"No you don't, but thanks for saying it."




Buffy's eyes locked with his, heart pounding in her throat. The ground trembling, large chunks of rock crashing down around them, but neither one of them moved. The words hung between them as heavy in the air as the dust that continued to cascade from the ceiling.




She opened her mouth, for what? To argue with him? Say that he was wrong, though she'd spent years providing evidence to disprove that very fact? It didn't matter.


Before she had the chance to even form words (though she knew not what they would be) he had already spoken again. "Now go!"
The moment had passed. She'd missed her opportunity. It was time to leave. Swallowing hard, she let go of his hand,turned, and ran up the steps that collapsed behind her as she went. Running hard through the ruined building, the stench of blood heavy on the hot air, she thought wildly "But when the school collapses how will we get back to him?"
The idea was ridiculous of course, there was no going back now. And she'd known that the second she released his hand. Still, there was no time to dwell on this.


Her legs screamed in protest as she ran, pushing herself to run faster than she ever had before, as if her life depended on it. And it did. She made it to the bus mere feet before the yawning cavern behind her. Jumping onto the top of the bus knocked all of the air out of her but she held on gasping out "Drive."


And they did, the bus roaring forward with everybody holding on for dear life and begging any deities that came to their minds to grant them mercy. Inside Willow was sitting stock still in her seat, knuckles white and eyes screwed tightly shut. Dawn in contrast, had her eyes opened so wide they looked in danger of simply falling out of her head. Buffy muttered under her breath, "Go. Go. Go." in a sort of desperate chant, as if it were her words alone propelling the bus forward. And then, they were gone, out past the limits of Sunnydale, and the gaping hole had fallen away behind them. The bus screeched to a halt, swaying slightly as it did so.


Mechanically, without thinking about it, Buffy dropped down off the bus and autimatically accepted Dawn's hug when she jumped out of the back. Together they stepped forward. It was one of the most incredible sights she had ever seen. Where Sunnydale had been, right up to the dented city limits sign, there was now a crater miles wide. The earth had literally opened up and swallowed the town whole.


Noise seemed to have gone strangely fuzzy. She was aware of her friends around her, could hear them talking, yet couldn't make sense of the words. She felt numb, as if her very heart had been shot up with Novocaine. "What did this?" Giles's voice, suddenly sharp as if the volume had been turned up. Buffy was silent for a moment. Then simply, "Spike."


That one word suddenly brought everything crashing cruelly back into focus. Oh God. Spike. Buffy walked forward, her stride somehow steady, and looked out over what had been her home, her prison, her duty. She had to go back, to save him. He was a vampire after all, the cascade of rocks would have injured him no doubt, but not kill him. What about the sun? All those rays of light shooting through his body and out of his chest? A snide little voice whispered in her ear. The rocks might not have killed him, but as we well know, the sunlight did. Don't fool yourself Slayer, you're far past being able to save him. But she had to! She couldn't just leave him without even trying! He's a vampire, Slayer. The voice whispered back. Much better off dead, who cares? "I care!" she thought fiercely. "I care!" But why? The voice grew progressively more sinister. You've killed hundreds of vampires, thousands maybe. Why do you care about just one more?


"Because I love him!" She shot back furiously. Stop. A final piece had clicked into place. She loved him. That simple little phrase that she'd choked out in the Hellmouth, it wasn't just a final pity show of affection, a kiss before dying. She meant it, she FELT it. As she realized this, a feeling of bitter irony washed over her. For the past two years Spike had been telling her he loved her, doing everything he could just to be around her. He'd been within her grasp for a long time. Wasted. She'd cared for him for a long time, against her will, repulsed by it. She'd pushed it down so long after those months of baring herself to him in every physical way, that even after he'd made the ultimate sacrifice for her, she still denied it even to herself. His soul, he'd had his soul. Things were changing, she'd grown to depend on him in ways she couldn't even understand. He'd still stood by her when everybody else had turned their backs on her. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing she felt, nothing that she had waited far too late to say, nothing.


