Buffy slowly woke; opening her eyes to slits she turned her head to look at her alarm clock.

“Ugh. Another happy working day awaits,” she sighed, stretching before sitting up.

“About time you woke up,” an all too familiar voice said by the door and she let out a surprised huff as she in a second became fully awake.

“Spike!” she snapped, pulling up her covers without thinking, and though she wasn’t naked in any way.

This movement received a crooked smile from the vamp and a gleam hinting in his blue eyes.

She ignored it and held on to the sheets as though her life depended on it. Maybe it did. Her legs felt like jello and once more he had managed to make her heart gallop away like a racehorse out of rhythm. Not a good sign, and NOT a good start of the morning.

“Is nothing sacred to you?” she asked, pushing the beat-beat-beating of her ticker out of her thoughts.

He simply cocked an eyebrow at that question and she shook her head a little.

“I’m just saying that YOU’RE not exactly the first thing I want to see in the morning,” she elaborated.

He looked at her. Those words stung more than she could even imagine. But he supposed that she didn’t bother with imagination, got enough of the wicked and weird in her line of work for it to be let into her head… He supposed he fit nicely into that category too. To his astonishment she now said:

“That didn’t come out right… I mean, I don’t mean that I DO want you to be the first thing I see in the morning, but you being here now is all right. Or, no, it isn’t. I mean…” she trailed off, shaking her head a little.

Sometimes he wondered how she could ever evoke even the slightest fear when battling a monster twice her own size. He couldn’t hold back a laugh at her word struggling and the look in her eyes became indignant. He smothered the laughter quickly and simply smiled a little.

How precious the moments that lasts, he thought to himself as it took her two seconds to bounce out of her little stutter and put herself back on b.i.t.c.h mode by saying:

“You know, I would really LOVE to know what the hell you’re doing here at this time of day.”

Then she threw the sheets aside, and got out off bed.

The movement brought back a memory of not so long ago when she had done it exactly the same but in HIS bed… Of course, she’d been invisible at that particular time, but he never was too picky about the details.

She walked up to her closet, opening it and rummaging around for what to wear she tried to focus her thoughts at the task at hand: work. But the way things were between her and her ex-lover she found it hard to concentrate.

She had made up her mind, why couldn’t he accept that? Why couldn’t he just make it easier on himself and just stay away from her?

Hah! she mocked herself in her head. Have you already forgotten that he’s never been the bow-down-and-exit-silently type?

When he began answering her question she tried to hold back the much too pleasant shivers running up her spine at the sound of his voice. Her body hadn’t forgotten how that voice had made it respond not so very long ago.

“Well, I forgot something last night and I came back to fetch it…” he explained.

Annoyed with the failing of killing off the shivers once and for all she slammed the door to the closet shut with a loud bang. She could hear the quiet rattling of clothes falling off their hangers and then she met Spike’s eyes, they were looking at her calmly but quizzically.

“Well,” she said, throwing the clothes she had chosen on her bed and disregarding the questions in his gaze. “Get it and then get out, would you? I’m busy, need to get Dawn off to school and I need to get off to work …”

“No, you don’t,” Willows voice interrupted her and Buffy turned to the doorway. “Morning!” Willow added with a smile.

“Um, yeah, GOOD morning,” Buffy agreed with a glance at Spike who returned it with a little smile.

“Sorry, pet, didn’t mean to wake you up on the wrong side,” he said with a bow that held more sarcasm than his voice ever could before taking a step back into the hallway outside her door. “And I would get out of your hair, I really would,” he added. “Specially since you asked so nicely. But see, I was invited to stay. Asked actually… So, I’ll meet ya downstairs, eh?”

And then he walked away, leaving Buffy to turn her questions to Willow.

“What was that all about?” Buffy asked, wanting nothing more than to just get him out of her closest vicinity, that was: her house; this seeming to all of a sudden be a ridiculously difficult task.

“Well,” Willow said, taking a step inside and closing the door behind her, noticing that her friend wanted to get dressed. She walked up to the bed and sat down at the edge of it as Buffy started to change. “See, Dawn woke me up really early this morning, she was babbling about some kind of mirror and I don’t know what… I was kinda groggy. Anyways, I went with her downstairs and she told me the whole story over breakfast. Well, she didn’t wanna make you all mad, so we didn’t go down to take a look in the basement, but she was really excited… Really, REALLY excited… And she really insisted that we’d get started with researching the thing right now so that we’re… hopefully… done when she gets back from Lisa’s,” Willow finished just as Buffy pulled a sweater over her head.

Right, Buffy thought. It’s Saturday, no school…

And the promise Dawn had made to help paint one of her few friends’ room over the weekend slowly came back to her.

“Okay, Dawn not wanting to make me mad, that’s a first…” she then mumbled. “Guess she really liked that mirror,” she added, shrugging thoughtfully. “Ah well. I still don’t see what that has to do with me not having to get off to work? I can’t stay home just ‘cause of that, Will.”

