Nothing To Fear

Chapter 1
A/N This very first chapter is very Buffy/Riley heavy. However there really is a reason for this and I promise that Spuffyness will ensue in Chapter 2.

"Damn it," Riley said, as he broke off kissing Buffy to look at the offending phone. Much to Buffy's dismay his hands also stopped moving under her shirt.

"Let it ring," she said breathlessly as she tried to pull him back down into another kiss.

Buffy sighed as he got off the bed and went for the phone. For a moment she had considered holding him in place, making him wrestle his way off the bed, but she knew Riley wouldn't be amused by that kind of display of her strength. The bed was defiantly not the place to remind him just who was stronger.

She hated how he rushed off after the phone every time it rang, like it was his old beeper from the Initiative. She sometimes got the feeling that he was waiting for them to call him. Waiting for the government to offer him some new monster hunting gig. But it was never the government. It was always Buffy's friends, calling to let them know about the newest weird in Sunnydale or just to invite them to hang out. And every time Riley seemed a little disappointed.

Buffy hated it. She was sorry for Riley. All of his friends had been in the Initiative, and those that hadn't been killed by Adam's human vs. demon war had left town when the Initiative was shut down. So now all he had was her and her friends, and it didn't seem to be enough for him. She didn't seem to be enough for him.

"Hello? Hey Willow, yeah she's here, hold on," he tossed the phone over to her, "It's Willow, it's for you."

"Right okay, Riley and I'll grab some weapons and meet you out in front of the old Alma Mater in about 10 minutes, sound good?"

She and Willow finished making plans to meet in front of the chemistry building. For the hundredth time Buffy wondered how Willow could take so many courses during the summer.

"See, I told you it could be important," Riley said after she had hung up with Willow, "So what is it, some new demon? Vampires? What?"

"Will do you think maybe mentioning that this demon was made out of stone might have been more useful information than what color it is?" Buffy asked as her fist painfully connected with the demon's hard outer shell.

Luckily the purple lava monster, as Buffy had dubbed it, was slow moving so all of Buffy's injuries were coming from her hitting it, not it hitting her. Buffy couldn't figure out how it could eat people. But Willow had assured her, that she had rescued another student from it, before Buffy had arrived. Evidently the guy had just stared curiously at the thing as it grabbed him.

Maybe it had to do with the spit. The demon was slow, but the thing sure could spit.

This was getting her no where. She needed something to hit it with, a mace or a large hammer, or something. Riley had gone to get the tire iron out of the back of his truck, and she just hopped he'd be back soon. The axe she had brought was completely useless, and it was her favorite axe so there was no way she was gong to dull it trying to chop through stone.

The demon was shaped rather like a volcano. Buffy wasn't really sure how it moved, since it didn't seem to have any legs, but move it did. It had no face, just a very large mouth with wicked looking stone teeth and the two arms which kept trying to grab her.

"Eewww," Buffy cried, the demon had just spit on her while she had turned to catch the weapon.

It stung a little, but no big deal. Besides, now she had a weapon she could use. Buffy began to strike the thing with all her might, chipping away at the demon. Now wherever she struck it purple chips flew off and a thick purple fluid oozed out.

The demon emitted a high picked whine, and Buffy switched her grip on the tire iron and thrust it up into the demon's mouth. The end of the tire iron poked up out of the top of the demon. Purple blood shot up into the air, out of the wound.

"Even better than baking soda and vinegar," Buffy said. As they watched more and more of the blood poured out. Flowing down the rocky outer face and eroding it. In a few minutes nothing was left but a puddle of chunky goo.

"Well let's hope we don't get a flat on the way home, because I'm not retrieving that." Riley said.

"No, kidding," Willow said. "Well, I still have a chemistry experiment to finish, so I'll see you guys later."

Buffy wiped the demon spit off of her face. Then Buffy put her arm through Riley's and rested her head against him. "Let's get home and have our own chemistry experiment," she said.

"What?" Riley looked at her aghast. When they'd first met Riley had tried to help Buffy overcome her mistrust of cars and teach her to drive. He'd figured she really couldn't be that bad, she'd just never had a patient teacher. They'd only lasted one session and then they'd both happily given up. Not that Riley was scared of Buffy behind the wheel, he told himself, it just the Initiative health plan didn't cover amputations not caused by HSTs.

"D r i v e," Buffy said slowly to make sure he'd understand, "Can I?" she seemed excited and perky.

To Riley's relief that seemed to satisfy Buffy and she happily climbed into the the passenger seat of his truck.

As he began to drive back toward his apartment Buffy began to nibble on his ear.

"Hey now," he said gently, "I'm driving here," not that he was really very upset, the attention from Buffy was nice. She giggled against his neck, her breath tickling him. He was beginning to feel aroused, and decided that five miles above the speed limit wouldn't really hurt anyone.

Then suddenly Buffy's hand was between his legs and she was unzipping him. Before he could react she had grabbed him and started stroking him to attention. Caught by surprise his right foot pressed forward, and suddenly they were doing way more than five miles above the speed limit.

"BUFFY!" he shouted as he tugged hard on the wheel to avoid another car passing legally through the intersection where he was running a red light. The truck swerved to a stop. "What the hell do you think you're doing! Are you trying to get us killed."

"What?" Buffy said with a perfectly innocent face, "I'm just trying to be a good girlfriend."

"Just. . . just wait till we get home okay?" he zipped himself back up looking warily at her.

Riley knew the remainder of the drive couldn't have been more than five minutes, but it seemed an eternity. Buffy was sitting all the way on the other side of the truck by the window, very pointedly not talking to him.

He had barely finished parking the truck when Buffy was out the door and standing impatiently in front of his apartment door.

As soon as they were inside, she turned to look at him and said, "So am I allowed to touch you now?"

Much to his relief, Buffy smiled. "You didn't answer my question," she said coyly and knelt down in front of him. She looked up at him through her long eyelashes.

He'd lost his erection during her icy silence but now he could feel his blood rushing back down below the waist. "Yeah baby, you can touch me."

He groaned as he mouth began to suck him. Buffy was hardly the most skillful blow job he'd ever had. Hell most of the girls he'd dated in high school had been better. But then they'd had more practice. He'd known the very first time Buffy had gone down on him that she had never done it before. He loved knowing that his was the only dick that had ever been in her mouth. He'd always hated having to kiss those other girls.

But Buffy was almost only his. She'd only had two other sexual experiences before him. Although those had shown very poor judgment. Still he could forgive her that.

One of her hands reached inside the flap of his boxers, and she cupped his balls.

"That's enough Buffy," he said, pulling away from her before he climaxed in her mouth. She'd never done that before. She seemed to think that oral sex meant mouths only.

"Shh, it's not that," he said as he kissed her to keep her quiet and moved her toward the bed.

He lay her down on the bed, "Let me just get the lights," he said moving toward the light switch.

Damn, she must have been reading Cosmo again. She always seemed to think that she was doing stuff wrong in bed. And when had she started asking so many questions again? She'd been like that when they first started sleeping together. Always afraid that she'd do something wrong, that she wouldn't be good enough and he'd leave. And then just when he'd convinced her that he liked her just the way she was, Faith came along and messed everything up. She'd been convinced that Faith in her body must have been better in bed.

She just didn't get it. He didn't want an experienced girl. He'd had lots of those when he was her age. He wanted a girl he could settle down with. A girl he could marry, who could be the mother of his children.

Still, she was obviously not going to be quiet tonight so he bit the bullet and asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"I've always been curious about what you'd feel like inside my," she stopped, searching for the word she wanted, "ass."

He couldn't believe his ears. She didn't even sound embarrassed when she suggested it. He'd never heard her be that forward before. "Buffy, how many times have I told you, I don't want to play any kinky games with you, I just want to make love to you," that always worked. She would become all apologetic and tell him how much she loved him and then they could get on with it. Evidently not this time.

"That's. . . That's stupid logic!" She reached over to turn on his bedside lamp. When the light came on he could see she was angry.

"No, that's the whole point. You're my first real lover. The first guy who ever stuck around so that it could be more than a one night stand. If I can't experiment with you, who can I do it with?"

"I love you too. I just don't see why you get to make all the decisions about sex."

"Sure it is. Look, you have more experience fighting demons. I grant you that. All my military training, well, it looks inadequate compared to the stuff you've seen here in your hometown. That's why, difficult as it was, I've learned to let you give the orders in the field-"

"So this is all about who out ranks who and giving orders?" Buffy voice had become a high pitched shriek. How could she misunderstand him so badly. "So if I was a whore you'd give me what I want is that it?" She jumped up off the bed and headed for the door.

He winced as the striker for the door flew out of the door frame and crashed into his stereo. Without the striker to hold the door in place, the front door to his apartment swung open and shut.

Chapter 2
It was Tuesday night and Spike was bored. There never seemed to be anything good on the tele on Tuesdays.

So Spike was out roaming the graveyard near his crypt hoping to find something to kill.

Then he caught the scent of vanilla on the wind. The Slayer! She was always good for some amusement. He could no longer fight her physically, but he was always up for a little verbal sparring. Not to mention the fun of watching her storm off in righteous indignation after a particularly nasty barb. She always swayed her hips in the most enticing way when she was mad.

As soon as she came into view, Spike realized she was already mad. Another vampire would have most likely avoided a Slayer so obviously on the war path. But Spike just had to know what had gotten under her skin and see if he could drive it in a little deeper.

"Oh, great, just what I need, another stupid, pig-headed, alpha-male wanna-be," Buffy said when she saw Spike.

"Well, I don't have to guess who shoved the stake up your ass. Bit unfair to take it out on the rest of the male population though. So just what did soldier-boy do to ruffle your feathers so badly."

"You think you're so smart don't you Spike?" He nodded. He didn't think it, he knew it. "Well for you're information the problem was that he wouldn't stick anything up my ass."

Spike was momentarily stunned. He couldn't have imagined the Slayer ever saying something like that. There could only be one explanation for a sentence like that coming out of the Slayers self-righteous mouth, especially since she didn't even blush. She was under some kind of spell. Still, whatever it was, it was causing her to say the most interesting things. Things that brought to mind the most interesting images.

"Wow Spike, I've never actually seen someone's jaw drop before." She stepped in close to him, placed her hand on his chin, and shut his mouth manually.

Then she looked at him as if she'd never seen him before. She licked her lips, and suddenly Spike could smell the scent of arousal coming off of her in waves. "You know what I just remembered?" she said with a low sexy voice.

He had no idea. His mind was too overwhelmed with images of Buffy bent over a tombstone as he fucked her up the ass.

She held the lapels of his duster and ran her thumbs over the leather. "You once promised me that you'd 'fuck me everywhere I could be fucked.'"

"That was supposed to be on our wedding night, luv," it was the only thing he couldn't think of to say. His mouth was dry, his cock was hard, and it was screaming at him to grab her and shag her senseless there on the ground. And why the hell had he called her luv? He hated her. She was sexy sure, hell he'd wanted her since he'd first seen her, but that didn't mean he liked her.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her tight against him, rubbing his erection against the ass she'd just offered him. "I didn't say that," he growled in her ear.

This was stupid, the one part of his brain that still worked told him. The spell will wear off, or be broken and she'll come straight to your crypt and stake you for even thinking of touching her.

"Are you sure, pet? I might do all sort of evil things to you?" he didn't know why he was giving her this out. Not only should he not care what she thought, but she obviously wasn't really making her own decisions right now.

That was it. That was what decided him. He couldn't hurt her. But he could damn well be evil. Oh yes, he'd show her evil. He'd fuck her in ways she couldn't even imagine. He'd make her cum over and over. He'd make this the best night of her life, so that when the spell or whatever it was wore off, she'd have no choice but to live the rest of her knowing that no one could fuck her like her worst enemy. Not to mention, she was Captain Cardboard's girl. Even if the wanker was too stupid to notice a gift from heaven when it was dropped squirming and horny into his lap.

He picked her up, as if he were in fact her newlywed sweetheart and started in the direction of his crypt.

"Chip remember? If I'm going to fuck you up the ass without hurting you, we're going to need some lube."

It would have been romantic, if it hadn't been Spike. He'd carried her into his crypt, then kicked open the trap door that led to the lower level. He'd cradled her head in one hand to protect it, and then leapt down into the darkness.

She'd never seen the lower level before. Still hadn't really. It was much to dark for her to see anything. But Spike walked surely across the floor, and lay her down on what was obviously his bed. Then he was on top of her kissing her.

He really was as good a kisser as she had remembered. His kisses sent shivers down her spine and the dampness between her legs spread even further. It took a few moments before she was able to push him away.

"Second thoughts?" he asked. If she didn't know Spike better she would have thought he sounded hurt.

"No, I just want to be able to see you." She waited for him to tell her no, or laugh at her, or just ignore her the way Riley had earlier that night. Instead she felt him lift off of her, and heard the rustling of his leather duster. Then she heard the familiar click of his lighter and Spike began to light candles.

There had to be at least a dozen large candles spread around the bed, and Spike lit them all. The flickering candlelight made it seem even more romantic, but only in an Anne Rice sort of way, she reminded herself. This wasn't about romance after all.

This was about sex, and doing all the dirty little things that Riley wouldn't let her. About trying to learn some of those secrets that men seemed to be trying to hide from her. And about how good a kisser Spike was. And maybe getting rid of all those embarrassing dreams Buffy had had about Spike since Willows spell.

"Nuh-uh," she said, stopping his decent with her foot on his hard stomach. "I said I wanted to see you. All of you."

Spike bit his lower lip and smiled. He backed up to the foot of the bed and let his duster fall to the floor. Then he lifted up his t-shirt. Buffy's breath caught. Wow, that's a really nice chest, she thought. Then she watched entranced as his hands moved to his belt. As he lowered his jeans, Buffy was surprised to see he didn't wear any underwear at all.

Finally he stood before her completely naked. She felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. He was so beautiful. The candlelight danced across his marble skin, adding a redish blush, making him look almost alive. He was all hard angle's in all the right places, and below the perfectly sculpted chest and the nest of dark curls his thick eager cock glistened.

Wow, Buffy thought again. She had never actually seen a man entirely naked before. Despite her best efforts Riley always managed to keep his boxers on until he was under the covers, and the lights were out.

She kicked off her shoes. Then she lifted up her top and wriggled out of her pants. She was about to undo her bra when he said, "That's enough luv. I'll get the rest. Though I must say, I wouldn't have figured you for the black thong type."

"Guess you don't know me as well as you think. Huh, Spike?" she retorted, although secretly she was glad she had been planning a night out, and wasn't wearing some of her more ordinary underwear.

He began to crawl up the bed toward her, like a predatory cat. She looked into his blue eyes and saw a deep hunger she'd never seen before. No one had ever looked at her quite like that. Not even Spike, who'd often looked at her as if she were a tasty treat.

When he reached her knees, he spread apart her legs, and began kissing his way up the inside of her thigh. She was completely absorbed in the feel of his velvet lips so it took her completely by surprise when she felt a cool finger plunge into her core.

"Fuck, aren't you a tight little thing?" he said. His eyes were closed and he ran the tip of his tongue over his incisors. "I wager you're sweet too." With that he pulled his finger out, leaving her feeling incredibly empty, and put it in his mouth. He sucked on it. His cheeks caved in, emphasizing his incredible cheek bones even more. Slowly he pulled the finger out, as if it was coated with honey and he wanted to get every single drop.

"Do. . . do you like how I taste?" she knew she shouldn't ask questions but she couldn't seem to help it tonight.

He just smiled at her, "I'm going to have to start calling you my sweet," he joked. Then before she could form another thought, his head was between her legs as his fingers pushed aside her thong, and his tongue was teasing her outer folds.

"Spike. . . you. . . don't have. . . to," she said breathless. She didn't want him to stop, it felt wonderful, but she knew guys hated doing this.

That was, Buffy thought, the first thing all night that actually made sense. He was lying to her of course, because he was a vampire and evil. In a minute or two, he'd get bored and move onto something else, in the mean time she'd enjoy it while it lasted.

And she really enjoyed it. She was very quickly panting out a series of oh's. It was at that point that Riley had always stopped and they moved on to other things. But Spike showed no sign of stopping. Not only was he licking her, but he'd now put two fingers inside her and was vigorously exploring inside of her.

Not that he's better at this than Riley, Buffy defiantly thought. Stupid vampire, he hasn't even found my clit-"OH GOD SPIKE!"

Buffy's mind went completely blank. Her whole world condensed down onto the feeling that was rising deep in her womb. He was sucking her clit. Flicking it with his tongue. Causing wave upon wave of sensation to run through her body like an electric shock. Her hands moved involuntarily to his head to pull him in closer. She was grinding her hips against him. Her whole body was moving about him as if he were her fulcrum.

She felt as if she'd blacked out. Slowly the world returned. She could feel her limbs trembling. With what seemed a huge effort she ordered her hands to let go of Spike's head. She had dug her fingers deep into his scalp, and she knew he'd be mad. Then she ordered her legs to unclench and let him go. She didn't even remember wrapping them around him.

He didn't look mad though. He grinned up at her and ran a hand through his now messy hair. He pulled himself up level with her face and propped his head up on one arm while he studied her through amused eyes.

All Buffy could do however was lie there gasping, "wow. . . oh. . . that. . . oh wow"

"What did I do something wrong?" she asked. She was resigned to the fact she had. She was always doing something wrong. She just hoped that for once someone would tell her what it was.

"Don't be daft pet. What could you possibly do wrong? It's just. . . Buffy? . . Was that your first orgasm?"

"Don't be ridiculous Spike. That wasn't . . . I mean yeah it was more. . . but not. . .Riley and I have sex all the time. I like sex with him. Why would I have sex with him if I didn't have orgasms?"

It was a silly idea. Only Spike could be so arrogant as to think something like that. So yeah, that had been pretty incredible. Okay maybe the most incredible thing she'd ever felt. But still, it wasn't like there wasn't some release with Riley. There was the kissing and the passion, and she would get wet. And it felt nice when Riley was inside of her.

So why did she always want something more from him, asked the little voice Buffy could never quite keep quiet. This was the first time they had ever fought about it, but it wasn't the first time she'd hinted at Riley that she wanted to try something more adventurous. She'd just never been as forceful as she'd been about it tonight.

Why would I have sex with him if I didn't have orgasms? The little voice taunted. Because you don't want to lose your boyfriend maybe. Because you never knew sex could be like this.

"I never said it was pet. I'm just surprised is all. Not about Captain Cardboard. I just always figured you and Angel used to shag like bunnies."

Just when Buffy thought the evening couldn't get any more surreal Spike sent her mind around another bend. Was he serious? Didn't he know? Everyone knew? How could he not know?

"Why would I be. I thought you two had the big love. Or what, he get all self conscious about the cradle robbing?"

"You really don't know, do you? And hello, you're more than a hundred years older than me too."

"Yeah, but you're old enough to be legal now pet. Not that I can about that, because I'm evil, and really all about breaking the law. So what's the big mystery?"

Part of her brain was doing a little dance. There was actually someone who didn't know all about the most humiliating event of her life. Not that it felt all that humiliating right now. For some reason right here, right now, it didn't feel like her fault. It didn't feel like there was anything wrong with her that she had to hide from everyone. She felt like she was free.

"You mean he's cursed not to have sex or he goes all evil. Remind me to send the gypsies some flowers."

"It wasn't the sex. I mean it was, but it wasn't. The whole point of the curse was so that he would suffer. So if he ever felt a moment of perfect happiness the curse would be broken and he'd loose his soul. And Angelus really never bragged about that?"

"All he ever said about how he lost his soul was 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.' Always was a bit of a drama queen. So it was your cherry wasn't it?"

"So are the things I'm planing on doing to you," he whispered from her ear. And just like that Spike went from being considerate-listening-guy to just-wants-to-have-sex-guy.

Not that Buffy entirely minded. Spike as horny pig she could deal with. Spike as confidant she didn't really feel comfortable with.

"As if. I never asked you to go down on me Spike, so if you think I'm going to suck your cock you can just forget it. That's not what I came here for."

He was reaching into a drawer beside the bed. He pulled out a plastic bottle containing a clear liquid.

"Ungrateful bitch. I never asked you to. Now if you still want it up the ass, get on your hands and knees."

What was he thinking? Normally? Normally he would have just shoved her against the wall of his crypt and used her as he liked. Reveled in her pain. It was the damn chip. It was changing him. Addling his senses. He would never admit it to any one, but once or twice he'd actually forgotten that he was evil.

Which he obviously still was. What he was about to do to the Slayer's ass was proof of it.

And what an ass it was. It was every bit as perfect as he'd always known it would be. Every bit of her was.

First thing first. As beautiful a tableau the Slayer on her hands and knees wearing nothing but her bra and thong was, it was time for her to loose the last of her clothes. He deftly undid the clasp of her bra with one hand, although he did have to twist his wrist at an odd angle, since he was used to undoing them from the front. Then he ripped the thong off of her.

Instead he cupped her ass with his hands, and ran them all the way up and down her back, to soothe her. He began to press harder and massage her until he felt her muscles relax and her heart beat steady. Then he slowly thrust the finger he had coated into her tight passage.

She gasped. He held still and let her test out the feel of him. He felt her muscles squeeze him experimentally, and then gently she began to move against him.

"That's my girl," he said in his most soothing voice. The one he used to lead unsuspecting girls into dark alleys.

He didn't care. She could deny it all she liked, but he had laid a claim to her tonight that would never go away. So Angel had been her first, who cared. Any man could take a girl's virginity, there was no skill required. But he'd given her her first taste of what sex could really be. Should really be.

This had turned out to be so much better than he ever could have imagined. From here on out, he would be her measuring stick. Any other man who ever touched her would be judged against him. And he had quite a large stick.

A third finger slid inside her and she began to whimper in pleasure. Then his other hand moved around her front and he slipped his fingers into her her other opening.

Her whole body jerked and she cried out, "Oh, god yes, Spike. More, please, your fingers. Please, yes!"

He'd only meant to wet his fingers with her juices, so that he could coat his waiting cock. But it was obvious that working both of her entrances was driving her crazy, so he let her enjoy it for the moment. He thrust in and out of her with both hands, while Buffy's body desperately tried to decide which direction she wanted to be fucked from the most.

He honed all his senses in on her. Her pulse, her breathing, the quivering of her muscles, her scent. He wanted to time this just right. He felt her movements become more frantic, her breathing more erratic, as her climax approached. That was when he pulled out of her completely.

"That's my girl, demand to be finished off," he smiled. He really hoped he was ruining her for any other man. What a sweet revenge that would be against the girl who had cost him the love of his life.

His hands however were not idle. He grabbed his cock, and quickly coated it with the fluids from both hands. Once he felt sure he was sufficiently slick, he grabbed her hips, just as she was about to turn on him.

The moment the tip of his cock came into contact with her moist passage he forgot everything else. He threw caution to the wind and thrust into her. After only a moment she began to move against him screaming his name, begging him to fuck her harder.

He had never felt anything like her. She was like slick, hot, satin squeezing every inch of his cock. She bucked under him like a wild beast desperate to be free, and yet the scent of her arousal had grown so strong that he could taste it on his tongue.

He dug his fingers into her hips and used them to thrust even harder into her. She took every inch of him and begged him for more.

There was, Spike knew, no way he could last long against this onslaught. So he let his right hand move around to her front and he pinched her clit.

"SPIKE!" she slammed against him even harder, something he wouldn't have thought possible and her muscles clenched around him pulling him over the edge with her. He screamed incoherently, his mind had been pushed to a place where words were no longer possible.

Her body continued to jerk under him, until her arms simply gave out, and she crashed head first into the pillows taking him with her. He managed to find the strength to pull out of her. But it took everything he had at the moment and he collapsed back on top of her.

It was amazing just lying there on top of her. His body rocked by the motion of her breathing as she gasped, desperate to breath again.

"Sorry pet, I tried to be gentle." That was an outright lie. He'd completely forgot about being gentle once he was inside her. But she hadn't seemed to mind at the time.

"Of course," Buffy suddenly said turning around to face him, and forcing him to roll off of her, "that did dispel all the myths I've heard about vampire stamina."

"Bitch. You want vampire stamina, I'll show you bloody vampire stamina." He grabbed her by the shoulders and his tongue began a violent exploration of her mouth.

"Riley called last night, looking for you. He said you two had a fight. I was just worried when you didn't come home. And now you're limping."

"It's nothing, I'm okay. I was really mad at Riley so I went out patrolling, ran into Spike, and spent the night at his place. Which is why I'd really like to take a shower now and get some real sleep."

"Of course dear, but you might want to give Riley a call, he was very worried about you. I got the impression that he was calling everyone to look for you."

"I don't really want to talk to Riley right now. Could you maybe call Giles for me. No point in worrying everyone."

"Sure thing honey, but if you and Riley are fighting, the sooner you talk to him the better," her mother said. Buffy winced as she started up the stairs. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Actually, she was a lot sore, but she didn't want to worry her mom. It's not like she'd been fighting or anything last night. Well, except for the lava monster.

When she got to the bathroom, Buffy decided that maybe a bath was a better idea. Nothing better for sore muscles, especially ones she didn't know she'd had until last night, then a nice hot bath with lots of bubbles.

Hopefully that would also relax her enough to shut out the guilty and confusing thoughts floating through her head.

She couldn't help but feel bad about sneaking out of Spike's crypt before he'd woken up, but she'd been really tired, and had wanted a shower and her own bed. She could vividly remember the times she had woken up to find the man she'd spent the night with missing. It wasn't a fun experience. It was in fact, one of the things she loved most about Riley. He was always there. Every time they slept together she either woke up next to him or found him in the room doing his morning calisthenics. She never had to worry that he'd turned evil on her.

Not that that was a concern with Spike. He was already evil. Even so, she figured, why give him the chance to throw her out? Laugh in her face the way he had done when he'd seen Parker break up with her.

Not that it mattered to her if he did. It was just that kind of scene was too much of a hassle. It's not like she was looking for a relationship with Spike anyway.

Slowly she got into the tub. As careful as she was, it still stung when she sat down. Crap! Evil vampire, how long would it be until she could sit down again? Not that she hadn't asked for it, literally.

The hot water rushing over her sex and thoughts of Spike combined to make her moan.

What's wrong with me? Buffy wondered. All that sex I had last night and I want more? Maybe I shouldn't have snuck out. If I'd stayed and woken Spike up, maybe we'd be having sex right now.

Absently her hand sank under the water and between her legs, as she began to rub herself. Memories of the night before flitted through her head. Spike inside her, Spike on top of her, Spike beneath her, Spike's head between her legs, Spike's cock in her mouth, Spike-

"Buffy, it's Riley. I'm so sorry. . . I need to talk to you. . . Can I come in?"

"Buffy," he started, as he opened the door. Then he saw her. "My god Buffy, what happened to you?"

For a moment she was confused, then she remembered all the marks Spike had left on her body.

"What? No. The chip works, it just turns out he can hurt you if he's not trying to hurt you." Riley looked at her with a blank expression on his face. Buffy sighed and said matter of factly, "I'm sorry about what I have to tell you Riley, but I love you and you deserve to know. I slept with Spike last night." His eyes went wide. "It's not anything I meant to happen. I wasn't looking for him or anything, I just ran into him when I was patrolling, you know to work off some anger. Anyway, somehow one thing lead to another. I thought you should know."

"What? . . How? . . " Finally he got his thoughts together. She could see he was angry, and waited for the yelling to begin. Instead he just stood there looking at her as if she'd grown a third eye in the middle of her forehead.

Eventually he spoke as if he wasn't really there, "Buffy, I don't think you're well. You should probably rest. I'm going to call Giles. That demon, it's spit. It must attract people to demons. That's why. . . You would never. . . I have to go."

Buffy sighed. That hadn't gone as well as she hoped. She and Riley still had all sorts of relationship issues to discuss. She didn't follow his rambling about demon spit. She didn't think the lava monster had been interested in sex. But there was nothing she could do about Riley right now, so she went back to thinking about Spike.

It was the conflict of his senses that woke him. He could smell her, but when he tried to reach for her she wasn't there. Still the bed smelled of her. The sheets were even still a little warm from where she had been sleeping.

Slowly he opened his eyes, shifting to his game face so that he could see more clearly in the dark lower level of the crypt. Looking around he could clearly see that she had gathered up her clothes and left.

He shifted so that his head lay where she had slept and he breathed deeply of her scent. His hands reached beneath the covers and he began to stroke himself.

He could feel it all crumbling around him. His evil scheme had turned on him. She had been so vibrant, so alive, that for the first time since the government put the chip in his head he felt alive too.

She had been amazing. Completely unskillful, but so eager, so desperate to learn the limits of her body as if it were brand new, and so delighted by every new discovery.

And what a body it was. Spike had always had an appreciation of Slayer's strength, having fought three, but he had never so directly tested it. At one point she had decided to take over, straddled him, and held down his arms, challenging him to get up. He'd used every bit of strength he had and hadn't been able to lift his arms up off the bed. It had only made him want her more, made it all the sweeter when he had held her exhausted form in his arms.

Suddenly he heard the door to his crypt swing open and a familiar thump thump as someone walked overhead. Riley.

Spike had no illusions of what might have brought Riley to see him. Somehow soldier boy had found out about him and Buffy, and Spike was sure Riley had brought a stake.

Luckily he had simply dropped his clothes at the foot of the bed when he had undressed for Buffy last night, so it was easy to scoop them all up and run for the sewers before Riley found him.

Spike might not be able to fight Riley, but he was a vampire, and was easily able to put enough distance between them for him to stop and get dressed. It was humiliating to have to run from a mere human like Riley, but Spike had no way of fighting Riley and no intention of being dusted by him.

Knowing he couldn't return to his crypt, Spike made his way to one of the lesser known demon bars, one he was sure Riley didn't know about, since he figured that Willie's was the next place Riley would look for him.

At this time of day, he was the only vampire in the establishment, which meant he drew a few looks as he sauntered in. He bought an entire bottle of whiskey. Maybe if he got drunk enough, he could forget not only that he'd ever shagged the Slayer but that she might just have been the best fuck of his life.

He settled in a booth near the back, grateful that none of the breeds of demon present hunted by smell since he was still covered in Slayer.

He'd had a couple shots, when he heard the word Slayer come from across the room. Suddenly he was alert, listening to what the two Harf-zdan demons were talking about.

"I know it's tacky to attack in broad daylight, but if we wait until tonight, every vampire in Sunnydale will be after the Slayer. If we want a chance at her we have to do this now," said the smaller of the two.

"You're sure about this? So some leech claims he saw her fighting a Charoite demon. We're talking about the Slayer. Doesn't mean the Charoite managed to infect her," the other one said.

Charoite demon, thought Spike, so that was what was up with Buffy last night. It all made perfect sense now. Not just the sex either, but why she had obviously not kept it a secret from Captain Cardboard.

Spike was up out of his seat. First he walked by the table where the two Harf-zdans were sitting as if they just happened to be on his way to somewhere. As he passed them, he grabbed the nearest one by the head and snapped it's neck before it even knew what had happened.

The other one tried to leap over the table to grab Spike, but he ducked out of the way, grabbing a half empty bottle off their table and smashing it down on the remaining demons head before it could regain it's footing. The demon went down hard. Just for good measure Spike snapped it's neck too. He was disappointed at how easily they had gone down. Maybe he shouldn't have bothered. Even in her present condition the Slayer probably could have dealt with them.

Still now he figured he had until sunset before Buffy was in any real danger. Which gave him plenty of time to find the Charoite's mate, and get some of its spit so that Red could work her magic.

"No one kills the Slayer but me," he said matter of factly, and that seemed to satisfy the other patrons. He walked up to the bartender, threw the last of his cash down on the bar and asked, "Heard anything about where a couple of Charoites might be staying?"

"It's a purple demon looks like a volcano. And what we need is an antidote to it's spit." Willow said reaching for a powdered donut.

"Is Buffy okay?" Xander asked, noticing her lying asleep on the couch while Giles, Willow, Tara, and Riley were all busy researching.

"Sadly this demon's saliva is not so innocuous. However, it would be better for all involved if we neither woke Buffy, nor discussed exactly what the poison has done to her." Giles said cleaning his glasses.

"That makes research difficult. Especially if we're looking for an antidote," Anya said.

"Trust me Xander, you're so much happier not knowing," Willow said, "And if Buffy does wake up, don't ask her. In fac-"

"Aren't you still tired, Buffy?" Willow asked hopefully, "You should probably take another nap."

"Yes, Willow's quite right. You should go upstairs, you can use my room to get some proper rest. A well rested Slayer is an effective Slayer, that's what I always say." Giles hurriedly added.

"Nah, I feel fine now. I did get a couple hours of sleep last night, plus I slept in this morning. Spike's crypt actually kind of cozy," Buffy said.

"Why were you sleep-" Willow leapt across the room to put her hand over Xander's mouth and stop him from asking his question.

"Alright, what's going on here. Willow the girl with her hand always in the air is telling me not to ask questions.?" Xander said.

Buffy sighed, "It's okay Xander, everyone's just spooked cause I slept with Spike."

"Okay, everyone knows now Buffy. I think you can stop mentioning it." Riley said from the corner.

"I so need to start listening to you Will," Xander said, as he recovered from his shock, "So this means we finally get to stake Spike right?" he began to perk up.

"Research it is then, and Ahn, the no asking questions rule goes double for you." Xander said.

They all began busily flipping through books. After about fifteen minutes the door flung open and a smoking figure covered in a blanket ran inside slamming the door shut behind him.

Riley was up in an instant, grabbing the blanket from Spike, obviously about to toss him back out into the daylight.

There were a few moments of struggle, finally Riley settled for grabbing Spike by the coat and slamming him into the wall.

"This is absurd, he doesn't know anything," Riley said, pulling Spike toward the door.

"Oh, yeah? Last night she fought a big purple hunk of rock, kind of conical. Didn't she?"

"I didn't tell him anything about it," Buffy said over her shoulder, she had barely looked up during all the commotion.

"All right, we are satisfied that you have some information. Now what do you know of any use to us Spike?" Giles asked.

"Quiet a lot, but I'm not spilling a word until soldier boy backs off AND I have your word he won't stake me," Spike said.

"After what you did? You're crazier than I thought you were. We don't need him, whatever we need, it's got to be in these books somewhere, right?" Riley said.

"Why are you all blaming Spike?" Anya asked, "Buffy was the unfaithful one. All Spike did was give her lots of orgasms."

"Please, she wouldn't have even been in the graveyard last night if lover boy here could keep her satisfied. Not to mention I didn't know about the demon until this afternoon so how was I know to know that the Slayer hadn't just decided to act out her animalistic urges."

