It was the fifth day in a row he’d shown up during the day to work out.

If he kept to the pattern he’d set on previous days, he wasn’t even half way through his work out. Once he finished trying to destroy the large bag, he would go on to other things. Next he’d be hanging by his knees from a rack he’d placed on the wall, doing inverted sit-ups in numbers too sickeningly high to count. Then he’d move to the weight machine he’d brought in and spend a few hours there. Weight machines like that were expensive. Where had he gotten the money to purchase it? Giles wondered. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing he could smuggle out of the shop under his coat, now, was it?

How long could he keep to this schedule? Days, weeks? Giles wasn’t sure how long he could endure listening to the relentless, punishing workouts. He was beginning to regret telling the vampire he was welcome to use the training room whenever he wanted.

Forty-five minutes later, Giles went out to a late lunch just to escape for awhile.

~*~

When he returned an hour later, Spike was still at it. He was on the weight machine now. Perhaps an intervention was in order.

“You look tired, Spike.”

Spike ignored him. Over the last few days, they’d met a few times to discuss the dragon and the research on it that was progressing. Spike was all for charging into the cave and taking his chances, but Giles persuaded him to wait for more information, and Spike had reluctantly agreed. Patience had never bee the vampire’s strong suit. In fact, Giles was well aware that the blond’s impatience had been a great boon to them in the past, allowing them to defeat him, when they may have had less luck if Spike had laid out and stuck to more reasoned plans.

They’d also talked about several other demon problems. They had shared information, and had taken some steps to take care of threats. So far, those steps had consisted almost entirely of Spike stating, “I’ll go tear their heads off then, shall I?” and Giles agreeing to that. But Giles did feel that they were laying the groundwork for a more feasible future working relationship between the vampire and the rest of the group. Giles also had to admit that Spike’s knowledge of the demon world was much vaster than he had expected. He’d always thought vampires, for the most part, stuck to their own kind.

They’d outlined patrolling plans as well; some for Spike alone, and others for the group, who wanted to continue Buffy’s work as much as they could. While remaining business-like, the two had started to relax a little in each other’s company.

Giles found this new, quieter, and more serious minded Spike easier to tolerate, and in general, Spike respected the Watcher, but he was still pretty good at shutting him out when he wanted to.

Like now.

“Willow and Tara have told me you spend several hours each night on the roof outside Dawn’s room, standing watch. You’re here a good part of the day, working out. Are you sleeping at all?”

“Thought I told you once before, Watcher,” he said smoothly, not letting up. Press. Slowly lower. Press. Slowly lower. “Sleep is highly overrated.”

He tried a different tact. “I’m sure you know yourself best. For myself, I find insomnia affects my work – both my physical and mental agility.”

“Your physical agility can be worse than it is now?” Spike snarked, and Giles’ mouth twitched in amusement. Two days ago, he’d temporarily lost his mind and offered to aide Spike in his workouts by bracing the heavy punching bag for the vampire. Five minutes into the workout, feeling he’d narrowly escaped serious internal injuries, he’d retracted the offer.

“You slept well enough when you were living with me,” Giles reminded him. “I distinctly remember snoring was not unusual.” It had only been once, actually. But he had heard snoring. And why would Spike ever snore if he didn’t need to breathe? Giles wondered. For that matter, why did he pant when he was punching the bag, and practice correct breathing techniques when he was lifting?

Spike didn’t pause, but he glared at Giles. “I do not snore, “he said indignantly, proving that the standard response to an accusation of snoring was not limited to humans.

“Yes, well, I think I would be a better judge of that than you. You weren’t lying awake listening to yourself.” Giles could be a bit snarky himself sometimes. “My point is this – I would hate to think your refusal to sleep could in any way affect your ability to properly watch over Dawn when she’s in your care.”

Spike paused, holding the heavily weighted bar up, then he lowered it slowly, and sat up to stare at the other man.

Bingo! Giles thought, congratulating himself. Apparently Dawn was the key in more ways than one.

Spike looked as though he wanted to say something, but then he hesitated, and Giles was sure that what he did say was something altogether different.

“I’ll work on getting more rest then, Watcher.”