A smile twisted it's way onto her face. It was funny really, for years he had tried to convince her to feel this way and it was only now, after he was gone, that she could begin to grasp it. Laughter bubbled it's way out of her throat. God, or whatever it was up there that orchestrated everything that had happened to her, had a twisted sense of humor after all. Was there some greater purpose that it had? Or was it simply amusing to He/She/It to see how much it could bash her until she broke. The laughter still poured out of her, wild, psychotic. She no more had control over it than she had control over the fact that Spike was now a pile of dust consumed in the bottom of a crater. She was aware of the silence around her, surely everyone was staring as she continued that desperate, insane laugh. She felt concrete pressing against her legs. At some point, without being aware of it, she had sunk to her knees.


"Buffy." A gentle voice spoke close to her, she recognized it vaguely as belonging to Xander. "Buffy we have to go." She looked around wildly, before finally settling on his face. He looked as if he had aged thirty years since the last time she had seen him. His face was weary, it had a sort of defeated look on it that she had never seen on him before. She couldn't process a reason for this right now, her brain didn't seem to be working properly. She finally managed to stop herself laughing. "Xander" she said, her voice seemed to be very small, as if she had done the opposite of aging and regressed into the five year old version of herself. "He's dead, Xander. And I could have saved him." She said this very simply, her voice sounding faintly surprised, it in no way reflected the horror she felt inside. Xander looked at her, his face completely unreadable.


And then he said softly "I know." That was all it took. As suddenly as the laughter had started, now were the tears. It was like a giant damn had burst in her chest and before she knew what was happening she was pressed with her eyes against his shoulder, great sobs wracking her body as he held his arms wrapped tightly around her. "My fault." she choked out. "My fault. My fault. My fault."


Buffy jerked upright in bed. Sheets wrapped around her like a straightjacket, sweat soaking her body. "Just a dream." She chanted in her head. "Just a dream." Except it wasn't. For months after the day the Hellmouth collapsed and too many people she cared about died, she had been waking up in cold sweat after being forced to relieve it one more time. Even now over a year later, when she thought she'd finally allowed herself to move on, one would wake her up in the early hours of the morning leaving her shaking and wishing she still had her mother's bed to crawl into like she had when she was small and had a nightmare.


She untangled herself from her sheets and got up to walk to the window. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass and watched the cars and people move around in the streets in the city that never seemed to sleep. She was in London, in her small apartment that she and Dawn had lived in for the past four months. They had moved around a lot in the months following the activation of dozens of slayers all across the world. They had been kept very busy, it wasn't simple setting up an entire new slayer organization from scratch, with dozens of girls varying in age who had no idea what had happened to them.


It was an exhausting process moving from town to town, country to country, informing the new slayers of what was going on and trying to set up areas of control with newly appointed watchers. The hardest part was trying to establish some chain of command among all of the madness. But after long and hard work, aided by the original Watcher's council's considerable money reserves and the funding they had somehow established with the London government in years past (not to mention the fact that Willow could sense out each slayer) they were able to finally achieve a semblance of structure among the newly awakened slayer community.


It was still a uniquely strange position to be in. While Giles was the one handling the planning and money aspect of the enterprise, Buffy had somehow been thrust into position as leader of the Slayers everywhere. Seemingly overnight, she had become the stuff of legends, the girls were always awed to meet her, a situation that tended to make her uncomfortable. She supposed it made sense, after all to them she was the first slayer, the one to blaze the path before them, at least the first of them that was still living. She had expected this spotlight to be shared with Faith at least, but it was a position that Faith had quickly sidestepped. She put it very matter of factly that she had done far to many things not to be proud of as a slayer to desire being the face of inspiration to all of the fresh new ones. She still remained firmly in position as one of the head leaders of their organization, but she shied away from the personal aspect of it.


Buffy had thought that after the last slayer had been found, after she and Dawn were able to resume as close as they could get to a normal life, that maybe the dreams would go away. But every time she thought they had, she would get a few weeks, maybe a month. One would then come back with crashing clarity, sharper and more painful than ever before.


