmth of Tara's body lulling her into sleep.

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"I meant what I said tonight, you know? Every word. I have noticed the differences in you, Spike. We all have. And it isn't just because of the chip...heck, we both know you could've got around that little obstacle if you wanted to." Buffy paused then placed her right hand on his chest over his heart, her voice growing tender as she continued, "It's you that's changed. Deep inside. I may have been the catalyst but the way you look after Dawn and everyone else...even Xander, although you'll both never admit to it...well...that's all you. You striving become a better person. A better man. And you are." Slowly, he turned his head to stare at her in amazement and she smiled as she added, "So, of course giving you some of my blood wasn't out of pity you dumb vampire...it was because I wanted too. Because I care. Because...I. Love. You."

Spike's eyes widened and he swallowed hard as he saw the truth shining back from her hazel depths. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, his dead heart fairly exploding with happiness. She meant it! She bleedin' well meant every wonderful, bloody, word!

Buffy's eyebrows lifted. "Okay, so not the reaction I was expecting," she commented wryly. "I mean, I can understand you not saying anything before, you know, being all Enthralled Guy and everything but I was kind of hoping for something a little more positive this time around."

Spike continued to stare at her with a mixture of disbelief and shock as his brain tried to comprehend the enormity of what she'd just admitted. The Slayer felt a light blush creep slowly up her face at his silent perusal. Had she just made the biggest idiot out of herself after all? "You know, you're starting to freak me out a little here," she informed him uncomfortably. "Have I really stunned you into silence or are you stalling before telling me that you don't actually feel the same way about me anymore?"

He blinked in response then shook his head slightly as he came out of his daze. "Give a bloke a chance, Slayer," he said slowly. "It's not everyday you have your wildest dreams handed to you on a silver platter, you know. Takes a minute or two to get used to."

Buffy felt some of the tension ease from her body as he spoke and gave him a small smile. "Are you saying that you do still feel the same, then? Because, I've gotta tell you...after these last couple of weeks with your whole guilt trip and the acting all distanc-y and everything...reassurance would definitely be of the good right about now."

Spike closed his eyes briefly as if composing himself then opened them again, allowing her to see everything that he felt for her swirling within the cerulean depths. "Of course I still love you, Buffy. Never doubt that for a second." He gave a wry smile. "God knows, I've tried my damndest to stop it, mind you...but I can't. It's always going to be you. Always." Eyes never leaving hers, he took hold of the hand resting on his chest then brought her arm to his mouth and gently kissed the untidy wrap that covered her cut. "Even more so after giving me such a precious gift," he told her unsteadily as he lowered both their arms. "You'll never be rid of me now, love. Never."

Buffy felt her breath hitch at the unexpected gesture then smiled softly and gently extricated her hand from his grasp. Cupping his cheek, she slowly bent forward until their faces were mere millimetres apart then paused briefly to stare deep into his eyes as she whispered fiercely, "Oh Spike, haven't you realised yet? I don't want to be rid of you. Ever."

Spike's pupils dilated dramatically at her declaration and, with a quickness that belied his weakened state, he reached up and pushed his hand into her hair. Lightly gripping her head, he gave her one last searching look before closing the remaining distance between them and pressing his lips to hers in a surprisingly tender kiss.

Slowly, their mouths moved against each other in lazy measure as they relished the taste and feel of each other lips. Distant memories of previous spell induced meetings and grateful chaste offerings were replaced with the loving reality of their first, true, kiss.

"Is that enough reassurance for you, pet?" Spike asked softly when they eventually parted and he stared up into her slightly glazed eyes.

"Not nearly," she murmured before leaning in to capture his lips for a searing kiss.

Again and again their mouths met, breaking apart for scant seconds before joining once more as the heat between them grew. Their kisses became more passionate until, tentatively, Spike ran his tongue along her bottom lip, requesting an entrance that Buffy granted willingly, allowing their tongues to meet and begin an entirely new dance between them.

The tempo slowed and soon the languid thrust and parry of their erotic duel had Buffy clutch at his hair convulsively as her other hand left his face and began a downward descent across his bandaged chest and onwards to his taut abdomen. Feeling his muscles tense slightly under her touch, she instinctively began caressing the smooth skin there, moving her hand in large, excruciatingly slow circles that dipped a little lower at each pass of his waistband.