Willow was looking at her with a slightly furrowed brow as she replied:

“No, I know. There was a message on the machine saying you have the day off, they are, um, sanitizing the whole restaurant or something… Okay, I HAVE to ask, are you dipping seriously into the sea of making a fashion statement or are you actually just planning to wear that?”

Buffy looked at her, wondering, then turned to the mirror.

She let out a low “agh!” as she laid eyes on the horrid combination of black leather pants and one of her cozy sweaters, which she hadn’t even known still existed in her wardrobe, it being a weird shade of brown and all, reflecting back at her.

“’Agh!’ is really not too strong an expression here,” Willow agreed as Buffy pulled the sweater over her head, tossing it towards the garbage bin and missing it terribly.

She opened the door to her closet again, a heap of clothes falling out at her feet. She laughed a little.

“I don’t know where my head is at today,” she mumbled as she bent down and picked up the clothes to put them back on their hangers.


***


“Why did you ask Spike to stay?” Buffy asked as they approached the stairs, her now in a little nicer attire of a cream white shirt. “What can he do? The mirror isn’t alive is it?”

Willow smiled and shook her head.

“Not as far as I know, I haven’t seen it yet though, Spike and Xander are bringing it up as we speak.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Great, another let’s-fight-with-words bravado from those two is JUST what I need to make this morning complete,” she remarked as they descended the stairs into the hall.

Willow looked empathetically at her as they entered the living room where the sound of Xander’s voice met them.

“If you put it down a little more over here then the effect of it will be much better… but on the other hand…”

“Oh, just cut to the bloody chase, monkey boy, so I can put the thing down!” Spike cut in, sounding more than a little annoyed.

“Okay, right there is perfect. Now, maybe you should just make like a tree and leave,” Xander pointed out, almost immediately regretting his rather childish choice of words and even more so when the bleached set of fangs set the mirror down and turned to him, the smirk on his face completing the sinking feeling in Xander’s stomach.

Idiot! I’m an idiot! he lashed out at himself in his head, meeting the vamp’s gaze as steady as he could possibly bring himself to.

“Well, maybe you should just act like a good little human and drop dead,” Spike retorted and turned his head to see Willow and Buffy, both of them with a sour expression on their faces.

He looked at Buffy. Damn, why did she have to do that to him? His defenses were nothing when it came to her, nor were his supernatural powers, that was for sure. She was simply irresistible. Especially with her hair not really brushed through and traces of sleep still evident in her eyes. He tilted his head to one side, eyeing her absorbedly.

Buffy felt tingles start spreading in her stomach under his gaze but she violently pushed them aside. Sure, she wanted him, but in the wrong way. In- the-wrong-way!

She broke eye contact, man, was she doing that a lot lately, and turned to the mirror.

“Look,” Willow suddenly spoke up. “We need all the help we can get if we’re going to figure out where this mirror come from, or from WHO! I mean, both. And so I suggest you boys kiss and make up.”

Xander stared at her with an Excuse Me?-look slammed into every feature of his face and Spike snorted, shaking his head.

“Look, Red, I would love to, really,” he said. “But I can’t, buggering chip’ll smoke my brain if I bite him,” he said, pointing to the back of his head.

Willow turned to him, frowning.

“Hey, who said anything about biting?” Xander exclaimed, aghast.

“Kiss of the vampire there, mate,” Spike answered him coolly. “Or would you rather…”

“NO!” Xander interrupted, taking a few steps away.

“Just stop it for one moment, PLEASE!” Buffy cut in. “There will be no biting OR kissing what so ever.”

Spike was about to grab the too tempting opportunity to make a remark at that last statement. But then Buffy put a hand up to her eyes, rubbing them so tiredly; the sudden sadness in her posture made him bite his tongue.

“I’ll make you some breakfast, Buffy,” Willow said with a stroke on her friend’s shoulder.

“That’s okay, Will,” Buffy answered her, removing her hand and in stead clasping her arms around her waist. “I’m okay. I’m not too hungry anyway.”

“You need to eat something,” Willow pressed gently. “Please, let me make you something. I’ll make something light…”

“Will, grown woman here, saved the world a few times a while back… I’m really okay. Okay?” Buffy interrupted kindly, stopping her friend as the latter moved to go into the kitchen.

Willow looked at her hesitantly before nodding slowly. It wasn’t like she could tie Buffy down in a chair and force-feed her anyway. She’d make sure she got something in her once she asked for it.

“Let’s start up with this mirror business,” Buffy then said, trying to feel as much on the go as she sounded. “We should go to the Magic Box and do some digging. Willow, you…”

“…can do the surfing thing I do so well?” Willow filled in her sentence and Buffy smiled a grateful smile as Willow went to get her laptop from the hall.