She and Xander had gotten closer than they had been in years in those weeks following Spike's death, he was the only one who could understand precisely what she was going through. It was another example of irony how Xander, who had perhaps hated Spike most of all, was now the one Buffy could rely on to understand why him being gone grieved her so. The sorrow, mixed with guilt, and just a hint of self loathing, was exactly what Xander was experiencing. They had both lost people they loved that day, people they had pushed away and had waited too long to tell how much they cared for. For a long while Xander was the only one Buffy would speak to about it. Clamming up whenever anyone else tried to broach the subject with her. It was especially awkward when people realized that the the time old cliché of "They're in a better place now." wouldn't work here. Because honestly, she knew he wasn't. She didn't like to think of it because it made her feel nauseous, but she knew very well that Spike had done truly terrible things in his life, and she knew where he was likely to go. Anya too for that matter. She had spent over a thousand years tormenting and killing men, without even the excuse of soullessness. Would the fact that she had been doing it out of self-righteousness coupled with the few years at the end of being human be enough to spare her? Buffy was unsure, and that was one subject that she never breached even with Xander.


But now enough time had passed that she had discussed it with the rest of the people closest to her, she had put her life back on track and was moving forward. She stroked the small ridge on her left hand where she had suffered extensive burns form grasping Spike's even as he caught flame. There was only the smallest section of scarring left on the back of her thumb, and even that she knew would eventually fade away completely. She wished it wouldn't, it was one small thing from him she had left.


It was strange to think it had already been over a year, the week leading up to the anniversary of the day she had been increasingly tense. She avoided cotact with everybody for days. The morning that marked exactly a year she did not get out of bed until well past noon, she just lay there, watching shadows dance on her wall. She eventually got up and dressed, but she did not go out that day. She moped around her apartment, (or flat as Giles had instructed her to call it) until finally, around six o'clock Xander showed up on her doorstep with two bags of liquor and the promise that they were going to get "Wasted enough that we don't know where we are, much less what day it is."


That night they'd drank enough that by eleven they were laughing until they cried about why Anya might have been afraid of bunnies and the time that Spike had built the Buffybot. It had been the first time they had been able to look back at things in a positive light. And the next morning when Xander left, he seemed happier, although very hungover.


She remained at the window, the glass soothing against her flushed skin. Watching the people of London start their days she promised herself, as she had every time she woke up from this same dream, that this time she was putting it in her past and was once and for all letting go.

A rustle broke the silence in the still dark room, then a clearing of a throat. Spike didn't move, instead he lay quite still with eyes shut waiting for the intruder to speak first.



The unseen person cleared their throat again, louder this time with just a hint of annoyance. Spike could smell him now, knew exactly who it was and that him being there meant Spike was needed. That didn't mean Spike was gonna make it easy on him, he had interrupted his sleep after all. More importantly, he had interrupted his dream.


The dream was never the same twice, but the most important theme never changed. Buffy. He hadn't spoken to her, hadn't laid eyes on her in over a year but that didn't mean she wasn't in his thoughts...constantly. On that day he materialized in the poof's office, his first thought (after ripping off Angel's head of course) had been to get to her. Of course this action had been rather hampered by the fact that he was left incorporeal after that damn amulet had ripped him into pieces before reforming him in the midst of the last person he wanted to see, and therefore unable to pick up a phone much less leave the city limits. Sometimes he wished that he had been able to call her that first day, because once the opportunity presented itself later on, he'd had far too much time to talk himself out of doing just that.


The reason he gave was that he couldn't possibly top the exit he made. After all, going out in a fiery death sacrificing himself to save the world and earning Buffy's declaration of love was hardly something he could imagine outdoing. She had given him too much credit for his reason to do this though. Angel was the one for big heroics, saving the world for all of the nuns, schoolchildren, and puppy dogs. Spike's reason was much simpler.


Buffy.


He would not live in a world without Buffy, not again. He would have done anything to ensure her continued survival, even if it meant giving up his own. He saved the world simply because Buffy was in it, everybody else was just a bonus. However, as valid a reason as this was, it was not why he wouldn't let her know he was alive. The real reason was something else that couldn't be topped. She'd told him she loved him. She knew he was dying, that there would be no tomorrow for him, so she would never have to accept what saying these words would mean. He wasn't foolish enough to think she hadn't cared for him, he was sure by the end she had. But caring for somebody and loving them, truly loving them, were two very different things. In truth, as long as he stayed away from her, he could delude himself into thinking that maybe she had meant it. And as long as she didn't see him again, she could hold on to the idealized memory of him, him as the hero. He couldn't bear the thought of going back, after she had already moved on to someone else, and back to the reality that they couldn't possibly have had a future together anyway.


