A/N: BIG thanks to Darkezza for betaing my story.

Chapter One: The Encroaching Darkness

Through some unknown portal, in some mysterious dimension, Buffy stood before three ancient shamans, chained to the rock face of a cold dim cave.

“What is this?” she inquired, as she came to and discovered her imprisonment.

In their primordial dialect, each one of the mystics responded. “We are at the beginning,” one said stoically.

“The source of your strength. The well of the slayer’s power,” said another.

“This is why we have brought you here,” finished the third.

“I thought I brought me here,” Buffy replied, confusion etched plainly on her face, which quickly morphed into annoyance. “Look…listen, you guys. I’m already the Slayer; bursting with power. I really don’t need anymore.”

“The first Slayer did not talk so much,” one shaman commented as Buffy struggled with the chains. Suddenly the three men began to stomp their staffs against the ground, creating an ominous pounding that resembled the beating of war drums. The beat intensified, sustained by two men, while a third approached the Slayer with a closed wooden box. Placing it on the ground before her, he slowly slid off the lid. “Here lies your truest strength,” he said, stepping away from the open vessel.

“The energy of the demon. Its spirit.”

“Its heart.”

Shocked, Buffy stared at the box. “This is how you…?”

“Created the Slayer? Yes,” one mystic answered her unfinished question.

Slowly, a black mist rose from the box, free from its confinements, remaining for the moment suspended above its former prison. Scared, Buffy frantically tried to follow its erratic movements, unsure of what was to happen, what the shamans intended to do with this demon spirit.

The drums continued to beat and the essence continued to dance in the air above her. “It must become one with you.”

“No!” Buffy refused, still struggling with her bindings.

“This will make you ready for the fight,” one shaman declared, in the hopes that she would cooperate.

“By making me less human?” she retorted, obviously unhappy about the catch to this offering of power.

“This is how it was then. How it must be now.”

“This is all there is,” one of the men warned. In their minds, there was no alternative to defeating the First.

And with that, the mist descended upon Buffy, assaulting every inch of her, consuming her entirely. Screaming, she tried to push it away; refusing to accept the supposed gift she was being offered. Pulling at the chains, the slayer glared at the men watching her. “Make this stop.”

“This is what you came for,” one said, again without any hint of emotion.

“No, this isn’t the way!” she declared angrily.

“Do not fight this.”

The blackness was upon her again, invading her very being. Buffy couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. It was like walking into the abyss, like drowning in dark waters where your lungs are about to burst but all you can think about in your last seconds is that you’ve gone blind. She was becoming petrified at the idea that this thing would take her over from the inside.

“No! Stop! Please, stop! I don’t want this! This isn’t the way!” Buffy screamed, struggling against the chains as she tried to flee from the demonic mist. But it was relentless and no amount of refusing and denial could stop it from consuming her. She would become one with it.

As the last bit of the essence entered her, Buffy collapsed face down on the ground. The inside of the cave began to spin, the emotionless faces of the men who did this to her started to blur into one another. But their eyes remained transfixed upon the slayer and she felt as though their gazes burned right through to her very core. Nausea took hold of her. Grabbing her side she sprawled out on the ground, clinging to it as everything around her spiraled out of control. Buffy shut her eyes and surrendered to the power.




********


The blinding light emitted by the portal filled the living room, touching everything and everyone within it. Shaking in Xander’s arms, Willow tried to calm herself down; too frightened by her actions to consider the ramifications of using Anya and, especially Kennedy as human energy boosters. Hauling the enormous, yet dead demon, Spike flung it into the awaiting portal anticipating the exchange and Buffy’s return. Before the portal closed, they found Buffy face down on the living room floor, unconscious.

“Buffy!” Dawn yelled, afraid that her sister was dead. Kneeling beside her and realizing she was alive, she turned to the group. “She’s alive, but she’s out cold.”

“We better get her upstairs,” Xander said. “I think we should all call it a night.”

Without instruction or hesitation, Spike knelt down and scooped the unresponsive Buffy in his arms and made his way upstairs, with Dawn trailing quietly behind him. Xander opted to stay downstairs with Anya when Willow had finally calmed down. The potential slayer and witch soon followed up the stairs.

“Hey,” Willow called out once they reached the upstairs hallway. “You okay? You’ve been kinda quite since…”

“You sucked the life out of me?” Kennedy asked, finishing Willow’s question.

“Yeah. Since then,” she solemnly confirmed. “Look, it’s important that you know what I am. What I’m like when I’m like that.”

“I thought it would be, I don’t know, cool somehow. It just hurt,” Kennedy replied, looking as though she was still in pain.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry. Just, you were the most powerful person nearby and well…that’s how it works. That’s how I work,” Willow stated sadly.

“I got that. You told me… I’ll see you in the morning,” Kennedy responded, turning into her room and closing the door on her girlfriend.

Needing a distraction, Willow headed to Buffy’s room where no doubt Spike and Dawn were. She found them both there, as she had expected. The Slayer had been dressed in her pajamas and was tucked into bed, just as unconscious as she had been when she had returned.

“Still out?” Willow asked, genuinely concerned.

Dawn looked up at the witch and nodded, “She hasn’t even made a single sound. I just hope she wakes up soon,” Dawn choked, her lip quivering, still a little shook up from seeing her sister so powerless.

“She will, Nibblet,” Spike said in an effort to comfort her while his eyes never left Buffy’s sleeping form. Though she was never out of his sight, Spike did not sit by her as Dawn did, but kept his vigil in one of the room’s corners. Unfortunately, by keeping his eyes on the Slayer he never noticed Dawn’s big doe eyes gleaming with tears.

“You called me Nibblet,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

Pulled out of his concentrated observance of Buffy, he glanced over to Dawn, which upon setting his eyes on her face, almost made his heart beat again. Her response to his long unused nickname for her and the sentiment behind it slowly sunk in. “Yeah, guess I did.”

Staying seated in the chair next to Buffy’s bed, Dawn didn’t move, but every emotion crossed her face. She suddenly became very aware that Spike and Willow were watching her, making her turn her gaze down to the floor as a tiny smile spread over her lips. “I guess you really are back. God, I didn’t think I’d miss your annoying nick names so much,” Dawn said, with a slight touch of melancholy.

Thrown by her sudden and unexpected affirmation, a tense Spike gradually relaxed when she lifted her head again and smiled at him.

Before he could respond, Dawn started to speak. “I get that you want us to see you the way we once did; Big Bad attitude and all. But if… if you want me to see you the way I once did, you gotta promise me something. You gotta not do anything to make me hate you again. Cuz, it really sucks not being able to talk to you and last year was just horrible and I don’t know if I can go through that again,” Dawn slightly rambled, staring at the floor. “So, don’t screw it up. I don’t want to hate you anymore,” she finished, lifting her eyes up to meet his, wishing to see how he responded.

Gazing down into her bright blue eyes, Spike melted and guilt ripped his insides into a million shreds. “I promise. Never again, Bit,” he croaked, not wanting to go all weepy in front of the girls. After all, he had a newly restored Big Bad persona to maintain.

After a few seconds, Dawn nodded, assured by his sincerity before turning her attention back to her sister. Spike looked at Willow, who smiled at him with a reassuring look of acceptance. Taking in an unnecessary breathe in hopes of easing his nerves, he slowly inched closer to the Slayer’s bed, but stopped dead in his tracks when she began to violently thrash.

“Buffy?!” Dawn called out to her sister.

She didn’t answer, her entire body convulsed and arched off the bed. It was like watching an exorcism, but for all they knew, she wasn’t possessed. Soundlessly she continued to thrash around and those that loved her stood there, unsure of what to do. It was eerie. Her face was set in a painful grimace, but she didn’t even make a whimper, as though it was too agonizing to scream. All that could be heard was the loud squeak of mattress springs giving in to the force of Buffy’s spasms. It ended as quickly as it started with the deafening sound of silence filing the room once again. Wide-open eyes stricken with terror stared up at the group before her. “Buffy, luv?” Spike peered down, scared of what the portal might have done to her.

Willow made her way towards her friend and knelt by her bed. Taking her trembling hand, she began to speak to her. “Buffy, you’re safe and home. Dawn and Spike and I, we’re here. You’re safe.”

Her chest had been heaving the moment since she had awakened and slowly it stilled into a steady rhythm of breaths. Emotion returning to her eyes, she appeared to recognize those around her. “What happened?” she asked.

Spike, Dawn and Willow all exchanged worried glances. “We were hoping you could tell us,” Dawn said, giving her sister an encouraging smile, though the knot in her stomach was still churning. Buffy made herself sit up, in obvious pain; she accepted Willow’s assistance in propping her up with pillows. Letting out a sigh that was a mixture of exhaustion and relief, she stared up at those around her.

“I was there, with those shadow men, the ones who created the first Slayer.”

“Did they tell you how to defeat the First?” Willow inquired, praying the dangerous and potentially relationship-damaging use of her magic had not been in vain.

Buffy looked at the three, eyes once again glazed over. “Before I passed out, I think they sent me a vision or something. I saw what the First is hiding beneath that seal.” She paused, uncertain of how to tell them.

“What Buffy? What did you see?” Willow prodded.

“I saw that we might not win this,” Buffy answered, tears streaming down her face. “An army of hell doesn’t even begin to describe.”

Her words had left them all stunned. If Buffy believed she couldn’t defeat it, that this was going to be the end, then what did that leave them? Spike was the first to break the silence. “Best you get to sleep, luv.” It was all he said. It was all that he could say. Curling into her comforter Buffy watched as they left the room, only allowing sleep to take over when she finally felt too tired to be petrified.

“This isn’t good,” Willow stated as she closed the door behind her.

“No kiddin’, Red. Never seen her so distraught. Not even with Glory,” Spike said, concern marring his brow.

“Maybe, she’s just really tired,” Dawn suggested, knowing it wasn’t the case.

“Maybe,” Spike mumbled. He couldn’t get over the feeling that Buffy had been keeping something from them, that she was hiding what was actually scaring her. Understandably, an army of Hell was frightening, but it didn’t explain the fact that she sounded like she was ready to give up. He didn’t say anything to Dawn or Willow. He knew they wouldn’t believe him, or wouldn’t want to, anyway.

Wishing them goodnight, Spike headed to the basement to spend the night alone with the gnawing suspicion that the woman he loved was lying to them, and that it was going to be the ruin of them all.


*some dialogue taken from Get It Done
Chapter 2: Admissions


Buffy’s sleep had been dreamless and when she had awoken, it was much into the late morning, the bright California sun creeping into her room through the barely closed blinds. She felt as though she had been beaten with the Troll Hammer about seventy times and any movement she made set her stiff muscles ablaze. Buffy had to get to the bathroom; a shower would help. Actually, what would help would be that Slayer healing kicking in, but a shower wouldn’t hurt. She hoped.

The slayer slowly dragged herself out of bed, placing both feet on the floor and steadily getting up. She had never been this weak. Was it the demon mist? Why didn’t she feel any different? Correction; why didn’t she feel any different inside? She had some demon spirit or demon heart or whatever the hell it was, in her. Shouldn’t she be a little demonic? The contemplating gave Buffy a headache so she just focused on getting to a shower.

Emerging from her room, Buffy entered an empty upstairs hallway. No girls, which meant a free bathroom. With some perseverance, she managed to get undressed and get under the hot spray of the water, allowing its therapeutic warmth soothe her aching body. Only now did Buffy allow herself to continue her musing. Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, she squeezed a dollop onto her hands and massaged it into her scalp. If the demon spirit was what made the first Slayer, then it had to be what was passed down from one slayer to another. This meant that every slayer before her had been part demon, and that since the moment she had been called, Buffy was too.

Finished with the scrubbing, she rinsed her blond head. The essence that had taken over her should only then magnify her strength, right? Then why didn’t she feel any different? Buffy didn’t feel stronger or like she had this great power surging through her. All Buffy felt was just violated. Completely violated. She had begged them to stop and they still did that to her. She had felt like this once before and she never wanted to again, but here she was, in her bathroom, wondering what the hell they had actually done to her. The slayer realized as she looked around that she had somehow ended up sitting in the middle of the bathtub with her arms wrapped around her. Buffy was crying, sobbing and she hadn’t even noticed. ‘What’s wrong with me?’


********

Sipping his afternoon mug of microwaved pig’s blood, Spike lounged on his basement cot, content with the solace his new abode offered. It let him think without having twenty something teenage girls bugging him every other bleedin’ second. It was just too hectic for him, and since Buffy was resting, there wouldn’t be any slayerette training so he could keep to himself and enjoy the partial silence of…a washer and dryer?

“Must you do that now?” Spike asked, clearly annoyed.

“Well, yeah,” Dawn replied. “Clean clothes, up there on the Important Things To Do list. Bad enough we got a house full of girls; don’t need them all wearing sweaty clothes. Funky smells not so fun.” Stuffing the machine, she closed the lid and made her way to the vampire. Smiling, she scooted over next to him, her back flat against the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Spike asked.

“What’s it look like? I’m sitting here,” she replied, grinning.

“I can see that. But why?”

“Cuz, I feel like it. Plus, Andrew’s starting to videotape everyone and it’s kinda creepy.”

Eyeing her, he shrugged. “Whatever. Just don’t start up with the yammering. Came down here for some peace and quiet.”

“Peace and quiet? What reality are you living in? You know there’s no such thing,” Dawn stated. Taping her fingers on her leg she searched for a conversation starter. “So, other than being antisocial, what d’you plan on doing today?” she asked, cheerily.

“Dunno. Smoke, sit, might go out and patrol when it gets dark,” he answered, unenthusiastically.

“Sounds boring.”

“Never said it was gonna be fun.”

Dawn shifted to Spike, studying his apathetic demeanor. Turning to look out at the empty space in front of her, she asked, “Why aren’t you waiting for Buffy to wake up?”

“Who says I’m not,” he replied, a little surprised at the shift in discussion.

“I do. You’re not pacing, or making snarky impatient remarks, or smoking fifty cigarettes one right after the other. You’re just here, wallowing.”

“I’m not wallowing!” he indignantly stated.

“Oh, please. If it’s not wallowing then it’s brooding. Either way, it’s not you,” she said, looking back at him.

“Damn right it’s not. I do not wallow and I sure as hell don’t brood.”

“Well, then tell me what you’re doing sitting here all unSpike like?”

“Just thinking, is all,” he admitted.

“About what?” she asked, her tone conveying utmost seriousness.

“Lil’ nosy today, aren’t we?” he joked without intending to.

“Hey, that’s what little sisters are for, right?” She said it so casually that Spike might have almost missed it. Almost. Did she think of him as her brother? Had she always felt that way, even the past year when things had gone so horribly wrong? Did she love him like she would a brother? He didn’t deserve her love, especially after how he had decimated their friendship. The total black and white shift in their relationship made him wonder if she had forgiven him. And if his Nibblet could forgive him, then maybe there was hope for him yet. His hand started to tremble and he tried to desperately keep it cool. He couldn’t loose face, even if it was with Dawn. She continued, oblivious to his inner struggle. “So spill.”

“Buffy,” he managed to say. Clearing his throat to wave away the emotions playing with his vocal chords, he tried again. “I was thinking about Buffy.”

Giving him a ‘no, duh!’ look, Dawn asked the obvious question. “What happened last night, you mean?”

Spike nodded. Deciding to take the first step, he told her. He could trust lil’ Bit. “She’s hidin’ something.”

Dawn stared at him for a good minute. He wasn’t sure if she was going to disagree, but he didn’t really care if she did. He knew he was right. But having Dawn on his side wouldn’t hurt. When she finally spoke, it wasn’t what Spike had expected. “I think you’re right. I had this feeling after she told us what happened, but it didn’t make sense. Sure, army of hell, but Buffy never gives up, or at least never admits it. Something else happened in that dimension.”

“Have to agree with you there, Bit. Didn’t say anything last night ‘cos didn’t think you an’ Red would believe me,” he admitted.

It was Dawn’s turn to shrug. “We might have but it doesn’t really matter now. We gotta find out what happened to her.”

“She isn’t gonna tell us. Not willingly anyway,” Spike commented, putting his finished cup of blood on the floor next to the cot.

“We’ll figure out a way. Maybe we should wait. She might just be a little shook up. Maybe she will come to us,” Dawn said.

“I hope you’re right,” Spike replied, unintentionally placing his hand on top of hers.

“Do you still love her?”

The question startled him. He hadn’t expected this little reunion with Dawn to be so expositional.

“Yeah, I still love her.”

His dead heart nearly burst out of his chest when he felt her warm hand curl up and give him a reassuring squeeze.


********

Buffy made her way down the steps, feeling a little better after a shower and a good cry, but it still took her a while to get downstairs without loosing her balance and falling on her ass. There were a few girls in the living room, but from what she could see, she figured they were out in the backyard training. A little relieved, she made her way to the kitchen, where she could see Willow and Xander. She stopped near the doorway, listening to what they were saying, not wishing to interrupt.

“…I’m so stupid,” she heard Willow exclaim.

“Hey. There will be none of that. You did what you had to, Will. She knows you didn’t mean to hurt her, but you had to, to bring Buffy back,” Xander consoled.

“It’s just, what if she doesn’t want to be with me anymore now that she knows what I really am? What if it all ends before it even begins?” Willow asked, choking with emotion.

“It’ll work out. Kennedy will realize she can’t be without you and learn to forgive. If you’re meant to be, she’ll realize that beneath the sometimes scary witchy exterior, is a gorgeous woman whose only human and makes mistakes,” Xander told her, never more sure of himself.

“You were always good with the cheering up,” Willow sniffled.

“It’s the thing I do. That and fixing stuff.”

Buffy could hear her two best friends laughing and wished she could be that easily comforted. It was at that moment that she wished Spike were there, with his out of nowhere presence, nonchalant attempts at comedic relief and long silent pauses. Instead, she was standing in the kitchen doorway and he was most likely asleep in the basement, both of them alone.

“Buffy, you’re up!” Willow said, pulling Buffy out of her train of thought. “You should have stayed in bed. I was just about to go up and check on you.”

“It’s okay, Will. I’m fine. Just caffeine, please,” Buffy replied, sitting between the two, accepting the cup of java Xander handed her.

“Hungry?” Xander asked.

Buffy nodded which made Xander offer her some of his buttered toast. “Thanks,” she said, nibbling on the food, still unsure if the nausea from bizarro world had completely dissipated.

“Will told me what happened, Buff. So, an army of hell, eh? Don’t worry; we can take ‘em,” he declared, smiling as only Xander could smile at the most inappropriate times.

“There were just so many. We’re basically sitting ducks ‘til the First decides to open up the seal and unleash hundreds upon hundreds of ubervamps,” she said, wishing it weren’t true.

“So we prepare and research and plan. Full out Scooby tactics,” Willow babbled, needing to lessen the burden on her best friend.

“I’ll even go on a donut run,” Xander offered.

“Promise? Jelly-filled, too?” Buffy managed to smile.

“I promise.”

Looking down at her watch, Buffy couldn’t believe it was already noon. Oh crap! Her job. “Please tell me its Saturday,” she groaned.

“Okay, it’s Saturday,” Xander replied.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And if it weren’t, Principal Wood would totally understand. Easy day off,” Xander reassured as Buffy let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Buffy are you okay? I mean, wonky portal and shadowmen encounters aside, you really freaked us out last night. You kinda went all Linda Blair,” Willow told her, concerned.

“You mean with projectile vomit and three-sixty head spins?” Buffy inquired, getting a slightly freaked.

“Uhh, no. More like uncontrollable thrashing,” Willow explained. “It was like you were having a seizure. I had no idea how to help you and before I could even suggest anything, you stopped.”

“And then I woke up, right?” Buffy asked, receiving a nod from Willow.

“Do you remember any of it, Buffy?” Xander asked.

“No. Last thing I remember was blacking out in the other dimension. That and the not so reassuring vision of the First’s army.”

“So what do we do now?” Xander asked.

“You can keep an eye on the training; I don’t want Kennedy to get carried away. And Will, I know were running low on food, could you…”

“Grocery shopping, no problem. I’ll go over the list before I head out.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said as she stood up.

“What about you Bufffster? What’s on the day’s agenda?”

“Gotta check up on Dawn. After that, I’ll join you and supervise the girls.” And with a smile, Buffy made her way out of the kitchen and into the foyer. ‘Where the hell was Dawn, anyway?’