“Xander, you come with me to the Magic Box,” Buffy said and then she realized something. “Where’s Tara?” she asked.

“She’s coming,” Willow answered her, coming back from her mission, her bag in hand. “She just had some stuff she needed to take care of first. She’ll be here.”

“Great, then could you send her over to the shop when she gets here? I’m sure we’ll need all the heads we can get,” Buffy said and Willow nodded, plugging in the computer.

Spike listened to her giving out orders even though she masked them as requests. He couldn’t help but rather admire that quality. He supposed a true leader should be able to make his subjects loyal through love…instead of how it had always been for him – through fear. He sighed a little.

“And what about me, Slayer?” he asked as Buffy seemed done with her distribution of commands.

“You should go home, and sleep. Day and night are kind of reversed with your kind, remember?” she answered him, feeling a sting near her heart as his eyes grew vulnerable with hurt for a moment before turning hard.

“No, I don’t think so, love. I wanna help, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna get any sleep lying thinking about what I…Well, if I could’ve been of help…to Dawn,” he finished. “Besides, there’s something about this thing… I’m sure I’ve seen it before somewhere, I just can’t figure it out…”

Buffy looked at him looking at the mirror. Sometimes his affection for Dawn was so clear that she thought she could touch it. She wondered if he realized that. And she couldn’t help but wonder why she couldn’t see his love for her, which he so blatantly proclaimed whenever he got the chance, in the same way.

A feeling filled her which she didn’t quite understand, and she was so sick of always having to deal with her own inner war as well as the one endlessly going on around her that she shut it out.

She just couldn’t deal with that right now.

Spike studied the mirror frame. If only he could place it, place where he had seen it! Then he looked at the mirror glass, it was a little darker than most he’d seen, he noticed. He looked closer. Small particles the color of gold seemed to be melted in it as well… Strange. It sure was a work of art.

Then he looked up and where he should have met his own eyes he saw nothing but the reflection of the room behind him. Nothing new, but this time it somehow felt different. He almost wished…

No. That thought had no place in his head. Though it had been there before.

Right after sunrise when he was half asleep that wish had entered his mind, and he had wished it for her sake. Wished to see the sun again, see the world in daylight, and see his reflection.

He shook the thought off, annoyed with the whelp he was becoming.

“Fine,” her voice then said, and he turned back to her. “If it’s for Dawn,” she added.

She waited for his reply and he looked at her, penetrating as always, and then he nodded slowly.

“It is,” he said.

Chapter Four
 

Two hours later Tara joined Buffy, Xander and Spike at the Magic Box. Willow had stayed at the house, too engulfed in her own searching to even think about moving.

And Tara hadn’t wanted to ask her if she wanted to come with her and join the rest of the Scoobies, she was happy to see Willow so thoroughly enjoying being back in the loop of the wonders of electronics, instead of missing that part of her laid at rest with needing to do the magic stuff…

Tara had a right to be happy about it, but ‘laid at rest’ was the wrong term to use.

Willow got up off the couch, feeling that now so familiar gnawing start in the core of her spine just to travel up her back and into her shoulders, down her arms and beam out into her hands and fingers. The addiction was still too strong to ignore and she started pacing.

What had brought it on this time was a page taking forever to come up on the screen, what almost always brought her close to the edge was if the white page with ‘Unable to find’ or ‘Error’ came up instead of what she was looking for.

The blue horizontal line at the bottom of the screen moved teasingly slow and she turned away from it, continuing to pace.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, annoyed, leaving the computer and walking into the kitchen. “I’ll just… make myself something to eat. And then…the page will be up!” she instructed herself.

Then she walked up to the cabinet holding the bread, grabbing the bag and pulling it down she simultaneously opened the door to the cabinet holding jelly and peanut butter.

As she pulled out a drawer to grab a knife for the toppings of her sandwich she heard the front door open and then close with a loud bang.

“Buffy?” she called out.

“No,” Spike answered. “It’s just me.”

Willow turned to the door leading into the kitchen from the hallway as the vamp entered, smoking blanket in one hand. She couldn’t suppress a smile.

“That blanket…” she said, dipping the knife in the jelly jar and starting to spread a large quantity of the red mush on one of her bread pieces which she had placed on a plate. “Trusted friend by now, huh?” she finished and he looked down on it, then smiled, a little tentatively, back and nodded.

“I s’pose so,” he answered and she smiled wider.

“Hmh,” she said. “You should get another though. That one is getting some serious holes in it. Wouldn’t want to burn yourself.”

Now he stared at her for a moment, then asked:

“What’s with the all-friendly, not-at-all-on-the-edge attitude, Red?”

She shrugged, scraping of as much jelly as she could from the knife against the jar’s edge before moving it to the peanut butter and scooping out a huge blob of it.

“Woah, go easy there,” Spike advised with a slight smile, still waiting for an answer.

