"Hello?"

"Um, yes, is Rupert Giles available?" God, you sound like such a ponce! Keep it together; he'll know what to do.

"Well, yes, I will fetch him for you"

It was so odd to hear another familiar homespun accent. Giles and Dru had been the only connection to that familiar phrasing Spike had heard in years. Well, that was until it happened, now he heard lots of different accents, but none of them so real as this voice on the end of the line.

"This is Rupert Giles"

"Giles, mate, I need your help."

"Mate? Who is this? Spike? Spike is that you?"

"Um, yeah its me, sorry being all proper and the like. Right then. Some things happened, I need your help."

"Is Buffy, are things okay? What's going on in Sunnydale, Dawn didn't mention anything to Willow yesterday."

"Sunnydale? Oh, God I'm not in Sunnydale, so if there's trouble, this is one big bad you can count out"

"Well then, where are you?"

"Nairobi, Kenya I think it is, well it's in Africa anyways, you know, heart of darkness and all that bollocks. I need to get out of here."

"You called me for train fare?"

"There's more, lots more, not just 'Oh Giles gimme train fare'"

Giles could sense something change in his voice. Spike was serious, even afraid maybe, not like him at all.

"As I was saying, something's happened to me and I think you, the Council and the Scoobies will need to hear about it, in that order, as soon as possible. So can you get me to where you are or not? I don't have a lot of cash right now, if I did I'd be halfway there by now, or at least calling you from Cairo, Christ Giles I'm rambling."

Giles heard it again, fear, or maybe embarrassment, but something was different.

"Hold on Spike, let me see what I can do."

How long can I pull this off? My head is going to combust. Who's he talking to? Is that the witch? I think she tried to end the world, the whole sodding mess. Damn her, why can't she go through with even the simplest apocalypse? Damn, Giles might tell her its him, and she might tell Goldilocks, and now the whole thing will become a mess. A bloody stupid mess just like me. Why'd I think I could do this without her finding out? I mean word travels fast among the undead, but it travels faster in her circle than hell fire in a forest.

"Um, Spi..William. Sorry, Willow thinks I am talking to my brother, William. Right now. I have you on a train from Nairobi to Cairo leaving tonight, right after sun down. You will have a personal single room traveling coach in a car. You should be able to block out the African sun. Of all places for a vampire to go, I mean Africa's got the brightest, hottest sun on earth, it’s a wonder you aren't..."

"A large pile of dust? Giles..."

"Yes, right, you will arrive in Cairo at sundown the following day. Be prepared though, nothing is guaranteed on time in Egypt, they’re worse than just about anyone on earth with time. Yes you will need to take a cab to the Airport. Now I know you are broke, so when you get to the train station there will be a man waiting for you. He's a watcher like myself, and has been notified of your presence. He will have a passport and some cash for you. Don't spend it all on cigarettes and duty free whiskey."

"You watchers are better than the CIA, can you make me a birth certificate and fake baby foot prints too?"

"Shut up Spi..William. You will get on Egypt Air flight 317 to London Heathrow. It is a night flight; you will arrive in the middle of the night. Your ticket will be at the counter for you, under the name William Giles."

"Bloody hell, you really are taking this brother bit a bit too far mate. Do you even have a brother?"

"Well, No I don’t but, pay attention. When your train arrives a woman will be there to pick you up. She will know who you are, don't worry. She's a witch, and she was headed here from London anyways to help the coven with Willow. She's been instructed to take vehicle precautions. It won't be luxurious but it will do."

"Giles, how does she know? I mean you were gone about 5 minutes and all of this is 'set up'. I mean your freaking me out a bit"

"Some of it is residual from when the coven tried to channel me to help Willow not destroy the world, there are certain skills I retained. Otherwise that Expedia dot com is bloody remarkable. Seems the internet is good for something. Just trust me it will all be fine"

"Giles, I need something else from you, this is important so listen up"

"Well yes, go ahead"

"You can't tell Buffy I am coming to see you, you can't tell any of her little chums, no one can know. When I come to see you Willow can't be there to see me, send her off with her cauldron sisters or something, but she can't know I am around, not at first anyways. Do you understand? This is a strictly you, me and all the people you have assisting me in my transportation to England. No one else can know."

"William, I mean, that’s kind of brash, conspiracy theory and the like. What's wrong, maybe I can start working on it until you get here?

"Nothings wrong, its what’s right that you need to know about. I have to go now. I will see you in a few days. I am going to head to the train station now, it'll be getting dark soon. Thank you Giles, I owe you."

"Right? Well fine I will see you in a few."

Nairobi stank. Not like garbage stinks, like fetid unwashed 19th century London's whore district stink. It smells of death and decay and excrement. It would have been refreshing in the past, but now it was only haunting him. It made all of this worse. The pain, and not the 'Ooo it hurts so good pain' more like the 'kill me quickly so it all ends in a single flash' pain was intense and difficult ot deal with. Even loving her hadn't hurt him this badly. He thought this might be the punishment for getting back his soul. He always thought the Poof looked a little worse for wear after he got his. At least Spike's didn't come with that whole 'one moment of true happiness' invalidity clause. It was the headaches that were the worst. They were full of screaming voices begging and pleading for him to stop, for his former self to stop, Spike wished he had.

Traveling through Nairobi by day wasn't nearly as difficult as it should have been. The markets, in alleys, were always dark, day or night. They were crawling with rats, and cats smaller than the rats, and the occasional skinny dog whelping. It was sickening. Not to mention it was not exactly a party to be a glow in the dark, paler than pale, white man here. The Shamans and Witch Doctors knew what he was, but they also knew what he has come to be: another vampire with a soul.

The Master would have been so disappointed if he knew what had become of the Order of Aurelius. Darla was dead, again. Drusilla, well god only knew where she was; she was probably sucking the life out of some poor chaos demon with tea parties and dollies right now. Angel the soul restored protector of the pathetic. And now Spike, William the fucking bloody, soul returned so he could go and pine after the slayer. How likely was it that not one but two of the Master's most vicious would turn all jelly legged and googly eyed for a silly girl with a bag of stakes and a birthright? Dru had known it. Dru could see it in him; she had never seen it in Angelus even when he wasn't evil. Angel's love wasn't as deep as this, as ancient, as set in his bones as it was for Spike. It was almost as if this were his fate, his destiny from the moment he was turned, to someday love the slayer. Not just any slayer though. He has offed two in his unlifetime, which was damn impressive! The first time he had seen Buffy she stirred something in him that hadn't been there for years. A lust for something more, sure blood, carnage, death and destruction were fun for the first 100 years, but after a while it all became so unsatisfying. Well, that and the damn chip. Not like he needed that anymore. He was too scared to kill a rat for a meal. Then again the rats here are of unusual size.

"You must be William the Bloody, also known as Spike?"

"What?" Spike was startled. He turned around to see where this booming voice had come from, and saw who could only be described as the African version of Giles. He wondered if the damn council gave them a dress code. Only this one was black, black as the night, but still stodgy and uptight.

"Oh, yeah, that's me. The terror of Europe, the big bad, grr arrg, be scared." Spike said unenthusiastically.

"I received Rupert’s message. I am Samuel. Here are the items he requested I give to you. Sorry about the photo in the passport, it was the only one the Council had on file."

The photo was horrendous. It looked as though he was pissed out of his mind. The background was familiar, it looked like the cells in the Initiative's demon control center. This must have been the photo they took of him when he was captured. How in the hell did Giles get a hold of it?

"Actually Giles had a fellow email it to me, so I could put this together. Truly though, I have seen far worse by means of passport photos so you should be jolly well with this one."

"Well I don't know that I'll ever be 'jolly well' but it'll do."

