Spike followed behind the foursome, keeping to the shadows as only a vampire knows how, listening to their conversation. Well, he was trying to listen to them, but he was distracted by the way Buffy's hips moved as she walked in the tight, black catsuit she was wearing. It was almost getting too painful to keep up, his erection straining against his zipper. He'd put up with over two hours of her dancing seductively around him, rubbing against his body as much as possible at the Bronze's New Year's Eve party, and all he had wanted to do was get her back to his lair and slam into her repeatedly until she blacked out from the pleasure. Instead, here he was, creeping along behind the two Slayers and friends as they went to the high school to prevent whatever new crisis beheld the residents of Sunnydale. Unlife sucked.

With his keen vision, he saw several vampires silently stalking beside the group, but the moment they caught sight of Buffy, they turned and ran in the other direction like sissies. He chuckled when the latest one to run tripped and staked himself on a rod that held a flower aloft. There'd yet to be any real challenge to his claim on her, or to the fact that he was back in Sunnydale after those first eight before Christmas. He wondered if Trick was planning something, or simply didn't care anymore since Spike was not vying for power over the Hellmouth territory.

When he brought his thoughts back to his surroundings and away from the Slayer's rear, he realized they'd reached the high school. Quietly, he crept to the back of the school, slipping down a manhole to enter the library through the back way. Silently, he made his way into the stacks to position himself where he could see and hear everything. And keep an eye on his mate. A very horny eye.

"Giles? We're here!" Buffy called out as the four friends entered the library. The ever present tweed clad Watcher came out of his office. "What's the big ta-do that pulled us here twenty minutes after New Year's?"

Giles stared at the blond Slayer for a moment, taking in her skin tight body suit with wide, silver chain belt, anklet twinkling merrily under the florescent library lights. He shook his head, removing his glasses in nervousness at the beauty of his ward. "I…er, there is-is someone I need you to…to meet." He turned back to the office door. "James, if you please."

Seeing Buffy sitting on Spike's lap at the Bronze was nothing compared to the ghost who entered the room. Dressed in clothing out of the 1920s, the semi-transparent man was a few inches over six feet tall, well built, with dark eyes and dark hair that flopped over his left eye, giving him a boyish look. When he grinned at their obviously startled reaction, perfect white teeth slashed across pale, well-defined lips, his eyes crinkling in laughter.

"J-James, I'd like you to meet Buffy, Faith, Xander and Willow," Giles introduced to the ghost. "Children, meet James Clark."

"Of the O'Banion gang?" Willow asked, her eyes wide.

James blinked in surprise. "One in the same," he replied.

She made a sound that could only be described as geeker joy and began speaking rapidly. "What really happened that night? I mean, how could seven of you all be shot in the back by a Capone's men? Or didn't you know they were playing for the other team? And did it hurt? Getting shot I mean. Oz was shot once, but in the arm, and he said it was pretty painful, but it must have been much worse for you. You died. Oh! You're dead! You're…you're a ghost! We haven't had any ghosts yet, have we, Giles?"

The four humans, one ghost and one vampire hidden in the stacks all stared at the red head.

"That was a bit…much, wasn't it?" Willow said, blushing a nice hue of pink.

"I take it you, uh, know James' his-history?" Giles asked her. She nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the ghost like he was a new paranormal Internet address.

"For the rest of us who are standing in this room going 'huh,' care to clue us in?" Buffy said, hopping up on the check out counter. Faith joined her while Xander and Willow moved to the large oak table that had assisted them in many a nights research. Nothing better than a good hunk of wood to aid the Slayer.

"Buffy, James Clark was a member of the O'Banion gang which later became 'Bugs' Moran's gang, back in the 1920s during the time of Prohibition," Willow replied, cutting the ghost off when he opened his mouth to explain. He shot Giles an amused glance, who returned it in full. "Al Capone was 'Bugs' Moran's rival, and on February 14, 1929, seven men were assassinated in a garage at 2122 North Clark Street in Chicago - James Clark, Adam Meyer, John May, Al Weinshank, Frank Gusenburg and his brother Pete and Dr. Reinhardt Schwimmer, who was an optometrist…I wonder why he was there?"

"Uh, Wills?" Xander said. "As much as you like sounding like the G-man, I think the rest of us are still at the starting line."

"Oh, sorry," the hacker said. "Mr. Clark was one of the casualties of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre." Lights went on behind the teens eyes as they infamous murder was forced from the depths of their minds to the foreground after being repressed as most history lessons are.

"Um, wow," Buffy said, staring over at the ghost. "You're not here to get revenge, are you? 'Cuz if you are, you're a few thousand miles off course. Chicago's way east of here."

"No, I'm not here to get revenge," James replied with a small smile. "I'm here to put a nix on a reenactment."

"Ok, now I'm totally lost," she said, cocking her head when she heard what sounded like a muffled laugh coming from the stacks. She frowned for a moment, the shook her head as James began to speak again.

"Here's the skinny," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. Willow made a funny noise when she thought he was going to fall through it, remembering her time as a ghost two Halloweens ago. "In 1929, I was bopped in a daisy way - being drilled in the back of the noodle. Since then, for some reason, I'm around from January first until February 15th in Chicago to stop the same thing from happening again, only involving innocent bystanders rather than members of the mob. So far, it hasn't. I've usually been able to scare the chopper squad into stopping with the help of Cracker and Johnny."

"Then what's different about this year? And why are you in Sunnydale instead of Chicago?" Willow asked.

"Vampires," he responded. "They're planning the hit this time around, and as you know, they ain't got a lot upstairs and you can't twist the screws with them. As for why here…"

"Because of the Hellmouth," Buffy finished for him. She shook her head and sighed. "I told my mom moving to Sunnydale wasn't a good idea. But would she listen, nooo."

"So we go out and slay. What's the big whoop?" Faith said, speaking up for the first time.

"The big, er, whoop as you put it that we don't know who they are, let alone who the, uh, in-intended victims are," Giles replied.

"I vote Trick," Buffy said. "He's the head poobah right now."

"If he's the high pillow, then he'll stay hidden," James pointed out. "It's the knock off I have to kibosh, not the money grubbers behind the scenes."

"Then we beat some ass," Faith said. "Get a little info before we slay. Or maybe you can ask your stud, B, see if he can open some windows."

"Faith," Buffy hissed as Giles shot her a puzzled look.

"Stud?" he asked.

"Buffy went and hooked up with Spi-." A hand clamped over Xander's mouth before he could finish. He turned his head to Willow's furious gaze and shake of her head.

"I'll tell you later, Giles," Buffy said quickly, hopping off the counter. "But right now, since there isn't anything we can do, I'm gone."

"But, Buffy, we should…"

"No, Giles, we shouldn't. It's still technically New Year's Eve, and I for one want to finish celebrating," she said.

"B got all dressed up with someone to blow," Faith added. Buffy's combination of murderous glare and blush sent the other Slayer into stitches and she heard an answering low chuckle sound from the stacks. "Speakin' of jobs, sounds like a certain sucker is listening in," she said between laughs, gesturing to the second floor of the library with her head.

Buffy's eyes widened when she caught on with what Faith had just said, then she turned on her heel and sprinted up into the stacks. Willow, Xander, Giles and James all watched after the blond as she disappeared from sight. They heard a loud yelp, followed by a semi-loud tirade from the Slayer.

"Ut-oh," Willow said. "I think somebody's getting their ear chewed off."

"If he doesn't bite her first," Xander said angrily. "I had to say this, but I miss Deadboy. At least I knew with him around there wasn't going to be any more play."

Giles was about to ask what Xander meant when an irate Slayer stomped out of the stacks, pulling Spike by a death grip on his ear. "Giles, I'm leaving. See you tomorrow," Buffy ground out as she yanked the peroxide blond vampire behind her out the swinging doors.

Giles removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, then replaced them, all the while watching the door. "Did um…did I just see Spike?"