Willow spread the peanut butter out with a twist of her wrist, put the knife down, smashed the two pieces of bread together and then turned to him.

“What do you think makes a man a man?” she asked before taking a bite out of her sandwich, an expression of pure enjoyment at its taste was mixed with a serious waiting-for-an-answer one.

The question took Spike off guard and he looked rather surprised at her. But knowing her, even if it wasn’t very well and mostly based on loose observing, he knew that she usually didn’t ask a question out of the blue without having given it some serious thought. So why was she asking HIM this?

“Eh… “ he started, throwing the blanket on a stool and leaning against the wall behind him. “Honestly I dunno if I’m qualified to answer that… Been a while since I was one, and all, I mean.”

Willow chewed, swallowed, took another bite and chewed and swallowed that one as well before replying.

“There was a time when you scared me, Spike. When I couldn’t be in the same room as you without feeling a kind of chill down my spine, thinking of WHAT you were and WHAT you had done…” her voice was slow and thoughtful as she continued. “Then, last summer, everything was so upside down. Buffy was gone and none of us could really deal with that, least of all me I guess… But even though you dealt with your own grief you somehow managed to do something none of us others really knew how to do…”

She looked at him; he realized he had stopped breathing at these words. He met her gaze, needing to know what she meant and hoping it showed in his eyes. He didn’t know what was wrong with him NOW but he couldn’t seem to open his mouth.

She smiled faintly before taking another chunk of her sandwich, of course chewing and swallowing before speaking up again.

Her voice was almost soft as she continued:

“You somehow shouldered Dawnie’s grief as well. You protected her, Spike. You loved her, I guess, in your own way. And whether or not you realized it, she depended on you from that very first moment after we saw Buffy… gone, when you were crying as much as the rest of us, and you walked up to Dawn and you held her. She is still depending on you, that’s for sure, but in another way… You’re like a brother to her now, and I don’t know if you’ve realized this but most of the time you act like one too. I guess that’s why I’m not scared anymore…”

“Chip got nothing to do with it then?” he asked wryly and she smiled the brightest smile she had ever turned his way.

“Of course the chip has SOMETHING to do with it… But I know I can trust you not to… I don’t know; just stand by while someone’s getting hurt. See, the Spike that came to Sunnydale with Drusilla would have probably just taken off, or done nothing in the way you have. But you didn’t. Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, I’m not freaked out by you anymore, Spike… I’m not so focused on the ‘what’ of things but at the WHY. And the reason you were the kind of vampire you were before was because of Drusilla’s bad company…and your demon, but let’s skip that,” she said hurriedly, smiling briefly before continuing. “The reason you are the kind of vampire you are now is because you choose to, and other aspects too I suppose,” she hesitated there, looking at him for a moment before coming to some sort of decision not to touch the subject of his often-stated love for Buffy. “Anyways, the way you are around Dawn… I just think that makes you qualified to answer my question,” she finished, biting into her sandwich once more.

He took everything she had just said in, let it sink slowly, nestling into his thoughts.

The demon in him was wailing at the fact of her not fearing him, demanding audience to come out and scare the living hell out of the witch. But he shrugged at that thought, almost laughed at it. Yeah, that’d be a great way to alienate himself from the Scoobies for all eternity, wouldn’t it? And from Buffy…

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. Then opened them again, looking at her. She was Buffy’s best friend. This girl that had been a geek and then a witch on a power trip and now…

“That was bloody deep, Red…” he mumbled, not knowing exactly what to say, then he added: “Did you mean it?”

Willow looked slyly at him for a moment, with a sudden hint of laughter in her eyes. Then she nodded firmly.

“Yes,” she answered him simply.

He tried to push down the slightly warm feeling starting to circle in his chest.

Bloody hell, am I gonna start crying like the perfect little monkey boy now or something? he thought wretchedly, and still a smile started to curl his lips.

“Well then,” he said. “What makes a man a man? That’s a tough question… I guess you could say… “ He thought for a moment longer and the answer was out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop it: “The people who care for him…if they can look up to him, if they can trust him.”

Willow eyed him closely.

“Good answer,” she said.


***


Close to nine o’clock that evening a tired group of people walked through the door of the house. Willow was still in front of the computer; she had been there ever since Spike had left that afternoon with the diaries he had come to get.

She had felt rather strange actually venting her thoughts to the vampire, but she had had them for a little while and the way he sometimes seemed to walk on egg shells, even if that meant stomping on them as hard as he could to annoy everybody else, had finally gotten to her. There was a strange kind of bond between their strange little ensemble of beings, and she had wanted him to know that no matter what she respected him for the affection he showed Dawn.

She looked up as the gang walked in.

Xander threw himself down on the couch with an exhausted grunt, and then he smiled at her.

“Hey, Will,” he said and she smiled back.