In the back of the passport was approximately 100 pound Sterling. Enough to let him live like a king in damn Nairobi. He though that he should have called Giles sooner.

"Your train leaves in a half hour. Your ticket is at the counter up there. I also brought you this bag so you wouldn't look suspicious as a luggage-less passenger. There are some clothes and toiletries and a thick wool blanket for the window in here. Giles doesn't know how shoddy the damn blankets are on the trains here. You'd be dust in a few minutes if you relied on them. Now, I know you can't see yourself in a mirror, but you look quite awful. Your room on board has a washroom and loo attached. I made sure of it, I figured if you were desperate enough to contact Rupert, you must be in an awful state I wasn't wrong."

No wonder this guy was a watcher Spike thought. He was straight forward, no holds barred, and he had thought of everything! Maybe they should send him to Sunnydale, Buffy could use someone with this much forethought and planning.

"Right then. I should probably be going."

"Wait, Giles figured you hadn't eaten in a while either. He said you didn't sound right on the phone. There are two bags of pig blood in there as well. I know how hard a butcher shop is to come by here, well one which keeps the blood instead of letting it run into the street at least, so I hope this helps."

Now he really had thought of everything. Clothes, money, object to block murderous African sun, and now a meal! For a change Spike actually felt sort of happy. This was an odd, unfamiliar sensation.

"Wow, well I must say thanks, you've really taken care of everything. You wouldn't happen to have a pack of fags on you? That would certainly make you quite possibly the most remarkable human I have ever met."

"Sorry, I don't smoke, but there will be a dealer in the station that can probably assist you in that. How odd, a vampire that smokes objects, which could light him on fire and send him to an early dusting. Hmm, I'll have to make a note of that."

There's the watcher sense he had been looking for. Business was still first, all else was second.

"I take it you haven't met a lot of us. We do all sorts of destructive things to ourselves. Someone might think we had a death wish. We are dead, so that whole death wish thing takes on a whole new meaning."

There was the uncomfortable vampire-watcher silence he was looking for.

"I guess I should be going. I will tell Giles that you were very helpful and that he should..." God I suck at this "be very happy you are a watcher too. Um Good Bye"

When he turned around Samuel was already gone. Disappeared. Like me.

Cleopatras are the fungus demons of the cigarette world. They are about 4 steps past horrible and closer to 'did someone kill the guy who came up with these, or should I kill him?' bad. They tasted like dust. They were stale and sickening. There were shrubberies, which tasted better when smoked. These were disgusting, but it fulfilled that nagging 'addiction' to nicotine Spike thought he had. He did look awful; even the white folks were looking at him with glares and stares.

He hadn't slept in weeks. The sleeper/loo/bath room was nice. Too nice, he thought he didn't deserve something like this. Hopefully Giles didn't expect to be paid back. Maybe he could turn in the receipts to the Council for reimbursement. Why did he care? Damnit I am tough, I am scary, I am evil, and I am a complete ponce. I am pathetic. I am beyond pathetic. Spike handed the porter his ticket, locked the door and hid inside the confines of his room.

It had been weeks since he has been this confined in a space. For the first month he ran ragged through the caves by the sea where this all began. The locals had thrown carcasses into the caves. They thought they knew what he was. It was no matter. He ate nothing of it, and finally slunk off in the quiet of night with a group of tourist fisherpersons. Stupid tourists.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. The soul was supposed to come back, he was supposed to feel remorse for like a week, some pain some anguish, and then he was supposed to go on his merry way. Back to Sunnydale, back to her, rub her nose in what she done. Instead he could barely make it through a day or night without wanting his own death. Spike thought he knew pain when she was dealing it out, no, that was kittens compared to this.

Like many things in Nairobi the train looked nice, but underneath, it was really only swill. Yes there was a bath, yes there was water, but this bathwater was cold and brown. It would do, but it would only satisfy on the basest level of necessity. In the bag from the watcher was a small bottle of hotel shampoo and soap. Also in there was a clean black tee shirt and black pants. A bath was in order.

The watcher wasn't wrong. Based on the color of the water after his wash, with it being even dirtier than when he got in, that being a feat in itself, he must have been filthy. His hair had grown out significantly. It was almost down to his ears, much the length it was when Spike was originally turned. He so wished he could see it; it must have looked very reverse skunk. He was too afraid to see a barber in Kenya. It was too risky. Plus Spike couldn't just kill him afterwords like he would have been able to do in the past, so word surely would have gotten out about the man who cast no refleciton. In Europe and even Sunnydale there were places a demon or vampire could go in for a nice trim and a bit of conversation. Some demons were even unusually skilled at the barber trade and could completely change a look to put you in hiding. Some even were kind enough to keep around Polaroid cameras to take photos of the work they did, so vamps could check it out. But not in Kenya, not in Africa, you couldn't even get simple hair bleach.

Spike considered burning his clothes. They were a mess. The smell alone was enough to frighten off evil. He thought it was funny that when all of you reeks you did't seem to notice it. Throwing them out the window was the only solution. Good Riddance. The belt had to stay though, as it didn't smell. The pants were quite nice actually, snappy even.

He finally decided to confront the dark mistress who taunted him so. The little bitch chided him constantly. If Spike didn’t sleep he would only get worse, and he knew he really didn’t need to scare the living daylights out of Giles. The last time he slept was at least 2 weeks ago, and even then it wasn't really sleep. Undressed and freshly clean he put the blanket over the cheap tatters of curtain. The watcher even packed some tape to secure the blanket so it wouldn't shift and dust him. Genius.

In the folds of the blanket it was there. He could smell it: sweet, tempting blood. Swine tasted remarkably like human. It was so close that it wasn't a shame to survive off of pig’s blood if you had to. It was almost warm from the protection of the blanket. The first bag he gingerly sucked back. He was anticipating the overwhelming feeling of the suffering of this victim. Humans were animals, they suffered, they haunted, so why not a stupid pig? Most pigs were smarter then a good lot of humans anyways. The haunting had not come and the second bag beckoned. Shooting back the second bag he felt satisfied for once. The strength pored into him and reminded him how badly he needed the rest. It was easier to walk around half starved, a zombie like existence kicked in after a week. But now Spike needed sleep.

"Ha Ha! William the bloody awful poet!"

"Wait Charles, Wait, What rhymes with ephemeral? Ha ha ha!"

"Oooo Cecily your poet awaits!"

"If you are lucky dear he will just drive a railroad spike through your head rather than make you suffer his words!"

They roared with laughter. They were my friends. Maybe they were my friends, it has been so long that I can't really remember. But if it hadn't been for her none of this would have happened. It rang through my ears "you are beneath me" it haunted me, chased me, controlled me. Damn Cecily, she had it coming. She drove me to that stable; she drove me to darkness, to the darkness, which would eventually consume her.

I had just been turned. Angelus, Darla and Drusilla were all there. Dru claimed to be my sire, but I knew differently it was Angelus. He turned me to get her off his back. Dru needed a plaything that would be easy to control. Was he wrong. They let me go and kill my first out of vengeance. That only made me hungrier.

"William, William is that you..? By heavens, however did you get… Oh lord, Oh dear Lord! We shall all burn!"

The kitchen maid had let me in. By the time Cecily found me, I was vamped out, for the first time in my new existence.

"What Cecily? Can't stand to look what you drove me to? This is your fault! Am I still beneath you now? Tell me, for I am immortal now. You will die, your corpse will fade, but I will be forever! You are beneath me now!"

"William, I never meant what I said, please just go, and no one will ever have to know."

"You are right my dear Cecily. No one will ever know who or what did this to you, but they may have a clue. I am William the Bloody, and will be my first. You could have been my first in other more human ways, but I was too beneath you for that now wasn't I?"

