As Willow watched Buffy run out of the library, the young witch decided right there and then that someone somewhere must not like her best friend. Buffy bypassed the circle drawn on the floor, her friends gathered around Willow and even Will—with tears running down her red and splotchy cheeks. Willow looked up and met two pairs of deep blue orbs; one, her lover watching Willow with a strange mixture of empathy and understanding crossing his face and the other one—Will—who stared at the library doors obviously fighting the urge to follow and comfort the slayer himself. Spike nodded at Willow and the door, silently asking her to go and comfort her friend.

Willow bit her bottom lip and sighed.

Her world was turning out to be as strange as the one she had just left.

Momentarily forgetting about the spell, the young witch turned to Giles and excused herself. Then she left the library to go to the one place she knew Buffy would go to in a time of pain—the only real place that any of them went when their hearts were broken while at school: the girl's bathroom.

Even though Willow didn't really know what was going on, she had a fair idea. All she had to do was reflect back to Angel's obviously agitated state when he had first come to the library a half an hour before, and she knew that whatever had upset Buffy, it had something to do with Angel. And for Buffy, Angel heartbreak was the most devasting pain of all.

Goddess, she wished that there were something she could do for her friend, but after hours and hours of researching the curse, Willow was stumped. And now, with her own turning looming in front of her, Willow had even more of an incentive to find either another soul-restoration spell or some possibility to rewrite the original curse without the clause hanging over Angel...and Willow, when the time came.

But until then, Buffy and Angel could not be together—no matter how much they wanted to. And now that Willow was no longer an innocent when it came to relationships and intimacy, she finally understood how hard forced celibacy had been for the couple.

Willow could not imagine living a life with Spike and not being able to be with him—physically.

And yet, Buffy and Angel had been doing just that since his return from Hell, and no matter what anyone had to say about those two—their restraint was a testament to how strong-willed both of them were.

As Willow opened the bathroom door and heard the muffled sobs echoing off the room's walls, she wondered what had changed with the two—because something obviously had.

"Buffy?" she called out softly as she stepped into the restroom.

Willow heard a loud sniffle and saw her friend standing over one of the sinks—her hands grasping the faucets.

"Yeah Wills?"

Willow walked over to the neighboring sink and leaned back against it. "You wanna talk about it?"

Buffy's eyes shut but not before a few new tears slipped out. She nodded her head, her blond hair flying about her face as her chest shook and a loud, harsh laugh rang through the room. "I'm really not surprised, ya know?" she said, looking at Willow. "I knew it couldn't keep going this way, and yet, it hurts, Wills. It really hurts," she whispered as her head dipped backward as she bit her bottom lip. "He's leaving after the Ascension," Buffy said, swallowing hard. "Whistler came by and saw him last night—while I was busy getting shot at by Faith and saved by Will—and told Angel that his redemption no longer lay with me. That Angel had to make his own way."

Buffy turned on the cold water and cupped her hands under the flow. After washing her face, she grabbed a paper towel and dried it.

"I'm sorry. If I'd only found out how to remove the clause—"

Buffy held out her hand—still clutching a paper towel—and shook her head. "No, Willow! It's not your fault. I have a feeling that even if you could make his soul permanent, he'd still go. This has just as much to do with Angel's redemption—his guilt—his need to make amends—as it does with us being together." She sighed, rubbing her now dry face. "Although the no-sex part is a definitely a major bummer—his guilt plays a huge part in why he's leaving. At least I think so. He didn't say it, but..."

"But you think he believes that he doesn't deserve you."

Buffy nodded and took a deep breath. "Yeah. And I can't really fault his feelings. I don't know how I'd feel in his shoes. Probably the same way—considering how I act when I feel guilty." She turned around and leaned against the sink. "You know, I've known since he came back that things would never be the same. No matter how much I love him and he loves me...no matter how right it feels at times—there was just too much stuff there—hanging over us." She chuckled humorlessly. "We were doomed the moment we consummated our relationship. For eighty years, he did nothing to redeem himself. And now that he sees that it's possible to do so, I don't think things would ever be right between us until he feels worthy of being loved."

Willow nodded, silently agreeing with Buffy as she remembered Angel's confession about killing an innocent while he was souled and the dark guilt that crossed his face as he told her his story. Angel not only felt that he had to make up for his demon's doings, but for his soul's as well.

She turned to her friend and scooted over closer to her, wrapping an arm around Buffy's shoulder. "I think that you're right. But it doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

Buffy laughed quietly and laid her head on Willow's shoulder. "No, it doesn't. But then, when has anything in my life ever been easy?" She took a deep breath, pulled away from Willow and stood in front of her, shaking her head. "God, I hate feeling sorry for myself," she said as she frowned. "Thanks for listening," she added as she reached for Willow's hand. "You don't know how scared I was when you were gone. The thought that I'd have to be alone—without you—drove me nuts. So," she said with a forced smile on her face. "Don't you have a spell you need to perform?"

Willow glanced at her watch, noting that she had only a few minutes until midnight, and nodded. "Are you sure? I can always do it tomorrow—if you need me..."

Buffy shook her head and started walking towards the door—still holding her hand. "Nope—Amy has waited long enough. And I can't imagine that life as a rat is too interesting. I remember a few hours of my own spent as a rodent, and believe me when I tell you, she needs to get on with her life! There's only so many habitrails that a rat can run through before she's just plain bored!"

Giggling, Willow let Buffy lead her out of the bathroom and towards the library.

Once Willow left the library, Will ran his fingers through his hair as he turned to his other self and arched his eyebrow.

His other self shrugged, tipping his head back towards Angel, and lit a cigarette.

"Bloody hell..." he whispered quietly as he tried to shake off the stab of pain he felt at seeing the slayer so upset over his sire's double. Although he had heard bits and pieces about the two from Willow, Spike and surprisingly, Buffy herself, he had a feeling it was only a small part of the Buffy and Angel story.

Will wasn't sure if he wanted to know the rest.

Clearing his throat, he met his double's gaze and nodded over to the steps. "I need to talk to you..."

Spike sighed, obviously impatient, and nodded.

As they walked across the library towards the stairs, Will went over in his mind what he really wanted to talk about to his other self. The hair dye? The dreams? The strange connection Will felt towards this slayer? His Willow?

The list was just endless.

Chuckling softly, he sat down at the top of the stairs and lit a cigarette while watching his other self lean against the stair railing below him and light up his own smoke.

"Well?" Spike asked.

"How long are you going to stay here with Willow? Are you going to help them out?"

Spike's eyes widened at the question and dipped his head as he stared at his cigarette. After nearly a minute, Will heard him sigh softly and watched as he shrugged. "I don't know, mate. At first, in your world, when we got together we talked of leaving Sunnydale. But it was your Sunnydale that we wanted to leave behind. After we got here, the only thing either of us cared about was being together." He paused and shook his head. "As long as she's still mortal, I don't see her leaving the slayer or her friends."

"And you?"

He snorted, shaking his head again, and looked down at the center of the library. "You don't know how many times I stood up here—after everyone had left—and planned the slayer's demise. Cor, I hated her!" He grinned and turned back to Will. "The chit beat my ass every time. The only things that I managed to do successfully while I was here was to kill the Anointed One—"

"You killed him?" Will asked, laughing at his other self's audacity.

Smiling, Spike nodded. "Little shit. I got him within my first week here. Oh, and restore Dru. But damn if that didn't cost me my legs for the next six months."

"And?" Will asked him after nearly a minute of silence.

"And I finally figured out something when I came back earlier this year: I didn't want her dead. I really didn't want any of them dead. Somehow, in the past two years of fighting Angel and the slayer, I began to care. Whether it was Red's blazing eyes as she stood up to me three months ago or the truce the slayer and I had to bring down Angelus or if it was just because after repeated contacts with all of them—they became more than just my enemy, I don't know. So, if that means I have to stick around to keep Red safe, I will. And if that means helping out the slayer occasionally, I'll do that as well.

"But, that doesn't mean I'm going to devote my unlife to fighting on their side. It just means that despite me being a demon, I found myself in the precarious position of actually caring about a few select mortals."

Will nodded, understanding his other self's motivation a lot more now than he had just a week ago. Whether it was the dreams or his own experiences with Spike's Willow, Will didn't know. But something had changed with him as well.

"Why?" Spike asked, stomping out his cigarette. "Why do you want to know?"

It was Will's turn to sigh as he looked up and met his double's curious stare. "I just want to know my if choices are going to hurt you, that's all."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Will shrugged as he dropped his burned-down cigarette on the linoleum floor and stepped on it. "If I stay and help out the slayer—"

"You want to know if that'll hurt my reputation?"

Will nodded.

The doors to the library opened as Willow and Buffy walked through them—holding hands. Will could see, even from where he and his double were sitting, that the slayer was a lot calmer than she had been just twenty minutes before, and he sighed in relief. "Yeah, that's what I want to know."

They both stood up and began their ascent down the stairs. Suddenly Spike stopped and turned to his other self. "Do what you have to do, mate. I can take care of myself."

Will nodded, feeling oddly relieved that he, at least for now, wouldn't have to dye his hair to protect his other self.

He rather liked his blond locks.

Not until Buffy had wrapped Amy's naked body with a blanket, did it hit Willow that she had finally done it.

Quickly ending the spell and breaking the circle, she turned to her friend and just sat there in amazement—watching her.

"Willow? Where...what's going on?" Amy frowned as she stared at the blanket and turned to Buffy. "Why am I naked and why is everyone staring at me?"

Xander's laugh rang through the room, and Willow couldn't help giggling herself. "I'm sorry it took me so long. Oh, I got clothes for you!" She turned around and spotted her knapsack sitting on the table. "Spike, toss me my backpack, will ya?"

Grinning, the vampire nodded and grabbed the bag off the table. Once in hand, he walked over to Willow and knelt down beside her all the while smirking at the confused blonde witch staring at him with her mouth hanging open. "Here you go, Red," he said and kissed Willow softly on the lips.

"Are you sure this my world?" Amy asked softly. "Because, last I remember you..."

Buffy giggled as she stood up and helped Amy to her feet. "You've been gone for a while Amy. What's the last thing you remember?"

Amy's eyebrows creased together in thought. "A fire...a burning! We were burning at the stake! Our mothers! Buffy, your mom was the worst!"

"MOO," Buffy answered, ducking her head in embarrassment. "Mother's Opposed to the Occult. Actually, it was a couple of demons posing at murdered kids that started it all—"

"I remember now!" Amy said as she let Buffy lead her out of the room.

Willow smiled as she listened to her two best friends begin talking animatedly about events that happened two months before. Grabbing her backpack, she turned to Spike, grinned and then quickly skipped out of the library to the restroom.

"Was anyone else just suddenly struck by the weirdness that is the Hellmouth?" Xander asked as he tipped his soda to his mouth.

"Well a—I must say it has been a trying week or so," Giles said as he walked over to the table and sat down. He pulled off his glasses and began to polish them.

Cordelia snorted, shaking her head. "It's always a trying week around here with you weirdoes," she said, picking up her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. "Well, now that Amy the Witch is back, I'm going home, where normal people are at this time of night." She looked over at Wesley. "Walk me out to my car?"

The young Watcher nodded as he fumbled with his coat. "I do say, it is a bit late. I'd be honored, Miss Chase," he said as he waited by the counter for her to meet up with him. A minute later, they disappeared out the door.

"Are those two for real?" Spike asked as he lit a cigarette.

Angel snickered softly behind him as Xander scowled loudly. "Unfortunately yes," the young mortal said as he glared at the swinging doors.

"It's a bloody soap opera around here," Will said as he leaned back against the table next to his double.

Spike watched as the whelp turned to Will and lifted his eyebrow at the vampire. "And you're telling me—"

"Harris—drop it," Angel said softly as he interrupted the boy, and walked over to sit next to Giles.

"Hey Deadboy—"

Will let out a loud, heartfelt laugh. "Deadboy? Damn kid, you're either more foolish than you look or you've got balls made out of brass! But after meeting your vampiric double, I tend to think it's the latter."

Xander's eyes widened. "You met him...I mean me?"

Spike chuckled as he took a deep drag off his cigarette. "I don't know about that. I vote for the former—"

"Hey—talking here Deadboy Two!"

"Xander, if you could please refrain from your usual antics and remember that both Will and Spike do not have a soul."

Xander gulped loudly, his eyes widening in fear. "Oops."

Angel nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah Harris, they don't have the patience I do," Angel said as he looked over at Giles. "I told her, Rupert."

Giles let out a deep breath as he placed is glasses on the table. "I assumed as much. She appeared to take it a lot better than I thought."