*******


“Better get upstairs, ducks. Big sis is probably up and most likely lookin’ for you,” Spike stated, motioning for Dawn to head back upstairs.

But before Dawn could even lift her butt off the cot, she heard her sister head down the basement steps. She was happy she was awake, but as she watched Buffy descend, Dawn spotted the flinches and the knotted brow. Her sister was in obvious pain, but was too stubborn to stay in bed. It made her feel a little relieved; she was still the same old Buffy, in that respect anyway.

“Buffy, you’re awake!” Dawn called out.

“The way you all talk around here, someone would think I had some sort of sleeping disorder,” she commented sarcastically, coming to stand before her sister and ex-lover.

“Well, it’s not completely untrue,” Dawn retorted, smiling. Her face was starting to hurt from all the happies going on today, but she didn’t really care.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Buffy faux laughed, offering her own smile in response to Dawn’s.

All the while, through the sisterly banter, Spike sat unmoved, scrutinizing Buffy’s every appearance, every action, in the attempt to catch something, a clue or anything that might indicate that she was keeping something from them. He tried to not appear blatant in his scrutiny but she caught him. He quickly said something, “Feeling alright, pet?”

“Yeah. Willow told me I was all Exorcist girl before I woke up last night. Probably explains why my muscles were all achy this morning,” she replied, needing them to believe she was fine. Deciding she wanted to talk about anything else, she eyed the two of them comfortably sitting on the cot. “And when did you two form the Basement Club?”

“We were just hanging out. Geesh, Buffy,” Dawn exasperated, smiling at Spike as she slinked off the bed and headed to the stairs. “See ya later, Spike?”

“Sure thing, Nibblet.”

Buffy stood and watched the spectacle, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as her head went from Dawn to Spike and back to Dawn. Turning on her heel, she followed Dawn up the steps, wondering what had transpired between her little sister and her once vampire lover so that they were now again on friendly terms. She couldn’t help but wish that her relationship with Spike was that easily fixable.


********


Smack. The fledgling went sprawling to the ground, never knowing what hit him. Suddenly, someone pounced on him, fists pounding his face, making it impossible to get up. “First, she doesn’t love me,” Spike growled, punching the newly risen vamp in the gut. “Then, she starts shagging me; usin’ me,” he continued, roughly picking the vamp up by the lapels of the suit he’d been buried in. “Couldn’t love me ‘cos I was lacking in the soul department,” he stated, tossing his victim into a nearby tombstone. “Go out and get my bleedin’ soul back, go bug shaggin’ crazy and for what? For her to call me a bloody poofter in front of everyone!” he exasperated, throwing his arms up in the air.

The vampire he had been pummeling groaned as he slowly rose to his feet, wobbling around as he tried to get his bearings. “Dude, who are you talking to?” he asked, his hand holding his head and he staggered toward Spike.

“Nobody,” Spike answered as he backhanded the vamp, the blow making him fly back into the crumbling tombstone. “So then, I do what she wants. Get all bad ass again; kill the fucking demon and does she even notice? Do I get a little recognition? Did I even get a fucking hello this morning? NO!” Spike screamed as he rammed the stake in his hands into the vamp’s chest, the dust coating his boots.

Letting out a depressed sigh, Spike trudged along the cemetery, continuing his patrol. That had been his seventh vamp that night. He hadn’t told Buffy he was going out. He should have since the First still technically had its hold on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually face her. He knew if he had, he would have said something that he’d immediately regret. So he decided to go out alone, let out some steam and then head back and face the music. Lord knows that the moment she’d ask something of him, he’d do it. Glutton for punishment, love’s bitch after all.

Figuring the night’s hunt was most likely finished, he turned around, ready to go back to Casa Summers. Spinning on his heal, he knocked right into Buffy.

“Bloody hell! Where’d you come from?” he asked angrily.

“Whatever happened to heightened vampire senses? I could have staked you and you’d have been none the wiser,” she scolded, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Was distracted is all,” he answered, starting on his way back to the house with Buffy keeping pace by his side.

“Distracted with what? Watching vampire dust in the wind?”

“I was thinking. I know it’s hard for you to imagine, but I do reflect upon things on occasion,” he stated, clearly upset at the tone she was using with him.

“Sure, in a school basement, not in the middle of a cemetery where you could get killed!” she retorted, her arms flying in exaggerated gestures.

“Fine! I’m sorry for getting you all riled up with my almost possibly of getting killed. Happy?” he asked.

“No,” she grumbled.

“Why am I not surprised?” Spike mumbled as he quickened his step.

“Why did you leave without telling anyone, you know…?” Buffy started, but was cut off by a growling Spike.

“I know the trigger’s still active, alright? My bloody conscious won’t let me forget it. But I was willing to risk it; needed to get the hell out of that house.”

He peered over at Buffy who appeared somewhat saddened. A long pause passed between them, only the sound of Buffy’s heeled boots echoed through the silence around them. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Wha?” Spike barely verbalized, coming to a complete halt.

Buffy looked up into his flabbergasted face. “I’m sorry. About what I said yesterday. Chloe died and I felt so helpless and the First was taking advantage of the fact that nobody’s meeting up to their full potential, so I kinda exploded.”

“Noticed, pet. Didn’t hold much back, did ya?”

“Trying to apologize here. What part of ‘I’m sorry’ are you having difficulty with? I said those things yesterday without really thinking about what was coming out of my mouth,” she said, motioning for them to continue on their way home.

Spike followed, head slightly bowed. “But you still meant it.”

“Yeah I did. But it doesn’t mean I was right,” she commented as the approached Revello. “It doesn’t mean you were wrong either.”

“How so?” Spike asked, giving her one of his infamous head tilts.

“It was what I wanted. The soul. But I don’t know if that’s what we need right now,” she answered, the hem of her jacket becoming suddenly very interesting.

“Guess that’s just too bad, luv. It’s not going anywhere,” he declared, realizing they had finally arrived.

“I know. That’s why it wasn’t fair for me to ask from you what you couldn’t give. And I’m sorry.”

Spike didn’t say anything; he just stood there, his glance fixed on her face as a wave of emotions coursed through him. He wasn’t sure what the apology signified. It was a rare occurrence when Buffy admitted she was wrong; especially with him never being on the receiving end of those few admissions of guilt.

“So we’re okay right?” Buffy asked, still fiddling with her jacket. When Spike didn’t respond, she started to worry. “Spike? We’re cool right?” she pressed, the hint of fear affecting her voice.

With his gaze still locked on her face, he shook his head. “No, luv. We’re not okay.”

“What? Why? I said I was sorry about yesterday.”

“’S not ‘bout what you said. ’S what you’re not sayin’ is what’s makin’ us not okay, Slayer,” he said. He knew it could blow up in his face, but maybe if he could get her to consider telling him what was wrong, she might actually do it.

“What the hell are you talking about? What is it that you think I’m not telling you?” Buffy vehemently demanded, hoping he wouldn’t notice that the fear she had managed to push all the way down inside of her was now working its way back up.

“You bloody well know what I’m talkin’ about.” It was all he said in response. He wouldn’t prod any further because it would most likely make her close up. What he hadn’t expected was to see Buffy suddenly crumple, collapsing to ground, sobbing. He instinctively sunk down next to her. “Buffy, luv, what is it?”

She didn’t reply, she just continued to give out these gut-wrenching sobs that burned right into him. Spike had never seen her so broken and vulnerable, it made her seem so human. Nervously, he reached out a hand and placed it gently on her shoulder, expecting the physical contact to somehow pull her out of her hysteria. She flinched and shook her head erratically, scooting away from him as she hugged her arms around herself. The rejection hurt a bit, but he was used to it. Why would his attempt to comfort her be any different?

Her crying suddenly ceased and she began to stammer, her vacant eyes fixed on the ground in front of her. “I thought I was fine. That nothing really happened and it had all been some wacko hallucination. But I don’t feel right. They did something to me Spike; I’m not Buffy.”

Panic took hold of Spike. “’S not a relapse, is it? ‘Cos there’s nothing wrong with you, luv. The spell Red did, it didn’t change you.”

Buffy hysterically shook her head at his words. “It’s not about me coming back wrong. It happened last night, when I met with the shadow men,” she explained, hiccups occasionally cutting her off.

“What did they do, luv?” he asked, inching his way closer to her now that she was calming down.

Her eyes slowly glided up to his face, the emotionless stare she sent him caused him to shudder uncontrollably. “They…they…” she paused, her eyes brimming once again with tears. “They put a demon in me.”

Spike looked at her confused. “I don’t follow, pet. How could they put a demon in you? You’re alive and from what I can tell,” he took a quick sniff, “still human.”

At Spike’s statement, Buffy appeared to relax a little. “I still smell human.”

“Same scent,” he reassured.

“It was demon spirit or demon essence that got sucked into me. They said it was how they made the first Slayer,” she explained, her breathing easing into a steady rhythm.

“So what you’re sayin’ is that you got a bit of demon in you? More than you had before, anyway,” Spike inquired.

“Yeah,” Buffy confirmed. She let out a noise that was between a laugh and a whimper. “Guess you we’re right after all. I am a creature of the darkness.”

Suddenly, she felt Spike grab her upper arms, twisting her to face him. “Don’t ever say that,” he firmly told her, his fierce blue eyes aching with remorse for the fact that he had once said those same words to her. “I was a bleedin’ fool. You deserve to be in the light, luv; not in the shadows with me.”

“You don’t understand. The fact that the Slayer was made with demon essence means I haven’t been human since I was chosen. How can I possibly kill them now knowing what I am?” she asked, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“I do it all the time, pet,” he mentioned, receiving a contemplative look from Buffy. “Demon might be in me, but it doesn’t define me; like it doesn’t define you. You’ve had this demon mojo in you for all this time and it never changed who you really were inside. If anything, it made you more human, luv,” Spike stated, easing his grip on her.

“How’s that?” she snorted through her sobs; not the least bit convinced by the statement.

“You save the world. Not many people can even aspire to such a thing. You made the ultimate sacrifice for mankind and you’d do it again if you had to. Buffy, you are the bravest and most selfless person I know. Demon quality super powers might have started it, but it was you, luv, who kept yourself in it. In the face of adversity, you triumph again and again. Not ‘cos of the sodding demon voodoo, or Slayer obligation but because of your heart,” Spike whispered, believing every word his inner William was spouting.

“You make me sound like some sort of saint,” Buffy chuckled sadly as Spike let go of her.

“Not a saint. Just a woman who makes mistakes but who never stops trying in spite of ‘em,” Spike retorted, offering her a warm smile.

“Spike, the demon mist should have had done something to me, but all I feel is messed up in here,” she told him, clutching at her chest.

“Buffy, maybe you just haven’t tested it out yet. But that doesn’t matter anyway. Look, this thing that they did to you, it doesn’t make you any less of a person than you were before. If anything, this could help you against the First.”

Buffy watched as he stood up and eyed the hand that he offered her. Taking it, she was lifted to her feet, her face mere inches away from his. Smiling, he bashfully took a step back and nodded. “Better get inside, luv. Tomorrow’s another day.”

Spike started toward the front entrance, expecting her to follow. When he didn’t sense her behind him, he stopped and turned back only to find her standing in the middle of her front yard. His brow knotted in confusion as she remained perfectly still. “Pet?”

“We okay, Spike?” The question was so low; he barely heard it even with his vampire hearing. She seemed so open, so exposed that whatever he said could strike her down. Giving his trademark smirk, he replied, “Of course.” And with that, Buffy moved past him and entered the house with Spike not too far behind.



Chapter 3: Never Let a Girl Watch You Sleep

The next morning had been pretty much uneventful, except for Anya chasing after Andrew with a wooden spoon, but Buffy had never really gotten the details. Instead, she let the girls have some R and R. Most of them spent it huddled in the living room, watching chic flicks, gossiping over teen magazines while they porked on junk food. Buffy knew the distraction was necessary for the Potentials and everyone else in the house. Xander and Dawn had opted for some away time, volunteering to do some errands, which gave them a chance to get out and peruse the mall. Willow had convinced Kennedy to go out for some coffee and talk, needing the privacy to deal with resolving their relationship problems. Anya, after delivering a few whacks to Andrew with the wooden utensil, had managed to rope him and a few other girls into board games. The last time Buffy had checked, Anya owned both Boardwalk and Park Place, with a hotel on each.

Buffy, on the other hand, was pacing her room, unsure of how to spend her day off. After she had said goodnight to Spike, she just went on autopilot and headed straight to sleep. She hadn’t really reflected on what was spoken between them the previous night. So now, she was in her room, alone and all she wanted was to go see him, talk to him. Walking over to her door, she stopped. “No. He’s probably asleep,” she said out loud, finding any excuse to not go down to him. She started to pace again. “But, how could he possibly sleep with the all day slumber party going on downstairs,” she rationalized, heading for the door. “No! I can’t,” she yelled at herself, getting frustrated. “God, its just Spike! Why the hell is this suddenly so complicated?” Finally, throwing the door open, Buffy stormed out, determined to not let her insecurities affect what she wanted to do.

She went downstairs, acting as though she hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes contemplating whether or not she should go down and see Spike. No one noticed her come down and slip into the basement; they were all too preoccupied with having a little fun. It was dark and she had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust to the change. Taking the steps one at a time, she stealthily made her way down without a sound. Scanning the room, she spotted the cot and found Spike, deep in soundless repose. He was bare-chested with a single sheet draped over his jean-clad legs. His chest never rose, but he would occasionally let out some sort of rumbling noise, which Buffy figured was the closest thing he had to a snore. She smiled at the idea.

The fact that she was standing there watching Spike sleep suddenly hit her and she nervously slinked back towards the steps, feeling guilty for invading his privacy. “Buffy…” She froze when she heard him, thinking he had caught her. Turning around, she saw him, still in la-la land. “Buffy…” he called out, obviously dreaming. She smiled sadly at the longing in his voice. ‘I guess I am all he dreams about,” she reflected as she made her way closer to him. It was only when she got close enough that she saw that his brow was furrowed in pain and that his eyes moved erratically beneath their lids. “Buffy, no…” he whined. “‘M sorry… Never meant…Never hurt…” His chest started to heave and his body trembled as he let out one last choked sob. “‘M sorry.”

Buffy watched, like one would watch a train wreck. She couldn’t bear seeing how Spike’s guilt had filtered into his dreams but she couldn’t bring herself to wake him, afraid she’d crossed a line by merely being there. God, all she wanted to do was comfort him, like he had done with her just last night. It was then that she realized that what Spike needed was to know how she felt. He needed to know that she forgave him. If Spike could see past the demon, why couldn’t she get over his?

Taking in a deep steadying breathe, Buffy inched toward him, kneeling next to the cot as she reached out a hand which hovered above his shoulder. “Spike,” she called to him, her voice firm but soft. Spike remained fitfully asleep, moaning as he tossed in his bed. “Spike, wake up,” she repeated, lowering her hand to touch him. He nearly flew out of the bed because of it. Buffy suddenly found herself lying down beside him with two strong arms wrapped around her waist while his face was buried in the crook of her neck. From his whimpers and moans, she knew he was still asleep, still agonizing in his own personal hell.

“Spike,” Buffy called his name out again, hoping her close proximity would stir him.

He didn’t wake. Sighing, she allowed herself to settle into him, wrapping one of her own arms around his bare torso while her other hand soothingly stroked his bleached head. His cool body pressed up against hers sent shivers down her spine and she could tell her proximity was taking its toll on him as well. He fretted more in his reverie; most likely due to the fact that her presence made the dream a little too real. She knew she had to wake him up. She wasn’t really helping him, but just furthering his torment.

“Spike, wake up,” she urged.

That scent, that of vanilla, spice and her. It was her scent and it was consuming him. He couldn’t get away from it and it tore into him. It was only when he felt her warmth as well that he slowly withdrew from unconsciousness. Inhaling deeply, the scent invaded him and he knew he wasn’t alone on his cot in the basement anymore. Buffy was there with him, holding him. He didn’t deserve it, but he was too afraid to open his eyes and not be able to pull away from her. What form of grace had brought him into her arms? He didn’t really care. It was the loss of contact that left him filled with trepidation. How could he think it was okay for him to touch her? How was he going to summon the strength to actually let go?

Gradually, he gathered enough will power to lift himself up and open his eyes so that his gaze would fall upon the woman who unwillingly laid claim to his heart. “Buffy, what are you doing here?” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

He expected anger, and some pushing on her part, but all he received was Buffy smiling up at him. The image almost made his dead heart beat again. She lay beneath him, her blonde hair slightly disheveled, out of its ponytail and the smile spread over her lips was truly genuine. God, she was beautiful. And it made his guilt all the lot worse. But before he could pull away, she lifted a hand to his face and stroked his cheek.

“I’m just returning the favour.” It was all she said, wrapping her arms back around his body and lowering his face back to her neck. That sole action said much more than mere words; she was offering more than just comfort, Spike realized. Buffy was giving him her trust, and with that, no doubt, her forgiveness. With full comprehension of what was occurring between them, the dam broke and he began to sob uncontrollably into her shoulder.


********

The day had progressed, and there they remained in each others’ embrace. When Spike had finally pulled himself together, he had been completely humiliated that Buffy had actually witnessed his break down.

“Sorry for going nancy boy on you, Slayer. Blubbered my eyes out enough,” he had said, sulking.

“Call ourselves even, one spaz attack for another,” she had joked in response.

She had been careful not to act repulsed or ashamed of him; she jus stayed there with him. When sleep refused to take her, she watched him, allowing herself the simple pleasure of gazing upon him, something she had never done in all the time they had spent together. She had never given herself the chance to; she would usually fly out of his crypt the moment she regained feeling in her legs. But now, as he slept peacefully, she scrutinized over every feature. How she had never really noticed the scar on his eyebrow before. How his jaw would clench occasionally and how his mouth would twitch. She lightly traced her fingertips over his cheekbones, marveling at how they could probably cut glass. She even allowed herself to inhale his scent, tobacco, soap and something that was all his own. She was surprised that she found it comforting. That being here, in his arms, pressed against his bare chest would make her feel the safest she’d had in months.

Buffy’s inspection was short-lived when Spike jolted awake. His heavy eyes searched the basement; he needed reassurance that he hadn’t dreamt it, that she was really there with him. Relaxing, he rolled onto his side so that he could look at Buffy directly, his eyes a mosaic of emotions. “Hey,” Buffy said.

“Hey, luv,” he responded, his voice low, as though he subconsciously tried not to do anything that might scare her away.

“Good sleep?” she asked.

“Not bad,” he said, but his azure gaze told her differently. He never looked more content. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know. They’re still pretty noisy upstairs, so I’m guessing it’s probably coming close to dinner time.” Spike’s stomach gurgle confirmed her estimate.

Buffy giggled at the sound. “Guess you’re right, pet. Better get myself my sanguine supper,” Spike commented, but he didn’t move.

“Spike, for you to get blood, it would require moving. As in getting up from bed,” Buffy chortled, slowly sitting up.

“I don’t want to. Scared I’ll never get this again,” he said, wrapping his arm around Buffy’s stomach.

“I don’t know what this is, or what it means. But I know I can trust you because I wouldn’t be here with you otherwise.”

Spike released his hold on her and sat up, his eyes focused on hers. She knew that she hadn’t said the words out loud yet, that she had simply shown him through her actions. But now, that they had been vocalized, that they could never be taken back, did he allow himself to actually believe he was forgiven. It no longer made him feel unworthy, to be in her company; if anything, he felt, for once in his unlife, loved. Even if he was being delusional, he felt it.

Nodding, he scooted off the cot, throwing on a black t-shirt and lacing up his boots. Buffy just sat and watched him, until he was standing before her, waiting for her to get up as well. They moved soundlessly to the stairs and up to the awaiting mob, leaving behind them their sanctuary and one brief moment of closeness.


********

The basement door opened upon the utter chaos that was the Summer’s main floor, the kitchen being the focal point of disarray. Somehow Buffy had found herself pulled away from Spike’s grasp and into the mayhem; Molly had almost burned the house down trying to make some sort of meat sludge, Vi had broken three plates in her attempts to wash dishes and Amanda had spilled a jug of orange juice all over the counter. Each we’re desperately cleaning up their messes, only to bump into other Potentials which lead to further demolishment of her kitchen. The clean up soon turned to yelling and frustration where you couldn’t even hear yourself think from all the noise. ‘That’s it!’ Buffy thought. “Everybody Shut UP!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Well, it worked. All eyes were on her, bodies frozen in their actions. They all looked at her in fear, and she knew they we’re expecting ‘MeanBuffy’ to rip right through all of them like she had the other night. She didn’t; keeping her composure, she calmly started to give orders. “Molly, Vi, and Amanda stay and clean up your messes. Everyone else, get out of the kitchen and I’ll order pizza. The few grumbles were muted by the loud cheering of at least twenty teenage girls. Buffy sighed when everyone did as they were told.