Willow was the first to giggle, followed shortly by Faith, then Xander. James shrugged at the Watcher, his own eyes sparkling with the knowledge of what Buffy was going to do to Spike. With a loud sigh, Giles went into his office to start a pot of tea. He had a feeling his Slayer had gone and gotten herself involved with another vampire. In more ways than one.

Part Two

Buffy opened the first door she came to, breaking the lock with her furious twist. Angrily, she practically threw Spike inside, slamming the door behind her. "I cannot believe you followed me! Spying on me!"

"Pet…"

"It could have been something for Slayer ears only, not their vampire lovers! And didn't I say I'd see you later? Huh? Did you not believe me? You are just so…argh!"

If Spike wasn't aroused before, he definitely was now. This was what he loved most about the Slayer, her fire, her passion, the way her eyes flashed in anger. Shifting, he tried to non-chalantly adjust himself, his erection painfully evident under his dark gray khakis.

She noticed.

The angry burning of her stare turned into molten desire as her eyes flicked down, then back to his face. With a low growl equal to any he could make, she launched herself at him, crushing her lips to his, plunging her tongue past his teeth, forcefully dueling with is own. Her hands sank into his short locks, her nails digging into his scalp as she pressed against him, rubbing her pelvis into his.

Spike looked around wildly, his eyes searching for a place to ravish her. Spotting another door, he lifted her against him, moving quickly to it. With a well placed kick, it shot open to reveal an office. He carried her over to the large desk, his lips never leaving hers, and shoved the objects on the top to the floor with one sweep of his arm before laying her across the glossed surface.

Buffy pushed at his coat, shoving it roughly off his shoulders, then moved to the buttons of his gray oxford. She fumbled with the buttons for a second, then savagely ripped the material apart, sending the fastenings flying all over the office. Her nails scratched into his lean, muscular chest, leaving thin lines of blood.

He growled this time, low and dangerous, as his hands sought the hidden zipper in the back of her body suit. Soon, she was bare from the waist up and he ran his fangs over her skin, slicing it lightly as he traveled down the center of her body. He bit into the swell of her abdomen right below her navel, his mouth filling with her sweet, coppery blood.

He quickly stripped the remainder of the cat suit off, along with her shoes. Naked, his goddess lay before him, and he forcibly replaced the human mask, his blue eyes burning with an intensity hot enough to melt glass. His hands ran punishingly along her bare skin, pinching and caressing as he fused his mouth to hers once more. He dipped his fingers between her silken folds, finding her hot and wet and ready for him. With another growl, he unfastened his belt and pants, allowing them to drop around his knees as he pressed his throbbing member between her legs, seeking her fire.

Buffy grabbed his backside and arched her hips, causing him to thrust into her to the hilt. She set the pace, her pelvis smashing against his as he slammed into her faster, harder, with all his strength. He moved from her mouth down the side of her neck, his face morphing again as she started to keen in his ear. Suddenly, she bit down hard on his shoulder near his neck, her blunt teeth bruising him, cutting into the soft tissue as she orgasm. Spike screamed out in the combination of pleasure and pain, then sunk his fangs into her jugular, climaxing intensely as he rammed into her several more times, spilling his seed deep within her.

When the world finally stopped spinning, Spike carefully removed his fangs from her neck, licking the twin puncture wounds as her breathing and heartbeat slowed. He pushed up on his hands and looked down into her brilliant eyes which watched him with undisguised bliss. Ever so gently, she brought her hands up to caress the ridges still prevalent on his face, then pulled his head down for a soft kiss before he could slip into his human features.

Stunned, he could only stare at her when she released him, her lips curled up in a satisfied, feminine smile. She unhooked her ankles behind his back, then pushed on his chest, indicating she wanted to get up. He shook his head to clear the clouds, then stepped away, pulling his pants back up and fastening them. When he went to re-button his shirt, he paused, frowning down at the material. Buffy began to giggle at his expression.

"What?" Spike said, confused and irritated at his lack of ability to get his mind in gear.

"This time, you're the one without the buttons," she replied as she stood and retrieved her discarded body suit. When he didn't answer, she waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Anybody home? Or did I blow your mind away?"

Spike blinked and looked up at her, then gave her a slow, sexy smile. "You most definitely blew my mind away," he answered, pulling her now clothed body back against his. "I can't bloody wait for you to do it again."

"Can you wait long enough to get back to your place rather than us doing it again in Principal Snyder's office?" Buffy asked offhandedly. He watched as her eyes grew round and a horrified expression crossed her face. "Snyder's office! We just had sex in Snyder's office! On his desk! I am so going to be expelled. Again!"

"Slayer, calm down," he chuckle as she pushed out of his arms and began to collect the things on the floor. He let his eyes rove appreciatively over her backside. "It's not like the bloke is going to know it happened."

"You don't know the little prick, Spike," Buffy said, putting stuff back on the desk. "He's evil! Worse than you! He'd blame me even if I didn't do it! Mom is going to kill me if I get kicked out of school for the third time!"

Spike stopped her with his arms, wrapping them around her waist from behind. "I'll clean it up, kitten. Why don't you go talk to your Watcher. I'm sure dragging me across the library by my ear gave him an eppy."

She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned back against him, a headache developing right between her eyes. "Ok. Meet me in there when you're done," she replied, reluctantly leaving his arms for the broken door. As she looked at it, she rubbed her forehead, the headache increasing. *I am so the dead girl.*

She trudged through the swinging doors to her second home, barely noticing Willow was still there, talking amicably with James. They both looked up and noticed the bite mark on her neck and faint sheen to her skin, their mouths curving into smiles as the Slayer went into Giles' office. "Looks like the doll saw a little action," James commented.

Willow blushed slightly, but nodded. "The bite mark was a giveaway. Unless she was attacked. But then she would be dead, not here…"

"YOU DID WHAT?"

The two looked to Giles' office at his angry yell, the hacker cringing. "Oh, boy," she whispered. "Buffy's toast." James chuckled, then moved to listen in on the obvious dressing down the Slayer was getting by her Watcher.

"…Don't look at me like that, Giles," Buffy was saying as the ghost got into earshot. "I chose to be with Spike and with him I'm going to stay."

"Buffy, I cannot condone this-this-this insane behavior," Giles said. "Spike is-is not like Angel. He does not possess a soul. He's pure demon, with-with no feelings, no conscience…"

"He does to have feelings," she interrupted. "Why do you think he made the deal with me to stop Angel from opening Acathala to begin with? Because he loved Drusilla."

"An obsession, maybe," Giles responded. "But I highly doubt it was love. Vampires are incapable of such emotion."

"Then why did he claim me, huh?" Buffy snapped. "Angel said it was a huge thing with them. Even he had a claim on me before leaving for LA."

Giles whipped off his glasses at her statement. "Are you certain h-he claimed you?"

"Yes! If you don't believe me, ask him yourself," Buffy said, rubbing her temples now that the headache moved. "And he does not want to make me into a vampire, so if you raise a weapon to him I will get really mad."

But Giles was already moving to one of his books, rapidly turning the pages, looking for the section dealing with vampire claims. He scanned the text, then slumped back in his chair in part relief, part worry. If what he read was true, Spike's actions actually protected the Slayer from other vampires, and he himself would die to save her life. On the other hand, almost all claimed humans were turned or killed if the vampire lost interest. And with the bite mark prevalent on Buffy's neck, he was worried it would be the former, creating a powerful ally for the forces of darkness.

As if he'd conjured him up, Spike appeared in the office doorway, absently rubbing his neck, his shirt held together by one button. Giles could see a blunt bite mark on the vampire's neck where he rubbed and closed his eyes with a painful sigh. "I understand that you have claimed Buffy," he said, opening his eyes to peer at the peroxide blond.

"That I have, Watcher," Spike affirmed, looking over at the woman in question. "She is my mate and I intend to keep it that way." Buffy blushed at his possessive tone, ducking her head.

"Do you plan to turn her?" Giles asked.

"No."

The answer was simple, succinct, direct. Spike's blue eyes met Giles' with steely countenance, the tweed clad librarian seeing the truth reflecting from them. Giles nodded and watched as the vampire's gaze slid to Buffy, those same eyes changing to burn with love and desire for her. If he didn't believe vampires had emotions before, he had no doubts now.