"Take what?" Xander asked. "What did you do to her this time, Angel?"

"I told her that I was leaving—after the Ascension," Angel said as he leaned back in his chair. "Happy now?"

The whelp rolled his eyes at Angel. "Why would I be happy that she's hurting once again because of you?" He stood up, pushing his chair back. "You just don't get it, do you Angel? It's not that I hate you, it's just that I don't trust you. That pesky little clause in your curse led to the world nearly being sucked into Hell... not to mention all the pain that everyone here went through—except Will, but from what I hear, he was a having a blast with his version of your demon-self in his world as well. I actually like you. You've saved my sorry butt more times than I can count as well as Willow, Buffy, Cordelia, Giles, Oz—even Wesley owes you a few. But when it comes to the Buff, you hurt her. And I hate seeing her hurt."

Xander turned and walked out.

After nearly a minute of silence, Spike finally couldn't take it anymore. "Well, that answers your question, Will. Balls of steel."

Angel groaned, closing his eyes. "I hate it when he's right."

"I know. It is rather annoying, isn't it?" Giles asked softly.

"So what's with you and Spike. That was Spike, wasn't it? I mean, I recognize him from last year."

Willow nodded as she pulled out the change of clothes she had gotten from Amy's house. She handed them to her. "Yeah, it's Spike."

"He kidnapped you, Willow!"

Buffy grinned, leaning against one of the stalls, watching her friend squirm under the blonde witch's inquisition.

"Shut up, Buffy," Willow said with a slight tease in her voice. "Or I'll start giving you trouble about Will."

Buffy's eyes widened as her face turned a nice shade of red. "What about Will?"

"Who's Will?"

"Spike's doppelganger."

"Huh?"

Once Willow disappeared into the bathroom, Spike leaned against the headboard and lit a cigarette. Two days back in Sunnyhell and already his unlife was being turned upside down.

Angel was leaving.

Was it only two weeks ago that he had hated everything that his sire was—regardless of his souled state or not? Some demon I am, he thought to himself sullenly as he stared at the ceiling above him. Hell, Spike was in a worse state than his double with none of the excuses that Will had.

There were no outside forces that propelled Spike into becoming the vampire that he was presently, compared to the vampire he had been when he first drove over that bloody Welcome to Sunnydale sign a little over a year and a half before. Everything he was, was a choice made by him and his demon.

"Fuck," he whispered, silently wondering if maybe he did pick up a soul somewhere, because he was sure as hell acting like a bloody Nancy-boy.

Growling, he shot off the bed and began pacing the room, not even conscious of his naked state. "What the hell is happening to me?" he asked through his fangs.

It was all so simple in the other world. It wasn't his fight and if it became his fight, there was no damn way he was going to let the world end—not while he and Willow were stuck there. So, what's changed Spikey-boy? he asked himself as he strolled into the kitchenette and flicked his cigarette butt into the empty sink. After grabbing a blood bag, he leaned against the counter and really thought about it.

What did change? What changed with him?

Willow.

The truce...the slayer...Acathla....his crippled state for over four months...Dru's rejection...his sire's demonic return...and finally meeting his other self in another world that was so much like himself, but not.

That's what changed him.

Seeing himself hard and angry made Spike realize that he no longer possessed those traits. So, maybe it wasn't the meeting of Will that changed him, but it was seeing his other self that forced Spike to acknowledge that he was no longer the same vampire that he had once been.

Which, he thought to himself as he heard the bathroom door open, all leads back to Willow and Angel.

He and Angel had finally found some common ground, managing to mend bridges that Spike had thought were beyond repair and Spike didn't want to lose that.

"Spike?"

Spike blinked his eyes and turned to face his lover—standing in front of him, wrapped only in a towel with her wet hair still dripping on her somewhat clad form. Her green eyes were wide, and Spike could see the concern for him in them. Giving her a half-smile, he walked over to her and tugged the towel loose and dropping it on the ground. "My, don't you look just delectable standing there, Red?" He pulled her tight against his cool body, reveling in her warmth.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled. "Delectable, huh? So, does that mean you want to eat me?" she whispered, her voice low and suggestive.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her and dropped a kiss on her lips. "Cheeky little thing. More than you'll ever imagine."

Blushing, she dropped her head from his sight and hugged him. "So, are you okay? I mean about Angel leaving and all?"

She never fails to surprise me, Spike thought to himself as he suddenly slid his arms around her back and under her legs and then swept her into his arms. She barely knows me and yet can see into my heart better than anyone else ever has, he said to himself as he started walking towards their bed. "I'll be alright, luv. We'll just have to visit LA a lot. Make it our second home and all." He dropped her on the mattress and quickly followed, covering her hot, flushed body with his own.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and began to scratch his back, causing him to moan softly. "Graduation isn't for another couple of months, so you'll still have time with him," she whispered against his lips right before running her tongue across his mouth.

Growling softly, he retaliated by nibbling on her bottom lip as his face changed. Once his fangs were available, he nipped at it and quickly suckled on her wound as he rubbed his penis against her vagina, teasing her.

Sighing, Willow arched her lower body into his, almost as if she were trying to capture the object of her torment. Chuckling softly, Spike lifted his head and just looked at her, still in awe that this beautiful creature loved him and wanted him.

She gave him a sweet smile and pushed herself even closer to him. Finally giving in to her, he slid his hard cock into her hot hole—shuddering at the feel.

As they made slow and passionate love, Spike couldn't help but feel that if this was what getting soft meant, then he really didn't care how much of a wanker he was becoming. Not if it meant spending every night in his Willow's arms as she held him tightly in her body.

Because as far as he was concerned, it was the closest thing to heaven that he'd ever see.