“Nothing?” Buffy asked as she came up to stand beside her.

“Well, we talked fifteen minutes ago, remember? Didn’t have anything then, don’t have any more now,” Willow answered, not quite able to hold back the impatience in her voice.

A whole day in front of the computer did that to her, she supposed.

Buffy put a hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry, Will. I guess we’re all kinda tired.”

Buffy herself was so tired she felt she could just sleep standing. Dear God, how she hated the books. And now patrolling beckoned.

Yay for best way to spend a day off from work, she thought sarcastically in her head as her eyes met Spike’s.

He had been acting weird ever since he got back with the diaries Tara had requested. Practically grinning at her as soon as their eyes met. She had wanted to ask him what the whole thing was about all day and now she was too tired to stay away from the subject anymore. She walked towards the kitchen, shooting him one glance and he immediately understood, following her.

“What, Slayer? Up for a little midnight ‘snacking’?” he asked as she turned to him.

She smiled a humorless smile.

“It’s not midnight,” she stated. “And the ‘snacking’ I think we both know is over and done with,” she added and he sighed, shrugging.

“Can’t blame a bloke for trying,” he mumbled, then put on the smug face she knew so well and added: “So, is there a reason for this little meeting or are you just set on tempt and destroy?”

She didn’t avert her gaze from his this time, not for a second, but her insides started tumbling with something that felt close to laughter.

Did he HAVE to make jokes like that?

“My reason,” she said, with effort controlling the emotion threatening to, in this instance, reveal its ugly head, “is that you have been grinning the whole day and it’s driving me crazy! So, could you please stop it?”

He adopted a serious expression at her words, nodding his understanding, looking as though he was thinking her request over. Then he said:

“No,” before turning around and walking back into the living room.

“Spike!” she hissed after him, but he ignored her and walked in to sit in the armchair by the couch.

She followed him reluctantly, and as she entered the room he turned to her, the grin slapped across his face once more.

How I would like to BREAK it off! she thought, immediately the image of a fallen down building and soft sunlight hinting through the cracks between the bricks came into her head and her eyes widened a little as she quickly shook it off. Oh, can’t he just LEAVE Sunnydale? she now thought, her eyes at him as he started to engage in that non-stop bickering he and Xander had going. Everything would be easier if he just left without looking back!

Then the front door opened and a paint stained but laughing Dawn came in with Tara, who had picked her up from Lisa’s.

“And THEN we almost feel off the ladder ‘cause he scared us so bad!” Dawn said and Tara laughed with her.

“What? Who scared you?” Buffy asked worriedly, not picking up on the ever so precious laughter and taking a few steps towards her sister.

“Oh, nothing like THAT!” Dawn discarded her anxiety with a smile as Tara and her came into the living room. “Lisa’s dad has this chronicle disease with scaring people when they least expect it, and no, not the kind where his body changes into something disgusting, he only jumps out and screams ‘booh!’. You know, the halloweeny kinda thing. Well, I dunno if it’s REALLY a disease,” she added, throwing her back pack down on the floor and walking over to Spike to sit at one of the arms of the chair. “I mean, that’s just what Lisa calls it,” she added with another laugh and Buffy stared at her, rather amazed.

It had been a long time since she had seen Dawn so happy.

Then her sister bent down and gave Spike a big hug, him whispering something in her ear that made her smile even wider, the gesture making something twitch near Buffy’s heart and she almost labeled it as jealousy, but then it was gone and she didn’t bother. Dawn now jumped to her feet and skipped over to throw herself on the by now half asleep Xander.

“Ouuu,” he wailed as she landed on his stomach and then he started tickling her.

Buffy smiled at the sight.

Dawn broke free with a scream of cheerfulness and went over to Willow, who smiled at her.

“Going up to bed?” Willow asked and Dawn shook her head.

“No, I wanna know everything about the mirror first,” she answered before bending down to give her a hug. “Thank you,” Willow heard her whisper close to her ear.

The Wicca smiled to herself, knowing exactly what she meant.

“Ah, he had it coming, vamp or no,” she answered and she could feel Dawn smile against her cheek before the latter pulled away and straightening her back.

“So,” Dawn said, the expectation high in her eyes as she continued, “what have you found out about the mirror?”

Buffy sighed inwardly, she didn’t know how to tell her sister that they had spent practically twelve hours at the Magic Box and come up with nothing.

“We only know that it’s old, niblet,” Spike suddenly said and everybody’s eyes were turned to him.

The sparkle in Dawn’s eyes faded considerably at learning this fact, but some of it was still there.

“Oh, and how do we know that?” Xander asked, sitting up. “You found something and didn’t tell us?”

Spike smiled.

“No,” he then answered, still turned to Dawn. “BUT I have seen it before and it’s so long ago that I can’t really remember, and so the conclusion: it’s pretty bloody old.”

Xander backed off with a sigh, leaning back against the cushions of the couch.