"Get a grip Spike, the only way Buffy would ever touch you is under the influence of evil magic," Xander said.

"Be that as it may, right now we are neither researching, nor finding out what Spike knows. Much as we all desire your demise, Spike, Riley won't stake you." Giles said, trying to reassert control over the situation.

"Not good enough Watcher. Need to hear it from Captain Cardboard himself. And no tossing me in the sun either."

"Riley," Willow said softly, "I know this is awful for you, I really get this. But Buffy's life could depend on what Spike knows."

"Fine, if you actually know something useful, I won't kill you. But you better really know something."

Spike adjusted his coat and pretended to wipe dust off of it. Then he spoke, "First off, the thing Buffy fought last night was a Chaorite demon, very rare, native to Siberia." Willow and Giles each grabbed a book and started cross referencing. Spike continued, "They're stupid and slow, the only way they catch their food is by spitting on them. Powerful stuff that is. Makes a person completely unafraid of everything."

"Wait a minute," Xander interrupted, "That doesn't make any sense. It's not like Buffy's afraid of anything. And she can't have a fear of sleeping with you, because it would never even cross her mind."

"That's not true," Buffy volunteered, "I've been having dreams about sex with Spike ever since Willow's spell. Though I think this whole spit of courage thing is a bit ridiculous."

Glaring suspiciously at his girlfriend, Xander continued, "See again, with the not making sense. Why would lack-of-fear-Buffy say something like that? I think you're making this whole thing up just to keep us from staking you for last night."

"Bloody hell! Do you people even know Buffy? You think she's not scared of anything, do you? Just because she fights vampires and demons doesn't mean Buffy's not a bloody coward. She spends all her time hiding herself behind that 'I'm just a regular girl' facade afraid that if any of you found out who she really is, what it really meant to be the Slayer, you would all leave her. You want to know why she shagged me? Because she was no longer scared that Riley was her last chance at being loved. So for once in her entire life, she went out and did what she wanted, not what she thought you all expected her to do." By the time he was done Spike's eyes had begun to shimmer gold.

"It is true that most unfaithful men have no fear of being caught," Anya added trying to be helpful.

Giles broke in, "Be that as it may, Spike's right, we do have to find a cure, before Buffy is killed."

"Not directly, however it will surely result in her death if left unchecked," Giles continued, "What ever phobias Buffy may or may not have are irrelevant. I'll show you. Spike may I see your lighter?"

Giles caught it, walked over to Buffy, and lit it. "Buffy," he said, catching her attention, "Would you mind putting your hand in the flame?"

Buffy reached forward. Just as her finger was about to brush the flame, Giles pulled the lighter back and snapped it shut.

"You see," he explained, "Fear is a very healthy thing. It's what keeps us alive. It's really an ingenious poison. By repressing all of her fears, it has in effect, suppressed her survival instinct. Buffy was perfectly willing to stick her hand in the fire because she has no fear of being burned. By extension, in this state she has no fear of being hit by a car, or being bitten by a vampire, and so she won't bother to take steps to avoid them."

"Aha," cried Willow, "Chaorite demons. Found them. And there's an antidote. Oh wait," she said disappointed, "in order to make it, you need some of the Chaorite's spit, and Buffy killed the demon last night."

"Not to worry. Told you I had good info. Chaorites almost always travel with a mate, and I know where to find this one's. I just need one of you lot to come along to get the juices flowing, so to speak," Spike said.

Spike rolled his eyes, "Because you nit, Chaorites only eat living flesh, so the damn thing won't spit at me. We need living bait to act as a target."

It was hard not to laugh at the whelp. He was dressed in a bright yellow rain coat complete with hat and boots. His hands were wrapped in saran wrap because he didn't have any water resistant gloves. To protect his face he wore an old halloween mask. Spike had thought it was a skeleton but Xander had insisted it was a Skeletor. What the difference was Spike wasn't sure.

On the other hand Spike wasn't looking forward to this anymore than Xander was. First off he was in desperate need of sleep. Buffy had done a pretty good job of wearing him out and unlike her he hadn't gotten a chance to take a nap. Instead he'd been running through the sewers looking for demon lairs and convincing the Scoobies not to kill him.

The worst part was that he had no one to blame but himself. He knew full well what he was doing when he'd had sex with Buffy not that he regretted that.

What he did regret was helping her pals put her back right. He'd thought he could buy himself amnesty by helping them. Plus he couldn't quite wish Buffy dead anymore. He told himself over and over that it was just because he wanted to shag her again, but the more he thought it, the less convincing it became. . .

And once they'd entered the sewers, Riley had made it perfectly clear that the only reason he'd agreed not to kill Spike was because he was sure that Buffy would do it as soon as she was back to normal, and he'd get to watch. Spike wasn't sure Riley was wrong either, and he wouldn't be able to shag anyone if he was a pile of dust.

So here he was, trapped in the sewers with the two people who probably hated him most, Harris and Finn. Off to find a cure for the girl who was most likely going to kill him for helping her.

He did still have one card up his sleeve though it wasn't an ace. He hadn't told the Scoobies that half the vampires in town were planning on ganging up on Buffy tonight, figuring she'd be too out of it to run. No matter whether they cured the Slayer or not, there was going to be a hell of a fight tonight, and she would need him. If he didn't grab some kip, he was likely to end up dust, but at least he'd go out fighting.

"We're here. Ready Harris?" Spike said as they approached the mouth of one of the many caves underneath Sunnydale.

"No point, it's a big hunk of rock. Doesn't have eyes, ears, or even a nose. It tracks heat somehow, which is to our advantage, cause it won't even know I'm here, and I'm the one who has to kill the bloody thing. Remember to stay back here Finn, you haven't been waterproofed like the boy and I don't want you getting poisoned, cause no matter how hard you beg, I'm not letting you blow me." With that Spike gave his best cocky smile, and disappeared into the cave and out of Riley's reach.

"You and me both. Would it be breaking my promise if we just cut out his tongue?" Riley asked.

"Better be careful Finn, my tongue is Buffy's favorite part," he knew he shouldn't taunt the soldier, but he couldn't help it. Besides, he figured the damage was done. "Now get in here Harris," he called.

Spike's plan was simple, and didn't require a great amount of waiting so Spike was able to stick to it. As soon as Xander entered the cave what had seemed to be a lifeless hunk of purple rock came to life. After only a moment it had spit all over Xander and was slowly moving toward him. It's arms extended to grab what it assumed was easy prey.

But it had no idea that Spike had been standing right next to it all along. He had brought a large mace along for the occasion, and started bashing the thing in. Even if the demon couldn't sense the vampire, it knew that something was hurting it from that direction. Still it was much to slow to be able to catch Spike. He was always ten steps ahead of it. And after several minutes of bashing away at the same place on the back of the demons 'head' Spike finally managed to pierce the outer shell and hit the gooey filling. Purple blood shot out, and the demon dissolved much as it's mate had.

In the mean time Xander had taken out a tupperware container they had brought with them, and was carefully scooping the demon spit off of his rain coat and into the dish.

"Might as well, Chaorite's really aren't that much fun, they don't even scream when you kill them. A hell of a lot of effort for an unsatisfying kill if you ask me," Spike said.

"We didn't. And we don't care if you have fun or not. On second thought, we prefer that you don't." Xander said, as they turned back toward Giles' place. "How did you know so much about these demon's anyway?"

Spike rolled his eyes, "Bloody Americans. Yeah there were two, but the first one was rather brief. The second one was the fun one. Anyway, Dru and I were enjoying the mayhem, when she heard about these demons that ate people alive. So we went looking for them, she fancied one for a pet you see, anyway, we found some, but really they sound more fun then they were. Sure there's an incredible amount of blood when they bite someone in half, but I ask you, where is the fun if the victim isn't scared?"

"Yep, we got all the spit of courage you could need. And you all owe me another raincoat." Xander said. After cleaning most of the spit off the coat, Xander had abandoned it and his saran wrap gloves in the sewers, not wanting to risk being exposed to the saliva.

Willow and Tara took the tupperware and sat around Giles kitchen table where they had obviously started mixing several things together for the antidote.

"Well, got everything you need I see, I'll just be running along then," Spike said, heading towards the door.

"So Rupert's going to let me sleep on his bed, because I've had a very long day here."

"Because you ninny. Every vamp and demon in Sunnydale knows by now about the Slayer's condition. And tonight you're going to have a hell of a fight on your hands. If you want me to be of any use, you'll let me get what sleep I can before the hoards of darkness come a knocking."

"I thought it was bloody obvious, Watcher. How do you think I found out about the Slayer's condition? It's all the talk in the demon bars."

Giles looked at him a moment, then sighed and said, "Very well Spike, you might as well sleep upstairs, I need to wash the sheets anyway."

Buffy was incredibly bored. No one would let her doing anything other than watch TV, and Giles didn't even have cable. He did have a bunch of video tapes, but they were all of BBC productions of Shakespeare and something called Black Adder that, Buffy thought, also looked like it might be Shakespeare.

It had been almost two hours since Riley, Xander, and Spike had gotten back from their spit safari and Willow and Tara still hadn't made the antidote that everyone thought she needed.

It was silly really. Buffy didn't think she was any different than she used to be. She felt really good in fact. She just wished she could get breaking up with Riley over with. He refused to talk to her about what had happened with Spike until after the antidote, but she didn't she what difference that could make. She'd cheated on Riley. How could they have a relationship after that. Of course Willow and been caught kissing Xander by Oz once and they had made up. But that wasn't the same thing at all. She'd slept with Spike, and had lots of sex with him too.

Spike. . . who was upstairs. . . on a bed. Suddenly Buffy had an idea of how to relieve her boredom.

She was halfway up the stairs when Willow cried out, "We've got it! Look! Buffy we- where are you going?"

Riley was across the room in an instant. He put his hand around her waist, lifted her up into the air, and spun her around so she was now at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey," said Buffy, "It's not nice to lift people into the air like that." To emphasize her point she grabbed Riley by the shirt and lifted him into the air. It was difficult, not because Riley was too heavy for her, but because he was so much taller that it was hard for her to lift him very far off the ground. "See."

"Hey, Buffy, why not put Riley down and drink your antidote?" Willow asked, offering her the mug they had mixed it in.

"Okay," Buffy shrugged and said. She hoped drinking the antidote would get her friends to stop acting so weird around her. It was starting to get annoying.

She put Riley down, grabbed the mug, and, without even looking at the contents, downed it in one gulp.

"Oh god," she cried, falling to the floor. She quickly backed herself against the wall, and drew up her knees to protect herself. She remembered it all, what she had done with Spike. Telling Riley. Oh god, Riley, she thought. I'm going to loose Riley. He was my one shot at a real relationship and I messed it up by sleeping with a vampire that I hate.

But there was more. Her friends would never forgive her. They would be disgusted at her. She was never going to finish college, She'd be stuck without an education working at a fast food joint for the rest of her life, or worse, retail. Her mother would move away from Sunnydale and stop talking to her just like her dad. Giles would go back to England and she would never see him again.

Here fears just kept coming, hitting her one at a time. Too many to sort through, too many to deal with.

Angel would loose his soul (because of another woman) and come back to Sunnydale and begin killing everyone again. She would have to kill him again. No one else would ever make her feel the way Spike had last night. She was falling for Spike. She wouldn't be able to stop the next apocalypse and she'd have to watch everyone she loved die in front of her. She would loose to a vampire and be turned. She'd get hit by a car and be paralyzed, but wouldn't die, and there would be no Slayer to protect the world.

Riley was there next to her, trying to comfort her. She was sobbing violently now, it was all just too much. The world was too hard and scary a place. She didn't know how she could go out into it.

Suddenly Spike came leaping down the stairs, "What happened, who's attacking?" he asked.

"What? There's no attack." Xander said at the same time that Riley said, "YOU, you did this to her. You lied about the whole thing."

Riley let go of Buffy, and looked around the room for a weapon. Seeing the mace Spike had used on the demon, Riley grabbed it and headed back toward Spike.

Willow grabbed Riley's arm from behind, "It's not Spike. It's just the antidote. It's working. This, it's only temporary, I think. Buffy just needs a chance to adjust."

"Willow's right," Giles broke in, "It's as if Buffy were on a drug and now she's come down off of it. Like a pain killer that's worn off and now all the pain is back. All of her fears are back and she's no longer used to them. However, she should be fine soon. We all deal with fear all of the time. Our psyches naturally adjust to it."

"It still doesn't change what he did to her. I don't see why we shouldn't kill him. He raped Buffy!" Riley said, once again raising his weapon.

A large sob came from Buffy. "Please. . . just. . . Spike. . . just leave. Just let him leave."

"I'll just be going then," Spike said softly, grabbing his blanket. "You rest up Slayer. You know where to find me," he said as he backed out the door, not taking his eyes off of her until the door was closed.

It had been the sweet smell of fear that had woken Spike. As his eyes had opened, he'd realized that it wasn't just fear, it was the scent of Buffy's fear. Something he'd never smelt before.

He'd jumped up, sure they were under attack by some big nasty. Something horrid enough to strike terror into the Slayer.

Once he'd seen there was no threat to Buffy his first instinct had been to run to her, to cradle her, and make her better. Make her feel safe, the way he had so many times with Dru when her visions had overwhelmed her. But then the grunt was coming at him with a mace, and he'd had his own personal safety to worry about.

Still, the Slayer hadn't wanted him dead. Or at least she wanted to do it herself, and that was something. He held onto that thought as he raced away from the Watcher's door, into the waiting safety of the sewers.

He'd just closed the manhole cover over his head when he realized he was not alone. He shifted to his game face to peer around in the dark, and saw a dozen other vampire's staring back at him.

"Well, well, well boys. Look who we have here. The Slayer's lap dog, Spike. Hey, he's even got a dog's name. Hey dog, where's your collar?" the vampires all laughed at him.

A perfect bloody ending, to a perfect bloody day, thought Spike. Still things weren't quite as bad as they looked. First of all, all the vampires surrounding him were pretty young. Since the Order of Aurelius had been destroyed hardly any vampires over a hundred had ventured into Sunnydale.

Secondly, he was carrying a stake in the inner pocket of his coat. None of them seemed to be armed. And third, while they were all busy laughing at him, he'd grabbed the stake and driven it into the heart of the loud mouth who'd been taunting him.

The other vampires were momentarily stunned. It was a breach of vampire etiquette to attack during the initial taunting phase. They had been waiting for his come back. But Spike figured since he'd shagged a Slayer less than twenty-four hours ago, he was now so far on the fringe of vampire society that it didn't even matter any more.

He actually managed to stake a second vampire before they came to their senses. After that though, they all piled on him and he was fighting for his life. Luckily, they were not used to fighting together as a group, and his attackers got in each other's way. As he'd guessed, he was the only one armed, and none of them had managed to disarm him yet. That meant that although they could hurt him, they had nothing to kill him with.

He got another break a few minutes in, when one of the combatants sniffed him and said, "Did you fuck the Slayer?!" That outburst again startled his combatants and Spike managed to stake two more during their shock. That left five of them. Spike was bruised, battered, and broken. His ribs were cracked in several places. Since he didn't need to breathe they only hurt when he moved, but there was no way he could fight without great pain.

He backed up for a moment and looked over the remaining combatants. They viewed him warily. "Well, come on then. Aren't you lot the Big Bads around here? There's five of you, one of me. What? Not one of you's got the balls to take me on."

They'd already lost half their number to the older vampire. And even if his face was bruised, he didn't act like he was in much pain. The remaining vampire's decided that the odds were not as much in their favor as they had thought. They might hate Spike, but since he wasn't alive, they weren't driven by a compulsion to drain his blood. So they ran.

"That's right mates," he called after them, "I'm still the Big Bad, top vampire in this town. Don't you forget it." Despite his bravado, once he was sure the vampire's were out of earshot, he sank down against the wall of the sewer and indulged himself in some painful groaning. He hurt everywhere.

After a few moments he began to slink off to his crypt. He should have been thrilled after such a battle even if he was badly hurt. All he could think about though was that the Slayer had several such battles ahead of her the next couple of nights until she could show Sunnydale's underground population that she was back to normal.

Fuck, he thought. I probably just saved her life driving those wankers away. He had no doubt they had been waiting around that particular manhole cover, waiting for darkness so they could ambush the Scoobies at Giles' flat. Would he get any credit for it? No, they would never even know. Not that he wanted their gratitude. Well, maybe Buffy's, that is if her gratitude involved her tongue.

He made it back to his crypt. It hurt to climb the ladder to the upper level. When he did, he found that Riley had knocked over most of his stuff and broken his television. Luckily the refrigerator was still fine, so Spike had fresh, if cold blood. He greedily tore into several blood bags, letting the viscous fluid start it's healing work on his body.

He made his way back down to his bedroom. He was too sore to remove his clothes, so he simply wriggled out of his coat. Then he lay on the bed, which still smelled of Buffy, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Buffy leaned heavily against the side of the mausoleum. That had been her second big fight tonight. Spike hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said that the vampire population all knew about her recent condition and wanted to take advantage of it. That's why she'd been sure to allow a couple of the vampire's to escape from each battle. Hopefully the word would get out that she was up to full Slayer setting.

She wasn't sure she really was. She almost wished she'd agreed to let Riley come along with her. But she knew that if she was going to get jumped by a large group of vampires, the last thing she needed is to be worrying about was Riley.

Especially since all she seemed capable of doing was worrying. The overwhelming fear had gradually faded into a dull worry. Still, she now recognized that worry for what it was. That was why she had to go out tonight. Riley had begged her to take the night off, but she couldn't do that. If she hid inside once, she knew she'd be hiding the rest of her life.

She wished she could have done that one thing for Riley, stayed in. He was being so good to her. He'd taken care of her and comforted her through her breakdown. He wasn't going to leave her either. He'd said he understood that she wasn't in her right mind, that she had fallen under the influence of bad magics, and that she hadn't meant any of the things she'd said or done.

She wasn't sure about that. She was afraid that in some way, everything she'd done had been the real Buffy. But right now she wasn't in a position to rationally judge her fears. Also, she wasn't so dumb as to miss an out when it was offered her. If Riley was willing to make all the excuses for her, she wasn't going to argue.

No, Riley had had accepted her apologies and made it clear they were going to be alright. There was just one thing she had to do before they could put this all behind them.

She couldn't bring herself to do that. It didn't help that his face was all bloody and he looked like he'd been in a hell of a fight. It seemed wrong after everything to kill him in his sleep. He at least deserved to know who killed him.

When did I start thinking of it as killing, Buffy wondered. He's a vampire, he's already dead. I staked a dozen of his buddies already tonight, not to mention the hundreds I've staked the last four years. It's not killing, it's slaying.

Having settled the issue with herself, she decided it was time to take drastic measures. She grabbed one of the candles from next to the bed and threw it at him.

He jerked away with a start, then he groaned in pain, clutching his sides. For a moment golden eyes starred up at her, then he shook off his vampire face, and leaned back on the bed carefully.

"I was trying to wake you up. I've been yelling at you forever. Can you sleep through anything?"

"I've had a long day Slayer, saving your ass I might add, so if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to sleep."

For a moment Buffy felt bad, he really did look awful. But then she reminded herself why she was here.

Spike laughed. "Aren't you just the femme fatal. Figures, after all you did in Angel after you slept with him. Got a regular black widow thing going don't you Slayer?"

"What?" Buffy was horrified, "You're nothing like Angel. This is so totally different. You. . . You raped me."

"Well, I won't argue about being nothing like Angel. In fact that's the best complement I've had in a while, not counting the things you said to me last night. But please, rape, Slayer? I didn't do anything to you that you didn't ask me to."

That stumped Buffy for a moment, then she smiled triumphantly, "I never asked you to go down on me."

"Yes, that's how I go about raping women, I give them mind blowing orgasms. Do you even know what the word rape means?"

"It doesn't matter if I enjoyed it, which I DID NOT," she added as she saw him start to smile, "I was under the influence of powerful mojo and you took advantage of me."

"That's not what I meant. My point is that I wasn't responsible for your state. I didn't even know about it until I had to flee from my place of residence thanks to your boyfriend. Did you see the upstairs. You tell Captain Cardboard he owes me a new tele."

"Oh please. He's not buying a TV for a pile of dust," Buffy raised the stake. She needed to end this before he confused her even more.

He regained his composure, "You say I raped you right? So that makes me the rapist, and you the victim. Cause you know, if I'm going to go, at least I can go knowing that I made Buffy Summers my victim."

"Then I didn't rape you. You can't have it both ways. Do you feel like a victim Slayer?"

"That's right. Because you weren't. Trust me, Slayer, if I'd raped you, there wouldn't be a doubt in your mind. You'd know." Buffy was starting to be unsure. "But rape's not your word is it. It's Finn's. I heard him say it before. That's just what he wants you to believe. He wants you to be the victim, not me Slayer."

"That's ridiculous." She hated it when Spike did this. She knew he was just being evil. It was like when he'd almost destroyed her friendships with Willow, Xander, and Giles. Spike was an expert in turning half truths into weapons.

Spike had gotten off the bed, he stood to one side of her speaking softly in her ear, "Is it Slayer? The real question here is, who was in my bed last night? No one had taken over your body had they? You were making decisions weren't you? Maybe not the same ones you'd normal make, but if you'd run into Giles last night, would you have tried to shag him?"

Buffy's head was spinning. The things Spike said actually made some sense. Well not the icky image of her and Giles. Where did Spike get this stuff?

He was moving about her, circling her. " I didn't proposition you, you came on to me. Who made the decisions last night? Who was in charge? Your boyfriend says you were raped, says you were the victim. And I bet he's noble enough not to hold it against you. I bet you said that you were sorry, and he accepted your apology. That was awfully big of him wasn't it. Tell me Buffy, if I raped you, what do you have to apologize for?"

That was it, she couldn't take it any more. Her emotions were still too mixed up. She started to cry. Why couldn't everything be simple again. She knew that her friends had helped her by giving her the antidote, they had saved her life. And yet life had been so easy this afternoon. Not confusing like it was now.

"I'm sorry luv, I didn't mean. Shh, I'm sorry." She felt Spike's arms curl around her and pull her tight against his chest. She wanted to pull away, to get away from him, he was the one doing this to her. Confusing her.

All she could do though was gasp between sobs, "Go away, please why won't you just go away?"

But he didn't leave, he didn't let go. She knew she could break his hold, there was nothing he could do to stop her. And yet she couldn't find the will to do so, even if she hated him for what he had said.

He lifted her up off the floor. She could actually hear his ribs cracking as he did so. Then he lay her gently down on the bed, whispering comforting words to her the whole time. He let go of her and pulled the covers up around her.

"Sleep now pet, and forget all about the stupid things vampires say. None of it means anything. I'll just be over here."

"No," she said, catching his hand as he pulled away. She offered no explanation. She just pulled him down onto the bed with her, and wrapped herself back up in his arms. She didn't know why she did it herself, except that for the first time since Willow's antidote she felt safe.

To his amazement Buffy fell asleep in his arms. It was terrifying to hold her like that. To be allowed to comfort her. To want to comfort her.

He looked at her sleeping form and thought how strong and serene she was. So silent, strong and serene.

Fuck. Alliteration. That could only lead to pentameter, which would inevitably turn into quatrains. He had to face the ugly truth. It was nothing he'd looked for, nothing he wanted, nothing he understood, but he was falling in love with the Slayer.

However, strange as it seemed, she felt calm. Like herself again, or as much like herself as she could ever be. A good nights sleep had worked wonders on her emotions. If she had dreamed, she didn't know what those dreams had been, but her subconscious seemed to have busily been tidying itself up.

Not that she had any idea what was going on. She was trying hard not to think about it. She had more important things to think about than Spike. Like Riley, whose truck was parked outside of her house. Crap thought Buffy. Oh well, have to do this sooner or later.

"A couple big fights, nothing I couldn't handle. I did let some of them get away though. Spread the word, you know. The Slayer's back to full strength."

"How are you feeling Buffy?" her mom asked, "Riley told me about the demon poison."

"I was still a little out of it last night, but a good nights sleep. . ." Crap thought Buffy. So much for regaining control over my mouth.

Here it comes, thought Buffy. This isn't going to be pretty. "Um Mom, could Riley and I. . ?"

"I've got some errands to run, I'll be back later," her mom said as she made a hasty exit.

"I was at Spike's. But nothing happened," she added hurriedly, "It was just sleep."

"So you were tired after fighting and staking Spike, so you just slept there?" Riley asked. From his tone of voice it didn't sound like he really believed it.

"I didn't stake Spike. But the worn out from the fighting part is correct," she added hopefully.

"He didn't do anything to me Riley. At least nothing, and believe me I hate to say this, nothing I didn't ask for. I wasn't in my right mind, okay, granted. But, it WAS me. I can't blame Spike for what I did. The Charcoal Demon maybe, but not Spike. It's creepy, it's icky, and I wish it wasn't true, but that was me yesterday. Not all of me maybe, but still me."

"There is no me and Spike. It happened, okay. But it didn't mean anything. Hello? This is Spike we're talking about. He hates me as much as I hate him. It was a one time thing. And it hurt you I know. You have every right to be mad at me. It's just. . . Riley, I can't. . . right now I don't know what our relationship is. I need time to think, and if that means. . . if that's not good enough for you I understand."

"I don't want to. I want to make it work, I just can't be relationship Buffy right now."

"That's just great. Do you know what I gave up for you? My job, my career, everything I believed in."

"I thought you gave up the Initiative because it was the right thing to do. If you did it for me. . ."

"The right thing? Not everyone believes the government is evil. Do you know how lucky you are. All the stuff you take for granted because soldiers-"

"This isn't about patriotism. And what about the stuff you take for granted? Hello, world not sucked into hell because I killed my last boyfriend. And did anyone ever thank me? So you gave up a job you liked for me? I never asked you to do it for us, I never even asked, but if I had it would have been because what the Initiative was doing was wrong. If you did it for me, then go back. Because you're not cut out for this life."

"I'm not cut out for it? You're the one sleeping with the enemy. And I don't just mean Spike. I could overlook Angel. I don't know how much I buy into this whole soul crap, but I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But now you tell me that sex with vampires is just a thing you have?"

"It's not a thing. Look, Spike was a big huge aberration. I'm not sure why it happened, but I can't just start blaming my actions on others. I'm the Slayer, I have to be responsible."

"The Slayer. It's amazing. You use that as an excuse for everything. Like you can do whatever you want because of some mystical. . . what? I don't even know what you call it."

"I'm trying to take responsibility for what I did here Riley. But for some reason that doesn't work for you. I think maybe you should just go."

Chapter 11
Carefully and quietly, Spike climbed the tree outside Buffy's room. It had been two weeks since she had slept in his crypt. The next day-to his delight-she had given Captain Cardboard the boot. Unfortunately she'd made it quite clear that that didn't mean she and Spike would be sleeping together again.

When he'd tried to talk to her about it, she'd laughed at him, and told him that, 'It was just sex,' and it would be better if they both just put it behind them. When he wouldn't let it go, she'd hit him. After a couple such encounters he'd realized that either he had to make a complete fool of himself and confess his love, or he'd have to leave her alone.

He'd chosen option number three, stalking. Over the last week he had started following her on her patrols. Watching her wherever she went. It wasn't hard - she was as regular as clockwork. Always patrolling the same areas at the same time. The sad thing was, he seemed to be the only vamp in Sunnydale who'd picked up on this.

Tonight it hadn't been vamps, though. Tonight she'd had a nasty fight with an Aabi demon. He'd been tempted to step in and give her a hand, but she'd managed the whole thing by herself - even if she did get herself covered in light blue blood when she cut off its tentacles.

That's why she'd called an early night. She was taking a shower to clean off the demon goo. It also gave Spike the chance he needed to hide himself in the tree outside her window. He'd found a spot to hide where he had a great view of the mirror on her vanity, but she wouldn't be likely to see him. Times like this having no reflection was very handy.

After half an hour or so she came back into her bedroom. She was wearing a fluffy bathrobe and was taking her hair down. He watched mesmerized as she shook out her long golden locks.

She walked over to her vanity and picked up a squat glass jar, opened it, and scooped out some blue cream. Then she turned the vanity chair around sideways, put her right foot up on it, and began slowly rubbing it into her skin. For a moment Spike nearly laughed. The cream was almost exactly the same color as the blood she'd just washed off. But then her hands started working up her leg.

He licked his lips as he watched her fingers massage the cream into her calves. Carefully, quietly, he reached down to unzip his jeans and grip his cock firmly in his hand. He wondered what sort of scent she was rubbing into herself. He imagined himself slowly kissing and nipping his way up those well-muscled legs until he came to her sex. He tried to remember the heady scent of her arousal and the way her pink lips opened up to the probing of his tongue.

Buffy's hands moved up her leg, past her knee, to her thigh. Then she moved aside her bathrobe and in the mirror he could see her hand run over the smooth flesh of her bottom as she continued to rub the cream in. He had to force himself to keep his hand moving at a slow steady pace as he stroked himself, so as not to cum before he finished watching his private show.

She switched legs then. This time when she moved aside the bathrobe he could see not only her ass, but in the mirror he could see just the faintest hint of the dark curls between her legs. That tiny tease almost sent him over the edge. He bit his lip to keep from moaning, his right hand tightened its grip on his cock, and his left hand dug into the bark of the tree.

Having finished with her legs, she turned the chair back around the proper way and sat at the vanity. Then she slipped her left arm out of the bathrobe. To Spike's disappointment, the fabric clung to the curve of her breast only barely revealing her cleavage.

She began to rub the cream onto her shoulders and chest. Then to Spike's delight her hands went lower and she cupped her breast. The robe still obstructed most of his view, but that was okay. It was enough for Spike to know her hands were caressing herself, to imagine that it was his thumb making circles around her nipple.

His own movements became more frantic. His tongue ran over his lips, licking up the drops of blood from where he'd bitten himself. In his mind the tip of his tongue was tracing her nipple. He could hear her moans as he sucked it into his mouth - her cries when he gently bit the tender flesh.

He came suddenly. He'd forgotten where he was - what he was doing - and he nearly lost his position. Cursing under his breath, he regained his footing. Not only would it have been embarrassing to fall out of the tree, there was no telling what Buffy would do to him if she caught him watching her like this.

He was especially glad that he hadn't given himself away when he looked back into her room. She had finished with her moisturizing and stood up. She moved over to her dresser and let the bathrobe fall to the floor. There she stood in all her glory. It was only a glimpse. A second later she had slipped on a nightgown.

It was really more of a slip. It was light grey, silky and clung to all her curves in a way that screamed, "Touch me." Just as he was enjoying the way it flared about her hips and the skirt brushed the skin on her thighs, she turned out the lights and got into bed.

Instinctively, he vamped. His golden eyes could make out her still form lying under the covers. For a while he just watched her, wanting desperately to go inside, lie on top of her, and pepper her with kisses - run his hands over her silken curves. But he knew she would never allow it. Finally he gave up, got down from the tree, and went off to find something to kill.

'Stupid vampire,' Buffy thought. 'What took him so long to leave? If he'd loitered around outside my window much longer, I'd've had to tell him to leave.'

It wasn't true of course. There was no way she was going to let Spike know how easily she could sense him, that she knew he'd been watching her this last week. 'It's all about tactics,' she told herself. 'Being able to sense exactly where he is, it's like a secret weapon.'

He could have been in a room full of vampires and Buffy was pretty sure she could have told you exactly where he was. He just felt different from the other vampires. 'Which is only because he's around so much,' she told herself. 'It has nothing to do with anything else, just like I was gonna wear my sexy nighty all along. I never even considered wearing my Yummy Sushi pajamas. Nope, not for a minute. Besides, he was watching me undress, this was much faster to put on.'

Now that she was sure Spike was gone, she allowed her legs to fall apart just a little as her hand reached between them and she started to caress herself.

Chapter 12
A/N A big thanks to all my betas for keeping me from embarrassing mistakes, and for helping me figure out what path the story needed to take.

Willow and Tara walked hand in hand down the streets of Sunnydale on their way to Buffy's house. Ever since her encounter with the purple demon, and her break up with Riley, Buffy had been all work and no play. She'd gone patrolling every single night. The two witches had agreed that what their friend needed was some serious Bronze time.

They stopped across the street from Revello Drive, seeing the headlights of a car coming. There were enough perils in Sunnydale without getting hit by a car, so the couple waited patiently to make sure the car had come to a stop.

When it stopped, they proceeded in front of it, not really paying any attention, until the driver of the convertible called out, "Willow?"

Willow stopped, trying to see past the headlights. She squinted and said in amazement, "Angel?"

Tara couldn't really see the man either, but she could see his aura blazing bright. The outside of it shone bright silver, but there was an inner ring that was the strange sickly yellow that Tara had learned meant vampire.

"Hey, what are you doing here? Does Buffy know you're here? Oh, have you met Tara?" Willow blurted out all at once.

A couple of things clicked into place in Tara's mind. Veiled references to a bad romance in Buffy's past started to make sense.

"Oh," Willow said with sudden understanding. "Tara's a witch, she's really good at sensing auras. I guess a vampire with a soul would have a pretty unique aura. So anyway, what's going on?"

"You're going to Buffy's, right?" Angel asked. The two girls nodded. "I know it's only another block, but why don't you get in and I'll tell you."

They all got into the front seat of Angel's car. Tara was a little nervous, not because Angel was a vampire - she could see his soul and was sure he wouldn't hurt them - but because she was afraid that he would be able to sense the demon hidden in her.

"There have been rumors all the way to L.A. about. . . I think maybe Spike's planning something," Angel told them as he started up the car.

Tara caught his slight pause, and knew he wasn't telling the whole truth. 'Rumors? What could those be?' Tara wondered. Her home town had been full of gossipers. Although she doubted demons spent much time discussing who was cheating on. . . unless of course they did. Tara's experience with demon's showed them to be much like normal people. She knew that Spike had something of a reputation, maybe a lot of demons did gossip about who he had slept with.

"I don't think you have to worry, Angel," Willow said. "The government put a chip in Spike's head. He's pretty fangless these days. I don't think he could really hurt Buffy."

"Maybe not directly. But he could still-" Angel stopped in mid sentence. Suddenly his eyes were golden and his vampiric nature was plain to see.

He leapt from the car. His feet had barely touched the ground when he sprang up onto the tree that stood in front of the Summers' house. A moment later he came crashing down, but he wasn't alone. Another dark figure fell from the tree with him. They hit the ground together, both letting out a loud, "Oofff!"