"Giles? What's the deal with the ghost?" Buffy asked, breaking into the heavy silence of the office.

"Ghost?" Giles said. "Oh, oh yes. James. We are, er, planning to reconvene here tomorrow night to-to research."

"Got it," she said, raising her head to look at her friend, her mentor, her Watcher. "I'm gonna depart, then, ok?"

"Very well," he replied. As she turned to leave, he stopped her. "Buffy?"

"Yeah, Giles?" Buffy said, turning to face him.

"Thank you," Giles said. "For telling me about you a-and Spike."

"No more secrets, remember?" Buffy responded, giving him a small smile.

"What a strange girl," he sighed as she left with Spike's arm around her waist. Shaking his head, he took out his Watcher's Diary to record the latest turn in events in his Slayer's life. The future Watchers and their wards were going to have a field day with his diaries, and Giles knew he'd either be a laughingstock or the most revered Watcher in history. He was hedging his bets to the former.

Part Three

"Grrr," Buffy said, slamming closed another book. "I don't why we're looking through dull old books for information on James. I mean, he's right here. Can't we just ask him?"

"We need to find out, er, why vampires, Buffy," Giles replied, not looking up from his book. "And possibly why James continues to return every year."

"Maybe the bad guys were humans who got turned into vampires just before the end of the year," Willow suggested, clicking at an icon on the computer.

"You know, for a sister, you're sure a wise head," James complimented to the hacker. Willow gave him a small smile, having brushed up on her Sam Spade during the day. "Where's the right gee who's dizzy with a dame like you?

"Um…he kinda hates me right now," Willow said sadly as she thought of Oz.

"Want I should pop him for you?" James asked.

"No! I mean…that's ok. It's my fault," Willow responded.

"Well, don't hesitate to use the blower if you change your mind," he grinned at her. "I'm in the book under 'Ghosts - Mob'." Willow laughed.

"But we still have a whole month and a half," Buffy whined to Giles over their conversation. "Plenty of time to find the bad guys and stop their party."

"So, what do you think?"

"About what, luv?" Spike asked, stretching his long, jean clad legs out beside her. They were sitting on his bed several days later, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. For now, at least.

"About Casper the Friendly Ghost," Buffy replied, propping her chin in her hand and looking up at him. "Think we should be wigged?"

"Couldn't tell you, pet," he said. "If you want, I'll bloody up a few of the younger ones, try to get a line for you."

"You'd do that?" Buffy said, clearly amazed.

"Of course," he replied, giving her a wicked grin. "The sooner you stop this thing, the sooner I have you all to myself."

"Possessive much?"

"Is it my fault you're so tasty?" Spike said, moving so he was laying face to face with her. "So sexy." He kissed her forehead. "So succulent." He kissed her nose. "So passionate." Her left cheek. "So fiery." Her right cheek. "So bloody irresistible." Her lips.

Buffy sighed when his lips met hers, her body trembling slightly from his words. Who would have thought her toughest foe was the most tender lover, gentle when gentleness was needed, strong when it was not. Who would have thought the one who hated her with his all he was could now love her with that same intensity, that same passion which sought death now wanted life.

"I love you, Buffy," Spike whispered against her mouth as he rolled their bodies so he was on top of hers, one arm supporting his weight. His free hand ran lightly down her side, then up under her pink shirt, caressing her warm skin. He rarely called her Buffy, always using 'Slayer' or 'Pet' or 'luv' instead. That's what made his declaration doubly important and special, he was showing her the depths of his feelings with one simple word. Her name.

He broke the kiss and took his time removing her clothing, then his own before returning to her side. He recaptured her lips, a tide of longing rising within him at her uninhibited response. Their lips touched, parted, then touched again as they explored the wonder of each other. His tongue dipped into the sweetness of her mouth and she moaned, drawing his tongue into a swirling dance with her own, sending waves of desire coursing though his body.

But before he would allow himself to find sweet relief, he sought to pleasure the beautiful woman at his side. With long, wet kisses and slow caresses of his mouth and tongue, he brought her to a glorious peak. When he finally sheathed himself inside her, filling her completely, it was almost too much. He plunged urgently within her, grasping her hands as if it were a lifeline. She met him thrust for thrust and the powerful exhilaration mounted, rolling over him in waves until the universe exploded around him in a million shards of glittering stardust. His cries joined hers as she, too, climaxed once more and pulsed around him, then relaxed to lie spent and unmoving under him.

A small, content smile hovered on his lips as he moved to her side, pulling her into the crook of his shoulder.

Part Four

Unlife couldn't get any better.

Spike practically bounced through the streets of Sunnydale, having just pounded on his tenth 'source' that week seeking information for Buffy. His love. His Slayer. His mate. With a large grin, he danced up the steps of the public library like Fred Astaire. When he reached the top, he had the greatest urge to throw his arms in the air like Rocky Balboa in the original movie. He never knew loving someone could be so…neat.

Drusilla, in all her mad glory, had never made him feel this way in the hundred years they were together as a couple. He had loved her, but it wasn't this all consuming, intense, giddy, comfortable, light hearted brightness in his dark life. Buffy was his sun, his warmth, his fire, his goodness and he would do almost anything to bring a smile to her lips, to have her gaze lovingly in his eyes, to have her accept him in her arms, in her bed.

He loved her when she was angry, when she was sad, when she was content and when she was being silly. He loved to listen to the sound of her voice, the way it changed from happy to sarcastic to irritated to seductive. He would sit and watch her breathe for hours if he had the chance. Sappy, but true.

Leaping onto the handrail, Spike did his imitation of a tightrope walker, black duster blowing wildly as the wind picked up, trying to knock the cheery vampire down, offended that such a soulless creature would dare to be happy. But the wind was out of luck as he moved lightly on his feet down the metal, then jumping to the ground before continuing on his way. Unlife was good.

"Life sucks," Buffy said, lobbing a wadded up piece of paper at the garbage can strategically placed in the center of the room. She couldn't figure out how her aim with a crossbow was always dead on when she couldn't even sink a basket.

"Why?" Willow asked, looking up from the textbook she was reading. School had started up again and the teachers were piling on the homework. Not that the red head minded. In fact, she liked having homework.

"Where do I start?" Buffy replied dryly. "Snyder gave me detention for absolutely no reason, mom is in one of her protective modes, I have more homework than I want and there's a test tomorrow that I am so gonna fail. Oh, and there's still a ghost hanging around the library, driving me nuts with his 'dolls' and 'sisters' and the other strange words that come from his mouth."

"I think the way he talks is neat," the hacker said. "Kinda like a different language."

"Will, you think Latin is cool," Buffy said. Willow shrugged, smile on her lips. "Anyway, life still sucks."

"What about Spike? He's a highlight," she pointed out.

"He sucks, too," Buffy replied, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Buffy!"

"Hello, my two most favoritist girls," Xander said, coming into Buffy's bedroom and dropping his backpack on the floor. "Have you staked Deadboy Junior, yet?"

"No, but he sure has staked me," Buffy said, tongue in cheek.

Xander groaned. "I so did not need to hear that," he said, jumping onto the bed between his best friends. "What are we doing?"

"Homework," Willow answered. "At least, I am. Buffy's trying to become the next Michael Jordan. And not succeeding."

"Willow! When did you get such an acid tongue?" Buffy asked, grinning at her friend over Xander's dark head.

"Would you believe me if I said Giles?" Willow replied, sending the threesome into gales of laughter.

"Speaking of our beloved tweed man," Xander said when they had calmed down. "He wanted to know if your bloodsucker found anything out or not."

"Not yet," Buffy said, wadding up another piece of notebook paper. She took aim and shot, missing the lip by a foot. "Damn."

"You're doing it all wrong, missy," Xander said, grabbing some paper. "It's all in the wrist. Observe." He let his 'basketball' fly, and it landed in the garbage can with a small, hollow thunk.