How in the hell did he get to be so lucky?

~~~Two weeks later~~~
 
 

Growling underneath his breath, Will slid on a pair of boxers over his burgeoning hard-on and stomped his way through the apartment to the front door.

Satan below, he really hated these dreams.

"You can bloody well stop your pounding, Peaches, I hear you!"

He heard his sire's double growl impatiently as he rattled the doorknob, and Will found himself shivering at the strange familiarity of Angel's voice. Did Spike notice how much alike this post-Hell Angel was to pre-souled Angelus? As far as Will was concerned, he had a hard time telling the two apart. And then when he compared the two of them to that thing that was running around in his world wearing Angelus' face—Will could only shake his head and curse those blasted gypsies all over again. That Angelus was not his sire. Not at all.

Shaking his head, he unlocked the door and swung open it—carefully hiding his lower body behind the wood.

"You changed the locks," Angel said as he eyed him carefully.

"Can't put anything past you, Angelus," Will said, smirking at the dark-haired vampire's glare. "I don't know who or what the hell has a key to this place, and I'd like to have a bit of control over who comes strolling into my home. I got a key for you in the other room. I already gave one to Spike—"

Angel nodded once, tension radiating from his body. "Whatever." He started pacing in front of Will, his face closed and angry. "I've got to talk to you."

Will closed the door, locked it and stood there, his forehead pressed against the wood as he tried to will his arousal away. Normally, he could care less what state Angel saw him, but for the last few days—ever since the first time he had dreamt of the night of the slayer's 17th birthday and the events following it—Will found himself dreaming that particular incident repeatedly. The younger vampire really didn't want to be in the position of having to explain to Angel that he had not only enjoyed the most poignant moment in Angel's souled life—seeing events through the vampire's point of view—but also had the privilege of feeling Buffy's love and passion as well.

Damn dreams, he thought to himself as the picture of a naked slayer flashed through his mind. Think about something...anything... he urged himself as a memory of his sire kicking him in the balls came to mind.

His cock softened.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around to Angel, clenching his jaw. "What?" Will snapped. "What the hell crawled up your arsehole?"

Angel's eyes flashed yellow as he tossed a large manila envelope onto the coffee table. "I'm leaving."

Will frowned as he stared at Angel. "When?"

"Tonight," Angel snapped.

Will glanced at the writing on the envelope and saw his name written in Angel's familiar script. "What's this?" he asked, picking up the envelope.

The dark-haired vampire stood with his hands resting on his hips as he looked down at the envelope. "I signed over the deed to the mansion and this apartment building to both you and Spike. You guys can work out where you want to live." Angel sighed, his eyes closing, but not before Will saw a glimpse of pain and sorrow in them. "I don't know how Spike feels about staying at the mansion. We had some 'interesting' times in there last year, and he might not want to live there. You, on the other hand, never lived there in either world. But right now, he and Willow are staying in that fallout shelter, and I can't imagine Willow being happy there—"

"Wait a minute," Will interrupted. "Why now? I thought you were going to wait until after that bloke ascends."

Angel growled again as he clenched his fists. "I was, Will. Until Whistler came by again. It seems that I'm needed in LA now, not in a month like I originally planned. Besides, you're doing a fine job. You've been patrolling with her for the last two weeks and she trusts you."

"What about that prom thing that she was planning on going with you to? Are you just going to stand her up?"

"You go," Angel whispered, his head bowed.

"But—"

"Will, shut the hell up and quit arguing with me about this! I have no choice in the matter," he chuckled, his voice ringing with irony. "No more than you did when you got pulled in over here. We're both pawns...insignificant beings in the big battle to keep things balanced. What we want or desire isn't an issue with them...they just pull our strings and we act accordingly."

Not for the first time in the past two weeks Will wondered if he would've been better off taking his chances in his own world. But as soon as he thought that, he remembered what his Willow had said to this world's Willow and that seemed to calm whatever edginess his demon had in him. Will would've died in his own world—at his sire's hand—and most likely would've been dusted the very same day he was taken to this Sunnydale. At least here, in this strange, warped version of his own world, he had a chance to live his unlife...and on his own terms.

"—I'm going to see Spike next and tell him to come talk to you...you two can work out where you want to live. Also, there's a bank book in there—I used your real name. Spike has a dozen aliases, so that shouldn't be an issue. I don't think he's used his name since—"

"—before Drusilla," Will said, interrupting Angel. "Remember, up until a couple of years ago, our past was exactly the same."

Angel nodded. "I stand corrected," he said, sighing softly. "I also left my telephone number and address—just in case you need me. I'm planning on coming back for the Ascension, so if you need me here earlier than Graduation Day, call me and tell me. I'll just stay with you or Spike when I'm here.

"There's also some cash—I'm sure you must be hitting the end of whatever you found here," Angel said, grinning slightly.

Will nodded as a small smile curled his lips. Their eyes met and Will's throat closed when he saw how pained Angel looked. It was then that he knew he would miss this Angel—even more than his own sire—and felt his chest tightened. He walked over to the other vampire and clasped his shoulder. "I can call you?" Will asked, shocked at the neediness in his voice. It had been so long since he felt this way about his Angelus, he had nearly forgotten what it was like to want his sire...to need him.

Angel nodded silently as he turned around and pulled Will in his arms. For nearly five minutes, the two vampires stood there, clinging to one another, just enjoying the closeness. "Goodbye Will," Angel whispered against his cheek before slipping out the door.

Will collapsed onto the couch, still reeling from Angel's touch and stayed there for nearly an hour before finally going back to bed.

Not surprisingly, his hard-on had returned.

Spike glared at the manila envelope sitting on the table in front of him and wished it would just somehow spontaneously combust. Maybe then, Angel would stay.

"Spike—"

The blond vampire ignored him as he reached out and yanked the envelope over to him. "I hate this, Angel," he muttered as he unclasped the envelope and shook the contents out onto the wooden surface.

"I know, so do I," Angel whispered. "I hate it all. I don't want to leave, but I know I have to."

"What about the slayer? Have you talked to her yet?"

Angel shook his head no. "I'm going to see her tonight—before I leave." Angel stood up and began pacing the tiled floor. "It's going to break her heart. That dance this weekend?"

"Yeah, are you coming back for that?"

Angel groaned softly. "No, I told Will to take her."

Spike snorted in shock at his sire's assumption. "What if she doesn't want to be taken by Will? I don't know much about mortals and even less about teenage rites of passage, but Red's been talking non stop about this for over a week."

"I know, so has Buffy."

"And you're just leaving?"

Angel growled as he swirled around and glowered at Spike. "Don't you get it yet, Spike? I don't have a choice about this. Just imagine, I stay for the prom and then something else comes up and I end staying for that. Then, before you and I realize it, Graduation Day and the Ascension are here, and of course I stay for that.

"Before I can sulk off into the shadows, a new influx of demons and vampires invade Sunnydale now that the mayor's gone and the town's up for grabs...suddenly it's four months later and Buffy and I get caught in a rainstorm, end up in bed...making mad, passionate love together...and boom, he's back with a vengeance.

"Don't think it's not going to happen, Spike, because, I guarantee you if I stay here much longer, I will take her to my bed—the hell with the curse. And then, we'll all be damned."

By the end of Angel's tirade, all the anger and rage that seemed to be fueling him, disappeared, leaving his sire leaning against the kitchen counter, exhausted. "I can't do it anymore. I can't stay and keep my hands off of her. I've always been a selfish bastard and no amount of guilt is going to stop me from being with her if I remain here in Sunnydale."

Spike sighed, rubbing his face. "Angel, I know, mate. I just don't want you to go...not when—"

"Not when we’re finally back where we were a hundred years ago," Angel said, finishing Spike's sentence. "You're not alone in this, Spike. You can't imagine how lucky I feel right now—I never imagined that I could have you back in my life while I had my soul. And now, I've got two of you. Will's feeling it as well. But, I can't stay."

It was nearly four in the afternoon when Spike finally showed up at Will's. Unlike Angel, Will's counterpart just opened the door using his key and slipped inside.

The noise of the key turning the lock woke Will—pulling him from yet another dream starring the Sunnydale clan, as Will called them in his mind. This dream, like so many others in the past week, took place after Angel had lost his soul. Will wasn't sure from whose point of view he was watching things from—it seemed to change with each scene. Sometimes he was seeing events as if it were from the slayer's eyes, other times it was from Spike's or Dru's. The most disturbing of all of them, was when he was seeing things from Angelus' point-of-view.

Will finally understood why Angelus was so out of control once he came back and reclaimed his body from his soul: he was mad.

Stark raving crazy—driven insane by eighty some odd years of suppression caused by his soul. Half the time, Angelus had no idea why he did the things he did, just following an instinct warped by time—a need to cause pain to demon or human—it didn't seem to matter to him.

Sighing, he sat up in bed and lit a cigarette just as he heard Spike open and close the refrigerator. "Heat some up for me, will ya mate?"

"Already done," Spike said.

Will stared at red tip of the burning cigarette and found himself shuddering uncontrollably as he remembered the rage that filled Angelus. No wonder Spike had hated Will's sire so much, Will thought to himself as he remembered all he had experienced in his dreams. Angelus had taken great pains in putting a broken Spike in his place—constantly reminding the younger vampire who exactly was the master in their warped family.

And Drusilla? How could she turn her back on Spike after all those years of unfailing support and love. Spike nurtured and cared for her, just as Will had done with his dark princess, but as soon as her 'Daddy' returned, Dru flung herself into Angelus' arms—nearly forgetting about Spike.

"Here you go, mate," Spike said.

Will shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and took the mug from his other self's hand. After drinking half the mug down, Will looked up at Spike and found himself sighing. "My sire is going to destroy my world, if he isn't re-souled, isn't he?"

Spike blinked, obviously taken aback by the question. Frowning slightly, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in the padded chair by the bed and said nothing for nearly five minutes. Finally, he just nodded slowly.

"I've been having those dreams, you know? Well, this past week I've had a front seat to the wonders of a soulless Angelus. He was a prick to me, but at least I could fight back. And move out," Will added.

Spike snorted, then downed the last of his meal and slammed the cup down on the nightstand. "It wasn't a picnic, that's for sure. That's why this whole thing is so fucked up."

"You mean Angel leaving?"

Spike nodded. "You know, I hated Angel...Angelus...either one—it didn't matter one iota after I left here last year. Once I realized that the world wasn't going to get sucked into Hell, I had to pull the car over, because I was laughing so hard. The thought that he was sent to Hell just filled me with such glee, I nearly woke Dru up with all that cackling. I couldn't believe the slayer did it, considering when I left the mansion with an unconscious Dru in my arms, it looked like the prick was going to win. He bloody had a sword to her throat and yet, somehow she managed to beat him." Spike grinned as he stubbed his cigarette out. "And then I came back about six months later to find him alive—his soulful self—rubbing all over the slayer, and I wanted to kill both of them all over again."

"What changed?"

"Our little adventure in your world. Seeing those two in the same room—as different people—made me realize that as irritating as Angel can be—all that righteous, bloody goodness just seeping out of his pores—he wasn't nearly as disturbing as Angelus." He paused for a moment, studying his clasped hands in front of him and then looked up and met Will's interested gaze. "I realized there, that I could really like, maybe even love Angel—just like I used to love Angelus before the curse."

"And now he's leaving."

Spike nodded. "And now he's leaving me again." He shot out of his chair and began to pace the perimeter of the bedroom. "And I hate it, even though I know why he's doing it."

Will sighed, agreeing with his other self. He too felt like he had just found his sire after a hundred years of nothing—only to lose him again. Even though LA was only a couple of hours away, it still felt like Angel might as well be moving back to Europe.

"—the prom?"

"What?" Will asked.

Growling softly, Spike turned to Will, impatience flaring in his eyes. "I said, are you gonna take the slayer to that bloody dance this weekend?"

Suddenly, Will found that he couldn't stop the laughter that was bubbling up out of his chest. Of all the bloody things to be talking to himself about, the prom was about the most outlandish subject he could've chosen. Shaking his head, he looked up at his smiling counterpart, instinctively knowing that Spike was thinking the same thing, and shook his head at the craziness of his unlife.

"Oh fuck me," Spike muttered, falling back against the wall as he shook his head. "Bloody Willow is got me acting like a whipped soul boy," Spike said, smirking at himself. "I've got to turn her before I find myself just like Peaches...without a bloody soul!"

Will chuckled softly as he sat up and straightened his legs. "How's that going—the restoration spell?"

Spike scowled, lighting another cigarette. "They can't revise the one they used on Peaches. It was written for Angelus specifically. So now, Amy, this bloke named Michael and Willow have been digging though all of the Watcher's books...as well as sending the word out onto the Internet—that they're looking for one."

"What about a demon tamer spell?" Will asked, remembering the one he stumbled upon about twenty years ago while looking for a restoration spell for Dru.

Spike snapped his fingers as he straightened. "That might help, but her soul...it would still be gone."

Will nodded. "Yeah, but with a tamer spell, wouldn't her personality be in the driver's seat instead of the demon? Think about it, mate. If her demon was tamed, then the lighter aspects of her personality would be able to come forth." Spike still didn't look convinced. "I mean, look at us, Spike. Our personalities were stronger than the demon's. That's why we can love, use our brains instead of letting our fangs do the thinking for us. That's what makes us different. It's what made Dru different too. Her madness tamed the demon enough for her to be able to love."

Spike snorted, disgust clouding his face. "Dru may be able to love, but she's a fickle little bitch. Don't ever think otherwise. As soon as I stopped being what she had wanted me to be, she found someone else." Spike lit another cigarette, scowling softly. "Your Dru died before she could ever betray you. I almost envy you that. Because you've got all these wonderful memories of her loyalty and her love. Look at what I've got left—the lasting memory of her shagging a Chaos Demon in our bed. Bloody bitch."