Tara recognized the second figure instantly by his aura. Spike. Although his aura had the same sickly yellow color as that of other vampires, his aura was punctuated by a whole other set of colors that would appear and disappear like sea serpents among the waves. Whenever she could, Tara would study his aura trying to decipher it. But it always made her nervous when the vampire caught her watching him.

The two black forms struggled against each other on the ground. Suddenly there was a high pitched shriek. Angel was on his feet. The whole thing had happened almost too fast for Willow and Tara to see. They were still in Angel's car as Willow struggled with the handle of the door.

Abruptly the upstairs window was flung open and Buffy came hurtling out of it. As her bare feet hit the grass, Tara tried not to notice Buffy's black lace thong which was revealed as the skirt of her skimpy black dress flew up.

Buff landed in a fighter's stance, her stake raised and ready. "Angel?" she said mystified. "What are you doing here?" Then she saw Spike curled up on the ground in a little ball, moaning. "Spike? What did you do to him?" she asked Angel accusingly.

She dropped the stake, and knelt by the bleached vampire, tenderly running her fingers across his face. Concern was evident on her face.

Reluctantly Angel picked up Spike's legs, while Buffy lifted him under the arms. Willow opened the front door of the house, and they placed Spike on the couch.

The way Spike was gripping his groin made the nature of his injury obvious. Tara ran into the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out an ice pack. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and offered them to Spike. He smiled weekly at her, and took them with one hand. As his hand moved away to grab the ice pack, Tara thought she saw a flash of flesh. She looked away blushing.

It was times like this when she thought Willow's life and friends were just a tad too. . . exciting. She was just glad that Willow hadn't seen. Not that she didn't trust her girlfriend.

Buffy had arranged the vampire on the couch so that his head was lying in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. For the hundredth time Tara wondered what it would take for the two of them to realize they were meant for each other. It was obvious to Tara by the way their aura's interacted, blending together. She had thought the encounter with the Charoite demon would do it. But they seemed to be further apart than before.

Once Buffy was satisfied that the mewling vampire had been made comfortable, she looked up at Angel and asked, "Okay, so what's the deal? Why are you in town?"

"Spike's up to something. There have been rumor's in L.A. about. . . " as Angel struggled for words Buffy's eyes grew wide.

She lightly thumped Spike on the side of the head. "You've been bragging about the. . . demon. . . thing?"

"What?" Spike muttered weakly. "No. . . vampires. After I left Giles'. . . jumped me. . . remember? One of them smelled you. . . got away."

"Uh, Buffy, you couldn't have. I mean, this must be something else. What I heard. . . was that you had slept with Spike," Angel managed to say finally.

"It's not Buffy's fault," Willow broke in, "There was this demon. It interfered with her, um. . . she wasn't herself."

"You slept with Spike!" Angel blurted out all at once. His anger and disapproval were evident in his voice.

Buffy's eyes flashed. Any anger that she might have had toward Spike was instantly transferred to Angel.

"So what if I did? It's none of your business. And why did you have to show up in town? They have phones in L.A. I know, I used to live there."

"Riley and I broke up." Angel was obviously going to interrupt so Buffy cut him off, "It's none of your business. None of this is any of your business."

Tara and Willow exchanged looks. They were both uncomfortable being within hearing distance of this conversation, but Willow obviously felt the need to stick around to lend her friend support if she needed it.

"Yeah, we've established that. Look, not my finest hour I admit, but still not your business."

"You think I don't know when I'm being stalked?" Buffy stopped and blushed. From the expression on her face it was clear that hadn't come out the way she wanted it too. "I mean. . . I can take care of myself."

"Hi I'm- Angel what are you- Spike. Oh dear, what happened?" The older Summers rushed into the living room and knelt by the couch. Joyce put her hand on Spike's forehead as if she were checking for a fever.

"No buts. Spike is a friend of mine and I won't tolerate anyone who hurts my friends in my house. Now out."

Joyce glared at the vampire. Angel looked like he wanted to say something else, but he wilted under the stern gaze of Buffy's mom. Hanging his head he shuffled his feet out of the Summers' home.

Not that the whimpering was all faked. He'd suffered unspeakable tortures in his time- mostly at the hands of Angelus. But Angel's knee to the groin was almost more than he could take, especially considering it had been backed by a good dose of vampire strength.

Still, lying with his head in Buffy's scantily clad lap almost made up for it. It had taken everything he'd had in him not to smirk at Angel when Buffy let it slip that she'd known that he'd been watching her. He might have doubted her meaning if he hadn't been able to smell the fading aroma of her earlier arousal.

So, she got off on being watched, did she? Well, Spike was more than happy to oblige her on that front, although it might be more difficult, now that her pals knew about his continued interest in her.

Even that was nothing compared to Buffy defending him against Angel, even if he knew she did it more out of stubbornness than any conscious desire to defend him. Buffy hated nothing more than others trying to tell her how to live her life, which was ironic, since she spent most of her time seeking the approval of those around her. The poof should have remembered that before he came by and tried to meddle in her life.

Finally, there was his personal angel, Joyce. Watching her drive the older vampire out of her home had been fantastic. Now she was busy in the kitchen making him hot chocolate. With marshmallows.

Of course, Joyce presented a bit of a problem. When Angel had tackled him out of the tree, Spike had been in the middle of jerking himself off, and he hadn't had a chance to zip himself back up. Glinda had helpfully provided him with the ice and the towel, which not only soothed his swelling balls, but also helped cover himself up. It's not that he was modest, it was that he had no desire to offend Joyce, not after all the things she'd done for him.

In the mean time, he enjoyed listening to Buffy quietly rant to herself about Angel while she ran her fingers through his hair. It was all he could do not to nestle his face between her legs and start kissing her thighs.

Joyce returned with a tray laden with hot chocolate, which she set down on the coffee table. Buffy helped pull him up into more of a sitting position. He whimpered, both from the pain of overly sensitive balls rubbing against the denim of his jeans, and from the loss of contact with the silk of Buffy's skirt. The warmth of her soft skin.

Still, she kept her arms around him and he rested his head in the crook of her arm, so that his cheek was just barely brushing her left breast. Joyce handed Buffy the mug of cocoa meant for Spike, and then she lifted up his feet and placed them in her lap. Joyce began to unlace his boots.

"Just this once I'll forgive you for getting mud on my sofa. But don't do it again, Spike." Joyce teased him.

"Yes, mum," he said obediently. He kicked himself for being so inconsiderate in her house, before he remembered that he was evil and that he was supposed to be gleeful about doing things like muddying up the upholstery.

Buffy held the mug in front of him, and he blew on the hot steam rising off the chocolate. He was careful to blow it directly across her right nipple. Her body stiffened under him, and his nose was greeted to the renewed smell of her arousal.

She gave him a look that clearly indicated that she didn't buy the innocent act for a minute. He took the cocoa from her with his free hand, and for a few minutes they all sat there happily sipping the hot chocolate.

Joyce broke the silence, "You'll have to stay here tonight, Spike. We certainly can't expect you to walk home. You can sleep in Buffy's room and she'll sleep on the couch."

"No buts. Why don't you take the cups into the kitchen, and I'll get the guest sheets and pillows and bring them down."

Grumbling, Buffy violently grabbed Spike's mug, and put it and the others on the tray. Spike took advantage of the temporary departure of the women to zip himself back up. It was not a pleasant experience, at that moment he would have given just about anything for a pair of soft cotton boxers.

Buffy returned from the kitchen first. She came in smiling, and gave Spike a triumphant grin. Inwardly he cursed. He hoped she hadn't found a way to get out of sleeping on the couch. He was looking forward to sleeping in the Slayer's bed.

"Mom, don't you think it might be hard for Spike to walk up the stairs? Wouldn't it be easier for him to sleep downstairs?"

"I already thought of that dear," Joyce said. "But there's the big window and I'm not sure the curtains are thick enough. We wouldn't want him catching fire in the morning. Besides, you're strong. You can carry him, can't you?"

Spike wanted to laugh at the look for frustration that crossed the Slayer's face.

Glaring, Buffy roughly yanked Spike to his feet. The groan that escaped his lips wasn't all faked. Her rough handling of him caused everything to rub together in a painful way.

He put his arm around her shoulder and leaned dramatically on her. She rolled her eyes, but she put her arm around his waist.

As soon as they started up the stairs, he bit his lips to keep from crying out. The denim scraped painfully against his swollen bits. Half way up the stairs he had to stop, his stomach was churning. He rested against the wall.

He smiled weakly. "S'okay, pet. Just waiting for the vampire healing to kick in."

He took another moment and she helped him up the rest of the way and into her room. Gingerly he lay down on the bed while Buffy turned to get some of her things.

"It's just too much trouble to stake you, that's all," she said over her shoulder.

"Please." Buffy turned to stand by the bed. "Get over yourself. Nothing about yo-"

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her over him onto the other side of the bed. Before she had time to react, one of his hands had moved up her skirt. His fingers had barely brushed her lace thong, when she let out a little gasp and reflexively her legs began to part for him.

She had placed her hands on his chest to push him away, but instead she ran them up to his shoulders and gripped them hard as his fingers found her nub. Her eyes were wide and she looked angry, but he could smell her arousal and feel her body push back at him.

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw as if she was trying very hard to convince herself that she was not enjoying this. He couldn't help but smile. Cocky bint that she was, why couldn't she just accept the attraction between them. They could have spent this last week shagging like crazy, instead of on opposite sides of her window.

"Spike do you need. . ." Joyce's voice came from just outside the partially open door.

The two of them quickly broke apart, but it was apparent from Joyce's face that she had seen enough.

". . . anything else. Buffy, I've made up the couch for you, why don't you go downstairs?"

Buffy leapt off the bed, gathered up the pajamas she'd pulled out earlier, and started to leave. Just as she got to the door, she paused, and ran back to her vanity, pulled a small journal out of the top drawer, gave Spike an angry look, and ran downstairs.

"I'm, uh, fine, mum. . . Sorry?" he stammered. He felt sheepish, like he'd abused her hospitality.

"Goodnight, Spike," was all she said, although there was a hint of anger? annoyance? maybe even amusement in her voice. Spike wasn't sure.

"Buffy," her mother said, less angry than Buffy would have imagined. "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to. . . I didn't know you and Spike were dating."

"And I didn't see you doing anything to stop him. Buffy, if you're not interested in Spike that's fine, that's your decision. But you can't lead him on like that, it's cruel. Obviously he got the idea that you might be willing somewhere."

"No, mom, see you don't understand. Remember that demon a few weeks ago? Just before Riley and me broke up? See, I wasn't afraid of stuff, so I kinda of . . . sleptwithSpike. But it doesn't count, cause of the demon fluids and stuff."

"Buffy, did you explain this all to Spike? He's so sensitive, there's no telling how he's talking all this."

"Sensitive?" What was her mom talking about, Spike was the biggest jerk in the world. "Okay, look, mom, Spike knows all about the demon, he's the one who figured out about the antidote."

"The one that Willow made?" Buffy nodded. "I thought that antidote saved your life." Her mother paused and looked her over. "Look, Buffy, would you threaten to beat someone up to do your homework for you?"

Buffy was stunned. She had no idea what had triggered the sudden conversation switch. Not that she wasn't glad for it. Discussing her non-relationship with Spike was hardly a fun time, especially with her mom. Still, she was kind of hurt that her mother would even think she could be that kind of bully.

"No, of course not, mom. That would be abusing my power. Just cause I'm the Slayer doesn't mean I'm somehow better than other people," except when it comes to fighting the forces of evil, she added to herself. The memory of the Initiative's mistakes were still fresh in her mind.

"Exactly. But Buffy, you're more than just the Slayer. You're also a very beautiful young woman." Before Buffy could interrupt her Joyce continued, "And I'm not just saying that because I'm you're mom. Buffy, that gives you power, too. You don't have any more right to bully Spike with your looks than you have the right to bully anyone else with your strength."

"Bully? Mom, I'm so not bullying him. I mean, it's not like I'm forcing him to stalk me." Buffy couldn't understand how she had become the bad guy.

"Buffy. I really thought you knew better than this. How would you feel if you slept with someone and then they wouldn't talk to you?"

Buffy winced. She'd never told her mother about Parker, but she still remembered how much that had hurt. It still kinda did, even though she was completely over him. It almost made her feel bad about Spike. Except, hello, Spike. Still, the more she thought about it, the worse she felt.

"So what am I supposed to do, mom? I mean, you keep missing out on the big point here. It's Spike. He hates me. It's just some weird demon obsession of his. It's not like he's in love with me."

"What? No. You can't just ask a guy that, and Spike's not even a guy. He's a vampire. It's not like he can be in love."

"Don't be ridiculous Buffy. He was in love with that. . . Drusilla woman for something like a century. I saw him when they had broken up. If that wasn't being in love, I don't know what is. And let me remind you that I have a little more experience with this kind of thing than you."

Buffy was stumped. She knew there was a way to show her mother she was wrong. She just couldn't think of it. She certainly couldn't see any reason why someone would hang around Drusilla for a hundred years if they weren't in love with her. Of course, Spike was a vampire, so there was no accounting for taste.

Spike couldn't be in love with her, he couldn't be in love with anyone. But if he was. . .

No, she wasn't going to go there. She wasn't going to think about what it would be like to have a guy that you knew wouldn't leave you. A guy who didn't care that she was stronger than him, or that she spent too much time in graveyards. A guy with a definite oral fixation, and fingers that. . .

No, she really wasn't going to think about any of that. There was no point. Spike hated her. He always had, he always would.

"Buffy, talk to him in the morning. That's all I ask. If you don't want to have anything further to do with him, that's fine. It's not my place to point out how wonderful a couple you two could make. Just make sure he knows how you feel. You'll both be better off for it. Now goodnight, and sleep well."

Her mother leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead before heading back upstairs.

Buffy's head was spinning. She'd expected her mom to be mad about her having sex with Spike because he was another vampire. She'd hated Angel. She hadn't been prepared for her mom to want her to date Spike. It was just too creepy.

Giles poured himself a glass of scotch and sat down at his desk. There was no looming threat which mean he had time to goof off and get back to a particularly difficult passage in the Dead Sea Scrolls he'd been puzzling over for some time.

"Oh bugger," he said under his breath, even though there was no one in the room to hear him.

There were only a few people who ever knocked on his door, especially at this time of night. No doubt the world was ending, again.

He opened the door to find Angel standing there with Willow and Tara. On the one hand he was almost delighted to have someone who was older than twenty knock on his door. On the other, Angel would only be here if there were some dire threat.

Giles was particularly worried now. Although he had not revoked the invitation he'd given the vampire at Thanksgiving, usually Angel was polite enough to ask. Especially considering that Angelus had murdered his lover, Jenny, and tortured him. A fact he was not soon going to forget.

"Indeed? What seems to be the threat? And oh yes, do come in," Giles said pointedly.

"It's Spike, he's planning something. He's been stalking Buffy, obviously looking for a weakness to exploit," Angel explained.

"I d-don't think-" Tara started, but Angel turned on her, and she closed her mouth.

"Yes Tara? What is it you think?" Giles prompted kindly. Although he didn't know the young witch that Willow had taken up with very well, he had found her rather astute. Not to mention that Angel was already starting to irritate him. Try as he might, and he hadn't tried all that hard, Giles could never really forgive Angel for the monster that lurked within.

"I think," she paused, took a deep breath and then said all at once, "I think Spike's just in love with Buffy. I don't think he wants to hurt her."

Giles was amazed at the utterance, both for its content and its length. It was surely the most words he'd ever heard Tara put together.

"That fact hardly seems relevant. After all so are you, and you loved Buffy," countered Giles.

The wheels in his head were turning. Having been forced to live with him for some time, Giles felt he had a good insight to Spike's character. Despite his tough exterior Giles had realized that Spike was a romantic, as his running commentaries on Passions had proved.

At first Buffy might not have seemed to be Spike's type. Certainly not after his century long romance with the bedlamite Drusilla. But then again, Giles couldn't help but remember what he had said to Angel on their first meeting: 'A vampire in love with a Slayer, it's rather romantic, in a maudlin sort of way.'

Maudlin was indeed the perfect way to describe the blond vampire. Not that Giles believed Spike was really in love with Buffy, he was probably just in love with the idea of being in love with the Slayer. Still, he could see how Tara could mistake the two things.

"I LOVE her, but only because I have a soul. Are we forgetting that Spike doesn't have one? That he's evil?"

The two men were now standing very close to each other. All the old tensions once again alive between them.

"Okay, I think it's time we all take a step back," said Willow as she stood between the two of them.

For a moment Giles hesitated, after all it was his flat. But then he decided that he wouldn't be drawn into this childish display by Angel.

He relented. "Do you have any direct proof, Angel, that Spike is trying to kill Buffy?" he asked.

Angel opened and closed his mouth several times, but couldn't find anything to say.

"Look, I think something needs to be done about Spike," Willow interjected. "And I don't know about this love stuff. I think he's just being a peeping tom. After all, it's about the only evil thing he can do. I bet it's really frustrating having all those murderous impulses and not being able to do anything about them."

"I quite agree, Willow." Giles turned to Angel. "However, I think it would be a good idea if you were to go back to L.A." Angel started to protest, but Giles went on, "You have no business here. Spike has been rendered harmless by the government, and even if he hadn't, Buffy does not need you to save her. She's a quite capable young woman, whose life is no longer your business. In other words, you weren't invited, and you're not welcome here."

"But. . ." Angel, started. But even he couldn't find a way to justify his presence. He hung his head, and turned to go.

For a moment Giles almost felt sorry for the man. But then he remembered all the pain that Angel had put Buffy through. In some ways that seemed worse than what Angelus had done to him. He knew Angel's continued presence could only cause Buffy more pain. And what's worse, it might actually drive her into Spike's arms.

Suddenly a chilling thought ran through Giles' mind. Not too long ago he'd tried to reason with Spike that there might be some higher purpose in his chipped state. That he could become a champion and do some good. At the time the vampire had only laughed at him.

But twice now, mystical forces had brought Spike and Buffy together. The thought of some sort of destiny pulling the two of them together made Giles' stomach turn.

He tried to tell himself that it was ridiculous. The Initiative had been an aberration, not part of some grand scheme. But the idea kept niggling in the back of his brain and wouldn't go away.

'That's it,' she thought. 'I don't care if I do wake him up. It's not like he's sick and needs his rest.'

Boldly, she marched up the stairs, down the hall, opened the door of her room, and froze.

Spike was lying asleep on her bed, naked. He had thrown off the blankets, and the sheet hung around his waist. She couldn't help but run her eyes down his chest to the place where the sheet was tented.

Only last night, seeing him like that, Buffy would have been filled with lusty thoughts. Sure the lust was there, but after her weird conversation with her mom a kind of longing filled her. She missed going to bed with someone, and waking up in their arms in the morning. Having someone to share stuff with, in that special boyfriendly way. That feeling of being loved, of knowing that someone considered you special.

None of which were things she would ever get from Spike. Unlike sexual fantasies of Spike - which Buffy believed were perfectly harmless, if somewhat disturbing - boyfriend fantasies of him could serve her no good.

It was like a little light-bulb really did go off in her head. Suddenly Buffy knew how to solve all her problems concerning Spike. In fact, if she was lucky, and her record held, he'd end up leaving town.

"Morning pet, need something?" before she could answer he had wrapped his arms around her, and rolled her across him and onto her back. Then his mouth was on hers.

She forgot all her plans, and just gave in to the kissing. Her hands roamed all over the hard plains of his body.

When she broke off the kissing to breathe, he whispered in her ear, "So beautiful, my Buffy."

For a moment his compliment and his possessiveness warmed her. Then she came to, and shoved him off of her. He went tumbling to the floor.

"What's wrong, luv?" he said, mystified. She almost thought she saw hurt in his eyes.

"No, it's not. Spike, this isn't what I want. Sex, it's not enough. I want a real a boyfriend, a real relationship."

Buffy smiled and nodded. It was working. There was no way Spike would consent to this. It was obvious he thought the whole idea was absurd. Besides, Spike on a date?

"What?" Buffy couldn't believe it. This couldn't be happening. "You understand I mean a real date right?"

"And I'm not sleeping with you, cause it's a first date, and I never sleep with people on the first date. We may not even kiss."

"Yeah, I remember when you weren't too scared to live your life, take what you want, be yourself."

"Cause you'd rather be doing other things," he said, as he put his hands on either side of her legs.

She clamped her legs shut, before he could do anything to her, or realize how much the sight of him on his knees in front of her like that turned her on.

"Right, well, you never answered me. Tomorrow night at seven. That work for you?"

This wasn't turning out right. He was supposed to run in terror, not take her out. Still, it was bound to be a disaster and that was good. She was sure Spike's idea of a date would be a miserable experience. That would make it easy for her to break things off with him.

She grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the shower. She needed to escape from Spike's confusing behavior. By the time she got out of the shower, he'd stolen one of her blankets and left the house.

After Buffy left, Spike had tried to go back to sleep. The thought of a real date with Buffy kept him up. Not that it was exactly what he was interested in, but still, if she was willing to go out with him, it meant he had some kind of chance.

On the other hand, she'd seemed kind of reluctant. Maybe she'd thought he'd never agree to such a thing. It half surprised him that he had. Which meant he had to impress her. Go all out. And since she obviously expected a 'normal' human date, that meant money. Which was a problem.

If she were a demon, he could have easily taken her out- showed her a proper night on the town. Chip or no chip, there were still enough demon's that owed him favors, and his reputation still opened doors for him in the underworld. It was obvious, though, that that wouldn't do for Buffy.

There was only one thing to do. If he left now, he could get to his car and make it to L.A. by late afternoon. He could be back again by sometime this evening. That would still give him time to catch up on his sleep, and get ready for tomorrow night.

It wasn't a plan he especially liked. Was Buffy really worth it? He picked his duster up off the floor, and reached into the pocket to pull out the pair of her panties he'd nicked during the night. Yeah, she was worth it.

He threw on his clothes, grabbed a blanket, and left the Summers' house. Not only would he be able to get enough money to take Buffy out for an incredible evening on the town, he'd also be able to get something for Joyce. He'd figured out last night exactly how to pay her back for all she'd done for him.

All he'd have to do was drive to L.A. and face his lawyers, not a pleasant prospect. As he got in his DeSoto, he couldn't help but wonder why a firm like Wolfram & Hart didn't have an office on the Hellmouth.

Cursing, Spike wandered through the halls of Wolfram & Hart. He should have been happier. He had more than enough money to take Buffy out, and Accounting had offered to set him up with an account in Sunnydale so he would have ready access to his money if he needed more. He'd also raided his safety deposit box to get a gift for Joyce. Having an inter-dimensional law-firm handle his interests was handy. It meant that he could access the same box from any of their branches, in this realm or any other.

Still, the place made his stomach turn. The L.A. branch was sterile, very unlike the distinguished offices in London. But the lawyers were more or less the same. Humans running hither and thither trying to accumulate power at any cost.

Not to mention the idea of the place brought back unpleasant memories from his mortal life. Memories that he should have been able to shake.

The lift couldn't get to the underground garage quick enough for him. And yet the damned thing seemed determined to stop on every floor. At least now he was the only one on the thing. Maybe no one else would get on.

No sooner had he thought it, when the lift stopped again, the doors opened and two women and a man entered. Spike's eyes went wide. All of his senses told him that all three of them were normal humans, but the woman in the center he recognized. He would have known her anywhere. Even her scent, although it was now human, was the same. Darla.

The man glared at him and said, "Would you like to take a picture? It would last longer."

Spike nearly laughed at the man's protectiveness. First of all, he had only one arm, the other was artificial. Secondly, the idea of anyone defending Darla was laughable. And yet she seemed to be human, which would have been strange enough if she wasn't also supposed to be dust.

"You know, Lindsey, you really should do your own research from time to time," the other woman said. "Do you prefer Spike or William the Bloody?" she asked him.

Spike turned his attention to the woman who had just spoken and wondered that he hadn't noticed her more when she'd entered. She was a tall, beautiful brunette that dripped of power, ambition, and confidence. Very much his type.

"Lilah Morgan, Special Projects. I do hope we can count on you not to tell anyone about our friend here?"

"Oh, I don't think Spike will tell. You wouldn't want to spoil Angel's surprise, now would you?" the woman who looked like Darla said.

If Spike had had any doubts as to who she was, they were gone when she spoke. Only Darla could promise pain and torment in that sweet smiling manner.

"You always were such a sweet boy," Darla said. Inwardly Spike flinched, he hated it when she called him that. "I'll see what I can do."

She spun around and glared at him. Even when the doors to the lift had closed, he could still feel her eyes boring into him.

Buffy looked down at her clothing. She was wearing jeans and a tank-top with a white button down shirt that wasn't buttoned.

"Mom, it's Spike. If he's going to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt, I don't see why I should dress up. Besides, he'll probably take me to some run down demon bar, and end up getting me in a fight. Oh, maybe you're right. Maybe I should wear something that the blood stains will come out of more easily."

Joyce sighed and gave up. Obviously her daughter was not going to take this seriously. She couldn't help but wonder how Buffy could misunderstand Spike so thoroughly. But then Buffy had always been something of a mystery. All of Joyce's hopes that after high school she would start to understand her daughter better, had been dashed.

At a quarter to seven the doorbell rang. Buffy looked up from the magazine she was reading on the couch.

Joyce was in the kitchen, and she heard Spike say, "Hello, pet. Sorry I'm early."

"Spike. I, um, yeah, I'm not ready yet, I'll be down in a second," Buffy stammered. Joyce herd clumping as her daughter ran upstairs.

In an attempt to make up for her daughterÕs lack of manners, Joyce went to properly greet Spike. When she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks. She had more faith in Spike than Buffy had, but still she wasn't prepared for what she saw.

Instead of a black t-shirt, he wore a dark blue, button-down, silk shirt which brought out the color of his eyes. His jeans and duster had been replaced by a pair of dress pants, and a suit jacket. Their color was somewhere between a light black and a dark grey, and the fabric had just a slight sheen to it. He even wore a tie, which was a dull yellow with black diagonal stripes. Had she seen that tie in a store, Joyce would have wondered who would wear such an awful thing. And yet, it added just the right amount of color to his outfit and was just bold enough to make the outfit fit Spike.

In fact, it wasn't so much the stylishness of the suit that made Spike look good. It was how comfortable he looked in it. As if he wore that sort of thing everyday. His attitude, the way he stood, made it seem as if this was just him.

In one hand he held a dozen red roses, and in the other, what seemed to be a poster. Joyce smiled at him and said, "Let me find a vase for those."

She took the roses to the kitchen and put them in a vase of fresh water. She sighed, trying to remember the last time anyone had brought her flowers. She carried them back to the living room and placed them on the mantle.

"Joyce, I wanted to thank you for helping me out the other day, and.. . wellÉ just in general." He handed her the poster in his hand.

Surprised by his gesture she took it from him, noticing with her curator's eye that it was not a not a modern poster, but rather an older lithograph. As she unrolled it, her eyes went wide. In large red block letters at the top it read ÔMoulin RougeÕ. Underneath danced a blond woman with her leg kicked high into the air as her skirt spun around her. ÔLa Goulue.Õ

"Where did you get this?" she asked, examining the paper and the ink. It seemed to be authentic.

He pulled out a small frame which held a napkin in it. On the napkin was a portrait of a young man. Straight away Joyce noticed the artists work. Although she had never seen the piece before, if it wasn't Toulouse-Lautrec, it was a damn good imitation. Joyce gasped as she stopped analyzing the line drawing, and took a look at the actual picture. There was no mistaking those cheekbones, it was Spike.

"Course I did. Darla, Angelus, Dru and I used to go to the Moulin Rouge all the time, till Dru ate one of the dancers."

Fascinated, if a little unsettled, Joyce sat down with Spike to talk about the artistic life of Paris in the 1890's.

Who knew Spike owned a suit, much less could tie a tie. And he looked so. . . sexy. How could he do this to her?

After much debate, she settled on a dark green dress. It wasn't her first choice, which was black, or her second choice, which was red, colors too sexy for this date. They might give Spike ideas. Green was a nice safe color. Even if the dress did have spaghetti straps and showed off a good amount of cleavage.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that she would have to wear nylons and heels, which would be a nightmare when she ended up having to slay something. Not to mention she liked the feel of the skirt as it swished around her legs.

Once she was well shod, she looked herself over in the mirror again. Not bad for twenty minutes work. Not good either. There just wasn't time to either curl her hair, or put it up nicely. She would never have gone out this way with anyone else. All her other dates usually had an hour's preparation, but it was Spike. Just cause he looked nice. . .

She made her way downstairs to find her mom and Spike sitting on the couch talking. She was only half way down the stairs when Spike noticed her.

'How cheesy can you get?' thought Buffy. Like this wasn't a scene out of almost any movie or TV show. No way was she going to let Spike charm her this easy. In fact, she resolved not to be charmed at all.

"Did you see the lovely flowers Spike got you?" her mother asked, taking a vase full of roses off the mantle.

Buffy hadn't really noticed. She'd been too busy trying to get her mind around the idea of Spike in a suit. Looking at the roses Buffy was once again thrown. They were obviously store bought roses, he hadn't just raided some poor old lady's garden. No, they had those itty-bitty white flowers that you got at a real flower shop. Of course, reflected Buffy, he still could have stolen them from a flower shop.

"Well, I'm obviously not wanted here," her mother said. "Have a good time, you two."

As she got outside she breathed a sigh of relief. First of all, now that she was out of her mother's presence, she didn't have to be so polite anymore. Secondly, Spike's DeSoto was parked in front of her house. It made her feel more confident that Spike was just Spike.

Spike seemed determined to keep up the act, as he opened the car door for her too.

Buffy gasped. She had never been there, but she'd always wanted to go. She'd imagined that that was where Riley would take her when he proposed. It was the nicest restaurant in Sunnydale. The place that girls like Cordelia had gone to before the prom.

"I've got money. And," he cut her off before she could interrupt, "I didn't steal it or kill anyone for it, or anything like that. In case you were wondering."

Luckily Sunnydale was a smallish town, so they arrived quickly - before the awkward silence could go on too long.

As they pulled up in front of the restaurant, Spike once again opened the door for her, as he gave his keys to the valet. Buffy giggled at the look the valet gave the car with the blacked out windows. Obviously he didn't think Spike could afford to take her here either.

Spike offered her his arm. She looked at him strangely for a moment, but she figured she could stand to be polite for another minute or so. After all, they were probably about to be thrown out of the place, and that would give her ammunition against him for a long time. She would just have to survive the immediate humiliation.

He took her inside, and told the maitre d' that they had reservations for two, under the name Summers. A waiter came to lead them to their table.

Before she could press him on it, they walked through double doors into the main restaurant and Buffy's breath was taken away. It was everything she'd ever dreamed it would be. The restaurant was shaped like a dome. The ceiling painted with stars like an idyllic night sky. Lights dangled like stars from the painted sky.

A large balcony ringed with tables circled the center of the room, which was a dance floor. At the far end, a band played light jazz as couples danced to the music. It reminded Buffy of the clubs you always saw in 30's movies. She found herself clinging to Spike in excitement.

The waiter led them to a table near the railing of the balcony and overlooking the dance floor. The waiter pulled out her chair for her, and she sat down across from Spike. He handed them their menus, then turned to Spike and asked him if they would like anything to drink.

"Gee, maybe ask me what I want?" Buffy said sarcastically. She opened her menu and found that their were no prices next to anything.

"I ordered a bottle of wine for both of us. I figured you'd like something sweet."

"Oh. . . well. . . okay, but don't think about getting me drunk," she joked. Seeking to change the subject she said, "Kind of underhanded of them not to put prices on the menu."

"You've never been to a fancy restaurant before, have you? Your menu doesn't have any prices; mine does."

"For the record I've been to some of the best restaurants in L.A. My dad started taking me around the time of the divorce. I guess I really didn't pay any attention to the prices. Besides isn't it kind of sexist? I mean what if I was paying for half?"

"You better have enough money to cover this, cause if I end up washing dishes, you end up inside a vacuum cleaner."

"Could you trust me just this much? I have the money, okay. Now figure out what you want."

He sounded annoyed, which suited Buffy just fine. It was familiar arguing with him like this. Comfortable.

The waiter returned with a bottle of wine. He uncorked it at the table, and poured a little into Spike's glass. Spike picked up the glass, sniffed it, swirled the wine around and took a sip. He nodded to the waiter who then filled both their glasses.

He then took their orders. Spike ordered a steak, rare and Buffy ordered lobster. She loved lobster and hadn't had it since she was little. Back then it had always seemed too much effort to break into the shell, but she figured Slayer strength had to be good for something.

When the waiter left, Spike turned to her and held out his hand, "Would you like to dance?"

"Sorry, pet," he said while taking his hand back. "I didn't realize you didn't know how to waltz."

"I can waltz. Who said I couldn't waltz?" She stood up defiantly and let Spike lead her to the dance floor.

He took her hand in his and put his other hand on her waist. She rested her free hand lightly on his shoulder, and they began to dance. It only took a moment for Buffy to feel swept away. Her dad had taught her to waltz when she was little for her aunt's wedding. And she had danced, but only with the ring bearer who'd been trying to get out of the whole thing.

This was the first time she'd ever waltzed with a real man. It was different than the sort of slow dancing she was used to. First of all, it wasn't all that slow. Once Spike realized she really did know what she was doing, he lead her around the dance floor to the time of the music. They spun around and around, weaving in and out of the other couples. Her gaze was drawn to his eyes, and the rest of the world seemed to spin away as if it wasn't actually real.

All too soon the music ended. Everyone applauded the band, which started playing a livelier tune. Some of the couples went to sit down while others started dancing to the new music. Buffy started to pull away but Spike held her firmly.

"I don't know how to dance. . . like that." She nodded toward the couples who were swing dancing.

He smiled at her and started back to the table, "All right, but I could show you some other time. If you like?"

Actually Buffy had always wanted to learn to swing dance, but slaying always seemed to interfere with those sorts of plans.

"Maybe, I don't really have much time for this sort of thing." Noncommittal was always good.

When they got back to the table, Spike pulled out the chair for her. He obviously intended to go all the way with the gentleman thing, which was good, cause it meant he couldn't expect anything from her at the end of the night.

"Which kind? Used to be everyone knew how to dance. I know it's the fashionable thing, nowadays for men not to dance, but in my time we loved it. Only sociably acceptable way of touching the ladies," he said with a smirk.

"Of course not. Some things are about fighting and killing." Despite his words, his tone was joking.

It would be so easy, thought Spike, to give in to her. To let her have her way. To take her back to his crypt and ravish her till morning. The only problem was, she was drunk.