"Please no! Don't I am sorry! Please forgive me I am repentant!"

"Keep begging Cecily, beg until your last breath escapes you, and then beg all the heavens for forgiveness. They know it’s your fault, GOd knows what you did, and he can't save you now. You made this demon my sweet!"

"No, please God will forgive me, and you! Just please don't!"

She had by now seen the corpse on the floor. Her kitchen maid was there. Sucked dry, neck ripped open, but not by me. Dru and Darla had a taste for servants and they fulfilled their hunger happily. Angelus and them were throughout the house eating the residents, and looting whatever they could find.

"Cecily, if you scream I will leave, just keep screaming." A wicked smile passed crossed my lips. I could see the vein just below the skin, pushing all those little cells throughout her body. I felt a hunger deep within me that I knew only she could satisfy.

"Please, Ahhhhhhhh"

The screaming stopped when she died. It was then that I learned how much more fulfilling it would be when they fought back, but that wasn't enough for me this time. I wanted them to know who did this. The railroad spike was the finishing touch, straight through her temples. This would show them. She was the first of many, of my 'friends.'

She was back now. I never turned her, but clear as day she stood there. Thought eternity was too good a gift to the little cunt. It was all her fault, but now I plead with her; I am the one begging forgiveness. Her screams rage through my mind. Her screams, not of fear now, but of anger and hate radiated through my dreams. I can do nothing about it.

"DAMNIT CECILY! I am sorry. How many times do I have to tell you? I am so sorry please forgive me. I need redemption! I only wanted you to know how it felt to be nothing. I didn't do this to you, the monster did, but he's gone now so please forgive me..."

Sir! Sir! Are you all right? Wake up! My God, I think he is dead!"

The porters were in his room now. Shaking him. I am dead but you wouldn't know it from the way I walk and talk!

"What? Get out of here! Can't you read the bloody door? Do Not Disturb! That means don't come into the room! Stupid gits."

"But sir, you were screaming, t-t-he other passengers were concerned that something was wrong."

"Everything is wrong, but that’s not their issue. Get out. I don't care if it sounds like the goddamn inquisition is going on in here you leave me be!"

They left. This was why Spike hadn't gotten any sleep. The nightmares, the screams, their screaming, the pain of knowing what you were. He was terrified they would see him vamp out. He didn’t get bumpy so often now. It took a lot of rage to trigger it. And the only person Spike could get that kind of anger about was himself.

He could feel by the heat radiating off the blanket that it was day. He couldn't wander the coaches. Too risky. After his little performance he didn’t think the man who's flesh smokes in sunlight would be such a hit. Spike couldn't go back to sleep. This soul bullshit was getting old fast.

Spike rifled through the bag the watcher had packed. If he was such a genius to pack the tape and shampoo maybe he stuck a book in there, a newspaper, anything to pass the time. Ha! Toothbrush and toothpaste! That’s a kick! Apparently it’s not in any of the vampire information libraries that vamps don't need to brush their pearly whites. Bacteria can't live in them, viruses can't live in them, and neither should their souls.

In the bottom of the bag were a few more things. A pair of boxers, apparently Slayer hadn't told ol' Giles everything about their little affair. No need for those, don't wear 'em. A wife beater tank and black button down shirt were two things Spike would wear so they could stay. He chucked the tooth accessories into the trash with the boxers. Under the shirt there was a note, 2 pills and a book.

Spike:
If you can't sleep here are 2 sleeping pills, one for the train, and one for the plane. I don't know if they work on vampires, not a lot of information available on personal hygiene and toxicology of vamps. Buffy mentioned you were some sort of poet, and that she always caught you reading so here is a generic anthology of verse. It might help pass the time. You sounded distressed on the phone, please relax we are preparing for your arrival. Be well, and please don't kill any flight attendants.
-Giles

That man was everywhere. Any rate, the pills would work and the book was perfect. Of course they were horse pills, and even with his antibacterial status he couldn't bring himself to drink the swill water. Breaking one into pieces Spike swallowed it back. The pills were temporary salvation; they would stop the nightmares, and put him into a black, dreamless sleep.

Cairo, Egypt

The train pulled in just after sunset. The window was black, but still warm with daylight. Spike had woken up when the train jerked to a stop. Sleep had come and gone and he was no worse for wear, it was a relief.

Spike gathered the contents of the bag he would continue to travel with. He then dressed himself in the tank, shirt and posh pants. He rinsed the blood out of the bags, what remained of it anyways. The porters already thought he was some sort of freak; he didn't need to prove it. In the past he wouldn't have cared, but now he did. Leaving the room felt wonderful, but terrifying, just when he got comfortable he always had to move on. Too quickly.

Cairo. Spike has never been here. Over a hundred years old, and world traveled, and yet never seen the pyramids. Cairo has a certain something. You could feel it the minute you set foot there. It was this bizarre mix of ancient and modern. It was the feel of a people older than America, older than Europe, older than civilization itself. You could also feel the magic that coursed through the earth here. Cairo was confused, much like vampires. Thrown into the future with nothing but the past to hold onto to. It was comfortable. Apparently though you couldn't be in Africa without the major city you landed in stinking like a pit.

The goddamn Cleopatra cigarettes, they would probably be the death of him. Spike could hear it run through the underground "Spike killed by Cleopatra cigarettes, taste alone ended him!"

"William? Are you William?" A man with caramel skin and violet, wait those were violet eyes, poked him on the shoulder.

" 'pends on who's asking."

Spike turned to him. He looked fierce, as Abdullah stepped back. It must not have been normal to see an incandescently pale man in all black smoking cigarettes fresh off a train. Spike definitely didn't look like a tourist. Thank god, all the American ones were fat anyways.

"I am Abdullah, the watcher of Egypt. I keep my ear to the ground looking for future Slayers. I am now also vampire transport it seems."

"Well Abdullah, you can call me Spike. William's my proper name, but it really hasn't fit me in decades. Outgrew that suit when the taking happened."

"Spike!?! The Spike? I have read so much about your conquests with the Order of Aurelius. You killed 2 of our Slayers. You are much feared by watchers and demons alike. Well, not Rupert, but he's also unconventional in his ways."

"Well, I was chipped by a secret US Government Agency called the Initiative. I couldn't hurt a damn fly if I wanted to. If I do try its like my heads 'bout to explode. Behavior modification they call it, I call it neutering."

"Well then I guess you are more than safe. Come now, we must go it is time."

"I thought you were meeting me at the airport."

"I was, but I had nothing to do, no new Slayer being called for a while. We've already got 2 out there, so us Watchers only watch large amounts of television. Also I though you would prefer to have your blood in the car instead of in the water closets at the airport."

“Right then, let’s go. Mind if I smoke?”

“No, no one else here will care either.”

As they ewre walking out of the train station Spike saw ‘No Smoking’ signs written in both Arabic and English. Underneath them were ashtrays and Egyptian men smoking like chimneys. A man could get used to a place like this.

“Abdullah, is there anywhere around here I could get a packet of real fags? These Cleopatra’s are real crap you know?”

“Oh yes, they are terrible, no one smokes them! Here there is a cigarette stand just at the exit you can get Marlboros or Camels there. This is better?”

“Perfect.”

Every 5 steps Abdullah had to greet another person. It was completely bizarre, as if he knew everyone in Cairo. Or maybe it was just that he was real friendly in a very creepy sort of manner. The cigarette man was Spike's salvation. Three Pounds for a pack, he gets 2. This was three pounds after Abdullah bartered with the merchant down from ten Pound a pack. Crazy Egyptians couldn’t just list the price like normal people. Spike bet tourists fell for this sort of thing all the time. Silly fucks.