Will's mouth dropped open in shock as he listened to his other self talk about Drusilla. He couldn't believe the bitterness he heard in this voice identical to his own, and wondered if Will would ever feel the same way about Drusilla as Spike did.

The way it stood now, Will didn't think so. But if the dreams continued, who knew? Two weeks ago, he could've cared less about the slayer and her life, and now he was nearly in love with her—all because of some stupid dreams that forced him to see things from the young woman's point of view.

"Will?"

Will looked up to his counterpart watching him carefully, regret flashing in his eyes. "I'm not angry with your Dru. Who knows? If you'd managed to pull off the restoration spell, things might've been different on your side."

Will accepted the thinly cloaked apology and shrugged slightly. "No matter, Spike. My Dru didn't do those things to me, just your Dru." He decided not to bring up the fact that if he continued to dream about those few months following Angelus' return, Will might find himself in the same place that Spike was in. How could he not? Already he was feeling the pick of Dru's betrayal towards Spike cracking Will's love for his Dru.

Will wasn't sure why that was happening, unless whomever gave him these dreams in the first place, wanted to guarantee Will's loyalty if Dru ever decided to come back to the Hellmouth while the slayer was still alive.

Satan below, he really hoped not—he hated being manipulated. But every time he tried to work up enough anger to rebel against all the images he had been sent, it just kinda fell flat. Whether it was because his demon had no real purchase in this world, so it didn't feel compelled to act 'demonly' or if it was something else entirely, Will didn't know.

But a part of him hated it.

Clenching his jaw, he swung his legs over the bed and grabbed a pair of worn jeans, slipping them on easily over his boxers. After grabbing his cigarettes and dirty coffee mug, Will nodded towards the living the room. "Do you want some more?"

"Nah, mate. I'm gonna head over to the next town tonight and hunt a bit. Interested?"

Will felt his body tense at the thought and gave his other self a terse nod. They did this about twice a week—a way to keep their bubbling bloodlust at bay. Although neither of them had killed yet, Will knew they were treading on shaky ground by doing this. The slayer tolerated both of them because she knew they weren't draining their victims completely, but what would happen if one of them messed up and accidentally did kill?

He found himself not really wanting to know the answer.

Spike followed him into the living room and began to scan the room with a critical eye. "You've definitely made your mark here," he said as he lit another cigarette. "So Will, where do you want to live?"

Will arched his scarred eyebrow at his other self and shook his head. "Either place is fine with me."

Spike nodded as he fell down onto the couch and sighed softly. "I thought you'd say that," he said, pausing. "How would you feel about living with me? Could you handle seeing yourself all the time?" Spike asked, smirking over at him.

Chuckling softly, Will shrugged noncommittally. "You still haven't gotten used to living by yourself, have you?"

Spike's eyes flashed as his jaw clenched. "Damn, how come I never noticed how bloody irritating I was before?"

"Because, you never had to deal with yourself before. You just made other people do it," Will said, laughing at both of them. How many times in the past month had Will asked himself the same thing? Hundreds, at least. But still, he was egotistical enough to enjoy his other self's company, and he was pretty sure Spike felt the same way. "Well, if it's consolation to you, I haven't either."

"Haven't what?" Spike snapped.

"Gotten used to living by myself. Although, I've been doing it a bit longer than you have." Will sat down on the couch next to Spike and sighed softly. "So, you want us to move to the mansion?"

He nodded once. "It's big enough for both of us and Willow..." he trailed off, letting his head fall back and rest against the back of the couch. "And with the Poof leaving..."

Will groaned as he stretched his long legs out on the coffee table and stared at the blank television screen as he mentally listed the pros and cons with living with his other self.

The pros were easy: no more loneliness.

Simple, succinct and to the point.

The cons? Well the first one that came to his mind was the slayer. She had become a part of Will's life...whether his other self wanted to admit it or not, and Will didn't want her to feel put out if he moved in with Spike.

Although the two mortal enemies seemed to get along better than Will ever did with the Buffy Summers from his own world, they still seemed to grate on each other's nerves. Whether it was because they knew each other too well or if it was because both of them had shared a painful albeit short past, Will didn't know.

And he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. "What about Willow?" Will asked him as he turned to face Spike. "Will she have a problem with me being around her?"

It was Spike's turn to arch his scarred eyebrow at Will. "You mean about you shagging her—my Willow—in your world?"

Will couldn't help but be relieved by the smirk on his other self's face. He really didn't feel like fighting over something that, in some ways, felt like it had happened to a totally different person. "Yeah mate, that."

Spike snorted as his closed his eyes again. "Pet, she forgave you before we even left your world. She understands demons. And whatever uneasiness she felt around you when you came here, quickly disappeared as soon as she found out you saved the slayer's ass. It also doesn't hurt that you don't seem to be interested in Willow like that anymore—since you've been lusting after the slayer." Spike opened his eyes again. "You don't want Willow anymore, do you?"

Will almost shook his head no automatically, but stopped himself. He needed to really think about this and be honest to Spike—even if his other self was the only person he was honest to. He closed his eyes and thought about that night he spent in the mortal Willow's arms and chuckled softly at the memory. Damn if she wasn't a firecat in the sack, he thought to himself. But when he thought about her now and tried to invoke those same lustful thoughts, all he could seem to dredge up was a deep caring for her—no desire.

"No, I don't," he whispered. "As shocking as that seems, even for me, I just don't. Damn, I've changed," Will said, suddenly unnerved by just how much he had been transformed over the past few weeks.

"No, you haven't," Spike said, sitting up. For a moment he looked unsure as he tipped his head to the side, staring at his other self. Suddenly Spike took a deep breath and met Will's eyes. "I'm going to tell you something...but you have to swear not to say anything to anyone."

Will found himself straightening his posture as he heard the urgency in his other self's voice. "What? I swear. Who the hell would I tell?" he nearly growled out, irritated at his other self's ignorance. Didn't Spike know that he was the only one that Will ever talked to or shared anything with? That he was the only person Will truly and completely trusted in this crazy world.

Spike snorted in disbelief. "The Poof—the slayer—Willow even."

Will listened to Spike list the names and sighed inwardly. Whatever Spike wanted to tell him, Will found himself definitely interested. "Yes, I promise I won't say anything," Will said softly. "So, what is it?"

"I wanted to shag the slayer," Spike muttered underneath his breath as he hung his head down. He looked up and Will found himself staring into Spike's familiar blue orbs. "Used to fantasize about it when I was stuck in that wheelchair. Probably would still want to bed the bitch...well, bed her and/or bag her...if I hadn't kidnapped Willow."

Stunned, Will slowly stood up and began to pace the living room floor as he tried assimilating this latest piece of information into his mind. "So, what you're saying is, that my feelings aren't totally being pushed onto me...that this isn't completely out of character for me?" he asked Spike, feeling his fangs dig into his lower lip, tasting his blood that slipped out of the wound. When the hell did my face change? he asked himself as he waited for Spike to answer him.

Spike nodded slowly. "That's what I'm saying. That your big bad self—even if you were in your own world...if you'd been confronted with our version of the great Buffy the Vampire Slayer, would want to shag her from here to next Sunday."

"But, why didn't I feel that way about my slayer—in my world?"

"Because ducks, she wasn't the same slayer. Your slayer's darker, angrier. The bloody light that sparkles in her eyes when she was bantering with you all the while she's pounding living shit out of you, wasn't there. You never saw how she repeatedly put Peaches—the fucked-up, soulless version of our sire—in his place. You didn't see what makes her special. She wasn't special in your world. She was just another slayer—robotic and emotionless—doing her duty and waiting to die so another one would be called."

"Fuck," Will whispered, falling back against the wall. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Spike nodded. "Dead serious."

"What changed?"

Spike shook his head and flung up his arms impatiently. "Fate! Fuck, I don't know," he whispered. "Maybe, if I hadn't taken that last sniff of Red's hair at the factory or if I hadn't been sucked into your world and had the opportunity to taste your Willow," Spike said as he stood up and began to pace himself. "Or had gotten a chance to hold my Willow that first night she came to your world, I might have come back and done the dance with the slayer! The thing that always held me back with the slayer is the one thing you don't have to worry about. You haven't been at the business end of her stake and you haven't smacked her around. You aren't her 'mortal enemy.' I am.

"So quit brooding about this and just shag her and let me live vicariously through you. It would please me to no end to know that I, somewhere...somehow, got the opportunity to not only screw her brains out," Spike paused, grinning gleefully. "But maybe even to love her. You're not alone. If we feel this way—I guarantee you that there's a whole bunch of Spikes in other worlds that want the same damn thing."

Will just stood there, staring at his grinning counterpart and began laughing as Spike's words sunk in. It was crazy...as insane as Drusilla was...but Spike was correct, it felt right.

Spike laughed as well as he stood up and stubbed out his burnt cigarette. "Go get dressed. It's sundown and we are going hunting. And then I'm coming back to my Willow—woo her into bed and you're going to comfort a broken hearted slayer," Spike said as he turned on his heel and went into the bedroom. Seconds later two shirts, a pair of socks and Will's Doc Marten's flew out the doorway onto the couch and the floor. Spike stuck his head into the room and grinned. "Go on, what are you waiting for?" Spike asked as he opened his cellphone and began punching in a number.

"Who are you calling?"

"Red, so she doesn't freak when she comes home to find me gone. Now, shoo!" he said, waving his hand at Will.

As Will grabbed the black tee-shirt off the couch and slipped it on over his head, he realized that he was still grinning like a fool.

Spike was right, he thought to himself. This was alright—me falling for the slayer. Almost like fate.

How bloody fucked-up was that?

"Ready?" Spike asked Will as he walked into the living room and headed for the front door.

Will nodded as he watched his counterpart open the front door and before he stepped outside into the hallway, he turned to look at Will, merriment dancing in his eyes. "Have you met the slayer's mum yet?"

Will shook his head slowly, suddenly dreading where this conversation was going. He knew of Spike's and Joyce's friendship and out of everything he had learned of his other self, found that fact one of the most disturbing. Taking an unneeded breath, he met Spike's curious gaze. "Not personally, but I've dreamt of her."

Spike nodded to himself as his eyes looked over Will's shoulder, unfocused. He suddenly turned to Will as a slow grin curled his lips. "Change of plans then, ducks! First we go and say hello to Joyce, then hunt. Can't have you hankering to get into the slayer's knickers if you don't even know her mum. Besides," Spike paused as he smirked at Will. "She likes me and hates the Poof."

Will chuckled softly at the sheer incongruity of the situation and found himself nodding in agreement with Spike. "Good enough for me," he said softly as he gently pushed his other self out of the door. "So Spike, what's this I hear about her hot cocoa?"

Spike's eyes closed in sheer bliss as he shook his head. "Oh mate, she makes the best cocoa—not that bloody tasteless instant crap that everyone drinks now, but the real stuff. Home made. And she always adds those cute little marshmallow in it. I swear..."

Willow looked over at her friend as she pulled out the pink prom dress from its wrappings and placed it carefully on her bed. "So, what do you think?" Buffy asked her.

It was beautiful and Willow told Buffy as much as she sat down next to it on the bed and fingered the satiny material. "Has Angel gotten his tux yet?"

Buffy shook her head slowly as she stared at the ray of light on the carpet from the bedroom window. "I don't know. I didn't see him last night," she said quietly.

"Are you okay?"

Buffy shook her head slightly and suddenly shrugged dramatically. "I'm alright," she said, frowning. "I've been thinking about last week and that demon's blood." Willow met her friend's painful gaze. "Will, what am I going to do when he leaves?"

"Survive, just like you always do."

Buffy blinked her eyes, ignoring the wet tears that were rolling down her face. "I miss him. It's like he's already pulling away..."

Willow sighed as she leaned against the headboard and closed her eyes. "Buffy, I know you're hurting, but you know that this has got to be really difficult for him too. I'm sure he doesn't want to leave; he just knows that he has to."

"I know that, Willow. It just doesn't make it any easier."

"But is the alternative any better?"

"What alternative?"

"Him staying and you two continuing as you are...not a couple, but a couple. I mean, do you guys even kiss?"

Buffy shook her head as she wiped her face. "No, not anymore. It's too easy to get caught up and then it's real hard to calm down..."

"That's what I thought. I can imagine how hard it is for you, but think about how difficult it must be for Angel."

"Why should it be more difficult for him?"

"One, he's a man and I don't know if he's got testosterone running through him or not, but I do know that vampires are very tactile beings. They love to touch, taste...feel...smell things, so much more than we do. Their heightened senses make them like that. Their sexual drive is like permanently set on high. Spike told me just the other day that Angelus loved to 'rut with anything that got his balls off.' Angelus is in Angel."

Buffy sighed, her head dropping as she stared down at her feet. "I know Willow. You know, we've, you and me, never talked about it—but the senses and being a tactile creature? It's the same with me. It must be a slayer thing too." She stopped and looked up at Willow, tears streaming down her face. "This last year? It's been horrible. To see and not touch. To want and not have. I know he's doing the right thing—leaving like he is—but my heart doesn't care. It just wants my Angel."

Willow quirked her head to the side and gave her friend a small smile. "It'll get better, Buffy. It might even get better quicker as soon as he leaves..."

"Why do you say that?"

"Will."

Buffy blinked a couple of times and said nothing.

"Buffy, you know something's there—"

"Is there really something there? Or have the Powers manufactured it so I could have an Angel replacement without having Angel. No pesky curse to get in our way if we decide to fall into bed. Doesn't that bother you? It bothers the hell out of me."

"How do you feel about him?"

The blond just shrugged noncommittally.