She spotted Spike making his way out toward the back door but she didn’t stop him. He probably needed some space and a smoke. Hell, at that moment, she wouldn’t have said no to a cancer stick. Shaking her head she made her way to the phone and ordered eight party size pizzas, hoping it was enough to sate all the hungry girls in her home.

Hanging up the phone, she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall to watch the girls. “We so need a maid,” Molly complained, scarping the bottom of the pot she had been using. “Or at least a cook.”

“We could always make Andrew a slave boy. He’s a hostage so he’s got no rights,” Amanda suggested.

“Knowing him, his only culinary expertise will be that featured on Star Trek,” Vi commented, wiping down a glass.

“I thought he was a Star Wars geek?” Amanda rebutted, only to receive an apathetic shrug from Vi.

“We’re not making Andrew our maid,” Buffy stated with a smile. “So what you girls do all day?” she asked.

“Nuffin’ much. Watched the telly mostly,” Molly answered, still working at her pot.

“Yeah, we just hung out,” Amanda added. “But…uhh… I wouldn’t go into the living room if I were you.”

Buffy shook her head and pushed off the wall, not heeding Amanda’s warnings, she ventured into the other room. She really should have stayed in the basement. Calling it a mess would have been a compliment; it was as though she had stepped through a portal and where her living room had once stood there was now the city dump. Rest and relaxation day this was not. Okay, General Buffy resurfaces once more.

“Okay,” she called out to every girl in the house. “There will be no food if the house stays this way. Everybody find a spot and clean it up. I want to see floor people!”

More groaning, but the threat of no food had worked; the girls scurried to clean the mess they had made. Within half an hour, the floor was rid of every piece of garbage, all sleeping bags had been rolled up and the house almost sparkled. Buffy patted herself on the shoulder on a job well done. Letting the girls go with the promise of not making any messes, Buffy ventured upstairs to change since somehow brown goop had splattered on her shirt during the anarchy. She found Andrew helping Anya bring down laundry; she thanked the gods that they had only brought it down now, when she wasn’t in Spike’s bed wrapped in his arms. She grinned at the memory and longed to be back on his cot with him. Everything seemed so simple.

Yanking off her top, she flung it onto her chair, throwing on a simple black t-shirt instead. After inspecting her jeans for any traces of missile food, she made her way back down, straight to the back porch. She found him, pacing the back yard, hair still a bunch of disheveled curls and body tense sans black leather duster. The moon illuminated his pale features as the ember of his cigarette danced back and forth against the backdrop of night. “Spike, you’re making me dizzy,” she said, announcing her presence to him.

He turned his head to look at her but continued treading back and forth, letting out short puffs of smoke after every inhale. “What happened today?” he asked, his voice brimming with insecurity.

“What do you mean ‘what happened today’?” she asked, praying inwardly that Spike wasn’t regretting what they had shared in the basement.

“Downstairs, luv? With me makin’ an ass of myself, openin’ up to you,” he explained, annoyed that she was playing dumb. He lowered his voice suddenly. “And with you being there, in my arms. Being with me. What was that, Buffy?”

“I don’t know. What makes you think I’ve got any clue as to what’s going on?” she exasperated, throwing her arms up in frustration.

“Well I sodding well don’t! One minute you hate me, then you believe in me and then I wake up to find you in my bed of all places, telling me that you trust me!” he yelled, luckily not drawing any attention from those inside. “Can’t you see why I’m being such a headcase ‘bout it? It doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

Buffy sighed and plopped herself down on the back steps. “I wish I had answers for you but I don’t.”

“So what? We just strike it up to a bit of cold comfort? A glitch? Is that all that was?” he asked, becoming frantic.

“You know it wasn’t,” Buffy said, staring up into his distraught eyes. “Whatever it was, whatever it meant, all I know was that it didn’t feel wrong. I didn’t feel wrong.”

Why did he have to look at her like that? Had she really messed with him that badly? Had she crushed him so painfully that his eyes fill with so much joy at the mere thought that she didn’t find him repulsive? Buffy trembled at the thought, pleading with the fates that she’d never return to what she had become last year.

She noticed Spike had stopped pacing and had sat himself next to her, all too reminiscent of a previous night where he had comforted her. “Where’d we go from here, pet?” he inquired.

Buffy shrugged in response. “We work, we fight and we try not to hurt each other. Hopefully time will tell.”

“Okay,” Spike said, obviously disappointed.

“And if there are spontaneous basement sleepovers, so be it,” she added, giving him a warm smile, which was received with a big goofy grin.



Chapter 4: Letting Them In

Buffy, with Spike only a few paces behind her, stepped out into the crowded hallway, welcomed by countless girls who were dispersed throughout the house enjoying their pizza dinner. She spotted Xander and Dawn portioning the last of the slices out to the unfortunate few that had not gotten any yet. “Mental note: Pay Xander back,’ Buffy reflected as she made her way over to them just as the last slice was handed out.

“Hey guys. Thanks for covering pizza duty,” she said, taking a few empty boxes from Dawn and heading back to the kitchen.

“No problem. But, if I were you I’d start feeding these girls more often or at least get them muzzles. I haven’t seen a mob that ravenous since my Hyena days,” Xander chuckled, following her with a similar stack of cardboard.

“That bad, huh?” Buffy asked.

“I’m surprised I still have all ten fingers,” Xander joked as he placed the boxes by the back door with Buffy.

Suddenly, all that could be heard was a loud squeal and the sight of a blurred figure zoom past them to the kitchen counter. Throwing open the lid, Dawn nearly dove into the pizza box. “I’m starved!” she announced, wolfing down a full slice in mere seconds.

Xander turned to Buffy and gave her an apologetic look. “We saved a pizza. Want a piece of whatever Dawn hasn’t managed to consume in the past thirty seconds?” he asked.

“That’d be great, Xander,” Buffy replied, quickly getting disgusted by the sight of her sister’s binge fest. “Hey Dawn, ever hear of mastication? It means chew,” she scolded, receiving an annoyed look from Dawn.

“So you guys have fun today?” Buffy asked as she bit into the pepperoni slice that Xander handed her.

“Totally,” Dawn enthusiastically announced. “Impending doom and possible world annihilation really brings out your inner shop-a-holic.”

“Plus, getting out of the house, extra perk,” Xander added.

“So what’d you do, Buffy?” Dawn asked, polishing off her third slice.

It was only at that moment that Dawn’s question made her realize she hadn’t seen or heard Spike since they had come back inside. Glancing around, she spotted him leaning against the archway leading from the kitchen to the hallway, quiet eyes simply observing those who usually paid him no heed. Their eyes met, and where she would normally turn away from his penetrating gaze; she held steady her hazel eyes to his blue. “Took a nap,” she answered Dawn’s question, smiling in Spike’s direction.

Neither Dawn nor Xander paid any attention to the exchange, too wrapped up in their pizza eating. But when Xander spoke again, Buffy broke away from Spike’s cerulean gaze. “How could you sleep with super slumber party going on?” he asked, biting into his second slice.

Glancing back at the vampire, still with a smile on her face, she responded. “I found a way.” Not wishing to seem obvious, she changed the subject. “So are Willow and Kennedy back yet?” And almost as though they were waiting for those words to be spoken aloud, the two women walked through the front door.

“Buffy?” Willow called out.

“In the kitchen, Will,” she responded.

They walked into the room hand in hand, never looking as happy as they did at that moment. ‘I guess all’s forgiven,’ Buffy figured.

“Hey Willow. Hi, Kennedy. Pizza?” Buffy asked, gesturing to the nearly empty box on the counter.

“No thanks. We already ate,” Willow replied, looking over at Kennedy who shook her head, also not wanting to eat.

Buffy didn’t say much after that. Everyone broke out into conversation about how they spent their day, with Xander and Dawn finishing off the last few greasy slices. Willow and Kennedy had seen some sort of indie film before they had dinner at some swanky French restaurant. Dawn had managed to drag a begrudging Xander around the mall, taking full advantage of that fact that her shoplifting induced banishment was now lifted. Needless to say, by the end of the day poor Xander had had his fill of being Dawn’s personal shopping bag mule. As those she loved reminisced about their day, one without any appearances by the First or Bringer ambushes, all she could dwell on was how she was lying to all of them.

She hadn’t told them about what had happened to her in that dimension and how she had, thanks to those misogynistic shadow men, become extra demony. She’d only told Spike, and that was only after he forced it out of her. It wouldn’t be good if it somehow came out that she had confided in Spike before she had ever considered telling anyone else. She realized that she needed to tell them; that she had to tell them tonight. She needed to tell them before she completely destroyed the fragile balance she had finally managed to restore since last year.

Buffy peeked over at Spike again. She wasn’t surprised to find him staring at her, a perplexed look etched across his face. She knew he was trying to read her; he was usually good at it. Giving him a reassuring smile, Buffy took in a deep calming breath and addressed her unsuspecting friends.

“Guys,” she said, cutting into Dawn’s ode to strappy sandals.

“Yeah, Buff?” Xander replied.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice a little unsteady.

“So spill,” Dawn retorted, slightly annoyed she’d been interrupted.

“Not now. When the girls are asleep, I want you all to meet me back here,” she instructed.

“Buffy, what is this all about?” Willow asked, obviously concerned.

“There’s something you should know about what happened to me when I was with the shadow men. But I can’t get into it now,” she stated, leaving them to dwell on the possible reasons for holding a secret meeting as she made her way into the living room.

“C’mon, let’s get them to bed. Early morning training tomorrow,” Buffy called back, making up an excuse to make a houseful of girls turn in before ten o’clock.

By nine o’clock Buffy had managed somehow to get a large group of hyperactive adolescent girls to get to bed, knowing most of them wouldn’t be getting to sleep until hours later. Walking into the kitchen, she could see that everyone had been waiting for her as though they had never left and anticipating the worst. Without a word, she made her way to sit on one of the kitchen stools and waited for a barrage of questions to fly her way. When all she received was mind numbing silence, she realized that they were waiting for her to start.

“When I went through the portal, I met with the men who had made the First Slayer. They explained to me how they had given her power and then did the exact same thing to me.”

Willow was the first to speak up. “Buffy, what do you mean they did the same thing to you?”

The calm and collected demeanor she had been trying so hard to keep up crumbled with a single tear trickling down her cheek. “They made the First Slayer by putting a ‘demon spirit’ in her,” she explained, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“And they did it to you too, didn’t they?” Xander confirmed, his heart sinking at the thought.

Buffy only nodded in response, unsure if she could vocalize a reply.

“Do you feel any different?” Dawn asked gently, placing a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder.

Buffy shook her head. “No, not really. Just feeling a little violated I guess.”

Dawn pulled Buffy into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry Buffy. I’ll do anything you want to help you get through this, ‘kay?” she sniffled.

“Thanks Dawnie,” Buffy whispered back, squeezing her sister one last time before letting go of her.

“Buffy, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Willow asked, somewhat afraid of what could possibly be manifesting itself inside her best friend.

“I guess I had to deal with it first. I was total denial girl for a while,” she responded, twisting her hands in her lap nervously.

It was then that she noticed that Spike was, for a usually hyperactive and impatient vampire, being completely stoic. He was still in the same spot, leaning against the doorframe, but this time with his trademark leather, wordlessly watching her as she spilled her guts to her friends and sister.

“That was,” she continued, “until Spike pulled the confession out of me.” She said the words out loud and immediately glanced around, scrutinizing everyone’s reaction. Seeing the concerned and slightly bewildered looks she was receiving, Buffy persisted in her explanation. “So, I’m telling you now. This thing they did to me is suppose to help us, but I really don’t know how. I’m sorry I kept this from you guys,” she finished, her voice cracking ever so often with an escaping sob.

“I knew something was up. I just didn’t wanna push it,” Dawn told her, hoping in some way it would be comforting.

“So,” Xander chimed in, trying to drain out some of the tension that had accumulated in the room. “We research? Figure out what exactly they possessed you with and how it’s suppose to help us against the First?”

Buffy smile at his words; her friends weren’t mad at her. She was relieved and allowed herself to exhale the breath she had been holding ever since she had entered the kitchen. “I guess that would be the thing to do, right? Get into Giles’ mode?” Buffy responded lightly.

“Sure. I’ll hit the net and Xander’ll get those donuts he promised,” Willow reassured, while Kennedy, who had remained uncharacteristically silent, graced her with a kind smile.

“Okay, but can we leave it until tomorrow? Teary eyed confessions take a lot out of a Slayer. We can start after I get back from work,” she proposed, receiving nods of agreement.

“Okay, tomorrow I’ll be here with armful of crullers, but for now, I wish you all goodnight. I definitely need to get some good quality time with my neglected bachelor pad,” Xander said, giving Buffy a reassuring hug before heading out the back door.

“Guess we better get off to bed too. Goodnight,” Willow said, giving Buffy a hug before she took her girlfriend’s hand and headed to their room.

“Love you, Buffy,” Dawn said, giving her sister a quick peck on the cheek. As she passed by Spike in the kitchen’s doorway she gave him a sappy grin, telling him that she was grateful.

And then, like so many times before, it was just the two of them. “Night, pet,” was all he said as he turned toward the basement door, not wishing to keep her from the rest she had said she needed.

“Spike,” she called out to his leather clad back.

“Yeah, luv?” he answered, glancing back at her over his shoulder. She walked over to him, took his hand in hers and pulled him along with her, away from the basement and up the stairs.

Spike couldn’t make one coherent thought or verbalize one single word. He was dumbfounded and extremely confused; he hadn’t had the slightest idea as to where she was taking him or why. Finding himself set on autopilot, he simply followed Buffy in a haze.

They abruptly stopped in front of her bedroom door. Spike wanted to scream when she opened the door and guided him in, but he was frozen in a mix of shock, fear and complete happiness. Finally managing to get his vocal chords to work, Spike began to sputter. “Luv…what…why?”

“I don’t really like it in the basement. It’s too cold and the cot hurts my back,” Buffy explained not really acknowledging his incoherent question.

Leaving him to stand in the middle of her room, Buffy made her way over to her dresser, pulled out her Yummy Sushi pajamas and walked directly passed Spike to go to the washroom to change. All of this was done in what seemed comfortable silence as though she believed it was the most natural thing to have Spike in her bedroom. Spike on the other hand was absolutely bewildered as he stood there alone in the room that was the setting of so many of his dreams.

Seconds later, Buffy returned all pj sporting and scrubbed up for bed. She eyed Spike wearily. “You gonna sleep in your duster?” she asked, nonchalant.

“Buffy, what the hell is going on?” Spike demanded to know.

Sighing, Buffy dropped her casual façade and plopped down on her bed, shoulders slumped and head slightly bowed. “I just want you here, with me, okay?”

Spike stared at her as though she were growing horns. “So what you’re tellin’ me is that you want ME,” Spike thumped his chest, “to sleep with YOU,” he pointed to her, “in your…” he gulped, causing his Adam’s apple to bob, “your bed?” he managed to say almost letting out a very unmanly squeak.

“Yeah. I do,” she said, smiling at his nervousness. “But sleeping as in actual sleeping, you know, with the clothes and…the clothes.”

It was Spike’s turn to smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, shrugging off his duster.

Buffy quirked an eyebrow, giving him a disbelieving look.

“What? I wouldn’t,” he reiterated, kicking off his boots.

“So you don’t expect this to get all with the groiny?” Buffy asked a little surprised.

Sitting himself down beside her, though careful not to touch her, Spike fixed his eyes to the floor. “If it means going back to the way things were last year, luv, yeah, I’d rather steer clear of the good ole rough and tumble, if that’s alright with you.”

In silence, Buffy took his hand for the second time that night and held it for a brief moment; to tell him that she felt the same way he did. Glancing up, Spike could see her pulling him up to the head of the bed, but it all seemed so surreal. What he wouldn’t have given to have been in her bed and in her arms all of last year? To be wanted by her not just physically. If his heart could beat no doubt it would have exploded by now. But as much as the elated feeling of being wanted was making him unbelievably happy, all the soul did was remind him how he didn’t deserve any of it. It made him ache just knowing he might actually get what he always wanted but couldn’t bring himself to actually take it. He was beginning to tremble like a ponce and at any moment could possibly break down sobbing at the unfairness of fate. With a steadying, yet unnecessary breath, Spike slipped beneath her comforter and wrapped his arms around her waist so that her head rested lightly on his chest.

“Spike?” she whispered.

“Yeah, pet?” he rumbled, finally managing to calm himself.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, luv.”


********

Sleep didn’t take either of them. He sure as hell tried, but having her so close and so willingly trusting him was making it impossible to even stay still. Not to mention that having her body sprawled over his was causing blood to rush in directions that would draw some unwanted attention. Even with the soul and its accompanying guilt, his body still reacted to her like it always did. Making sure that specific part of his anatomy never came into close proximity to her, Spike shifted slightly, desperately trying to alleviate his discomfort.

Buffy, though she tried, couldn’t sleep either. She was feeling something strange. Not bad strange, but more like different strange. Being in Spike’s arms should feel wrong and totally inappropriate after everything Buffy had done to him and what he had done to her because of it. Yet that wasn’t how she felt at the moment. If anything being with him seemed so right. Since she came back from the grave, Buffy hadn’t felt as at peace as she did with him right then. She didn’t understand it. Was she finally making peace with not only what happened with Spike, but with her life in general? Was she finally allowing herself to see the love he always claimed to have for her? Was she finally letting him in? And if so, could she actually find a way to have a healthy relationship with Spike?

Mewling, Buffy rolled out of his embrace and peered up at his misleadingly sleeping face. His brow was furrowed as though he was thinking but his eyelids were gently shut. Dreaming, maybe? She kept her eyes on him and reflected on what had occurred between them since she had been pulled out of the portal not two nights ago. ‘He does love me,’ she internally admitted. ‘Maybe even truly before the soul.’ Buffy shook her head not wanting to even consider that possibility because if she did, then having used him like she had seemed all the worse. Acknowledging Spike’s love for her was one thing, but being able to reciprocate those feelings was another. She was going to need some time, but she wasn’t sure with the lingering apocalypse, if she could afford it.

Rolling back into his arms, Buffy snuggled into his chest and allowed herself to fall asleep. Spike, who was still feigning sleep, opened an eye to peer down and wonder why Buffy was so restless.

Buffy was the first to wake up to the sound to the sound of girls giggling, chattering and even yelling outside her bedroom door. Groaning, she glanced over to look at her alarm clock. 7:00 a.m. She let out an annoyed moan only to hear a low chuckle reverberate the air next to her.

“They could at least be a little considerate for those of us still trying to get a few more winks,” Buffy stated, rubbing her face into Spike’s chest.

“Wasn’t it you who ordered early morning training, luv?” Spike pointed out.

“Whose side are you on?” Buffy mumbled into his black shirt. “If I let them wake me up, I’ve got to get up out of this bed.”

“Right. You want me to kill them or maybe just sew their mouths shut? Make it real quiet for ya. Could stay in bed all day,” Spike joked, in total seriousness.

“With you of course,” Buffy said.

“Of course, pet.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I gotta get up anyway. Ugghh, I hate Mondays,” she stated as she tumbled out of bed without the slightest indication of Slayer grace.

Spike remained perfectly still and watched as Buffy stretched, yawned and stomped her way to the bathroom. He could hear her arguing with one of the wannabe slayers, declaring that her job required showering, and that since that said job paid for their accommodations, she was allotted line butting privileges. Spike chuckled when he heard the recalcitrant girl begrudgingly give up her spot at the head of the line.

It suddenly hit him then. He was lying in the Slayer’s bed after a night of just sleeping, comfortably observing her morning routine as though he had been doing it for centuries. It irked him how simple everything felt at that moment. Unfortunately, he knew it was anything but. Though Buffy was moving on, no doubt her demon essence possession was going to be on the top of the Scoobies’ to do list. They hadn’t really talked about the confession she had made to her friends the night before. He was surprised when she had told them what had happened without him having to push the issue, and he was thrown even more when she admitted that he was the first person she had told. He knew it was significant; some sort of indication that things were progressing with them. Spike knew she wasn’t going to go running to tell the Scoobies about their little sleepover, but she had to know it couldn’t continue. Not without someone finding out.