After all, even pushing into the shadows everything that had happened between them in years past, there still remained one simple fact. He was a vampire. Even if they somehow managed to work everything else out, it didn't change the fact that she would age and he would not. They could live life happily ignoring that for as much as ten, maybe twenty years. But eventually time would catch up with them. And Buffy deserved a future, a real future. One with children, normalcy, and man who could take her in the sunlight. All things Spike could never give her. She deserved better than him, and he was not going to stand in her way.


"Spike." Gunn's annoyed voice shook Spike out of his reverie. Spike couldn't pretend not to hear him anymore. Inwardly rolling his eyes, he opened his actual ones. Gunn was standing at the foot of his bed wearing his standard hoodie and a sour expression. Spike wasn't particularly surprised by the look on Gunn's face, in the past months there hadn't been a lot for him to be happy about. They were alive, that was one thing. This was no small accomplishment considering what they had been up against. But as always, it had come at a steep cost. They all went that night expecting death, and some found it, but what nobody had expected was the sacrifice that Ilyria herself had been willing to make.


Standing in that alleyway, confronted by the hoards of demons the likes of which they had never seen, Angel, Gunn, and Spike himself had been steeling themselves for their last great battle. But while they were doing this, Ilyria simply stated "I wish to do more violence." and calmly walked forward into the hoard alone. What happened next Spike could hardly explain, if asked to retell the story he would find himself at a loss for words. Ilyria seemed to open up,her chest tearing open right down the middle and blinding, white hot light poured out of her. There was screaming such as Spike had never heard before, horrible agonized shrieks coming from the onslaught of demons as their skin bubbled and melted right off their bones (if they had any). It was over quicker than they could have imagined, a few moments of those terrible screams as the men simply watched in shock, and then it was over and all that was left was the sickening smell of charred and melted demon flesh. It didn't always pay off to have the heightened sense of smell that came with being a vampire. Even as they stared at the wreckage the corpses, what was left of them collapsed in on themselves and melted right onto the ground.


Angel was the first one to react, he hurried to Ilyria as she lay collapsed on the ground, and knelt down to speak to her. This seemed to act as a catalyst for Spike and Gunn to move, and they followed Angel to where he knelt bent over the quickly dying demoness. It was a horrific sight, and one he never would have expected Ilyria to allow herself to become. Her skin, rather than the bluish tint that it ordinarily had, now was red and mottled from the head to toe blisters that now covered all of her visible skin. Even as they watched her skin began to disintegrate around the edges, like a piece of paper that had been lit with a match. She didn't attempt to talk, merely looked at them with a steely glint in her eyes as if daring them to challenge her actions. Within seconds she had melted away to muscles, then bone, then gone. It was victory, but it did not feel as though it was.


They collected Wesley's body and buried him the next night. They tried to return to Wolfram and Hart, tie up loose ends so to speak, but they got there only to discover that not only were the offices gone, the entire building was gone. It had vanished as though it had never been there, and nobody outside of the three of them appeared to notice its absence. Further checking revealed that every Wolfram and Hart office had done the same, they had withdrawn from this dimension. As Angel pointed out, they had not defeated the firm. Wolfram and Hart appeared to have simply written off Earth as a bad investment, and moved on. At least for now. In the three months since then, they had moved on as best they could. Angel Investigations had reformed (although Spike refused to call it that), and life went on.


But while life went on, that didn't mean it was overly pleasant. While Spike had not been around for the original run of Angel Investigations, he could only assume that it had been less grim. Admittedly the business itself must hold a sour note for Angel, too many memories of friends he had lost, many of them in the past year. Cordelia, Fred, Wesley, and even Lorne. They were shown no information to make them think he was hurt, but there had been no contact with him. Angel admitted that he did not expect him to return. So they went on "fighting the good fight" and "helping the helpless". Angel, in the hopes to earn some sort of redemption, as if this were possible. And Spike, because he felt that somehow, Buffy would want him to. The downside of his joining Angel's band of do-gooders, was that occasionally little visits such as this would happen.