"No feelings either way? I don't believe that," Willow said as stood up and walked over to the slayer. "I just think what has happened is that you've shoved down whatever you were feeling once you found out Angel was leaving."

Buffy shook her head no.

"And you never were attracted to Spike? Ever?"

Buffy's head shot up and met Willow's curious eyes. "What?"

Willow couldn't stop the grin from curling her lips. "I knew it! I knew it! You had a crush on Spike!"

Buffy waved her hand at Willow as she shook her head. "I lusted after Spike, but I can't stand him!"

"Even now?"

"Now he's yours, so what difference does it make?"

"Because Will is the difference. Will is Spike, Buffy. He's not Angel. He's Spike."

"But those dreams!"

Willow shook her head at her friend and grabbed Buffy's hands, stilling her. "Those dreams weren't given to him to make him like Angel, they were given to him to make him like Spike." Willow saw the confusion in Buffy's eyes and tried another angle. "Remember when Angel, Spike and I first came back?"

"Yeah..."

"And remember what Angel said about Will, when he compared him to Spike. How different they were?"

Buffy nodded again.

"How different are they now?"

Groaning, Buffy fell back on the bed, barely missing her prom dress and closed her eyes. After nearly a minute, she opened them to look up at Willow. "Not much. Will's more considerate, easier to talk to..."

"Sounds like Spike to me...at least the way he is to me. Compare the way Spike treats me to the way Will treats you."

"Oh God," Buffy said as she sat up. "You're right. I never made the comparison." A tentative smile curled her lips but quickly fell as Willow watched Buffy mouth Angel. "But before I can let my heart even consider Will, I have to not only let Angel go, but I have to know if Will's here to stay."

"Exactly. And what better way to let go of Angel than to have him gone...to LA...as in not here, in Sunnydale. As for the Will staying part? Well," Willow shrugged. "I don't know how to do that part. But," she added, still grinning. "That doesn't mean that there isn't a way to find out. It's just a matter of time."

She watched Buffy snort in disbelief as the slayer shook her head and closed her eyes—a small smile curling her lips. If I can only get rid of the sadness I see in her eyes, Willow thought to herself, then I'd know for sure my friend would be alright.

It wasn't until the Spikes had reached the front door of the Summers' home, that Spike realize that not only was the slayer still home, but Willow was there as well. He stopped and turned to his other self. "Do you feel them?"

Will nodded as his eyes darted up to the lit window on the second floor. "Yeah, I sure do. I wonder if he's told her yet?"

Spike shook his head as he lifted his hand up to knock on the door. "Nah, knowing him, he'll wait until they're on patrol." He shrugged and rapped his knuckles on the wood. "Oh well," he said as he shrugged. "Another interesting night at the Summers' home. Knowing our luck, Peaches will come and we can have a bloody party," he whispered as he leaned against the door frame and rubbed his weary face. A part of himself was shocked at how bitter he sounded, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He didn't want Angel to leave and in some ways, it felt like a repeat of a hundred years ago, when Angelus told Spike to stay in London with Dru while his sire went to Romania to meet Darla.

Dru cried for two days and that was even before Angelus had been cursed. And Spike couldn't seem to shake the uneasy foreboding that plagued his thoughts since Angelus had left.

A part of him hadn't even been too shocked when Darla found them a week later as she told Angelus' childer the news.

And now, Angel was leaving again—also because of a woman.

Pushing himself off the door, he stepped back once he heard the steady footsteps of Joyce Summers as she walked across the wooden floor towards the front door. Pushing his sire out of his mind, he turned to Will. "Be nice, mate, and don't worry—she doesn't bite," he added, unable to hide the smirk on his face when he caught the nervous flinch on Will's face. "But she does wield a mean ax, so don't piss her off—"

"Spike! And Spike?" Joyce greeting, unable to hide the surprise and wonder in her voice, after she swung open the front door. "You must be the other Spike, from that other world?"

"That's right," Will said gruffly.

Spike snickered as he shook his head at his other self. "Don't mind him, Joyce. I think it's been a while since he's met a mortal mother..."

"Spike!" Spike heard Will growl out as he watched Joyce struggle unsuccessfully at hiding her growing grin.

"Be nice, Spike," she admonished gently as she opened the door and waved them in.

Just as Spike was going to tell Joyce that Will needed an invite, he watched his other self step across the threshold with obvious ease. Confused, he almost asked him how, but watched Will shake his head, mouthing: Later.

"Mom!" Spike's head shot up at the sound of the slayer's voice and watched as both Buffy and Willow began running down the steps. "Who is—" she stopped as her eyes landed on them. "Oh, hi Spike, Will. Come on in." Spike could hear the slayer's heartbeat speed up at the sight of Will and inwardly grinned. She may be in love with Angel, but she's halfway there with Will as well, he thought to himself as he leaned to the side and grinned at Red.

"Hello love," he said quietly as he watched Willow step out from behind Buffy and skip across the room towards him.

"Hi," she said nervously as she slid to a stop right next to Joyce. Spike watched as she wrung her hands nervously, just itching to jump in his arms. It's so nice to know that I have that effect on her, he thought to himself.

Unable to hide her smile at Willow, Joyce waved at the girl. "Go on, Willow. Buffy already told me about you two," she said softly.

Jumping out from behind Joyce, Willow ran into Spike's arms, giggling as he lifted her in the air.

"Are they always like that?" Joyce asked Buffy and Will once the three of them moved into the kitchen. Both Buffy and Will were sitting at the kitchen table as Joyce was making hot cocoa.

"Yes," Will answered, surprised to hear the slayer's voice saying the same thing as well.

"If it wasn't so cute, I think I'd be sick," Buffy added, grinning over at her mom.

"I wouldn't go that far, pet."

Buffy smirked as she glanced over at the vampire. "You're only saying that because it's you. If it had been me and Angel acting like that—you would've been sticking your finger down your throat and gagging—"

"I wouldn't—"

"Yeah, you would, mate. I know, because I did," Spike said, walking into the room with his arm around Willow.

Willow leaned up on her tiptoes and gave Spike a quick kiss. "You ready to go, Buffy? I've got a paper to write for English."

"Sure thing, Wills," Buffy answered, pushing back her chair. She smiled at Will. "Have fun, you two. And stay out of trouble," she added.

"Yes ma'am!" Will said, snapping his hand in a salute.

"You're such a jerk," she told him gently. "Bye mom—see you later. Bye Spike, Will!"

Before Buffy could drag Willow out of the room, the red-haired witch stopped and kissed Spike once again. "Bye," she whispered against his lips.

Will studied the couple quietly, wondering when watching them together had stopped hurting. He couldn't actually pinpoint when, but it had. Although he could blame the dreams for a lot of his ability to get over his Willow, he knew that it wasn't just that. Even before he had left his world, he had been feeling angry at Willow and her need to be with his sire—regardless of Will's feelings about the matter. She was supposed to be in love with him, and yet her actions seemed to dictate that it had been Angelus she was in love with and he was just her thing on the side.

What a mess, Will thought to himself as he watched Joyce place a mug of hot cocoa in front of him and Spike. She turned around, grabbed hers from the counter behind her and then sat down at the table with them.

"So Will, how do you like this Sunnydale?"

Buffy sighed softly as her fingers ran across the bottom seam of her Kevlar vest, thinking about what her and Willow had talked about earlier that evening.

Once she had admitted out loud that she was attracted to Spike, it was almost as if the dam had burst in her heart, flooding her with a whole new batch of emotions in regards to Spike's doppelganger. Curiosity, fear, intrigue, attraction, desire...a sense of relief with the knowledge that he too was a preternatural being like her. Although a part of her still wanted that 'normal' life she constantly strove for, Buffy innately knew that a regular human mate would never fit into that package. Her life was fraught with too many dangers. Her duty pretty much superceded everything else in her life—including love. Whomever she chose to be with for the rest of her short life, he would have to be someone that understood her as a person and as a slayer.

Other than Cordelia and Xander, Buffy knew of no humans that could do that.

So, where did that leave Buffy?

In love with a souled vampire that she could never have and attracted to a soulless vampire that she could have—if she let herself.

"I guess that's the problem then," she said softly, suddenly tensing as she felt Angel's familiar presence.

"What's the problem?" he asked quietly, stepping out of the shadows of a building, joining her on the sidewalk.

"Angel," she said as she glanced over at him, ignoring the rush of excitement that tingled throughout her body at the sight of her vampire. Her eyes finally met his and just like two weeks before when she had seen him in the library before the de-ratting spell, she knew something was wrong. "What happened?" She asked as she stopped walking, grabbing his arm.

He looked away from her and began staring off to the side. "I don't think we should talk about this here. Not with Faith loose." His free hand grabbed hers, gently pulling it off his arm. "Let's go back to your house," he said, still holding her hand in his.

"Angel! What?"

"Not here, Buffy. Trust me, not here," he added, a bit more forcibly.

Dread filled her as he gently urged her to begin walking. Unwilling to resist him—even if it meant waiting a bit longer for whatever horrible thing that Angel had to say.

And she knew it was horrible. Horrible like when he told her two weeks ago that he was leaving Sunnydale...that his redemption no longer lay with her. Horrible like discovering that the man she had already fallen in love with was a vampire—the very thing that she was born to kill.

Horrible like finding out that something so beautiful and so right—making love to the one person that you were born on this earth to love—could have such a horrid consequence as Angel losing his soul.

Within ten minutes, they made it to her house.

Another minute and they had climbed the tree by her bedroom window and both were inside her room.

Another five minutes left Buffy sobbing in Angel's arms, all the while his eyes were shut against the pain in his own heart.

Another ten minutes, and Angel was gone from her life.

Twenty minutes after that, Angel, once Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, the childe of Darla and favorite of the Master, now a souled vampire in search of his redemption, was driving out of Sunnydale, towards LA.

Will looked down at the unconscious human he had just finished feeding from and sighed inaudibly at the strange twists his unlife had taken. Other than that young kid he killed the first night he found himself in this world, he hadn't killed.

And, he hadn't missed it much either.

It was almost as if his demon had been tamed.

Just another thing in a long list of changes, he thought to himself, as a picture of a young, blond slayer flashed through his mind. Irritated at himself and his thoughts, he glanced up to Spike chuckling softly at him.

"What?" Will asked as he scowled at his double.

"You're doing it again," Spike said, waving at Will's face. "Your face is all broody and if I didn't know better, I'd think I was hunting with my souled sire and not my soulless double."

"Sod off," Will snapped as he shook out a cigarette and lit it. "Just because you got the girl—who happens to love you and not our Poof of a sire—doesn't mean everyone else should be as happy as you are." Will paused as he pursed his lips. "This isn't any easier than me chasing after my Willow in my world. The slayer loves Angel. Not me, Angel. How in the hell did I do this to myself again? Why do I always want his leftovers? First Dru, then Willow and now Buffy. Souled or not, I'm still panting after Angelus' women." He snarled, feeling his face change as his demon finally rose and had stomped out of the alley—not even caring if Spike was following him.

At first, when they had talked of this in his apartment, Will had felt oddly elated—knowing that he hadn't been alone in his feelings for the slayer. Once Spike had admitted that he had been attracted to the slayer, it had opened the door for Will to finally accept his own feelings. But then, when they had gone to see Joyce and he saw the slayer—knowing that she was going to have heart shattered later on, and not by Will—his mood plummeted. How could he compete with Angel? Angel had a soul; Buffy believed they were soulmates. What was Will, when compared to Angel? A soulless demon from another world who had been dropped onto her doorstep. He'd never wanted to be the consolation prize, and yet that's all he seemed to be. For once in his long, crazy unlife Will wanted to be the fucking grand, all-expense paid prize! Just to be number one—not two.

He suddenly growled as he slammed his fist on the brick wall beside him, ignoring the sharp rush of pain as the bones broke. Unfortunately, it didn't help push the frustration and anger away, so he lifted his hand up to hit the damn thing again.

A familiar pale hand stopped him.

Growling, Will whipped around and found himself staring at Spike. "Let go," Will demanded through his clenched teeth.

"No," Spike said. "You're acting like a fool!"

"And you wouldn't be?"

His double then rolled his eyes at Will, snorting in agreement. "Alright, you got me there, mate. But just listen to me before you start falling down this road of self-mutilation. I've been where you're at."

"Bullshit. When? A hundred years ago? Well, so was I. I remember it all too well, spending day after day holding a broken Dru as she wailed on and on about her missing Daddy. Like he wasn't my sire first," Will snarled, almost gratified at the presence of that familiar pang of jealousy that he had fought against for over a hundred and thirty years. "And then bloody Darla comes around, and I fucking find myself playing nursemaid for both of the bints for two fucking weeks before Darla finally pulled herself out of her funk!"

A part of himself was shocked at the rage Will felt and how strongly his demon reacted to the memories. It had been nearly three weeks since it had surfaced for anything other than feedings, that at times Will wondered if he had lost it somehow. But for the second time that night, its anger surged through his body, Will found himself welcoming it—enjoying its familiarity in such an unfamiliar world filled with unfamiliar feelings and complications.

It was like the returning of an old friend.

Ah, reunions are nice, he thought to himself as he fought the urge to howl into the night like some injured wolf protesting his afflictions.

"—And then you spent another two months solely taking care of Dru—until she finally just stopped crying," Spike had said softly. "But what you didn't go through was nearly six months of living hell taking care of Dru after you helped send your sire to Hell.

"All over again, I was reminded why I was second best and why he was a better vampire than I could ever be. When I saw her in the arms of that Chaos Demon, something inside of me just broke. Even though I had tried again, a couple of times even, to win her back after that, a part of me knew it was over." Spike released Will's arm as he fell against the alley wall. "And when I caught her again with the same demon, we finally just talked. And you're right—we've never been the vampire that Dru loved and desired. Angelus was her only real love.

"With Willow—she loved you. She still loves you. Whatever is going on between her and your sire, it has more to do with their demon's attraction than it has to do with her feelings towards you. Yes, you did end up becoming second choice for the time being, but if things had been different, you might have won that little battle."