It was fine by him though. Well, sort of. He didn’t want to be her dirty little secret. Had enough deception last year alone to last two lifetimes. Spike decided he would wait. He had enough faith in Buffy that she wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes. He had to trust her, right? She was giving him that much, so shouldn’t he? He chuckled. The whelp’s gonna have a coronary when he finds out. Then again maybe he should push the issue. No. He would wait. He would trust Buffy’s judgment and simply wait.

“Hey Buffy, just wondering if I could borrow your…”

Spike’s head shot up to see someone standing at the doorway, eyes wide in shock.

“Spike?”

Chapter Five:The Message

“Hey lil’ Bit.”

Dawn scrambled to shut the door behind her, pressing her back against it with her eyes still wide in disbelief. “Spike, what the hell are you doing in Buffy’s room?”

Spike sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, ready to boot if need be. “I…uhhh…was just…waiting for Big Sis. Uhh…you know, to talk shop,” he lied badly, irritated at how he had once been really gifted in the art of deception. Stupid soul.

“Talk to Buffy? At 7:15 in the morning and in her bed?” Dawn plainly doubted, giving him the patented brassed-off Summer’s look.

“Yeah,” Spike replied, wishing she would just accept his piss-poor excuse of an explanation.

“You know what Spike? You wanna lie to me, that’s fine. I guess I was stupid to think that things would ever go back to the way they were before,” Dawn venomously spouted, turning her back to him abruptly to leave.

“Nibblet, wait!” Spike called out, which made Dawn stop in her tracks. “I did stay here last night.”

She spun around at his words, her face in complete confusion at what he was admitting. Naturally, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. “You and Buffy are doing the nasty again, aren’t you?” she asked, clearly disappointed in both him and her presently absent sister.

“No, Bit. I swear. It was just sleeping.”

“So you and Buffy just spent the entire night, alone and in her bed innocently sleeping?” Dawn reiterated, still not fully convinced

“Yeah, we did,” a voice called from behind her, making her jump in surprise.

Dawn turned to see a freshly showered and robe donning Buffy. Dawn must have been so thrown by Spike’s admission that she hadn’t noticed her sister open the door and sneak right up to her. “Buffy, what’s going on?”

Walking past Dawn and into her room, Buffy gave the vamp the same reassuring smile she’d been giving him the past few days. “Spike’s here because I didn’t want him sleeping in the basement.”

Dawn stared at Spike, then glanced at Buffy and then turned back again to the peculiarly quiet vampire. As she inspected their appearances, looking for validation to Buffy’s claim, Dawn noticed that the two of them simply remained in awkward silence, keeping their gazes away from her scrutiny. Being a teenager herself, Dawn recognized the blushing we’ve-so-been-caught looks both her sister and Spike were wearing. She wasn’t sure whether to roll her eyes at them or to let go one of her trademark squeals. “So, are you guys like back together?”

“No.”

“Maybe.”

Their responses came out simultaneously; surprisingly it had been Buffy who had voiced the ‘maybe’, not Spike.

The room became suddenly very quiet as the vampire stared up at Buffy, in pure amazement.

Seeing as how Spike appeared to have been suddenly struck with an unexpected fit of catatonia, Buffy took it upon herself to explain things to her sister. “We don’t know Dawn. It’s…”

Yet, before she could get out all the details, Dawn cut her off. “Complicated,” she finished, having heard that phrase a billion times in the past year alone. “But there’s a chance right?”

Buffy nodded as Spike still remained mute.

A loud “Eeeee” permeated through the silence and Buffy found herself almost tackled to the ground by her little sister. “This is sooo cool,” she giggled. Then out of nowhere, Dawn broke from her gleeful merriment to kick her sister in the shin.

“Owww. Hey!” Buffy yelped.

“It’s about time you two legitimately hook up! There was enough angst coming from the two of you this past year to suffocate a roomful of Potentials,” she joked, pulling away from her sister and heading toward Spike, who was still staring into space. Dawn snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Spike!”

Awakening from his stupor, Spike stared up at Dawn as though he had forgotten she had been there all along. Sitting down next to him, Dawn took his hand and squeezed it. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” she whispered. “But do anything to her and I’ll make good on my waking up on fire promise.”

Spike simply nodded at her half-serious threat.

“Ummm…If we’re done here and if you guys don’t mind, I kinda need to get ready for work,” Buffy mentioned quietly.

“Sure thing, pet. We’ll just get out of your hair. Let’s go Nibblet,” Spike said, quickly pulling on his boots and duster.

Dawn followed him out of the room, walking through the hallway and down the stairs in silence. Spike had noted that Buffy hadn’t told Dawn to keep what she had seen to herself. Hell, she hadn’t even tried to cover it up.

Once in the kitchen and opening the fridge, Spike poured himself a cup of blood and popped it into the microwave. Maybe he wasn’t going to have to wait too long for her to tell everyone about them. He smiled. There was now a ‘them’.




Ten minutes later, Buffy walked into the kitchen as primped, polished and styled as ever, in a professional quasi guidance councilor sort of way. She poured herself a cup of coffee and headed out to the backyard where the girls had started their training session. Quickly saying a few hellos and giving Kennedy a couple of key instructions, she went back inside, calling out to Dawn to hurry her butt up before Xander arrived to pick them up. Too wrapped up in the pre-work routine, an unexpected voice caught her by surprise.

“You didn’t have anything to eat, pet,” Spike said, stationed at his spot, leaning against the door frame.

“God Spike! You scared me. You know, Angel used to lurk,” she said, giggling.

“I do not lurk! And what is it with you Summer’s women comparing me to Tall, Dark and Forehead?”

Buffy giggled some more. “I can get breakfast at school. No need to worry about me,” she said walking toward the front door, giving him a peck on the cheek as she passed him by. She could have sworn she saw him blush, even if it only lasted for a millisecond.

“I’ll see you after work,” the Slayer said as her farewell.

Spike smiled, watching as Buffy met up with Dawn at the front door and stepped out at the sound of Xander’s horn.

“I am no better than the poofter,” Spike declared, thankful that no one was around to hear him.


********


The day had been uneventful. Buffy had had barely any students come in to see her and the ones that did had to be directed to other school personnel who were better suited to help them with their predicaments. It seemed as though students at Sunnydale High had little need of guidance that day. A little nagging voice at the back of Buffy’s mind told her it was most likely the calm before the storm but she pushed it away. Man, was she ever bored. Finally, to Buffy’s content, when the last bell of the day had rung she had nearly knocked over three students as she dashed out of the office.

Opening the front door, Buffy was strangely pleased to find the house in its usual busy chaos. The girls were training in smaller groups, alternating between Kennedy and Anya, giving the former better one-on-one instructions and allowing the latter time to inform them on basic demonology. Just like Buffy had instructed.

She spotted Willow and Xander at the dining room table, decked with laptop, books and donuts. “You guys started without me? Not that I’m really complaining; you know, research not really being my forte and all.”

“Hey Buffy! I got home from classes early today,” Willow explained, never taking her eyes off the computer screen.

Xander smiled. “Did you know being the boss means you can take the afternoon off? Who knew?”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” Buffy said, taking a seat next to Willow. “Any luck?”

“A whole lotta nada,” Xander answered, slamming his book shut. “It’s hard to find anything on the First cuz, you know, predates the whole written word thing.”

“Willow?”

“Sorry Buffy. I’ve checked out my usual hunting grounds and nothing on the First or even on the creation of the Slayer.”

“Great,” Buffy said, deflated.

“Hey, c’mon Buffster. We’re not giving up just yet,” Xander reassured.

“Yeah. We’ve just skimmed the surface,” Willow added.

“Alright. But I guess I’ll check on the girls,” she said, making her way upstairs.

After changing into one of her comfy black track suits, Buffy peeked into Dawn’s room to find her sister buried in homework.

“Hey Dawnie. How was school?”

Dawn pounded her biology textbook with her fist and glanced up at her sister. “Just peachy. Stupid Krebs Cycle.”

“Science blues?” Buffy asked upon seeing the frustration marring her sister’s brow.

“Majorly,” Dawn affirmed, but quickly dropped her school woes to focus on more pressing matters. “So, you see Spike yet? Being away from him all day must have been tough,” she teased.

“No, not yet. I just got in,” Buffy admonished.

“Funny, I would have figured you’d have made a b-line for the basement the moment you got home,” Dawn commented.

“He’s probably sleeping anyway. You know, daytime equals vamp nap time,” Buffy said.

“But he’s not asleep,” Dawn added.

“Oh? And how would you know that?” Buffy asked, crossing her arms.

“Can’t you hear it?” Dawn answered, gesturing to her open bed room window that overlooked the backyard.

Perking her ears to any possible noise, Buffy could hear commands coming from outside. Well, that wasn’t anything new. It was only when she heard a familiar baritone voice that her eyes grew wide with shock. “What the…? That dope’s gonna get himself killed!” Buffy shouted as she bolted out of Dawn’s room. What was Spike thinking, being outside in the daylight? She sprinted into the kitchen, threw the back door open and nearly slammed into the moronic risk taking vampire.

Ignoring Buffy’s not so elegant entrance, Spike called out another order as he paced the shaded back porch. “Punch block combo!”

Buffy watched as the girls did the maneuver. They appeared to be improving. She looked over at Kennedy who was surprisingly writing down notes. Then she heard Spike again. “Alright ducks! Much better this time ‘round! Molly, good follow through, but block higher! Amy, don’t drop your shoulder! Kristen, feet wider apart! Okay now, one more time! Punch block combo!”

Buffy couldn’t believe her eyes. Here was Spike, Slayer of Slayers, actually training girls who might never even be called. She knew that he knew she was there, but he didn’t take his eyes off the group as they performed the same maneuver. Kennedy made her way over to Spike and whispered something to him which made him nod in agreement. When the girls completed the combo, they stood there in attentive stances, awaiting his evaluation, and hopeful for his approval. Buffy still couldn’t believe this was actually happening. How did he manage to get them to focus like that? What had he done that her rousing speeches hadn’t? At that point she didn’t really care since it was working.

Turning his back to the group, Spike gave Buffy a dazzling yet humble smile that only she was permitted to see, as to not diminish his newly established air of authority. “What do you think, luv?”

Buffy grinned. “I think that if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll push you out into the sun!”

“‘m alright. Once afternoon hits, backyard’s pretty shady,” Spike reasoned. “But putting aside my presently non-dusty nature, care to share what you think?”

Sobering a little, Buffy walked length of the back porch with Spike at her side, both inspecting the girls. In a clear voice, one above normal volume to ensure that all the Potentials heard her she announced, “Well done! They seem to be improving. Need more work though. Nowhere near where I want them to be.” Turning back to Spike, Buffy asked him in a whisper, “How long have you guys been at it?”

“At least three hours with this group. ‘bout three hours with the other group before the switch over,” Spike answered back quietly.

“They’re pretty synchronized and that’s great, but you know what real fighting is like. A demon’s not just gonna stand there the whole time while you try to pummel him. They’re gonna need more experience. So tomorrow I wanna start sparing sessions with them; you, me and maybe Kennedy. Knocking them on their asses just might be what they need,” Buffy said, in deep thought. “Let them break until nightfall, and then we’ll take the more ready few for patrol.”

“So what, take the kiddies to the good ole cemetery?” Spike inquired.

“For tonight. And I want to get them started on proper weapons training. We’ll have to fit that somewhere in the training schedule,” she replied, allowing herself to rightfully fall into her role as leader.

“Sure thing, Slayer,” Spike said as he turned towards the still waiting group of girls. “Okay, break time kids! Meet back here at dusk! Some of you lucky few‘ll be joinin’ us for patrol tonight!” And with that, the girls relaxed and trudged silently into the house.

When the last girl had ventured through the back door, Kennedy approached the now more casual vampire and Slayer. “Here are the notes, and I wrote down a few suggestions along with them. So if I’m done here, I’d like to go see Willow,” the senior Potential said as she handed Spike the notepad.

Spike simply nodded, indicating she had his approval to go. Reading through the notepad, Spike didn’t see the once again astonished look on Buffy’s face. “Spike, how the hell did you get Kennedy to play secretary?” she asked.

“Was kinda easy, actually. Just pointed out a few things, is all,” he stated, still flipping through the papers.

“And those few things would be?”

“Well,” Spike began, flapping the notepad shut. “I simply told the bint that she was gettin’ a lil’ too big for her britches.”

“Oh God, Spike, you didn’t get into the whole death wish thing, did you?” Buffy asked, jumping to conclusions.

“No, but I did say that her whole cocksure mini-slayer routine was gonna do her in. And I should know; killed two of ‘em didn’t I? Told her as much. Also pointed out to her that she wasn’t even technically chosen yet. Kept her gob shut since,” he explained, giving Buffy a smirk that was reminiscent of the old Spike.

“So what started all of this?” she asked.

“Wasn’t doin’ much else, pet. Couldn’t sleep so I figured I could at least help out,” he replied, eyes trailing off to look at the expanse of the backyard.

“You do a lot more than you realize,” she stated.

“If you say so, but this keeps me busy,” he countered, hoping she wasn’t going to tell him to back off.

“We better plan out the patrol. I want every girl coming with us to get equal attention and practice,” she added, heading toward the door.

“Buffy?” Spike said, praying he wasn’t making a mistake by saying what he was about to say.

“Yeah?” Catching a glimpse of him, Buffy turned back around to face the vampire. In the short amount of time she had looked away, Spike appeared to have suddenly transformed into someone she rarely saw. The bad-ass-second-in-command persona had crumbled away, leaving behind a very confused and vulnerable man standing before her.

“Spike, what is it?”

“This morning, luv. What you said to Nibblet. Did you mean it?” he asked, the hope so clearly visible in his ice blue eyes.

“About us being together?” Spike nodded at her question. Buffy sighed. “When I said there was a chance…” Buffy reflected on her response to Dawn’s earlier question.

“’S alright if you didn’t mean it. Spendin’ the night together ‘probly jumbled your senses, ya know? Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ straight and at the time ya thought it was the right thing, but it’s okay if you changed your mind. Me bein’ there might have made you wanna say yes, so I would understand if you really didn’t. And…” Spike rambled, only to be cut short by Buffy.

“I meant it, Spike.”

“So what now, luv?” he asked.

Buffy made her way over to him, taking his hand in hers. She really didn’t know what she was doing, stopping herself from thinking and allowing heart guide her for once. Locking her gaze with his, she slowly leaned in until their lips were nearly touching. Buffy slowly lifted her free hand and with a feathery touch, outlined the contours of his cheek, eventually cupping it tenderly in her palm.

“You sure this is what you want, Buffy?” Spike’s voice croaked with fear and need, feeling as though he would go insane if she didn’t bridge the gap.

It was then that she pressed her lips against his. It was a gentle and sweet caress, unlike the harsh, selfish embraces they had shared in the past. At first Spike was still a little stunned by her unexpected move, but quickly drew into her kiss. It had been so long since he had tasted her but he had never forgotten how sweet she actually was and how warm she felt in his arms. More than the fighting, more than the shagging, this was what he missed the most. Kissing his slayer.

Buffy eventually drew up enough courage to draw her tongue across his lower lip, seeking permission to enter. Spike eagerly allowed her to explore him, and in doing so, was rewarded with a thankful moan. Her tongue slid against his slowly and teasingly, but this time without the usual battle for dominance that had always tainted their past embraces. The pace of the kiss was slow, neither one of them wishing it to end. Grudgingly pulling away to breathe, Buffy looked up into his eyes, now nearly black with desire, and lovingly stroked his cheek with her thumb.

“I’m sure,” Buffy said before resting her head against his chest. Spike instinctively wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer to him.

That’s when he spotted over her shoulder the back door wide open with Xander and Willow standing in the doorway, eyes widened in shock. Spike loosened his grip on Buffy. He didn’t know how much they had seen but he knew now that there was no going back.

“Luv,” Spike whispered into her ear, “you might want to turn around.”

Buffy instantly tensed the moment she realized what Spike was implying. In painstakingly slow motion she pivoted around out of Spike’s embrace, to find her two best friends staring at her.

“Buffy, what’s going on?” Willow asked. Buffy glanced back at Spike, who seemed to be anxiously awaiting her decision.

“I guess there are some things I have to let you guys in on,” Buffy admitted nervously.

“You might wanna start with explaining what the hell you’re doing with Captain Peroxide…again?!” Xander asked.

Buffy really wasn’t surprised at Xander’s bewilderment. If anything she had expected a far worse reaction. “Spike and I are…together,” Buffy stated carefully.

“Buffy, are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with you being a little demony? Ooo, maybe it’s that demon heart stuff. Maybe it’s attracted to Spike’s demon and you’re misreading it as feelings,” Willow said, sounding like the unsure girl Buffy had known in high school.

“I know it’s not. Coming back out of that dimension made me realize…”

“What?” Xander interjected. “That you love him? Give us a break, Buffy! You know this,” he said waving his hand at Buffy and Spike, “isn’t love. Am I the only one who remembers what happened the last time you two decided to be ‘together’?”

“No, you’re not,” Buffy replied, getting annoyed. “And this is nothing like last year. God, Xander, you walk in on us the moment after I tell Spike I want a relationship and what? Just naturally assume that I’m reverting back to old habits. That I haven’t learned anything since last year? Give me a little credit, alright?” Buffy took a calming breath before she continued. “I have no idea where this thing with Spike’s gonna go, but I have to try. I want to try,” she finished.

“So you guys aren’t sleeping together?” Willow asked sheepishly.

“NO!” Buffy and Spike simultaneously responded.

Willow seemed to be put at ease by the news but Xander appeared to still be a little bitter. “Xander, I didn’t tell you guys because Spike and I are still figuring things out,” Buffy tried to explain as she walked toward her friends.

Defeated, Xander’s shoulders sagged in reluctant acceptance. “I just don’t wanna see you hurt, Buff,” his once infuriated tone now turned to one of concern.

“I won’t. We’re not repeating the past and I want to keep it that way.”

Xander only nodded as he gave Buffy a hug. “I guess I owe Andrew twenty bucks then,” Xander stated as they pulled away from one another.

“Huh?”

“We had this silly bet going. I put twenty on Wood and he put twenty on Spike. Ergo, I’m out of twenty bucks.”

“You guys are now betting on my love life?” Buffy said as she pretended being outraged, smacking Xander lightly on the arm.

“Well, it was that or bet on how many times Anya uses the word orgasm in one day. You’d be surprised, it’s still pretty high,” Xander replied chuckling.

“So, what was so urgent that you guys had to interrupt us?” Buffy asked still smiling, but quickly frowned when she saw the look on her friends’ faces.

“I kinda have to show you,” the witch admitted. “I found it on the net.”

Buffy and Spike quickly followed her friends into the dinning room where Willow had set up her computer. Buffy gazed at the screen. It wasn’t the usual type of web page one encounters when surfing the net. It didn’t have any pretty pictures, ads or, hell, it didn’t even have any colour; just black lettering on stark white background. She noticed a notebook with a translation written out in pen beside the laptop. Buffy read it ahead of Willow’s explanation and knew that it was their first real breakthrough, even though its vague words petrified her.

“There’s this message. There’s no name or links to find out who posted it. It doesn’t even have a home page. I think there’s some definite magic involved because it’s like this thing came out of thin air. And before you ask, I tried to use a few spells to trace it but they’ve all come up short,” Willow said as she sat in the chair in font of the computer. “The message itself could be a warning, or an answer to a question. It’s kinda cryptic, which with our experience is never good.”

“Well, what does it say?” Spike asked, not liking the way things were progressing.

“It’s in a rare Sumerian dialect. Lucky for us Giles left behind one of his books on uncommon ancient languages. Anyway, it says ‘She and spirits will unite, but in slumber they will remain. Only to be awakened when her lifeless blood kills the Tainted One. Its power initiated by the wielding. The source will find its end.”

The room was dead silent when Willow finished reading the prophetic message. They all remained speechless, unsure if they truly understood what they had just heard. It was Xander who first voiced a bit of confusion. “So, uh, is it just me, or did anybody else pick up on a ‘Buffy’s gonna die’ vibe?”

“We don’t know that. You know how these things are. They’re never really what they seem,” Willow stated.

“Let’s hope not. I’m getting really tired of dying,” Buffy joked receiving grim faces as her only response.