Spike moaned and gripped her head tighter, pulling her closer to him as he plundered her mouth while his body burned and hardened from her tormentingly unhurried movement. He'd never felt so alive, so turned on, so...dizzy as all hell!

Bloody, buggering crap.

Just as her hand brushed the top of his waistband, he pulled back from their kiss sharply and let go of her head to place his now free hand over his closed eyes as let his head drop heavily back onto her lap with a groan.

Buffy froze and looked down at him in concern. "Spike?" she questioned, worriedly. "You okay?"

Weakly, he nodded his head. "Just dizzy," he growled in frustration. "Right when it was getting to the good part as well. Now I know I'm damned."

The Slayer let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't anything serious but couldn't help but chuckle at his ticked off expression. "Either that, or you just need more blood," she pointed out reasonably.

At the sound of her laugh, he took his hand away from his face then opened his eyes a crack only to hastily shut them again with a grimace as her smiling features swam blearily above him. "Yeah, could be that," he agreed. "Especially since your groping around caused what little blood I do have in me to rush due south. Can't expect a vamp to stay coherent in that condition."

She was about to indignantly deny the fact that she'd been 'groping' him but the words died on her lips when she looked down to where he gestured in the general direction of his pants. There, for anyone with even the most chronic of eyesight problems to see, was the rather impressive evidence of what their impassioned kissing and her wandering hand had done.

'Wow'...with a triple helping of 'Yum,' she thought as her tongue darted out to run over her lips in anticipation of what lay beneath the black denim.

A light cough had her dragging her gaze away from his crotch and looking back up at his face. Colouring slightly, she saw that he'd opened his eyes again and was watching her reaction with a raised eyebrow and pleased smirk firmly in place.

Knowing she was busted and not caring in the slightest, a grin spread across her face and she shook her head. "You're a pig, Spike," she commented fondly as she gave his stomach a light slap.

"Wouldn't want me any other way, Slayer," he replied with knowing grin that quickly faded as a sudden wave of exhaustion claimed his body once more. Against his will, Spike felt his eyelids begin to droop, the emotional turmoil of the last few days, coupled with not yet having enough blood, taking its toll. "God, Buffy, I'm sorry but I'm wrecked," he admitted with a yawn.

Seeing how tired he'd become, Buffy carefully moved out from under him and laid him gently back down on the bed. At his muttered objection, Buffy hushed him, saying, "You need to get some more rest, Spike. Don't worry, I'll still be here when you wake up so go to sleep."

As she looked down on him, he nodded slightly and she turned to the bedside cabinet in order to take the used mugs downstairs and rinse them out. As she reached for the tray, she was startled when Spike's hand shot out and grabbed her arm. "Thought you were staying," he accused, eyeing her sleepily.

"I'm just going to clean these up then I'll be back," she replied.

"No. Stay," he entreated with a tug on her arm. "Please."

Buffy smiled at the beseeching look on his face and couldn't do anything but nod. "Okay."

Releasing his hold, he watched her walk to the other side of the bed then sit down on the edge and bend forward to take off her boots. Straightening, she looked over her shoulder at him with a smile then turned and flipped back the sheet. Bringing her legs up, she slid under the cover and drew it over herself as she stretched out on her back next to him. Letting out a sigh, she relaxed and closed her eyes in preparation for sleep.

Turning his head to look at her quiet form, he frowned. "You're too far away," he grumbled after a few moments silence.

"I'm lying right next to you," she replied patiently.

"No you're not," he refuted sulkily. "There's a gap."

Buffy opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at the scant inch that separated their bodies. "It's hardly the Grand Canyon, Spike," she commented dryly before closing her eyes again and letting her head drop back on the pillow. "Go to sleep, I'm tired."

He let out a huff of disapproval but fell quiet...for about two seconds. "The light's bothering me."

"Turn it off then."

A tut. "Can't you do it?"

"Spike, the lamp is right next you."