Willow gave up on reading, and stole some paper from Xander's pile. She repeated his actions, her own shot landing in the can, as well. "That's two," she said, flashing a grin at her oldest friend.

Buffy frowned, crumpling up another sheet. She let the paper wad go with a little too much enthusiasm and it sailed across the room…smacking right into Spike's leg.

He looked down at the floor where the ball dropped, then up at the Slayer, arching one dark brow. Willow and Xander were snickering as Buffy's cheeks reddened slightly. "Sorry."

"Still haven't caught the hang of it, eh, luv?" Spike said, picking up the discarded paper and walking over to her. He bent and kissed her on the top of the head, then lobbed the ball at the garbage can casually over his shoulder without looking, sinking it like a pro.

"How'd you do that?" Buffy asked. "You didn't even look."

"Years of practice, pet," he replied, pulling out the desk chair and straddling it backwards. "You should see what I can do with a deck of cards."

"So, what are you doing here, Spike? Run out of people to kill?" Xander said, then shook his head mentally at his mouth for egging the vampire on. Luckily, Spike was in too good a mood to take offense at the teen.

"I can come and see my mate whenever I want to," Spike said, his grin belaying his tone.

"What is it with you and this 'mate' thing?" Xander said, his mouth running away from him some more. "What are you? Some sort of animal? Wait, never mind, you are."

Spike rolled his eyes, causing the girls to giggle. He was in a very silly mood. "No, you git, I'm only higher in the food chain than you." Ignoring Xander's stuttered outburst at that, he turned to the Slayer. "No dice on the information, ducks, but I had a bloody good time trying to get some."

"I bet you did," Buffy said. "Oh well. I guess you'll just have to try again tomorrow." She laughed as his face brightened at the thought of more violence. Maybe she'd go with him, really freak the fledglings out.

Willow closed her textbook for good, setting it on the floor next to the bed. "How about a movie, guys? There's a new one on the Indian channel."

Xander perked up. "Sounds good to me. I could use some bad singing."

Buffy smiled. "Ok. I'll go throw in some popcorn. Spike, do you want to stay and watch, too?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, pet," he replied, shedding his duster, then following her out of the bedroom. The instant they were clear of the door, he grabbed her, smashing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. When he broke it off, he gave her an off-kilter smile, then whistled as he headed downstairs towards the kitchen. Buffy trailed after him as soon as her knees started working again.

"This is so ridiculous," Buffy said quietly, long, wicked looking knife at her side. She looked over at Faith, who held a similar blade in her hand. "We've had snake men, fish boys, killer robots, invisible chicks, mummies, bugs, blobs and vampires. But this? This tops the charts for ookiness."

"It had to happen sometime, B," Faith said. "After all, the poor guy has been forced to predict the weather for god knows how long now. I'd snap, too."

"Yeah, but who ever heard of a demon groundhog?"

Part Five

Violence. Such an elegant word to the one who craves it, embraces it. Violence gives off a natural high, an adrenaline rush not accomplished with any drug, any religion, any sexual act. And it is with this natural high that a fighter can become better, more fluid, more graceful, more powerful if they know how to use it, know how to harness it. Very few know how, for it is a combination of emotion and skill, is both mental and physical, takes cunning and agility. With this high, a midget could take on a giant and win. Or a Slayer and a vampire.

Buffy rolled to her feet, twisting her body to lash out with her foot, catching the vampire across the jaw. His head snapped back, the crack of the bone breaking echoing in the empty alley where so many similar fights have taken place. She stepped forward with a snap kick, nailing her opponent in the knee, snapping the tendons, causing him to fall towards her. Quickly, she pulled a stake from nowhere and plunged it into his heart. He exploded in a cloud of dust.

"He certainly was a waste of space," she said to herself, sliding the stake into its hiding place. Shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, she made her way out of the alley, continuing her patrol. She let her mind wander as she walked, her thoughts drifting to the ghost hanging out in the library. He'd been there for over a month now, talking and flirting with Willow. Mostly flirting. Willow hadn't noticed, though, she figured he was only interested in someone to talk to. After all, he was dead. Corpses didn't make good conversationalists.

They had yet to find out who the vampires or their intended victims were for the St. Valentine's Day Massacre reenactment James had prophesized. Spike had gone whole hog in 'persuading' those he found into giving him information, but to no avail.

Spike. When Buffy thought of him, her insides melted into a bowl of pudding bringing a smile to her face. Her greatest opponent turned into her greatest love. And love him she did, a bright, happy love that kept the darkness of her non-chosen life at bay. He was so different than Angel, light where Angel was dark, lean instead of brawny, outgoing rather than withdrawn. He wasn't afraid to touch her, to demand her touch. He challenged her, made her think, wouldn't let her slide into the depression that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her when she thought about all who died because of her inability to kill Angelus, when she thought about the pain she caused her friend, her mentor, her Watcher, Giles.

When they made love, it was like the heavens were singing, no matter that he had no soul. And each time he said her name, the sky would burst into all the colors of the rainbow, showering her with joy and wonder that this man could love her. And love her he did, a tender, all encompassing love that made her quiver with its intensity, its fire engulfing her wholly, truly, completely. The only barrier to their love was that he was a vampire. And she was the Slayer. The last time she ignored that fact, lives were destroyed, including the one whose heart she now held.

She knew he wouldn't turn her, wouldn't make her into that which she most feared. But could she stand by as the innocent lives she was sworn to protect were snuffed out to bring life to the man she loved? Should she make that same mistake by not staking him as she did Angelus all those months ago? Or should she do her sacred duty and destroy the most gentle yet savage creature to enter her all too short life? The choice was simple. The choice was complicated. The choice was impossible.

One day, she'd have to talk to him about it. But not today.

"You know, if we don't find out who these mugs are, there's gonna be seven stiffs wearing wooden kimonos," James said, sitting back down next to Willow and her computer. "What's the wire?"

"Uh…no news is good news?" Willow said carefully. She shrugged. "Maybe Spike will have found something out tonight."

"Spike. That's the blond cat who's dizzy with the hot tomato, right?" James asked.

"Yes, Buffy," she replied, typing a few keys on the computer. Suddenly, her face lit up. "I think I found something. Giles!"

"Yes, Willow?" Giles said, exiting his office.

"I got an order from the mayor's office that is suppose to be delivered on the 14th," she said excitedly. "It's for seven coffins. Oh, that's not good."

"Does that machine tell you where the, uh, coffins are to be brought?" Giles asked.

Willow searched the screen for a moment, her mouse rapidly clicking. "Drat. No, it doesn't, only that it's for somewhere in Sunnydale on Valentine's Day, which is odd considering its on a Sunday this year."

"Hmm, interesting," Giles said, removing his glasses and sticking the corner in his mouth as he thought.

"What's interesting?" Xander said, entering the library with Faith, having met up with her in the hall.

"Delivery of coffins on Valentine's Day," Willow supplied to her friends.

"Nothing says I love you like a pine box," Xander quipped. "Speaking of wood, anyone see the Buffster?"

"Nope," she replied. "I haven't seen her since yesterday."

"Maybe she's doing a little undercover work," Faith suggested, a lewd smile on her face.

"Get your mind out of that gutter, young lady," Xander scolded. "I'd rather think of Buffy as-as-as chaste, and, uh, pure and my love slave."

"Too late for that, Xand," Faith said. "Have you seen the bites on that girls neck? Damn, they had to be goin' at it like bunnies." Giles cleared his throat, his eyes wide and a slight pallor washed across his skin. "Oh, sorry, Giles. I guess you don't want to hear about B's voracious love for all things Spike. My bad."

"Voracious?" Xander asked, pointedly.

Faith shrugged. "It was on my word a day calendar. Sue me."

"Yes, well, um…to-to get back to St. Valentine's Day," Giles prompted, sliding his glasses back into place. "Willow is trying to unearth more information from that dread machine."

"Computer, Giles," Xander said. "Com-pu-ter. It's not that hard once you get the hang of the English language."

Giles glared at him. "We need to find out where the delivery is to be made."