“Okay, let’s go through it logically. Obviously the spirits gotta be that demon mist that possessed Buffy. And it kinda explains why you don’t feel any different because it still got to be awakened,” Willow deduced.

“With my lifeless blood,” Buffy added.

“How does that work? I mean, how can it be awoken and be useful if Buffy’s not of the living?” Xander asked, deeply concerned.

“I’m not of the living and I’m still useful,” Spike said, not liking where this line of discussion was headed.

“Oh my god, do you think that the only way to unleash the power is for Buffy to be turned?” Willow asked.

Xander suddenly jumped out of his seat, glaring furiously at Spike. “I knew you’d be the end of her. I knew keeping you around was going to get us all killed. And now, there’s this mystic message telling us I was right all along!” Xander spouted, walking up to the vampire. “Pat yourself on the back, Spike. You might actually bag yourself your third slayer.”

“Xander!” Willow reprimanded, shocked at his insensitivity to the situation.

“Step off, whelp. I might play nice but don’t got the chip any more to stop me,” Spike warned, refusing to be intimated.

“Xander,” Buffy called to her best friend. Seeing the desperation in her face, the brunette stepped away and sat himself back down, his eyes never leaving the notorious William the Bloody.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Buffy said. “What I wanna know is who the hell is this ‘Tainted One’?”

“And it says you’re gonna wield something. That’s probably important too. A weapon maybe?” Willow wondered.

“Not to mention the ending of ‘the source’. But the source of what? The source of my powers?” Buffy said.

“Maybe it’s the source of evil, luv. Ya know, the First?” Spike guessed.

“I hope so,” Buffy responded. “This is so much worse than one of my slayer dreams.”

“So we just keep at it then?” Willow asked feeling a little disheartened.

“Don’t really have a choice, but I have a feeling its not gonna do us any good. Like every good cryptic prophecy, this one’s not gonna make any sense until it’s too late,” Buffy replied. “I better go and prep for patrol.”

Spike watched as the slayer left the room, in obvious need to distract herself, but leaving him in the unfortunate presence of her two best friends.

“You’d think I’d actually hurt her like that? Turn her into something she’s worked so hard to fight against?” Spike asked, sensing Xander’s gaze boring into the back of his head.

“Yes, I do. You might have a soul, Spike, but you haven’t proven yourself trustworthy,” Xander stated. “Not to mention the fact that the trigger’s still active and you weren’t so against turning people when you were under the First’s thumb.”

Pivoting around, Spike’s eyes narrowed when they met Xander’s. “Listen, you git. Get it through that thick skull of yours. I’d never hurt her. Rather be burned to a cinder than to see her cry. Get that, whelp? I. Love. Her.”

“You had a funny way of showing it when you tried to rape her. Or did you think we’d just forget all about that?”

Spike turned his back on Xander, ready to follow after Buffy. “No,” he answered. “Why should you? I know I haven’t.” With that said, the vampire made his way into the hallway.

“Xander,” Willow said, sounding as though she was about to scold him.

“Look, Will. I know we’re supposed to support Buffy in whatever makes her happy, and I know I seemed like I was okay with it, but I’m not. Knowing what that message says, how can I possibly root for them? She’s putting herself in danger every time she’s near him. I wish I could drop my suspicions about him, but I just can’t,” Xander prattled on.

“You finished?” Willow asked slightly annoyed.

“What’s with the hostility, Will?” Xander inquired, seeing Willow’s flustered expression. “Just stop being a goober-head and come look at this for a second,” the witch ordered.

Xander scooted his chair closer to the redhead so that he could actually see what she was talking about. He peered over at the translation written in the notebook, his gaze focusing on the area of the paper where Willow was rapidly tapping her index finger. “Well, what is it?”

Before answering Xander’s question, Willow searched Giles’s text, frantically flipping through pages as she followed her hunch. Upon finding the page she had been looking for, the witch quickly glanced at her notebook, checking and double checking her translation. With sudden comprehension of what she had just discovered, Willow let out a sheepish squeak. “Ooops.”

“Ooops? What ooops? Ooops is never good, Will. What are we ooopsing?”

“I think I might have accidentally made a little booboo in my haste to translate the message,” she explained.

“So, what did you misinterpret?”

“I…I don’t think it’s Buffy’s lifeless blood that kills the Tainted One.”

“Why do you say that?” Xander prodded.

“See this word here,” Willow said as she pointed to the computer screen. “I thought it meant ‘blood’, but it actually means ‘life’. The two words are kinda really similar so I mixed them up and when I fixed it, it totally changed the context of that part the message.”

“Out with it, Willow,” Xander said impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, the witch continued. “It’s not ‘her lifeless blood’ but ‘the lifeless life’ that kills the Tainted One.”

“What does that mean? It makes everything sound a hell of a lot more cryptic,” Xander commented.

“Think about it Xander? Who do we know who’s lifeless yet living?”

Xander paused to think. “No! You must have made another mistake. There’s no way.”

“No, I didn’t. Spike’s not gonna hurt Buffy, he’s going to help her.”


TBC

A/N: Thnx Darkezza

Chapter Six: Dealing With It

Patrol had been a remote success. No one got hurt and the Potentials were actually using the skills they had been taught. Buffy had decided to take the girls who had had the most training, namely Kennedy, Molly, Amanda, Vi and Rona. With the exception of Amanda, it had been these few girls who Buffy and Spike had earlier taken out on a slayerette fieldtrip to the various demon haunts of Sunnydale. Buffy remembered that night with a bit of self-deprecation, remembering the not-so-graceful demonstration she and Spike had put on for the Potentials in the cemetery after the girls had been unsuccessful in facing off against the vampire. Unintentionally pouncing on Spike while he had still been healing from being tortured by the First, and the somewhat inappropriate ‘so do we like make out wif’ ‘em?’ remark Molly had made after Buffy had instinctively shoved her hands under the vampire’s shirt hadn’t been the only faux-pas of that night.

Sure, discovering that Amanda was the Sunnydale Potential and managing to give the girls a fair amount of field experience had been major bonuses, but there had still been some setbacks. The problem lay in the simplest fact that the girls were growing dangerously accustomed to working with a safety net. Spike’s mock attacks had been just that, mocks. Even if the girls had been scared of him, deep down they must have known Spike would never actually hurt them. And when Buffy had locked them up in the crypt with that newly risen vamp, she knew the girls would be okay because the odds had been on their side. The slayer realized that as long as she was around to hold their hands, they were never going to be completely ready for what lay ahead. So this time around, things had gone a little differently.

Buffy gave each girl only a stake and placed them in front of a freshly dug grave, making them wait for the vampire to arise. Just like she had done for Dawn during the summer, the Slayer would simply stand by and watch. But that was all she did. None of the other girls could help and Buffy would only intervene if the Potential’s life was in danger. It was up to them and them alone to kill the vampire.

Buffy didn’t expect anything extraordinary. They were amateurs and it was their first real patrol. Hell, she had even missed the heart on her first try and she was the Slayer. Yet, the girls had left her astonished. The fact that they had used their newly acquired skills gave her further hope that they weren’t completely doomed. Kennedy’s form had been flawless, which was to be expected but what had really floored Buffy was that the brash overtly self-assured attitude was gone, replaced instead with a humble ‘thank you’ for any compliment sent her way. The other four girls had also dusted their vamps, and apart from Vi’s not so graceful and fearful squeals, they had done a pretty good job of it too.

As the gang made their way back to the house from Restfield, the girls chatted about their one-on-one’s with the vampires, bubbling over with excitement and still reeling from the adrenaline rush that patrolling always brought on. Spike and Buffy remained a few paces back observing the group and even chuckling at some of the remarks the girls made. No words, however, were exchanged between the two of them, a residual silence that had passed over from patrol. It wasn’t until they had reached the front porch with all the girls safely inside the house that Buffy finally spoke.

“So, what do you think? And I mean what do you really think? They’re inside so you won’t hurt any of their feelings,” Buffy asked, leaning against the brick wall opposite to Spike, who was himself leaning against a column.

“They did good considerin’ a few weeks ago they were a bunch of scared girls without a chance in hell,” Spike replied.

“And now? Where do you think they stand?”

“Still a bunch of scared girls, but with a slightly better chance in hell. Even still, it’s some sort of an improvement,” Spike said, trying to sound optimistic.

“‘Slightly better’ is better than nothing,” Buffy shrugged. “But the scared part, that’ll stick around for a while, even if any of them become slayers.”

Spike’s casual and relaxed countenance disappeared at her words. With tense hesitation, he turned his cerulean gaze to the ground, knowing that what he was about to bring up was in no doubt going to upset Buffy. “Pet,” I know we haven’t talked ‘bout the little prophecy Red found today, but…” Spike began, nodding his bowed head, as though he were agreeing with some unspoken truth.

“There’s nothing to bring up,” the Slayer cut off, dismissing the issue with a wave of the hand. Spike’s head shot up, taken aback by her uncharacteristic cavalier attitude. “Just another message that confuses more than it helps,” Buffy quickly stated, refusing to look the vampire in the eyes.

“Buffy, what Willow was alluding to, ‘bout you possibly…and my involvement…” Spike pushed, interrupted again by an exasperated Buffy.

“Can we not? Things are crazy enough already. Getting all freaked about it isn’t going to help anyone. Who knows? Maybe this mystery message is completely bogus and it’s just the First messing with us,” she replied, urgently reaching for any reason to disregard the issue.

“You’re dodgin’,” Spike commented.

“I am not. I don’t think it’s worth getting all upset over, is all,” Buffy defended.

“Oh really? Then you mind tellin’ me why the hell your hands are shaking?”

Buffy was about to tell him she didn’t know what he was talking about until she glanced down at said hands. Noticing that they were trembling, she instantly drew them to her chest. “It’s from patrolling. You know the ever infamous rush I get?”

“Denial, pet. Not a river in Egypt.”

“What are you my shrink?”

“…”

“Don’t answer that.”

“Just sayin’, for someone who’s so sure about the unimportance of that lil’ cryptic note Red found on the web, you seem real edgy,” Spike quipped.

“Am not!”

“You know you are pet,” Spike said, growing a little solemn. “I thought we were past this?”

“Past what?”

“Lying to each other.”

“I’m not lying,” she stated, but seeing Spike’s unconvinced face made Buffy groan in surrender. “Fine, I’m a liar. A big fat horrible liar. Are you happy now?” she unwillingly admitted, clearly deflated by the fact that she was actually going to have to talk about this with him.

“You know you don’t have to keep it all together when you’re ‘round me. The brave face you put on for them doesn’t work with me. I know you Buffy. This thing has got you more scared than you’re willin’ to admit. And rightly it should. I’m even bloody petrified.”

Buffy looked at him a little skeptical. “You didn’t really seem that scared when you were nearly ripping Xander a new one,” Buffy pointed out, not sounding upset but being matter of fact.

“I should have. Throwing his mouth off like that ‘bout you. A good thrashing is what the whelp needs, and not even you can convince me otherwise,” Spike scowled but realized he was getting off track. “You’re wrong ya know. I was terrified from the moment Red read us that stupid bulletin from hell. Just didn’t want to loose face in front of the Glorified Brick Layer.”

“That’s just great. You wanna be scared, go right ahead. And while you’re quivering in your boots, I’ll be using my time to actually do something productive in our fight against the First,” she sardonically admonished, subconsciously trying to get him so mad that he’d forget what they were arguing about.

“God, why can’t you just admit it? Not too long ago you were so frightened that you were about ready to give up, ‘bout to throw in the proverbial towel. Now, you’re refusin’ to even acknowledge the possibility that that fucking prophecy might actually be true!” Spike vented, throwing his arms up dramatically in the air when she didn’t respond. “What is going on, Buffy?”

The Slayer stared at her boots for a good while, knowing that her misleadingly composed demeanor would instantly crack if she glanced up at those all knowing azure eyes. “If I admit it, then it might actually happen. I don’t wanna die again, Spike,” she mumbled; her voice tight with fear and vulnerability.

Spike watched as Buffy finally let down the stone walls she had put up since they had discovered the prophecy. He had known she was avoiding the topic and he had known she was frightened. More importantly however, Spike knew that Buffy needed to admit to it before any of them could deal with the impending doom foretold by the anonymous web posting.

Walking over towards her, Spike took Buffy’s still shaking hands into one of his own while he lifted her chin so that he could gaze into those pools of emerald that generally shone with such life. The single tear that trickled down her cheek broke his unbeating heart. He wiped it away, wishing to be rid of any evidence of Buffy’s unhappiness.

“When you left the room this afternoon, Xander and I had a few words. Told him I would never deliberately hurt you and that I’d do anything to keep you from gettin’ hurt,” he frankly started to explain, making sure she didn’t misunderstand what he was saying.

“Spike, I know…”

“No, wait luv, lemme finish,” Spike continued. “Even though I said it and I meant it, deep down I don’t even know if I can keep that promise. With our not so stellar record of being good for each other and with the First being all trigger happy, I don’t know if I can promise anything. The thought of you bein’ takin’ away from me again is excruciating enough as it is, I can’t even bear the thought that I’d…” he choked, not wanting to finish the sentence.

Spike cleared his throat. “Maybe I should leave. It’s probably best. You got Red, and maybe you could give Peaches a call. He’d be here in no time if you needed him. I could go and you could be safe.”

Buffy averted her eyes from his gaze, making Spike believe her silence was an indication that she felt as he did. “I’ll leave tomorrow at dusk,” he added.

The Slayer still said nothing, an indiscernible expression on her face. Spike nodded, the grip he had on Buffy’s trembling hand loosening as he took a step back. As he pulled away, he was surprised to find Buffy still holding onto him, refusing to let go. Spike stared at their clasped hands, his eyes following up from them to Buffy’s face. If it was possible she looked even more terrified.

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

“Just answer me. Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you, you crazy bint.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” Buffy said, tugging him back toward her.

“What about the prophecy?” Spike asked, as Buffy slowly placed her hands on his shoulders.

“I remember another prophecy we encountered a few years back that also proclaimed my untimely end. And here I am, still living,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Making sure he saw the sincerity in her eyes, Buffy continued. “I don’t care what that message says. It could literally say ‘Spike kills Buffy’ and I still wouldn’t believe it. They’re just words. I said that I believed in you and I meant it.”

“When did this lil’ epiphany happen? Two seconds ago you were scared for your life and now you’re tellin’ me you don’t care what the bloody hell the message says? Gotta say, you get over things real quick,” Spike stated, enjoying the intimacy Buffy was bestowing on him.

“Don’t get me wrong. You were right. I was freaked and the prophecy thing did throw me off for like a second but that doesn’t change how I feel about us. About you.”

“And how exactly do you feel, pet?”

Almost as though the god’s were working against the vampire, the front door swung open, revealing a very distraught Andrew.

“Buffy, Xander won’t pay me the twenty bucks he owes me,” he whined, at first oblivious to what he had interrupted. Snapping out of his bout of ignorance and seeing Spike and the Slayer in such an uncompromising position, the boy pulled out his video camera. “Hold that pose. This will be great for my segment I’m doing on you guys. I’m calling it ‘Buffy and Spike: Enemies Turned Lovers’.”

“If you press record, I swear to God I’ll smash that camera over your head,” Buffy warned from within Spike’s embrace, sending the newfound filmmaker a searing glare that looked as though it could potentially boil the geek from the inside out.

Andrew gulped and slowly lowered the video camera.

Groaning, Buffy grudgingly slipped out from Spike’s arms. “We’ll talk about this later,” she whispered to him. Spike nodded and followed after Buffy as she grabbed hold of Andrew by the collar and dragged him into the house. After ordering the ex-Trio member to go anywhere else that she wasn’t, Buffy spotted Willow and Xander waiting for her in the living room.

“Buffy,” Willow said calmly. “We need to tell you something,” she added, her voice strong and confident, devoid of its usual meekness.

Upon seeing Willow’s stern face, Buffy became instantly worried. “Uh oh. Please don’t tell me you found another anonymous posting cuz I just don’t know how much crypticness I can take in one day,” Buffy said as she made her way over to them, dispiritedly flopping down on one of the room’s sofa chairs.

“No. It’s not like that. There’s just still the one.”

“Oh. Good,” Buffy exhaled in relief, feeling the reassuring squeeze from Spike’s hand that had somehow settled on her shoulder.

“But what I have to talk to you about is kinda on the one we found today. Let me just say first of all that I’m really sorry Buffy. I hope I didn’t mess things up for the two of you,” the redhead rambled nervously, the old Willow coming through in full force.

“Willow, whoa! You wanna let us in on what’s going on?”

“I made a mistake in the translation,” the redhead squeaked out.

“Just let me know one thing, the new prophecy- better or worse?” Buffy asked.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Xander remarked, breaking his bout of silence.

“Don’t listen to him. It’s definitely better. Here look,” Willow said handing Buffy the notebook.

The Slayer scanned the page, searching for any differences between the new version and the last. Discovering the changes, she asked, “Lifeless life? What does that mean?”

Buffy suddenly felt Spike’s hand squeeze her shoulder again. “Read it out loud for us pet.”

“She and spirits will unite, but in slumber they will remain. Only to be awakened when the lifeless life kills the Tainted One. Its power initiated by the wielding. The source will find its end,” Buffy read out loud, feeling Spike’s grip gradually loosen as she finished.

“What the heck is a ‘lifeless life’?” she asked.

“You should know Buffy,” Xander answered. “You are dating one.”

Buffy instantly turned around to look at Spike. “So Spike kills the Tainted guy?” she asked, her gaze never leaving the vampire.

“That’s what it says,” Willow replied. “And for certain this time. Have I mentioned how sorry I am for messing up?”

Buffy turned away from Spike, who appeared relieved by the news, to speak to her best friend. “You did. It’s okay, Will. Now that we know what it really says, we can move on with our lives,” Buffy reasoned, peering down at her watch. “Wow, it’s late. I think I better get to bed.”

“I second that. Ancient translations really hurt Willow’s brain,” the witch stated before she made her way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Will. I better get going too,” Xander said, picking up his jacket and car keys. As he headed toward the front door, Buffy called out to him. “Xander, wait.”

Upon seeing Xander stop and face her, Buffy turned to Spike. “I’ll be just be a minute. Go on up. I’ll be right there,” she instructed before planting a quick peck on his lips.

“Don’t keep me waitin’ long,” the vampire replied, giving Buffy another much deeper kiss than the one she’d given him, knowing that Xander was watching them. Leaving her slightly breathless, Spike marched up the stairs, giving the two friends some much needed quality time.

“Xander…” Buffy started.

“Buffy, I know I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said. And believe me, right now, I’m suffering from major foot in mouth disease.”

“I wasn’t going to pick a fight and I wasn’t expecting an apology,” Buffy explained. “I just don’t want us being angry with each other.”

Xander could see how much he had actually hurt Buffy. It was a rare occasion when she opened up enough to let him in. So seeing her like that told him he must have really screwed up. “I’m not mad at you,” he said.

“Then what was with the silent treatment in there?” Buffy asked, pointing to the living room.

“Okay, I am mad but not at you.”

“And Spike?”

“Only a little,” he admitted.

“So if you’re not mad at me and only marginally peeved at Spike, what has got you so moody?”

“I’m mad at myself, Buffy.”

“What? Why?” the Slayer inquired, uncertain as to what her friend was referring to.

“About what I said to you. I’m mad at the fact that I might actually ruin our friendship because I can’t get over my stupid fear.”

“What fear?” Buffy asked, becoming concerned.

“That you’ll end up dead and there was nothing I could do to stop it,” he answered, his voice weak.

“Xander…”

“And I know that technically you already died. But the whole time you were gone was worst time of my life. I hated feeling like we failed you somehow. That’s why I agreed, why we all agreed to help Willow bring you back. We thought we were doing the right thing,” he explained.

“I know you did,” Buffy said, trying to put him at ease.

“And then you came back and the thought of seeing you die again…” He paused. “And then when Willow read that prophecy, I guess I just snapped. I’m really sorry, Buffy.”

“It’s okay, Xander. I understand. I’m kind of just relieved that we’re not angry with each other,” Buffy told him, giving him a hug. “And you know you’re one of the reasons why I’m still around, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, pulling away.

“You’re worried that I might die and you wouldn’t have been able to do anything to stop it, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, if I remember correctly, there was this one time, when I was fighting this really ugly vamp and I almost drowned…”

“The Master,” Xander interjected.