Giles studied him carefully. He wanted to press the subject further, but, for some reason, found himself unable to.

“Good,” he approved. “I think we’re ready to go after the dragon,” Giles went on, changing the subject entirely, and Spike’s eyes betrayed his gratitude for a moment before becoming bland.

“Scoobies all researched out, are they?” Spike asked, and Giles once again felt the amusement Spike seemed to almost effortlessly raise in him.

”It would seem so,” he agreed. “Tara’s research suggests that dragons hunt by night, which fits in nicely with the police reports, and that our best time for success would be while it’s still sleeping, or just as it wakes. We thought we’d go tomorrow – late afternoon. Will that pose a problem for you?”

“Not at all,” Spike assured him, explaining how the tunnels running under the city connected directly to the caves, courtesy of one of Sunnydale’s former mayors.

“Yes, Mayor Wilkins,” Giles acknowledged. “Historically, not one of Sunnydale’s finest electoral choices.”

Spike eyed him. There was a story there, he thought.

“I’ll be by, then,” the vampire said. “Four o’clock do?”

“Yes, fine.”

Spike slipped into his Docs, which he had removed for his workout, and picked up his duster, shrugging into it.

“Got a favor to ask, Watcher,” he said.

Giles wondered vaguely why Spike always called him ‘Watcher’ now, when he’d been calling him Rupert – one of very few people in the States that did so – almost as long as he’d known him.

He leaned a hip against the pommel horse casually. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s about the bit. About Dawn,” Spike clarified.

He hesitated. Giles waited.

“She’s worried about having to go live with her father,” he said in a bit of a rush. “Sonofabitch hasn’t even contacted her since – well, even since Joyce died. Gotta admit, it’s naggin’ at me – that he could come in and take my girl away.”

It had nagged at Giles a bit, too.

“She needs to be here. You lot – you’re like her family. Bit’s got friends here, teachers that matter to her. I don’t want her torn away from that.”

He lit another cigarette. Giles wished he’d quit.

“Don’t want her hurt,” he said, blowing out a stream of smoke. “She’s been hurt enough.”

“I can only agree with you on that. However, I’m not sure what I can do.”

Spike took another long drag of his cigarette. “What if it turns out I’m Joyce’s brother?”

Giles’ brow went up.

“Lookin’ for custody of my niece?”

Giles couldn’t help it. He smiled. “I think we’d run into several problems. The first one being Joyce’s mother.”

“She’s alive?” Spike was shocked.

“Yes. And well. Living in Texas.”

“What is she doin’ there?” Spike demanded. “Why isn’t she here with Dawn?”

“That, I don’t know. I believe there was a falling out, some years ago.”

Spike couldn’t keep the anger and disgust from his face. “We are talking about family!” he roared in frustration. “Argh! Humans!” Spike slammed out of the training room and into the shop.

Giles didn’t have to follow him to know he descended directly into the tunnels below. He busied himself wiping down the exercise equipment. He couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was trying to visualize Spike, dressed in a conservative business suit, meeting with lawyers and judges and social workers, trying to gain legal custody of Dawn.

And what is it that you do, Mr. The Bloody?

Kill. Maim. Steal.

Anything else?

Protect little girls. Worry about them. Make them laugh. Sit outside their windows at night, making sure nothing harms them, and to offer comfort should they have a nightmare. Wonder why their human family seems so completely absent.

It was extremely odd, even puzzling, Giles decided, that he had such total trust in Spike when it came to the care and protection of Dawn. He wondered why it should be, but he couldn’t deny that it was.

And he knew with absolute certainly that both Buffy and Joyce had felt exactly the same way.

~*~

“Stay. Please, love, stay here, stay.” The groan faded away as Spike sat up suddenly.

Empty. The crypt was always empty. He’d been awake, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he?

What did it matter? She wasn’t here.

She always slipped away.

And he was alone again.

He was so alone.

He lay back on his bier, and draped his forearm over his eyes.

Buffy.

A few minutes later, he pushed himself up, grabbed his duster, and escaped into the tunnels below.