Inwardly he cursed himself for ordering wine. How could he have been expected to know that the Slayer couldn't hold her liquor? She had vampire-like stamina, why couldn't she have the vampire constitution as well?

Instead here she was, nibbling on his ear and groping him as he was trying to drive her home.

He could hear the sound of a zipper, followed by her hand reaching down to grab him. Groaning, he quickly pulled the car over.

"Buffy, stop," he told her, his voice tortured yet hopeful. He couldn't quite bring himself to remove her hand though.

'That was a bloody good question,' he thought. After all he was evil, it shouldn't bother him to take advantage of her like this. He'd done it before. He may have claimed that he hadn't known about the magics involved the night they'd had sex, but that was a lie. He hadn't known exactly what was wrong with her, but he'd known she wasn't herself.

Things had been different then. He'd thought of her as his mortal enemy. But now? He wanted her, wanted her desperately. But he wanted her willing. He wanted her to choose him, to want to be with him - in the same way he wanted to be with her.

She licked her lips and started to bend down. Quickly, he grabbed the back of her head to stop her. He knew that the moment her mouth touched his cock he'd have no will left. She turned back to face him and ran her free hand across his chest.

Not trusting himself to answer her, he thrust his tongue into her mouth instead, tasting her. As her tongue battled with his, he couldn't help but momentarily losing himself in the fantasy of it licking his cock.

"Which was refilled several times. Besides, I thought no sex was one of the rules?"

"Only if you're the president. Look, tomorrow, once you've soberred up, you're more than welcome to play with me however you want. Just, not tonight."

Buffy sat back and pouted, jutting out her lip in the most endearing way. Once again, Spike found he was cursing himself. Why did Buffy have to choose now of all times to start listening to him? Why couldn't she just force herself on him? It's not like she'd be able to blame him in the morning that way. After all, he wasn't capable of fighting her.

Instead, she just re-buckled her seat-belt, and he had no choice but to start the car up again and drive her home.

"Yeah, spill the dirt, Buff. We want to know all the grizzly details." Xander said.

Buffy smiled embarrassed by her two best friends' questions. She'd been forced to tell them about her date with Spike because they had wanted her to go with them to the Bronze that night. Neither had been happy with her plan, but they hadn't had much say in it, and she'd already agreed.

"Did he take you to some dirty Biker bar? Or a strip joint?" Willow asked, curiously.

Both Willow and Xander laughed as they imagined all the awful possibilities that Spike might have chosen for date locations.

"Ye Gods! Whatever you do don't let Anya find out." Xander exclaimed, obviously thinking about how much such an evening would cost him.

"What was it like? Was it romantic? I bet it was romantic." Willow said dreamily. "Except that it was Spike, so it couldn't be," she corrected herself.

"It was, kind of nice. We danced. And the food was wonderful. Oh my god, the desert. I had this cake with seven different kinds of chocolate and a strawberry sauce. It was the most amazing thing."

"Actually, there are eleven. But that's not the point here. We need to focus on the fact that you were with Spike. I mean how good a time could you have had?" Xander asked.

"Then what? Buffy, get a grip. Wait, maybe it's another spell. Willow, you should check for a spell," Xander insisted.

"I don't think there's a spell Xander, and weren't you supposed to meet Anya?" Willow asked.

"Anya, yeah right. I almost forgot. Remember, say nothing about Spike's choice in restaurant. She must never know," Xander said as he left.

Willow watched Xander leave, then turned to her best friend, "Okay, what's going on? Do you like Spike?"

"What? No. I said it was nice, that's all. Not that I like him. They have nothing to do with each other."

"Buffy, it's me. Come on. If you're not interested why haven't you gotten rid of him? I mean you could just tell him 'No.' You don't need an elaborate plan."

"It's not that simple, Wil. I wish it was. He's. . . nice. If he was anyone other than Spike. . . "

"Buffy, he is Spike. You know, broken-bottle-in-the-face, killed-two-slayers, Spike. Playing around with him like this. . . It's not safe. You need to stop this."

"You're right, Wil. I'll. . . I'll go over there right now and tell him it has to stop."

Buffy was resolved. She was resolve girl. She said goodbye to Willow and headed straight over to Spike's crypt. The craziness that had been going on for the last month or so would come to an end.

Except she really didn't want it to. The more she thought about it, the nicer a relationship with Spike seemed. Until she remembered that it was Spike. He hated her. He didn't care about her. He was just trying to find a new way to hurt her since he couldn't do it physically.

She flung open the door to the crypt and called out his name, but no one answered. She went inside, letting the door shut behind her, as her eyes adjusted from the late afternoon sunlight to the gloom of Spike's crypt.

No one was there. For a moment Buffy was worried, then she realized he was probably just on the lower level. Still determined, she marched over to the trap door and heaved it open. As she did so, she heard some kind of yelling. Without thinking, she leapt down into the cavern to rescue Spike from whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into.

But there was nothing. The lower level was empty, except for Spike who was thrashing about on his bed, moaning. 'He's having a nightmare,' Buffy thought at exactly the same moment she thought, 'He's naked.'

She ran over to him, and shook him awake, trying not to think about her hands on his chest, or the way the blankets were slipping lower. She had resolve. She'd wake him up, break up with him, and be gone. 'It's easy as one, two, three' she told herself.

"Huh? What?" Spike said as he startled awake. "Buffy?" he asked as his eyes focused in on her.

Being the Slayer, she'd had some pretty wild technicolor dreams of her own. Both from her own experiences, and those of past Slayers. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what a vampire would have nightmares about. After all, the grisly things that bothered her, he probably liked. 'Maybe he's afraid of kittens,' she thought. 'Like Anya's afraid of bunnies.' The notion made her smile inwardly.

"Right." He took a moment to gather himself together. She waited expectantly, wondering what he'd say about the dream. "So," he said giving her a sudden and wicked smile, "You come to give me my blow job?"

"What?!" Buffy was shocked. Then she remembered her drunken behavior from the night before.

It was embarrassing, really. Somewhere halfway through the evening, when she'd realized that she was having a good time, she'd come up with a second plan. She would act drunk, come on to him, then in the morning she could break up with him for taking advantage of her. In retrospect, it was the sort of plan she could only have come up with if she was already drunk. In fact, a little part of her suspected that she'd only come up with it as an excuse to break her 'no sex on the first date' rule.

But he hadn't 'taken advantage' of her, and she couldn't understand why. Didn't he want her? How could Spike stick to a plan for this long?

"I did not come over here to. . . blow you. And don't change the subject," she said.

Spike was obviously not going to talk about this, which just wouldn't do. Buffy was dying to know what he'd been dreaming about. The more evasive he was, the more she wanted to know.

"Well then I guess we have nothing more to talk about and I have no reason to stay," she said as she started to get up off the bed.

Spike grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly against him. Buffy's cheek was momentarily pressed up against his chest, and his other arm circled her shoulders, holding her tight. For just a moment, she let herself enjoy the sensation of being held tight, then she pushed away a little so she could look at his face.

"Hold on. What's the rush? You came by here for something. What was it?" he asked.

"Well. . . I was going to tell you what a wonderful time I had last night. I thought maybe we could do it again some time, or you could show me how to dance, like you said. But there's no point in that now. I'll just be going."

She made a great show of trying to get up and leave. He wouldn't let go of her arm though, not that she was struggling against him. She knew she could get away if she needed to. She wasn't quite willing to give up her slim hope of getting him to tell her about his dream.

"Wait. Stop. Look pet, I had a nice time too. Why can't we do it again? You want to go back tonight? We can. Or to the theatre, or whatever. Just name it."

He seemed both desperate and hopeful. For just a moment Buffy actually believed that Spike was really interested in her. But she couldn't let herself think that. However much she might want to be with Spike, and it was becoming more and more obvious to her that for some reason she did, he hated her. Just because she hadn't found it yet didn't mean there wasn't a plan to hurt or maybe kill her.

"What's the point?" she asked. He looked at her blankly as if he didn't understand the question. "This is all obviously just a game to you, Spike. You're not really interested in a relationship or anything. So I should just go."

"No. Wait. You've got it all wrong, pet. I do. I want that. What makes you think I don't?"

"'Cause you won't tell me about your dream," she said matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious think in the world.

"I don't follow, luv," he said warily, as if he could feel her trap closing about him.

"It's simple. If this were a real relationship we'd talk to each other about stuff. Like bad dreams. You know, like in movies when someone has a nightmare, and when he wakes up his girlfriend asks him, 'Did you have that dream again honey?' and he says 'yes.'"

"True, most movies don't have vampires in them. Not very realistic. But that's not the point. Point is, obviously you don't want me to be a real part of your life, or unlife, or whatever. So I'll just be going."

"Hold on. Let me get this straight. If I tell you about my dream, we'll be a real couple, and you'll stay?" He paused for a moment, then gave her a mischievous grin. "And give me a blow job?"

The problem was, it was becoming all Buffy was thinking about. She really wanted to go down on him. She'd been thinking about it ever since the night they'd spent together. She hadn't done it then because she'd said something early on about not being there to give him oral sex. Stubbornly she'd stuck to that and it had been one of the few things they hadn't done that night. She'd regretted it ever since.

What was wrong with her? Why had she spent the last several weeks fantasizing about sucking a vampire's cock? That wasn't the sort of thing that should turn her on. It didn't even make sense to her. After all, it's not like blowing him did anything to her. And yet she wanted to do it.

"Fine. Okay. I guess. . . If you told me about you dream, we'd be officially dating, so sex would be . . . okay. "

How had he turned this around on her? Of course she could get out of it if she wanted to. She didn't have to agree to his ridiculous terms. The problem was, she wanted to.

He looked at her intently. To her surprise, he didn't jump at the opportunity. Instead, it was obvious that he was thinking it over. Deciding if it was worth it. Buffy was hurt. Shouldn't it be an obvious choice? Didn't he want her? Even if it was only physical?

He couldn't seem to figure out what to say. Buffy's hurt was gone and replaced by even more curiosity than ever. It took every bit of will power she had to not start trying to shake it out of him.

"It was. . . more of a memory really. When I was seven, we came home, my mum and me, from shopping. I don't know anymore what we bought, but I wanted to show my dad. I ran to his study. I wasn't supposed to go in there. . . But I did. He. . . he shot himself okay. That's what I dreamt about. About finding my dad. Are you happy now?" he asked angrily.

Buffy was shocked. She hadn't expected something so human. The fact was, she tried to forget that Spike - that any vampire she ran across - had once been human. Remembering that always felt like a failure. Maybe not hers. But long ago, another Slayer had failed. Even if only because she couldn't be everywhere at once.

"I'm so sorry," Buffy said. She leaned in closer to him and put her arms around him to comfort him. "But it's good you talked about it. Obviously you still have a lot to work out."

"What?" he pulled away from her. "Don't start that modern psycho babble on me. I don't have issues; I don't need closure."

"Well obviously you do. I mean, traumatic as it must have been, it was over a hundred years ago and you are still dreaming about it."

"I'm not still dreaming about it. I haven't even thought about my father since. . . I don't even know when. Probably not since I died myself. Just let it go."

"So why were you dreaming of him now. Seems kind of random. I wouldn't even expect this sort of thing to bother a vampire."

"It doesn't bother me. Least not when I'm awake. And it's your fault anyway. You and your fancy expensive restaurants."

"You didn't steal it? Find that kind of hard to believe, seeing as how you don't have a job, but what does that have to do with anything."

"No, I mean it's mine, from when I was alive. Look, since you're obviously not going to let this go. . . My family, we were gentry, okay. We had wealth, money, the whole deal. Which was actually not entirely normal. Most of the gentry had lost most of their lands; the middle class was rising. So on. Anyway, how we kept what was ours, I don't know. All I know is that a firm called Wolfram & Hart managed all of it. When I was turned, they approached me and told me they would keep on managing it all for me. If I ever needed anything I just had to come to them and they'd make sure my money was well invested."

"But you were dead?" interrupted Buffy. "I mean, did they know you were a vampire?"

"Yes, that's the point. Their clientele, they are almost all supernatural. They have offices not just all over the world, but in all sorts of different dimensions. They are huge and they are evil. And they're the reason my dad killed himself. Didn't know it at first. Found out about it much later on. Point being, going to their office in L.A. to get some money, it brought it all back okay. Can we be done talking about this now?"

"Are you saying there is this huge evil law-firm practically on my doorstep and no one ever told me about it?" Buffy asked. She'd forgot all about Spike's past traumas. The Slayer in her had taken over.

"Buffy, look. Don't get any ideas about them. Wolfram & Hart, they're big. Bigger than big. These aren't guys you can fight."

Buffy was offended. She was the Slayer and she couldn't fight a bunch of lawyers? How tough could they be? Didn't Spike at least respect her as a fighter anymore?

"They're lawyers right? Guys in suits? What could they possibly do to me? I'm not saying rush in without a plan. But this calls for research and. . . I don't know. Something. I shouldn't just ignore them."

"That's exactly what you should do. Look, these guys are powerful. Connected to all the worst demons. Into the big magic. Hell, they were able to bring Darla back. . ." Spike stopped himself a moment too late. "Fuck" he said under his breath.

"No time, we have to go to L.A. ASAP. Grab your keys and coat." Instead of waiting for him to do so, Buffy pulled a coat from the coat rack by the door, and began to look for his keys.

To Buffy's dismay her Watcher wasn't flying into action, instead he was cleaning his glasses.

"Now hold on just a second. Are you sure? More importantly, why not just call Angel and warn him?"

"Because he needs help Giles. I need to go help him. And I'm sure. Spike told me." When she saw that Giles didn't consider Spike to be a reliable source, she continued, "he didn't mean to. It just slipped out. See there's this law-firm Wolfman & Harp, and they brought Darla back. But you see, they manage Spike's money. Turns out he's loaded. Anyway, not the point. He saw her there, and they said something about a plan and Angel, and WE HAVE TO GO."

"First of all, Buffy, I believe you mean Wolfram & Hart. Secondly, I doubt even they have the power to do such a thing. Thirdly, Angel has a phone. I suggest we use it to call him. If he needs our help, he can ask for it. Then perhaps we can see about going to L.A. In the mean time, I suggest you calm down."

"Then I suggest you look somewhere else. You know, I do have things to do. I can't just pick up at the drop of a hat and go traipsing around the country."

"It's not around the country! It's just a couple hours away. And what do you have to do? You don't work, you don't go to school, and your girlfriend isn't in the country right now."

"Yes, well. Thank you for pointing out the inadequacies in my life. Now good bye," he dismissed her as he closed the door in her face.

Unfortunately, that proved harder than she thought. Xander had to work, and didn't have his own car, anyway. Neither did Willow or Anya, and her mother wouldn't take her or lend her the car, claiming she had too much to do preparing for a new show at the Gallery.

Buffy was determined - and more than that, she'd always been self-reliant. If she could take a bus to L.A. when she was seventeen and running away from home, she could certainly grab one now. Not that a trip to the Sunnydale bus station was her idea of a good time.

She had just packed up some things: several changes of clothes, stakes, and even a crossbow. That's when she realized that there was one more person she knew with a car. Spike. All she had to do was think of a way to convince him. She grabbed her bag and started toward the cemetery and his crypt.

She'd paid him for stuff in the past, but now he had money, so that wouldn't work. She didn't really see hitting him working, either. Not only was it not likely to convince him, but she didn't think she could bring herself to hit Spike anymore. She'd thought about it, that's for sure. That satisfying crunch whenever she broke his nose. But she knew she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she hit Spike. It was one thing to punch your mortal enemy, it was another to hit a guy whom you'd slept with and had taken you out to dinner.

Things had forever changed between her and Spike. If she hit him now, part of her would always think of it as abuse. Knowing Spike probably wouldn't really hold it against her didn't make it any better - it made it worse. She still remembered from good old Hellmouth High, Debbie, who had defended her boyfriend Pete even after he hit her. Debbie who had been killed by her Jeckel and Hyde boyfriend. She'd never blamed him. She'd always forgiven him. The thought that Spike might forgive her for hitting him made her sick to her stomach.

'Oh god,' she thought. 'What if he ever gets the chip out? What if I have to fight him? To kill him?'

She stopped dead in her tracks at the thought. Then she laughed. A passerby looked at her strangely, and no wonder. Her laughter was half hysterical. What if she had to kill Spike? She'd killed Angel, hadn't she?

Tears began to run down her face at the memory. Buffy had put a lot of swords through a lot of things in her time, but she could still remember exactly how much resistance there had been as she had thrust the sword into Angel's chest. The way the sword cut through him, the tiny sound it made, the way it shook in her hands. It was possibly the most tactile memory she possessed, a memory she was sure she would carry to her grave.

There was of course a third option when it came to convincing Spike. Sex. But Buffy could see the path that would lead to. She could imagine a future in which whenever she needed help or information from Spike, he made her sleep with him. She could imagine him demanding specific sex acts depending on what she wanted or needed from him.

The thought frightened and disgusted her, in no small part because it also turned her on. Her mind began whirling with the thoughts of the kind of things Spike might want her to do. All the ways he might want to do her.

She shook her head, trying to clear it of such thoughts. She didn't really want that, she knew. If she wanted anything from Spike, it was the impossible. A real relationship. A loving, caring, relationship between equals. Of course, Buffy was starting to believe that the fact that Spike was a vampire was the least of the reasons that wasn't possible. In fact in some ways that made it more possible with him than with any other guy.

She knew. She'd always known. From the first time that Riley had discovered that she was the Slayer, that he felt inadequate. It was stupid. So she was stronger than him, so what? In almost every relationship in the world, the man was stronger than the woman, that didn't mean the woman wasn't the man's equal. It was one thing. One small part of who she was, and not, Buffy thought, the most important part.

Riley was better than her at a lot of things. That didn't make him better than her in general, or make her a lesser person than Riley. It just made her a different person than Riley. But he had never seen it that way.

Spike would be different. She knew that she and Spike could have a relationship and spar on a regular basis, and that she would never have to hold back. She could beat him in every single fight, and he would never be insulted, never take it personally unless he thought she was holding back.

She was at the cemetery now, and she still hadn't figured out how to convince Spike. She'd just have to play it by ear. Spike's crypt came into view and Buffy completely forgot about everything she'd been thinking. the door to his crypt was wide open. He never left it open.

She peered inside at the gloom. The place was a mess. The lid of the stone coffin had been overturned and a corner of it had broken off. There were smashed bottles everywhere. In one corner a knocked over candle still burned. Luckily, since it lay on the stone floor the place was in no danger of burning down.

But there was no answer. Who ever had done this was long since gone. Quickly Buffy scanned the floor. It was dusty, but there were no large piles of dust. It was all the natural kind that just accumulated over time. No vampire dust.

That was both good and bad. Good in that it meant that Spike could still be alive somewhere. But bad because it meant that either none of his attackers had been vampires, or there had been so many, or they had been so good that Spike hadn't managed to dust a single one before they took him away.

Just to be sure Buffy checked the lower cavern. It seemed undisturbed. The fight must have completely happened upstairs. Buffy grabbed a machete that Spike kept, and went back outside to retrieve her bag. She pulled out a stake tucking it behind her back, under her jacket, and then retrieved the crossbow. She threw the bag and the rest of her stuff into the crypt and closed the door. She would come back for it when she had found whoever had decided to mess with Spike. Whether they were demon or vamp, she was ready. And god help whatever got in her way.

Chapter 21
Buffy burst into Willie's instantly scanning the room for signs of trouble and of Spike. It looked like she wasn't the first rambunctious person to come in tonight. A couple broken chairs indicated that there had been a fight earlier in the evening.

There was no sign of Spike - not that she'd expected one. She'd come here for the one thing Willie always served: information.

"Not you, too," she heard Willie complain. She spun around to face him. "Not that you aren't always welcome in my establishment, Slayer. Please have a seat; can I get you something to drink?"

"You just missed him - well, maybe half an hour ago. Don't know where he was headed, although there's this dive on first street by the pier, 'The Mermaid's Grasp'. Can you believe they actually named a place that? No sense of class."

"Whoa, slow down. What do you mean, 'I just missed him'? Was he here?" Buffy was confused, especially by the idea that Willie would call some other place a dive, or talk of class.

"Yeah, came in, had a few drinks, ticked off a Kreslaw demon, Lenny there's still cleaning up the mess." He motioned to a scaly, grey demon who was picking up the remains of the broken chairs. "Then he left. He was pretty drunk. Glad to see you're finally doing something about him. That vampire is a menace."

It wasn't until she was out the door that it occurred to Buffy that she'd never gotten information out of Willie that easily. She hadn't even had to pretend to punch him. Her first thought was that it was a trap. But Willie was a better actor than that. He'd have played harder to get. He must really hate Spike. Something that most of the time Buffy understood. She also understood how Spike could be especially bad for business at a place like Willie's.

She had no choice but to head for the pier and wonder what was going on. Willie had made it sound like Spike was just on a drunken rampage, not in any trouble. Maybe he got away and was out looking for the mastermind behind the attack on his crypt. Or maybe, said a voice in the back of her head, he was never in any danger at all and he's just being Spike.

But she couldn't take the chance that Spike had gotten himself into another mess. After all, even if he was just being Spike, he could still be in serious trouble.

When she found 'The Mermaid's Grasp', Willie's talk of dive and class started to make sense. The building was old and run down. The windows had been painted over with thick black paint - probably for the sake of vampiric clientele. There was a big neon sign which showed what some people might have called a mermaid. The neon figure had impossibly large breasts and instead of a tail she had tentacles. She was really more of a squid-maid.

The bouncer at the door let her in without any question. His eyes lingered equally long on her crossbow and her cleavage. But he didn't say a word. As she walked inside she could almost feel his eyes on her ass. She was very self-conscious, wondering if she was wiggling or swaying in a way that anyone could construe as sexy. She really hoped not. In fact, she really wished she was wearing some really baggy sweats instead of her jeans and a tank-top with a jacket.

As she got passed the entryway into the main part of establishment, she realized sweats wouldn't be necessary. Most of the room was almost without any light, allowing the patrons to disappear into the gloom; only the center was lit. In the center was a runway with a pole.

As Buffy watched, a green skinned she-demon, with tentacles instead of arms, and wearing only a red thong and knee high boots, wrapped one tentacle and one leg around the pole. She leaned all the way back and spread her other leg out to the side giving the audience a very good view of her. . . thong. The audience hooted and hollered, making several rude and lusty comments.

"I could do that," Buffy said under her breath. Then she blushed bright scarlet as suggestive chuckles from the nearby darkness told her that several of the patrons had superhuman hearing.

Buffy wanted to run. She had never felt so uncomfortable in her life. But there was no way the Slayer was going to let a bunch of demons see her run. Especially the low lives who frequented a sleazy strip joint like this.

It would, however, take her forever to scan the room. The lighting was obviously meant to show off the girls, and keep the patrons from having to look at each other. Even Spike's platinum hair would be hard to spot in the gloom.

So, she headed to the bar which was mostly empty. Obviously, people got their drinks and moved to the tables around the stage. That made it easy to catch the bartenders attention.

'Lame,' she thought. But she was too flustered by the show going on behind her to be intimidating.

It wasn't the bartender who responded but an average looking guy sporting the 70's pimp look who was the only other person sitting at the bar.

"Hi, I'm Lou. The owner. You said you were looking for Spike?" Buffy nodded. Lou seemed to be human and she wondered why demon bars were always owned by humans. "Come with me. He's in the V.I.P. room."

"Thanks. After you," Buffy said. There was no way she was letting this sleaze-ball behind her.

He got up, and lead her across the room to a door. Buffy noticed the sign on the door read, 'Staff Only.'

"There's just one thing," he said turning around. Buffy had only a moment to wonder why he had put on red sunglasses before there was a bright flash.

Spike paced angrily around his crypt. Angry at himself for letting slip about Darla, angry at Darla for being alive, angry at Wolfram & Hart for bringing her back, angry at Buffy for running off, and angry at Angel for being Angel.

He took another drink straight from the bottle, then for no particular reason, he threw it across the room. It shattered as it hit the stone wall.

"FUCK!" he yelled. 'Brilliant, bloody brilliant, Spike. Now you have nothing to drink,' he thought.

His fury mounting, he grabbed the lid of the sarcophagus and using all his strength, flipped it over against the wall. He'd used so much force that a corner broke off when it hit the tomb wall. But it wasn't enough. Spike spun around in his crypt like a tornado. Turning over everything - throwing things. It was only when he picked up his TV to throw it that he realized he was destroying his own home.

Carefully, he set the TV back down, grabbed his duster, and went out the door. The sun had just gone down, and he intended to get completely pissed and start a fight or two.

He went straight to Willie's. It took only a couple shots before he could find a flimsy excuse for starting a fight. Unfortunately, there just wasn't anyone worthy of his fists there tonight. Only a few punches and his opponent was down, and Spike was completely unharmed.

Willie begged him to leave. Spike grumbled something about it not being the sort of action he was looking for anyway, and left.

'Right now,' he thought, 'Buffy's probably in L.A. all curled up with Angel.' The thought caused him to punch a brick wall. The pain felt good, but since Angel wasn't there to hit, it was ultimately unsatisfying.

He could see Buffy sitting on Angel's lap making puppy eyes at him as they began kissing. Well, he'd show her.

His feet took him to 'The Mermaid's Grasp'. He couldn't remember actually deciding to go there, but once he was, he decided he might as well go in.

He paid the bouncer the entrance fee. This was not the sort of place where one messed around. They were deadly serious about business here.

"Whiskey or O Neg?" the bartender asked him. Spike had been a regular since getting his chip. Even though he hadn't been in since his night with Buffy, they still remembered him.

He downed the drink in one gulp. Then he looked around. Lou was there, by the bar, just like always.

Lou looked almost startled for a minute, but then he smiled. Spike had never done anything other than sit at the foot of the stage, and on occasion paid for a lap dance.

Sophia was quickly brought over, and after an exchange of money, she led Spike up to the private rooms on the upper level.

Sophia, Spike thought, must have been the most inappropriately named vampire on the planet. She made Harmony look like Einstein. But at least, he hoped, she was a professional, and wouldn't yap the way Harmony always had. Besides, the important thing was that she was tall and dark, completely the opposite of Buffy.

She smiled, and let her face relax. Since it was a demon bar she normally wore her vampiric face, the patrons finding it more attractive. But for this she retracted her fangs. She knelt down in front of him and unzipped his jeans and her hands reached in to pull out his cock.

The moment her cold hands touched him his stomach turned. She began to stroke him as she kissed him up and down his length, trying to urge him to life. But she was a cold dead thing. Spike knew suddenly that nothing she could do would make him hard.

For the first time in his entire vampiric existence, Spike felt dead. He felt cold and hollow. He also felt stupid. Stupid for thinking that Buffy would ever have him. Would ever touch him again. Would ever want him. He was a corpse, and she was alive. Completely and utterly. It was why he longed for her, why he burned for her.

"Wow, guess those soldiers didn't just make you fangless, huh?" she retaliated cruelly.

"Come on. Everyone knows. Big bad Spike got neutered by the government. Didn't know it went so deep, though. Can't kill, can you? Can't get it up either?"

Without thinking, Spike leapt toward her, grabbing a stake he always carried out of his jacket. Her eyes went wide as the stake penetrated her heart.

"Stupid bint. I can still kill vampires," he snarled as she exploded into dust. "Fuck," he said quietly the next minute.

She may have been stupid, and less than professional teasing him, but he'd just made a monumental mistake. He'd just killed one of 'The Mermaid's Grasp's girls. The chances were, he wasn't going to survive. You could do just about anything you liked to the girls here, except chop off anything that wouldn't grow back - or kill them.

He tried to think of what to do, of how to get out without ending up a pile of dust himself. Okay, so probably he could get out safely, even if he had to fight his way out. But there would be no staying in Sunnydale. Lou wouldn't rest until Spike had been made an example of.

There were no windows he could leave through. There was no way out but through the front. If he went down right away, they'd be suspicious though. He should wait. He checked the time.

But how long? What was the appropriate time? He'd never been with a whore, and he'd never paid attention to the other patrons here who had. He was a vampire which meant that he had incredible stamina, but did vampires just use a whore once, or did they do it over and over? He had no idea what was normal. And how long should he figure for each time?

Again, his own experience gave him no guide. Every other woman he'd been with - even Harmony - he'd taken the time to please. So how long would sex take if he was selfish, and just trying to get off? Would it be like masturbating? He had no idea, but that seemed to make sense.

He checked the clock on the wall again, and to his surprise realized that fifteen minutes had passed while he was worrying. How long had he been with Sophia before he'd killed her? Before he'd checked the time? Five minutes at least. Maybe more.

Before he left the room he did one more thing. He opened the drawer in the bedside table. Much as he hoped the room was fully equipped with anything the occupants might need. Lubricant, handcuffs, feathers, candles, knives.

He hid one knife in his boot, and another up his sleeve, where he could get to them easily. Then Spike took a deep unneeded breath and readied himself to look normal, or at least look like he'd just been fucked. Which wasn't entirely untrue, except it turned out he'd fucked himself this time.

As calmly as he could, he made his way back down into the main room, lighting a cigarette as he went. Trying to be casual, he headed to the bar to order a drink. As he walked over, he realized that Lou wasn't there. Lou was always there.

He ordered his drink and something tugged at his senses. Just the tinniest trace of vanilla in the air. Almost as if Buffy had been there. 'Rubbish,' he thought. 'She'd never come in a place like this. Just someone else wearing vanilla. Probably not really vanilla, probably just wishful thinking.'

But he couldn't remember any of the girls here ever wearing a scent even remotely like that. As he downed his drink an awful thought came to him. What if Buffy had been here? What if she was the reason Lou wasn't anywhere to be seen?

Putting his glass down, he said goodnight to the bartender, and followed the scent into the dark room. Once his back was turned to the bartender, he vamped so as to heighten his senses. He hoped no one - other than the bartender - would know that he rarely wore his vampire face. As soon as he did so, he became sure that the scent was Buffy's.

It took everything in him not to run after this slight trace of her. Instead, he continued to walk calmly toward a door marked 'Staff Only'. Hoping no one was looking, he went through the door. Luckily, in a strip club no one was likely to look at him - they'd be too busy eyeing the girls.

The door lead to an empty hallway. He could hear the sounds of girls getting ready, he also heard Lou's voice, "Too bad we can't use eBay, auction her worldwide. Do you have any idea how much some demons would pay to have a Slayer to do with as they please?"

Spike ran headlong down the hall and into the room where he could hear Lou, and smell Buffy. He burst into the room. The first thing he saw was Buffy, standing totally still with a blank expression on her face, and Lou who had just slapped her on the ass.

Spike was filled with so much rage, such murderous thoughts toward Lou, that the chip in his head fired before he could even decide on how to hurt the bar owner. Spike fell to the floor, clutching his head in agony.

Lou didn't even flinch. "You shouldn't have come in here, Spike. Didn't you see the sign? Kill him."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'What else could possibly go wrong?' Spike thought as he ducked one of the Slayer's punches.

On the other hand, things could be worse. Sure he was stuck in a fight where he couldn't throw a punch for fear of setting off his chip, however, in her trance like state, Buffy was slow and predictable. The creativity and spirit which made her the most deadly fighter he'd ever faced were completely lacking. Had he been able to hit back, he would have won hands down.

She wasn't his only problem. Lou and the flunky he'd been talking to when Spike entered the room, were simply watching the show at the moment, but Spike was sure if he did somehow defeat Buffy, they would raise the alarm.

And just like that he had a plan. Brainwashed Buffy continued in her mindless and predictable attacks. It was easy to second guess her, to move her into just the right spot, and then to duck at just the right moment.

Her fist flew over his head and connected with Lou's face. Lou went down like a sack of potatoes. For the first time that night luck shone down on Spike. The moment Lou lost consciousness, Buffy regained hers.

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the room. Behind him he could hear the stunned flunky say, "Boss?" before he started running for help.

Spike's luck seemed to hold however. By some small miracle, 'The Mermaid's Grasp' was actually up to code, and bright green signs pointed the back way out. Also, Buffy didn't stop to question him or protest but followed him outside. In Spike's book, that was a rather large miracle.

"Of all the nights to be a good boy and not drink and drive," he muttered under his breath. He didn't see how Buffy and he would make it very far without wheels. Having no other choice they took off at a dead run down the street.

Behind them he could hear bouncers, strippers, and patrons, all pour out of 'The Mermaid's Grasp', eager for blood. In front of them a single headlight bore down on them. Spike smiled as he managed to make out the non-human form of the rider. Luck hadn't abandoned them yet.

The motorcycle bore down on him, unaware, or uncaring. Timing it just right, Spike leapt up into the air, kicking out his foot. He caught the rider square in the chest knocking him off the motorcycle. Spike quickly righted the bike and got on. Behind him he thought he heard Buffy mutter, "I could do that." When he looked at her she was blushing bright red, though he couldn't imagine why.

She hesitated for just a moment. But one look at the angry mob behind them decided her. She took Spike's hand and got on behind him, hugging him tightly. He headed out of town as fast as the bike could carry them.

Buffy had lost track of time. Riding behind a cute, dangerous guy on a motorcycle should have been sexy and glamorous. It always was in the movies. Instead, Buffy thought she was about ready to jump off the back.

Her fingers were cold and numb, and the muscles in her arms were cramping from holding onto Spike. It seemed like every time she tried to look around him she got a bug in the face, and the wind whipped her hair into her eyes. At the speed they were going, she was too scared to hold on with only one hand and brush them out of her face. She had no helmet, and images of gruesome road safety videos from Driver's Ed kept flashing through her mind.

Not to mention that something had happened. Something really bad. Or maybe it had only almost happened. But despite her brief memory loss, Buffy was sure that blacking out in a place like 'The Mermaid's Grasp' could not be good.

She wanted to ask Spike about it. Wanted to ask him what happened. But there was no way she could carry on a conversation on the motorcycle.

All she knew was that they had been riding without a break for some time now. Spike had looked beaten up, and he had run. Buffy had never known Spike to run from a fight unless he was fighting her.

Finally, to her relief, Spike pulled over into a 24-hour gas station. He got off the bike and began to put gas in it. Whimpering a little, Buffy got off as well. Her arms weren't the only things that were stiff. She happily thrust her hand under her armpits to warm them up.

"You all right?" asked Spike as he put the nozzle in the tank. His voice was flat, as if he was angry but trying not to show it.

"Well, someone has to do the thinking around here." He started to raise his voice, "And I sure as hell don't trust you to do it. What the hell were you thinking going into a place like that?" he roared.