"Well if you're done sleeping in, maybe we can actually get some patrolling done." Gunn said in a voice positively dripping with sarcasm. "I mean I know you need beauty sleep more than most, but you were supposed to meet us an hour ago." Spike glanced at the clock on his bedside table and the glowing red numbers showed that Gunn was right, it was well past sundown, the time when their motley band of misfits usually started their work. Spike propped himself up on one elbow and cocked on eyebrow at Gunn responding with equal sarcasm "Sorry mate, suppose I just thought you were enough of a big boy to handle a couple of demons on your own. But as it seems I'm wrong, I guess I can lend a hand." Gunn rolled his eyes and turned to walk out of the room. "Hurry up and put some pants on, we've got work to do." As the door shut behind Gunn, Spike sat up and heaved a sigh. For a vampire who spent his nights prowling the streets saving innocent people, his life (or lack of one rather) had become almost unbearably monotonous. And it was hard to get too warm and fuzzy about the people he was saving because while they were innocent, they were also usually stupid bints who didn't have the common sense not to walk home alone in the middle of the night, often wearing high heels. And the fact of the matter was that they wouldn't need saving in the first place if they just had an ounce of brains. He wouldn't stop though, every time he thought of just calling it quits and moving on to greener pastures, if such a place existed, he was reminded of the times when those girls walking alone had not been the target of annoyance, but hunger to him.


He had no delusions of earning forgiveness or redemption but he was aware that though his debt could never be repaid, he had to try. So every night he would get up and go, play his role as protector instead of predator. He joined Gunn outside his apartment, and together they started on the now familiar path through the streets. They walked automatically winding their way through the LA nightlife, their usual patrol route took them through some of the seedier parts of the town, past all the bars that respectable people wouldn't show their faces in. In other words, the perfect breeding ground for vampire activity. They had been doing this for about half an hour when a scream, as it so often did, tore through the air.


"Help! Oh God! Somebody help me, please!"


Spike and Gunn reacted purely on reflex, turning and running down the block and around a corner where they found themselves in an alley with the source of the shrieking. There was a girl backed up against a brick wall at the end, terror in her eyes as two vampires closed in on her laughing coldly. The girls eyes widened as Spike crashed his way into the alley with Gunn close behind him. The vampires spun around, their yellow eyes shining in the glow from the streetlight, and smiles pulled back over fangs.


"Well well well," the taller one said, taking a step forward. "What do we have here? A couple of brave men running to the aide of the damsel in distress. Hate to break it to you boys, but that's the last thing you'll ever do." Spike and Gunn exchanged a look, Spike sincerely hoped that his threats had never sounded this lame.

"Last thing huh?" Spike asked coolly. "I guess we'll just see about that." He snarled at them, as his face shifted into his demon visage.


This was the fun part. Spike always relished that look of surprise, as they realized that just maybe they'd bitten of more than they could chew. Metaphorically speaking of course. However the shorter vampire of the two seemed to be thicker than most. He barked out a short laugh

"Oh you're one of us huh? Well we'd love to invite you to join our little dinner, but this one is small. There'd hardly be enough to share."

Spike smiled. "I don't think that's your biggest problem right now. He sprang into motion, leaping forward and grabbing the taller one by his collarbone and swinging him around, smashing him up against the wall. He tried to lunge back at Spike, but too slow. The stake plunged into his heart just as his lips began forming the snarl.


A few feet away Gunn had disposed of the shorter, stupider vampire just as easily. Spike almost hated when they went down that easy, if there was one thing he needed sometimes, it was a good fight. Spike brushed the dust off his hands carelessly, then turned his attention to the girl who was now sitting on the ground with her knees drawn up to her chin, staring at him in shock. Spike sighed inwardly, this was the part he didn't like. He smoothed his face and stepped forward to kneel on the ground in front of her, Gunn hanging back and brushing off his now dusty hoodie.