~*~

Xander couldn’t remember ever really being afraid of Spike since the vampire had been chipped. He’d been angry with him, had sometimes hated him, and once in a while, very rarely, had even shared a few moments of male bonding with him. There was no question though, that for the most part, he found the vampire a grating annoyance. But, since Silicon had become their friend, he hadn’t been afraid of him.

Until a little while ago.

He knew he’d never seen anything like it. And, with his experiences, that was saying something.

He’d seen Spike fight plenty of times. He’d fought against him and alongside him. And he knew that Spike had a reputation in the vampire world as a vicious killer. Angel had been pretty clear about that. Of course, as it turned out, Angel would know, having been his grandsire and mentor. But until tonight, he wasn’t quite sure he’d believed in Spike’s reputation.

Well, he did now. Oh yessiree.

They’d had a plan of sorts. They had hoped to come upon the dragon as it slept. Once they were near enough to it, Willow and Tara would cast a spell to keep it asleep, and Spike could go in for the kill. Dragons could only be killed, Tara believed, by a sword directly into the heart. They knew the sleeping position might be a problem. Willow had spent three days researching ways to make the dragon levitate enough – or at least rearrange its position enough – so that Spike could get a clean thrust to the necessary spot, which, if Tara was correct, would be low, almost between it’s front legs.

It had been a good plan. They’d all agreed on that. Even Spike had nodded his approval. It was becoming a major annoyance to Xander that Spike continued to refuse to speak to anyone except Dawn and now Giles. What was the point? He was used to being annoyed by Spike, but still...

Stupid vampire.

Stupid, scary vampire.

He’d gone wild. There was really no other way to describe it, and wild summed it up pretty well. Completely berserk. Which was an old Norse word for ‘wild warrior’. Now, how did he know that? And why now, and not at some useful moment, like when he was flailing about trying to play Trivial Pursuit with Willow? Which, Xander reminded himself, he should never, ever do.

Spike had led the way to the cavern he had explored earlier in the week. They’d waited, about fifty feet down the passageway, as Giles had gone to check the status of the dragon. Willow and Tara were holding hands, chanting quietly as they mentally prepared to cast the needed spells. He’d been checking his weapons; a long silver sword, mate to the one Spike was carrying, and an axe. Spike had seemed a little edgy. He only noticed it because he’d often admired the vampire’s calm before battle, while he himself was often feeling shaky and scared. Sometimes, it was a damn bitch being the only one without special powers. The vampire had paced ahead of them a short distance, then returned, several times. Xander had seen him take a long swig out of his silver flask, emptying it. The blond had then stared at his hands, making fists, after replacing the flask in the inside pocket of his duster.

“You’re not planning to get drunk, I hope,” Xander had said to him, not even attempting to keep the disgust out of his voice.

Spike ignored him.

God, that was bothering him! He’d much rather put up with the blond’s snarky comments than this unending silence. He hated how it made him feel that Spike didn’t think he was even important enough to acknowledge.

Giles returned, and with him, bad news.

There were two dragons in the cavern. Thankfully, they both appeared to be deeply asleep, and he filled them all in on their locations in the cavern – curled together – and their body positions. But two dragons was one too many.

Giles and Willow started discussing the strength of the spells she and Tara had been working on, and whether or not they could be safely altered at this point to accommodate the changed circumstances. Giles pressed for caution, while Willow insisted she was strong enough to take care of both of them, with only a few small alterations in the spell. Tara looked alarmed, her eyes fixed on her lover, Xander tried to appear concerned and supportive, and Spike was practically bouncing with nervous energy.

When bickering began to break out between Giles and Willow, Spike went his own way. Xander didn’t realize what was happening until he saw Spike charge into the dragon’s lair, and by then it was too late.

The others rushed forward to give what assistance they could, but in the end, they did little beyond stare in amazement and a kind of sick fascination.

Spike was in his element. He seemed invincible, powerful beyond what they had ever seen from him before. He was a blur of movement, incredibly fast, leaping and somersaulting high into the air as he attacked the now awakened dragons with terrifying ferocity.

The first one went down quickly. As soon as it reared back on its hind legs, Spike moved in for the kill, finding the heart unerringly with the first thrust of his sword.