"But I'm still feeling rough, pet. Haven't even got the energy to lift my arm." Silence. "Come on, Slayer, I can't get to sleep with it shining right in my eyes like that."

"Oh, all right!" Buffy cried throwing her hands up in defeat. Pushing up onto her left elbow, she leaned across his chest and reached over to switch of the lamp. Before she knew what hit her, his right arm was about her waist, clamping her to him and his left snaked out to flip the light off, plunging the room into darkness.

"Oh, sneaky!" Buffy exclaimed as she snuggled further into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Are you happy now?"

"Couldn't be more so, love," he replied as he pulled her even closer to him and dropped a kiss on top of her head.

"Good, now go to sleep."

"Yes, pet."

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It took a couple of days for Spike to get up to full strength again and it was during that time that he and Buffy talked everything through. She explained about how she'd come to realise her feelings for him and all about Willow's plan. That had raised a chuckle from him, especially when she talked about their disastrous date that never was.

"You see, where you went wrong was that you just weren't obvious enough," he'd told her wryly.

"Spike, I was dressed like a ho!" she'd pointed out indignantly.

"Looked like you were dressed for a normal night clubbing at the Bronze to me," he'd retorted with a shrug before letting out a pained exclamation as the Slayer slapped him upside his head.

His mood had changed then as the rest of the evening came flooding back and he had remembered when she'd got hurt. The guilt and self-hate had returned but he'd quickly reined the emotions in before they overwhelmed him as had happened in the past.

Unfortunately, just a glimpse of his previous unhappiness had caused him to pull away from her both mentally and physically. Buffy had recognised this and once more reassured him of her feelings before drawing him into a hug, refusing to allow him to wallow. It was then that she'd explained that Willow and Giles had done some more research on Fen and they had come up with the possibility that the one time Brownie might have used some magicks.

"They think that Fen may have been able to force heightened emotions within demons so that it'd make it easier for him to home in on his prey," she'd enlightened him quietly.

"So, what are saying?" Spike had replied stiffly. "That I don't really feel guilty over the Bit? Or you? That I just made it all up?"

He'd got increasingly agitated but Buffy had merely shook her head and smiled. "No, what you felt was very real, just maybe not quite at that level of intensity. That's good though, right? It means that we can work through this and move on."

He'd stared at her for a long while, digesting what she'd said and cautiously allowed the internal wall he erected to control his emotions down a little. Yes, the tumultuous emotions were still there, especially where Dawn was concerned, but Buffy had been right, they didn't seem to be anywhere near as intense as they had been.

At that realisation, he'd relaxed his tight control internally and allowed the rest of the wall to collapse. Deep down, he didn't think he'd ever really forgive himself for letting Dawn or Buffy get hurt but at least, it seemed, his feelings wouldn't be ruling him so entirely any longer.

He'd given her a hesitant smile then leaned in for a soft kiss which she'd eagerly returned. They indulged themselves for a few more minutes until Buffy had pulled back and told him firmly that they still had things to discuss. She'd then gone on to talk about the phone call to Angel. Spike had dreaded hearing about her conversation with her ex but when she finally related all the details, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved...and amazed...at what had passed between them. He didn't quite understand her sudden laughter as she spoke about Cordelia but grinned anyway just because she was so happy.

He, in turn, had then shared his thoughts with her. Even though she'd already heard most of what he had to say, she understood his need to tell her face to face and listened to all he had to say.

Once they had cleared up things between them, it had been time for him to face Dawn. Buffy had told him that her sister had been distraught over his guilt, believing it was her fault. It had pained Spike that she had thought this and had spoken to the girl as soon as he was able. It hadn't taken long for Dawn to forgive him and they were soon sharing a joke and a hug, especially when she'd handed him back his cherished duster that she retrieved from the cemetery.

He'd also given his thanks to Willow and Tara for their help and then offered a stilted thanks to Giles for getting more blood and offered an even more awkward one to Xander for helping convince Spike of Buffy's affections. There had been the barest coming together of hands as a form of handshake and then both had looked incredibly embarrassed. Shortly after, the carpenter had then made the predicted warning in regards to Spike hurting Buffy equalling a dusty end which had been wholeheartedly supported by Giles with a resounding, "Hear, hear."