"Why don't we just do a stake out?" Faith asked. "There's not too many ways into this 'burb. We should be able to cover them all between the bunch of us. Then bada bing, bada boom, we slay."

"Well, I, er…guess that would do," Giles stammered.

"Cool," Faith said, heading for the door. "I'm gone then. Check ya laters."

James looked over at Willow who gave him a shrug and a smile before returning her attention to the computer. "That twist sure has a yap on her."

"Hey, you're a little too dead to be looking at her yap," Xander said to the ghost. Willow and James laughed at his misunderstanding. "Fine, laugh at me. But just you wait 'til Faith knocks you on your ghostly hiney, then we'll see who laughs."

"What do you bloody want?" Spike said, glaring at the vampire in front of him. He was on his way to Buffy's house for a nice, quiet, hopefully naked evening with the Slayer when he was stopped.

"I heard you had a ghost problem," Angel said, falling into step with the peroxide blond.

"The only problem we've got is you, mate," he replied. "Can't you stay gone?"

"Look, I don't know what the hell you've done to Buffy or what you're planning, but if you hurt her, I will hunt you down like the dog you are and skin you," Angel snapped.

"I'd like to see you try, you stupid sod," Spike growled back.

The right cross that caught his jaw came as a complete surprise to the blond vampire. He hadn't expected Angel to do anything, he usually was all talk and no action. Head snapping back with the blow, Spike dropped into a defensive stance as the second swing came, blocking it with his forearm before throwing his own punch. Angel ducked back out of the way, kicking out and tripping the younger vampire.

Spike sprang back to his feet, lashing out with a kick to his sire's midsection, breaking ribs. Grunting, Angel sent a spinning back kick to his face, knocking him on the other side of the jaw. The fight became more involved and brutal, and they did not notice the blond figure approaching them until she screamed.

"Spike! Angel! What the hell are you doing!" Buffy yelled, staying clear of the fight. It would have been comical, the way they suddenly stopped, if she wasn't upset they were fighting. Spike was the first to send her a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, pet. Just having a bit of fun with peaches here," he said, walking towards her. She stopped him with a sharp poke in his chest.

"Don't you 'pet' me," she ground out. "I want to know why you two were fighting, and I want to know now!"

"He started it," Spike said, pointing to Angel. Angel glared at him, wiping the blood from his mouth on his sleeve.

"I don't care who started it! I want to know why!"

Spike faced her, his eyes wide at the Slayer's anger. Then he realized something else was underlying her outburst as he observed the way she stood, the way her eyes flicked over to Angel even as she glared at him. He really hated when his sire came to town. "It's a guy thing, luv. He was only making sure I was taking care of you." Not really the truth, but not a total lie, either.

Buffy's brow was knotted as she started at him, weighing what he said. "Fine. Just don't do it again," she told him, then turned to Angel. "What are you doing here?"

"Giles called," Angel simply said. Buffy nodded, then started to walk again. Spike shot Angel a murderous glare, then hustled to catch up with her.

"Ducks? Do you still want me to come over?" he asked with shy hopefulness.

The Slayer couldn't help the small quirk of her lips at his tone, reminding her of the vast contradictions that made him unique. "Yes, you can still come over," she replied with a dramatic sigh. When his whole face lit up she let go of her anger at him and laughed. "I don't know why I put up with you."

He stopped her suddenly, grabbing her arm and pulling her so they were standing inches apart. He cupped her chin with his other hand, ignoring the fact that Angel was standing a few feet back, and tilted her face to his. "I hope it's because you love me," he said quietly, uncertainty in his eyes. "Not because of him."

The choice was simple.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part Six

Spike could swear his heart was pounding in his chest as he waited for her to answer. The time seemed to stretch on for eternity as all his insecurities were laid in plain view of the one man who once held Buffy's heart, the man who destroyed his, leaving him to pick up the pieces and try to glue them back together.

Her answer was a kiss. The softest, sweetest, gentlest, most tender kiss he'd ever received.

His whole body began to tremble as the feelings she invoked overwhelmed his senses. Shaking, he pulled her into his arms, deepening the kiss with passion and ferocity, telling her with his lips and tongue how much he loved her, worshiped her, how she filled the missing pieces in the heart that Angel had shattered when he had stolen Dru.

Buffy broke the kiss first, gulping in breaths of air as his fingers stroked her cheek, her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Let's go," she said quietly, forgetting completely that Angel was standing nearby. Spike nodded once, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers, his eyes never leaving hers. They began a slow walk back the way they'd come, heading for his home.

Angel had never witnessed a more powerful, pure love in all his two hundred forty years of existence.

Spike opened the back entrance to the old shop where he made his home, allowing Buffy to enter before him. Dropping his coat unceremoniously to the floor, he gently pulled her into his arms, lowering his lips to hers.

Buffy's taste coursed through him, her heat invading him as she slipped her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer to him, holding onto her, wanting to be closer than was humanly possible. If he could have melted into her, he would have, to be surrounded by her, to have every pore in his being covered by her. He wanted her to be his soul, wanted her to be a part of him forever.

Falling back on the bed Spike braced himself with his hands on either side of her, his arms tensely supporting his weight, suspending him above her. His legs were between hers, his thighs pressed against her, and when he closed his eyes, he could almost feel him filling her. She arched into him and he groaned, a deep, raw sound that spoke volumes, the tension radiating off of him as he fought to keep some semblance of control.

He moved back, and for a moment Buffy felt afraid that he was going to stop. But the next thing she knew he was undoing his black jeans. Without embarrassment, he stepped out of the denim, then took of his boxers, which barely contained his desire. Then he was there in front of her, with nothing to hide the effect she was having on him.

She couldn't move. She took in every detail, letting it sear into her mind, then he was coming toward her, getting onto the bed by her. He got onto his side, supporting himself on one elbow, his eyes burning into hers. Then he lifted his other hand to touch her, but drew back, telling her with his gaze to undress. She did so quickly, returning to his side in an instant.

Stretching alongside him, she reached out and found his hardness, the contact bringing a shuddering moan from Spike, deep and jarring, and his hips arched toward her touch. She stroked him as she partially rolled onto him, close enough to taste his lips, then his jaw, then the hollow of his throat.

Spike felt Buffy's mouth move lower on him as she stroked him with a fiery demand that drew at the core of his being. The sensations were overwhelming, and he was losing himself in a vortex of need that threatened to consume him. When her mouth found his nipple, when her hand moved faster on him, he jerked back, a fear so raw and deep in him that it had no name hurling him into a place he wasn't sure he'd ever come back from.

"Stop," he gasped. "Stop."

He felt her freeze, then her hands and mouth leave him. But he didn't want that. He didn't want her to stop. Slowly he opened his eyes, and she was right there, her face mere inches from his, her lips turned down in a worried frown.

"Spike?" she asked in a tremulous whisper. "Do you want me to stop?"

"God, no," he managed to croak out. "I want you."

In one quick motion she was over him, straddling his hips, and he could feel her against him. He arched back and entered her, filling her as if they'd been made for each other. His hands ached from their hold on the bed sheets, and he fought the need to thrust deeper into her. As if she knew, Buffy lowered herself onto him, and he heard her moan softly. When he looked up, her eyes were closed, her head thrown back and her hands braced on his pale chest. Then, with aching slowness, she moved, and his world was filled with an ecstasy that was almost unbearable.

Spike felt the universe center on that moment, and as she moved on him, he knew an exquisite agony that blurred the line between pain and pleasure. It grew and grew, and as her fingers dug into his flesh, as her heat consumed him, he knew that if this was it for the rest of his unlife, it would be worthwhile. It was all for this moment, for this second. She became his heartbeat.

When he heard Buffy cry out, he knew he couldn't bear it any longer. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting and joining in. His voice mingled with hers, and he felt the explosion that sent him into a place where everything was right, everything was perfect and everything was possible. Including her giving him his soul.

Part Seven

Peace. That's what he felt as he held Buffy in his arms. A deep, fulfilling peace that filled his entire body. The fear that had sprung up earlier as she touched him had been his demon fighting against him, fighting against her, fighting against love. But in a battle between love and hate, there could only ever be one true winner. Love.