The second one, the male, roared in outrage over the death of its mate, and Spike’s eyes gleamed as he let the beast assimilate the situation.

He’s enjoying this, Xander thought, and it was true.

The thrill of the fight, the glory of the battle, was rolling off of the vampire in waves. This was what he was. A warrior. This is what he was made for. To fight. To maim. To kill. He gloried in the dance, taking risks and chances no sane person would ever take. And all the while, the wide, tongue wagging grin plastered on his face told them all just how much he loved what he was doing.

And then something odd happened. Spike seemed to freeze, a look of shock on his face, and he stumbled, looking for a moment as though he might actually drop his sword.

It only lasted a few seconds, and he was lucky it happened just after he had delivered a harsh blow to the dragon. If the dragon had not been regaining its feet, it almost certainly would have moved in for the kill at that moment of hesitation.

After that, the grin was gone, and Spike finished the huge beast off in a matter of seconds, his sword striking true when he dashed almost under the belly of the monster. He barely got out from under it before it crashed to the floor of the cave.

Spike stood there, chest heaving. He turned to them, seeing them all standing in the mouth of the large cavern with varying degrees of amazement on their faces. He moved toward them calmly, with that smooth flowing walk of his. They all backed away slightly, in order to give him a wider berth, but Spike stopped when he reached them.

Without a word, he reached for a corner of Willow’s sweater, and very casually, he wiped the blade of his sword in its folds, his eyes pinning hers.

No one said a word, and Spike moved off ahead of them, heading back the way they had come.

As they made their way out of the tunnels, Xander kept as much distance between himself and the blond vampire as he could. He had been reminded just now of something he rarely had to be reminded of. But somehow, this event had hammered the point home. Spike was a vampire. He was not human. He was wild and vicious, a killer. Right now, Xander feared him again, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

~*~

Spike had cleaned and replaced his weapons by the time Giles came into the training room.

The Watcher leaned against the wall several feet away from the vampire, and proceeded to clean his glasses. Spike eyed him. Five, four, three, two, one...

“Do you think that was the advisable method of attack?” Giles asked calmly.

“Got the job done, dinit?” the blond countered.

Giles replaced his glasses. “Yes, it did. However, I’m more concerned at the moment with exceeding acceptable levels of risk.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “I wanted to go in days ago. You lot wanted to wait and plan. So I waited. Your plan wasn’t gonna work. Mine did.”

“Yes, “Giles agreed again. “Your methods of fighting were really quite extraordinary. I’ve seen you fight many times, Spike. But never like that. Moreover, your vampire visage never even emerged. Do you have an explanation for that display of power?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably under the Watcher’s steady regard.

“Been working out. You’ve seen me,” he offered.

“Hmmm. You must explain vampire physiology to me sometime, Spike. Humans usually need to work out for far more than a week to show such improvement in their physical prowess. Even more so, I should think, if they were reduced to an almost skeletal state only a couple of months ago.”

Spike remained silent, and Giles realized the vampire wasn’t going to offer him any sort of explanation at all.

“I see,” he murmured. He hesitated, then offered quietly, “Spike, if there’s anything you need to talk about...”

Spike’s surprise showed. He stared at the Watcher for a moment. “Long as you’re askin’ Watcher –”

“Yes?”

“Red.”

“What?”

“When I was fightin’ the dragons, she almost put the kibosh on it.”

“What?” Giles was shocked. “How?”

“Came into my mind. She’s strong, too. I think she was trying to give me a surge of power, but it didn’t quite work that way. Whatever she did almost made me drop my sword.”

“What?” Giles felt like he was losing his ability to say anything else. “I can’t believe – Willow would never deliberately try to ...”

“Not sayin’ it was deliberate, Watcher,” Spike said. “’m jes’ sayin’ what the result was.”

He watched the play of emotions crossing Giles’ face. He’d told the Watcher what happened. Wasn’t much more he could do.

“Look, I’ve gotta go. Promised the bit a movie. In the theater, with popcorn.” He smiled slightly, and shrugged his shoulders. His girl had a habit of making specific demands as recompense for being excluded from certain Scoobie activities. Without any further discussion, Spike left.