Spike had merely nodded in response. He didn't feel the need to justify himself to them. Buffy and Dawn were all that mattered and they knew how he felt well enough.

So, all in all it had been an interesting couple of days and now, he was back at his crypt getting ready to meet up with Buffy in an hour. It was Halloween and there was a costume party at the Bronze. He'd let her cajole him into going, all the while knowing he would, simply because she'd asked him to. Naturally, he'd refused to dress up but she'd just laughed and teasingly told him that with his hair and retro dress sense, he wouldn't need to anyway.

He'd made a token protest, which she'd quickly silenced with a blazing kiss that had left them both panting and aching for more. He had to admit, even after everything that had been said between them and the too few, incredibly hot kisses they'd shared, he still didn't quite believe it was all actually happening.

But it was and several bruises of varying colour from self-inflicted pinches adorned his arms as proof. If he hadn't woken up as a result of them then he was either in a coma or it was real. Either way, he'd never been happier.

Stripping off his T-shirt, he rummaged around in his chest of drawers for a clean pair of jeans and his black button up shirt. Before he changed, he paused then glanced around at his bedroom and viewed the mess critically. An empty blood bag lay on the floor amongst two discarded whisky bottles, the sheets on his bed hadn't been changed in...forever and various items of dirty clothing were laying in little piles about the room.

Not the most ideal surroundings for seduction. And that's what he had planned for tonight after the party...a long slow seduction of the Slayer that would end with the pair of them both too exhausted, and too sore, to walk.

Not wasting any time, he quickly cleaned the place up and put some new sheets he'd nicked from the local store on the bed. They weren't the black satin he'd have liked but they would do...in a white, sturdy cotton kind of way. That done, he replaced a couple of nearly burned down pillar candles and then lit them in preparation of the night ahead. Happy with the lower part of his crypt, he then leapt up to the upper section and made short work of clearing up the mess there.

Job done, he quickly got changed then grabbed his duster and slipped it on. One last glance around and he was out of the door, striding off into the night.

END CHAPTER 15 - Part I

CHAPTER 15 – Part II - Loving

Buffy walked over and flopped down onto the stool next to Willow. Picking up her soda, she took a swallow then looked around at all her friends who were sat at the table. Considering their decision to attend the party at the Bronze was a last minute thing, they'd been reasonably lucky with their costumes.

Xander and Anya had turned up as a doctor and saucy nurse. Naturally, the ex-vengeance demon had wasted no time in telling the rest of them that they would be putting their costumes to good use later that night as well, causing Buffy to wonder if they'd actually had them at home already.

Willow and Tara were cute in their matching clown outfits that consisted of a multicoloured all in one suit, white gloves and over-sized boots. They'd painted their faces with typical 'happy clown' looks and each topped off their garb with a large brightly coloured, curly-haired wig. Green for Willow and blue for Tara.

As for her, well, she'd chosen hers carefully. Mindful of what Angel had told her about what Spike's likes were, she'd kitted herself out accordingly…kind of. Being that she had to make a couple of alterations, her costume was entirely home made so as not to spoil something rented.

Taking another swallow of drink, she sighed and unsuccessfully tried to concentrate on the conversation around her. Although, it was full of banter and laughter, Buffy's mind once again wandered to the one question that seemed to occupy her mind completely…where the hell was Spike?!

"He's late," she suddenly complained loudly, effectively ceasing all conversation at the table. Craning her neck to look at the entrance, she added, "Do you think he's going to show?"

All her friends rolled their eyes at each other in amusement. "It's only one minute past eight and for the hundredth time…yes!" Xander replied, his grin belying the snappy tone of his words.

Buffy immediately looked back at him and then glanced around at the others. "Sorry, I guess I'm a bit nervous," she admitted with an apologetic smile.

"We kind of noticed," Willow told her dryly. "What with all the fidgety-ness and stuff."

"I know but I can't help it," the Slayer replied, her eyes darting back to the entrance just in time to see the blond vampire walk in and look around the room. "Oh God, he's here."

Spike spotted her at just about the same moment and sauntered over to the table, his eyes never leaving her. "Hello," he greeted as he came to stop opposite her.