Buffy sighed against Spike's chest, her fingers tracing invisible patterns over the muscles of his abdomen. "Did I answer your question?"

He chuckled, the low sound echoing under her ear. "Yes, luv, you did," he said, gently squeezing her waist. He glanced over at the small clock and groaned. "I don't want you to go."

She looked at the clock as well, noting the late, or rather early, hour. "I don't want to go either, but if I don't, mom's gonna kill me," she replied, crawling out of his arms and across the bed to retrieve her clothes. "Tomorrow…er, today is the 13th. Giles said to meet in the library as soon as you can get there. Kind of a last ditch effort to figure out how to stop this thing-a-ma-bob from happening."

"I'll be there," Spike replied, watching her dress with heavy, appreciative eyes. She slid on her shoes, then bent and kissed him softly before sliding on her coat. She paused at the back door, turning to look at him.

"I love you," Buffy said with a small smile, then quickly opened the door and left.

"I love you, too, Buffy," he whispered into the quiet room. "More than you could ever imagine."

"You mean we gotta pull all day stake outs and then slay?" Buffy asked Giles the next afternoon in the library. The Slayer and her friends spent more time in the school than anywhere else, which was strange considering teens spent most of their energy trying to get out of school.

"Yes, if it requires that long," Giles answered. "That was the-the plan."

"I guess I'll be loading up on Jolt cola," she sighed, arching her back to work the kinks out from sleeping most of the Saturday away. "When's the rest of the Wild Bunch suppose to get here?"

"I told them at sunset, which means they should be here soon," he replied. "Angel will be here, as-as well."

"I know. I ran into him and Spike having a free for all last night," Buffy said. "Speaking of old haunts, where's James?"

"I'm not sure," Giles said. "He wasn't here when I arrived."

"You think he's pulled a David Copperfield?"

"Not that I am aware of," he replied. "Per-perhaps he went to wherever ghosts go when they're not on this plane."

"To the big Starbucks in the sky," Buffy smiled. "Gotcha."

"Hi Buffy!" Willow greeted, entering the library with James. Giles smiled at the duo, then retreated to his office.

"Hey, Wills," Buffy responded, shooting a puzzled look at the ghost. "I didn't know you could leave the library."

"Why not? I'm a ghost, not a stiff," James replied.

"Mr. Clark has been telling me stories about the Prohibition," Willow told Buffy excitedly.

"Hello, ladies and ghosts," Xander said, joining them. "Are we all set for another exciting night of preventing the fang gang from taking over Sunnydale?"

"I thought we were going Richard Dreyfus/Emilio Estevez tonight," Buffy said.

"Not until closer to midnight," Willow replied. "The delivery instructions said Valentine's Day, and at midnight it officially becomes the 14th, so we should start then. Bad guys usually do things about that time, don't they?"

"That's been my experience," she answered. "And hello Oz." Willow's eyes widened and she spun around to see the short guitarist standing in the library doorway.

"Hey," Oz greeted in return. "Willow, can I talk to you?"

"Sure," Willow said, looking over he shoulder at Buffy, then following him out into the hall.

"Go get him, doll," James said quietly, a small, knowing smile on his face.

"I had a visitor this morning," Oz began without preamble. "A ghost. Hadn't seen one of them before, but I wasn't too surprised considering."

"Mr. Clark visited you?" Willow asked with a small voice.

"Yes. Interesting man. Hard to understand, though," Oz replied. "Basically, he told me that if I passed up the chance to be with you, I was really dumb. Of course, he used more colorful words. That got me thinking about you, which isn't much of a change because I always am thinking about you, and decided he was right."

"He was?"

"Willow, I'm not going to lie to you and say I'm ok with what happened, but I know that you loved Xander for like...ever and it was inevitable. But now that it has, I'm going to take the approach that he's in the past and I hope to be your present and future."

"I'd love for you to be my present and future," Willow whispered.

Oz nodded. "Hug?"

Willow was in his arms in an instant and they both sighed in happiness, silently thanking the ghost who brought them back together.

"So, what's going on?" Oz asked when he and Willow returned to the library.

"Stake out, starting tonight," Faith answered, having arrived a few minutes before.

"Cool," Oz said. "Count me in."

"Me, too," Angel said, stepping out of the stacks, but keeping himself separate, no longer having a place with the group gathered in what was affectionately dubbed Slayer Central.

"That's a good way to get yourself staked, Deadboy," Xander snapped, startled by his voice.

"Sorry."

"Is Spike coming?" Willow asked Buffy after seeing Angel.

"He said he'd be here," Buffy replied.

Oz gave her a strange look, which was not that different than his normal looks. "And we are wanting him to come? I have a feeling I'm behind on a lot."

"Spike's good," Willow told him. "Well, not really good in a has a soul and doesn't kill anyone sort of way. But he won't hurt us. He's Buffy's main squeeze."

"Right," Oz said, taking in the information with his unflappable persona. He cocked his head suddenly. "Warrant."

"Huh?" Buffy said, wondering what he meant. Then she heard singing coming from the hallway. Loud singing. And the sound of someone jumping up and hitting the overhangs.

"She's my cherry pie, cool drink of woman such a sweet surprise, tastes so good makes a poor man cry, sweet cherry pie..." The door to the library opened as the singing tapered off, admitting a jovial Spike. "Hello, all," he greeted, coming into the room practically bouncing on his feet. He went over to Buffy and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"What's up with you?"

"He probably fed off a druggie," Angel sneered under his breath, loud enough so those with enhanced hearing understood. Buffy was about to retort when Spike did something very un-Spike-like. He turned to the stacks, scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out at his sire.

Buffy started to giggle, smacking him on the shoulder. "Behave," she said without conviction.

It was decided to split up in teams of two with Giles staying at the library and the ghost going with Angel. They were to cover the few entrances into Sunnydale, loaded down with Jolt cola and instructed to call if the delivery was made.

"This sucks," Xander said, kicking his feet out in front of him on the bench.

"What does?" Faith asked. She pulled out her knife and began digging at the sole of her boot.

"It's Valentine's Day, and I'm sitting at a bus stop surrounded by the dregs of humanity. But, hey, at least there aren't thirty or so women trying to kill me this year."

"If you want, I can kill you," she replied.

"I'll keep that in mind if things start to get too boring," he joked.

"This is not how I pictured spending Valentine's Day," Oz said, sipping a cup of coffee and looking out the window of his van. "I was thinking more along the lines of music, conversation, maybe a little dancing."

"Well, it doesn't have to be all bad," Willow said. She turned on the radio and played with the dials until she was satisfied. "We have music. And-and we're talking. Although dancing may be hard."

Oz gave her one of his happy smiles. "And I have you."

"So, what did a gee like you get your skirt last Valentine's Day?" James asked Angel.

"A heart," Angel replied, guilt weighing heavily on his mind.

"What kind? Chocolate? Paper?"

"Human."

"Pet?"

"Hmm?"

"We're suppose to be watching for the truck."

"You watch, I'll do this."

"Slayer!"

"There she is," Oz said, starting up the van as the large delivery truck drove by them. He pulled out onto the quiet Sunnydale street, keeping a good distance between him and the truck. They followed it towards the docks, parking near the curb to watch as they unloaded seven coffins into a run down building. Ducking as the truck drove off, they waited a few minutes, then headed back to the library.

Part Eight

"What now, oh fearless tweedman?" Xander asked Giles when they all reconvened at the library. The humans in the room were decidedly hyper from the caffeine they'd consumed over the course of the night.

"I would suggest that we go to the um, docks and take a look," Giles answered.

"I'm game," Faith said.

"Me, too," Willow added.

"Wherest thou goes..." Oz said to Willow, who grinned happily.

"Well, I have to escort a certain blond home," Buffy said, wrapping her arms around Spike's waist. "But then I'm free."

"After a couple of hours," Spike mumbled to her. She giggled.

Eventually, it was decided that everyone but Angel and Spike, who couldn't go out of necessity, would head down to the docks. Buffy pouted, but went anyway.