Abdullah’s car was one of the most unnerving sights Spike had seen in a good long while. He figured it was held together with rope and chewing gum. There apparently was no 3rd gear so Abdullah jumped from 2nd to 4th. Headlights were optional at night. Seat belts were optional features in cars as well. The horn was not, every few miles everyone stopped, honked their horns and then kept going. Spike had never been so terrified. There were also apparently no lanes on Egyptian roads. There were those familiar yellow and white lines, but two lane roads here were made into 3 or 4 lane roads by the travelers. He hadn't seen this much chaos and confusion on a highway since, well, never. There were donkey pulled carts, semi-trucks, buses with people hanging out of doors and windows and brand new Mercedes all sharing this strip of road. This was unreal. A bloke could start to like this.

As they left central Cairo Abdullah started to point out attractions. He worked part time as an Egyptologist giving tours and stuff to tourists, so he had plenty to tell. It was all sort of mottling up inside Spike's head. He couldn’t pay attention to him right now. Cairo was talking to Spike, and he couldn’t to listen to them both at once.

“Spike, if you turn around in the back seat there is a quart of blood. It’s cow, we don’t eat a lot of pork here, so it will have to do.”

“Thanks” Spike replied as he turned around. The blood was directly behind Spike's seat. It was cold, it was from a cow, and it was just not very good.

“How is it? Drink it up. I had to buy it from a Jew. They keep the blood you know. Strange people they are.”

“It’s yummy good.” Gag. “So mate, what’s the deal with all the lonely vehicles? People just dump ‘em?” Spike had seen many abandonded cars on the side of the road, many of them so rusty it seemed as if they had been there for some time.

“Well when things stop working here most people just abandon it. In’sha’llah, they say. If God wills! Most of the time God wills them to leave things where they are, let buildings fall down, show up late, not show up at all. The only thing here that is cared for is the past. The temples and statues, the museums, the tombs, it is all more important than our current times. We respect the past, without it we would not be here. Spike, we have a few hours would you like to get some tea and a water pipe? Its very relaxing before a flight.”

“I really can’t be late for my flight.”

“You won’t be, there is a place in Garden City, near the airport. We will go there. It will be nice, you can buy something for your girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“What about that Drusilla girl you were always found with? She’s always mentioned side by side with you in the journals.”

“Dru’s gone in more ways than one. I’d rather not talk about it. You Watcher’s really ought to stop relying on those books for all your info about us famous Vamps. We generally will surprise you.”

“Well it has certainly been a surprise to meet you and your chip. Does Angelus still have his soul? That was always a fun one to tell the new girls. Imagine that a vampire with a soul! You were friends with him weren’t you?”

“Yeah, the poof still has his soul, lost it for a bit but its been back helping him help the helpless blah blah, Gandhi shit. We were never really friends. More like two men who had to tolerate each other for far too long. He’s back in Los Angeles. Ha! Funny isn’t that. City of Angels, and Angelus lives there! He goes by Angel. Found him in love with one of your Slayers he did. Imagine that, vampire and slayer in love! Crazy right? She got him back to evil scourge of Europe Angelus the terrible after a good shag. Then she killed him, but her friend who’s a witch had restored his soul again right before. I guess it was real tragic, I left before that started. Then the First Evil brought Angel back out of the hell dimension to kill the Slayer, you know Buffy. Well that didn’t work and he helped fight off the Ascension, which ended in the high school being blown up and the hell mouth being closed back up. Me n' Dru were in South America at the time, but from what I heard it was one hell of a day. Then he left to go start some sort of agency in LA with a real fox named Cordelia. A little up tight and prissy that one was, but she had legs up to…” Spike could feel him staring at him. Abdullah couldn’t believe what he was saying. “And well that’s sort of Angel’s story. We’re really not friends, but if you hang around the Slayer’s crew long enough you get to hear the story over and over and it sort of becomes second nature.”

“You are friends with Buffy? She has a crew? I am not understanding, but I am starting to see why Rupert was fired from the Council.”

“I’ll go into detail once we have a cuppa tea and a pipe. Fancy that, never smoked a water pipe without a bit of the old illegals in it.”

Westbury, England

To Willow it felt like Giles was trying to cut her off, shut her down, like she was the damn Buffy-bot, constantly returning to him for repair. Giles was so aggravating. The British in general were less Giles-ish than she figured but still! Half the time she had no idea what they were talking about. Willow had thought Spike spoke a foreign language; that was nothing compared to the pissed snogging shagging bints and poofs who just want a pint and a fag she had encountered. She just wanted to go home. She hadn't heard from anyone. She was not allowed to call Buffy or Xander. The only one she could talk to was Dawn, and that just wasn't enough.

The coven was helping. But she couldn't help feeling like they didn't realize all that was going on inside of her. Sure, she could learn that it was all connected, that nature governed all, that powers, which existed before there were words, run the show, but still, she felt so dangerous.

Willow felt things. Shifts in energies. Shifts in the powers of the universe. Shifts in the prices of mandrake root. This time the shift had occurred and it was moving towards her. Did Giles summon something? Something to help her understand what was going on with her. It wasn't every day that someone tried to destroy the world and then got to go on vacation half the world away, she got that. She could feel that some cosmic balance was off, it had shifted. She felt the darkness in her tug a little harder at her sensibilities. Most of all though, she felt alone.

Willow wondered if she could communicate with the thing that was coming before it got there. Since the 'incident' she had the uncanny ability to get inside peoples heads, telepathically speaking, not actually get inside of their heads. Some times she couldn't get in. It was easier when they were in a state of change or when they were hurting. It couldn't hurt to try, right?

"Hello? Can you hear me?

Cairo, Egypt

They were in the middle of conversation when Red got in his head.

"Abdullah, this is a football country, tell me how are Manchester United doing this season? You must know."

Abdullah started talking football, but Spike's mind went blank. He then heard her.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

Spike was doing his best not to think of a response.

"I know you are coming here, please tell me who you are. I don't mean to intrude."

Apparently a summer in England really increased her polite quotient. Now not only were dead people in Spike's head but so's a witch!

"I heard that. You sound familiar."

Damnit Red, it’s me Spike. Leave me alone! I am not coming to visit you, you channeled in on the wrong bloke. Go find the wanker's frequency or something. Get out of my head!

"Spike? Is this really you? How'd I end up? I must have messed something up. I thought I had this down. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

He could feel her connection fade. Abdullah came back into earshot.

"Man U is really having an amazing season. I'm surprised you couldn't get the games in Kenya. We sit up half the night here watching football."

"Uh yeah right. Terrific, nice to hear Beckham's keeping it together."

The tea had gone cold, the tobacco had long since burned out. He thought he could get used to this kind of life: sitting about chatting, drinking, smoking, relaxing. Nothing but men were around there, apparently the women didn't frequent teahouses much. He did see them walking the streets with their sacks of groceries or bundled parcels. Some with scarves on their heads, others looking like they stepped out of a cab on 5th Avenue in New York. Cairo was a strange place indeed.

"Spike we should be going now. Your flight leaves in an hour. Well it may be an hour it may be 2 we never know here."

Abdullah took the teacups and pipe back to the counter. He hugged and kissed a few men on the way out. Cairo really was a city full of love. They loved their heritage, their country, their land, and each other. It’s quite beautiful in a completely non-fluffy bunnies sort of way.

The airport was barely a mile away. There were people everywhere, they were crowding the exit doors, cheering and grabbing friends and relatives.

"During the summer many families come back from America and Europe to bring gifts for their families and to go on holiday in the Delta or near the Red Sea."

It looked like some of them were carrying body bags. Body bags not full of people, but bags full of gifts. He clutched the pounds he had left in his pocket, and he decided to pick up some gifts while he was there.