"FROM WHAT? You know, Slayer I've been taking care of my self longer than you've been alive." he barked.

"I don't know. I got to your place, and there had obviously been a fight, so I went looking for you, and Willie said something about that place. So I went there and asked about you, and I don't know what happened after that."

Spike sank down to the ground, leaning against the gas pump, his face in his hands. He made a strangled sound which after a moment Buffy identified as laughing. He looked up and tears were running down his face.

"Figures. It's all my fault. There wasn't a fight, Buffy. I was just. . . mad. The way you ran off I figured you'd gone off to go save Angel. I was just, blowing off some steam."

Buffy was both startled and frightened by Spike's tears. His voice was soft now. As if he'd been defeated; broken. She couldn't understand this Spike; she didn't know how to deal with him, so she did the only thing she knew how. She tried to get him back on the defensive. Make him fight her again. Make him stop being broken.

"And you go to a place like that? I don't see how you have any more business there than I do. Not to mention those 'girls'. Eeeew!"

"You're right," his voice was almost a whisper. "Or rather you were right. You should stay away from me."

A clicking noise told them that the tank was full. Spike got up and pulled out the nozzle, busying himself with the bike.

"I'll take you somewhere and then. . . I'll leave. Go away. . ." his voice trailed off.

"What? Why?" She pulled on his arm, spinning him around to face her. "You can't do that. I need you. What's going on, Spike?" Desperation was beginning to rise in her voice.

Before she could answer, he straightened up and he was Spike again: arrogant, egotistical, jackass (not to mention evil vampire) Spike. Buffy felt the knot that had been forming in her stomach undo.

"Right then," he said in his decision making voice. "Look we're in trouble you and me. Lou, he's not the kind to give up. He doesn't put up with trouble in his club and we caused a bunch. We can't go back. . ."

The moment the words left her lips she knew they'd been a mistake. She could see the anger flare up in Spike's eyes. Still angry Spike was better than broken Spike.

"But. . ." she thought about the long ride on the motorcycle. "We need to go back to Sunnydale. Get your car anyway."

"That's absurd! They'll be looking for us. We can't go back there, not till we have a better idea what's going on."

"Spike, we only have a few hours till sun up so, either we need a car with blacked out windows, or we'll have to call it a night soon. There's no way I can drive that," she indicated the bike.

"True, in my baby we could get farther. I suppose Lou won't know which underground garage I park it at. But we're not going to L.A." he told her, firmly.

"Pleeeeease," she begged in her best little girl voice as she purposely looked up at him through her eyelashes.

He stomped off to pay for the gas. When he came back a few minutes later he thrust out his hand under her face. He was holding a pair of knit gloves, the price tag still on them.

Buffy was stunned by the gesture. She hadn't told Spike she was cold. At that moment the five dollar pair of gloves seemed like the best present she'd ever been give.

He gave her a look that said, 'Are you daft. Bloody vampire here,' as he shrugged off his coat. As he did so he winced. Buffy once again noticed that Spike looked like he'd been in a pretty serious fight. She wondered again what had happened in the club, and how she had escaped unscathed.

"What happened, anyway?" she asked. "You don't look like the winner. And don't, 'You should see the other guy,' me."

"You were the other guy." When she just looked at him blankly, he continued. "Lou put you under some kind of obedience spell. When I tried to save you, he ordered you to kill me."

'That would explain why he looks so beat up and I don't,' thought Buffy. 'He couldn't hit back, not with the chip.'

He chuckled. "Your fist. I managed to get Lou behind me, and you to swing at me. Ducked out of the way, and when he went down, you snapped out of it."

He was obviously very proud of himself, and Buffy was rather impressed. He'd managed to fight her off and plan all at once. Of course, Spike was the best vampire fighter she knew. If he hadn't been, she would have dusted him long ago.

She nodded, and got on the bike behind him. This time the ride wasn't as bad. The gloves kept her hands warm and Spike's jacket was no longer painfully flicking against her legs. Not to mention that now she could press her cheek against his cotton clad back. It only took a few minutes for her cheek to warm him and she felt content to let him get them back to Sunnydale.

Still she was glad when they finally got to the DeSoto. She'd never have thought she could be so happy to see Spike's old car. He insisted that she get in the back and sleep until they got to L.A. He even let her keep his coat to use as a blanket.

Even so, her sleep was fitful. The events of the night still haunted her. She wasn't used to being rescued. She was the rescuer. She couldn't help but wonder how Xander and Willow did it time and time again.

Chapter 24

"Buffy, pet, wake up."

Buffy felt a hand shake her gently.

"Hmm? What?" she asked.

It took her a moment to remember where she was and why. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, but all she wanted to do was turn back over and get more sleep. The couple hour nap hadn't done her much good.

"There's a bit of a problem, luv. Have a look outside," Spike told her.

She started to reach for the handle of the door, but Spike stopped her. "Other side. Sun's up, not really looking for a tan."

She nodded groggily and turned around in the back seat, to exit on the other side of the car. She tried to be careful and not let any of the dawn light in. As she stumbled out of the car, she wondered why Spike had stopped where he had.

She was looking at a typical city block, in what she guessed was L.A. However, there was a construction site in front of them where a building was being torn down. It took her a moment to get her bearings - especially considering the building was mostly missing - but then she realized that Spike had taken her to Angel's office. Or rather Angel's old office which had been blown up.

She carefully opened the front door of the car and got in the passenger seat.

"Guess Angel didn't send you a forwarding address, huh?" Buffy asked Spike. "Someone blew up his old place. He's at a hotel now."

"You have the address?"

"Yeah. But. . . Speaking of hotels, do you think that we could maybe not go see Angel right away? I'm still really tired. I think that nap only made me sleepier. Plus I could really use a shower and stuff."

"No problem, luv," was all he said but Buffy was half-sure he was smiling.

It didn't take long for Spike to find a hotel with an underground garage. Buffy noticed that the hotel shared the garage with a shopping mall, but she didn't have any money to do any shopping, so it didn't really matter.

"Crap," she said when they got to the room.

"Something wrong, pet?"

"You know, we really should have stopped by your place to get stuff. I mean how many minions could Lou have had waiting there? There's almost no point in taking a shower, considering I'll just have to put these clothes back on," Buffy whined.

Spike reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bunch of cash. "Here." He handed her the money. "Looked like there were some stores nearby. Get some sleep and then go get yourself some clothes to wear."

"I can't. . ."

"If it bothers you, pet, pay me back. But you don't have to."

The lure of L.A. shopping was too much for Buffy. Trying not to look greedy, she took the money from Spike and put it on the table by the bed.

"Thanks," she said, then she headed into the bathroom to take her shower.

Showers always made her feel better. She used the hotel soap to scrub her skin, hoping to get rid of any trace of the demon strip joint she might carry with her. She was wary of the shampoo though and decided that she would just rinse her hair for now. When she went shopping for clothes she would get herself some shampoo and conditioner.

The hotel provided a blow dryer, which was permanently plugged into the wall, so she could dry her hair. Unfortunately, she didn't have a brush, so she had to use a comb. She added brushes, both hair and tooth, to her mental list of necessary things she needed.

When she was done fighting with her hair, she realized she had yet another lack-of-packing related problem. Nothing to sleep in. With a towel wrapped tightly around her, she peered into the main room. Spike was asleep on one of the two beds. As she had hoped, his clothes were piled on the floor by his bed.

She scurried into the room - towel clutched tight - and stole Spike's t-shirt. She slipped it on, slipped the towel off, sat on the edge of the vacant bed and looked at Spike.

While she had been showering and drying her hair, she'd had things to occupy herself with. Little things, yeah, but by concentrating on them, she'd been able to not think about some stuff. About scary stuff like the events of the evening.

After several minutes of watching Spike's still form, she called to him softly, "Spike?"

His eyes opened. He hadn't been sleeping. As he looked at her, his eyes settled for a moment on his shirt, and he smiled.

"Something I can do for you?" he asked.

'Yes, hold me. Keep me safe,' she wanted to say. But she was too scared he would laugh at her, or be mad.

Instead she asked him, "Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?" He propped his head up on one arm.

"Being alive? Being human?"

He laughed, "You really have to ask?" He cocked one eyebrow at her.

"I just thought. . . Never mind. You're right. It's stupid."

He looked at her puzzled. Studied her. She thought maybe he knew that wasn't her real question. Wasn't what she really wanted to know. Or maybe he knew she was just trying to find something to talk about so that she wouldn't have to think.

"Oranges," he said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You asked me if I missed anything. I miss oranges."

"Spike, they still have oranges. Or at least if they are going extinct, Florida's doing a real good job of covering it up."

"I know they still have oranges. They just don't taste the same. All your senses change when you become a vampire. I remember what oranges tasted like, they just don't taste that way anymore. Blood kind of does. Sweet and a little sour all at once." He drifted off a little caught in some memory. "I still get some every now and then. They smell like I remember. I peal them, and it's like I'm a little kid again on Christmas morning, an-" He stopped suddenly, embarrassed by what he'd said. "You ever tell any one I said that. . . "

"Not a living soul. Not even a dead one," Buffy promised with false solemnity. "Wouldn't want anyone to know that your mom was one of those health freaks that gave fruit instead of candy."

He looked at her like she was clueless. "It wasn't like that. Oranges were a real treat back then. Expensive. Didn't have refrigeration and airplanes and such to ship stuff all over the world. Didn't have all the confectionaries you lot have nowadays either."

"Did you just say confectionaries? Isn't that a lot of syllables for you?" Buffy teased.

Spike evidently wasn't in the mood.

"Go to sleep," he said. And turned over so he wasn't facing her.

Inwardly Buffy cursed as she got under the covers. For once she didn't want Spike to shut up. She was stuck alone with her thoughts again. With her fears. The more she thought about the part of the night she couldn't remember, the more frightened she became.

Buffy should have been used to fear. She lived with it all the time. Fear that she wouldn't get somewhere in time and that another person would die. Fear that her friends would be hurt because of her. Fear that the demon she was fighting would be the one who killed her.

But she could deal with those fears. She could confront those fears with her fists and her feet. Even magic could be fought. But how could you fight when you didn't have any will? When you had no control over what you were doing?

She hadn't been this scared since her eighteenth birthday when Giles and the council had drugged her and taken away her powers. Her fears turned over and over in her mind, refusing to let her sleep, blocking everything else out. She was working herself up into a panic, but she couldn't stop.

"Aaah!" she screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She spun around to find Spike crouching by her bed. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." He looked at her with eyes full of worry. "You all right, luv?" His voice was full of concern.

As her breathing came back under control she noticed that he had bothered to put his jeans back on. Spike wasn't known for his modesty or politeness, and she wondered what might have prompted this courtesy.

"I thought you were sleeping?" she asked weakly.

"Hard to sleep with your heart going like a snare drum."

"Sorry."

He looked at her exasperated. "It's not a problem. I just. . . What's wrong?"

She wanted to tell him, but she couldn't seem to find the words. She was terribly hungry for his comfort but the thought he might withhold it from her was too much to bear.

"Thought we were going to tell each other things, pet?" The concern in his voice was now tinted with hurt. "You know, 'Did you have that dream again?' and all that."

When she still didn't speak, he sighed, pulled the covers away from her, and crawled into bed next to her, pulling her into his arms.

She buried her face in his chest and began to sob. Once she started, she couldn't stop, and she cried until there was nothing left and she fell asleep.

Chapter 25

Buffy woke up snuggled comfortably against Spike. This was the second time she'd ended up sleeping with him after crying in his arms, and the second time she'd slept wonderfully and woken up feeling refreshed. Like things were going to be okay.

Careful not to wake him, Buffy got out of bed and got dressed. She ran a comb through her tangled hair, then grabbed the money Spike had left her and went shopping.

She had originally thought that she'd have to make do with just a couple of cheap changes of clothes, plus the toiletries she needed. It turned out, however, that Spike had left her a little more than three hundred dollars.

Her eyes lit up at the thought of all the shopping she could do. She could get herself some really nice stuff. But after she thought about it, she realized that she'd feel bad spending Spike's money on stuff she didn't really need. She'd stick to reasonably priced stuff; just get herself what she'd be likely to need while she was in L.A.

Buffy started her blitz of the stores. She moved from store to store, looking for the best deals. Since her parent's divorce, Buffy had learned how to get stylish clothes cheap. She didn't just buy stuff for herself, though. She also bought clothes for Spike. After all, he didn't have anything with him either.

She was tempted to improve on his style, but she had a feeling the two of them would find enough to fight about in L.A. without adding fashion to the list. So she just got him some plain black t-shirts and jeans.

She found a store that sold her brand of shampoo and conditioner. As she was grabbing the bottles, she noticed another brand that had a citrus scent. It was a cheap one, and there was no way she'd use it on her hair, but it gave her an idea. She started looking for an orange scented body wash. She had to go to three different shops before she found one that really did smell like oranges.

"Is it a gift?" the clerk asked as she wrung Buffy up.

"Huh?" Buffy asked.

"I just thought maybe it was a gift. Usually when people come in looking for a specific scent, but they don't know the brand, it's a gift."

"No, it's for me. I just wanted a change," Buffy said.

She hurried out of the store. 'Stupid salesperson, with her stupid questions,' Buffy thought, trying not to think about why she had decided to change what body soap she used.

She had most of what she needed, but she still had money left. It occurred to her that she should get a gift for Spike. Even if it was his money, it seemed the right thing to do. She would pay him back anyway, although she wasn't sure how. But she would find a way, and then it really would be a real gift.

The problem was, she didn't know what to get him. Suddenly the mall seemed incredibly preppy. What could she possibly find here that Spike would like? What did Spike like anyway?

She wandered from shop to shop, aimlessly. Hoping that something would reach out and grab her. That was how she found herself in a store that sold cheap jewelry and accessories, and looking at a black leather, studded dog collar. It was the only remotely Spike like thing she had seen in the whole mall, but she couldn't really see him wearing it. It was simply the most rebellious thing she'd seen in the mall.

"I hope you have the boots to go with that," a husky voice said in her ear.

Spike put his hands on her waist as he slid up behind her. Buffy could imagine what she might be wearing in his head and tried not to blush.

"I would never wear this," Buffy stammered, trying to sound stern.

"Is it for me then, luv? Thinking of chaining me to the bed?" he teased her.

Buffy could no longer keep from blushing as the thought of Spike naked, and chained to the bed in his crypt, crept into her mind.

"I was just looking. And I'm done anyway. So let's go."

"Not quite done yet. Come with me."

He led her out of the store, and through the mall to another shop that sold women's clothing. He led her straight to the department that had the formal dresses.

"What. . ?" she started to ask.

"Look, pet," he interrupted. "Sunnydale's not exactly a cultural mecca. Figure since we are here in L.A. anyway, I should take you out nice and proper. Take you to see a show. Any show you like, even if it's bloody Cats." He rolled his eyes.

"Any show I like?"

He sighed. "Whatever you want. Now get yourself a dress."

Buffy smiled at the thought of buying herself a new fancy dress. Especially from a stylish establishment like the one Spike had picked.

"Well?" Buffy asked when Spike just stood there.

"What?"

"I can't pick out a dress with you standing there. It's no fun if you see it ahead of time."

Spike thought it over for a minute, handed her some more money, and left the store. She saw him move out into the mall and hang about some benches while looking menacing and aloof.

Giddily Buffy dove into the racks. At first she worried about what sort of dress would be appropriate to wear in front of Spike. She worried again about color and cut, and what signals they might send. But all of that just gave her a headache. She knew she'd never find the right dress that way. So she put it out of her mind that the dress was for Spike, and simply chose one for herself.

Finally she found her dress, paid for it, and rejoined Spike outside.

"Finished?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes. Do we still have the hotel room?" He nodded. "Good, I want to shower again and change."

They headed back to the hotel.

After a few moments of silence Buffy asked, "So you don't like Cats?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, "The only good thing about it, is that most people think that that Andrew Lloyd Weber bloke wrote it. Even so, they ruined Rhapsody on a Windy Night."

"Huh?" Buffy asked. She had no idea what he was talking about. If Andrew Lloyd Weber hadn't written Cats who had? She was pretty sure it wasn't Rogers and Hammerstein.

"Rhapsody on a Windy Night? T.S. Eliot?"

When she still gave him a blank look he gave her his, 'You really don't know anything,' look. They had moved into the garage that was shared by the hotel and the mall. Spike stopped, closed his eyes, and began to recite:

Twelve o'clock.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Dissolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.

His voice had shifted. It softened. His accent changed, became what Buffy thought sounded more proper. Almost like Giles'. Spike had opened his eyes, but it was as if he was looking at a vision that only he could see. Or maybe reading from a book that only he knew of.

Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said, "Regard that woman
Who hesitates towards you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her dress
Is torn and stained with sand,
And you see the corner of her eye
Twists like a crooked pin."

The memory throws up high and dry
A crow of twisted things;
A twisted branch upon the beach
Eaten smooth, and polished
As if the world gave up
The secret of its skeleton,
Stiff and white.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the strength had left
hard and curled and ready to snap.

Half-past two,
The street lamp said,
"Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter."
So the hand of a child, automatic,
Slipped out and pocketed a toy that was running along the quay.
I could see nothing behind that child's eye.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.

Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp muttered in the dark.

The lamp hummed:
"Regard the moon,
La lune ne garde aucune rancune,
She winks a feeble eye,
She smiles into corners.
She smoothes the hair of the grass.
The moon has lost her memory.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone
With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain."
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars."

The lamp said,
"Four o'clock,
Here is the number on the door.
Memory!
You have the key,
The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair,
Mount.
The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,
Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life,"

The last twist of the knife.

For a moment, they were both caught in the same trance. Then suddenly Spike moved. He tucked his thumbs through his belt and looked around, embarrassed.

"Right, well. Doesn't matter," he mumbled. He set off in the direction of the hotel again as if he was in a big hurry.

"Wow," Buffy said, running to catch up to him. "How'd you learn all that?"

"People used to do that, you know. Before television. Learn things. And I didn't stop reading once I died you know."

"Oh." She didn't know what to say. "It was nice. I don't know that I get it. But it was nice," she encouraged him.

"Just forget about it." He stopped suddenly, and Buffy almost ran into his back. He spun around to look at her, his eyes glinting golden. "Not a word to Angelus."

Buffy almost corrected him, but he was too serious. If she didn't know better, she'd almost say he was scared. So she nodded.

"I promise. Not a word."

Chapter 26
Spike paced around the hotel room waiting for Buffy to finish getting ready. She'd insisted that since she'd had to put on the same clothes she'd worn the day before, she needed another shower. Then she'd proceeded to produce enough toiletries to fill a small shop.

He was actually grateful for the delay. Anything that put off seeing Angel was good. However, it left him with time to relive how much of a fool he'd made of himself just a little while earlier.

The poetry had been a horrible mistake. If life had taught him anything, it was that poetry was always a bad idea, especially where women were concerned. It didn't help that the poem made him think of Dru. Eliot always made him think of Dru.

Who knew what Buffy would think if she suspected that he'd quoted to her a poem he'd committed to memory after Dru had left him. Of all the many poems that he'd filled his head with during his life, why did it have to be that one?

At least she hadn't laughed at him. Then again, who could laugh at Eliot? Maybe. . . maybe she'd even liked it. Maybe he'd impressed her just a bit.

That was almost worse. It was one thing to look foolish in her eyes, but it was somehow worse to impress her with other people's words. He was no Christian de Neuvillette wooing a girl with stolen words. Courting her with borrowed sentiments.

Which brought up another problem. Why had he told Buffy he'd take her to any show she wanted? If he had half a brain, he would have simply told her he was taking her to the theatre. Cyrano would have been an excellent choice. Or if she was determined to see something light and musical, maybe <i>Kiss Me Kate</i> was playing. Who knew what she'd choose.

Finally the door to the bathroom opened and Buffy reemerged wearing a tank top with a loose skirt. She was carrying her dirty clothes in her hand, and moving to put them in a bag. She wasn't paying any attention to Spike at the moment, but he had his full attention on her.

She smelled like oranges. The thought slowly penetrated his brain, then rushed straight to his cock. Before she knew what had happened, Spike had her pressed against the wall and was kissing her passionately.

"Whamul?" she uttered as his tongue filled her mouth.

She returned the kiss for a moment, then her hands moved to his chest to push him gently away. He tried to keep the kiss going, but his neck was only so long, and he was forced to release her lips as his body was gently moved back from her.

The moment the kiss ended, she stopped pushing against him, and he tried a new tactic. He kissed her neck, burying his face in her hair. He took a deep breath and determined that she was still using the same shampoo, that it must have been her soap she had changed.

'For me!' the ecstatic thought came, 'She changed it for me!'

"Spike," Buffy giggled as he nibbled on her ear. "What are you doing?"

She pushed at him again, but there was no strength behind it. She was just playing with him.

"Smell nice," he mumbled as he began to kiss his way down her neck.

His hands - which had been on her waist this whole time - slipped up the back of her shirt, and began to caress the skin of her back.

"Hey," she cried with fake modesty. But she made no move to stop him, and her scent told him that she was enjoying his attention.

He kissed his way down her collabone, then looked up at her with a grin, "Bet you taste nice too."

Before she could protest, he was on his knees kissing her stomach while he reached under her skirt, to remove her panties.

"Hey," she protested again, "We have to. . . um . . ."

That obstacle removed, he lifted her left leg up, and over his shoulder, and began kissing the inside of her thighs. She giggled again as his breath tickled her.

He'd meant to go slow. He'd wanted to make her beg. Make her pay for all the silly rules, all the distance she'd kept between them. But he just wasn't that strong. Seeing her opened up before him like that, smelling the intoxicating mix of her arousal and oranges, he had to taste her.

His tongue darted out and began to lick her outer folds, eliciting a series of moans from her. One of her hands became tangled in his hair, and she held him close to her. Then he thrust his tongue into her core so he could taste her hot juices.

He moaned with delight as she gasped his name. While one hand still held her in place, the other one undid his zipper, releasing his cock from it's denim prison. He began to lightly stroke himself as his tongue circled her inside. He had no intention of making himself come yet, but he couldn't stand not to touch himself.

She began to move against him as the heel of her foot dug into his back. As her moans became louder, he pulled his tongue out from her core, and went to work on her clit.

"Oh, God!" she cried as he gently kissed her. "Spike. . . Please," she began to beg him as he flicked his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Please what?" he mumbled, making sure to direct his breath against her clit.

"I need. . . " she gasped for breath. "You. . . inside me. . . please! I can't. . . . can't take this. . . now."

He let go of his cock and got off his knees, taking her leg down from his shoulder, then wrapping it around his waist, as he stood up. With his other hand he cupped her face, and he looked her dead in the eye.

"Say it again. Tell me what you need." His voice came out demanding, but inside he was begging her. He was anything but sure.

Her eyes met his for a moment, before she closed them and whimpered with need.

"You. I need you!"

That was enough for Spike. He plunged into her.

But Buffy wasn't done yet. "Take me! Fuck me!"

Her pussy had become wondrously tight from lack of use. Even so her hot depths sucked him in greedily. As he slid into her, she wrapped her other leg around him. As the last bit of his length filled her, he pressed up against her pushing her clit against his pelvic bone.

"Make me yours," she screamed as the orgasm hit her. "YES!"

Her body convulsing around him was incredible. It threatened to pull him over the edge and it took every bit of control he had not to follow her.

"Spike! Claim me! Take me!" her litany continued as she passed the peak of her orgasm.

He had begun to move inside of her, a slow rhythm so as to draw out the experience of being inside her. But her words grabbed him in a deeper way than even her body could. The demon roared forth, eager at the invitation she had given him. As his own body began to shake with his orgasm, his fangs sank into her neck.

Hot blood, sweeter than any he had ever tasted greeted his tongue. Even if he hadn't been aroused, he thought he would have come at the taste of her blood. But he didn't bite deep. It wasn't a conscious decision, he was long past rational thought. But neither was he a fledgling. His fangs only barely broke her skin. He was trying to mark her, not hurt her.

She gasped with pleasure when he bit her, he could feel her body start to respond to him in all the right ways. Which was why he was so surprised when she pushed him away and he hit the floor.

He looked up to see Buffy standing there with a look of revulsion on her face and one hand on her neck covering the bite.

"What did. . ? Why . . ? You bit me," Buffy accused him.

His face reverted to his human form, the demon driven away by the fear that he'd messed things up, and by a sensation Spike was not used to. Shame.

"You told me to. You asked. . ." he defended himself. But he felt guilty. It was an old, unfamiliar feeling.

"When. . ? What on earth would make you think I wanted you to bite me?" There was a touch of hysteria in her voice.

Spike flinched. How had he done this? How had he gotten things so wrong. He hadn't meant to, but it was clear that he had hurt her.

"You said," came his weak defense. "You asked me to claim you."

"What are you talking about. I said. . . I don't know what I said, but how does that translate into make me a snack."

"I wasn't trying to eat you!" Spike snapped, before the absurdity of the statement hit him. "I mean. . ." He stopped, and suddenly things came clear to Spike. "You don't know what a claim is, do you?"

The blank look on her face told him all he needed to know.

"Bloody idiots." He zipped his pants back up, got to his feet, and began to pace. His other emotions where displaced by rage at the other men in Buffy's life. "Can't believe your Watcher never told you about the claim. Not as if you were the bloody Slayer. Not as if you didn't date a bloody vampire."

"Hello? Spike? Topic?"

"Right, look pet. The claim. It's something vampire's do. The claim, it would mark you, make you mine. It shouldn't have hurt. Did it hurt?"

"No, that's not the point. You don't go around just biting people." She paused as a new thought hit her. "The chip?! It's not working."

"Of course it's working. Damn thing nearly split my head open last night when I was trying to save you. I wasn't trying to hurt you, would never hurt you. That's why it didn't go off."

Buffy just started at him for a minute, then she backed into the bathroom and closed the door on him.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Buffy looked at herself in the mirror, examining her newest wounds. The marks on her neck weren't bad, they should heal quickly, but not quickly enough. Now she was glad that she had bought a turtleneck. She'd have to change, anyway. She couldn't see Angel in her current state.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. Her heart was beating a mile a minute; she could hear it pounding in her ears. She could still remember the feel of Spike's fangs, how nice it had been.

If she had been anyone other than the Slayer, she would have succumbed. She would have let him drink her dry, but an alarm had gone off. Some slayer sense that responded to Spike's bite as an attack.

It hadn't felt like an attack though. It had felt like sex. Felt like something deep and powerful and primal. She couldn't argue with Spike's chip logic, either. He hadn't meant to hurt her. Still, she felt betrayed. Whether by herself or by him she wasn't sure.

Claim. The word both attracted and repelled her. She was the Slayer; she could never belong to a vampire.

But she was also Buffy. A girl. The thought of belonging to someone was wonderful. It's what she'd always wanted. To be a couple. To be part of something that was more than just her. To be connected.

That's why she'd bought the citrus body wash, she now realized. She'd already started to mark herself as Spike's. She closed her eyes and remembered for a moment how wonderful it had felt when Spike had reacted so passionately to the new scent. She'd been afraid he wouldn't even notice. Guys never noticed it when you did stuff like that for them. But he had, and he'd liked it, and she'd liked his liking it.

But maybe the claim didn't mean all that. She'd never heard of it before, and she was pretty mad at both Giles and Angel for overlooking that part of her education. Maybe a claim was just a fancy vampire term for brand. Maybe it was just a way of marking a favorite human to feed off of.

There was only one solution Buffy could see. She would clean herself up and they would go see Angel. If she was busy worrying about him, she wouldn't have time to worry about herself.

A/N I don't see BtVS 5 and AtS 2 being exactly lined up, so this chapter interrupts AtS in the middle of Dear Boy. After Angel sees Darla on the promenade but before he sees her in the daylight while working on an adultery case. Wesley and Cordelia know that Angel has been dreaming of Darla and thinks that he has seen her, but they think he's just seeing things.

Chapter 27:

They drove in silence to Angel's hotel. Spike didn't dare speak. He was too angry. Angry at just about everyone. How was he supposed to know that the Slayer didn't know about claiming? It drove him crazy to think he'd been so close to having her, and had ruined it so quickly.

There was just one thing that gave him hope, even if it was only a tiny sliver. Buffy had showered again and insisted that he do the same before they saw Angel. But she hadn't gone back to using the hotel soap. She'd used the orange stuff again.

"This the place?" he asked her.

"It looks right. Haven't been here yet."

Spike nodded, and noticed that Angel wasn't considerate enough to have covered parking. He reached into the back seat and grabbed the blanket he kept there for just these occasions.

Buffy got out of the car. He waited until she got to the door, so he wouldn't have to knock her down, and then made a dash for the entrance. As soon as he was inside he threw the blanket on the floor, and stamped out the flames.

"NO!" he heard Buffy scream, at the same time that the shrill voice of Cordelia announced, "SPIKE!"

He looked up just in time to see a crossbow bolt whizzing toward him. Luckily he hadn't burnt his hands too badly, so he was able to catch it, just before it would have hit him in the chest.

"Nice shot," he said to the large black man holding the crossbow. His voice was calm, almost bored, but Spike was sizing up the other fellow, and didn't like what he saw. The man who'd just tried to stake him was young, but everything about him spoke of a confidence that came from surviving many battles. Not to mention the shot had been spot on. If Buffy hadn't warned him, he'd be a pile of dust.

"Stop wait!" Buffy ordered as she stepped between Spike and the black man. "It's okay he's with me."

"And you would be. . ?" he asked.

"Buffy! I knew it was you," Cordelia said. "Angel acting all crazy. What else could be the cause."

"Huh?" asked the black man. He never took his eyes off of Spike though, and calmly loaded another bolt into the crossbow.

"Buffy is the Slayer, and Angel's former. . ." said a British voice. "Although what she could possibly be doing with William the Bloody I cannot fathom."

The newcomer, Spike decided instantly, was not a threat. Even if he did have 'Watcher' stamped all over him like he'd just stepped out of the tweed factory.

"Hey Wesley," Buffy greeted him. "Look about Spike. It's okay. He drove me here, and he's harmless."

"Am not!" Spike protested.

"He's a vamp, ain't he?" the black man asked.

"Yeah, but the military, they put a chip in his head. He can't harm anyone. Anyone human at least."

"Are you sure Buffy?" Wesley asked.

"Would I be traveling with a vampire if he wasn't safe?" Buffy asked.

Gunn lowered his crossbow, but didn't put it down. Spike decided this was an opportune time to go grumble in the corner. Did she really have to call him safe? True, he didn't particularly want to get into a brawl with Gunn, but still, a fellow had his pride.

However, he didn't grumble for long. Something else, something far more interesting caught his attention. Low moans, moans he remembered from over a century ago. He would bet his fangs that somewhere upstairs, Darla and Angel were having sex.

He made his way upstairs, trying not to attract much attention. Of course that was made easier by the grilling Buffy was receiving from Angel's sidekicks.

He became doubly sure of what was going on once he got to the top of the stairs. Now he could smell them. Carefully, quietly he crept down the hallway, careful not to make a sound that a fellow vampire could hear. He paused outside the door, to confirm it was the right one, and that his suspicions had been correct.

"Spike what are you doing?" Buffy called out loudly behind him.

He hadn't noticed the conversation downstairs stopping, or the others following him. He'd been intent on what was happening on the other side of the door.

"Hey! That's Angel's room," pointed out Cordelia.

Inside he could hear hurried scuffling. Obviously the two of them didn't want to get caught. Spike on the other hand could think of nothing more pleasant at the moment than further ruining Angel's fun. Without a second thought he burst through the door and was greeted with the unpleasant sight of naked Angel, lying asleep on the bed.

He rushed to catch Darla who was trying to make her escape. He grabbed her arm. Unfortunately, although Spike had forgotten Darla was human, his chip knew it, and went off.

"Ahhhhhh!" he screamed as he clutched his head.

"Huh? Spike? Hey what are you. . ?" Angel said as he woke up. Then he realized he was naked and erect, and made a desperate grab for the blankets to cover himself up.

"Darla!" Buffy and Cordelia yelled in unison as they appeared in the doorway.

"Oh God!" Gunn said, as he backed out of the room covering his eyes.

Buffy tried to make a dash for Darla, but ran into Spike, and Darla made it out the window and down the fire escape. Buffy leaned out the window, looking for some sign of Darla, but she was gone.

"Everyone out!" yelled Angel.

"Sorry," Buffy said sheepishly, trying not to look at Angel as she pulled Spike out of the room.

They all stood around awkwardly as they waited for Angel to dress.

"You know, I'd always heard that Darla was a better shag than that. Course Angel always was about as observant as a log." Spike chuckled.

"I heard that!" Angle shouted through the door.

Spike rolled his eyes. "I meant you to, you bloody git. You're not the only vampire here remember?"

An angry Angel emerged from the room. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept in a week. His shirt was untucked, and his hair ungelled.

"What are you doing here, Buffy? And why the hell did you bring Spike?" Angel demanded.

"I came to warn you about Darla. Spike drove me here."

Inwardly, Spike winced. He hadn't expected Buffy to call him her boyfriend or anything, but he thought he deserved more than simply being allocated to the role of taxi driver.

"How did you know about Darla, Buffy?" Wesley asked, trying to get the conversation under control.

"Spike told me. He saw her at Wolfram & Hart."

"Okay, so not only is he a vampire, but he hangs out at Wolfram & Hart. Why are we not staking him again?" Gunn asked.

"Good point. I'll go get the stake," Angel said.

"Stop. No one stakes Spike. Are we clear?" Buffy looked at them each in turn.

"What?!" Cordelia said. "Hello, have we forgotten about the torturing of Angel, not to mention the numerous times he tried to kill us back in Sunnydale?"

"No, I mean he did all that but. . . " Buffy stopped looking for a justification. "He's my ride?" she offered weakly.

Spike had never wanted to tear her head off so much since he'd met her.

"Tell you what. I'll make this easy for you lot. I'll leave." Spike stormed down the stairs.

He got downstairs, realized it was still daylight out, and stopped. He figured Angel must have sewer access somewhere. He looked around the lobby and noticed the door to the basement. Just as he opened the door and stepped into the darkness Buffy put her hand on his arm and stopped him.

"You're coming back right?"

He almost snapped at her that is she needed a ride she could call a real taxi, but then he looked at her and saw how vulnerable she was. 'She probably just can't stand another bloke walking out on her, even is she doesn't want him,' he thought. But he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't hurt her. It was enough to know that he could if he wanted to.

"I'll be back. Tonight. Just need to stretch my legs."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She smiled, nodded, and let him go.