Buffy turned to Dawn.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find anything…” she said tryingly and Dawn smiled a little, nodding.

“I know,” she stated and then turned to the mirror. “It’s just…it’s SO pretty. I don’t want it to be in the basement like forever!”

“It won’t be,” Tara said, reassuringly.

She had slowly made her way across the room to where Willow was seated.

Then Dawn suddenly gasped. Buffy looked at the slightly scared expression on her face and then she turned to the mirror.

“What did you see?” Buffy asked, eyes now at Dawn.

“I…I…” Dawn mumbled. “I don’t know, really… I-it looked like…another room.”

Buffy turned her head back to the mirror, now observing it keenly as she heard both Xander and Spike getting to their feet and Willow slowly standing as well.

“Another room?” Xander asked slowly. “Okay, there goes the hope of this mirror, having no REAL history,” he emphasized the ‘real’ with a glare at Spike, “making it completely normal.”

Spike glared back, then just directed his eyes back at the artifact.

Suddenly he saw it too; a brief glimpse of another room appearing underneath the surface of the glass. The others all drew a simultaneous breath as well and he understood that they had all seen it this time.

“What’s happening?” Dawn mumbled as the mirror started to grow darker.

“Let’s smash it!” Xander exclaimed taking a step forward, but Spike reached out a hand and grabbed a firm hold of his arm, holding him back without releasing the mirror with his eyes.

“No…” he said in a low voice. “Just hold on a minute…”

“In a minute we’ll all be DEAD!” Xander said, turning to the vampire. “Haven’t you been a part of this gang long enough to KNOW that?”

“Hey,” Buffy said, her eyes on the mirror as well. “The only one dying on these occasions seem to be yours truly, so let it go and… I think something’s happening.”

The mirror glass was so dark it looked black, but there were small scatters of light in it.

Suddenly a wave seemed to gently flow through it and in the next moment a delicate shoe with a matching foot took a step out of it, putting itself down on the floor in front of the frame.

Spike let Xander’s arm go, Xander now too mesmerized with what was happening right before his eyes to even notice, then he took a few steps forward. Buffy registered Spike walking past her, then that he had stopped, but her eyes still wouldn’t budge from the mirror.

The flow of the blue skirt of a lady’s dress followed the foot and then all of a sudden the upper body of a young woman. The woman took yet another step and left the mirror standing behind her back, the glass now slowly going back to its normal neutral color.

The dress she was wearing was absolutely stunning in blue velvet that was low cut at the neck, showing her milky white skin and the fabric flowed gently from her hips, surrounding her feet and spreading on the floor. She was looking down, her eyes evidently closed, and her arms hung at her sides.

Her dark hair was put up in a pretty do on her head and around her neck a little chain of silver with some kind of charm, which none of them really could see, glittered.

Spike took another step forward and at the movement all of the others seemed to break out of their hypnosis.

Before they had a chance to really react the woman slowly lifted her head.

Her face was common but pretty nonetheless, her eyes were striking though; as blue as the sky and the color in them enhanced by that of her dress. They searched around the room for a moment and then they locked on Spike.

Buffy stared at the lady before her, and then followed her gaze to the vampire.

“Sarah?” he suddenly said slowly.

The woman first started to look relieved and then an expression of pain shot up in her face as she put one hand tightly on her stomach.

“William,” she sighed and then she dropped un-conscious to the floor.

And what hit Buffy the most was the absolutely stricken expression growing on Spike’s face

It hardly took a second before Spike was at the woman’s side, lifting her in his arms with his eyes darting around at the rest of them.

Buffy had the name of the young lady ringing in her head out of tune with the silent repeating of the vampire’s human one, the way the woman had spoken it, under her breath and close to a whisper, before collapsing in a heap on the floor.

Sarah…? William… Sarah…? William…

It went on and on and she didn’t notice that the others were moving around her, more or less making way for Spike as he swiftly carried the unconscious stranger to the couch, carefully setting her down and then kneeling beside her, his eyes on her face and the look of shock and confusion that had hit Buffy like a sledgehammer only a few minutes earlier still clear on his features.

“Buffy,” Dawn said, worry in her voice and Buffy turned to her slowly, trying to make the echoing stop.

Her head was starting to get more and more messed up. Maybe she really WAS crazy to think that this could be real, ANY of it. Maybe all of it was just some bad trip to her subconscious, a place she had made up one day just so the darker part of her could somehow play a cruel and twisted joke on that part of her that needed the light. And now she had spent years and years trying to fight her way back to where she had been before Sunnydale, before the all too extraordinary everyday of her Slayer life began, back to reality and her family. Back home.

Then she felt Dawn tug at the arm of her shirt and she lifted her gaze to look at her sister.

Her sister, her blood, the Key.