"Here is your ticket You need to go through that gate. Hand them your passport. They will stamp it and let you go. Wait, I forgot, give me your passport."

"Here" He handed it to him.

Abdullah pulled some stamps from his pocket, licked them into the book.

"Awful photo. What are you intoxicated?"

"Its my capture photo from the Initiative. I was half drugged at the time."

"Well, it shows. Here is your book. I wish there could have been more time between us. It was so nice to hear about your life. I have never chatted with a vampire before, this was very interesting. Please have a safe trip. Give Giles my regards."

"Thanks Abdullah. It’s been a real pleasure. I wish I could have seen more. Maybe I'll return someday. I'll look you up."

"Here is my card, keep it with you. Let me know if I can be of any service to you."

"Thanks again mate. I should be going."

Spike left Abdullah where he stood. He stuck his passport into the tiny window and walked around to receive it again. Once through the gate doors, there was duty free heaven. He could pick some things up, gifts, like he thought before. Perfume wasn't right, he thought women shouldn't wear it anyways, they smelled good enough on their own. In front of the boarding gate it was: trinkets and knickknacks all with cheesy Egyptian crap on them, perfect.

Spike felt the need to pick up things for Giles, Red, maybe Anya, Niblet and Buffy. Xander the wanker deserved nothing. He wondered if he shouldn't bother, they all pretty much hated him upon his exit. He decided to buy anyways, people always liked a good gift, even if it came from someone they didn't like.

For Red he found a papyrus, of Isis, the goddess of magic who brought back to life Osiris. Spike figured Willow would get the symbolism she was well versed in wicca. For Anya he got small hieroglyph hair sticks. She was so vain, and always worried about her hair, that he knew she'd love them. For Niblet, his Dawn, golden earrings with the sun on them. He thought it was the Aten thingy, the sunrays, the energy, the Dawn. Giles was a bit more difficult to shop for. They didn't sell "My Vampire went to Egypt and all he brought me was this lousy tee-shirt" shirts. A nice set of tea glasses would do. The man did enjoy a good spot of tea. Buffy, she was near to impossible, as nothing here in this generic gift shop could ever be entirely worthy of her.

"Sir, which of these Gods and stuff was like a female warrior? And I don't want one that looks like a hippo or some other nasty."

"Try Sekhmet or Bastet, they are cats, not so ugly yes?"

There was a small generic list of what these gods represented.

Sekhmet: The Mighty One, represents the scorching, burning destructive powers of the sun. Defender and warrior of Ra and Osiris, Goddess of War.

Bastet: The Tearer, represents the life giving warmth of the sun. She was admired for her cat-like strength and agility. At times she was seen as the protector of Ra, in later times cults reassociated her with love.

Two opposite ends of the spectrum. The warrior, the lover, the reaper, the mother. Sounded like Buffy. Two small finely crafted statues and a delicately cut Ankh, symbol of life, of silver, this would do for her. He knew it would never be enough, but it was a start.

As usual people were smoking everywhere. Spike was surprised they weren't still smoking while they boarded. He'd never really been on a plane before. Generally too risky with the sun and windows and all, and pricey. Usually he preferred to travel in style and class, as a stowaway in the belly of a freightliner. Plane was nice enough; it lacked the chaos of the airport and of Cairo in general. He popped his last sleeping pill with a small cup of water in the waiting area prior to boarding, and he felt it kick in. Silent slumber awaited him, as London called.

Buffy's thoughts & dreams

His hands were all over me, the hunger inside of me never was filled like this before. It's like he knows where to touch me, like he knows my body inside and out. Like he was meant to do this, made to do this even. Oh God! Cold lipped kisses down my spine, fingers pushing me into ecstasy. Letting me ride until the explosive end and then coming back for more immediately. It was heaven, as close as I could come to it on earth. Safety, comfort, pleasure, all his gifts to me.
"Tell me you love me"
"I Love you, you know I do"
"Tell me you want me."
"I always want you. In point of fact-"
"Shut up"
The sincerity in his eyes made me want him more, and made me want to deny it more. I just wanted to be consumed. He was the best lover I have ever had, not Riley Finn, not Angel; none of them could even light a match compared to the inferno between us.

"Trust is for old marrieds Buffy. Great love is wild, and passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes."
"Until there's nothing left, love like that doesn't last."

But it does. I can't get it out of my system. Even after he attacked me I know I still care about him, for him. I need him, and I drove him away. I drive them all away. I know his attack wasn't so much about actually raping me, but trying to get validation from me. I just couldn't give it. I could never let him finish. I could admit I let him in, let him sit on the couch put up his feet and watch TV; then I bashed him over the head with the door, repeatedly. I just wanted to feel, and he was the only one who could make me feel like I really was alive. When I started to feel really alive, I had to push him away cos I knew he would be able to feel it, my love.

It's the worst at night. I lay in bed and I can almost feel him, cool flesh, spooning me from behind. Gentle arms with forceful intentions wrapped around me.
"It'll be alright love, just sleep I'll be here."
But he isn't. He isn't there, he lied, he said he would never leave me; he's gone now. But I can feel him; at least I can feel the memory of him.

Damnit Buffy! You are a moron. No wonder slayers were never meant to last past age 16. Maybe we are incapable of love. Incapable of really living. God knows even though I do have these feelings its rarely for the 'breath of life' type. Its not like I will ever see him again. I think he's really gone this time. Probably off gallivanting with Drusilla. Ick! Crazy weird Drusilla. Oh no! Did that mean I am crazy and weird too? Weird yes, crazy no. I just need to get this out of my head, out of my system. It'll go away as soon as the killing season comes back. That lust for vampire dust. Ha! That rhymed!

Westbury, England

She finally shut up. Stupid witch. Acting like she knew what was going on with him. She knew nothing. If she did, she would have shut up a long time ago. Spike knew he destroyed whatever chance he had with Buffy that night in the bathroom. It was over, all he could hope to do is redeem himself to her. There's that bloody word again! Redeem, redemption, why do I need to do this? Was it really for her? Or was this for him? Giving him what he deserved for hurting her. Spike swore he would never, that he could never hurt her, not after she came back. What'd it take? Two hours a bottle of Jack and Anya? Fifteen minutes in a bathroom? He even made himself want to retch occasionally. This was one of those moments. He knew what he did to her, and he had done it on purpose, which made it somehow worse. Spike knew if she found out it would hurt her the way she hurt him. Time and time again, she had just bashed him in, tore him down, ripped him apart, all because she was scared of who she really was. Scared of how angry she was that she had to come back. Vampires’ talk a big game, but the truth is, given the chance again, they would have never wanted to be turned. They would have never come back. He knew what it was like to lose that choice, and to be mad as hell about it. Now she did too.

"We are here, stop your daydreams. Get in the back; the young witch can't know you are here yet. I will not tell her."

"Fine, but I will be putting in a protest to Giles about your madness. I don't think Red should be allowed next to you, you really are a crazy bitch."

"The truth is usually regarded as false, the truth teller thought mad. I know this."

Spike hunkered down in the back seat. Yeah, he thought, this is really inconspicuous. No one would ever guess there was a really pasty man hiding under a blanket in the back seat of car with painted out windows. Christ, even Willow knows how to transport a vampire.

"Giles, hello. Our package arrives intact, but sadly without tact."

"Zaezilla, head over to the coven's building. They are expecting you. Willow is over there with them. I will get Spike inside and taken care of."

Giles poked his head into the front window. Spike had left it open.

"Spike? Spike are you in there?"

Spike lifted off the blanket. "Where'd you think I went? She said I was in the damn car. Crazy woman she is! Crazy Giles. Insane! Don't let Red near her."