"Hey," she responded with a coy smile.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before he remembered the rest of the gang and reluctantly dragged his gaze away from the blonde vision in front of him to acknowledge the others at the table. "Anya, Harris," he said with a brief nod in their direction. Turning to the other couple also seated at the table, he paused, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took in the witches attires and fuzzy hair before he finally added, "Coco, Buttons."

Willow and Tara rolled their eyes good humouredly and said hello back before Tara stood and grabbed her girlfriends hand. "Come on, Sweetie, let's go and dance."

"With these shoes?" the redhead squeaked in horror as she gestured to her feet.

"Don't worry, we'll go with you and form a circle," Xander promised as he, too, stood. "But no handbags." Taking hold of Anya's hand, he urged her to get up and followed the two women out onto the dance floor and were soon lost amongst the crowd.

"Alone at last," Spike remarked as walked around the table. He was about to sit down on the stool that Willow had just vacated when he got his first good look at her outfit and a purely masculine appreciative smile made its way across his face. “Well, don’t you look tempting,” he drawled, holding out his hands to her.

“You like?” Buffy asked as she slipped her hands into his and stood up.

“Very much, love,” he told her as he took a step back and opened his arms wider to give her body a slow, lingering appraisal from head to toe. Her hair was down with a pair of short red horns adorning her head. Her form fitting top was made of a red stretchy material and had a modest scooped neckline. She'd coupled this with a scarlet pair of impossibly tight, satin look, hot pants. Her bronzed legs were bare and seemed to go on forever until they reached the strappy, red sandals upon her feet.

With a lick of his lips, he lowered her arms and stepped back up to her again. “Feeling a little devilish tonight, pet?” Spike asked in a low voice as he pulled her arms around to encircle his waist, bringing her closer.

"Oh yeah," she responded with a wicked smile. "Definitely."

The vampire grinned then leaned in to capture her lips in a hard kiss. His hands released hers to travel along her arms, up to her shoulders then down her back to her rear where his touch came across something unexpected.

A tail!

The thought of different ways he could use that later had him squeeze her backside hard and pull her even closer against him so that she was left with no doubt whatsoever what effect she was having on him.

"Wanna go to my place?" he asked urgently when they parted so Buffy could draw some air into her starved lungs.

"God, yes!" she gasped, still clutching onto him.

Releasing his grip, Spike eased her back from him and took her hand then turned to the exit. He'd barely taken a step before she halted him. "Wait, I need to get a couple of things first and say goodbye to the guys."

For a moment it looked as though he wasn't going to listen and drag her out anyway, but then he gave her a curt nod and said, "Alright, but make it quick, Slayer. Don't really want our first time to be in the middle of a cemetery, but it will be if I don't have you soon."

Heat immediately suffused her body, his frank words and intense look cranking her own arousal up several notches. Unconsciously, her hand drifted up her side to tug at her neckline in an effort to cool down.

"Buffy," he half moaned, half warned as his tortured gaze followed the movement. "Shift your tail now or we'll be showing your mates a Halloween party trick they'll not soon forget, luv."

Part of her was tempted to push his buttons further, but her rational side finally spoke up and started telling her legs to move. Turning away, she bent over to pick up a paper bag from the floor by the side of her stool. Hearing his sudden harsh intake of breath, she smiled to herself then stayed bent over for a few more moments and wriggled her derriere for good measure. At his pained groan, she decided to stop her teasing and straightened up. Turning back around, she caught a brief glimpse of his game face before his human features slid back in place. "Found it," she said cheerfully as she held up the bag with an unabashed smirk.

"About time," he grumbled, his eyes briefly flicking down her body before he cleared his throat and looked away. "Now, let's find the Scoobies and get the hell out of here."

Chuckling, Buffy nodded and headed out onto the dance floor to locate the rest of the gang. They found them with surprising ease due to the wide berth they given because of the witches feet. Buffy double checked that Willow and Tara were still okay to stay at her house that night for when Dawn returned from Janice's the next morning and then suddenly found herself being forcibly dragged away by an impatient vampire. With a yelled 'goodbye' and quick wave, that the others returned with obvious amusement, she was soon outside and being marched along the sidewalk in double time.