"Wha- what were those things?" She asked shakily. Her face was white and tear-stained, and now that Spike was closer to her, her saw that she was much younger than he had originally guessed. This girl could be no older than fifteen. She had long brown hair and was wearing heavy makeup that was obviously being used to disguise her age, probably to get into some bar. But the mascara and eyeliner were now running down her cheeks and she looked like the small and terrified child she was.


"Vampires." He said matter-of-factly.


He wasn't a fan of the coddling that everyone seemed to think must go with breaking this news, softening the blow did nothing to help. If people didn't understand what it was they were facing when walking home, alone, in the middle of the night, all they would do was carry on doing it. The girl let out a sharp gasp at his words.

"Bu-bu-but vampires aren't real! They're just stories, like the Easter Bunny. Not real!"

"Well I can't speak for the Easter Bunny," Spike said "But I can pretty much promise you that vampires are real. Demons too, since we're on the subject."

The girl tried to stifle, without much success, a shaky sob. "But your face, you're one of them." A thought seemed to come to her, she pressed herself more firmly against the wall and half screamed "You're going to try and kill me too!"

Her eyes feverishly darted around the ally, obviously looking for an escape route. "Have you already forgotten that I'm the one who just saved your life?" Spike snapped. Behind him Gunn cleared his throat, Spike ignored him. "Believe me kid, if I had wanted to kill you, you would already be dead. And in case you're wondering, HE's a human."


He jerked his thumb back at Gunn, who gave a small wave. The girl's eyes filled with tears. Dammit, why did they always do this?

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to, I don't know, offend you. Thank you. Thank you.." She sniffled and gazed at him with a face that was still tear-stained, but unmistakeably grateful.

Spike stared at her. He didn't know if it was the hair or something about her eyes, maybe it was nothing more than the puppy dog look from a teenage girl, but she reminded him a bit of Dawn.


He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy. Although Buffy was the one who was on his mind almost constantly, he did occasionally miss the younger Summers girl. She had been near adoring of him even when the rest of Buffy's gang couldn't stand the sight of him. Although it had been a very long time since her affection of him had evaporated. He understood the reason for it well, trying to rape someones sister does wonders in removing the misunderstood hero light they had previously seen you in.

But still this girl called her to mind with a resonance that it was almost eerie. He wondered how Dawn was doing these days, and then realized with a jump that while this girl must be around fifteen, Dawn would be nearing eighteen now.


The girl was still looking at him, Spike jerked himself back to the present. "Er, what's your name?" He asked. "Nancy" She said, her voice was getting steadier, evidently his assurance that he wasn't going to eat her had a great calming effect.

"Right, Nancy. Well you better get home now, I don't know what you were doing but it's not safe for you to be out alone at night."

"I wasn't alone, I was with my friends." She rushed to say "We had just gone out to see our favorite band play at the Zebra Lounge, I had to leave early because I didn't want my parents to wake up and notice I was gone." She broke off and looked at him guiltily as if she was expecting a reprimand.


"Listen," Spike said "I don't care why you were out, that's none of my business. I'm just saying you better get back now." He stood and turned to walk back up the ally. Gunn raised and eyebrow at him, he looked almost amused.

Spike heard Nancy yell "Wait!" He turned again to look at her. She clambered to her feet and took a hesitant step toward him. "Can you walk me home? Please? It's only a couple of blocks away, I just don't want to be alone out here."

Spike opened his mouth to say no, he didn't have time for this. "Yes." Gunn looked almost as surprised at these words as Spike was. He didn't know what had made him say that, he never took steps like this for the dozens of women he had rescued from their demon dinner date before. He just couldn't say no to someone who reminded him so much of Dawn.


Nancy smiled, a great grin despite the smeared makeup and tear tracks that was still on her face. They walked in silence, until finally after what seemed like an eternity but in reality couldn't have been more than ten minutes, they came to an apartment building and Nancy stopped.

"Thank you." She said looking at Spike. She turned to Gunn "Thank you both." Spike gave a curt nod. Nancy walked up the steps to the building and then stopped, looking back over her shoulder.

"What's your name?" She asked looking at him.

"Spike." he answered.


"Spike" She repeated "That's a funny name." She gave a small smile and said "Goodnight." Then walked into the building and was gone.