“Uh huh. As I recall, you were able to do something about it and you saved my life.”

Xander gave Buffy another hug. “Thanks.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” she responded, squeezing him back tenderly.

Once Buffy waved goodbye to the man she’d been best friends with since her first day at Sunnydale High, she bolted up the stairs. Opening her bedroom door, she found Spike staring at some of the pictures on her dresser. “Did the whelp apologize?” he asked, knowing she was staring at him.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Good,” Spike replied, placing the photo of Buffy and her two friends back down in its original spot. “Didn’t want to beat it out of him.”

“Thanks for being so civil.”

“Took all the will power I had in me to not wring his neck,” Spike exclaimed, gesturing a faux strangle to emphasize his point.

“I know,” Buffy smiled, walking up to him. “Can we go to bed now?” she asked, pouting.

“Pet, you know what that lip does to me,” Spike half-heartedly scolded.

“Yup,” she giggled. “Now get to bed.”

Slipping out of his duster and unlacing his boots, the vampire did as he was told and jumped onto the bed. “Happy?”

“Very,” she answered as she kicked off her own stylish yet affordable boots.

Before Buffy could even ask, Spike turned his back to her so that she could change into her pajamas. Suppressing a groan, he waited patiently until he felt Buffy’s side of the bed sink in. Lying down beside her, Spike drew Buffy into his arms as she pulled the covers over them.

“Can we stay like this forever?” Buffy asked, snuggling into the vampire’s chest.

“Won’t get any opposition from me, luv.”

“Hmmm…”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“You never did tell me how you felt.”

“About?”

“Us. Me,” Spike said quietly.

“Oh.”

“You said that we’d talk ‘bout it later since the boy wonder interrupted us.”

“That I did.”

“Well, it’s later.”

“That it is.”

“Luv, if you don’t wanna talk about this, we can just go to sleep. That’s fine with me.”

“No. I think that this is too important to put off.”

“Alright.”

Exhaling, Buffy pulled herself off of Spike and rolled onto her side so that she could talk to him face to face. “I know, Spike, that you love me. I won’t deny that fact anymore. And as easy as it is for you to know it and say it, I wish that were the case for me. It’s no secret that Buffy Summer’s has severe emotional issues. You of all people should know how messed up I am.” She stopped to calm herself. “Being the Slayer, coming back from the dead, loosing my mom are just some of the numerous reasons why it’s hard for me to let anyone in. Not to mention the fact that all the men in my life have left me at one point in time or another,” she paused in reflection. “Sorry, correction. All but one.”

“The whelp,” Spike filled in the blank.

“The guy who’s got no superpowers or combat training or any extensive demon book smarts is the one that sticks around. Xander’s never left. It’s partly why I couldn’t let him leave here tonight without making sure everything was alright between us. I can’t have him leave me,” Buffy explained, her voice choking with emotion.

“Pet…”

“I can’t have you leave me either, Spike. When you weren’t here last summer, I hated you so much, but God how I missed you. And I know why you left and I’m so grateful for what you went through for me, but it still hurt because you were just another person I had managed to drive away,” Buffy sniffled, wiping away a tear. “Tonight, when you told me you were gonna leave, all I could think about was how I wasn’t ready for you not to be here. I need you Spike.”

“You know I would never intentionally leave you, pet. Thought I was doing what was best,” he commented as he stroked her cheek lovingly.

“I know you were, but you can’t leave me.”

“I won’t. Gotta prophecy to fulfill now,” he joked and kissed her softly on the lips. Slowly allowing Spike to pull her back into his arms, Buffy nestled against him. “I can wait until you’re ready,” he whispered.

“I want to say it but…”

“It’s alright, luv. Now go to sleep. School day tomorrow.”

Buffy groaned into Spike’s shoulder at the thought of having to wake up in another five hours. The room grew quiet suddenly as the two of them began to fall asleep. Yet, before the vampire could slip into sweet repose, he was brought back by Buffy’s voice.

“What was that, luv?”

“Were you actually serious about having me call up Angel to help us out if you ever left?”

“Total lapse of sanity. Don’t know what I was thinkin’. Why, you’re not considerin’ ringin’ him up, are you?” Spike asked, sounding apprehensive.

“Naw, already got one souled vampire to deal with.”

“Thank God.”

“Plus, he would’ve probably self-combusted the second he found out about us,” she added.

“I’ll go get the phone.”


A/N: Thnx Darkezza for helping me paint my Spuffy world.


A/N:I know it's been a while since I posted but writers block and exams were kicking my ass! So here's the long awaited CH 7 and there should be more frequent updates from now on. Thnx to those who leave reviews, they're really appreciated and thnx to anyone reading this chap. It means that you're stickin with it. Thnx a bunch!

Chapter Seven: Reflection

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Buffy drummed her pencil against her desk, taking her boredom out on the small writing utensil. An exasperated huffed breath sent her blonde bangs flying. Friday afternoons were always the worst. No students had come in to see her because they were too busy counting down the minutes until the bell rang for their weekends to begin. Buffy couldn’t really blame them, though. She wanted to get the hell out of there as much as they did. Buffy sighed. She still had half an hour to kill, so tapping away at her desk was her only option to remain somewhat sane.

The quiet nature of that afternoon mirrored the theme of Buffy’s past week. In a short amount of time, she had already developed a routine for herself. She’d wake up every morning in Spike’s arms, fight the girls for bathroom privileges, race to work, advise teenagers on issues that she sometimes thought she had no right giving advice on, come home to help Spike train the SITs, go out for a patrol, go back home to crawl into bed and back into Spike’s arms. Yup, the past week had been uneventful, even a little mundane. Well except for the one day when the students had gone all wonky, the activated Evil Seal in the school basement had turned the high school into Hellmouth ground zero. But like all the dilemmas that seemed to occur every Tuesdays, she had dealt with it. A few remorseful tears from Andrew had closed the seal and cured the school of all residual evil that had been emanating from that hot spot. But other than that, Buffy would’ve considered the past week to be pretty much excitement free.

Andrew’s incessant videotaping had even diminished a bit, too. Buffy had agreed to let him record Spike’s sessions with the Potentials, since some of the girls had voiced that it actually helped with their training. She had also allowed him to videotape what he wanted so long as he didn’t get in the way. Buffy would catch him now and again, but he’d either run away or begrudgingly turn off the camera. At first she thought the whole videotaping thing was annoying and a total waste of energy, but now that she had time to think about it, it wasn’t such a terrible idea. If they did defeat the First, it would be nice to have something to look back on.

Buffy abruptly stopped tapping her pencil. Andrew’s videos were probably the only proof she had of Spike. There were no pictures or mementos that she’d collected over the years she’d known him. Actually that wasn’t true. She had kept a few things. That skull ring from when they had been ‘engaged’, a blue silk shirt of his that she had snatched and put on after one of their numerous rendezvous last year, and the silver lighter that had somehow ended back up in her possession were the only few things she had to prove that she had ever known Spike. Buffy made a mental note to pull out her camera when she got home, take a few pictures when Spike wasn’t looking. She needed at least one picture of him. Maybe she’d put it in a pretty frame and place it on her desk, so she could look at him everyday. He was her boyfriend after all.

Buffy couldn’t help but smile at the thought. If someone had told her last year that she’d truly fall for Spike, she would have directed them to the nearest insane asylum. But here she was, thinking of him as her boyfriend, which was a major milestone all of its own. Things hadn’t ended so well with her last vampire boyfriend. Yet, she knew Spike wasn’t Angel in more ways than one. Buffy chuckled at the memory from earlier that week when she had to pry the telephone from Spike’s hands just to stop him from calling Angel. He had wanted to tell her ex about them, to rub it in his face. Buffy didn’t know what it was about those two but one day she was going to stick them in a room and let them wrestle it out. Her eyes widened in excitement as she giggled. There could be some kind of oil involved…

Buffy’s eyes absentmindedly scanned the room until they landed on Principal Wood’s office door. After the whole Seal of Danzalthar debacle, she noticed some seriously weird vibes coming from the demon hunting principal. The past week, Robin had been distant and a bit of a recluse. Buffy had interpreted it as him dealing with the reality of what lay beneath the foundation of his school. Getting possessed by the seal when he had stood upon it and witnessing how easily the high school had fallen apart at the hands of the First was probably like an awakening sledge hammer to the head. She hoped that he wasn’t too completely overwhelmed, but she understood how it could take a while for the gravity of what was happening to settle in. ‘He better get out of this little funk soon,’ she reflected, nibbling on the end of her pencil, her hazel eyes still glued to the closed office door ‘before it’s too late.’

Yet, she couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t just the affects of the Seal that were playing with his mood. After she had dragged Andrew out of the basement, Buffy had noticed some sort of nonverbal macho exchange going on between Spike and Wood. It was after that night that even she couldn’t deny that there were serious tensions between those two. She hadn’t brought up the issue to either of them, but she suspected something bad must have happened to set them against each other. Buffy wanted to believe it was some sort of jealousy thing, but as much as her vanity wished it were so, she knew it wasn’t the case. Spike knew she was his and she’d only gone on one date with Wood that had amounted to little more than a fun night out. There was something else that she didn’t know about. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Robin’s mother was a Slayer, one who had died at the hands of a vampire. Perhaps because of that he had some kind of innate distrust of Spike. Wood’s feelings made sense to Buffy, and so did Spike’s. You don’t get in Spike’s face unless you want him to rip you a new one. With the exception of her, and possibly even Dawn, Spike didn’t take shit from anyone. ‘Especially,’ Buffy inwardly noted, ‘from a guy who had been zeroing in on his girl.’

Buffy looked up at the clock; a little over five minutes had dragged by. She dejectedly glanced over the door again. She had considered telling Wood about her and Spike, but she wasn’t sure how to bring it up in casual conversation. Buffy didn’t want to keep any secrets from him, especially when she needed as many people fighting on her side as possible, but his recent bout of emotional isolation and his blatant dislike of her vampire boyfriend were making it all the much harder for her to get with the truth telling. Every time Spike unintentionally came up in any of their conversations, an intense flash of anger would pass over Robin’s eyes, which was then nearly instantly replaced with a mask of somber disposition. All Buffy could do was give Wood a little time, but the clock was literally ticking and she was going to have to tell him sometime soon.

There was also one last person she had to inform. Giles. The thought made hyperactive butterflies spontaneously form in her stomach. When she had had Spike’s chip removed, Giles had nearly burst a blood vessel. He had warned her about getting close to the vampire and had said that he didn’t like the idea of how they depended too much on one another. Basically, in not so many words, Giles had told her he would disapprove of any relationship she had with Spike, romantic and nonromantic alike. At the time she hadn’t given his warnings much thought but now his words replayed in her mind, making her worry all the more. Giles was gonna flip and she so didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. She didn’t want to waste the precious time they might possibly have left debating on the issue of who she chose to date.

As much as she had enjoyed the unconventional and rare period of calmness in her life, the week had been a little too quiet. Though they were still in full research mode, there had been no new developments in the demon mist possession/prophecy department. It also made Buffy anxious that the First hadn’t reared its ugly head in a while. Being the all knowing pain in the ass that it was, it should be aware of the change in her relationship with Spike. The First could have easily triggered Spike when Buffy had been asleep with him in her bed. There were so many instances when it could have used him to get to her. But it hadn’t. The First also had to know about the prophecy. It had said it wasn’t Spike’s time yet. Maybe the First hadn’t messed with Spike because it wanted him to kill the Tainted One. Buffy suddenly panicked. What if the Tainted One was really someone fighting on their side? What if Spike killing him was a bad thing? Logic and confusion immediately sunk in. If that were true, why would he be called the Tainted One? Buffy clutched the side of her head, feeling a headache about to come on from all the neurotic thinking she was doing.

She gazed up at the clock again, still another twenty minutes to go. Buffy blankly stared at her computer, watching the minutes crawl by at the bottom right corner of the screen. After two minutes had passed, she yawned loudly and looked around for something else to do. Grabbing hold of her trusty pencil, she started to doodle a little on the multicolored notepad on her desk, making little hearts with stakes through them. Buffy was busily killing time when Principal Wood’s office door opened.

“Buffy?” he called out in an attempt to get her attention.

Buffy’s head shot up; she though he’d caught her slacking off. The casual smile on his face told her otherwise. Buffy intently looked over Wood, and smiled back when she realized that not only had he no clue how much of an unproductive afternoon she’d had but that he seemed to have gotten out of his moody slump. “What’s up?” she asked cheerfully.

“I was actually going to ask you that,” Wood good-humouredly stated, walking over to her desk. Peering down at what she was doing, he chuckled. “I guess it’s been kinda slow today, huh?”

Buffy groaned, dramatically slouching in her seat. “The slowest.”

“Go, on. Get out of here,” he gestured with the flick of his head.

Buffy however shook her hers. “I still got fifteen minutes, I can stick around for a while longer,” she unenthusiastically rationalized, feeling like it was the polite thing to do.

Wood shrugged indifferently. “If that’s what you want…”

Buffy suddenly jumped up out of her seat. “Well, if you insist,” she said quickly as she grabbed her purse before he could take back the offer. “See you Monday, boss.” Buffy waved a goodbye as she bolted out of the school, leaving a slightly bewildered Robin to only chuckle at her antics. Buffy might be polite but she wasn’t stupid. Throwing the school’s main doors open, she took a deep breath of fresh air. ‘Ah, freedom.’


********


Buffy strolled down Revello Drive, enjoying the afternoon California sun. As she neared her house, she saw a small group of Potentials heading her way. Fearing the worst, Buffy frantically sprinted to them. They looked ragged; sweating and very much out of breath. Then she noticed how uniform their running was, which made her stop and stand to watch them make their way down the street. The moment the group passed by her, some saying a few wheezing hellos, Buffy knew that they were jogging. She turned to watch them round the street corner as they went around the block. Determinedly getting back on track on her way home, she waved at another group that ran by her. ‘Why were the SITs running around town? Better yet, why weren’t they training?’

Opening the front door, she walked into an empty and quiet house. Now Buffy definitely knew something was wrong. “Dawn? Spike?” she yelled as she marched through the front hall, looking for anyone to explain to her what the hell was going on.

“In here pet,” she heard Spike’s calm voice coming from the living room. Following it, she stepped into the unusually dark room, noticing that the thick curtains had been drawn over the large window. What she saw puzzled her, yet strangely enough it also made her want to laugh out loud.

There was Spike, sitting in the middle of the big comfy couch, his feet carelessly propped up on the coffee table, with a mug of warmed blood in one hand and a newspaper in the other. All that was missing were a pair of reading glasses on the tip of his nose to make the scene complete. Buffy giggled as she sat down beside him. “Don’t you look comfy?”

Spike lowered the newspaper he’d been holding up to his lap, shifting his body to look at Buffy. “Just takin’ a lil’ break, is all,” he replied, a wide grin on his face. His sapphire eyes sparkled at the sound of Buffy’s laughter; it was so rare, he could never get enough of it.

“So what’s with the Slayer Marathon outside?” she inquired, comfortably settling against his side.

“Sent them out for a bit of a run. Little endurance training never hurt nobody,” he indifferently answered as he finished his cup of O neg.

“That’s easy for you to say. Some of them looked like they were about to plotz,” Buffy remarked, taking his empty mug and placing it on the new coffee table.

“No point in teachin ‘em fightin’ skills if they can’t last longer than ten minutes in an actual fight,” he stood firm, knowing he was right.

Buffy’s hand trailed up his muscled arm to the back of his neck, lovingly running her fingers through the short hairs she found there. “I know Spike, but you have to remember that those girls aren’t us. They don’t have my slayer strength or your vampire stamina,” she softly argued.

Spike tried not to purr like a kitten as she continued to play with his hair. “Gonna rag on the stamina now, pet?” he asked, doing that curling tongue thing against the back of his teeth that always made Buffy secretly weak in the knees.

Shaking off his attempt to distract her with his talented tongue, Buffy smacked the back of his head. “No. Just don’t push them too hard, okay? I don’t need a house load of exhausted Potentials on my hands,” she cautioned sternly, crossing her arms to emphasize her point.

“Alright, pet,” Spike caved, rubbing the back of his sore skull. “Another two laps and I’ll call them in.”

“Good,” she huffily stated. Buffy then suddenly realized that no one was watching the girls. Sure, they were in broad daylight but you could never be too safe. “Spike, you sent them out there without any supervision? What if something happens?” she fretfully wondered as she moved to get off the couch.

Before she could make a run for the front door, Spike grabbed her arm and pulled her into his lap. She halfheartedly struggled against his hold, eventually melding herself against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I sent the whelp out with ‘em. Figured he could use a few laps,” he whispered into her ear.

Buffy let out a sigh of relief. At least having Xander out there meant someone was keeping an eye on the SITs. She peered up at the smug look Spike was giving her. “Well, don’t you have everything taken cared of?” she indignantly remarked, jutting out her bottom lip in a pathetic sneer.

Spike chuckled at the adorable display. “Look at that lip,” he said as he lowered his mouth to hers. “Gonna get it.”

Buffy pushed against his chest, dodging his every move. “Ewww. Spike, you got blood breath,” she whined girlishly as he relentlessly tried to kiss her.

“C’mon, luv. You didn’t even give me a kiss hello,” Spike complained as he flipped them so that he was on top of her.

Buffy shook her head vigorously, keeping her mouth tightly shut.

“Okay, but you asked for it,” Spike warned before he started to tickle her.

“Spike, stop it,” she panted between fits of laughter. “Please,” she squealed out a giggle.

“Not until I get a kiss,” he refused, continuing in his mission to make Buffy pee her pants.

“Fine! I surrender,” she grudgingly conceded, wrapping her arms around Spike’s neck.

Spike smirked. “Knew you’d see things my way,” he commented as he plundered her mouth with his.

Buffy moaned vociferously when she felt Spike’s tongue caress hers and smiled against his lips when he growled possessively. Soon she found herself needing oxygen, reluctantly pulling away from the kiss to gasp for air. Her eyes fluttered open again, gazing up into Spike’s lust filled baby blues. “Was that so bad?” he huskily mumbled.

Buffy groaned stubbornly. “You still have blood breath,” she obstinately retorted.

Before Spike could comment on how unconvincing her bellyaching was, Buffy’s lips were on his again, making him forget what he was about to say. Shrugging, he let the world fade away as he snogged with his Slayer. He never took advantage of these few genuine moments they had together. Who knew how long it would before it was going to be taken away from them? Who really knew how much longer they truly had?


********


On a transatlantic flight from London to Los Angeles, an anxious Englishman cradled his scotch, twirling the amber liquid around in the glass, still very much awake in a plane full of sleeping passengers. Giles’s hands trembled slightly as he took another drink, ignoring the book he had pulled out to read in the sparse light coming from above his seat, staring instead mindlessly out the small double sided window. There were no sites to be seen; only a vast black ocean below, partially hidden by the dark ominous clouds that hung loosely in the night’s sky. Giles couldn’t help but miserably smirk at the foreboding appearance of the outside world. It was actually quite fitting.

He was heading back to Sunnydale, with a few more Potentials in tow and hopefully with the perfect remedy to Spike’s trigger issue. Yet his main purpose for traveling across the pond had been to visit the coven, to see if they perhaps could tell him anything that might help them against the First. What he had discovered was more than what he had bargained for.

Two days ago Althenea had told him of one of her visions. Other than the expected insight that the First was gathering its forces and that a war was surely inevitable, she said Buffy would be consumed by a powerful force but there was one who would be her saving grace. The old yet powerful witch had informed him that a vampire with a soul would have a definitive role in their battle against the First. When the Watcher had asked her which one, she ambiguously responded by saying that she only knew it would be the one that Buffy truly loved. Althenea had also told him to beware of a man in black and to look beyond the exterior, for appearances were always deceiving. Giles had left with more questions than answers but he wouldn’t get anymore out of the coven. So he was stuck with what little information he had.

Fear gnawed at Giles’s insides, making him take another big gulp of his drink. The welcomed burning in his throat and the resulting slack in his regularly tense muscles made it a little easier to unwind, though it didn’t completely wipe away all of his dread. He needed to sleep. Tomorrow he’d be in Sunnydale and he would have to tell Buffy what he’d learned, or more like what he hadn’t learned.

Giles forlornly stared down at his empty glass. Pressing the button for the flight attendant to ask for another scotch, he went back to vacantly staring out the airplane window. The low buzzing noise of the engines and the lulling noises of soft snoring assisted his mind to wander to thoughts of sinister men dressed in black and to the vampires who supposedly loved his Slayer.