Chapter 28

Buffy turned around and found herself face to face with Angel, who didn't look very happy.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded as he yanked the neck of her sweater away from her throat.

"OW!" she cried.

There hadn't been any Band-Aids at the hotel, so she had simply patted the bite marks on her neck dry. However, some of the fuzz from the turtle neck had stuck to the wounds, and the scabs reopened when Angel had yanked on the fabric. True that on the scale of Buffy injuries, this wasn't all that bad - but it was the principle of the thing.

"I just don't get it. Everyone tells me to leave Sunnydale. 'Spike's not a threat.' 'Don't worry about, Buffy. She can take care of herself.' And now I find he's biting you!"

"It's not what you thing. It was an accident."

"Let me guess. You 'accidentally' fell on his fangs."

"No, it. . . It's none of your business."

"And yet you bring Spike into my hotel and- Hey!"

Angel turned around to find Cordelia poking him with a stake.

"You're not evil, are you?" she asked holding up a cross in her other hand.

"What?! No! Stop that." Angel raised his hands, ineffectually trying to fend Cordelia off.

After a moment she seemed satisfied and put down the stake and cross. She walked back over to him and hit him across the back of his head.

"What the hell were you thinking? Do you want to get the big happy, and go all grrr?" Cordelia asked him.

"No!" Angel protested. "It wasn't like that. I didn't even know she was there. I mean, I thought I was dreaming."

Cordelia glared at him, unconvinced. Deciding he was safe for the moment, Angel turned back to Buffy. Before he could say anything more, Cordelia interrupted once again.

"Not that we wouldn't all love to watch you two get all movie of the week," she said sarcastically. "But we do have a case, remember. You know, the things that pay the bills around here?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

It didn't take long for Spike to find himself a demon bar to hang out in. The sewers of every major city had signs for such establishments in them, if you knew what to look for. He hadn't been there long when trouble found him.

Lou had put a price on his head, and a couple vampires had decided to collect. Spike welcomed the distraction. A good fight was just what he needed to work some of his frustration over his relationship, or lack thereof, with Buffy.

Not to mention that, as long as Lou kept sending demons after him, Spike felt he was pretty safe. Demons, vampires and assorted monsters he could handle. If Lou smartened up, though, and sent humans after him, Spike would be in trouble.

After tossing one of his brethren out the door and into the sunlight, and staking a second, the rest of the bar decided to leave him alone.

At least he thought they had until he sat back down at his table and a woman asked, "Mind if I join you?"

"Actually, I do."

He didn't know who it was, and he didn't care. At the moment he wanted nothing to do with the entire female sex. The woman sat down anyway. Annoyed he bothered to look at her. He knew her, but it took him a moment to figure out where from. Then it hit him. She was the female lawyer who'd been with Darla.

"Bollocks." He didn't want anything to do with Wolfram & Hart. "What the bloody hell do you want?"

"Just to offer you a job."

"Not looking for one. . . "

"Lilah. Lilah Morgan."

"That's right. How could I forget. What, was it your parent's fondest wish that you should be evil? Didn't really give you much choice with a name like that did they?"

"Is this the part where I blame my parents for my wicked ways?" she asked with a face with wide-eyed innocence. Then her voice hardened. "Sorry, I got where I got all by my lonesome."

"Still doesn't mean you have anything I want."

"Oh, but I think we do, Spike. Help us out, and we'll remove your chip."

Spike couldn't help but be startled by the offer. No chip meant he didn't have to worry about humans any more. He could protect Buffy, even from the likes of Lou. He could be free again.

"And just what would I have to do for you?"

"Nothing hard. You see, a couple months ago Angel stole something very valuable from us. A very old, one of a kind scroll. We want it back."

"Seems to me you could get your own people to steal it back for you. Why me?"

"True, there's just one problem. We don't want Angel to know it's gone. At least not right away. If any of our people stole it, they'd leave their scent behind. But if Angel smells you in his office, he'll just figure you were snooping around."

Spike sat there for a minute, Thinking over what she had said. It seemed to make sense, and yet he couldn't help but be suspicious. There must be more in it for Wolfram & Hart.

"So what's this scroll, anyway?" he asked.

"A prophecy about the end of the world, and oh yeah, a vampire with a soul. Let's just say our people weren't done studying it when Angel stole it. He keeps it in a safe in his office. The safe is behind a painting on the wall behind his chair. The safe shouldn't give you any problems. It's nothing fancy, not much different than the one you broke into in, 1932 was it?"

He nodded. It bothered him to think they'd been watching his actions so closely. No need to let them know that though.

"So all you do is crack the safe, grab the scroll - it's in an ivory container, you can't miss it - and head out the front door and south for two blocks. There will be a semi parked in an empty lot. We'll have a mobile surgical unit set up, and you'll get your chip out then and there. Easy as pie."

"How do I know you won't double cross me?"

"Cause we're evil of course." When he looked unconvinced she continued, "I'm a criminal defense lawyer at Wolfram & Hart. Do you know what that means? It means that every day I put in long hard hours making sure that 'innocent'," she indicated the quotes with her fingers, "Men go free. Like you. You may not be in jail, but that chip is like a muzzle, keeping you from following your natural instincts. If we take that chip out and you have your self a massacre, hey, I'll probably get a bonus."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"That bit about leaving his scent, that was very nice, Lilah," Holland Manners told her. "Do you think he'll do it?"

"To get the chip out? He'll do it. And once he starts killing, the Slayer will be too busy hunting him down to worry about Angel and Darla. Not to mention, we'll get the Shanshu prophecy back, so hey, bonus."

"What if he doesn't kill?" Lindsey asked.

"He's a vampire, of course he'll kill. And if he doesn't, all we have to do is let Miss Goody-Two-Shoes know he had the chip removed, and she'll try and kill him anyway," Lilah said with complete assurance.

"Lilah's right," Holland agreed. "Although this Slayer is more flexible than many of her predecessors, she still sees the world as black and white; soul or no soul. She won't suffer an unrestrained vampire to live."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Life as a private eye? Pretty boring, Buffy had decided. She'd trailed along with Angel's gang when they'd gone to a hotel to find out if some guy's wife was cheating on him. She was, but first they had to sit around in the lobby for hours waiting for her to show up.

Things had gotten a little more interesting when Darla had showed up, pretending to be just some girl. She'd actually gotten hotel security to stop Angel. Treating him like a stalker. Now Angel had gone off on a mad hunt for Darla. Buffy had tried to help him, but he had pulled one of his disappearing acts on her.

That had really pissed her off. First of all, he'd just sort of stranded her in the sewers. By the time she'd found her way out of the stinky underground tunnels, it was already dark, and she was in a part of L.A. she wasn't familiar with. It had taken her almost an hour to find a pay-phone which still had its phonebook. Finally, she'd gotten in touch with Wesley and he was on his way to pick her up.

More than anything else, the thing that made Buffy mad was that Angel wouldn't talk to her. It had to mean something to him, Darla coming back from the dead. And human to boot. But he wouldn't say a word on the subject. All man of mystery.

She hated that. It had been cool when she was sixteen. Well, except for all the times it had nearly gotten her killed. Like when he'd first shown up in Sunnydale and said, "Beware the Harvest." Like she was just supposed to know all her ancient vampire rituals. Even Giles had to look that up. It was bad enough that he was that secretive about life and limb 'end of the world' stuff. Trying to get him to open up about emotional things was about as easy as getting Anya to shut up about her and Xander's sex life.

"Buffy?" a black SUV pulled up next to her and Wesley stuck his head out the window.

"Hey, thanks a bunch," she said as she climbed into the car.

"Of course. Are you all right?"

"Just kind of worn out."

She buckled up her seat belt. For a moment she stared out the window. Her left hand crossed her chest in an unconscious gesture, and she began to tug on the seat belt with her thumb and forefinger.

"There's like a Watcher/Slayer confidentiality thing, isn't there?" she asked him.

"Actually, no. A Watcher is supposed to report anything of consequence to the Council. However, I'm not a Watcher anymore," Wesley added. "And I always keep my friends confidences."

Buffy nodded. "Do you know about claiming?"

Wesley cleared his throat. Buffy rather suspected that if he wasn't driving he would have cleaned his glasses.

"Well, um, yes. What the Council taught me anyway. It's a very complex subject, misunderstood by the Council for generations. When a vampire claims someone, it leaves a mystical marking on the claimed that other vampires can sense. The claimed is understood to be off limits for feeding -if they are human- and. . . sex, if it is another vampire. If another vampire violates the claim, that vampire is marked and can be hunted down by the vampire who initiated the claim."

"So it's like being branded?"

"Not at all. In fact that was the crucial mistake the Council made for many years. Vampires are very territorial, as you know, and yet claiming is very rare. You see the claiming effects the vampire more than the claimed. The vampire gains a sort of physical awareness of the claimed. They can always locate their mate, and they experience what the claimed experiences."

"So they can read the person's mind?"

"No, not ESP. Rather the vampire experiences the physical experiences of the claimed. How intense those sensations are varies depending on how recently the claim was made or renewed, and the distance between the two.

"That's the reason the claim is so rare. The most common type of claiming is a sire claiming a childe, but that it only done after the childe has been around for some time and is - for lack of a better phrase - well trained. A Sire is greatly limited in his ability to punish his childe if he will experience some degree of the punishment himself.

"Of course, vampires don't react to pain quite the same way we do. I'm sure you've noticed that vampires can usually shrug off pain not caused by fire, holy water, crosses and sunlight. However, if a vampire claims a human, they experience that human's pain the same way the human does.

"That fact has lead to fascinating and diverse uses of the claim throughout vampire society. Many vampires shun the whole notion, fearing it will make them vulnerable to their enemies. Supposedly there is a master vampire in the Balkans who claims a human once every hundred years, then allows his followers to torture the human to death. Just to prove how strong he is. There have even been stories of female vampires who keep heavily guarded harems of claimed men so that. . . Um, well. Anyway, you get the idea."

"Yeah. I get the idea. Thanks," Buffy told him.

For several minutes they drove on in silence.

"Buffy," Wesley said as he pulled up outside the hotel. "I know it's none of my business and perhaps I'm completely mistaken, but if you allow Spike to claim you, you'll never be rid of him. There's no going back; no changing your mind."

She got out of the car.

"Thanks again for the ride, and everything. You won't mention this to Angel?"

"Not a word. In fact, I think I prefer he not know about this more than you."

She nodded, waved, and went inside the Hyperion. Worn out, she collapsed on the ottoman. There were no vampire's in the hotel, so she lay there, her mind mulling over what Wesley had said, as she waited for Spike to come back.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 29
Things had gone perfectly. The lady from Wolfram & Hart, Lilah, had been right about everything.

The hotel had been empty when Spike had gotten there. He'd gone straight to the office and cracked the safe easily. Vampire hearing had many advantages, the ability to hear the tumblers in a lock was just one.

After he'd grabbed the scroll, he'd made sure to rummage around the office a bit. Leave his scent all over the stuff on the desk. That way Angel would figure he was just snooping. Not that there was anything worth snooping into. It was all billing and ledgers. Boring business stuff, although there were a couple of occult books on the shelf that Spike thought might fetch a pretty penny.

However, Spike didn't need the money, and he knew nothing ruined a capper quicker than getting overly greedy. Get in; get out. That was the rule.

The lorry was waiting for him, and inside was a tiny hospital, just like he'd been promised. He was a bit nervous, letting people cut into his skull, but they did what they promised. He shoved one of the human doctors on the way out just to be sure.

It took every ounce of evil in Spike to keep him from skipping and whistling down the street once he left the lorry.

He reentered the hotel and found Buffy asleep on the ottoman, curled around the center. He knelt down in front of her and watched her sleeping form. So beautiful, so fragile, so delicate. When she was asleep it was hard to imagine all the strength her slight frame contained, all the pain.

As carefully as he could, he lifted her up into his arms. He followed the trail she'd left earlier in the day to the room she'd taken for her own, and put her stuff in. Gently he laid her down on the bed.

As he set her head down on the pillow, her eyes fluttered open. "You came back." She sounded surprised.

"Told you I would. Have you been in the sewers?"

"Do I smell?" she sat up and tried to sniff herself. "I smell, don't I?"

"No, not at all."

"Liar." She took one of his hands in hers and ran her thumb over the back of his hand. "Is tomorrow night good?"

"For what?"

"You said you'd take me out. I got tickets; tomorrow at 5:00."

"What sort of show starts at five?"

"It's a surprise. Don't you trust me?" she gave him a wicked grin. Then her face became serious. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he couldn't seem to get a finger on her mood.

"For earlier, for freaking out. I. . . I didn't know about all that claiming stuff and. . . well. . . I AM the Slayer. It was just an instinct thing, you know?"

"I know a thing or two about that. It's okay, pet." Part of him wanted to give her a hard time, but mostly he was just so surprised by the whole turn of events that he figured he should just go with it. "What brought all this on, anyhow?"

"Let's just say, a day in the sewer gives a girl a new perspective on her love life."

"Gee thanks."

"That's not what. . . I need to shower and sleep. Go away while we still like each other," she joked.

He nodded, kissed her on the forehead, and left to find a room as far away from Angel's as possible.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

It had been a long and very boring day. Angel hadn't come back and the sun was up. Spike had nothing to do but watch his minions scurry about, trying to suss out why Wolfram & Hart had brought Darla back. That might have been somewhat entertaining, but Buffy was worried too. She paced back and forth over the hotel lobby, coming up with all the things that might have happened.

Finally, Spike had offered to take Buffy through the sewers to look for the missing Poof, but she'd said something about having seen enough of L.A.'s sewers to last a life time, and gone on pacing.

Around three thirty he had to stop her in her pacing and remind her they were supposed to be going out.

"But Angel isn't-"

He put a finger to her lips.

"He's a big boy. He'll be fine. Bet you anything that five minutes after sundown he strolls right through those doors. Besides, thought you were looking forward to tonight? Got tickets and everything. You wouldn't want to miss out on whatever torture you've set up for me, eh?"

She smiled at that, and went to get dressed. He did the same. He was wrong, though, it wasn't five minutes after sundown that Angel came back. It was fifteen.

Spike was hanging out down by the front desk - trying not to be self conscious in his tuxedo as Gunn made fun of him - when Angel brooded his way through the door.

Angel was half way up the stairs when he noticed that instead of his leather duster, Spike was wearing a long black overcoat coving his tux. Angel just stared for a moment, shrugged, and turned to go back upstairs.

As if the angel of bad timing was watching over them, Buffy chose that moment to make her appearance. She wore a red silk dress with a v-neck that Spike thought displayed her cleavage to its full advantage. It didn't have sleeves, instead two large straps continued the 'v' of the neck, settled just off her shoulders.

The skirt was belted with a red sash and hung down to her knees. The bottom hem wasn't quite straight though, and the slight ruffle made the skirt look like an upside down rose bud. It was the sort of dress that just begged you to run your hands over all the lovely curves of the girl wearing it.

Buffy had fully done herself up. She almost always wore makeup, but Spike thought she might have taken extra care this time. Her full lips had been colored to match the dress; she had just the slightest blush to her cheeks, and just a hint of eye shadow to bring out her emerald eyes.

She had put her hair up, too, into a french twist revealing the graceful sweep of her neck. Her bare neck called to him. He wondered if she had any idea that she was all but wearing a 'bite me' sign. She was every vampires fantasy. The most beautiful delectable thing Spike had ever seen.

That's when it occurred to him for the first time. He could bite again. No more chip. If he wanted he could take Buffy out back and drain her dry. He wouldn't of course. He would never hurt her. As desperate as he was to taste her blood, he vowed to himself that his fangs would never again touch her unless she asked for them.

But that wasn't the point. All day long he'd listened to that Cordelia girl whine and complain about this that and the other, and he'd never thought of biting her - and she was a fairly bitable creature. He could now easily snap Wesley and Gunn's necks, but he'd never even considered using violence against them. He hadn't even thought of picking off an innocent bystander. Nothing stood between him and the bloodshed he'd so loved, yet he hadn't even considered killing anyone.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a growl from Angel, who'd stayed frozen on the stairs, looking up at Buffy. Spike became aware that Buffy's appearance had had a similar effect on every man in the room. He was willing to bet that they were all having similar fantasies about grabbing her by her hips, shoving her against a wall, and shagging her senseless. The difference was, Spike was the one who had a real hope of living out that fantasy.

She was dressed up for him, not for Angel, and he could tell that was driving Angel nuts.

She started down the stairs. As she passed Angel, he grabbed her elbow and growled at her, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out. With Spike," she said coldly. She tried to move past him, but he still held her arm. "Let go."

When he didn't comply, she yanked her arm out of his grasp and then elbowed him in the stomach. He was so much taller than her, that she was forced to angle the blow upward, and it sent him backward over the railing of the stairs and crashing down to the floor.

A moment ago, Spike would not have thought he could have been more attracted to her. He was wrong. The effortless way she dealt with Angel reminded him that this tiny woman was the strongest, most dangerous person in the room. His fantasy changed to one of her throwing him to the ground, ripping off his clothes, and riding hard and fast.

He moved forward to meet her and offered her his hand to guide her down the last few steps. She smiled at him as she took it. He led her out toward the hotel entrance. Just as they got to the door, he looked back at where Angel was picking himself up off the floor.

"Don't wait up," Spike said.

Then he leaned over and kissed Buffy lightly on the neck. His lips barely grazed her skin, but even so, her heart sped up a little. He smirked at Angel over her shoulder. It was a symbolic gesture. Whenever Angelus had taken Drusilla away from Spike, he'd always bitten her neck to reinforce the fact that Dru belonged to him and not Spike.

Once they were outside he stopped and faced her.

"Where are my manners? You look. . . gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe it."

"Thanks," she said graciously. "You look pretty wonderful yourself."

She pinched the button flap of his shirt and ran the joints of her fingers down his chest. Her tongue peaked out from between her red lips, and her pupils dilated slightly. He could smell the beginnings of her arousal. Spike was suddenly filled with hope that she'd forget about the show and take him on the hood of his DeSoto. But then she took a step back.

"We're going to be late," she said with a touch of regret.

He held the car door open for her and helped her in.

When she gave him the address he asked her, "Are you sure that's right?"

She nodded, but suddenly she was very nervous.

"So what is it we're going to see, anyway?" When she didn't answer, he pushed a little harder. "Come on, pet. I'm about to find out anyway. Promise I won't turn the car around. I'm committed to. . . whatever it is you've chosen."

She took a deep breath, "Okay, you know how you told me about the oranges and stuff?" He nodded. "Well I thought. . . you see. . . It'stheiceshowokay?" she finished in one breath.

Not sure what to say, he just glanced at her and cocked an eyebrow.

"Look, it's not what you think. It's not just cartoon characters. Some of them are olympic athletes, and the things is. . . my dad. . . he used to take me when I was a kid, for my birthday. What you said about oranges, that's how I feel about the ice show. It was. . . it was our special thing. Even Dawn only came one time, but she was scared by the giant mouse and. . . "

"Dawn?" he asked.

"You know, Dawn? My bratty kid sister."

"Right. Of course. Thought you said something else."

'Bugger,' he thought. 'They messed up my brain digging that chip out.' How could he have forgotten about the 'bit?

"So anyway, I thought. . . I wanted to share something from my childhood with you. You know, something special. You're not mad are you?"

"No, luv. I'm not mad."

Actually he was rather - thrilled wasn't the right word - but happy that she would choose to share something personal with him. Bring him in on one of her private rituals. And he figured he could survive this, and her birthday wasn't until January, so he'd have about four months until he'd have to endure this again.

Chapter 30:

A/N My website has moved. It's now at http://www.dark-desire.org/ld/ Thanks to Mandi for hosting me and making me a lovely new banner.

Buffy couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. She'd been nervous about bringing Spike to the ice show, afraid he wouldn't understand. But he seemed to. Plus, she'd really missed going on her last birthday.

She watched the skaters dance on the ice and remembered long abandoned dreams of being a professional ice skater herself.

She shivered a little; she should have brought a coat, but she hadn't thought of it. Spike slipped his overcoat off and draped it over the both of them. He put one arm around her waist, and drew her in closer. His other hand rested lightly between her knees.

"Hey. Cold," she protested, quietly.

"Trying to warm up."

Buffy figured since he was sharing his coat with her, she could share some of her body heat with him. His hand rested there for several minutes, slowly becoming warm again. Then it began to slide up her leg.

"Hey," she hissed at him, trying not to draw attention.

The tips of his fingers traced a circle on the crotch of her panties.

"You can't do that here," she whispered sternly.

"Just watch the show, pet. No one will know."

She swallowed hard. Torn between wanting him to touch her more, and fear of being discovered. Since she couldn't think of a way to make him stop that wouldn't cause a scene, she resigned herself to letting him play with her.

After tracing her outlines, his fingers moved inside her panties and began to explore her folds. He moved from her outer folds and circled inward until finally, two of his fingers dipped inside of her.

His touch was slow and gentle as he moved his fingers in an out of her. Time seemed to slow down. For an eternity he seemed to move in and out of her, although it was probably only a few minutes. Then his thumb played lightly over her clit.

There was a slow languorous build, as her body became more and more sensitized to his touch. It was driving her a little crazy. She wanted him to touch her harder, but knew he couldn't without giving away what they were doing. Her hand gripped his leg tightly, the only outlet she could allow herself.

She tried to ignore him, to concentrate on the show, but his fingers kept drawing her back. Her eyes were on the skaters, but she wasn't seeing them. Instead she saw herself straddling Spike. It wasn't his fingers inside of her, it was his cock.

The fantasy played itself out before her eyes, building with the sensation of Spike moving in and out of her. She'd never been pleasured this slowly before. The slow build was agonizing and there was no surprise when her orgasm hit, so she had more than enough warning to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out.

It certainly wasn't the most intense orgasm she'd ever had, but having one in the middle of all these people. Parents with their children. Getting away with it in front of all of them caused a certain wicked excitement that she told herself she shouldn't love - but she did.

There was only one thing to do.

"You are so going to get it," she whispered in Spike's ear.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

He was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. He knew it.

What had he been thinking, fingering the Slayer in the middle of all the kiddies and their families? She was all righteousness and goodness and teddy bears and Christmas. No way she'd go in for that sort of thing, even if they had gotten away with it clean.

The intermission came, giving children an opportunity to whine their way into ownership of new toys the show had made them want.

Buffy grabbed his hand and led him out into the halls that surrounded the arena. She dragged him roughly, with purpose.

'Bugger,' he thought. 'She's not going to even let me finish watching the show before she dusts me.' On second thought he decided that that was really a kindness.

She led him to a door marked, 'Janitor'. She grabbed the handle and he heard a cracking sound as she broke the lock. She dragged him inside.

"Block the door," she ordered. "And give me your coat."

Hoping that complying would buy him some forgiveness, he handed her the coat he'd used to hide their less than wholesome activities. She set about folding the coat with the kind of ingenuity reserved for cartoon rabbits setting a trap for the hunter. Spike had never regretted being the hunter so much in his life.

"If you're not going to block the door, then at least stand in front of it," she told him.

When he did so, she put the folded bundle that was his coat on the floor in front of him. Then she knelt down on top of it. Before he could ask her what she was doing, her hands unzipped his fly and grabbed his cock.

Her cold hand held him as her hot tongue began to lick him. He groaned as he sprang to attention. Then her mouth was around him, engulfing him, sucking him. The sensation overwhelmed him, nearly knocking him over as his knees went weak.

"God Buffy, slow down," he begged her.

As much as he'd dreamed about it, he'd never really expected to have the Slayer on her knees in front of him. He wanted this to last.

She pulled back and for just a moment she gave him a pouty look.

Then her face lit up. "Tell me how you want it," she invited.

For a moment he was confused. Then he remembered their first night together, what seemed like a lifetime ago. That night had been all about experimentation. All about Buffy shedding her inexperience and trying out the things she'd been too scared to ask for. He supposed it shouldn't surprise him that she was inexperienced here as well. It wasn't as if a blowjob was necessarily the most intuitive thing. For the hundredth time, he was amazed at what an idiot soldier boy must have been. To have this amazing woman and never encourage her to try the full range of experiences.

"Hold it again, at the base," he told her. "Uhhh yeah, just like that. Stoke it a little. Now, lick the head."

She leaned forward and her tongue swirled around the tip of his cock. The contrast between her cool hands and her hot tongue was amazing. Then she began to trace the outline of his head with her tongue.

"Like that?" she asked.

He nodded, and looked down into her emerald eyes. They were wide and innocent and open. She looked so eager to please him; he thought that look alone might make him come.

"Suck it, just the tip though, baby."

She smiled, then the tip of his cock passed though those ruby red lips. Her hand slowly, lazily stroked him as she sucked lightly. Her tongue pressed against the top, and he trembled.

Then her mouth released him again.

"Can I have more?" she asked.

He was completely without will. He could deny her nothing. He just had to get his cock back in her mouth.

"Yeah, take it. Whatever you want."

Her mouth was back on him, and slowly she took more and more of him. She began to pull him in and out of her mouth, her hand mimicking the action. The sensation as his cock passed from the heat of her mouth into her cool hands was incredible.

Then he remembered that he was supposed to be telling her what he wanted.

"My balls. . ." his voice trailed off into a deep moan.

He had meant to ask her to hold his balls, but she misunderstood and instead released his cock, and began to lick his balls. His knees nearly buckled.

"God! Yes! Like that baby. So good."

After she had thoroughly licked his balls, she went back to sucking his cock. She squeezed his cock with one hand, while the thumb of her other hand caressed his balls. He was quickly moving past any point of control.

He reached down, trying to pull her back, "That's enough, pet," he moaned.

But Buffy was either being stubborn or didn't understand what he was trying to tell her. Her mouth kept working his cock.

"Buffy. . . luv. . . can't hold. . . back. Gonnaaaaaaaaaaa. . ."

He blacked out as he came in her mouth. There was a rattling sound as his back hit the door he was leaning against.

"Fuck. . . Buffy. . . " Even though he didn't breathe, he felt like he had to catch his breath.

As his mind slowly turned back on, he watched her get up, open her purse, and pull out her lipstick and compact. Clumsily he rezipped his fly. Then he moved in on her. He put his hands on her waist and drew her close to kiss her.

"Hey," she protested, and stopped him. "Lipstick."

"Sorry," Spike said reflexively, without being sure what he was apologizing for.

"It's okay. I just, I don't want to go out there looking like I just did. . . what I just did." She stopped fiddling with her makeup to look up at him through her lashes. "It was good, wasn't it?"

He relaxed. She wasn't mad at him for coming in her mouth. She was just being Buffy. Worried about appearances as always. He didn't care if she had to present her good little girl side in public, as long as he got another chance with her in private.

"It was fantastic. Bloody amazing," he nuzzled her neck. As his lips grabbed her earlobe he pulled back and said, "Pearls!"

"Huh?" she gave him a blank look. "Wow. I must be good. I broke you're brain."

"You need pearls. A string of pearls for your neck, and those little dangly earrings. Ever girl should have pearls."

"You really want to get me something?"

He nodded.

"I'd kind of like a soda."

He laughed. "Of course, pet."

He picked up his coat, dusted it off, and they snuck out of the janitor's closet. Luckily the intermission was long so that parents had plenty of time to take their children to the bathroom and buy them plenty of toys and treats.

He grumbled as he forked over the three and a half dollars for the soda.

Buffy laughed at him. "You take me out to fancy restaurants, talk about getting me pearls, and you complain about a three dollar soda?"

"There isn't three dollars of soda in there. It's all ice."

She laughed again. "I didn't know you were so cheap."

"I'm not cheap." How could she say that? Angel was cheap. Angel would run out into the noon day sun to pick a dime off the sidewalk. Spike just preferred to get his money's worth. If he was spending and not stealing, that is. "Tell you what. After the show, let's say you and me go to a fancy hotel and we'll get room service - have ourselves a right proper time. Get you some champagne to drink instead of that watered down syrup."

Her eyes lit up and he could see she liked the idea. "Oh, I like champagne." Then she smiled mischievously at him. "Aren't you afraid I might get drunk? You wouldn't want to have to send me home rather than take advantage of me."

He chuckled. "The champagne's not for you to drink." He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "It's for me to lick off of you."

She blushed. Even in the mass of bodies around them, Spike could feel her heartbeat pick up at the idea.

"Spike, you're such a- Dad?"

Spike blinked in confusion, not just at her words, but at the way the strong, confidant, sexy woman he'd had in his arms vanished. Instead, there was an insecure frightened girl. He followed her gaze to see a middle aged man with sandy blond hair standing there looking at them. He wasn't alone, but held the hand of a very young boy. The boy in turn held the hand of a beautiful dark haired woman - obviously his mother - who was no more than a handful of years older than Buffy.

Chapter 31
Spike knocked on the door of Hank Summers' house.

When the Summers' patriarch answered the door, Spike introduced himself, "Hello, sir. I'm William. We met earlier tonight at the ice show. I wanted to talk to you about my intentions toward Buffy. May I come in?"

Spike had reverted back to the more distinguished accent of his human days. He knew how to charm and seem respectable when he had to. Hank Summers might be uncomfortable with his eldest's beau on his doorstep, but he invited the smiling young gentleman in.

As the magical barrier vanished, and Spike stepped over the threshold, his smile broadened. Mr. Summers was too old for Spike's tastes - he'd always been a veal man - but you could never underestimate the fun that could be had with common household appliances.

Spike vamped and dragged the screaming man into the kitchen and towards the garbage disposal.

Buffy's sobbing brought him out of his fantasy. He reached down to stroke her hair.

"There, there, pet. S'okay," he murmured.

He moved his hand forward and carefully down shifted as he approached a stoplight. Buffy was stretched across the front seat of his DeSoto, her head in his lap. She gripped his leg as she sobbed, seeking comfort from him.

The run in with her father had been brief. There were awkward, introductions. Turned out the woman Hank Summers had with him was his secretary whom Buffy had met years before. Mr. Summers lied about taking his secretaries kid out, pretending it was just a favor for a friend. Pretending she wasn't his lover. Then he politely asked about Joyce and Dawn.

Through the whole encounter Buffy smiled, but the smile was a lie. The moment they parted ways with her father, she collapsed into Spike. With no desire to stay at the ice show anymore, they had left.

Spike parked the car.

"Buffy? Luv?"

She looked up at him, her face streaked with mascara and tears.

"Here now," he said gently. He licked his thumb and tried to clean up her face.

"I look awful," she sniffled.

"Nah, you look pretty as always, just a little smudged."

"Liar." She gave him a little smile, then pulled out her compact and some tissues and set about trying to fix up her face.

He got out of the DeSoto and walked around the car to open her door. She looked at him with a bit of surprise when he offered her his hand.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"Emergency stop," he told her. "Come on."

Curious, she took his hand and followed him. He led her down an alley.

"Spike, I'm not up for slaying. Not dressed for it either."

"Too bad. Killing something might do you some good. But that's not what we're here for."

He opened a door under a small sign that read, 'Cafe Mars' and led her down the stairs into the dimly lit room.

Old posters from the twenties were the only remnant of the speakeasy that the place had been the first time Spike had come to L.A. Since then the place had changed hands a couple of times. The decor hadn't changed much since the 50's though, when it had been a beatnik coffee shop.

"Chocolate here isn't as good as your mum's, but still should fix you up," he told her as he led her to the bar.

She smiled gratefully at him. Then her eyes alighted on a chocolate cake displayed in a glass case on top of the bar.

"Two cups of hot chocolate," he ordered. "You want anything else?"

She nodded and bit her lower lip. Childlike she pointed at the cake.

"A slice of cake, too."

Once they had their drinks and cake, Spike led her upstairs. The place had a few regular tables and chairs, but mostly the walls were lined with beat up couches. No two matched, nor did any of the other tables and chairs. A couple of the tables had small chessboards set up on them, abandoned at various stages in the game. Some of them had coins in the place of pieces. It was beat up, run down, and that gave it a special class. Made you feel like you were part of the in crowd for having found it.

They sat down on one of the couches. Buffy curled up against him, tucking her legs under herself, and resting her cake on the side of her leg. She blew on her coffee and for a while they sat in comfortable silence.

"It was our thing. You know?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah, I know." He gently stroked her arm.

"It's like. . . I haven't seen him in more than a year and now. . . it's like he has a whole new family. Like we weren't good enough."

"Maybe it's just the opposite."

"Huh?"

"You're mum. She's an amazing woman. Don't know how any fellow could leave her. So maybe. . . maybe it's hard for him to look at you and Dawn. You're so like her. So beautiful, so strong. Maybe he can't take looking at what he lost."

She took a bite of her cake, and made a yummy sound.

"That's sweat. But it's total crap, you know?" she told him.

"Best I could come up with on short notice. You know I'm the wrong bloke to talk to about infidelity? Never strayed from Dru once. Hell, I didn't even cheat on Harmony, and I could barely stand her."

"So you think he cheated. That they were together before the divorce."

Spike shifted uncomfortably. He didn't think; he knew. He and Joyce had often commiserated about their wayward exes, and she had told him about Hank's affair with his secretary. But that had been told to him in confidence. He knew Joyce wouldn't want him divulging that to her daughter. At the same time, he didn't want to lie to Buffy.

"Maybe. . ." he said noncommittally.

"No, what do you think? Tell me please."

He sighed. A lie by omission was one thing, but he couldn't lie outright to her.

"Yeah."

She nodded, and put her cocoa down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Oh my god, that boy. You don't think he's my. . ."

That stunned Spike. It hadn't occurred to him. Children and pregnancies were not a part of a vampire's life. They hadn't really been part of his mortal life either. As a naive member of Victorian society he'd certainly had many misconceptions about the subject.

"I don't know. Do you really think he'd keep a kid secret?"

"Maybe. . . I, the older I get, the more I feel I don't know who my dad is. When they first got the divorce, I thought. . . I just thought they didn't get along anymore. They fought a lot, but it was always about stupid, little stuff."

"You're mum, she wanted to spare you and Dawn. Would it have been better if you knew?"

"No, I guess not. I just. . ." she drifted off into her thoughts and munched on more of her cake.

He wished he could think of something to distract her. Someway to make her hurt less. To make her not care about what some bleeding wanker thought or felt. Buffy's infinite curiosity, however, provided a new topic of conversation.

"Wait a minute," she said putting down her chocolate and turning to look at him. "If you were completely faithful to both Drusilla and Harmony, how many women have you slept with?"

"None of your business."

"Oh come on, you know how many guys I've been with."

He looked into her face. Being nosey seemed to cheer her up. Although he was somewhat afraid of what she might think of his answer, he also wanted to keep her mind from more unpleasant subjects.