They stood there not saying a word as the door swung shut behind her. Then Gunn coughed and said "That was beautiful." Spike shot a dirty look at Gunn and saw that he was laughing. "Shut up." he snarled, striding back down the road the way they'd come.


"No really!" Gunn insisted, following behind him. "I mean when you agreed to walk that little girl home it was like the moment when the Grinch's heart grew three times its size!"

Spike didn't answer, he knew Gunn would just keep at it if Spike gave him the satisfaction of responding. Gunn caught up with Spike and fell into step beside him, occasionally shooting him another amused look. The quiet was broken when a shrill ring came from Gunn's pocket. Gunn pulled out his phone and flipped it open with one hand, holding it up to his ear. "What's up?"

Spike assumed it was Angel. None of them had many people to talk to these days, but Gunn had insisted that cell phones were a necessary part of Angel Investigations and that they shouldn't stop their use just because they were no longer with Wolfram and Hart. Spike wasn't a large fan of them, it annoyed him the way it made him feel that he was at Angel's beck and call, but they did come in handy sometimes. Gunn had been laughing still when he answered the phone but the humor quickly drained from his face as he listened to whatever Angel was saying. "What? Why?"

Spike shot Gunn a questioning look, one that he ignored with an impatient wave of his hand. "She wants help? You're kidding me right? Oh of course we'll help her, after all look what she did for us." Spike was staring at Gunn very hard. She? What she could they be talking about? And what she could be making Gunn look so angry? Gunn was silent for a moment and then said in a clipped tone "Fine, we're on our way." He hung up the phone and stuffed it in his pocket. "Well?" Spike asked after a beat. "What was that about?" "We need to get over there now." Gunn replied, "Apparently Harmony decided to pay a little visit, needs help with something. And for some reason Angel is deciding that the proper way to react to that is to agree rather than to put a stake through her chest."

Spike stared. "Harmony? What help could she possibly want from us?"

Gunn replied gruffly "That's not the question I'm worried about. The one I'm worried about is why we're even considering giving it to her." Spike didn't answer. It didn't matter, Gunn didn't seem to be expecting a response. After just a few moments of walking, the Hotel Hyperion loomed into view. It was one of the few material things Angel had been able to hold on to throughout the entire ordeal with Wolfram and Hart, the deed to the property. They had re-set up headquarters and although a bit musty after the long stretch away, it was still in relatively good shape.

Angel and Gunn had both moved into rooms, the cushy penthouse apartments disappeared the same time as the law firm. Spike however, refused on principal to stay there. He would take his paycheck from Angel, but he certainly wasn't going to live under his roof. He still had enough pride left to make that idea unbearable.

When they got to the hotel and let themselves in, the first thing they could hear was gasping little sobs coming from Angel's office. Spike recognized the sounds to be female, and was perplexed. What in hell would cause Harmony to be coming to Angel for help, and crying? She always thought of herself as being a "strong independent woman" who didn't need help from anybody. That's not saying Spike believed it, but he did figure Harmony had too much pride to admit how ridiculous an idea that was. Also while she definitely wasn't the brightest vampire in the crypt, he thought surely she would be smart enough not to show her face around them now. Seeking refuge with people she once tried to kill was an easy way to find yourself at the wrong end of a stake.

Although, Spike remembered, there had been a time or two when he had to do the same thing himself.

They walked towards the office door, Gunn sped up past Spike and wrenched open the door. He stood in the doorway. "You've got a lot of nerve-" he started. "Gunn." Angel's voice was sharp. Spike looked over Gunn's shoulder and was surprised by what he saw. Harmony was sitting hunched over in the chair in front of Angel's desk. Her face was dirty and covered with tears, her hair disheveled. Her clothes were torn and she smelled as if she hadn't showered in at least a week.

It wasn't this that shocked Spike though, it was the look on her face. Spike had seen her throw many a hissy fit before, endured many melodramatic crying jags, but this was different. Her expression was deadened, her cheeks hollow, and her eyes kept darting around the room as if she expected something to rise out of the shadows at any moment. This wasn't a common look to see from a vampire.