"Spike, she's not crazy. Just a seer. I should have thought twice about her bringing you here, but I didn't."

"Yeah well remember Drusilla was a seer and look at how well that turned out! Crazy as a bed bug!"

Spike got out of the back seat. Giles had already grabbed his bag out of the trunk. He followed him into this massive stone estate.

"Well, well Giles you never told me your home was so posh. Really, why'd you ever come to Sunnydale? Yeah its dark and dank, but a man could get used to living like this! It's so, subterranean. I like it!"

"Well, it's not mine, I sold my flat to buy the magic box. The coven lets me stay here for free. They have plenty of rooms."

"I always knew witches had good taste. Reminds me of the old days. Quite pleasant even. We holed up in a place like this right after I was turned. We got chased out of London. I wasn't anyone’s favorite vampire. Not classy or chameleon, like the others, instead I was my own man. Thus we ended up living in an abandoned estate after this 'own man' left a trail of bodies to the flat."

"Lovely story Spike, really. Now come lets get you a room up stairs. I got a pint or two from the blood bank for you, I'll grab one for you."

"Giles, I am really against the whole consumption of human blood these days. It’s a little too much for me to handle right now, and I think I won’t ever be able to handle it again."

"Fine. We'll head out to a butcher in the morning."

Spike followed him up a massive set of stone steps. Complete with red tapestry down the center, and large stained glass window at the top of the flight. There must have been a hundred rooms in this place.

"Spike, here is where you'll stay. All the witches, Willow included sleep in the opposite wing to this one. I sleep down the hall. They don't come down here, so they won't bother you."

"Fine Giles. I don't sleep much anyways. The only sleep I've gotten in a short age was courtesy of your pills. Right fine they are."

"I can get you some more if need be. Now I think you have some explaining to do."

He had set Spike's bag down near a vanity. There was a large fireplace and some chairs to rest on. This room felt like Spike's old room. Like William's room, in a house before central heat, when coal and wood kept you warm in drafty winter. The large four-post bed faced the fireplace. Covered in old velvet duvets. It was just what he didn't need right now.

"Giles you are going to want to sit. Wait, when did you get rid of your glasses? You look so very Ripper right now. It's sort of unnerving."

"I got contacts. I had to keep replacing my broken frames and lenses so I decided this might be a better way. I mean how many times will my contacts fly out of my eyes when I am knocked unconscious by some sort of hell beast?" He said as he sat in one of the chairs.

"Giles," Spike said sitting across from him, on the edge of the seat. "I went and got my soul back. There was a rumor, a legend really that it could be done in a cave near the seashore outside of modern day Mombassa. It was one of those jokes you know, like an urban myth. I figured it was my only hope. If it didn't exist I was just going to take a stroll in the noon-day sun."

"Now, am I hearing you correctly? You have gotten your soul back from some sort of legendary cave?"

"Not the cave, it’s what lives in the cave. It’s some sort of demon who gets his rocks off torturing my kind and then giving them what they came for."

"A demon that can restore souls? He's not in any of the demon literature. I've never even heard this legend."

"Well you aren't the undead now are you? See I've a deal for you. You help me with the headaches and nightmares; I give you the demon scoop of the century. It'll get you back in the good graces of the Council, maybe get you reinstated."

"Well, yes this would be amazing. I mean a whole new class of demon, and proof of his existence. This could be very important. But I still don't get it, you went to get a soul?"

"The chip only stopped me from doing what I innately needed to do. A soul stops me on a whole other level. I mean now I can't kill not because of pain, I just can't bring myself to do it. They haunt me, those who I've killed. They follow me around, they nag around in my head, and they give me no peace. I can't even get a night of sleep without one of them attacking me, and me begging to be forgiven. It's not enough to ask, or to apologize. I have to make up for it in a real physical way."

"I had no idea you were so philosophical."

"I was once an educated gentleman. I mean my poetry was god awful, but I was quite sharp, still am." Spike paused, "So now I need your help to help me get my redemption. Help me make up for my wrongs. Now I want to help because I need to for me, for all of them, not because I am trying to get in Buffy's pants. I need to do this for me, and I need you to help me. It'll be easier for me to go back if it starts here."

"Spike I don't even know what to say."

"Just say, 'Spike I will help you.' If you can't say that I need to leave now."

"Yes, of course I will help you. I am just not sure how."

"Well, first off you will keep me in sleeping pills so I can get my senses about me. Pigs’ blood would be preferable, warmed with the weetabix crumbled in it like I like. Get me some paper, I will write you the legend and facts, as I know it about this demon in Africa. This is what I need to do. I need to tangibly do something, words aren't enough anymore."

"I am sure Willow or the Coven could do some sort of binding spell to stop the haunting."

"I don't want magic. I want to do this the right way. This is what I need to do. Inside I am a good man, the monster in me has had control for far too long, and that side of me needs to pay. I am still a monster, but that will not dictate what I do."

"Fine, I will get you a blank book to put the information in." Giles got up to leave.

"Giles, can I ask you something?"

"Well yes, I guess."

"How is she?"

"Who? Buffy?"

"Yeah, I heard some pretty horrible things went down after my exit. Sounds like she doesn't know anyone who hasn't done something unforgivable, except for the wanker, but his existence alone is pretty unforgivable."

"She's doing fine I think. I really haven't been talking to her. Willow talks to Dawn once in a while. She's not allowed to call Buffy or Xander, not until she's doing a bit better. Dawn says things are going well, but she always says that. The roof could have blown off of the house and Dawn would think it was fine."

"So the Niblet is good, that’s good."

"She did mention once that Buffy was lonely, and incredibly poor again. I was going to try to negotiate with the council to give her a stipend or salary, but I had no business going there. Now I do."

"Good. By the way, I know you told me not to spend the money you left me on booze, which was tempting, as the water in Nairobi, well lets just say it was memorable. But I did pick some things up. Here these are for you."

"Spike, you didn't need to do this. Ooo tea glasses! Fine, very fine."

"I got things for the others, could you arrange for them to be sent out?"

"Yes of course. There is some stationary in the vanity over there, you can write some notes if you want. Where do they need to go?"

"Anya, Willow, Buffy and Dawn. I was going to get Xander a coloring book and some crayons but I thought it may be above his intellectual level."

"Right. I will set up for a post drop then. I will be back later with the book and to set up the parcels. It will be dark in about 2 hours. There is a balcony through those curtains, you can climb down to the garden if you want to go for a walk."

"Fine. Thanks."

Giles left. It had been tiring just to get through this. Spike was so tense waiting for Giles to explode on something or him. It was like Giles was expecting this. Damn witch must have sent him brain signals and told him.

"Yes, hello, is this the Council of Watchers? I need to speak with Nicholls, now."

"Who is this?"

"This is Rupert Giles, I need to talk to him immediately this is of the up most importance."

"He has directed me to not put you through. You are no longer a member of this organization sir."

"I have information on a new species of Demon. I have a source of information. I am willing to trade the information for a small token. It's not for me, I don't want my job back, but I do need something from the council."

"Mr. Giles, I am not supposed to do this, but I will."

"Thank you."

Click.

"This is Michael Nicholls, how can I help you?"

"Michael, this is Rupert. You are never going to believe this."

"I don't want to hear it, I don't have time to hear about your former charges problems."

"Michael, this has little to do with her. I found a new species or type of Demon. I have information on it, and confirmation of its existence and location."

"I'm listening, but this better not be some cheap plot to get your job back."

"No, in exchange, I want a stipend or even salary for Buffy. She's outlasted all the others, and if she can't afford to find somewhere to live she will won't last much longer."

"This depends on how important this Demon is. Really Rupert if you expect me to make this sort of deal over the phone, you are gravely mistaken."