"Caveman, much?" she asked dryly as she tried to extricate her elbow from his unrelenting grip.

"Nope. Demon much," he replied shooting her a grin and a wink.

Shaking her head, she let out a wry chuckle. "Same difference." His answer was to growl low and hasten his pace. "See? I rest my case," Buffy commented glibly and laughed when he growled even louder.

Several, almost running, minutes later, they finally reached his crypt and he threw open the door. Pulling her inside, he kicked the door shut behind them, then, without missing a beat, picked her up and threw her over his left shoulder causing the Slayer to let out a little ‘eep’ of surprise. Ignoring it, he headed over to the trapdoor that led to the lower chamber and jumped down, holding onto her firmly.

When they reached the bed, she expected him to carry on with the manhandling and dump her unceremoniously onto it. She was therefore surprised when his right hand moved up her thigh, over her bottom then came to a halt on her back. Leaning forward slightly, he then began to slowly slide her down the front of his body…inch by agonising inch, their bodies not once losing any contact. Cool leather, smooth cotton, rough denim and underneath it all was the unyielding hardness of his body. By the time her feet touched the ground, the intense friction had Buffy breathing heavily, her body awash with tingling sensation.

“What happened to impatient and demony?” she asked, trying to calm her breathing.

“Time for that later,” Spike murmured as he dipped his head and began planting soft kisses along her neck and up to her ear. “Promised myself I was going to take this nice and slow…and you know how I hate breaking my promises.”

Her answer was a sharp intake of breath and the thrust of her body against his as Spike latched onto her earlobe and sucked hard. “God, I want you,” he groaned hoarsely when he released her ear and continued his journey along her jawline.

“You’ve got me, Spike,” Buffy whispered just before he claimed her lips in a slow, drugging kiss. Striving to be a close as possible, Buffy tightened her arms around his neck, the paper bag falling unnoticed from her grip to the crypt floor.

As the kiss deepened, Spike's hand slipped under the hem of her top to first run up and then down the heated flesh of her back. The realisation that she wasn't wearing a bra slammed into his brain and straight down to his groin. Moving his hand around to her stomach and up, he pulled his body away from hers slightly in order for him to reach his goal unhindered.

Gently cupping her left breast, he then gave it a slight squeeze, the action eliciting a small moan of pleasure from the woman in his arms. Wanting to hear the noise again, he repeated the action and then lightly brushed his thumb across her hardened nipple. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Buffy let out a louder groan and pushed her chest more firmly into his hand.

As if he'd just been waiting for some kind of sign from her, Spike removed his hand then grabbed the hem of her top and jerked it up exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze. "Beautiful," he rasped before dipping his head to take one of the dusky tipped mounds into his mouth.

Buffy's eyes closed and her head dropped back as his tongue laved long, slow licks back and forth over her highly sensitised nub while his free hand came up to roughly knead and caress her other breast.

Whirls of sensation spiralled through her body sending a sudden rush of fluid to her core. "Spike," she groaned, tugging at his hair. "No. Stop."

The vampire stiffened and looked up from his ministrations to stare at her in surprised concern. "You…don't want this?" he asked falteringly.

Buffy opened her eyes and, upon seeing his worried features, immediately regretted her choice of words. "Yes, I do," she told him softly. "But I want to feel you. All of you. Without any barriers. So I know it's real."

A relieved smile spread across his face and he gave her a brief kiss. "It is real, Buffy, but if getting naked is the proof you need, I’m not gonna complain."

She laughed then took a step back out of his embrace and stretched her arms up above her head. "Well, what are you waiting for then? Go ahead and prove it."

Eyes briefly flashing gold, he shed his duster and let it fall into a heap on the floor before moving to do as she asked. Informing her that he wanted her to leave the horns on, he then stripped her top off in one fluid movement. Trailing his hands down, he paused to caress her still sensitive chest then moved on to the waistband of her shorts and tugged them open with ease. Sliding his hands around to her sides, he pushed the material down her legs and let out a groan as he saw the red, lace thong she wore. Giving the material a chaste kiss, he then removed her underwear as well.