TBC


A/N:Hey everyone. I know I said I'd be updating more frequently but I have to admit that this story's been on the back burner for quite some time. Between work, writting my other fic Master and some serious writer's block, I was finding it very hard to get this story to progress in the direction I wanted it to. But fear no more. My muse has finally been resuscitated! Thnx for the reviews and for still reading. I definitely won't take so long to post the next update. Sorry again for the wait.



Chapter Eight: Lies Buffy Told Me

The loud bell rang, as was to be expected at 3 o’clock, sounding the release of all of Sunnydale High’s students from their mundane Monday afternoon classes. It was also the signal of Buffy’s freedom, giving her the cue to run out of the school’s main office like a bat out of hell. Strangely enough however, the quasi, not really qualified guidance counselor remained seated at her desk, staring at the closed wooden door that barred her out of the Principal’s Office.

Last night in the comforting arms of her vampire boyfriend, after spending a long and tiresome day training the Potentials with Spike, Buffy had decided that she would tell Wood about them. She had been debating the issue the whole weekend, but when it came down to it, her newest ally needed to know. Buffy felt she owed him that much. If Wood was going to risk his life to help them against the First, then he should know everything, and not just her current dating status. Wood needed to know about what had happened to her in that alternate dimension, along with the prophecy they had discovered. Buffy had partly omitted certain facts because she hadn’t wanted him to become even more worried about things he had absolutely no control over. To be honest, Buffy had also been still reeling from the whole experience and had wanted to keep thinking about the whole ‘possession’ ordeal to an absolute minimum. But now thanks to Spike, she had dealt with it, or at least felt comfortable enough to talk about it to someone outside her close knit group of friends.

Taking in a deep soothing breath, Buffy pushed herself up from her desk. Taking the first hesitant step toward the Principal’s office, Buffy’s uncertainty began to kick in. ‘What if he totally flips?’ she worried, coming to a complete halt outside his door.

Buffy had no doubt in her mind that the son of a slayer would be against her relationship with a vampire. She knew he disliked the fact that Spike was even fighting on their side. How was Wood going to react when she told him that not only was she dating Spike, but that the vampire was also prophesized to somehow help her against the First? Buffy began to fidget with her hands as her second thoughts augmented her nervousness.

Abruptly stomping her foot, the Slayer growled quietly. ‘Get a grip Buffy! You’ve faced off against a Hell god! You think you could handle telling someone outside of the Scoobies that you’re dating Spike!’

Squaring off her shoulders and raising her head high, Buffy was about to lift her hand to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open, revealing a startled Principal Wood.

“Buffy, you’re still here,” Robin remarked, slightly surprised by her presence. “I would’ve figured you left the second the bell rang.”

“Uh yeah, I actually have to talk to you about something,” she minimally replied. “You know, about my other job.”

Her cryptic response snapped him to full attention, completely understanding its real meaning. Smiling to the few remaining office employees as they waved their goodbyes, Principal Wood quickly ushered Buffy into his office.

“I hope everything is alright,” Wood said as he carefully closed the door.

“Apocalypse status still the same as it was yesterday,” Buffy quipped apprehensively before shrugging her shoulders. “Still pending.”

Robin exhaled, but not completely relieved. They were talking about the apocalypse after all. “So, what’s on your mind?” he asked outright, sitting on his desk as he awaited her news.

Buffy immediately broke out into a pace, anxiously walking back and forth in the limited space of the office. “Okay. So there’s this thing I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Buffy began, twisting her fingers together nervously.

“This sounds serious,” Wood stated, concern marring his brow.

“Yeah, kinda is. Ummm, remember the vision I had when I came out of that portal from that box in your mom’s slayer kit?” she tentatively asked though she already knew the answer.

“Sure. If I recall correctly you said it was like a scene out of the Lord of the Rings, but without the cute little hobbits,” he replied, an amused grin splayed across his lips.

A disgusted look instantaneously came over Buffy’s face. “I did?”

“Uh huh,” he assured.

The Slayer ceased her agitated pacing to look up at the ceiling, incredulously shaking her head. “I really gotta stop letting Andrew pick out the movies for movie night. Next thing you’ll know, I’ll be throwing around Griffindor and Ewok references like it’s completely part of normal human conversation,” Buffy self-deprecatingly remarked.

“Uhhh…Griffin-what?” Wood inquired; clearly unfamiliar with whatever it was she was referring to.

“Uggghhh. Nevermind,” Buffy said with a defeated groan as she rubbed her forehead. “The point I was trying to make was that the vision wasn’t the only thing to come out of my dimension hopping.”

Wood grew alarmed. “You mean something followed you here through the portal?” he asked with wide brown eyes.

The Slayer considered his question carefully. “I guess you could say that,” she replied slowly.

“What was it? Another demon?” he urged her to elaborate, getting the wrong idea of what Buffy was trying to tell him.

“You could say that too,” she answered cautiously.

Wood gave her a perplexed expression, quirking an eyebrow ever so slightly. “Okay, how about I just let you tell me what happened.”

Buffy nodded. “So when I went through the portal, I met the guys responsible for creating the Slayer. To make a long story short, these guys took one part human girl and one part ‘demon spirit’, mixed them together and presto! The First Slayer,” she quirkily explained.

“Demon spirit? The slayer is part demon?!” To say Wood was surprised would’ve been an understatement. His jaw nearly hit the floor at the unexpected news.

“You could look at it that way. The slayer powers that get passed down anyway have demon origins. That’s all we really know,” Buffy continued to enlighten, all the while knowing that her little confession was no way near close to being finished.

“Wow,” Robin uttered, still flabbergasted by the revelation. It made a lot of sense when you sat down and thought about it. How else could one lone girl face off against vampires if her strength didn’t equal, of even excel their own? The implications of this newly divulged information slowly materialized amongst Wood’s chaotic thoughts. Not only did this all mean Buffy was part demon, but that his own mother had been as well. The idea was unsettling, causing his dumbstruck gawk to transform into a disturbed grimace.

Buffy sighed audibly. “Yeah. It’s definitely a wow-worthy bulletin. But there’s more,” she solemnly stated, finally deciding to take a seat in one of the office’s chairs.

“Really? Just how much have you been keeping from me?” Wood wondered, his tone still predominantly stunned, however the tiniest underlying traces of resentment could easily be detected. ‘What else could she possibly tell me? Why was Buffy hiding this from me? Doesn’t she trust me?’

Buffy bowed her head, slightly ashamed with herself. She should have told Robin a lot sooner. He was obviously offended that she hadn’t. “Ummm, well, those shadow guys I was talking about, the ones I met in the other dimension, kinda decided it was time for a little reenactment. They…they…” Buffy struggled to finish the sentence. The whole experience had been very traumatic for her. Maybe she wasn’t as over it as she thought she was.

Wood let out a throaty gasp with a few ‘Oh my God’s swiftly muttered beneath his breath. “They did to you what they did to the First Slayer, didn’t they?” he inquired, the sympathy palpable in his voice.

“Yeah,” Buffy whispered, continuing to gaze down into her lap. “They choked me full of black ‘demon spirit’ mistiness.”

“Ar-are you alright?” Wood asked, his soulful brown eyes remaining transfixed upon her, partly out of concern, but also somewhat out of curiosity.

Buffy snorted lightly. “At first I wasn’t. I was majorly freaked and in total denial, but I got through it thanks to my friends,” she admitted while mentally adding, ‘but mostly thanks to Spike.’

Robin nodded understandingly but he was still plagued by a bunch of questions. “Do you feel any different? And why would they do such a thing? Does it involve the First?”

Buffy lifted her head up to look back at him. “I feel the exact same. And to answer your last two questions, yes it has to do with the First. They said I needed the extra strength if I’m going to go up against it,” she explained, watching his face warily to make sure he comprehended what she was saying. “The weird thing is that this demon power or whatever it is doesn’t get superpowery until some prophecy gets fulfilled.”

“Prophecy?” Just when Wood was beginning to think he had a good grasp on what was going on.

“Umm…yeah…it’s actually the reason I brought all this up. Well sort of,” Buffy replied, deciding to get up out of the chair, resuming her pace of the Principal’s office.

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything else that you could tell me that’ll shock me any more than I already am,” Wood remarked skeptically.

“After I got possessed, Willow found a prophecy that said I would eventually gain these extra powers after Spike kills some baddy so that I can wield some kinda weapon. Or so we think,” Buffy quickly uttered, still roaming around the room.

Wood’s jaw finally hit the floor. “I stand corrected,” he announced. Suddenly what she had actually said slowly sank in, bringing with it the instinctive feelings of hate. Spike. The name alone made him see red. He couldn’t possibly be the hero described in the prophecy. Buffy must have misinterpreted it.

Buffy noticed the angered look distorting Robin’s usually handsome features. “What’s wrong?” she wondered. ‘He can’t be mad yet. I haven’t even gotten to the dating Spike part.’

“Are you certain the prophecy named Spike specifically to help you against the First?” Wood inquired, his voice hoarse as he tried to contain his aversion to the Slayer’s open friendship with the vampire that killed his mother.

“It said precisely that a ‘lifeless life’ would kill some Big Bad. If that ain’t Spike then I don’t know who else it could be,” Buffy retorted, making a valid point.

“But Buffy, how can you possibly believe that a vampire would ever genuinely help out the good guys?” Robin asked, voicing his blatant doubt. ‘Especially a vampire with his past,’ the principal/demon hunter mentally inserted.

“For one thing, that vampire has been fighting on my side for the past three years. He’s even helped me save the world from an apocalypse,” the Slayer rebutted, suddenly becoming very defensive. “Spike’s changed. He’s not evil anymore. He’s loyal and caring, and he does so much and barely gets any recognition for it.”

As Buffy continued to defend Spike, Wood noticed the starry eyed, far away looks she was making, even if only for the slightest second. Growing uncomfortable with what her facial expressions possibly meant Robin shifted restlessly on the desktop as he shook his head. ‘There’s no way. Buffy’s way smarter than that,’ he internally disbelieved.

“Ummm…this isn’t really any of my business but…” he began to hesitate.

‘Oh crap! How’d he figure it out?!’ she inwardly squeaked. ‘I gotta be the one to tell him first. Or else he’s gonna think I wasn’t planning on telling him at all.’

“I’m dating Spike!”

Wood remained utterly gobsmacked. He hadn’t expected her to blurt it out like that. Robin was actually anticipating some form of denial as a response to his almost spoken question. Not a confirmation to actually having a romantic relationship with William the Bloody. He was beyond bewildered. He was beyond upset. There wasn’t a word in the English language to describe how he felt.

“Y-you’re kidding, right?” he stammered out, his face void of any emotion as he stared blankly at the petite blonde in the middle of the room.

Buffy slowly shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she solemnly affirmed.

“Buffy, he’s a vampire. How can you even consider being involved with him?” Wood wondered, gritting his teeth as he tried very hard not to sound condescending.

“Spike has a soul now,” she countered, happy to see that that bit of information had prompted him to thoughtfully pause, even if only for a short moment. Before Robin could respond, Buffy continued. “Spike and I have a history, and it’s totally messed up and more complicated than anyone will ever know. No one truly gets him but me. They’re all bent up on his chip getting removed and the whole trigger being still activated.”

“Chip?”

‘Really not helping out your cause here, Buffy,’ she internally scolded. Sighing loudly as she slumped her shoulders, the Slayer began to explain Spike’s history in Sunnydale. “A military ops group few years back put a behavioral modification microchip in his brain to stop him from hurting people.”

“And it’s gone!?!” Robin asked incredulously.

“It was malfunctioning. It had to be removed or it would have killed him,” Buffy told him, fully aware that she had omitted the fact that she also had had the option to repair the small defective piece of silicon in Spike’s head.

‘Pity,’ Wood thought as he readied to pose another question. “So if it’s gone, how can the trigger still be active?”

Buffy gave a curt nod, admitting that the whole thing was kind of complex. “The trigger’s actually a posthypnotic thing. The First put it in his head. It was... made him... He was killing again,” she reluctantly admitted.

“You mean now he’s killing uncontrollably and you’re still dating him?!” Wood pushed himself off the desk, walking closer to Buffy.

“Spike was, but he’s not anymore. I can’t explain it but the First has just stopped setting him off,” she responded, crossing her arms in a poignant gesture to say that he wasn’t going to get her to change her mind.

Wood couldn’t help but take her up on her silent challenge. “Buffy, how can you have him roam around the house with all those defenseless girls, let alone form some kind of relationship with that monst—”

The Slayer instantly cut him off. “He is not a monster,” she declared sternly. “Was maybe, but the present tense of that word cannot be used to describe Spike. Everything that had happened had been completely out of his control. We’re still trying to figure out a way to get rid of the First’s hold on him.”

Robin sighed at her stubbornness. “Buffy, I know you think you know him…”

“Look,” she interrupted him again, blatantly exasperated. “I thought I should tell you since it’s only fair that you know what you’re getting yourself into. I value your friendship and we need everyone we can get in this fight but I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Spike is not up for debate and that’s final.”

Wood immediately disregarded her resolute mindset. “Buffy, you don’t know everything he’s done. How can you just turn a blind eye?” he pushed.

Buffy squinted her eyes in aggravation. “Even before the soul, Spike has been fighting by my side. No one knows him, gets him, like I do. I admit I don’t know every single detail of his sordid past, but I do know of the sins he’s committed against me. And those were absolutely kyboshed the second Spike went out and willingly got his soul back. The trigger might still be working but we need him. Besides me, he’s the strongest fighter we have!” she informed Robin, her voice becoming increasingly higher. “The prophecy says he’s gonna do right by us. We need him. I need him. And that’s—”

“He killed my mother.”

The slapping sound of Buffy’s mouth instantly shutting echoed throughout the room. ‘I guess I’m not the only one who can blurt out secrets.’ She eyed Wood wearily. She would have expected a smug smirk plastered on his face but instead he just appeared outright devastated.

“He what?” she whispered softly.

“Spike is the vampire that killed my mother,” Wood reiterated, his mournful gaze locking with Buffy’s.

“Oh my God,” she gasped silently, covering her mouth with her hands. It all made sense now. The unexplainable hostility Robin exhibited whenever Spike was around or even simply mentioned. Buffy had chalked it up to general vampire mistrust and hate since his mother had been killed by one. She would have never guessed in a million years that Spike’s second slayer had been Robin’s mother. ‘Oh my God.’

Wood gently sneered at her reaction. “You still so sure of him now?”

Buffy adamantly shook her head. “He’s not the same vampire that did that.”

“Doesn’t wash blood off his hands though,” Robin quickly shot back.

Buffy didn’t know what else to say. She just remained staring at him, torn between feeling sorry for the man standing before her and threatening to hurt him six ways from Sunday if he even so much as considered touching a single hair on her boyfriend’s platinum head. Buffy also knew that if she said anything else, she might completely sway him from helping her out. As conflicted as she was about Mr. Robin Wood, the Slayer needed him on her side.

Wood didn’t avert his eyes from Buffy’s obstinate gaze. The Slayer was clearly being manipulated by Spike. There was no doubt in his mind. The vampire was a ticking time bomb, and she was too blind sighted by her feelings to come to terms with the consequences of what she was doing.

However, Spike’s involvement in the prophecy was a little too difficult to disregard. Maybe Buffy had made the whole thing up to protect Spike? Wood mentally discounted the notion. He knew that Buffy could never be that deceitful. What if Spike had reformed and was now, dare he say it, truly a champion of good? Robin’s plans for revenge were slowly beginning to quell. Not only did Buffy’s announcement set off his misgivings about the infamous vampire, but the fact that she was dating Spike made Wood think that the small, yet incredibly strong woman before him would probably exact some vengeance of her own if he ever tried to kill her undead boyfriend. Wood hated to admit it, but he was torn.

“So,” Buffy said, deciding to break the uncomfortable silence. “Where’s that leave us now?”

Wood smiled at her frankness. “The First Evil still trying to destroy the world?” he good naturedly asked.

“Yup,” she replied gleefully, her spirits suddenly brightened by his jovial manner.

“Then count me in,” he told her. He wasn’t about to ditch Buffy in her biggest moment of need. It wasn’t to say that his decision was entirely selfless. Allying himself with the Slayer allowed him access to the inner sanctum and her closest confidents, including Spike. What better way to keep an eye on him than to join Buffy. He would know the instant the vampire crossed the line, and Wood would be there, stake in hand.

Satisfied with his response, Buffy walked toward the door, ready to leave. She paused when Robin called after her. “Oh and Buffy? Just don’t leave me in a room alone with him. I can’t make any promises if you do,” he seriously told her as he sat back behind his desk.

Buffy understandingly nodded in silence. She waved goodbye before heading out the door, feeling a wash of relief flow over her as she eagerly scurried out of the hallway, suddenly compelled to see Spike again.

Back in his office, Wood stared at the door Buffy had just exited, their conversation still fresh in his mind. He had meant what he’d said. The moment he found the opportunity to be alone with the vampire; Robin wouldn’t be able to stop himself from avenging his mother. That much he was certain.


TBC

A/N: Thnx again Darkezza. You're the best!





A/N: Hey guys. Sorry it took so long but here's the next chap. Hope you enjoy!



Chapter Nine: The Last to Know


Buffy trudged up the front steps to her house, exhausted and somewhat shaken from the conversation she just had with Wood. On her short walk home Buffy had involuntarily dwelled upon what the young Principal had said. Sure, she knew Spike was a vampire and with that came a history of violence and bloodshed. She knew he had killed two slayers and she had known Robin’s mother had been a slayer. Why the hell had she never put two and two together?

Buffy groaned as she reached her front door, placing a hand tentatively on the big brass doorknob. Wood’s bewildered reactions to her announcement about having a relationship with Spike had also plagued her thoughts. Was she being careless with Spike? Was he still a danger? Buffy shook her head. She couldn’t start doubting him now. When it came down to it, Buffy was probably the only person who really believed in him. She could never abandon the faith she had in Spike. She just couldn’t do that to him.

Buffy pushed the door open and suddenly found herself in the midst of the house’s daily training routine. A large group of SITs were sitting in the living room, attentively listening to Anya ramble on about vampires and Turok Hans. Luckily for Buffy, no one heard her come in. She watched them for a minute, seeing Dawn at Anya’s side, drawing diagrams on a large dry erase board. The Slayer couldn’t help but note the look of concentration on her little sister’s face. With her super slayer stealth, Buffy headed across the foyer toward the stairs.

“Now, another thing you gotta consider is vampire stamina,” Buffy heard Anya state as she gradually made her way upstairs. “In hand-to-hand combat they can fight for hours and never get tired. As a matter of fact, it’s what makes them excellent lovers. I’m talking hours of sex here people.” The last remark made Buffy stumble a bit.

“Uhh, Anya? I don’t think they wanna know about sleeping with vampires,” Dawn shyly advised, not surprised but still uneasy about having to be the one to censor the forthright ex-demon.

“Why not? It’s vital information,” Anya adamantly countered.

“Yeah, if humping vampires turned them to dust,” one of the girls joked, eliciting a few snorts and giggles from her peers.

Clearly misreading the comment, Anya gave her straight-faced, overly perky response. “No. No it doesn’t. But it might disorient them long enough for you to land a stake in their chest.”

A burst of laughter suddenly resonated throughout the house from the living room. As Buffy reached the top of the stairs, all she could hear amongst the giggling was Anya repeatedly asking “What? What did I say?”

The Slayer let out a few chuckles of her own. She was going to have to definitely talk to Anya about what was and what wasn’t appropriate when it came to teaching the young impressionable minds of the Potentials. She so didn’t want them to start getting any wrong ideas about vamps. The thought of the girls ogling and drooling over Spike suddenly jumped into her head. Buffy was without a doubt going to have to talk to Anya.

Making her was through the surprisingly clean upstairs hallway, Buffy opened the door to her room. All she wanted to do was get out of her work clothes and find Spike. She smiled. She could hear him shouting out orders through the open windows of the house. ‘Guess he’s training the other half of the troops in the backyard,’ Buffy surmised as she made a b-line for her closet. Pulling out a pair of well worn jeans and a comfy maroon tee, Buffy quickly changed.