"This Demon has a power we didn't know existed outside of witchcraft. It can restore souls."

The line went silent.

"Michael? Michael are you there?"

"Yes, yes I am here. I just can't believe what I have been told. You say you have proof?"

"He's in a room down the hall. He came to me for help, he will write down everything you need to know. The legend, the facts, where, and how, but I won't bring him to you."

"Rupert, now you must be kidding. Anyone could write up a fake story. I need to see this."

"Then you will have to come here. But if you are satisfied with its truth you have to pay Buffy, and she needs back pay. She's been at this a long time; saved the world plenty of times, even sacrificed herself for it. Done a hell of a better job than Faith, so I think she deserves it."

"Fine. When do you want to see me?"

"Tomorrow after sundown. You are to be alone, no tag alongs."

"Yes, yes I will see you then."

The vanity was more of a writing desk. There was some nice parchment and some good quality pens. It had been years since Spike had written anything. He hoped it was like riding a bicycle cos this could end up terrible. Even so, he knew his handwriting would look more like calligraphy than writing today. Back in the day it was all flowers and curlicues, now it was block letters, which was so terribly harsh.

Anya:
I am sorry about the ménage trois between you, Jack Daniels and myself. I hear you are back to your old trade. Hope that’s going well. Here are some hair things. Just so you know, it looks fine. Don't turn anyone into a troll, except maybe Xander.
Spike


Willow:
Heard you tried to end the world. Glad you didn't. Hope things are getting settled down. Saw this on my travels thought of you. If you didn't know it's Isis raising Osiris from the dead, just like you did. Only Buffy didn't become the god of the Underworld, instead she got to be Buffy again, and she’s not blue or a man. You get it. Don't try to end the world anytime soon, Man U is having a good season and I would hate for you to knock it all up.
Spike

Niblet:
Sorry I left without good-bye. I never meant to pull a Captain Cardboard on you. I am sure you have heard what happened between your sis and me. I am sorry about that too. I would still die to protect you, I hope you know that. I found these on my travels. They are the Aten, the sun disk, the energy of the good, the producer of life. They are light, like you. I know they don't make up for what I did but someday I will. Don't play too much rummy with Clem, he tends to cheat.
Spike

Those were easy enough, but how in the hell do you write a 'sorry I almost raped you, here are some presents, please forgive me, I still love you' letter? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She hated him, she had every reason to hate him, to hate the monster in him. He knew he did.

Buffy:
Hello, this is awkward and strange so bear with me. I am sorry. More sorry than you can fathom, and I am doing my best to be a better man than I was. I know that probably means nothing to you, but I really am sorry with every inch of my being. I can't stand myself. If I could, I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror after what I done to you. I mean this. I am a different person now, a better person, please believe me.
While traveling I thought of you. These things are for you. They are statuary and silver from Egypt. The cat headed woman is Bastet, she is a protector, she is agile and strong, and she symbolizes life and love. The one with the lion is Sekmeht or something like that, she is a warrior, she bears the wrath of the gods, and she smites the big bad. Both are you. They are pieces of you. Finally is the ankh, it is a symbol of life. The life you didn't want but that you must lead. I hope that you can be happy in it.
I don't know if I will ever return, but if I do, I will do whatever it takes to make things up to you. I know you could never love me the way I wanted, I understand that now. I only want you to be able to trust me. If not with your heart, at least with your life. Please accept this as a beginning of a new chapter for me, and hopefully, you.
Love, Spike

Spike thought he should eliminate the Love, thing. It was probably too weird. No, he decided should leave it, it was sincere and that’s what matters.

"Spike? Are the things ready? Here is the book. I also brought you up a spot of tea. I won't have blood ‘til tomorrow."

"Yes, here they are. Don't read any of the notes. Please don't. And don't send all of them to Anya, you know she'll rip through everything, and ruin it all."

"Right, of course. You can get to writing in this in the morning. The windows in here are stained glass and dark so you won't fry. Here is a sleeping pill. If you think you will need it. I will stop in the morning and see if you need anything. I may need to bring you to the council."

"Great, why don't you just break my legs and drop in front of some lions?"

"Spike, now, I will only take you if I must and under the complete understanding that they can't kill you."

"Fine."

Night."

Giles left, with parcels in tow. It was night now. The tea was still hot. it was a bit strange, the craving for warmth vampires have. Anything warm or hot was like heaven. Spike thinks a walk would be nice under the stars. He hadn't been around here in so long it might feel good to stretch out and take a look around.

The large window behind the massive velvet curtain was unlocked and opened easily. A small wrought iron balcony with ladder descending was on the outside. He climbed down to the gardens. The place was expertly manicured. They even had the shrubbery cut into little animals and such. The earth was soggy. It must have been raining for days before he arrived. That's just the England he remembered! The earth smelled so clean, like home. No wonder Dracula took a bit of home everywhere he went, it was satisfying, comfortable.

The sky was so clear; the clouds must have broken up sometime after sundown. He laid down on the grass to look up at the sky. It was so beautiful. Stars everywhere. Perfect time for a smoke. The only thing that could make this perfect for him is a bottle of wine and Buffy. But a smoke would do.

"Well, look at what we have here."
 

Mr. Giles, your guest is not alone. Should I take them both tea?"

"Sara, what? There are two of them? Figures. Yes, actually make it for four, Spike will be joining us shortly."

As he entered the room, Giles' worst fear came true. There he was, Quentin Travers. What a badger he was! Couldn't keep his nose out of anything. As director of the council he did more to piss Giles' off than anyone on earth.

"Rupert! What a pleasure. Mr. Nicholls told me about your discovery and I just had to see it for myself."

"You weren't invited. I would appreciate it if you would leave, now."

"Now Rupert, stop it. I am not here to start a fight; I just want to see what you have brought us. I am the one who decides if Buffy gets paid. There is quite a bounty on this recollection, and I need to see it to make my decision. Now where is your restored vampire?"

"He is coming. Nicholls, you couldn't keep your bloody mouth shut for 1 day could you?"

"Well, Rupert, its not entirely his fault. I received calls from both Samuel and Abdullah about their cargo. Abdullah really seemed to enjoy his time with your traveler. If you are using my watchers as babysitters than I have a right to be involved. It's not like I can deport you this time." Quentin laughed.

"Fine. But I have the feeling there is something else going on besides the freak show."

"We will discuss that later."

Spike entered the room carrying the book Giles had left with him.

"Evening. Here is your book, all the info I have, take a good look at me cos I am the proof, and now I have to go." He threw the book at Travers, remarkably Travers caught it.

"Just you wait one minute." Travers couldn't keep his damn mouth shut.

"Oh look its the Tweed Avenger! Look, I told you I had this info, I offered it up, but I never agreed to a cup of tea and civilized conversation with you. If I am not mistaken your Council’s objectives are still to wipe the world clean of the likes of me, soul or no soul."

"Actually Mr...?"

"Its Spike, no Mister."

"Yes, Spike, well the Council has no real stance on souled Vampires. Plus our arm of power is still seated at the Hell mouth, so I think you are safe as houses."

"Right then. What do you want? I gave you all I knew in that book. Sorry if the writings a little scratchy, 'avn't written in a bit."

"What have your souled experiences been like?"

"Oh they are a real joy, you know all puppies and sunshine! Toss off! My soul is none of your business." Spike tapped out a cigarette from the pack. "And I'll have you know I'm not gonna become one of your agents or whatever they are, I have my own purpose!"

"Which is?"

"None of your bloody well business!"

"Fine then, we were willing to offer you safe passage back to the Hell mouth, but if you aren't interested..."

"What? I'm listening."

"We would like you to return to the Hell mouth, keep us abreast of the situation."