Buffy looked down at him kneeling at her feet and smiled then toed off her sandals and kicked her shorts away. “Your turn,” she told him as she backed up to the bed and sat down on the edge.

Spike stood up. “Aren’t you going to help me?” he asked with a twinge of disappointment.

“Uh-uh,” she negated with a slight shake of her head as she lifted her legs and shifted further into the middle of the bed. Making a show of stretching out on her side, she then propped herself up on one elbow and looked him up and down. “I’m gonna watch you.”

Spike tilted his head and stared back at her, a slow smile forming on his features. Beginning with his boots, he unhurriedly removed each item of his clothing. Keeping his eyes locked on her face, he watched the play of emotions as she avidly followed his every, deliberate move. By the time he’d stepped out of his jeans, she was flushed and breathing heavily, the scent of her arousal hanging in the air surrounding him completely. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, her aroma making his already painful erection even harder.

“Come here,” she said softly. “Let me touch you.”

Opening his eyes, he saw she had moved onto her knees and walked over to the bed then climbed on so he was kneeling next to her. Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and placed it, palm down, against his chest before letting go. She, in turn, took his hand and repeated the action against her own chest.

Slowly, but surely, they began to explore each other’s bodies, their tender touches soon becoming firmer and bolder as their desire for each other grew. Urging her back down onto the bed, Spike began his sensory assault on her body in earnest. Stroking and caressing. Licking and probing. Not one part of her body remained untouched as he brought her to completion using his agile fingers and talented tongue. Then, before she'd barely had time to come down, he settled himself between her thighs and entered her for the first time.

Once fully sheathed in her hot, tight embrace, he stilled and looked down at her flushed face. “Love you,” he rasped as, of its own volition, his body began to move within her in the age old rhythm.

Buffy grasped the back of his head and brought him down for a long kiss. “Love you too,” she gasped as they broke apart, her declaration causing Spike to increase his steady tempo.

Lost in a world of sensation, each powerful surge of Spike’s hips, drew moans and murmured words of pleasure from both. Bodies sliding slickly together, Buffy eagerly met his every thrust, urging him to go faster…deeper. Together they climbed higher and higher and it wasn’t long before Spike’s even movements became more and more erratic as he strived to bring her to release while desperately trying to hold back on his own.

A hitch in her laboured breathing told him she was near and then she was crying out his name and digging her nails deeply into the taut flesh of his back as she fell over the edge for a second time that night. Feeling her release triggered the vampire’s own and he surged into her one last time, his head falling back as he let out his own impassioned roar of fulfilment before collapsing onto the satiated body beneath him.

Eyes closed, they came down slowly, enjoying the sensation of still being intimately joined until Spike gave her a soft kiss then reluctantly moved off of her. “Don’t want to crush you, pet,” he explained as she whimpered out a protest.

Holding out an arm, he smiled as she immediately moved into his embrace. Resting her head on his chest, she laid her arm across his waist and draped a leg over one of his as she let out a long sigh.

“You okay?” he asked, gently stroking her hair.

“Mmm, never been better,” she replied, snuggling in closer to him. “You definitely do nice and slow really well.”

The vampire chuckled and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “So do you, love. I can't remember ever having it so good.”

"Me either," she answered, her fingers absently tracing patterns over his abdomen and watching in fascination as his member immediately stirred back into life.

"Good," Spike growled under his breath.

Buffy rolled her eyes and lifted her head to grin up at him. "I heard that, Mr. Jealous."

"I'm not jealous…," he denied with a frown, then, at her dubious gaze, he looked away and added a muttered, "…much."

Buffy laughed at his petulant expression and reached out to turn his face towards her. "Look at it this way," she began, moving up to place a light kiss on his lips. "You may not have been first, but you get to be last and, in this case, that's the better place to be, don't you think?"

Despite the lightness of her tone, Spike saw the seriousness of her statement shining in the depths of her eyes. She was saying that this was it. For her, there'd never be another. He was all she wanted from now on. For all time. For good. Forever.

And, she was asking if that was okay with him!