It was impossible for five caffeine laden teens to be silent as they snuck into the warehouse. Giles sighed heavily as they broke out into giggles over Xander kicking a paint can, and gave the ghost a shrug. "Children," he said, the word explaining it all.

"Check it out," Faith said, approaching the coffins lined neatly in the center of the room.

"You know what I don't get," Xander said, opening one up and looking inside. "Why do they need coffins? They could just leave the bodies and I doubt Sunnydale's finest would find them."

"Maybe they're gonna use them as a hiding place, like in that James bond movie," Willow suggested. "Customs doesn't like to check bodies for contraband."

"Possible," Giles said, examining a coffin.

"Or how about vamp transportation?" Buffy said. "It's dark, comfy and they look like corpses."

"Pretty smart," Oz said to her. "Especially if they need to travel across seas."

"However, this still does not tell us who the, er, vic-victims are," Giles said.

"How 'bout if we play opossum?" Faith suggested. "Hide in these babies 'til they get here, then wham! We hit 'em where it kills."

"I get the one with the red!" Xander called, jumping up into the casket he opened. He laid down and closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Someone close me in."

"Xander, I-I-I do not think..."

Giles went back to the library to get more weapons and leave messages for Spike and Angel as to the groups whereabouts while James watched over the teens. They had quieted down after an hour, the caffeine wearing off and their bodies insisted they sleep. In the coffins. With a ghost for a babysitter.

"Hey cats and kittens, it's showtime," James said late that afternoon. Giles had returned with stakes, holy water and other slaying paraphernalia before hiding himself in the warehouse with a book. Paperback for once.

The gang that had emerged to sit around and talk while waiting after they'd finally woken up scrambled to get back in position, loaded down with weapons. The Opossum Plan, as Xander dubbed it, called for James to give the signal to attack, and the two Slayers would push open the lids, firing their crossbows while the rest aided from the wings.

But, the best laid plans of mice and men...

"Sorry mate, it's not gonna work," Spike said to Angel as they walked quickly to the dock. Or rather, Angel walked. Spike bounced like Tigger. "Your words have no effect on me."

Angel scowled at him. "Just remember, she loved me first."

"Yeah, but she loves me now, you jealous loon," he replied, giving his sire a cocky grin. "An’ there’s nothing you can do about it." He practically sang the second sentence, that’s how sure he was of his heart. Of his mate.

"Put a cork in it," Angel snapped as they approached the address Giles had left for them at the library. Peering carefully around a corner, he motioned for them to creep towards the door. Spike ignored him and sauntered on by in time to see Faith come crashing out a window.

"Ouch, that hurt," she said, pushing to her feet. "’Bout time yous guys showed up! We’re gettin’ our asses kicked." And with that, she jumped back through the window.

"I love this part," Spike confided in Angel before jumping through the window as well, trying to hide the smile on his face. Angel shook his head before joining them.

The inside of the warehouse was a mess, coffins overturned and broken, dust and blood covering the floor. Oz, Willow, Xander and Giles had created a barricade with old crates and tables, firing crossbow bolts and throwing bottles of holy water at the vampires fighting with Faith and Buffy in between fighting for their lives as the vamps came after them. James was with them, but all he could do was stand and watch.

Buffy was bleeding heavily from a gash on her temple, her clothing ripped and bloody, as she fought three vamps at once. Faith was no better, having just broken through a window, as she tackled two to the ground.

Spike stood watching his mate for a moment, admiring her form and skill. He could tell that she was high on an adrenaline rush as she expertly plunged another stake into the heart of her opponent. Without pausing, she back flipped over two that were trying to sneak up behind her.

Angel barreled past him, diving into the fray with little finesse but a lot of anger. Anger at Spike for just standing there while Buffy was getting hurt. With each hit on another vampire, he pretended to beat his peroxide blond childe to a pulp.

With an actual giggle, Spike headed casually for the fight in the center of the room, cracking his knuckles. "Hello, cutie," he called out, his voice echoing over the fight. "Miss me?"

It was as if Moses parted the Red Sea all over again.

The vampires turned as one, their heads whipping towards the sound of his voice. "Spike?"

Someone was brave enough to croak out his name, and his lips rose in a slow smile. He took a half bow, then dropped into a relaxed fighting stance. "Anyone?"

Chaos erupted. Complete and total insanity. This would go down in the Watchers Diaries as the strangest conclusion to any battle against the forces of darkness in history. Five vampires staked themselves, three jumped out the window Faith had crashed through to escape, one groveled on the floor and two decided they were brave enough to take on Spike, being the leaders of the attack.

The bigger of the two charged at him, and he ducked, clipping the vamp in the legs. He went over Spike’s back like a ton of bricks, landing heavily on the floor. Spike stomped down on the back of his neck, breaking it instantly. Then spun and kicked the other attacker across the jaw, followed by a left cross. After all, he was a lefty.

With a wink, he boxed the vampire’s ears, then yanked his head down into Spike’s knee, smashing his nose. Holding on to his collar, Spike pitched him towards a handy metal support column, his head hitting with a loud clang. The blond vampire took that opportunity to kick the fallen vampire in the ribs with the steel toe of his boot, cracking them.

"Should we stake them?" Faith asked, hands on her knees as she watched him give the vampire he’d thrown into the metal column a wedgie.

"Nah, let him have his fun," Buffy said, amused by her lover’s antics. She walked over to where the rest of her friends were watching and looked them over. No one seemed to be too hurt.

After a few more minutes, both vampires were little more than bloody heaps on the ground with Spike squatting between them. "Now, who were the victims for your little massacre that was suppose to be tonight?"

"Just the two families," the one who could still move his jaw got out. "Trick says they’re the most influential in Sunnydale not under the Mayor’s control."

"Names, poopkin, give me the names," Spike demanded in a soft, deadly tone.

"Chase and Vargus," he said. "Set for ten."

Spike patted him on the back, then stood, turning to the others still watching him with undisguised interest. He strolled over to Buffy and tilted her chin, examining the wound on her head. "You’re hurt," he said.

"I’ve been worse," she shrugged. "You, on the other hand, are amazing."

"I try," he replied, grinning at her. He looked at the others. "The hit’s on some families by the names of Chase and Vargus. We have until ten o’clock to prevent it."

"Chase? As in Cordelia?" Xander asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Spike shrugged. "Got me, mate."

"I-I-I wanted to ask how you did that," Giles finally managed to say coming out of his stupor at the actions of their opponents when Spike appeared. "I’ve never seen any-anything like it."

"That’s because Angel-boy was a fairy," Spike replied. "He didn’t instill fear in anyone."

"Hey," Angel said, offended.

"Ok, maybe a little fear when you lost your soul again," he said. "Just a bit."

"You mean the vampires were afraid of you?" Willow asked. He nodded. "But why didn’t they think you were on their side? You don’t have a soul."

"Who says I don’t?" Spike replied cryptically. Buffy shot him a confused glance.

"Spike here has managed to garner himself a pretty gruesome reputation this past month," Angel answered the hacker’s question since it didn’t look like his childe would. "Plus, with his claim on Buffy, it makes him all the more formidable, especially those younger than him."

"So you mean since he’s doing the vertical lambada with B and hasn’t been dusted by her, the fangs are scared of him?" Faith said. Angel nodded. "Damn, I gotta get me one of those."

"Sorry, Faith, Spike’s are in short supply," Buffy said. "And mine’s not for sale."

"How ‘bout a rental?" Faith asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"You know guys, as much as I’d love to stay around here and talk about Buffy’s desire to sleep with corpses, we have a couple of families to save," Xander said shortly, turning no his heel and heading for the warehouse door.

"Boy, his short hairs are caught on his zipper," Faith said.

"It’s Cordelia," Willow pointed out.

"Which will either make this really easy," Buffy said. "Or really hard."

Part Nine

"Here it is, Emily Vargus," Buffy said, pointing to a picture in last year’s yearbook.

"I know Emily," Oz said, looking over the counter at the book. "She was in my music class. One of the few I actually showed up for."