"Including you?" he asked.

"Uh-huh."

He closed his eyes. There was no way he could look at her and answer. "Three," he whispered.

"What?!" she squeaked. "No way!" He nodded. "Oh my god! I'm such a slut. You're like a hundred and fifty, and I'm not even twenty and I've been with more people than you."

"Don't be silly, pet. You're not a slut. You're just easy," he teased.

She wrinkled her nose at him, and hit him playfully on the chest. Then her eyes went wide.

"Does that mean you were a virgin when you died?"

Spike shifted uncomfortably. He was starting to wonder if distracting her from being upset was really worth it.

"Look, things were different back then. No respectable woman had sex before she was married and-"

"So I'm not respectable?"

"I didn't say that. Back then. . . Look, it was an awful time." He was getting defensive. "I wasn't married, never been to a whore, and didn't force the maids to fuck me. So yeah, I was a virgin, all right?"

She scooted up onto his lap and rested her head against his chest.

"It's okay, you know. I think it's kind of sweet."

"'M not sweet."

She kissed his neck, her tongue emerging from between her red lips, to lick him.

"I think you are," she murmured, tickling him with her breath. "I think you're lickable."

He started to position her over his growing erection when she pulled back a little.

"I'll be right back," she told him as she grabbed her purse and headed toward the bathroom.

He watched as she swished away toward the bathroom. He took a swallow of his chocolate and reflected that things were beginning to look up again, when a familiar scent drifted by.

"My, isn't she a sweet little thing?" said a woman's voice.

"Maria," Spike noted. "You really shouldn't be here," he told the vampiress as she sat down next to him.

Chapter 32

Buffy exited the bathroom stall and looked at her face in the mirror. She really was a mess. Mascara and eyeliner streaked her face. Spike's attempt to clean off her face had only spread the black streaks left and right.

She took some hand towels from the dispenser and began to clean herself up. She felt a little silly. Why should it have mattered that her father had taken some other kid to the ice show? He'd left her life years before. He'd missed weekends, birthdays, graduation, and Christmases. The first year after they'd moved to Sunnydale, she and Dawn had spent the summer with him. But since then they hadn't spent much time with him.

It wasn't fair that he could be so small a part of her life, and still hurt her so much.

At least she had Spike to hold on to. He must think her the biggest cry baby. How many times in the last month or so had she ended up crying in his arms? And every time when she was done crying, she felt better. Felt like she'd been purged of some of her fear or grief.

It made her almost regret the blowjob she'd given him earlier. She wanted some way to pay him back for being so patient with her. For taking such good care of her. She could go down on him again, but that seemed to lack originality.

She laughed. She'd forgotten this was Spike she was thinking about. She could just ask him what he wanted. He wasn't like Riley who saw sex as something to be done, but not talked about. She would have to thank him for telling her how to blow him. For the first time she hadn't felt clumsy and unsure. On the other hand, maybe she should also let him know that she wasn't big on swallowing. She'd wanted to try it, to find out what it was like. It wasn't bad. . . she just didn't want to be expected to do it every time. She smiled knowing that she could tell him that. It would embarrass her, she would probably blush, but she could tell him, and it would be okay.

That's when she realized Spike wasn't okay. Her vampire detecting senses had been steadily becoming more and more attuned to Spike with every encounter. She was no longer just aware of his location but had begun to be sensitive to his moods as well. At first she just thought she was picking up on his body language, but right now, when she couldn't see him, there was no denying that some sort of deeper connection was growing between them.

Spike was upset and agitated. Buffy stuffed her makeup back in her purse and hurried out of the bathroom. Although she hoped that it was nothing more than him being slightly upset at her for teasing him then walking off, knowing Spike he was probably in deep trouble in the five minutes she'd been gone.

As soon as she walked through the bathroom door, her eyes narrowed as she saw the elegant slut that was obviously putting the moves on her vampire. Buffy's senses left her with no doubt that the woman was a vampire so before returning to Spike, Buffy detoured toward napkins, sugar packs, and other coffee supplies left out on a table for the patrons convenience. Buffy found a wooden stirring stick and palmed it.

Then she headed straight for Spike and the slut who now had a hand on Spike's knee. There was a part of Buffy that was almost disappointed that Spike wasn't responding to the female vamp's advances. It would make life easier if she didn't live in a world where her fully souled father could cheat on her mother and leave, while an evil soulless vampire could be the paragon of faithfulness. But there could be no doubt that Spike wasn't at all interested in the vamp, and was starting to get angry that she wasn't leaving him alone.

"Hi there," Buffy said sweetly as she approached the undead couple. "I guess you've met Spike," she offered as she lifted the vamp's hand off of Spike's knee.

Buffy then sat in Spike's lap, draping her self over him. Her hand that held the coffee stirrer snaked around his neck, and she gently dragged the wooden tip over his skin so that he would know she was armed.

Spike looked at her, cocking an eyebrow as if daring her to try and stake the vampire with the glorified toothpick.

"Isn't she a pushy little blood doll?" the vampiress said looking at the scars on Buffy's neck and misunderstanding their relevance. "Or do you have longer term plans for this one?"

Spike growled and put a protective arm around her. Buffy could feel his entire body tense under her and she wondered why the woman's words had upset him so much. Sure slutty slutterella had drawn the wrong conclusion, but it was the most obvious one. Of all the vampires in the world, Spike had to be the least likely to have a Slayer sitting on his lap - considering he'd killed two.

The female vamp just laughed at Spike's reaction.

"Come on, Spike? Why not share? It'll be fun," she offered and put her hand on Buffy's knee.

Buffy's eyes went wide and she couldn't help but left forth an, "Eeew."

Sure her best friend was gay, but Buffy had a suspicion that what the very forward vampire wanted was less a menage a trois, and more like treating Buffy as a milkshake with two straws before she and Spike fucked. Besides, Buffy had never been big on sharing.

"Maria," Spike warned, but it was too late. Buffy had decided to act. She passed the wooden stick from her left to her right hand and jabbed it through Maria's chest. With perfect precision, she missed all of Maria's ribs, and managed to get enough of the now splintered wood into the vampire's heart. Maria exploded into a cloud of dust.

"Oh crap," Buffy said.

Spike looked at her questioningly.

"She dusted all over my coco and cake," Buffy pouted.

"I'll get you some more," Spike promised.

"That's okay," Buffy sighed. "Maybe we should go somewhere more private anyway."

He smiled at her as she got up. "Sounds good to me pet. I know just the place."

"Why am I not surprised?" Buffy said.

Then the absurdity of the question hit her. Only a week ago she would have been surprised. She would never have believed that Spike would know the right places to go, or to wear, or to say. Now she was perfectly comfortable with suave Spike.

Spike on the other hand wasn't comfortable. She could see where he was holding all his tension in his shoulders. Something was obviously bothering him. They got back into his car, but before she could ask him what was bothering him, he spoke.

"You know I'd never do it, right?"

"Do. . ?"

"Turn you."

"Oh." This was a conversation Buffy didn't really want to have.

"I mean it," Spike insisted. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Sure, I mean, I'm not sure I'd want to spend eternity with me either," she joked hoping to divert him from the subject.

"It's not that, I. . . I can't stand the thought of losing you." Suddenly he pulled the car over. He took Buffy's face in his hand and looked her straight in the eyes. "I love you."

"Oh."

It was a horrible response, Buffy knew. But she was caught completely off guard. Not ready for any of this, and not really sure which way the conversation was going. All she knew was that Spike had something on his mind, and wasn't going to be happy until he said it.

She bit the bullet. "So why wouldn't you turn me then?"

A look of confusion crossed Spike's face, as if he didn't know the answer either. Then he started to speak, slowly, hesitantly as if he was only figuring it all out as he spoke.

"I wanted to; thought about it. Before today. I've known for a while now how I felt about you. All the ways I wanted you. I wanted. . ." he laughed. "Fuck, I don't know how many times I imagined you on your knees, the way you were earlier. And in those fantasies, I had turned you, because I couldn't imagine you doing that any other way. I never thought you'd. . . It's like this; you're this amazing strong woman, and when you chose to suck my cock, it meant. . . it meant there must be something about me, you know? If I turned you, I could have anything from you I wanted, use you any way I like, but it would never be pure. I'd always wonder, always think you'd be doing it cause I was your Sire and you didn't have a real choice."

Buffy sat there thinking over his words for a minute. Trust Spike to be able to romance her and creep her out all at once. She didn't know how to respond to him, so she took advantage of the fact that they were now in a serious relationship talk.

"So what about the claiming? I researched it and. . . well I can't imagine why you'd want to claim me. I mean, I'm the Slayer. It's not like other vampires are going to lay off on me because you sank your fangs into me." He started to protest but she kept going. "That's not really the point, I know. The point is, I'm going to die. Probably soon. Probably painfully. I mean, I never expected to make it thought high school, and college? I go because I have to pretend. It would just be too awful to. . . I don't think I could go on if I didn't at least act like I had a future. But I don't. I know that. And if you claimed you, you'd share in all of that."

"Why do you think I want to claim you, you silly bint?" he teased her gently and ran his thumb over her cheek. "You think I don't know death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it's gonna catch you?" he said sadly. "And part of you wants it. . . not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it."

Buffy tried to look away from him, hurt at his words, but he wouldn't let her.

"Death is your art," he insisted. "You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret." He closed his eyes for a minute, as if ashamed. "That's how I killed two Slayers. Every Slayer. . . has a death wish. Even you. The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world. . . your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies. They all tie you here. That's why I want to claim you. To tie you down so you don't escape, least not anytime soon."

Tears were running down her face. She knew Spike well enough to know he believed every word he had just said, even if she couldn't accept them.

He wiped away her tears. "Every fella wants to protect his bird. It's some sodding cave man instinct I suppose. I may be handy to you in a fight, but I know you don't really need me to protect you with my fists and fangs. But this way I can. . . can protect your heart, if you'll let me."

Her only answer was to lean over and kiss him gently on the lips; feeling for the first time in her life what it meant to belong.

Chapter 33:

A/N: Due to computer problems I won’t bore you with, I lost my e-mail address book. If you were on my list of people who were getting update notifications e-mailed to you, please e-mail me again so I can reconstruct the list. Sorry about this. My e-mail is icemink@mac.com

Spike cursed as he tried to slide the card into the door handle of the hotel room while kissing and groping Buffy.

Buffy giggled. "Give me that."

She plucked the card out of his hand and spun in his arms so that her back was to him. While she worked the electronic lock and key, he used the opportunity to fill his now empty hands with her breasts. Despite the distraction she managed to open the door.

"Oh wow!" Buffy said as she took in the room.

She broke out of Spike's grasp to get a better look. It was the nicest hotel room Buffy had ever seen, not that she'd seen a lot, but she figured most didn't come with big comfy looking four-poster beds. But that wasn't what had her attention.

"How'd they do that?" she asked.

"Do. . ?"

"Look," she pointed, "The ice is hardly melted at all. And this champagne bottle's cold. But we just checked in. How could they know to put it up here?"

"Rule number one about being upper class, Slayer: Never notice the servants or wonder how things get done. Just take them for granted."

"Rule number two," Buffy said annoyed. "No calling me Slayer when it's just the two of us. I do have a name."

He immediately came to her, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Right, sorry luv, err Buffy."

"Love's okay. Just not Slayer. I know we're not just two normal people, but I like to pretend, okay?"

"Whatever you say, luv." He smiled at her, letting the tip of his tongue poke out from between his teeth. "And what else do you like to pretend?"

He pulled her in close and she was forced to splay her hands on his chest. Buffy thought she might melt from the way he was looking at her. It took her a moment to find her voice.
"For starters," she began shyly. "I pretend I belong to someone. Are you. . . are you going to claim me?"

"Do you want me to? I was thinking of waiting for permission this time. Keeps me on the same side of the room as you," he said jokingly so she'd know he had no hard feelings.

"Yes, I want you to. If you're sure you want me?"

"Never been more sure of anything but. . ."

Buffy's heart nearly stopped beating. Here it was. The big let down.

"Do you love me?" he whispered shyly.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes, I love you," she said without thinking.

She'd been ready for this. After he'd told her he loved her she’d figured this moment was coming. She'd prepared for it. She couldn't risk losing him now, so she'd made up her mind to simply tell him she loved him if he asked. When the words left her mouth, however, she was surprised to find out how true they were.

"God, yes. I love you," she said more forcefully.

After the first shock it seemed so obvious, if a little crazy, that she couldn't believe that she hadn't figured it out before.

He smiled like she'd never seen him smile before. It was kind of dopey, but it lit up his eyes. She didn't have much time to contemplate it because he was kissing her. She opened her mouth to him and let his tongue fill her. For a moment she let him take her over completely, then she fought his tongue with hers. Demanding to be allowed to explore him as deeply as he was exploring her. She pushed her body against his, wanting to touch him everywhere, wanting to be touched by him. She was finally forced to break the kiss as she gasped for air.

"What do you want?" she asked him breathlessly.

"You, just you baby," he murmured as he moved in to kiss her again.

"No silly," she said as she dogged his mouth. "I mean how… I want to. . ." she smiled as the words came to her, "I want to get you so hot you dust."

He gave her a hungry smile and ground his erection into her belly.

"You already do," he purred. "Miracle I haven't gone poof already."

She giggled as his hands slid up and down her back and his tongue licked her neck.

"I mean it," she insisted. "I want to do something for you. Do it the way you like."

"I like it lots of ways." He pulled back from her neck so he could look her in the eyes. "Right now, I just want to make love to you, pet. Make you mine."

It was almost nice that he was trying to be tender with her, but also a little annoying.

"I'm serious, Spike. It's okay, you can tell me. I want to know."

"So am I, pet. You asked what I want, and that's it. Another day, another mood, sure… might want something a bit dirtier, or a bit rougher. But now, I just want to worship you like you deserve."

"Oh," she said with disappointment.

She never would have guessed that her relationship with Spike would end up in the same place she and Riley had been. At least not so quickly. Buffy wondered what had gone wrong. How had they gone from blowjobs at the ice show to boring sex in the space of an hour? Had her former curse of sleeping with men and turning them evil somehow reversed and she'd made Spike good? Too good?

But she'd told herself that she wanted to give Spike a fantasy, unless it made her really, really, REALLY uncomfortable, and this didn't fit that category.

"Okay," she agreed.

Spike, however, seemed to clue in on her lack of enthusiasm.

"What's wrong, Buffy? You don't seem exactly happy."

"No, it's fine. If that's what you want."

"Only if you do. I just don't understand. I thought. . . I mean you said you loved me."

The vulnerability and fear in his voice nearly broke her heart.

"I do. I love you, Spike. I meant it. It's just. . ." She took a deep breath. This was Spike, the guy she was supposed to be able to be honest with. Now was as good a time as any to find out if that really was true. "Most of the times. . . well actually all of the times I've had sex, except with you, it's been love making. It was nice and all, but you know, boring."

She bit her bottom lip as she finished, worried about what his reaction might be. She didn't expect him to laugh in her face.

"Oh, pet," he chuckled. "No reason it has to be like that. Don't you trust me to get you off?"

"Well, when you put it like that. . . "

"There is one thing you could do for me." He said lowering his voice. She looked at him eagerly, wondering what it would be. "Take down your hair," he ordered.

It was an odd request, she thought, but she complied instantly. She reached up to pull the pins out of her hair, and then shook it out. He smiled and gave her an incredibly lusty look that made her squeeze her legs together in anticipation. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"You know I love this hair. The way it bounces around when you move. The way it sparkles in the light."

To emphasize his point, he buried his face in her locks and kissed her behind her ear.

"Mmmm," he murmured. "Did I ever actually tell you how much I like the new scent?"

"Only if you count jumping me as I came out of the shower as telling."

"Well I do. Love it. Love you."

He began kissing her again. One hand roamed up her back from her waist to the top of her dress. Then he slowly slid down the zipper. As the dress came loose, he began kissing his way down her neck to her chest. The dress fell in a pool on the floor and he cupped her breasts, burying his face between them.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him close, delighting in the pleasure he was taking in her breasts. She chuckled tenderly, until his thumbs began to circle her nipples through the fabric of her bra. She gasped in delight, then. She could feel the dampness spreading between her legs.

Gently she pushed him away and backed up onto the bed. She lay down in what she hoped was a sexy centerfold position.

"You're wearing too much," she told him.

It was almost a shame, asking him to take off the tux. He looked so good in it, but then naked Spike was even better than 007 Spike. At least this way, she hoped she could enjoy the show.

He smiled, and his eyes swept up and down her body. She could almost feel them caressing her. Without taking his hungry eyes off of her, he undid his bow tie and threw it to the floor. Then he began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

As if it had a will of it's own, Buffy's hand moved down to her panties where she began to gently touch herself as she watched him undress.

"Impatient are we, luv?" he chuckled with delight as he watched her.

He shrugged out of his shirt and coat, then quickly removed his pants and kicked off his shoes. Before Buffy could make any appreciative remarks about his erect member he was on top of her and his kisses drove all thoughts from her mind.

Their mouths tried to devour each other as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. They both seemed to need to touch each other everywhere all at once.

Spike broke off kissing her and just looked at her. He brushed her hair out of her face. "You're so beautiful. So strong, so perfect."

The look on his face changed from one of awe to one of mischief as he began to work his way down her body. Every time his soft lips brushed her skin, Buffy shivered with delight. His eyes stayed focused on her face, and she couldn't look away from their blue depths. The look of love in his eyes scared her. As eager as she was for him, she also felt vulnerable, and exposed. She had lost control somewhere, and as much as she wanted to trust Spike - believed she could trust him - her past experience had taught her that it was when you gave your heart to a guy that things went wrong.

Her fears were driven from her mind, though, when he began to kiss her inner thigh. His lips and tongue left a trail of fire as they moved down her leg to her knee. When he reached the top of her stocking he stopped, sat up a little, then he pulled off her shoe and tossed it aside. His fingers slid inside the elastic and he slid his hand down her leg slowly as he pulled the stocking off. Then he repeated his actions on her other leg.

Satisfied, he reached forward and removed her panties. Up to this point he'd been taking his time, but once she lay there exposed before him, his self-control snapped. He made a deep throaty growl as he buried his face between her legs. She squealed in delight as his cool tongue delved inside of her.

She became his complete prisoner then. Lost completely in the sensation of him exploring her. All of her limbs were trembling as his tongue thrust in and out of her. Her fingers dug into the mattress as her hips surged up off the bed.

Then he pulled back a little and blew a burst of air against her engorged clitoris. Buffy screamed in pleasure. He thrust his fingers inside of her as his tongue moved in to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Oh, God. Spike," she began to babble as he skillfully manipulated her body.

She didn't know how much of this she could take. The sensations were too much, overwhelming her. Just as she was about to burst, to fall completely over the edge, he stopped. He knelt between her legs and pulled her up so that she was straddling him.

He reached up to kiss her and she could taste herself on his lips and tongue. His hands moved to her hips to bring her down onto his eager member, but Buffy's rebellious streak took her. Just as the head of his cock touched her opening, she pulled back, teasing him.

She smiled sweetly at him, and fluttered her eyelashes innocently. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and lightly nipped him.

Her arms were resting lightly on his shoulders and she used them to keep herself hovering just over him.

"Please, baby," he begged. "Need you so bad."

She dipped her wet pussy down toward him again, but this time his cock slid in just a fraction more than she had intended. The feeling of him spreading her open was too much for her, and there was no way she could pull away. Instead, she greedily sucked him inside of her.

They both cried with pleasure as their bodies came together and she fit herself to him. He cradled her head and kissed her hard as they began to move together. Buffy rode up and down against him, delighting in the amount of control this position gave her over how he entered her.

Her body was so ready and eager for him that her climax hit her quickly. She threw her head back and screamed, "SPIKE!"

She dug her nails into his shoulders as she pushed her body as tightly against his as she could. Just as her orgasm was fading, she felt his lips suck at her throat. His tongue, which seemed rougher than she’d been used to, licked her neck, and then his fangs sunk into it.

She cried out again and her body began to resume uncontrollable shakes as he began to suck at the wound. Her second orgasm brought him with her as they continued to surge against each other.

As it faded, her arms and legs lost their strength. She tumbled backwards, drawing him down with her. She grunted with pleasure as their impact against the bed ground him delightfully against her. His mouth was still affixed to her neck, although he was no longer sucking, just tickling the wound with his tongue.

Slowly he moved his mouth to her ear. "Buffy," he whispered.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but she thought she felt a spark as he said her name. She wanted it to be real, wanted to hold on to him, to this moment. She was terrified it wouldn't last, that it was all going away. But then Spike began to play with her fingers, entwining his with hers as he pulled himself out of her and settled next to her.

It was such a gentle thing to do. She smiled at him and turned her head so she could study his expression. He pulled her close to him, and seeing the look of vulnerability in his eyes she realized something. Her fears weren't entirely her own. The anxiety that he would leave her, that this wasn't real, that it was just sex. They were her emotions yes, but they were partially Spike's, too. His feelings were merging with hers more and more the closer they became. Knowing that Spike shared her fears made her feel even closer to him, and made her realize how unfounded those fears were. This was Spike, and come what may she knew he would stick with her.

"How’s my girl?" he asked.

"Perfect," she told him.

Chapter 34

Buffy giggled as Spike carried her through the doors of the Hyperion in the pre-dawn hours. They would have both preferred staying in bed at the other hotel, but if they hadn’t gotten moving before sunrise, they would have been stuck there until sunset. Buffy couldn’t seem to remember why that was a bad thing anymore.

The fact was, Buffy had never felt so good in her life. Her whole body tingled and was sore. Half the reason Spike was carrying her was because she wasn’t sure how reliably her legs worked. If pre-claim sex had been great, post –claim sex was beyond description. Having a lover who could predict her every physical need was incredible. He’d switched back and forth from torturing her by keeping her on the edge of an orgasm to making her cum over and over again.

And then they were through the door and Angel was sitting there on the ottoman wearing the sort of scowl it took a hundred years to perfect.

She could feel the delight in Spike, and it hurt her. She knew that their relationship was deep, true, real and not just some way to get back at Angel. But it was also a way to get back at Angel. Buffy felt small, insignificant. Just another battlefield in the century long war between two alpha males.

“Told you not to wait up, mate,” Spike dug at Angel.

“Vampire, remember? It’s not my bed-time yet.”

Buffy squirmed against Spike, so he’d let her down. He did without taking his eyes off of Angel. He was completely unaware of her discomfort. He hadn’t forgotten about her, just shifted focus so that she wasn’t the center of his universe anymore. It was strange and a little scary, realizing how much deeper the claim she had on Spike was than the one he had on her. He could feel her physically; know what her body felt, needed. But she had developed a direct line to his emotions.

Then Angel sprung to his feet, growling as golden eyes swept over both of them.

“You claimed her.”

It was the quietness of Angel’s voice that scared Buffy the most. Yelling she could deal with. Calm and quiet were harbingers of the very not good.

“That’s right,” Spike said with equal cool.

But Buffy knew better. She could feel the flurry of emotions under Spike’s calm demeanor. She knew he hadn’t thought of this. He hadn’t been thinking of Angel last night anymore than she had. For which she was glad. Glad that it really had been just about the two of them.

She squeezed Spike’s hand to let him know she was there with him. She knew how important that was to him. The combination of the physical contact, and the fact that she was actively trying to read him pulled her even deeper into his thoughts.

This was familiar to him; he pushed, struggled against the bonds. Took what Angel said wasn’t his, and then they fought. This was as much a routine for them as asking her how her day had been was for her mom. It was the part that came next that chilled Buffy. Spike was terrified because it always ended the same way. Angel always won. And this time he felt that if he lost, then that would be it. It really mattered this time. She wasn’t sure why.

Did he really think it would matter to her who won? That she cared which was the tougher vampire?

“Don’t worry, Buffy,” Angel told her. “I won’t let what he’s done to you last.”

She looked at both men in confusion. “What are you talking about? Okay, first off, he didn’t do anything to me. Well he did. But nothing I didn't literally ask for. Secondly I can take care of myself. Thirdly, there’s nothing you can do anyway. The claim's permanent. Lifelong deal.”

A horrid thought struck Buffy. He’s going to try and kill Spike right here in front of me. Of course she would never let that happen, but still, what right did Angel have to try and kill her boyfriend?

“Actually, it’s not. Not necessarily,” Angel said ominously.

“What’s he talking about?” Buffy asked Spike, turning to him for comfort.

“Sorry pet, I never thought. . . it never occurred to me to tell you. It’s even rarer than the claim itself, but another vampire can challenge for the claim - take it over.”

“What? What kind of caveman logic is that? Well I won’t let you,” she told Angel.

Now she understood Spike’s terror, why he had to win. To lose would be to lose her. No way was she letting Angel claim her. With Spike it was this sweet way of letting him in, sharing her life with him. But with Angel it would be like being stalked 24/7. For one thing, she’d never be able to have sex again, never even touch herself, cause he’d feel all of it. He'd be in her bedroom for the rest of her life.

“You don’t have a choice,” Angel told her as he leapt at Spike.

Spike shoved her out of the way. She hit the floor, but years of training caused her to roll to her feet. She spun around to see the most brutal battle she’d ever witnessed. Spike had finally vamped, and he and Angel tore at each other.

She cursed under her breath. She was a little afraid to get between the two vampires, even if there had been room. If she got too close, and Spike hit her by accident, the chip would go off, and that would leave him vulnerable to Angel. The worst part was that Spike had already made his mistake. She had fought with and against both men. She knew their strengths and weaknesses - maybe better than they did.

Spike had let Angel get in too close. As they grappled with each other the larger man could use his size and strength to greater advantage. If Spike could get some distance between them he would have a much better chance, but rage had consumed him. He was so desperate not to lose this time that he was attacking with his heart, not his head. In some cases that could work for you, Buffy knew. But mostly it was a mistake. Spike was the cleverer fighter, but he was relying too much on the demon. Worse, Spike didn’t believe he could win. He would be defeated by his own fatalism, if nothing else.

As the two demons beat each other relentlessly, Buffy longed to step in. To stop it. It was pointless. Yet she was scared that if she did, it would do too much harm to Spike. She wanted him to win - not for her, but for him. This once, she wanted him to best Angel.

Angel had his arm around Spike’s neck in a chokehold. Of course Spike didn’t need to breathe but still, it made it difficult for the younger vampire to move. Spike sent an elbow into Angel’s stomach, loosening Angel’s hold on him. Buffy all but cheered, thinking that maybe things were turning around. Then Angel simply threw himself at the smaller man, using his size and weight to crush him.

Spike hit the floor face first, Angel on top pinning him down. Angel yanked the collar of Spike’s shirt ripping it open and Buffy could hear buttons hit the floor. She didn’t need to see Angel start to lean forward to know what he was going to do, to know what would make him winner and transfer the claim. They were vampires after all.

Spike yelled and beat impotently against the floor trying to throw his attacker off of him. Buffy never gave him the chance. The stakes were finally too high and too personal for her to be able to give a damn about his male pride.

Angel roared in triumph as his head began to descend to the tender flesh of his opponent’s neck. Instead, it connected with the toe of Buffy’s shoe. His head snapped back as he sailed back into the counter, and for a moment Buffy thought maybe she’d gone too far and broken Angel’s neck. But then she saw him moving as he started to get to his feet.

She moved to help Spike up. He snarled at her, but she ignored it. She’d deal with his shame latter; right now she had to make it clear to Angel that he could never try this again.

“Buffy,” Angel growled at her, “Stay out of this.”

“You’re kidding, right? Hello this is my life here, too. And just so we’re clear, if you had won, if you took my claim, then I’d drop out of school, give up slaying move in with Spike, and do nothing but fuck him all day long so you’d have to feel him touching me all the time.”

To her great relief, Angel didn’t call her bluff but stormed off. Luckily the idea of such a mystical threesome sickened him as much as it did her. She pulled Spike’s arm around her neck to help support him and take him upstairs so she could see to his injuries.

Spike snarled and pulled away from her, refusing her help. She was annoyed but not really surprised. She knew she needed to patch up his ego just as much as his body. So she followed.

Buffy followed him down the less used corridors of the hotel. She assumed he was trying to get as far from Angel as possible considering the sun had gone up during their fight. Finally he chose a run down room that was covered in dust, and lacking in solid furniture. She was about to follow him in when he slammed the door in her face.

She was angry, but she fought it. She could feel his pain calling her through the doorway. All the doubt, the insecurity, the belief that he wasn’t as good as Angel filled her. She gritted her teeth, counted to ten, and then opened the door.

He was laying on the floor curled into a fetal position, his back to her. His body rocked softly as he cried. She wanted to run to him, hold him, and tell him that it was all okay. That it didn’t matter. But that was the wrong instinct and she knew it. She had to build him back up. Make him feel like the Big Bad again. Not someone who needed her protection.

“Get up,” she told him.

She could feel his surprise and his hurt; he’d expected her pity. When he didn’t move, she gently kicked him in the back.

“I said get up.” She kept her voice firm.

Slowly he unwound himself and turned till he was sitting facing her, his face streaked with dust and tears. He had reverted to his human features and looked all the world like a little lost boy. The need to comfort him hit her again and she found herself moved and kind of turned on by it. But she couldn’t indulge her own fantasies right now.

“Why did you lose?” she asked him.

“I tried. . .” he whined.

“Not good enough,” she cut him off. She hated doing this; it was breaking her heart, especially because she could tell he thought that he’d failed her. That he wasn’t good enough for her. Still, she found the inner bitch and clung to it. “Why did you lose?”

“Because I’m not as strong as he is, not as big. Haven’t been around as long. He’s my grand-sire - he’s going to win. That’s just the way things are.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re right. He is stronger, and he is bigger. Well, most of him is.” She let herself flirt for that one moment. If she was going to build up his ego, she might as well work on all of it. Not to mention it was true. “But you know what, he’s bigger than me and I can beat him, and I’m stronger than you, but you’re still a match for me. As for age, I’m only nineteen which puts me way younger than most of the vampires I’ve slain.”

“So why don’t you tell me then? You’ve got all the answers! You’re the all knowing Slayer!” he snapped at her.

She sighed, and had the sudden urge to take off and clean her glasses, even though she didn’t wear any.

“That’s right. I’m the Slayer and I know you, both of you, and how you fight. That should have been, maybe not a cakewalk, but you should have won. He’s stronger but you’re faster, more creative, and better trained.” She suddenly got sidetracked, “Where’d you learn how to fight anyway? Not from him.” She shook her head realizing that was a story for another time. “The point is, you should have won, but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because he always does,” Spike snarled at her. He got to his feet and begun pacing. His control had slipped, and his features were demonic again. “He always wins. Always gets everything. Everything I want, everything that should be mine, he takes it - even when he really doesn’t want it. Just wants to prove that I have nothing. That I’m not good enough.”

“You’re right.” He spun around to face her, angry and hurt all at once. “That’s why you lost. Because you expected to.” She finally let her voice soften. “However much you wanted to win, you didn’t believe you could. Until you start to believe in yourself, Angel’s always going to be able to hurt you like this. To take things from you. Well, not me, cause I won’t let him. Oh, and by the way stupid, since you didn’t seem to notice, I chose you in there.”

That brought Spike up short. A look of utter surprise crossed his face as he replayed the events of the morning in his head.

“You did,” he said with something approaching awe. He reached out to touch her face. “You chose me over him.” He said the words slowly, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying them, much less that they were true. Then he let out a big whooping noise, and lifted her up into the air and spun her around. Until a cracked rib gave way and he nearly dropped her.

She laughed at his antics.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up, okay baby?” she asked.

“Anything you want,” he told her, holding her tight.

Chapter 35:

After his fight with Angel, Buffy had bandaged him up, both physically and mentally. They had napped for most of the morning, then they had gone back downstairs to find Angel Investigations still busily trying to deal with the Darla problem. Spike really didn't care, but Buffy still thought Darla had to be dealt with.

So now it was early evening and the two of them were traveling around L.A. checking out a list of hotels, motels, and apartments buildings that Wolfram & Hart was known to use, searching for Darla. They were just about to enter an apartment building when Lilah Morgan stepped outside.

'Bollocks,' Spike thought. 'What the hell is she doing here?'

Buffy eyed him curiously as he regarded the brunette lawyer with trepidation.

"Well isn't this a lucky coincidence," Lilah said in her too sweet voice.

Spike was willing to bet it was anything but a coincidence.

"I was just on my way to find you," she continued. "Dr. Roberts realized that he forgot to give you his card." She produced a business card from her purse and shoved it in Spike's hand. "You know, in case you need a follow up appointment. Brain surgery is a tricky thing. Well, tatah."

With that she beeped open the locks on a nearby Lexus, got in and drove off.

"Brain surgery? What is she talking about? Not to mention who is she?" a confused Buffy asked.

Spike looked down at his shoes, unable to look her in the eye.

"Umm, Lilah's her name. She's one of the lawyers at Wolfram & Hart."

Silence stretched between them. Buffy just waited for him to answer his other question. Realizing he had no way out of this, but concocting some absurd lie, he gave in and hesitantly looked her in the eye. Her hazel eyes were filled with pain. Obviously she knew he was hiding something, and the hint of fear in her eyes told him she'd already guessed what he was going to say.

He found he couldn't look her in the eye after all, and he started to play nervously with the doctor's card.

"I umm. . . I got the chip removed."

"When?" Her voice was barley audible, and yet it was hard.

He looked up at her again. "It's been about two days now."

"Have you killed anyone?" she asked with the same quiet voice.

There was no accusation in her voice, but Spike heard it all the same. Guilt at not telling her flooded him. He was going to. Knew he had to. But he'd wanted a chance to prove himself.

"What?! No. When have I had bloody time for killing? Been dragged all over the place trying to help Angel, haven't I?"

She leaned wearily back against the rough, brick wall of the apartment building.

"So, just haven't had time to schedule it in, huh?" Buffy's voice started to crack.

The tears rolling down her face broke his heart. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

"No. . . I'm not. . . I wouldn't. . . "

"Why not?" she screamed at him. "That's what you've been going on about since they put it in your head. How we should all be careful 'cause of what would happen when you got the chip out."

"It's not like that," he pleaded with her. "Look, I'm not going to kill anyone."

"How do I know that? How can I ever know that?" she sobbed.

"I wanted to kill your dad and I didn't," he said before he could think about what he was saying.

"Oh, great. That's a real big assurance. You only want to kill my family."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Look, I've changed. I can be-"

"You can be what? Human? You're not. You never will be," she shouted back at him. Then she crumpled. Her legs went out from beneath her and she huddled on the ground hugging herself. "I can't. . . I can't do this again."