Gunn seemed to be startled by her appearance as well, he had stopped talking anyway. He stepped further into the room and Spike followed, shutting the door behind him. "What in hell happened to you Harm?" Spike asked, staring at her. She smiled at him, or at least it seemed to be an attempt at a smile, her lips twitched at the corners and it came off as more of an insane grimace. "Well." she said, looking at Angel, her voice shaking. "Are you going to tell him, maybe he'll do it if you won't. I thought you of all people would understand, would be willing to help me." Angel looked at her for a moment and then said slowly, "If you're telling me the truth, then what you're asking me to do isn't the answer."

Spike raised an eyebrow at Angel, he was definitely missing something. Angel sighed "Harmony-" he started and broke off, rubbing his eyes and looking much older than the twenty-six he had been stuck at for the past two-hundred years. "She has her soul." Spike's mouth hung open, he looked back and forth from Angel to Harmony, who was hanging her head and staring at the floor. "You're kidding right?"

Harmony laughed. Not her normal annoying laugh, but a hysterical one that Spike had never heard out of her before. "Do you think if I was joking I would be here?" she asked, rising out of her chair and taking a step towards Spike. "Do you think I don't know that the three of you would just love to shove a stake through my heart? That's why I'm here!" She stopped, her chest heaving. Harmony always forgot that she didn't need to breathe. Or maybe she, like Spike, just used it as a calming mechanism. A reminder that she was still alive, or as alive as either of them could be.

Angel stood up as well, his jaw was set as he said "Nobody is staking you here." Harmony clenched her right hand at these words, the other one grabbed the necklace around her throat and tugged at it, seemingly unaware. "I don't understand." she hissed out "I'm evil, you kill things that are evil, please. I have all these thoughts, all these memories in my head. Oh God, so many people." As she spoke she wrapped her fingers through her matted hair and pulled, looking quite mad.

"I don't want this soul in me, to feel like this. I don't want anything. Please, please kill me. I can't do it myself." Spike stared at her and remembered quite well what that had been like, suddenly remembering all the horriffic things you had done, and caring. He was wondering to himself what the issue was here, why wasn't Angel agreeing?

"Look Harmony" Angel started in what he clearly thought was a reaasuring voice. "If the Powers gave you a soul, I'm sure it was for a reason."

"The Powers?" Harmony shrieked "A reason? I don't care! I don't want a reason! I'm not like you two, all noble and wanting to redeem yourselves and save the world. I just want it all to stop!" She lunged at Spike suddenly, catching him by surprise and grabbing on to his wrists and staring into his eyes pleadingly. "Spike please, kill me. I know you never loved me, not even for a second, I know I was just a big joke to you. But please, you owe me." Spike couldn't break her gaze, she stared intently at him, waiting for an answer.

Spike opened his mouth to reply, Angel beat him to it. "No." he said firmly "Nobody is killing you today so sit down so we can try and make sense of this." Spike looked at her again and silently wrenched himself out of her grasping fingers. She stared at him another moment and then turned, throwing herself back down in the chair.

Spike turned his head to look away from her and caught Gunn's gaze. He hadn't said another word since they had entered the room, had just stood back and watched the exchange. Gunn cleared his throat uncomfortably and said "So- you've got a soul? How?"

At first Spike thought Harmony wasn't going to answer, but then she said lowly "I don't know. Two weeks ago I was at home in my apartment, sleeping and I had this dream. There was this man- well, he wasn't really a man, but he told me that I had a job to do. He said that I had a purpose to fulfill, and it was my time to join the side where I could play my part. I laughed and told him he was crazy, but then he put his hand on my chest, and there was this light.

It burned, it hurt so bad I woke up and it was still burning. Then when the burning stopped suddenly everything just seemed to flood into my mind, everything I've done in the past five years, all the horrible things. And that's when I realized what he must have done to me."

Everybody was silent, taking in these words. It was finally Spike who spoke. "Did he say why? I mean, did he say what exactly this purpose is that you're supposed to be fulfilling?"

Harmony shook her head hard. "No, he only said one more thing, that there was something very bad coming."

Gunn met these ominous words with a weary sigh, "There's ALWAYS something bad coming."