He wasn’t overly concerned about Willow. Really didn’t want the bint popping into his head whenever she felt like it, though. Bit unsettling, that. Made him just a bit edgy.

Normally, he’d just stay out of their little Scoobie relationships, let them deal with their own problems. But, as he’d already acknowledged to himself, his respect for the Watcher had grown over the last few weeks. And he’d felt it was something he should mention. Just so the Watcher was aware.

Perhaps he was a bit more upset over the fact that he’d felt a – well, almost a responsibility – to report the incident to the Watcher. He wasn’t part of the soddin’ Scoobie gang, and he didn’t have a bleedin’ responsibility to any of them.

There, he felt a bit better, having gotten that nice and clear in his head.

He went on to pick up Dawn at Harris’ apartment where she’d been staying with Anya, wondering what teen drama she was going to force him to take her to.

~*~

“Do you have a minute, Willow?” Giles asked as everyone was preparing to leave the Magic Box.

The redhead smiled. “Sure!” she replied cheerfully, and Giles was reminded of happier times as she followed him to his office.

“How are you?” he asked. Though he saw a lot of Xander and Anya, he saw less of Willow and Tara. After Buffy’s loss, Tara had left for a couple of weeks to spend some time with her Cousin Jean in Washington State. The trip had been short, though, because both she and Willow were taking two nights classes at the University. Willow also had a summer job at the University library, and her busy schedule was keeping Giles from seeing much of her, or of Tara either. Willow had offered to drop her summer courses to care for Dawn, but, by bringing Spike into the mix, they had managed to keep that from being necessary. Giles felt he had been out of touch with the girls, and he was concerned with how Willow, in particular, was dealing with her best friend’s loss.

“I’m good,” Willow told him. “Busy. Work, summer school, you know, same old, same old.”

“Tara seems completely recovered from her run in with Glory.”

“Yeah,” Willow’s smile revealed her love for the other girl. “She’s doing really well. I don’t think there are going to be any lingering problems. I was worried about that. You know, would she be the same, would she have problems that hung on, or nightmares. But she seems just the same as before.”

Giles smiled at her almost blissful expression. “I’m glad. And you – you’re um, dealing with Buffy’s loss alright?”

Her expression changed, growing solemn. “I miss her. It’s so hard being there in her house every day. I keep expecting to see her every time I turn around. And when I don’t… Yeah, it hurts.”

“I feel the same way whenever I walk into the training room. It’s so empty without her there.” He made a vague movement with his hands. “And having Spike working out in there this last week has felt odd.”

Willow looked down at her hands. “The two of you seem to be spending a lot of time together,” she observed.

Giles looked mildly surprised. “Oh, not really. It’s not like we’re chatting while he’s lifting weights. Just the occasional passing comment. We did talk about the dragon, and some other demon problems. Oh, and we set up some patrolling plans, too.”

“Hey! I have this idea for a series of spells that could keep vampires out of businesses in town. Like the de-invite, only for public places.”

“Really?” Giles was interested.

“Yeah,” her enthusiasm was clearly evident in her voice. “If we alter the wording a little, and make a few minor substitutions in the ingredients –”

“Do you think that’s wise, Willow?” he interrupted. “Magic can be a very tricky thing. And it should be approached with respect and care.”

“I’m fairly confident I can do this, Giles.”

“I don’t mean to discourage you, but you have cut corners occasionally in the past, and the results have sometimes been, er, a bit problematic.”

Willow’s lips tightened a little, and noting it, Giles relented a little.

“Keep working on it by all means. But let’s make sure to test it carefully. I’d like to point out as well, that we don’t seem to have a huge problem with vampires invading local businesses and eating the patrons.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, not a lot…” Willow’s voice trailed off.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” Giles began carefully. “The night of that final battle with Glory, I know you were successful at some mental communication with Spike.”

“Yes,” Willow was cautious suddenly. “I told him to run up the tower – that I would take care of moving Glory’s minions out of the way.”