As Will thought about what Spike said, his face slipped back to its human mask. "Oh, the ironies, my man...the bloody ironies," he whispered as the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a sardonic grin.

"What ironies?" Spike asked, lighting a cigarette again.

"I don't even care anymore—not about Willow," Will confessed in between snorts of cold laughter. "I would've died for her and now, it's like a memory...a good memory, but a memory just the same."

Growling, Spike threw up his arms. "Now you're bloody confusing me, mate? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"After three weeks of these dreams and not having to deal with the every-other-day-relationship I was having with her, I realized, it was the best thing that could've happened to me—me getting sent here. Obviously, if my sire was trying to kill me," he added, sarcasm lacing his voice. "But none of this takes fixes my problem with the slayer. So what if Angel is leaving. What difference does that make if Buffy still is in love with him?"

Spike just shook his head at Will, snickering softly.

"What?"

"It's just that you're so obtuse sometimes." Suddenly, Spike let out a harsh laugh. "Did you realize how crazy that sounded? I'm telling myself that I'm obtuse." Spike growled softly at himself.

"Well, you are. And so am I," Will said, chuckling. "So, why am I obtuse?" he asked, turning the conversation back on the topic of the slayer.

"Because, you know that we can be in love with more than one person at a time. You are. I am. Hell, even Peaches is."

"Yeah, but we're vampires and the slayer isn't."

"And that's important why? If I remember right, vampires aren't even supposed to love and yet our fucking bloodline is filled with feeling demons. Try another one, mate."

Will sighed as he thought about what Spike had said. What was Will afraid of? That Buffy wouldn't be able to be in love with two men at the same time? That she would accept him as her partner, but secretly hold Peaches in the sacred spot of her mate in her heart?

Well, that about sums it up, he thought to himself. Lifting his head, he looked over at his other self and spoke his fears.

Spike nodded in understanding. "If I were you, I'd be feeling the same thing. But luckily, I'm not you. And I can tell you right now, she's already halfway in love with you. All you have to do is watch her around you—listen to her heartbeat and take a sniff when you see her—her arousal soars every time she sees you. Just let it go and enjoy it. She'll come around. She just needs some time to heal..." Spike said over his shoulder as he began walking towards his car. "Can you do that, mate?" He asked Will as he turned around, still moving.

"Do what?"

Spike growled, rolling his eyes heavenwards. "Let it be, mate. Can you just let it be? Be her friend; help her and stand by her when she needs it. One last thing, and then I'm shutting my trap and I'll deny I ever gave you advice on how to woo my bloody mortal enemy."

Will watched his other self grin as the blond vampire shook his head in amazement.

"Okay, what? I'm all ears, Spike."

Spike stopped walking and leaned against the black DeSota as he lit a cigarette. "One thing I know about the slayer is that she loves like we do. Completely and totally. If you give her time, she'll be yours."

"You're sure?"

Spike nodded and opened the car door, slipping in behind the wheel. Once Will was inside the car, Spike looked over at him. "I'm sure, mate. Bloody sure."

As Spike pulled the car out onto the street, Will thought about what his double had said and realized he was right. If his dreams were any indication of the inner workings of the blond slayer, she did love like they did. And if, or when according to Spike, she finally admitted to herself and Will her feelings towards the vampire, she wouldn't ever leave him.

As Spike pulled the car out onto the street, Will thought about what his double had said and realized he was right. If his dreams were any indication of the inner workings of the blond slayer, she did love like they did. And if, or when according to Spike, she finally admitted it to herself and Will her feelings towards the vampire, she wouldn't ever leave him.

With that thought, Will leaned back against the car seat and stared out the window, finally relaxing for the first time since Angel had visited his apartment earlier that day.

Maybe this life—in this world that was not his own—would turn out.

He could only hope.

Willow's eyes shot open at the sound of Spike's footsteps as he made his way down the long flight of steps from the store to their home. Seconds later, she heard the key turn the lock and the door open slowly.

He was being so quiet and stealthy, Willow was almost loath to break his concentration, but she needed to speak with him. Or if she were really honest with herself, she needed to be held by him.

She had just gotten off the phone with Buffy ten minutes before and it took every bit of her restraint not to run over to her friend's house and hold the heart-broken slayer. She might've even talked Spike into escorting her over there, if Will hadn't shown up at Buffy's bedroom window himself.

Willow then bade her friend good-bye, innately knowing that Will would do whatever he could to help the slayer out. Even if he hadn't admitted it, Willow knew the her mate's double was already in love with the slayer and an in-love Spike would do whatever he could to make his chosen feel better.

It was like in their make-up or something.

Sitting up in bed, she switched the bedroom light on and had to stifle a giggle at Spike's expression.

"Hi," she whispered.

His scarred eyebrow shot up as he shook his head at her in mock dismay. "Hello, Red. I didn't even realize that you were awake," he admitted before pulling his tee-shirt over his head. Once bare-chested, he sat down on the edge of the bed and began unlacing his boots. "I take it, the Poof talked to the slayer tonight."

She nodded, not surprised that he already knew. Other than that chance meeting at Buffy's house, they hadn't talked much since she left for school earlier that morning. Of course he talked to Angel since she had left. He was Spike's sire. And since their little vacation in the other world, Spike and Angel had finally managed to mend their relationship. "Yeah, I just got off the phone with her not ten minutes ago. If Will hadn't shown up over there, I was going to ask you to take me to her house so I could spend the night."

"How's she doing?"

Willow pursed her lips and shook her head. "Not good. That this happened right before the Prom only makes it worse."

Growling softly, Spike kicked off his jeans and flung himself onto the bed beside her. "I know. I told him as much today when he stopped by. He was pretty adamant about leaving—even if he really didn't want to." Spike suddenly snorted—disbelief plastered across his face. "The fucking fool said that Will could take her to the Prom just as easily as he could."

Willow groaned loudly, shaking her head. "How old is he? 247 vampire years—plus the obligatory 25 years of mortal living and he thinks that someone could replace him—just like that?" She couldn't help the melodramatic sigh that slipped out of her mouth. Angel was just so exasperating at times. Almost like a tarnished innocent, as incongruent as that thought was. "I know that she knew it was going to happen. But in her mind, she put off freaking about this—until Graduation—knowing that he was still going to be here."

Spike suddenly rolled over on top of her, cupping her face as he stared into her eyes intently. Her stomach rolled slowly as the nerves in her body began to stir in excitement, despite her worry for her friend. Just feeling him this close to her, did her in. "Love, let it go. Let my other self take care of this. He's going to stay there with her most of the night. She's in good hands."

Biting her bottom lip, Willow nodded—knowing he was right. "Is Angel gone?"

"Yeah love. He left right after leaving Buffy's. Matter-of-fact, Will and I passed him on the highway as we were coming back." He lifted a finger and wiped her face, catching a tear that was slowly running down her face. "No more tears, 'kay?" He asked right before kissing her.

A few minutes later, a breathless and now naked Willow nodded in compliance. "No more tears."

Will shook off his duster as he listened to the slayer wished Willow a good-night over the phone and closed the connection. Sitting on the bed beside her, he wrapped his arm around her and once she turned the phone off, took it from her and placed it on her nightstand. He bent his head down and met her watery eyes as he watched her struggle to hold the tears inside. "Pet, it's okay. You can cry," he said as he gently tugged her languid body over on top of his. As he felt her wet face as it pressed against his chest, he rubbed her back as the sobs shook her body.

Neither of them spoke again and her tears finally subsided as her body gave into the exhaustion that was surely plaguing her. It was then, as he listened to her slowly and steady breaths signaling she was sleeping, did he finally admit to himself that he was in love her. How it had happened, was anyone's guess. Remembering what his other self had told him earlier that night, Will decided that Spike had been right.

Just let it go and enjoy it, Will mentally repeated the words that Spike had told him.

As he looked over at the covered window, he thought of his sire's double—who was most likely now on his way to LA—and silently wished him luck in his new life.

Even though Will would never acknowledge it out loud, he knew he owed Angel for so much more than a bank account and part-ownership of the mansion and the apartment building. Angel not only helped Will find himself in this new world, but he also knew that whatever chance he had with the beautiful young woman Will held in his arms, it was because of Angel.

Just as a hundred years before, when Angel’s curse opened the way for Spike to win Dru's heart, Angel's absence gave Will the chance to do the same with Buffy.

He only hoped the end result was better this time around.

It had been just sheer luck that Willow found out. If she hadn't needed to pick up a book from her parents' house, she wouldn't have checked the messages on the machine until later on that day, and by then it would be too late; her parents would have already been home.

Hitting the rewind button on the machine for the fourth time, Willow stood there—her stomach in knots as she mentally went over everything that needed to be done before they got home. The machine beeped, signaling it was done rewinding and Willow pushed the play button for the fifth time in as many minutes. Seconds later, her mother's saccharine-sweet voice played over the speakers—filling the house with an eerie sense of doom.

"Willow honey, where are you? It's ten PM on a school night...you aren't with that Bunny girl again, are you?" Sheila Rosenberg let out a heavy sigh, laced with just the right amount of exasperation to make Willow cringe in dread. "We need to have a serious talk. I was just informed by the Oxford Alumni Association that you aren't registered to attend there this fall." Her mother paused and Willow could see the older woman in her mind's eye—sitting straight in a chair, phone in hand, with a disapproving scowl marring the elder Rosenberg's otherwise attractive face. "I thought we agreed that you were going to Oxford." No mother, you agreed and I didn't say anything to dissuade you, Willow thought bitterly and almost immediately she felt the muscles in her shoulders tighten with stress. It seemed like every time Willow had to deal with her parents in the past few years, she morphed into this half-crazed bundle-of-nerves stranger that she didn't even recognize. "After talking with your father, we decided to cut our trip short and come home. There's still time to re-submit your application to Oxford. I know that you think that you know what you're doing, but honey, you're just a child. These kind of decisions—"

Willow slammed down the stop button angrily—shutting her mother's irritating voice off in the middle of her diatribe.

A flash of guilt filled her and she shook it off. "It wasn't as if I haven't heard it before," she muttered to herself, inwardly wondering how her parents managed to wield so much power over her even though they were gone so much of the time. Groaning softly, she left the kitchen and headed for the stairs, running up them to get to her room. Once inside her sanctuary, she dropped her backpack onto the floor and fell onto her bed. What was she going to do? Run away? Move out? How was she going to explain to her parents why she wasn't going to Oxford, or Harvard and Yale? That she was planning to attend USC-Sunnydale on a full scholarship—picking her own course load—emphasizing both ancient history and computers.

They were going to disown her.

Growling under her breath, she rolled over onto her stomach and grabbed the phone. Quickly dialing Spike's cell phone number, she settled back onto her pillow and patiently waited for her lover to pick up the phone.

She needed him and his deviousness if she planned to survive this latest visit from her parents.

Of that, Willow was sure.

All it took was one look at the panic-stricken Willow, for Buffy to know that something had happened to the redhead. A part of the Slayer was grateful for another crisis—it kept her mind off the two vampires that were in her life: the one that had left Sunnydale that night before and the other one, who was at that very moment, asleep in Buffy's bed.

Inwardly smiling, the Slayer thought back to the night before and the conversation she had had with Will. Hours after she had cried to herself to sleep, she finally had awoken to a warm glow that filled the room. At first, she had been taken aback, unsure of the light source, but when her eyes focused, she gasped softly at the sight of a half a dozen lit candles that were scattered across her room—shining hope in what she felt like her otherwise bleak life.

A tendril of confusion had wormed its way through Buffy's mind as she wondered who would've done just a thing, when a cool finger caressed the sensitized skin on her arm. She had glanced down, noting the familiar black fingernail and couldn't help but smile...

Spike...she had thought to herself and then corrected herself. "Will?"

"'Allo love, feeling better?" he had asked, whispering in her ear.

For a moment, she had said nothing as she mentally probed that area of her heart that was Angel's—feeling a deep, but familiar pang of loss fill her. Shuddering, she rolled over onto her back, settling into a spot right next to the vampire and had looked over at him—not at all surprised by the peaked interest she saw in his eyes. "Salvageable," she had said softly, not wanting to wake up her mother who was sleeping in the next room.

"Meaning...?"

She then chuckled lightly, turning to face him as she had propped her head up with her hand and began plucking at the comforter beneath them. "Meaning I've been here before...this ache I feel, I've felt a few times before." She remembered giving him a small smile as she shrugged, feeling oddly indifferent about the whole mess. Buffy had known, even then—only hours after Angel had left—that it was most likely because she had already cried so many tears...so many different times for Angel, that nothing short of the souled-vampire's death could really destroy her. She had no doubt things would be rough without him in her life, but she also believed that she would survive, just as she had after he lost his soul and that awful summer following her sending Angel to hell.

Looking back at both of those times was oddly comforting to her. They stood as stark examples of what could happen if Angel were to lose his soul again—prices too high for either of them to risk happening once again.

Those were the reasons Angel had left.

Somewhere between the time Angel had told her he was leaving earlier that night and then—while lying in Will's arms—it had become Buffy's mantra. Remember what happened before...remember what could happen again...

Every time the pain became too much for her, she recalled how she had felt the day after her seventeenth birthday when the reality of her actions came pounding down on top of her...

The "Angel and Buffy Fairy Tale" became a horror story of colossal proportions—something that she never, ever wanted to go through again.