Turning around, she gasped when her eyes settled upon the room. It was spotless. The clothes that had once littered the floor were gone. The notebooks Spike had been using to keep track of the girls’ progress were no longer scattered across her room. Instead they were in a neat pile by the nightstand. Buffy disbelievingly approached the bed, which was actually made! She couldn’t believe how excited she was getting about a clean room. Boy, did she ever need to get a life.

On her pillow lay a single, yellow flower, one she recognized from the garden in the backyard. A smile spread across her face as she brought the soft petals to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent. Glancing back down, she caught sight of a note. Eagerly picking it up, Buffy read the words scrawled on the small piece of paper.


I figured since I’m spending my nights in here with you and all, I should probably lend a hand with the keep up. Now hurry up and come give me a kiss hello.


Love, Spike


How was it that whenever she started to doubt herself, in whatever she was doing, Spike would always come through with the little gestures? Staring down at the saffron flower in her hand, Buffy’s uncertainties began to vanish. No matter what happened Spike would be there for her. And that was all she needed to know.





********



As Buffy made her way back downstairs, she realized that the two groups were taking their daily thirty minute break before the switch happened. Girls filed in and out of the living room, crowding the downstairs level of the house. Idle chatter reached Buffy’s ears as she surfed through the throng of teenage girls, trying to make her way down the hall. Squeezing herself past a few more SITs, she finally entered the kitchen.

At the same moment, Kennedy and Andrew emerged from the backyard. Both were staring at the tiny screen on Andrew’s handheld camcorder.

“I think they’re starting to get it,” Kennedy stated as she gave the replay one last glimpse.

“I know. They’re all like mini-Buffy’s, except you know, without the super powers,” Andrew replied before an enthralled expression materialized on his face. “Spike’s a pretty good leader too. Kinda like Aragorn, reluctantly leading his wary and broken fellowship against the evil forces of Lord Sauron.”

Kennedy stared incredulously at the starry eyed geek. “Yeah, sure Andrew. Whatever you say.” And with that, the brunette hurriedly marched out of the kitchen, trying to find someone actually sane to talk to. She nodded a ‘hello’ to Buffy before passing her by.

The Slayer returned the greeting before heading to the back door. “Hey Andrew. Is Spike back there?” she asked the distracted ex-Trio member. A barely discernible affirmative mumble was his only response. With a shrug, Buffy made her way outside.

Spike was leaning against the house’s rear brick wall, completely protected from the sun’s deathly rays. Smoke danced in the air above his head from the lit cigarette dangling between his lips. Spotting Buffy, he prematurely finished off the smoke, stomping out the barely burned up cig. Grinning from ear to ear, he sauntered over to her, taking her small hands in his. “Got my note?”

Buffy hesitantly nodded. “Yeah and you’re sweet but there’s no way I’m kissing you.”

“What? Why the bloody hell not?”

Buffy giggled, watching him get flustered. “You know you’re real cute when you get all huffy. But I’m still not kissing you. Especially not after you’ve been suckin’ on those cancer sticks. You’re all stinky,” she pointed out with a pout.

“First of all, I am not cute,” Spike announced indignantly. “Secondly, what’s with the bleedin’ fascination with my breath? Kinda shallow, don’t ya think pet?” he seductively wondered, edging his way closer to Buffy.

“Hey! You better stay back, Mister! I’m warning you,” Buffy half-heartedly resisted as she playfully backed away.

“C’mon luv. Just a quick peck. S’all I ask,” Spike pleaded, giving her his most devilish smirk. “Don’t make me tickle you again.”

Buffy snatched her hands from out of his grasp. “Try it and I’ll toss you into the sun,” Buffy gave out one of her own threats.

Spike remained unfazed. “You wouldn’t want to do that now,” he cautioned as he swiftly grabbed her by the waist, yanking her to him.

Buffy remained outwardly stubborn, though inwardly, she had already caved. “Oh yeah? Why not?”

“‘Cos big ole piles of dust can’t do this,” Spike huskily whispered before pressing his lips against hers.

Buffy instantly surrendered to the kiss, finding that she needed some kind of physical confirmation that she wasn’t being reckless, that she wasn’t abandoning her duties as the Slayer by having feelings for Spike. The gentle caress of their lips soon turned firm and demanding. Buffy opened her mouth, pushing her tongue against his. Spike groaned, loving it when she took control. They fervidly continued to kiss until Buffy pulled up for air, nearly hyperventilating from lack of oxygen as she rested her forehead against his.

Spike was seeing a few stars himself. It had been a while since their embraces had ever been that fervent. It wasn’t to say that the fire was gone. On the contrary, it was still there, beneath the surface, as hot as it had ever been; just it was no longer an all consuming wildfire, decimating everything in its path. What had Spike slightly irked was that the kind of kiss they had just shared wasn’t very different from those Buffy used to bestow upon him as a means to escape. The kind that had initiated the torrid love affair that, much like a blazing inferno, had nearly destroyed them until there had barely been anything left. Spike pulled away to gaze down into her eyes, releasing the breath he didn’t know he had been holding when he saw her staring back up at him with nothing but warm adoration. There wasn’t a single trace of the cold, emotionless void that had once haunted the hazel depths of her eyes. To say Spike was relieved would have been an understatement. Buffy wasn’t trying to forget. He grinned as he ran the back of his hand over her flushed cheek. ‘Slayer’s just a bit randy, is all.’

“So, pet, how was your day?” Spike asked as he took in a deep, unnecessary pull of air, figuring casual conversation might get his excited mind off thoughts of ‘Randy Buffy’. The Slayer immediately started talking about her day, purposefully omitting her little encounter with Principal Wood only an hour ago. The topic of discussion eventually steered to that of training SITs and the other subdued chitchat they usually exchanged everyday after Buffy arrived home from work. Walking hand in hand, they went back inside, finding Dawn and Andrew hanging about the kitchen. Andrew was still immersed in his little clip show while Buffy’s little sister scurried around, preparing herself a snack.

“Hey Buffy. We’re out of milk,” Dawn greeted her sister, shaking the empty milk carton in her hand.

“Hi Dawn. It’s nice to see you too. Why, yes, I had a great day. Thanks for asking,” Buffy replied, her deceitfully cheerful voice laced with sarcasm.

“Yeah, whatever. Still low on milk here,” Dawn declared unapologetically.

Buffy scanned the kitchen. “Isn’t it Willow’s turn to do groceries?” She couldn’t remember seeing the redheaded witch since she had walked into the house. “Where is Will?”

Andrew chose at that moment to pipe up, taking his attention off of the small digital screen of the video camera. “Some Fred guy called from L.A. Willow said she had to go but shouldn’t be gone for too long,” he informed the group, appearing a little concerned. “You don’t think she’s cheating on Kennedy with this guy? He did sound kinda effeminate. Maybe…”

Spike quickly cut him off. “Maybe you should shut your gob.”

Andrew gulped at the vampire’s unimpressed glare and nodded as he retreated back to his video watching.

Buffy remained silent. What was so dire that Willow had to leave the Hellmouth to go to L.A.? She knew it had something to do with Angel. Was he in trouble? And if he was, why hadn’t he asked her for help instead of Willow’s? Buffy didn’t like all these dealings going on behind her back. It made her feel like she didn’t have any control, which terrified her.

Sensing her uneasiness, Spike gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Bet it’s nothin’ to worry ‘bout, pet,” he reassured but not without adding, “Reckon Peaches just needed to borrow Red for a little soul cleansing meditation. ‘Probly cross-legged and chanting as we speak.”

The vampire’s lighthearted insults didn’t get past Buffy, who was trying to give him a reprimanding scowl. It didn’t work though and soon a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

It wasn’t a secret that Spike had never really liked his Grandsire or that he hated the fact that the older vamp had been the first to claim Buffy’s heart. Yet what bothered him the most was that the instant Andrew had mentioned L.A., Buffy instinctively thought of the poofter. Angel already had what Spike so desperately craved— Buffy’s love. Was she ever going to let him in?

The sound of a few soft chuckles escaping her lips eased some of Spike’s worries. If Buffy could at least laugh at Captain Forehead and not get all defensive then maybe there was a real chance, maybe he wasn’t just grasping at straws. Maybe.

Spike’s inner musings were interrupted by Anya’s unexpected appearance as she noisily stormed into the kitchen, taking a seat at the breakfast nook. “Really, how difficult is it to understand how to kill Gnarok demons?! I swear, if I have repeat decapitation with castration one more time I think I just might disembowel one of the little slayerettes myself!” she vented, clearly frustrated.

“Uh…Why are you even giving instructions on Gnarok demons anyway?” Buffy inquired suspiciously. “Wasn’t the point of these little lessons for you to teach them about the First and vamps?”

Anya shook her head dismissively. “You never know what these girls might have to face one of these days. Plus, teaching them only vampire demonology would be like having a world history class and only discussing the last two hundred years. I think it’s a very limited view of the demon existence. Good thing I’m human again because I would’ve been very offended.”

Buffy’s unconvinced expression didn’t falter one bit throughout Anya’s spcheel. “Just make sure they know everything we do about the First, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Again my effort goes unappreciated,” the ex-demon complained.

“Okay Anya,” Buffy snapped back. “Since I’m so inconsiderate, why don’t you take the night off?”

Anya let out an unfeminine snort. “And who’s gonna take over demon lessons for the next batch of Potentials?”

Buffy glanced over to her sister. “Dawn will.”

The girl in question was beyond shocked, her crystal blue eyes wide with astonishment. “Mmmuuhhh?!” Dawn asked with a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly, pointing to herself disbelievingly.

The Slayer nodded. “Sure, why not? You’ve been helping Anya out and you’re like mini-Giles with all the research, so it only makes sense.” Not wanting to pressure her sister, Buffy also added, “Only if it’s okay with you, that is.”

Taking a sip from her half-filled glass of milk, Dawn swallowed what she had been chewing. “That’s so okay!” she cheered enthusiastically. Resisting the urge squeal, Dawn calmed herself down. “You’re really gonna let me help out?”

“Yup,” Buffy determinedly replied. “You are now licensed to order SITs around.”

Dawn ran to her sister and hugged her. “You’re the best,” she whispered before scurrying off to the living room to prep for her debut as official demonology instructor, yelling back at Andrew to help her set up. Looking up from his camcorder, the boy jumped to the occasion, almost skipping out of the kitchen.

“I think you’ve created a monster,” Anya quipped as she watched Dawn excitedly putter around the living room.

“I still have time to change my mind,” Buffy shot back.

“Did I say monster?! What I meant to say was—Oh whatever! I’ll be in the tub,” Anya announced as she got off the kitchen stool, going upstairs to enjoy an evening soak.

Spike chuckled as he pulled Buffy into his arms. “Was a good thing you just did for her, luv.”

Buffy stared up at him confused. “What, Anya? She’s been getting on my nerves all week.”

The vampire shook his head. “No. For Dawn. Keep gettin’ the feeling that the Nibblet feels a lil’ left out amongst all this hustle and bustle.”

“I know,” Buffy lamented. “I’ve sensed it too but she still has school and homework and I never wanted her wrapped up in any of this in the first place. God, when I was her age I would’ve given anything just to be normal. Instead Dawn’s begging to join the wacky apocalyptic fun.” Buffy sighed as she placed her head on Spike’s chest. “So I figure if she’s doing the safe book stuff, she can help me out. We could even be a team. The Summers Sisters’ Slayer Brigade. What do you think?”

Tipping her chin up with his finger, Spike locked his gaze with hers. There was a playful mirth dancing in his cerulean eyes. “I think you’re a wonderful sister.”

The concern marring her brow disappeared as a smile reappeared on her lips. “Sucking up will get you everywhere,” Buffy quipped before planting a sweet kiss on Spike’s lips. ‘Mmmmm. Spike lips. Lips of Spike.’

Dawn’s unexpected announcement ended their short blissful break from reality. “Buffy! Giles is back!”

Buffy grudgingly pulled out of Spike’s embrace, giving him a remorseful look before heading out of the kitchen. Potentials were moving toward their designated spots, indication that recess was clearly over. Spike greeted his new group as they made their way past him to the backyard, ordering them to do a few laps around the house to warm up. He didn’t want to go outside just yet.

Giles glanced around him, not believing this was the same house he had left weeks ago. To begin with, the place itself looked immaculately clean. There weren’t any girls lofting about and the strangest of all was that the hum of incessant chatter was gone. Walking further into the house, the Watcher spotted a group of Potentials sitting in the living room, alertly paying attention to Dawn as she seemed to be giving some sort of lecture on vampires. ‘Since when had she become an authority on vampires?’ and ‘Where were the rest of the girls?’ he wondered, automatically searching for Buffy. Dawn did his work for him by calling on her sister after she had spotted him standing dumbfounded in the hallway.

“Giles! You’re back,” his Slayer happily called out as she made her way to him from the kitchen. “Wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” She peeked behind his back and saw two, very intimidated girls. “And with more Potentials.”

“Ah, yes. These girls were discovered by the coven while I was in England. This is Emma and Jem,” Giles introduced, still distracted by the drastic change in the Summers’ home. The two girls timidly waved at the Slayer.

The back of Buffy’s neck tingled, making her turn around. Spike was standing a few feet behind her. She was relieved he hadn’t gone out to train the SITs just yet, but was unsettled by the inexplicably somber disposition he suddenly appeared to be in. Unable to ask the vampire what was wrong, Buffy pushed the issue aside and asked “Spike, can you show the girls where they can put their stuff?”

Spike’s somberness turned into an offended grimace, his jaw clenching as his lips straightened into a thin line. “Sure thing, luv,” he grounded out as he gestured to the newbies to follow him up the stairs.

Oblivious to the vampire’s mood swing, Buffy gave her old Watcher a hug. Taking a step back, she looked at him sympathetically. “You look beat. You want some tea or something?”

Giles gave her a warm smile. “That would be lovely.” He followed her into the kitchen where she poured him a cup of Earl Grey. A really cold and bitter cup of Earl Grey.

Catching the face he made, Buffy shrugged meekly. “Sorry. I thought it was a fresh pot.”

“It’s alright,” Giles casually waved off.

Spike returned, still stone faced with the morbidly silent teenage girls trailing behind him. Buffy mouthed a ‘thank you’ to the grumpy vampire before taking the girls into the living room. Finishing off the introductions, Buffy tried to get the new Potentials comfortable. “Why don’t you guys join Dawn’s powwow. You can start training with Spike tomorrow,” Buffy suggested. Emma and Jem joined the group, their shyness slowly abating as they mingled with other girls their own age.

Getting back to Giles, Buffy found him standing beneath the archway leading to the front hall, curiously watching her little sister, pride twinkling in his eyes. “You wanna go for a walk?” she whispered to him over his shoulder as to not interrupt Dawn’s lecture.

The Watcher nodded as he proceeded to the front door, knowing there were more than a few things that needed to be discussed with his Slayer. He paused when he noticed she wasn’t behind him anymore.

“Just give me a sec, Giles,” she quietly requested as she scampered off to the kitchen.

Spike was where she had left him, his miserable glower gone, replaced instead with stoic indifference. Grabbing her coat from the back of one of the barstools, Buffy put it on as she started to relay her plans to Spike. “I’m gonna do some catching up with Giles. I’ll be back soon.”

He only nodded. Moving in to give her a kiss, Spike was startled when Buffy placed a quick peck on his cheek. Glancing around to make sure certain uninformed individuals hadn’t seen, she bolted down the hall and out the door with Giles, leaving Spike alone to only fear the worst.




********



After a few blocks in comfortable silence, Buffy finally spoke up. “You know we don’t actually have to walk around if you’re tired.”

“I’m fine. Nothing like some fresh air to ease my jetlag,” Giles assured. “So, I see that some changes have been made since I’ve been away.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Buffy sardonically replied.

“Care to elaborate?” Giles asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Short version goes along the lines of I went through some portal that we found in a slayer emergency kit and got possessed by demon slayer-making mist. We then found some cryptic prophecy about it that we think says Spike will kill some Tainted Guy and it will make my spirit awaken, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Since then we’ve been training the Potentials nonstop. Well actually Spike’s done most of the training, but it’s been completely under my supervision,” Buffy finished her anxious rant.

Absolutely worried, Giles came to a halt, inspecting Buffy, trying to find evidence of what she had been through. “God Lord Buffy. Are you alright? The possession, it didn’t—?”

“I’m fine, Giles. You can breathe now,” Buffy good-humoredly reassured her pseudo father.

Yanking the specs from right off his face, Giles vigorously wiped his glasses. Now that he knew Buffy was safe or at least seemingly so, another part of her story troubled him. Spike. His involvement in the latest prophecy the Scoobies had discovered was eerily coincidental to what Althenea had told him. A vampire with a soul, one who Buffy truly loved, would have a hand in defeating the First. It not only meant that Spike’s involvement was a crucial factor in this war but that Buffy loved the vampire. Or would come to love him in the near future. Giles wasn’t completely surprised by the notion, he just wasn’t sure if he was that comfortable with it.

“The coven said that the First was gathering its forces,” Giles started, getting to real reason behind his trip overseas.

“That explains why it hasn’t shown its ugly face in a while,” Buffy cut in.

“It was not the only thing I learned from Althenea. She mentioned that we must be wary of a man in black,” he continued, waiting for Buffy’s response.

“Well the only guy who wears black around here is Spike, but you can’t really label him as a ‘man’ since he’s technically a vampire,” she rationalized.

“We simply cannot dismiss the possibility she was referring to Spike,” Giles deceivingly insisted. He wanted to see for himself what his slayer felt for the vampire, even if it meant editing out what he already knew, or at least suspected.

“Please, don’t start ragging on me about Spike,” Buffy pleaded as she clutched her brow. “He’s done more in this fight than anyone else. If it wasn’t for him none of the girls would know a jab from a right hook and I would probably still be a pulling at my hair, trying to figure out how to deal with a house full of scared teenage girls. You once said that I depend on him and I recognize that I do, but it’s only because I trust him. I trust him with my life, Giles,” her voice reached a desperate tone as she concluded her intense tirade.

“Are you in love with him, Buffy?”

The question came out of nowhere and nearly knocked her off her feet. “What?!?! No!” she automatically answered, but knew it was far from the truth. “I mean…I dunno. Is it like written on my forehead or something?” she asked, almost sounding like Dawn during her whiny pre-teen phase.

Finding themselves in the park, Giles directed them to an empty bench. “Buffy, in clear spoken English, what is your relationship with William the Bloody?”

Fidgeting nervously with her hands, the Slayer stared down at her lap. “We’re kinda going steady.”

Hearing only silence, Buffy peeked up at Giles who wasn’t even looking at her but staring out into space with an extremely contemplative expression on his face. “Uh, Giles, it’s your cue to freak out and tell me how I’m screwing everything up.”

“I’ve already told you my misgivings concerning Spike,” the Watcher calmly began, still staring at nothing. Turning to face Buffy, he took her hands in his. “Obviously you haven’t headed them. However, you are an adult now Buffy and it is your right to choose how you want to lead your life. So long as you know what you’re doing, I really have no choice but to accept it.”

“I don’t,” Buffy whispered.

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she pointed out. “I’m so confused and I’m way in over my head. I don’t even know if everything I’ve done, that we’ve done, to prepare for what’s coming will even make a difference. My house is a hormonal ticking time bomb, I still have to play mom for Dawn, and the school’s new principal and my boss is actually a demon hunter with some personal vendetta against my boyfriend. I still have got no clue what this demon stuff that got sucked into my body is going to do to me and if it’ll even help us in this fight,” Buffy declared, releasing a shaky sigh. “And then there’s Spike…”

“Whatever happens, Buffy, I am here for you. You might not have faced this kind of adversity before, but that has never stopped you,” Giles comforted, trying to instill some much needed confidence in his slayer.

“So you’re really okay with this whole Spike thing?” she asked, nibbling on her bottom lip.

Giles heavily exhaled. “Just tell me you’re going about this relationship in a more…how should put it?…reserved manner than the first time around?”

“I’m not sleeping with him Giles,” Buffy told him, unashamed.

“Thank God!” he exclaimed under his breath.

Getting up from the park bench, the duo quietly made their way back to 1630 Revello Drive. Spotting her house, it was Buffy again who broke the silence. “Well that was easier than I thought it’d be,” she contentedly remarked.

Walking up the front steps, Giles stopped just short of reaching the door. “And I think I’ve found a way of making things even easier.”

Buffy watched as the Watcher pulled out a small box from his coat pocket. “What’s that?”

“The trick to de-triggering Spike.”


A/N: Thnx Darkezza. You rock!