"What situation? I'm not going to be your damn eyes and ears! I am not a spy!"

"Not as a spy. Something is coming, and you will be needed."

"Giles do they teach cryptic at the Council cos I think I need to brush up on my 'we're not telling you the whole story' skills."

"Spike, this is serious. This has nothing to do with Mr. Giles. You have superior strength to an average human. There is still only one slayer, well two, but only one is at the Hell mouth, and she can't take what is coming on her own. Mr. Giles will be serving in a different position."

"So let me get this right, something is coming, Slayer can't take it on her own, you need me to lend some muscle to the situation to keep the Slayer safe?"

"Yes, in a nutshell."

"What is it? What is coming after her? Nothing can happen to her! Do you hear me? Nothing! You aren't even going to tell her what is headed her way are you? And how do you know I can do anything about it? I can't even be told what it is, so how am I supposed to save her?"

"Buffy is no longer under the jurisdiction of the Council. Nor is Faith. We technically have 2 rogue Slayers out there. One is completely capable without us, and I believe the other is currently incarcerated."

"Well I am going to need to know what is coming, otherwise the deal is off."

"We aren't quite sure, that's part of the problem. We can let you know when we figure it out, but it is very important that we get you back to Sunnydale to begin your role."

"Buffy an I aren't on the greatest of terms. I don't think she'd let me protect her let alone let me near her."

"Spike is right Quentin, him and Buffy had a bit of an incident and I don't think this is advisable."

"Giles stay out of this. Now I can't imagine that what happened was so awful. You will be heading out tomorrow if you want to do this."

"Well actually it was that bad. You could send me back though and I can slowly work my way back into her good graces. So, yes I guess I will do this. But I am doing it for Buffy, not for the Tweed and Corduroy Club."

"We will send someone by tomorrow to take you. You should leave now."

"Well aren't we demanding? Go protect the Slayer, Go tomorrow, Go now! Blimey, no wonder Buffy cut you off." Spike turned to leave. "Giles where is Willow right now? I need to see her about something."

"Spike I thought she wasn't supposed to know you were here?"

"I ran into her in the garden last night, we keep the same hours you know."

"She should be in her room now, go right at the top of the stairs, first room on the left. Don't tell her you are going home. She shouldn't know."

"Right, fine. Later."

Spike left, headed towards the stairs. Something was going on, and the Council wasn't telling the whole story as far asGiles could tell.

"Rupert, now we come to you."

"Yes, well I should be finishing up with Willow any day and then I can return to my post in Sunnydale."

"We do need you to go to Sunnydale, but you will need to pick some things up on the way."

"Fine, what? I hope my expenses will be covered, I'm not independently wealthy and Willow destroyed my livelihood when she went bad."

"Not what, who. We have had reports from around the globe that our Potential Slayers and their watchers are being slaughtered. They just started to come in. We aren't sure there is reason for alarm yet. This could be nothing, but we think it would be a good time to start sending them to the Slayer. We have notified the remaining watchers with girls to start sending them, but there are some girls who haven't been called yet or whose watchers are now eliminated, we need you to go to them and get them sent to Sunnydale."

"Have any of you notified Buffy on this? I mean they are being sent to her and she has no idea! She won't know what in the hell is going on."

"She won't listen to us, but she will listen to you. We have brought two girls from the area here to be with you, safe within the confines of the coven. Another you can pick up in New York on your way to Sunnydale. You can then explain the situation to Buffy and head out to gather the others."

"What is going on here? What is potentially going on here Quentin? Michael do you know?"

"Sorry Giles I have no idea, very good tea though." Michael said as he looked out on the gardens.

"Rupert, this could be our worst nightmare coming true. In the meanwhile we need to investigate more. If we are right, if our fears are confirmed, we will need all the help we can get."

"I need more information before I agree to this."

"Damnit Giles, Samuel was killed an hour after he sent Spike on his way. Abdullah's girl was gutted in her bed just this morning. Something is coming after them. You have more experience with apocalyptic situations than all of us combined. Your slayer has outlasted all of ours, only you and her can do this."

"When do I leave?"

"In a week, maybe sooner."

"Fine."

What a deal! Gee, hi Buffy I know you hate me, but the Council you hate has sent me to protect you! Say, How have you been? Yeah that’s going to go over like a ton of bricks. That is if she even will talk to me. Spike thought as he ascended the stairs. Willow's room was exactly where Giles said it would be.

"Red? Red you in there?" Spike knocked on the door.

"What? Who? Stop the frogs they must not get there!"

"Willow? Are you okay?"

The door opened. A very groggy half awake Willow stood there.

"Spike? What do you want? I am sleepy. It's sleepy time for Willow, you know like that happy little fat bear on the sleepy time tea box?"

"I just need you help for a few minutes, then you can go back to sleep. Alright?"

"Sure, fine sleep is overrated anyways."

Willow's room was a strange mix of witch and shrine to friends. She went in the side room to change into real clothes. On the back of the door were tons of photos. All the Scoobies were there, but it was mostly Buffy and Tara. Spike almost had forgotten what just Buffy's face could do to him. She looked so happy in the photos. One of Willow, Buffy and Anya at the beach was falling off the door. They were all on blankets, in bikinis with drinks with little umbrellas in them. Smiling happily in the summer sun. That body, what that body could do was enough to drive a man to do almost anything.

"Stop drooling Romeo."

"What? Oh this one was falling off, I wasn't trying to nick it."

"I know, I was meaning to tape it back up. So what's up? What'd you need?"

"I am leaving tomorrow."

"You just got here! Please can't you stay? I am so desperate for foolish conversation!"

"I can't, I have to leave. You will probably get to see me in a few weeks. I need a favor from you."

"Fine, where are you going?"

"Can't tell you Red. It’s classified."

"Stop talking like Riley, its creepy. What do you need?"

"A haircut, desperately."

"I kinda noticed. I had no idea your hair was so dark. I guess I never realized you bleached it."

"Yeah, its that whole 'blondes have more fun' thing."

"I'm not supposed to do any spells which stop me from doing something I can already do, That means no glamours, no shutting doors from across the room, and no floating objects. I mean like floating a pencil is so evil!"

"I thought we could try this the old fashioned way, I am sure you've got a snips around here somewhere."

"Oh! CUT your hair! I get it, I am probably not going to be very good at it."

"I am sure it will be fine. At least you have fingers to use the snips. Back in Sunnydale I once had to go to a guy with hooves! Needless to say I never went back there!"

"Are we going to dye it too? Cos this could be fun. I mean I could get some highlights out of it!"

"This isn't a make-over party pet. I just need a trim up. I think I'll leave it as it is for a while."

"Okay fine. Hold on."

She came back with a scissors. Spike was still contemplating stealing that photo. He sat in a chair facing the door, he could study the images on the wall, all of them happy moments, how he wished they had shared some of them. Willow began cutting. Small wisps of blonde fell to the floor.

"You want me to just cut off the blonde? That should make it look better, then I am sure you can find someone without hooves to fix it up where ever you are going."

"That'll do."

Spike wasn't up for much chatting after the trim, so he gratefully excused himself afterwards and told Red he would see her soon. He was back in his room when he started second-guessing that decision. On the vanity were three large bottles of sleeping pills. Either Giles was stocking him up or trying to put him into a coma. Spike swallowed one of them with some of the whiskey he nicked while in the library. Just because he had a soul didn't mean he couldn't be a thief. While Spike waited for it to kick in he decided to have a bath. He had those scratchy itchy hairs stuck in his shirt collar and it was about to drive him screaming mad. It would be fine. Tomorrow he would be packed, rested, fed, clean, and ready to embark to the land of 'she could never love me cos I am nothing but a monster but I need to take care of her'. This was about to get interesting.