"Love?"

She then blinked her eyes and looked up at the blond vampire. Seeing him sit there, watching her—his concern nearly palatable—had warmed her heart. And for just a moment, she could almost feel the possibilities with him, as if he were willing them to her through his cerulean gaze. "Yes?" she had asked him after taking a deep breath.

"Are you going to be okay?"

After nearly a moment of silence, she just nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine." She then sighed, feeling herself frowning as she had searched for the right words that would explain the quagmire of feelings that were swirling maniacally inside of her. She soon realized it would be nearly impossible and laughed softly at herself. "It's not like I didn't expect this, because I did. Even before he told me he was leaving, I knew—deep down inside—that he was going to leave me eventually. That," she had paused as she stared unseeingly at the ceiling above her. "That something had to give. That sharing your life with the person that you love—all the while fearing the same thing that innately you want to give to them—happiness—is not a future—for either of us—was not a good place to be. And even if Angel gets his soul anchored, unless it happens a few years down the line, I don't think even then, he'll feel comfortable spending his life with me. He has too much guilt to allow himself that kind of happiness. He doesn't feel worthy enough," she ended, shrugging. "And considering how well I bear guilt, I can't condemn him for that. I'm not sure I'd be much better."

Will had just nodded, his arm tightening around her shoulder, tugging her upper body over to lay on his chest, while his fingers played with her hair.

Buffy still had no idea how long they lay together like that—neither of them speaking—as he silently comforted her—until she finally fell asleep again. It wasn't until the alarm clock blared through out the room, that they spoke again.

It was then, in her darkened room, as she sat across from the blond vampire did he ask her if she would like him to be her escort to the prom.

At first, she had balked—saying that she didn't need to go...

But he had convinced her, pointing out that he knew she had really wanted to go and that he would be honored to take her.

Buffy still couldn't believe that line—even hours later—but she still gave in, telling Will it was she that was honored.

And in a way, she would be. Although he wasn't the person she had wanted to go with, she knew first hand, she would have fun with him. Not to mention the fact that he and Spike had already discussed it, and were planning on all the four of them going to together.

Only on the Hellmouth, thought Buffy, wondering how it would look as two Spikes, Willow and her walked into the school gym together. Chuckling inwardly, Buffy studied her friend, noting Willow's frown had yet to disappear even through Buffy's private musings.

"What's up?" the Slayer asked, pushing her thoughts away from Angel and Will and plopped down in the chair next to her best friend. Yawning, Buffy took a sip of her coffee as she surreptitiously looked around the library for Giles, silently wondering where either of her Watchers were. Later, she told herself, noting her friend's nervousness as Willow picked at the cover of her red Calculus textbook. Wills needs me now, Buffy told herself.

"Oh you wouldn't believe it," Willow said, her voice laced with dread. The redhead looked up from the book and met Buffy's inquisitive stare. "My parents—they're coming home today."

"Oh shit," Buffy whispered, remembering with incredible clarity the last time Sheila Rosenberg graced Sunnydale with her presence: Willow, Buffy and Amy were nearly burnt at the stake. Not to mention how their presence could affect Willow's now flourishing love life—with a vampire no less.

And they thought a musician was bad, thought Buffy as she watched Willow sit up in her chair and angrily slam the cover of the book down.

"Oh shit's right!" Willow whispered harshly. "She left a message on the machine. It was ten o'clock and so of course I wasn't at home." Willow rolled her eyes dramatically. "She wanted to know why I wasn't going to Oxford and it sounds as if that's her mission—to convince me to change my mind. She's bringing home another application, Buffy!" Willow's eyebrows creased in worry. "She said I wasn't old enough to make such an important decision. I'm eighteen years old, Buffy! They can't do this to me!"

Buffy reached out and grabbed Willow's hand, squeezing it affectionately. "You'll get through it, Wills. They only stayed a week the last time they were here," Buffy pointed out.

Willow shook her head no. "I think this is worse than that. As long as things are going according to their plans or vision for me, everything's fine. They continue to travel, leaving me alone—like it should be. But every time something has happened to disrupt their view of me, they take it upon to themselves to change me back to where they need me to be." Willow snorted, shaking her head in disgust. "The last time I heard that tone in my mother's voice was when I wanted to shop for my own clothes. I was thirteen and sick and tired of being picked on by Cordy, Harmony and Aurora. We have money. There was no need for my mother to shop for me at Penney's and I told her as much. Well, she didn't like that and I've yet to be able to shop for my own clothes with their money. What I have on now? I bought with the other Willow's money and brought it home with me from the other world."

The blond Slayer sighed in commiseration. This was so not of the good, she thought to herself, flashing back to her own experiences the year before with the clueless Joyce Summers. Buffy, for the most part, just didn't think about Willow's parents, because they were gone so much. Ever since she had met her best friend, the Rosenbergs' had spent almost all their time away from their daughter. At first, Buffy was envious of Willow's freedom; not to have your mother hovering over you—questioning every thing you do—wanting to know everywhere you went, but as she had gotten to know Willow better, Buffy could see how much the elder Rosenbergs' absence hurt Willow.

And now, just as Willow had finally accepted that her parents weren't interested in her life, they decided to drop back into their daughter's life as if they had never left it.

"So, did you tell Spike?" Buffy finally asked.

Willow nodded forlornly. "He offered to kill them for me, but of course, I told him no." Willow sighed, grinning self-depreciatively. "Although, it would solve the problem, the guilt would just kill me." Her head fell down on the table as she sighed dramatically once again. "I don't know what I'm going to do." She turned her head to lay her cheek flat on the wooden table. "You know, I do love them—in some sort of detached way—but I don't care for them nearly as much as I do about you, Xander, Giles—you know, my real family. They did this to me—they left me! They don't love me—if they even know what love means. Not like Spike does—or you, Xander and Giles—or even Oz! I don't even want to go home tonight," she whispered, dread filling her voice.

"And if you don't?" Buffy asked. "Don't go home...what will they do?"

Willow lifted her head and stared at Buffy incredulously. "I can't do—do that, Buffy! They're my—my parents!"

Buffy gave her friend a small smile and shrugged nonchalantly, inwardly thinking that this was exactly what Willow should do. Why should she stay at home and play her parents' game, when Willow's life had gone beyond that? Not now, when her friend had somewhere else to call home. "You said it yourself...you're eighteen, you're practically living with Spike as it is—why should you go home? You don't need their money, do you?"

Willow shook her head, her mouth still hanging open with an incredulous look on her face. "N—no," she answered, stuttering softly.

"And school? You were planning on going to USC-Sunnydale, right?"

"Yeah..."

"And it's on a scholarship, right?" Buffy asked, already knowing the answer.

Willow nodded yes as her eyes closed in pain. "Full scholarship. If I wanted to live on campus, I could."

Buffy just stared at her friend, almost willing the witch to come to the same conclusion as the Slayer already had: that it was time for Willow to spread her wings and leave her parent's home. Who would've thunk it? Buffy asked herself, innately knowing that three months ago there would've been no way that the Slayer would've advised Willow to do this. But things change, Buffy thought. Three months ago, I was seventeen years old and still trusted the organization that had me under their care, now I can barely think of the CoW without flinching.

It may not be the same circumstances as Willow and her parents, but the sentiment was still the similiar. Sheila and Ira Rosenberg didn't love Willow—at least not the young woman who was sitting across from Buffy at that moment. No, they loved their ideal of Willow—the brilliant little girl who did everything under her power to please her absentee parents—not the Willow that faced endless dangers that the Hellmouth threw at Scooby Gang for the past two years...not the Willow who, first of all, fell in love with a musician who later turned out to be a werewolf...and certainly not the same Willow that met her darkside, survived two encounters with a rogue Slayer, two Angelus', two Spikes...and finally not the same Willow that was desperately searching the globe for a soul-restoration spell so the young witch could spend an eternity with her chosen mate.

No, Ira and Sheila Rosenberg had no idea who their real daughter was and as far as Buffy was concerned, it was about time they learned the truth.

"Just think about it, Wills—but don't take too long, not if they're coming home tonight," Buffy told her friend as she stood up and grabbed her books and purse. Once the Slayer had everything, she held out her hand for her friend. Sighing, Willow took it and let Buffy pull the redhead to her feet.

Buffy then slipped her arm around Willow, hugging her friend tightly. "Don't worry about—everything will be okay. I mean they're just parents—it's not as if they're demons or anything, right?"

The Slayer watched as Willow's mouth curled into a reluctant smile as their eyes met in silent agreement. "I guess you're right, Buffy," she said as she grabbed the strap of her backpack and swung it over her shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here. I don't want to be late for Mrs. Tanner's class again...she likes to hand out those detentions."

"Tell me about it. I've had five from her in the past month! What is her deal?" Buffy asked as they headed out of the library. "It's not as if I want to be late. Too bad I can't get excused on the account of a life-savage stuff."

Willow snorted, shaking her head at her friend. "If she did that, then half the class would be excused weekly, considering Xander, Amy and Cordelia are in there as well..."

It wasn't until Buffy was sitting in her desk, seconds before the last tardy bell rang, that she had decided to go pay Spike a visit during lunch and inform the vampire of her idea. She could tell Willow needed a little prodding, and besides, what better way to stave off Angel-missage then engross herself into Willow's problems?

It was just the kind of medicine that the doctor ordered, thought Buffy as she pulled out her History book.

"What the hell do you want?" Spike growled out as he stomped his way across the room towards the chair where his red shirt lay. "Aren't you at the wrong apartment, Slayer?"

Buffy ignored the blush that covered her features at the implied relationship between her and Will as she began to study the place that Spike had been calling home since his return to Sunnydale. It was small, but oddly enough not nearly as cramped as she had imagined it would be when Willow had described it to her nearly three weeks before. And she definitely liked it better than the factory; it had a homey-feel to it, whereas the factory was just that—a factory.

"Well?" Spike asked, standing in front of her as he blew out a lung full of smoke.

Frowning, Buffy waved her hand in front of her face before the cigarette smoke could tickle her nose, and sighed softly. "It's about Willow...and her parents."

A low-level growl filled the room, causing Buffy to nearly whip out her stake in defense. Forcing herself to remain calm, she walked over to the small kitchen table and flopped down with air of weariness. "She's really upset," Buffy told him softly as she watched the vampire stomp into the kitchen.

"Bloody wankers...if I could, I'd kill them for the pain they've put Red through...ignoring her all these years and then coming back to try and run her life again," Spike said, swinging open the refrigerator door and grabbing a blood bag. After tossing it into the microwave, he turned around to face Buffy, leaning against the kitchen counter. "So, do you have a better idea, pet?"

Grinning, she nodded. "Yeah, I do...so, is it true about the mansion? Angel gave it to both you and Will?"

Spike's scarred eyebrow arched as a slow, easy grin slid across his features. "Will told you, eh?"

"Yeah, he did...this morning. And get your mind out of that gutter you so like to spend your time in—nothing happened."

Spike nodded knowingly, the smirk still evident on his face. "Uh-hmm, whatever you say, Slayer."

"God, you are such an asshole, Spike," Buffy snapped, unable to hide the blush that was working its way across her face.

"I try," he said as he sat down across from her. "That's what you love about us."

"Us and love, Spike. Get real."

"Slayer," he said, warningly. "Let's not go down this road because you know you'd lose. So, tell me about your plan," he said, effectively changing the subject.

Gritting her teeth, she glared at her mortal enemy, visually picturing a dozen different ways she could make him suffer, and suddenly smiled as she felt her body relax. It works every time, she thought to herself as she met his sharp, blue gaze. How can Will and him be the same person? she inwardly asked not for the first time. Her relationship with Spike was filled with strife and anger...whereas Will was always gentle with her—even when he didn't know her—like his first night in this world when he saved Buffy's life. Amazing how fate changes us, she thought, tipping her head to the side as she nibbled on her bottom lip. "I think she should move in with you—tonight. Not even go home. I told her that this morning, and as much as she wants to, I don't think she will without the right push."

Spike sneered at her as he lit up another cigarette. "Slayer, she was already planning to move in with me...how is this going to solve anything?"

"Yeah, you're right. She was planning that—was being the operative word. As soon as she heard her mother's voice over the answering machine, everything changed. Spike, Willow is not an outright rebel—like you or me. She's one of those people that would quietly go through her life—outwardly playing the game all the while, inwardly rebelling. She hates confrontations, whereas we live for them. We're fighters—warriors—and she's like her namesake—a willow-tree, bending and bowing with the times, never breaking—and never making waves. And to be honest, with her parents, she couldn't be anything else but a willow-tree. They're not right, Spike. The last time she tried outwardly rebelling, Willow, Amy and I nearly got burned at the stake!"

Spike shook his head, snickering softly. "But Slayer, I heard Joyce was the head of that bloody organization—"

"You mean MOO? Yeah, she was. But she was also directly influenced by those demons, whereas the rest of the town wasn't. They were just sucked up into the frenzy. My mom said she was sorry, whereas Willow's mom rode her for a week for dating a musician." Buffy shook her head. "Willow's not going to stand up to them—no matter how much she wants to—and she needs to. These people have neglected Willow for ten years—never making sacrifices for her. Never loving her like she deserves to be loved, and yet Willow does everything she can to make them happy. She doesn't need them anymore. They don't give her anything other than a roof over her head, and you can do that. So, get over to the mansion—set up a room for her and then lay on that Spike-charm—which I know you have, being the recipient of it from Will and all—and convince her.

"Because if you don't—she'll be going to Oxford next year—dating some geeky guy that she doesn't care for and end up marrying and having a miserable life with."