“Injecting your thoughts into someone else’s mind is a very impressive power, Willow,” he told her, and saw the small smile of pride she allowed herself. “But it’s a power that has to be used with great care. That night, you merely used it to communicate with Spike. You must always use extreme caution to be sure it is never used to affect someone’s actions, to alter their perceptions, or even to influence decisions they make.”

“But if I can mentally persuade a vampire not to kill someone – well, that would be good, wouldn’t it?” She sounded so earnest, so hopeful that this developing power could be a tool for good.

“Is that what you were doing today? Trying to discover if you could affect Spike’s actions? Was it a test?”

“I – what do you mean?”

“Spike told me he felt you in his mind.”

“I – I, no.”

“He didn’t feel you in his mind?”

“I was just trying to add more power to his arm, make it easier for him to kill the dragon.”

“But you saw what happened, didn’t you? We all did. He froze. And if it would have happened just a few seconds later, the dragon would have been able to claw him open.” Giles studied Willow carefully.

“Wouldn’t have killed him,” Willow muttered. “He’s a vampire.”

“Perhaps not,” Giles said, inwardly rather appalled at the lack of concern her tone expressed. “But then the dragon probably would have turned its attention to us.”

She looked like she hadn’t had time to consider that, and Giles was further disturbed.

“Actions have consequences, Willow,” he reminded her. “Often they’re not easily foreseen. And magic – the consequences can be dangerous beyond any imagining.” He sighed. “I just want to caution you to take great care in your magic studies. Every time a component of a spell is altered, even in the smallest way, possible results must be very carefully tested and explored. It’s an exact science, in a way, and the same type of testing should be observed as you would use in, say, chemistry. Your powers have grown tremendously over the years, and you were always a wonderful help to Buffy, and to me. I caution you more for your own safety then for anything else.” He smiled. “I’m really quite fond of you, you know. I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to you.”

Willow studied him carefully. “I promise to take care,” she assured him. “But I’m also going to continue to study and practice magic. I know I can be even more help in the future.”

“Promise me you will use caution.”

“Of course I will,” she promised.

But her tone was light, and after she left, Giles had to admit to himself that he didn’t really feel she had taken anything he’d said to heart.

Perhaps she’d just acted on the spur of the moment, not taking time to carefully consider the possible consequences of her actions. He knew Willow was, at heart, a very good person. But even good people can make errors in judgment.

He was glad Spike had mentioned the incident to him. He needed to spend more time with Willow, try to give her a bit more guidance in her magic studies. Since Buffy’s loss, he’d been lax in several areas.

~*~

Willow lay awake for a long time after Tara had fallen asleep.

Every time she patrolled, every time she dusted a vamp or helped Xander dust one, or fought some other sort of demon or monster, she missed Buffy more. Fighting, going into battle, always left her restless and unable to sleep. It didn’t matter if they were successful or not. Either way, it just made Buffy’s death more real, her absence an ever-growing hole in her life.

Hopefully...

Oh, it was too soon to feel sure of anything.

She could hardly bear to think of how Buffy had died. How they’d all been right there, and they still hadn’t been able to prevent it. Going on without her was so hard. And it just seemed to be getting harder every day.

She’d gone to work, gone to her classes, gone through the motions every day, but sometimes it seemed like Buffy was all she thought about. If only...

She had to be able to do something to fix things. To make things better. If she worked really hard, if she could get the others to follow her lead, maybe she could help prevent any more bad things from happening. They’d all endured enough. Buffy’s death had been the last straw, in a way, the breaking point. She just couldn’t take any more. She didn’t think the others could either.

They’d all lost so much. None of them wanted anything more to happen. If she could just – just keep things under control – she knew she could stop more horrors from being visited upon them, destroying them all piece by piece.

She just needed to make herself stronger, and persuade the others to follow...

She knew she could protect them, if they’d let her.

Willow frowned. She didn’t understand the new relationship that seemed to be springing up between Giles and Spike, and she really didn’t think she liked it. She didn’t want Spike to be a part of the group. His fighting skills were better than anyone else’s, she knew that. But she didn’t think he would ever easily look to her for leadership and that could be a problem. He was like a loose cannon – far, far too difficult to control.