A feeling of pure, unadulterated joy filled his unbeating heart. "Hell, yes!" he replied, grabbing the back of her head and jerking her to him so he could claim her mouth in a sizzling kiss.

"Wow," Buffy gasped when she was forced to break contact in order to breathe. "Guess that means we're going steady, huh?"

"Damn right," he growled then let out a sharp hiss as she suddenly climbed atop him, straddling his waist.

Grabbing his arms, she pinned them over his head and smiled seductively as she ground herself against him. "Wanna celebrate?" she asked huskily.

Spike chuckled and returned the pressure of her groin. "Like you wouldn't believe."

For the rest of the night, they celebrated their love again and again. Sometimes, fast and frantic, other times, slow and tender, sometimes both…but always with a verbal affirmation of their feelings.

xxxxxxxxxx

Buffy flopped onto her back after their latest session of lovemaking and stretched lazily. "Anya was right, you know?"

Spike looked over at her blankly. "What?"

"Anya," the Slayer repeated turning her head to gaze back at him. "She said that vampires have amazing stamina and can go all night long. She was right. You do."

"Dare I ask how she knows that?" Spike queried with a raised eyebrow.

"From what she said, I think she dated a vampire once."

Spike let out a snort of laughter. "And how did the Whelp take that little slice of interesting news?"

"I think he was too embarrassed by the fact that Anya was giving me sex tips to take it in," Buffy informed him wryly.

Spike chuckled and shook his head. "Like you need any tips," he commented, his gaze raking down her nude body and back again. "One look at you in that outfit tonight and I was practically on my knees begging."

"Who knew dressing up as a soccer mascot would get you so hot?" Buffy remarked flippantly.

"A soccer mascot?" he repeated with a puzzled look.

"Yeah, you know, Manchester United? Red devils?" Sitting up, she turned and leaned over the side of the bed looking for the bag she dropped. Finding it, she opened it up and pulled out a ball and a video tape, turning back to show him. "Look, I even have a replica Manchester United soccer ball and Giles recorded the latest match for you off of satellite."

Spike looked at the video and ball then sat up and took them from her before leaning in to give her a soft kiss. "You did all that for me?" he asked in awe as he pulled back.

"Mainly," she replied with a smile. "There was also the added incentive of getting into your pants."

Spike grinned and shook his head. “You could’ve just asked, pet.”

“Well, I wanted bribes as backup…you know, just in case,” she replied with a slight chuckle.

Surprised to hear an underlying nervousness in her laugh, the vampire looked up from his gifts and stared at her averted features with a concerned expression. “Buffy?” he queried gently.

“Hmm?” she murmured, not looking up.

“Everything, okay, love?” He ducked his head to get a better look at her face and was shocked to see a tear rolling down her cheek and dropping onto the sheet below. “Buffy, what’s wrong?” he demanded in concern as he reached out to cup her chin and gently coax her head back up. “Did I do something? Say something?”

“No, no, it’s not you, it’s me,” she hastily assured him with a sniff. Wiping the stray tear from her face, she gave him a shaky smile and sighed. “I think everything’s just hit me at once, you know? Glory, Dawn, Fen.” She shook her head. “Nearly losing you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Buffy,” Spike told her firmly. “Here for good, remember?”

She nodded. “I know. And I know I’m being irrational but…I was so worried when you left the house. I thought that maybe you’d go back to being all avoidy again but then you turned up and everything was perfect and I guess…I guess…” She paused and gave him another watery smile. “I guess I’m not making any kind of sense.”

Spike nodded solemnly. “Didn’t understand a bloody word, pet,” he deadpanned.

Buffy sniffed and started to laugh. Leaning forward, she flung her arms around him and held on tightly. “God, Spike, just promise me you won’t ever leave me,” she demanded suddenly.

The vampire wrapped his arms around the Slayer and held her fast. “I promise,” he whispered back.

Buffy pulled back to look at him seriously. “And I know how much you hate to break your promises,” she said, reciting his words from earlier.

Spike nodded then leaned in to brush his lips against hers. Buffy responded immediately, letting out a groan and opening her mouth to deepen the kiss. Succumbing to their desire once more, they made love knowing that whatever happened in the future they would always have each other.

THE END.