"Do what, baby?"

He ran to her, sat next to her and reached out to comfort her, but she flinched away.

"You have to go. You have to leave L.A, leave Sunnydale." She got back to her feet. "I'm the Slayer. If I see you again, I have to kill you."

She walked away.

He ran after her.

"No, it doesn't have to be like that. Look I promise. I won't kill. Just give me a chance," he begged.

She stopped and looked at him. Her hand reached up and she stroked his cheek.

"William, I know you mean it. I know you think you're different, that you won't. . . But if I give you a chance, and you fail, then what? I couldn't. . . I can't. . . Do you love me?"

"Yes, god yes, Buffy. You know I do. I just wanted. . .I just wanted to protect you. That's all. If something happened to you. . ."

"If you love me, Spike. If you really love me, then leave. Do as I ask because I can't. . . I'm not strong enough. I won't survive this again."

Her voice was so soft, the fear and the pain in her eyes so real, that it broke him. She was wrong. It would all be okay, if she would just trust him. But he had already broken that trust. He could see in her eyes that she wouldn't give in. That no sweet words or kisses would win his way back into her heart. Would win back her trust. Slim as it was, his only hope was to do what she wanted, and hope she came around.

"I won't kill. But if you think. . . If you ever need me, I'll be there. I promise. The claim, it won't go away. You just have to let me know you need me, and I'll come."

Spike couldn't remember anything more difficult than turning his back on her and walking away. It was too much, it was more than he could bear. He turned back around to fall on his knees to beg her to come back. But she was gone. He hadn't heard her run off, so she couldn't have gone far. But the fact that she had disappeared when his back was turned, that she hadn't stayed to watch him leave made it clear that she really did want him gone.

Hanging his head he left, never noticing that Darla had been watching the whole thing from a window above them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy sat staring out the window of the bus as she left L.A. behind. She didn't dare face Angel, and if she didn't get back to Sunnydale soon she knew she'd run after Spike.

The worst part was that he meant it. He really did believe that he had changed. That without the chip, and without a soul he could be good. That he could overcome his very nature for her.

She'd felt his sincerity through their bond, just as she'd felt his heartbreak when she'd told him that he had to leave. It had been the second hardest thing she'd ever done.

She wished she could be brave, be the young idealistic girl that had followed after Angel no matter what. That had believed love would conquer all and that if you just held on there would be a happy ending. But she knew where that got you. That got your friends dead, and sooner or later you ended up having to kill the person you loved.

She didn't have that anymore. She knew that. She loved Spike, and there was no way she could kill him. No matter what the cost, and she suspected the cost would be her soul. No, if he killed again, she wouldn't be able to stake him, she'd let it slide. And the next victim, and the next, until her soul was stained with every innocent life he took.

That was why he had to leave. Had to go away so she couldn't feel him any more. It was so that she would never have to face her worst fear. To choose between love and duty again.

Chapter 36:

When Buffy first got back to Sunnydale, she'd promised herself that she wasn't going to just sit around and cry and mope. At first she found other things to occupy her mind. Like Lou and the Mermaid's Grasp. So much had happened to her in the last few days that she'd forgotten her fear at being made helpless by the slimy strip club owner. So she figured she'd do something about it.

She didn't know exactly what he'd done to her, but she clearly remembered him putting on red sunglasses and then a bright flash of light. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that that this was a bad guy to be fought with accessories. So she bought herself a new set of shades, and paid a visit to the Mermaid's Grasp early the next morning.

It was all rather anticlimactic. The last time she and Spike had been there, the other patrons had been willing to join in the fray. But there had been a lot of customers that night. She had carefully planned her visit for a time when there would be few demons about, so once she had dispatched the bouncers he'd sicked on her nothing stood between her and Lou.

Lou, it turned out, had a severe allergy to pain. Even though she didn't remember hitting him, he sure did. Not the least because she'd broken his nose and given him two impressive black eyes. So he pretty much fell sobbing at her feet begging for mercy. She made it very clear to him that in the future he would leave humans alone, and that if she heard differently she would return and burn his place down.

As she strode away from the sleazy club, she felt let down by the lack of excitement. She'd been expecting this big showdown to distract her from the pain in her heart. Not a Willy-want-to-be who crumpled at the sight of a fist.

She actually managed to keep busy for a day and a half after that, because the new school year was about to begin and it was time for her to move back into the dorms. She told her friends that she didn't want any help so that it would take her longer, and so that they wouldn't ask her any questions about Spike and L.A.

Once the moving and unpacking was done, things were even worse. She'd managed to get a corner dorm room without a roommate. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Willow had wanted to move in with Tara, and Buffy had thought having a room that she could bring her boyfriend back to without worrying about disturbing a roommate had seemed perfect. Of course that had been when she was dating Riley. Now she wasn't dating anyone, and for the first time in her life she was living on her own.

It was terribly lonely. The next couple days were the most miserable of her life. This was worse than when Angel had left her, because not only did she have her own heartbreak and loneliness to deal with but she could feel Spike's as well. Distance hadn't diminished her connection to him, and she felt his emotions as strongly as if he was in the room with her.

She'd hoped class would distract her, but nothing was really happening in any of her classes. It was all going over rules and reading syllabi. She had very little homework, and nothing to do but sit in her room and think.

Thinking caused her to realize some very painful truths. The first one was that what she had done to Spike was almost exactly the same thing Angel had done to her. She'd made the decision for both of them, without really allowing him to have much input. This time she was the one who didn't have faith in the relationship.

But Angel had never had to deal with her pain, and she had to deal with Spike's. There was no pretending it wasn't real, or pretending he was better without her.

Almost worse than his pain, was the knowledge that he was up to something. She didn't know what. She couldn't read his mind–all she could feel was purpose. Spike was planning something and she was pretty sure it involved her somehow.

Half the time this frightened her. She imagined him returning to Sunnydale having arranged some grand romantic gesture that would take away all her will, and despite her better judgment, she would take him back. The other half of the time she hoped that he would return, whether he had a big romantic gesture or not (though if given a choice, she voted for romantic gesture).

Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, Giles tracked her down. He'd gotten a call from Angel and had found out not only about the claim, but also about Spike having his chip removed. She hadn't understood how Angel could have known about a chip, and she tried to distract Giles by pushing the issue. Finally they called Angel and learned that he had found out from Darla. It seemed that she had watched the entire break up scene.

Buffy had never had a very high opinion of Darla, but now she thought of her as little more than a busy body.

One good thing had come out of the whole tearful scene. Since he knew about the claim, she figured she might as well tell him about the mystery connection she had to Spike. Despite his anger and disappointment, the mystery of why his Slayer was becoming empathic with vampires was a research opportunity he could not pass up. He promised to look into it, muttering something about "the origins of the Slayer."

Buffy was just getting ready for patrol two nights later when she suddenly realized that Spike was closer than he'd been since she'd left L.A. As she concentrated on the bond she realized not only was he closer, but that he was moving toward her rapidly. She tried to examine his emotions and found both anxiety, and eagerness. He was coming home, back to her.

Now that it was actually happening, she didn't know how she felt about his return. She kept wavering between continuing on with her routine as if nothing had happened, or staying where she was. Finally indecision won out and she stayed within the safety of her dorm room, to which he had not been invited.

Then it came, the knock on her door. He was there, just outside within easy reach of her fists or her lips. She was scared to open the door. She was both afraid to face him, and afraid that he wouldn't really be there at all.

"Buffy?" he called through the door.

Her heart thudded in her throat. It was definitely him. She practically flew across the room and threw the door open.

"Spike I-"

RING!

The phone interrupted her.

"I um. . . " she started.

RING!

"Oh, dammit! Hold on."

Buffy rushed back over to her bed and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she snapped into the receiver.

"Buffy?" came Dawn's weepy voice.

'Great,' thought Buffy, 'Mom refused to buy her that new top she absolutely had to have and now she's calling me to complain.'

"Yeah, Dawn. What is it?"

"Mom, she. . . " Dawn was crying into the phone. "Oh God, Buffy. She didn't know who I was and the she just. . . she just fell. And-" Someone in the background interrupted Dawn and Buffy could hear men's voices.

Buffy wanted to yell at Dawn to get back on the phone. What did she mean that mom fell down? Mom's don't just fall down. Horrid seconds ticked by before Dawn's voice floated back over the telephone line.

"Buffy. . . the paramedics, they're taking us to the hospital."

"Okay, Dawn. It's Okay. You go with them. I'll be there right away."

She hung up the phone with a trembling hand.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" came Spike's worried voice.

She almost jumped. In the few short minutes she'd been on the phone with Dawn she'd forgotten about him completely. His words pushed her into action, however, and she headed for the door, not paying attention to whether he followed or not.

"My mom. I have to get to the hospital."

As she exited the dorm he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in a different direction.

"I have the bike. I'll drive you."

She could do nothing but nod.
A/N: Includes some excerpts from "Out of My Mind"

Chapter 37:

Buffy burst through the doors of the emergency room looking for her sister. Spike was right behind her. From one moment to the next, Buffy couldn't decide whether she found his presence comforting or not. It had certainly been nice on the ride over, having her arms around him as she pressed her cheek against his back. But Spike meant a whole other set of issues she had to deal with and if something was wrong with her mom, she didn't know how she would manage.

They found Dawn sitting in a hall playing with a stethoscope that was hung around her neck.

"Hey. How's Mom? Are you okay?" Buffy asked her sister while enveloping her in a big hug.

"I'm okay."

"And your mom's doing just fine," said a young man in a doctor's coat.

Buffy let go of Dawn and stood up to face the newcomer.

"This is Ben," Dawn introduced him. "He gave me his stethoscope."

"Lent you his stethoscope. Buffy, right?" He held out his hand to her. "I'm Ben, I'm an intern here. I've had the pleasure of hanging out with the renowned Dr. Dawn here while your mom's being tested."

Buffy shook his hand. The intern began to explain to her about her mom's condition. Reassuring Buffy over and over that there was no reason to think it was anything serious. It could be something as harmless as low blood sugar.

Buffy was trying hard to pay attention, but Dawn was flitting back and forth playing with the stethoscope. She listened to all of their hearts in turn. When she came to Spike, she giggled. Buffy wanted to roll her eyes, or shake her sister. Didn't she realize how serious this could be? Instead of paying attention to the doctor, Dawn was trying to listen to a heart that didn't beat.

Dawn was also making Spike nervous. His emotions were as all over the place as Buffy's, but when Dawn placed the stethoscope over his heart he became jumpy, even if he seemed to retain his normal cool on the outside. Buffy just figured his heart was sort of a sensitive subject.

"Hey." Buffy reached out to stop Dawn.

"S o r r y," Dawn replied sarcastically and sat back down in her chair, pouting.

"Why don't I take you to your mom?" Ben said, seeing the tension between the two sisters. "She's still got some tests, but I'm sure she's pretty bored and would like to see you."

Buffy nodded and followed Ben into one of the rooms where her mother was sitting in a hospital gown. Buffy and Dawn rushed forward to hug their mom while Spike hung back by the door.

"Hi," Joyce greeted her daughters.

"Hey. How are you?" Buffy asked.

"Oh . . . embarrassed, mostly. I'm sorry to put you through this. Hopefully these tests will be done soon so we can go home." She looked towards the door. "Hello, Spike. I've been wondering where you were. Come in, sit down."

"Uh, thanks." He moved clumsily into the room and took a seat to one side.

Buffy was relived to find her mom was still mom. Joyce easily took over the conversation, comforting her daughters, including Spike, and keeping everyone's mind away from the fact they were in the hospital with her usual grace.

There were more tests. When the doctors promised there would only be one more, they realized for the first time they didn't have a car. They decided that Spike would take Joyce's keys, ride his bike back to the Summers' house and bring her car back.

By the time he returned they were ready to go and he drove them all home.

For a little bit, Buffy sort of forgot about Spike. She could feel him hovering there at the edge of her house, not interfering as Buffy convinced Dawn that both she and their mother needed to get some sleep.

Finally, the house had quieted down. There was nothing left to do except confront the vampire who was lurking in her living room.

"Are you all right, pet?" he asked as she trudged down the stairs.

"Spike, you have to go," She couldn't deal with this right now. Not when all she wanted was for him to hold her and tell her that it would all be all right.

"Right," he mumbled and headed for the door. Then he turned back. "No, look. Love I know you've had a rough night, but I have to tell you something." He raised his hand to silence her as she started to protest. "It's nothing to do with us. It's probably nothing to do with. . . but it's something to do with something."

"Spike." She plopped down on the couch. "I really can't do cryptic tonight."

"Right. Sorry." He sat down next to her. "Do you remember, back in L.A, when you mentioned your sister, and I couldn't remember her?"

"Yeah, but what-"

"Just listen. I thought. . . well I thought maybe it had to do with the chip. I mean, for a moment there, I couldn't remember her existing at all. And then, just like that, I knew exactly who she was. So anyway, I went back to the doctor. Had them look at me brain again." Spike chuckled. "He was real upset. Claimed he didn't do anything wrong. Went on about how people always blame the brain surgeon first."

She just stared at him blankly, wondering why she was letting a vampire who could kill her or her family babble in her living room.

"Uh, well. Guess you had to be there. Anyway, he said it had nothing to do with the chip. It was a memory spell. He couldn't tell me much more, not quite his area, you know? So I've been up and down the coast, visiting every witch-doctor and mystic, trying to figure out this spell I'm under."

"Spike, what does this have to do with anything."

"It's Dawn. She's not. . . I don't know what she is, but she's not your sister. Look pet, I finally found someone to tell me what the spell was. It's her. I mean she's not the spell. But someone put a spell on me, and I'm guessing everyone else to make us think the nibblet was your sister."

"That's absurd. You're saying my sister is what? A demon spy?"

"No. . . I don't know what she is. Don't think she's a demon, though. She's got a heartbeat and all that, she even smells human. . . Oh! I could bite her, see if she's-"

"YOU ARE NOT," Buffy remembered her mother and sister were asleep upstairs and lowered her voice. "You are not biting my sister. Look, I don't know what this is about Spike, but this is the most ridiculous attempt at getting back together I've ever seen."

"This isn't about getting back together," he snapped back at her. "I'm trying to warn you. . ." He desperately looked for the words, after all he didn't know what he was trying to warn her about.

Buffy wasn't paying attention to that. She'd been so sure that whatever Spike had been up to, it was about her. About trying to get her back. She was hurt to know that he wasn't even trying to be with her.

"So you don't want to get back together?" she asked quietly.

"What? No. I mean, yes. I mean. . . Of course I want you, I just didn't think. You said. . . I didn't think. . . that is. . . "

Spike gave up on trying to find the right words. Instead, he fell back on what he knew best. He took her face in his hands, and before she could protest or move away, he kissed her.

It wasn't a kiss of crushing and overwhelming passion. It wasn't a long kiss, either. Just the barest brushing of their lips. But even so, Buffy could feel the deep longing in both of them in that brief moment.

It was too much. She'd been saying that to herself all night, but this time it really was. A damn broke inside her and once again she was crying in his arms. He held and rocked her. Whispering to her that it was all going to be okay. When she fell asleep, he carried her upstairs, tucked her into her bed, and kissed her goodnight. Chapter 38:

Buffy's fist crashed into the vampire's nose with a satisfying crunch. This was exactly what she needed to relax herself after the stressful day she'd had. Buffy had tried to spend the day pampering her mother. Unfortunately, Dawn kept doing stupid things to get her mother's attention, and her mother had been too busy for Buffy's liking.

It was almost enough to make you think your kid sister was a demon. Almost, but not quite. Sure, Dawn was evil, but it was bratty-kid-sister evil, not needs-to-be slain evil. Whatever Spike thought, Buffy was sure of this. It would have been easier if Spike had known about Ted, her mother's robotic ex-boyfriend, or Kathy her demonic roommate. Buffy had known both of them were evil, when everyone else just thought they annoyed her, and she had been right. Considering how much Dawn annoyed her, if she was evil she would have set off Buffy's spider sense a long time ago.

Which brought up another problem. What was she to do with Spike? She'd been disappointed when she'd woken up and he hadn't been there. True it made things easier, since she would have been stuck with him all day once the sun came up, but she didn't know what to make of it.

Did he want her or not? His emotions told her he loved her, but his actions raised some doubt. Buffy had learned the hard way that love wasn't enough. She did believe that Angel still loved her, but that hadn't meant he was willing to stay with her. And Spike had given in so easily. He hadn't fought the way she'd expected him to. All in all it just gave her a headache.

So she was more than happy to be pummeling the vampire. Unfortunately, she was so preoccupied that she slew him too quickly. She'd even been quipping on autopilot.

"Hey!" A man yelled at her as a bright light was shone in her face. A night watchman approached her. "Miss, if you're looking for one of those rave parties, I'm afraid you're late. Chased a bunch of kids out of here last night."

"Oh, right." Buffy quickly went along with the guard's explanation of why a young woman would be in the industrial district at night. "Yeah. Darn. My fellow ravers will be so disappointed. It was my turn to bring the Bundt cake."

"You know, if it was my call, I'd let you do whatever you want. It's not like anybody's using this place or nothin'. But they just don't pay me enough to argue with the boss, so..."

"Already gone," she assured him.

She turned to leave when the guard called her back. "Oh, hey! Hold it, Miss. Take your... whatever this is with you."

He bent over, picked up a large glowing yellow orb and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said as she looked at the curious object.

"Glow balls, huh?" He laughed. "I swear, I don't get your generation. What is that thing?"

Not really paying any attention to him, she replied, "I'll let you know as soon as I find out."

After a moment's consideration, she decided she did know what it was. It was a good excuse to talk to the vampire that had been stalking her all night.

She walked a distance away from the warehouse. Then she called out softly, "Any ideas?"

"About your new night-light? Not a one," Spike admitted as he stepped out of the shadows. He looked a little sheepish. "How'd you know I was there?"

"I always know where you are," she told him simply.

"Any word on your mum?" he asked her.

"No, still waiting on test results."

The walked deeper into Sunnydale's industrial district as Buffy continued her patrol.

He nodded. "Well, if you need any help. . . Slaying or taking care of your mum. Let me know."

"What?" Buffy was shocked. "You're not supposed to say that."

"Huh?"

"You're supposed to tell me that you're sure that it's nothing and that every thing's going to be okay."

"Oh, right. I'm sure it's nothing. Every thing's going to be okay," he said in a dead pan voice.

Buffy laughed. Spike looked startled for a moment, and then he joined in.

"Oh, god. Don't ever do that again," she told him.

"Never was good at the polite insincerity." He smiled at her and started to reach out his hand to touch her shoulder, but then he pulled back. "Seriously, Buffy. If you need anything, I know a thing or two about caring for the sick."

"I can't believe you just compared my mom to Drusilla!" Buffy spun around and started to walk away from him.

"No, I didn't mean. . . " He grabbed her arm to stop her. "I meant my mum."

That stopped Buffy dead in her tracks.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. What did she. . ."

"It's all right. luv. It was a long time ago. It was consumption. Uh, you call it tuberculosis nowadays."

"Did she. . ? I mean, of course by now. . . That is. . . "

"Did she die? That what you're trying to ask?"

"Yeah," she said weakly.

Despite his saying it was a long time ago, Buffy could tell the pain was still real for Spike. It surprised her a little. She knew Spike was capable of great love, but it was unusual for a vampire to care for any of the people they had cared for in life.

"How old where you when she. . . died?" she asked carefully.

Conflicting emotions spread through him. He felt guilty. She supposed that he felt that he should have been able to do more, been able to save her somehow. There was also revulsion, and Buffy wondered if his mother's death had been particularly ugly. It made her unsure if she should be asking about it. Although he had brought it up.

He stopped and leaned against the wall of the building they were passing. "I was. . . She didn't die of the consumption. I killed her."

He looked her in the eye, as if daring her to say something, But Buffy could feel his shame. It surprised her. Not that he'd killed her–that was pretty normal for a vampire–but that he felt shame about it, or grief. It did explain the guilt, though.

She moved close to him for the first time that night, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay. A lot of vampires kill thei-"

"It wasn't like that!" Spike interrupted her frustratedly. He broke away from her, and started pacing. "I know what you think," he continued. "You think I'm like Angel. Killed his dad cause he could never live up to his expectations." He saw her startled look. "Yeah, I know all about that."

Buffy was surprised, not so much at Spike's knowing that Angelus had killed his family, but the reasons he'd given for it. Buffy had never stopped to consider why Angelus, or any vampire would go back and kill their mortal family. It was just one of those things they did. She'd never really thought it was motivated by anything. It was odd, and a little frightening to think that a vampire's first acts were to take revenge for their mortal lives.

"It wasn't like that. I loved my mum. I was trying to. . ." He sank to the ground, hugging his knees. "Trying to save her." His voice softened, "You know. I thought I could make her better, that she'd be healthy. . ."

"But she wasn't your mother anymore," Buffy finished for him. She sat next to him and put her arm around him.

"Yeah, she was. . . It was pretty bad. I had to stake her, not fifteen minutes after she rose. But before that. . . before Dru, I took care of her for a couple years. So like I said. . ."

"Thanks," Buffy told him.

She hated him a little for the revelation he'd given her. Not because it made him seem more evil, but it made him more human. It was all too understandable. And it made her all the more vulnerable to him.

She'd talked to all her friends about her mother's hospital trip over the course of the day and they'd all offered her empty consolations. Spike had been the only one with the courage, or the understanding to really try and talk to her about it.

It frightened her more than anything ever had to think that her mother might be sick. That someone she loved might be endangered by something she couldn't fight. And Spike would get that. William understood what it was like to have a sick mother, and Spike understood the need to deal with your problems directly and with force.

"It's different now," Spike interrupted the silence. She looked at him quizzically. "In my day, doctors, all they could do was tell you how you were going to die, and how to make it hurt less. If something's wrong, they'll cure her up before you know it."

She smiled at him. "Spike-"

"Shh. Look, you could use a friend right now. Let me be your friend Buffy."

She rested her head against his shoulder. "Yeah, I'd like that." Chapter 39:

Spike had a hard time sleeping ever since he moved back into his crypt. For the first time he was aware of the fact that everything around him was dead, and still, and quiet. He'd gotten into the habit of leaving the TV on, just so there would be other voices around him.

He knew the reasons he had to return. He had even argued for them, still it was hard after the months he had spent living in the Summers' house to live alone in his crypt again.

He had moved in with the Summers women for two reasons. The obvious one, the reason that had initially been told to Dawn and the other Scoobies was to help Joyce while she was ill. The secondary reason known only to himself, Buffy, and Giles was to help protect Dawn from Glory.

Buffy had not been happy to find out that Spike had been right about all their memories of Dawn being fake. She'd been even less happy to find out that a group of monks had decided to simply shove a little sister into her life and expect her to guard said sister.

But Buffy was the Slayer, and she quickly accepted the new duty that had been thrust upon her. Besides, as she had told Spike when he'd tried to convince her that her sister wasn't her sister, she knew Dawn wasn't evil. She knew that Dawn belonged.

But once Joyce had recovered from her surgery, they could no longer pretend that her health was the reason he was staying there. Scared that his presence might tip off Glory to the fact that the Key was in the Slayer's house, he had moved out.

The crypt now felt quiet and lonely. He had grown used to the sounds of the three Summers women. He had grown used to being part of a family again.

"Poor little William," an all too familiar voice called from the sewer tunnels. "They've left him all alone. He thinks she'll love him. Thinks she'll trust him, but it doesn't matter they all fall down."

"Dru?" he called into the darkness.

The shadows seemed to part like curtains to let her through. Drusilla always knew how to make an entrance. Burns marred her beautiful pale face, but her eyes sparkled with stolen life. He could smell the sweet perfume of fresh death on her and it called to him.

Pale arms snaked around his neck as his Dark Princess pressed herself against him.

"What happened?" he asked, ghosting his fingers over her scarred flesh.

"We had a great party, Grand-mummy and I." She laughed with joy. "She's not Grand-mummy, she's my little girl now. I made her, and I'll love her forever, but she went away." Her smile turned into a frown and she whimpered.

"Darla burned you?" he asked.

"No, we thought it was Daddy, but it wasn't. He let us have our party, though. Knocked them all down, all but two. But then he tricked us, he burned us. Why is it never Daddy?" Tears spilled down her alabaster cheeks.

Habit overtook Spike and he brushed them away, gently bringing her cheek to rest against his chest. He rocked her as if she were a small child, comforting her.

"Hush, now, luv. You'll be fine. Angel won't come for you here."

After a few moments she stopped crying and began to purr softly.

"I've missed you, Spike. Have you missed me?" She pulled back a little to fix him with her eyes.

"I did miss you, Dru, but it's been too long." He tried to pull away from her, but she held him tightly.

"We'll be a family again. You're my knight not hers," she insisted.

"No, Dru," he told her firmly. This time he forcibly broke away. "You can't just come back and expect me to follow you around like a puppy. Not anymore."

"No, you're her dog now. But she doesn't give you scraps."

She slipped down the shoulder of her dress, exposing more of her breasts. She opened her arms and approached him, running her hands over his chest.

"Come back to me, you belong to me. There is only blood and tears for you here, and they will not make you laugh. They will dig you open, and toss you aside. Shhh, they will not tell their secrets."

He listened to her, trying to determine what among her ramblings were prophecies, and what was merely an attempt to get him back.

That's when it occurred to him. He could chain her up, get Buffy, and prove his love. He would stake Drusilla in front of Buffy and then she would know that he was good. She would take him back.

"There is nothing here but the tower for you," Drusilla accused him.

The look in her eyes told him she knew what he was thinking.

"Death and ashes. Death and ashes. It bleeds, and they all turn away," she ranted.

Drusilla looked him in the eye. She took two steps back, and then she ran back towards the sewer tunnels she'd come from.

He was on her in an instant. Tackling her to the ground. Insane shrieking filled the air, as the two vampires struggled. It didn't last long. Drusilla was still recovering from her burns, and Spike was the better fighter. As much as it still pained him to do it, he beat her until he could drag her to the chains that hung along one wall of the crypt.

He chained her, double checked to make sure that she could not pull free. Then he grabbed a cell phone from next to his bed, careful to shield it from Drusilla's eyes.

It embarrassed him to own a cell phone, but Buffy and Joyce had insisted that if he was going to help protect Dawn, they needed a way to keep in touch with him, and there was no way to get a regular phone line to his crypt.

He moved to the upper level and flipped open the phone. Hitting the speed dial he called Buffy's phone. It was bad enough they made him carry the damn thing, it was somehow worse being part of their family calling plan, but Joyce insisted that it was more economical for her to pay the phone along with phones for the girls, than for him to have his own.

He called Buffy and asked her to meet him at his crypt as soon as she could. While he waited he listened to Dru. He was fairly sure that a lot of what she was saying was to just to keep him from staking her, but some of it was most likely prophecy, and Spike had learned it was always best to listen and remember what she said.

He heard the door to his crypt open and rushed up to greet Buffy.

"Spike! What is it? What's happened? Is it Glory?"

"Easy, luv. Didn't mean to frighten you. It's nothing to do with Glory. Just want to show you something. Do you have a stake?" he asked.

"What?! You had me completely panicked. And of course I have a stake!"

He held out his hand and she handed him the wooden stake, glaring at him the whole time.

Dru took up wailing below.

"What's that?" Buffy asked.

"A present," he told her as he beckoned her to follow him to the lower level.

"No, no, no, no, no," Drusilla was moaning over and over again.

"Drusilla?" Buffy asked wide eyed as she saw the chained vampire. "What the hell is going on, Spike?"

"What do you think, pet. She came back. Wanted me to go with her. But I wouldn't. I wanted to show you, luv. Show you that it's over."

He approached Drusilla with the stake raised.

"Whoa! Hold on," Buffy ordered him. He paused, confused. This wasn't the reaction he'd anticipated. "Let me get this straight. You're going to stake your ex-girlfriend because. . ." She waited for him to finish for her.

"To prove I love you. To prove I'm not evil anymore."

Drusilla began to laugh. "She doesn't see. But she will when the worms have her eyes. Scratch, scratch. Scratch, scratch."

"Yeah, okay," was Buffy's only comment on the insane vampire's ramblings. "Look, I get this. Kind of, but killing your ex-girlfriend to prove you love me, kind of creepy. Besides, I know you love me."

"No, you don't," Spike insisted. "If you knew how much. . . You wouldn't doubt me, pet. Not if you knew."

"Eyes on the inside, do you feel the worms when they bite?" Drusilla asked.

"I do, and can we either stake Drusilla or move somewhere else, really hard to have a serious conversation here."

"Just like that? You want me to casually stake my sire? You won't even admit that it means anything," Spike argued.

"I didn't say that," Buffy insisted. "I get it. But I mean, it makes a girl wonder; if you move on from me, will you come back to kill me for your next girlfriend?"

Spike roared in frustration and threw the stake against the wall. "Maybe I should just let her go and see which one of you kills the other first. Hmm?"

"Oh, yes, I like that plan," Drusilla chimed in.

"You see," Buffy said with frustration. "This is the point. I know you don't mean it, but why would you even say that? I can't. . . I can't talk to you when you're like this."

With that Buffy headed back up the ladder to the upper level and the door.

"Wait, luv," Spike called after her. He grabbed her arm to slow her down. "This went all wrong somehow. Please, I'm just trying to. . ."

But Buffy broke free from his grasp and opened the crypt door, stepping out into the sunshine.

"I'll see you later, okay?" she asked. But she didn't wait for him to follow. Instead, she walked off into the afternoon sun where he couldn't follow, leaving him behind, and alone.

Chapter 40:

For a while Spike did nothing but rant and rave. Not to Drusilla, who was still chained on the lower level, but simply to the stone walls of his crypt. Why was it that nothing he did ever went right?

Finally he settled down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. But the calm only lasted a moment. Below his feet he could hear Drusilla trying to pull loose the chains that bound her.

Wearily he descended to the lower level to deal with her. To his surprise she was silent as he picked up the stake he'd thrown earlier and approached her. He stroked her cheek with his hand and looked sadly at her. It wasn't as if he didn't love her anymore, it just wasn't enough.

"Good bye, William. You should have run while you could," she told him.

"Good bye, Dru."

He kissed her forehead and plunged the stake into her heart. There was a strange sensation as her face turned to dust in his hand.

Once the last of her dust had crumbled through his fingertips, he fell to the ground where he stood and began to cry. He lost track of everything as he lay on the floor sobbing, so it startled him when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Buffy's soft voice said. "Both for what I said, and for Drusilla."

He sat up and started to wipe the tears from his eyes, trying to control his sobbing.

"No, don't," she told him. "You should cry. It's okay."

She wrapped her arms around him, pulled his face close to her chest, and ran her fingers through his hair. For a moment he tried to resist, but he felt so comforted by her touch and her scent that instead he found himself beginning to cry all over again.

He didn't know how long he sat there, being rocked in Buffy's arms, and listening to her murmur comforting words. Finally he had no more tears, and reluctantly pulled away from her.

She was smiling sadly at him. "You okay?" she asked.

"What'd you care?" he sulked.

"I care. Look, I am sorry. I just was kind of surprised. I thought. . . I don't know that maybe you'd found a weapon to fight Glory or something. 'Cause you know, if anyone could find some mythical what's it that isn't even really supposed to exist, it's you."

He snorted, refusing to be won over by her flattery, as he continued to wipe away his tears.

"It's just," she continued. "It was sort of this horrible deja vu."

"Huh?"

"It was just after I found out that Angel was a vampire that he killed Darla. It was sort of like, 'See I'm a good vampire, I killed my sire.' I don't think Angel cried though."

Spike started up defensively, "Yeah, well-"

"No, I mean. It's good you cried. I never really knew if it meant anything to Angel. I mean, he didn't exactly make a big deal of it, but. . . Well it was always hard to know what Angel thought about anything." She stopped and looked at him seriously, "I should tell you something, and you're going to be mad."

He looked at her suspiciously. Was it finally coming? Was she finally going to tell him to go away forever? Technically she'd already told him that once, but would she really mean it?

"There's this thing. It has to do with being the Slayer. I can sense vampires. The thing is ever since we. . . first had sex, it's been getting stronger when it comes to you. At first it was just that I could pick you out from any other vampire, and then I knew where you were no matter what. The closer we get the stronger it gets and I can sort of. . . " She took a deep breath. "Sense your emotions."

Spike was stunned; he wasn't expecting anything like this. He didn't even know how to respond. "How long. . ?"

"The emotion thing, sometime in L.A. There wasn't an exact moment. It's not like someone suddenly turned on a Slayer switch or anything. Look. . . before you say anything, the reason I told you is because I want you to know that I really know. I know that you love me and how much. It's not you I doubt, Spike. It's me I don't trust. If something happened, I don't know if I could stop you in time."

He got up pushing her away from him. "That's just. . . stupid. If you trust me, which obviously you don't, then it wouldn't matter because you'd know I'd never put you in the situation where you'd have to stop me."

"Well yeah, when you get all logical about it. I want to Spike. I want so much to let you be strong for me. To just give in, but I'm the Slayer, and if I'm weak. . ."

"Love doesn't make you weak, pet. You're the good guy, you're supposed to know that." He sat back down next to her. "And if you let me help a little, if you let me take just a small part of your burden, it doesn't mean you aren't strong enough, just means you're saving your strength for the things that really matter."

"I don't know. . ."

"Shh, listen to me. I know I can't take it all away. I know that when the chips are down, you're the one who's going to have to save the world, and I may be able to help some, but I can't take that over for you. But being with me, that doesn't mean you can't do that, too. Do you think I want to take you away from you mum, and the bit? Why is it all right to help if we're friends, but not if we're lovers?"

"See there you go with the logic again. But you're forgetting Hellmouth logic. It's when you give in that things go all kerplewy. There will be a curse, or a prophecy or something and it'll all go bad."

He chuckled, "You're a real piece of work Summers, you know that? You're not afraid that you won't be strong enough, even you aren't that daft. You're afraid to be happy. Trying to avoid all the cliches here, but isn't it better to try and be happy for as long as you can? If you really trust me, then trust me to help you through whatever comes. Is that really too much to ask?"

She looked him in the eyes for what seemed an eternity. Thinking over his words, weighing her fears against her desires. Finally, slowly, she leaned forward and kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up off the floor and onto the bed. He pulled back to look in her eyes for permission. She nodded slightly and he lay down next to her. He could tell that she was still scared, but it was a first step, and with time he was convinced he could show her that they were the one thing she didn't ever have to fear.

The End