She almost wanted to turn and run, run away as fast as she could and never look back. But then she met Dawn’s eyes, the look in them frightened and questioning as they cautiously held hers. And something clicked inside of Buffy, something she hadn’t felt in a long time started creeping slowly in her chest. She recognized it straight away. It was that pure intuition that she had been born with but hadn’t discovered until she fully embraced the Slayer side in her.

The intuition told her simply that she was who she chose, and she had made her choice looking into her mother’s eyes that day at the Asylum, her mother’s voice had been the one to guide her back to who she couldn’t deny being. And as this became clear to Buffy she knew something even more important, she knew she was done wishing she was someone else.

Looking into Dawn’s eyes the revelation of not only knowing, but also feeling where she belonged crept side by side with that familiar intuition and she couldn’t hold back a faint smile.

She had been dreaming nightmares for a week. About her parents huddled by the side of her at the Asylum, her eyes staring straight ahead and the doctor regretfully announcing that she once more was lost to them; her parents sobbing and then the scenario repeating, over and over like a broken record. Waking her up in a cold sweat and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to do anything but sleep…

But something had seemed so wrong with the picture of the Asylum… It had been so drained of color, black and white almost. Sculpted. And she had felt more at a loss the brief moments her brain had entered that realm, seeing and speaking to her since long lost mother and watching her parents actually together, than she had ever felt since she came back from the grave.

The wish of an easier life had gotten the better of her, and she had let it. All that was past now, all of it.

She straightened her back without thinking as she pulled herself out of her thoughts, the worry and fright in Dawn’s eyes now having given way for that of watchful concern.

“Are you all right?” Dawn asked in a low voice and Buffy drew a breath, looking around her a little at the familiar things of her home as if seeing them in a new light and then she smiled, nodded and embraced her sister.

“Thanks to you,” she said and Dawn looked a little confused but relieved none the less as she hugged her sister back.

“Me? What’d I do?” she asked and Buffy shook her head a little.

“Nothing… I just… I love you, Dawnie,” she said in a heartfelt tone and Dawn stared at her for a brief second before answering:

“I love you too, Buffy.”

“Bloody hell, what’s the matter with her?” Spike’s voice interrupted their little moment and the two turned to the assembly by the couch, Spike now at his feet looking frustrated at Willow as she bent down to examine the woman, still immobile on the couch.

Buffy looked at the lady, Sarah, and then at Spike who was restlessly combing his short blonde strands with one hand, scratching the back of his head before repeating the movement.

She looked away and directed her gaze at Willow, who straightened her back turning to Spike.

“I don’t know…” Willow said slowly. “Honestly she just seems exhausted, her heart beat is steady and she’s breathing fine… Not that I’m an EXPERT but I would say that with some sleep she’ll wake up to be her …old…self again.”

With that statement Spike felt everybody’s eyes being turned to him. He didn’t look up, he didn’t know exactly what to say to them. It wasn’t like he had gone around expecting his past to come knocking on the door one day. Or, in this case, come stepping out of a bloody mirror.

“Bollocks,” he mumbled as he looked down at her. “What are you doing here…?”

“I think we all would like to know that,” he suddenly heard Buffy’s voice behind him and he rolled his eyes before raising his head to meet her gaze. “Who IS she?” Buffy asked.

“What if I say it’s nothing to you?” he asked nonchalantly and she crossed her arms over her chest, starting to look angry.

“Because by some fluke of good luck that mirror she just happened to step through was sent and ADDRESSED to me,” Buffy replied pointing a finger at herself. “And since this whole thing took place in MY living room I think I have a right to know what the hell is going on!” she finished, her voice slightly raised and with a look at him bearing a challenge to try to persuade her otherwise.

He wondered if she realized she was looking at him like that. She should know he never could resist a challenge.

“Well, MAYBE I could just say to hell with all that and then LEAVE with my lady here?” he suggested with a nod towards the woman, him trying to stay calm but his voice sounding louder than he had planned.

“You bloody hell WON’T, William!” she almost yelled at him and when the short echo of her words died out silence spread among the people in the room.

Buffy’s heart was beating hard in her chest even before she uttered that sentence, but now it slowed down until she thought it would stop. She swallowed; her eyes still in Spike’s and his blue showing surprise with a hint of growing mockery. She didn’t want to look around at the others. Not only had she adopted his damn expression, but she had also used that NAME!

She shook her head a little.

“I mean: Spike,” she said and he couldn’t help but smile a little. “And… Oh, don’t look so God damn smug!” she exclaimed, turning around and walking out of the room into the kitchen.

Tara’s eyes followed the Slayer as the latter quickly disappeared from view, she held back a smile, not wanting to take sides but feeling it difficult not to see the forest for all the trees. She knew that the reason Buffy all of a sudden was Ms. Self-Conscious had really nothing to do with the fact that her friends had heard her use the well known swearing as well as the vamp’s human name, it was because HE had. And the sentence with which her friend had exited just made that so much clearer to her.