"Then you have Vargus duty," Buffy said. "Take Willow and Faith with you and somehow convince Emily to keep her family indoors tonight. And not invite anyone in."

"Let’s motor," Faith said, grabbing a few more stakes and leaving with the newly re-matched couple. Angel and the ghost had stayed behind by the warehouse just in case Trick or the Mayor managed to get either of the families.

"Xander, you, me and Spike are going to Cordelia’s," Buffy continued. "Hopefully she’ll get it through her thick head that this is important."

"We are talking about the same Cordelia, right?" Xander said as they went out the door.

"Hi, is Cordelia here?" Buffy asked.

"Si, Senorita," Lousia, the Chase’s housekeeper replied.

"Senora," Spike corrected.

"Que?"

"Esta me espousa," he told her, putting his arm around Buffy’s waist.

"Me excusa, por favor," Louisa said. "I am sorry. I will get her." She held the door open for them to enter. Buffy whispered a quick ‘come in’ to Spike once she crossed the threshold, glad to note that the housekeeper didn’t automatically invite people in with words.

Xander nervously stuck his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet on the beautifully tiled floor in the foyer. He was glad Louisa hadn’t kept him out.

"What did you say to her?" Buffy asked Spike as she looked around.

"Oh, nothing, pet," he replied, giving her an innocent smile. Buffy scrunched her nose at him, vowing to look up what he said later.

"What do you want?" Cordelia practically hissed as she came down the stairs. Then she noticed Spike standing next to Buffy, arm still around her waist. "Oh, god," she said, pulling out a body of holy water she kept on her and flinging it at the Slayer.

"Hey!" Buffy screeched as Spike jumped away from her. "What the hell was that for?"

"You-you’re not a vampire?" Cordelia asked, shaken.

"No, I’m not a vampire," Buffy said. "Neither is Xander."

"But…Spike…"

"Oh, he’s with me," the Slayer said, wiping her face on her sleeve as she turned to the vampire in question. "Great, now you can’t touch me until I change." Spike pouted, making her laugh.

"Ok, does someone want to clue me in now, or should I have you forcefully removed?" Cordelia said.

"You’re in danger, Cordy," Xander told her, not looking up from the floor. "We need you to keep your family inside for tonight and not invite anyone in."

"What did you guys do to me now?" Cordelia whined.

"It’s not us, it’s the Mayor and Trick," Buffy said. "They’re not happy with your dad not being in their back pockets."

The brunette looked at the trio for a long moment, then nodded. "I’ll keep them home somehow. But I want a little protection in return."

"We were planning on doing that anyway," Buffy said, turning for the door. "Spike and I will be outside patrolling the grounds until dawn. You guys should be safe after then."

"What about…" The door opened and closed on Cordelia’s sentence. "Xander?"

"I’m suppose to stay inside with you," Xander told her, pain in his voice. "Last line of defense sort of thing."

"You?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Listen, I know you hate me and could care less about how I feel, but I love you and don’t want to see you or your family get hurt," he said quickly. "I’ll just hang out here by the front door. Tell Louisa not to open the back door unless it’s Buffy or Spike."

Cordelia stared at his down turned head, his statement seeping into her brain. Wordlessly, she turned on her heel and left.

Xander was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, staring at nothing, his forearms dangling from his bent knees. He didn’t notice Cordelia come into the front hall until she sat down beside him, her normally fashionably dressed body clad in an old sweatshirt and sweatpants.

"Ok, I’ve never hated someone so much as I hate you, Xander," she said. "I hate that you have the power to hurt me, that you did hurt me, that I gave up almost everything I knew to be with you."

"I’m sorry."

"It’s going to take a lot more than words to show me you’re sorry," she told him. "It’s going to take flowers, and candy, and jewelry, and you dressing better, and coming with me whenever I want to go shopping and not complaining about it, and closet time. Lots of closet time."

Xander wasn’t sure if he heard right as he raised his head to stare at her, mouth gaping. "You-you-you…"

"The reason I hate you so much is because I love you, you dweeb," Cordelia said. "And if you ever hurt me like that again, I’ll pull out your testicles through your nose and wear them as earrings."

"And that’s why birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it. Let’s do it, let’s fall in love." Spike was singing again, rather loudly, on his side of the property. Buffy insisted they had to split up before she throttled him, so he was relegated to the front yard. Dancing along the edge of a circular fountain, he launched into more of the song.

"The most refinenated dogs do it, when a gentleman calls. Moths in your rugs they do it, what’s the use of my balls? The chimpanzees in the zoo do it, some courageous kangaroos do it. Let’s do it, let’s fall in love."

Buffy shook her head. She could hear Spike singing all the way on the opposite side of the mansion. He’d been acting strangely, so non-vampire like, pretty much since New Year’s Eve, but lately it’s gotten even worse. In a good sort of way. He was just so…happy.

"I know sometimes on the sly you do it, maybe even you and I might do it. Let’s do it, let’s fall in love." Buffy rolled her eyes once again at the song. Only he would know something so wacky.

But then again, love makes you do the wacky. Or, in his case, sing it.

Part Ten

"Hiya, doll," James said, appearing in front of Buffy from nowhere.

Buffy shrieked and fell backwards off her perch on the back porch railing, landing with a thud on the wood. "Ow."

"Sorry, baby. I just stopped by to give you the rumble. Seems you made the trip for biscuits. You can take it on the heel and toe if you want," he told her.

"Um…ok," Buffy gave him a fake smile, having no idea what he’d said. He nodded once and disappeared just as Spike came running around the corner.

"You alright, pet?" he asked, hurrying to her side.

"I’m fine. Mr. Clark popped in to tell us…something. I have no clue," she admitted, climbing to her feet. "Something about biscuits and rumbling feet."

Spike chuckled. "We’ll give your Watcher a call and find out."

"It’s a wash," Buffy said, hanging up the phone in the Chase’s kitchen. "Trick showed up at the warehouse, found our handiwork, including the two vamps we didn’t stake and got the hell out of Dodge."

"That means you can leave," Cordelia said. "Good."

"You’re welcome for saving you from what could have been a horrifying death," Buffy replied sarcastically. "Please be sure to call on us again."

"Sarcasm looks worse on you than that outfit," she responded, heading for the front door. Xander gave Buffy a shrug and trailed after her.

"I just so love being at the receiving end of Cordelia’s tongue," Buffy said to Spike who was leaning casually against a counter.

"Now, that’d be something I’d like to see," he replied with a half grin, and a lewd wink.

"Not in your un-lifetime, sweetie," she said before walking out of the kitchen. He chuckled and followed her.

"I say we shoulda let them have her," Faith said, popping another cookie in her mouth. The group had re-gathered at the library an hour before dawn to say good-bye to James, who said his deadline was when the sun rose. At least, that’s what Willow told them he said.

"Hey, that’s my not-girlfriend you’re slamming," Xander said, stealing the bag from the brunette Slayer.

"Did you guys notice that we missed the Valentine’s Day party at the Bronze?" Willow asked, sitting closely by Oz.

"I’m glad we did," Xander replied. "If it wasn’t for this massacre reenactment thingy, Cordelia still wouldn’t be talking to me."

"Oz, too," Willow said softly.

"Well, I still say Valentine’s Day sucks," Faith said.

"Why is that, Faith?" Giles asked.

"’Cuz I didn’t get any," she replied, sending a flush up her sort-of-Watcher’s face. The others laughed and began to compare Valentine’s Day horror stories.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Angel said, putting his hand on Spike’s shoulder. He shrugged and followed his sire out into the hall. "I’m heading back to LA tonight."

"Good."

Angel grit his teeth to hold back his sharp retort, then went on. "Just take care of her, ok? She’s more fragile than she thinks she is."

"I know," Spike replied.

"I’m still not happy about this, but I’ll let it go. I only wish I knew what she means to you," Angel said, then turned on his heel and left.

Spike watched his sire walk out of the school and into the fading night. "She means everything to me, Angelus," he said quietly in the empty hallway. "She is my soul."

THE END


Chapter 4: The Luck of the Irish