She was sure the Slayer did not see it that way, though. She didn’t realize that her friends would probably just shake the swearing thing off as her having spent too much time patrolling and whatnot with the vamp, his language sticking to some part of her brain being inevitable. And the use of his name, well, hadn’t the mysterious girl just uttered it?

Tara still had it lingering in her head, that was for sure. The way the girl had said it, so softly and as though she had used it so many times before on him had left quite an in pact on Tara and now she turned her eyes to Spike, who was looking down on the lady once more.

“Spike…” Dawn said ever so carefully. “I really hate it when you fight. Couldn’t you…? I’ll- …we’ll stay with your…friend. Please,” she pleaded and he smiled a little.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll talk to her, but I won’t apologize for saying that this is none of your business, ‘cause it’s not,” he added looking around at the person’s in the room as if to underline that last statement so that they’d all keep away from asking.

Then he walked around the coffee table in two big steps and went to the kitchen.

Buffy pushed the drawer containing silver wear shut with her hip and turned around with a bunch of spoons in her hand just as Spike entered the kitchen.

She froze for a moment, looking at him; he could see she didn’t seem angry anymore, only annoyed. Then she put the spoons down on the counter and with one look that told him to get out she turned to the cabinet behind her, in the corner of the kitchen by the refrigerator, and opened it with a hard tug at the handle.

He studied her back, memories of all the things he had done with her over the stretch of a few months flowing into his brain, filling it, filling him.

“Buffy…” he said and she spun around, her eyes once more signaling him to leave her alone.

But he couldn’t, and he knew she knew that.

“I’m …sorry,” he suddenly found himself saying. “I’m not saying that you don’t have a right to know… It’s just… It’s personal.”

The look in her eyes shifted to disbelieving as she finally opened her mouth and spoke.

“Personal?” she asked, starting to walk towards him. “Personal?! Well, isn’t that something we all wish we could use as an excuse? It just so happens that I don’t believe you. I don’t think that’s the whole reason behind this whole avoiding-the-subject thing you’ve got going here, Spike. So, why don’t you just tell me and get it over with?”

She finished with a defiant gleam in her eyes, standing right in front of him now and looking like she wouldn’t move one inch even if the house came crashing down around her.

How he loved her at that moment, how clear his feelings were, and how it hurt that she just didn’t believe him, that she couldn’t see…

He hid these thoughts behind the mask he had become so accustomed to around her, smiled arrogantly at her and then shrugged a little.

“Oh, so now we’re back to Spike?” She only furrowed her brow slightly and he tilted his head a little before continuing: “And you’ve suddenly decided you know me, love?” he asked this slowly and her eyes grew into slits as she refrained from asking what he meant. “This whole I-can-read-you-like-an- open-book thing,” he began explaining, mimicking her choice of words before, “isn’t really working its magic on me, pet. Doesn’t make me wanna succumb and open up, or whatever. All I’m saying is that you’d just do best in keeping your pretty little nose outta this one, Slayer. Whatever she’s doing here has got to do with me, I’m more than sure of that, so you just…”

She moved before he had finished, her face suddenly so close to his that he could feel her body heat reach out its fingers and gently caress his cool skin, her eyes looking directly into his and her hands planted firmly on either side of his face, her fingers practically digging into his neck and her thumbs at either of his temples.

“Now you listen to me, Mr. Big-Bad Ass-Living Dead,” she said in a lowered but determined voice. “We are all in on this, whether you like it or not, and whether you want it or not the fact is that the first step in contacting us was made to ME which makes this Slayer brain of mine think that, gee, that’s probably not a coincidence. So, cliff notes version, you can tell me who this Sarah is or SHE can do it once she wakes up. It’s your choice.”

All his senses were on the brim of melt down, it felt like he hadn’t had her this close for a hundred years and his hands had automatically placed themselves on respective hip, holding her gently to him as she spoke.

Buffy had no idea what the hell was the matter with her. WHY was she all of a sudden practically in his arms? And WHY was her face so close to his that their noses were practically scraping against each other?

For a moment he thought she was going to kiss him. It would fit the profile of their previous make-out sessions perfectly. Fighting seemed to be their best foreplay.

But then in one fluid motion she pulled away and took a step back, her eyes still in his though. He hated the guilty look on her face, hated that she felt like she had just led him on.

Then he heard something thump-thump-thumping in his ears and he realized what it was.

With a little smile he said:

“Your heart is racing, love.”

Buffy cursed the traitor in her chest before shrugging and turning around, walking back to the counter where she had left the spoons. She had thought she’d make some soup or something but now the idea seemed far away and unimportant as she began fidgeting with the silverware.

She sighed a little, figuring she did owe him a little more than that and turned back around.

But he had already gone back into the living room, the kitchen was empty, and she was alone.