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

"Work my Buffy-charm as well as talk to Amy and Xander—and have them pressure her as well."

"The whelp would do that?" Spike asked, unable to hide the astonishment in his voice.

Buffy nodded knowingly. "Xander may hate the ground you walk on, but he loathes Willow's parents. He, more than anyone else, knows how hurtful their neglect has been for her. Remember, he's known her the longest and watched it first hand."

Spike sighed, running his fingers through his mussed hair. "All right, Slayer, you've made your point."

"I have? So, you'll do it?"

He nodded tiredly. "Yeah, I'll do it. All it means is upping the schedule a bit, that's all." He stood up and left the room, heading for the sleeping area. Buffy watched him pick up his cellular phone and turn back towards her. "So, is Will at your place?"

She nodded yes. "Yeah, he stayed with me last night," she whispered, feeling the familiar stab of pain at the thought of Angel leaving her.

Whether he noticed her pain, Buffy didn't know. Instead he nodded stiffly and flipped open the phone. Seeing him taking the first step, Buffy pushed herself up from her chair and quietly saw herself out.

As she made the trek across town back to school, she tried ignoring the throbbing ache in heart as she wondered how Angel was doing.

She had to move on...it would kill her if she didn't.

There were just some things that Xander should never be asked to do, thought Buffy as she stood in front of her best friend, putting on her best 'pleading-face' as she waited for his answer.

After nearly two minutes,  Amy finally jabbed him in the side.  "So, what's the answer?"

Rolling his eyes, he turned back to Buffy and put on his best 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me-face.'  "You're serious?"

Loosening the tension in her shoulders for the umpteenth time that day, it was all Buffy could do not to strangle him.  He knew this was for the best—couldn't he see that?  "Of course, I'm serious, Xander.  She's freaking out!  I know she'd listen to all three of us—plus Spike.  She was going to do it anyway...they're never here...it's just this Oxford stuff..."

"Buffy," Xander said, interrupting her.  "This is Spike were talking about, right?"

Buffy nodded.

"Mortal enemy, hit-me-over-the-head-and-give-me-a-concussion-and-a-scar-Spike," he said as he lifted up a lock of hair.  "See! It's right there and you want me to talk her into living with two of them!"  He dropped his hand and gave her a half shrug.  "Hey, call me stupid, but don't you think what you're asking me is a bit out there—even for the Hellmouth?"

"But—"

"I know!" He said interrupting her.  "Oxford is really run by the minions of Hell and they want to turn her into a concubine?  Right?  That's gotta be it!  Immortal servitude...soul-at-risk type thing, right?"

"Not re—"

Frowning, he shook his head.  "Then tell me, how could Oxford be worse than living with two unsouled vampires?  Because, I gotta say, from where I sit it's looking like Oxford's a pretty good deal to me.  Call me funny that way, but I can't say that staying here would be better for her—health-wise or emotionally."

Buffy snorted in disbelief at Xander.  "What about what she wants, Xander?" She asked him between her clenched teeth.  "What about her feelings in all this?  You're no better than her parents if you think that shipping her off to Oxford is going to solve anything other than having Spike follow her.  Is that you want?  Her gone and him gone?  Where you won't be able to see her every day just to know she's alive and among the breathing?"

His face fell as her words sunk in.

Good, she thought to herself as she took another deep breath in a futile attempt to calm her already rattled nerves.  For the last three weeks he's been impossible, she silently observed, all the while reminding herself that yes, Xander was her friend, and just because she sometimes felt the need to slay him, didn't discount that she really loved him and needed him to be in her life...just as Willow needed him.  Smiling her best, 'please-listen-to-me-I-know-what-I'm-talking-about' smile back at her friend.

"And most importantly, because Spike won't hurt her whereas her parents will, that's why."

"And biting doesn't qualify as hurting?   Bringing her across doesn't qualify as hurting...oh wait, that's right, Spike won't do that without a restoration spell.  So, it's only a partial murder, because her soul will still be alive even if her body is going to be undead sometime in the near future!"

Buffy watched as Amy bristled at Xander's rising voice and then looked across at Buffy.  Buffy took a quick look-see around the nearly empty hallway and nodded once, inwardly praying that the witch wouldn't turn all three of them into rats when she teleported them.

"What the—"

"Oh Xander, shut up!"  Amy snapped as soon as they materialized in the school auditorium.  She plopped down on the stage floor and dangled her feet off the edge. "Buffy and I both knew you were going to start screaming, so we had a back-up plan!"

"You've been back for three weeks and you're zapping people around like—like—"

"Like rats," Buffy supplied as she giggled softly.

"Argh! Why can't I be like a normal high school guy and have normal male friends...you know, bonding at the soda machine with the gang as we talk about the latest football scores—"

"Xander, you don't even like football," Amy supplied, matter-of-factly.

"God!  That's not the point!"

"What is the point then, Xander?" Buffy asked as she plopped down next to Amy, turned her head and watched her friend pace the stage floor beside the two girls.

"The point is—I can't believe I have to choose between two evils—one being a vampire—a soulless vampire or her non-existent parents—for my best friend!"

"I know," Amy sighed, leaning back as she propped herself up by her shoulders.  "But it's her choice, Xan."

"And believe it or not, he loves her, Xander."

He snorted, waving his hand at Buffy.  "And Angel loves you!  Look where that got you—got all of us!"

"God!  You're impossible!"  Buffy yelled, jumping up and marching over to him as she clenched her fists in anger.  Why does he do this? she asked herself as she felt her eyes fill with angry tears.  Does he take great joy in torturing me?

"How does every argument we have end up having turn around and become about Angel and I?  How does that happen, Xander?  Angel doesn't have anything to do with this!  He's gone, Xander!  Gone!"  She stopped, feeling her voice crack and took a deep breath, desperately trying to reign in her emotions.  After nearly a minute, she looked back up at him and met his shocked eyes.  "Yes, he left last night—"

"I thought he was going to wait until graduation—"

"Well, so did I, but he was needed somewhere else now...so he left.  He'll be back for graduation, but he'll be gone for good after that."

Xander's shoulders deflated as he shook his head.  "Oh Buffy, I'm such an asshole...I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling her into his arms.  As Buffy wrapped her arms around him, she could feel that lump that had been sitting in her chest for most of the day finally unknot as deep sobs shook her body.  Although it was only a short cry—lasting a mere five minutes—she did feel better once she pulled away.  Breaking out of Xander's arms, she walked past Amy and stared out into the darkened auditorium as she gathered her thoughts.  Somehow, she had to make him understand why this was so important.

Willow needed this.

Hell, Buffy needed this for Willow.

Despite all her personal problems with Spike, Buffy knew without a doubt that Spike loved Willow.  He loved Willow like Angel loved her, and since Angel and her were a no-go, Willow and Spike just had to have a chance.

They had to.

"Xander, I know you don't trust Spike.  And I know that you think that Willow and I are crazy for falling in love with vampires, but we can't choose who we love.  And he loves her, Xander.  He loves her and he doesn't have a curse, and his demon loves her—Willow, not Skanky Willow, but Willow—with soul intact.intact.  He doesn't want Vamp Willow without her soul around, anymore than we do..."

"But Buffy, how can you trust him?"

Amy groaned, shaking her head with exasperation.  "We're not asking you to trust Spike for you—we're asking you to trust his love for her!"

"How can he even love her?  He's a soulless vamp, isn't he?  No one's answered that for me, and I would love to know how it's possible.  I mean, what you're asking me to do is to use my influence—influence that's taken forever to build—to persuade Willow to do something that's so against who she is, that if it fails, she will be lost.

"I don't know what her parents will do if she does this...I mean, Buffy, this is heavy-duty shit we're trying to talk her into.  They'll go ballistic.  Disowning her will be the least of her problems.  These people aren't right."

Buffy could only nod in agreement.  Wasn't that the whole reason she started this in the first place?  There's just something intrinsically wrong with two people that have a beautiful, intelligent daughter whom they basically ignored when she was being good.  Why did they even bother having Willow if they weren't going to be around to enjoy her?  Was she a mistake?  An afterthought?  Something that seemed like the right thing to do at the time?  God, whatever the case, it was amazing that Willow was as well-adjusted as she was.  Buffy had friends in L.A. whose parents weren't nearly as neglectful, and those same kids were into drugs and sex before their freshman year.  All Willow's ever done that could even be considered 'naughty' was date a musician and dabble in Wicca.

"Do you think they could be demons?" Amy asked as she pushed herself up onto her feet.

Buffy shook her head.  "I already checked.  No tinglies from me."

"Buffy!"  Xander yelled, unable to stop the grin from curling his lips.  "I can't believe you did that!"

The slayer chuckled softly, looking over at both her friends, and shrugged.  "Well, I just couldn't believe they could be human and act that way.  So I checked.  Just to be sure."

Sighing, Xander walked over to where Amy and Buffy were standing, and nodded once.  "All right—I'll agree!"  Both girls moved to hug him, but he held his hand out to stop them.  "But I want you to know why.  It's only because if she leaves, we'll never be able to keep an eye on them.  Because you're right, Buffy.  Spike would go to her, and I would much rather have him here with her here, where we can keep an eye out on him."

Thank God, Buffy thought to herself as she threw herself into Xander's arms.  Seconds later Amy's body crashed into them, and it was a miracle that he managed to remain standing.  Giggling, Buffy extracted herself from the group hug and checked her watch:  three-fifteen.

"Come on you guys, we're late!  We need to get to the library and begin working on Willow!  Spike's going to be showing up in less than a half an hour, and I promised him that I would have Willow nearly convinced by the time he got here!"

"What?  Buffy, we already talked about this—" the young witch said, unable to hid the exhaustion in her voice.  "I can't do that—"

"Why not?" asked Xander as he kneeled down in front of her and took her hand.  Her head snapped down and stared at her oldest friend in shock.  Grinning, he just shrugged.  He knew what her question was; it was the same one he asked himself a dozen or times since the three of them left the auditorium…What the hell are you doing, Alexander Lavelle Harris, convincing your best friend to move in with two unsouled vampires?  Are you nuts?  He didn't have an answer for either them, so he just took a deep breath and continued.  "You were planning on this anyway, right?"

Pursing her lips, Willow nodded.  "Well yeah...but that was be—before—"

"Before what, Wills?" Amy asked as she hopped up onto the table next to Buffy.  "Before your parents returned and discovered that their daughter had moved out?  Or were you just going to sorta move out, but not really?"

Willow's eyes widened even more before she nodded her head once.  "Yeah, that's what I was going to do.  I figured what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them—or me."

"And now?" the slayer asked her friend softly.  "What are you going to do now?"

The young witch dropped her head back and stared, unseeingly, at the ceiling above them, idly tracing the tiled pieces with her eyes.  "I don't know—I'm scared—"

Xander squeezed her hand and sighed.  He could understand her trepidation. and thoroughly empathized with her.  Willow's parents were scary in a totally different way than his own parents were.  If he could compare them, they were complete opposites in their preferred methods of abuse, but both sets of parents were abusive—of that Xander was sure.  Whereas his parents liked to take the hands on approach when it came to him...constantly belittling him—beating him—always reminding him that Xander was nothing to them...Willow's parents inaction said nearly the same thing.  With a few exceptions in both of their cases, the elder Harris' and Rosenbergs' treated their respective children as if Xander and Willow were inconveniences and bothers—not worth the space either child took up.

A discreet clearing of a throat pulled Xander out of his musings.  He looked over his shoulder to see Giles standing behind him, glasses in hand as he absently suckled on one of the wire frames.

"I had planned to remain neutral in this—mostly for Willow's sake—in case she needed someone to play buffer between her and her parents, but I find that I cannot remain silent."  He slipped his eyeglasses back on and turned to meet Willow's surprised gaze.  "You are of age, are you not?"

She nodded once.

"And your parents, for whatever reasons have been painfully negligent of you for a long time, have they not?"

Sucking in her bottom lip, she once again nodded yes as she absently wiped at the tears traveling down her face.

"Although I don't approve of your relationship with Spike on principle, I would have to be as blind as my colleague is not to see the notable and, most assuredly, positive influence Spike has had on you.  In short, I see a young, vibrant and intelligent woman sitting in front of me where only a couple of months ago sat an unsure and insecure girl."  Sighing, he shook his head as if he were shocked at his own words.  "As insane as this sounds, I do believe that Spike's intentions towards you are as honorable as any man's are to the woman he loves.  He's fiercely protective of you and is obviously completely and totally in love with you, and is determined to bring those characteristics out in you that we've only had a glimpse of until now.

"With that in mind, I think you should move in with him.  If I know Buffy, she will not allow you out of her sight for too long, so she'll be there to keep an eye out on you.  In this case, I believe that your best interests lie in Spike and not in your parents.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll return to my research."

The elder human turned on his heel and retreated back to his office.

A sad sob echoed loudly through out the otherwise silent room as Willow's body folded upon herself.  Sitting there, her face hidden by her hands, Xander felt a piece of his heart break along with hers.  Was this what it meant to grow up? He asked himself.  To realize that your parents aren't the ones that love you unconditionally?  That those illusions that you hold close to your heart, the ones that give you strength to get up every morning when nothing else does, shatter with the harsh truths of real life?

"Oh Wills, don't cry," he whispered as he stood on his knees and wrapped his arms around her shaking body.  "I'm so sorry you had to hear this..."

Sniffling, she sat up, still in his arms and let out a soft, but sardonic chuckle as her tears diminished.  "I know that, it just hurts to hear it...to hear it from Giles, of all people."

"Yeah, that sure came out of left field," Buffy muttered as she ran her fingers through Willow's hair.  "But he's right, Wills..."

Willow nodded as she stood up, breaking out of Xander's arms.  "I know," she whispered as she stared off towards the office where Giles had disappeared into.  "I'm just scared.  What if they disown me or—or commit me—or—or hire someone to hurt Spike or something...I mean, they could do anything.  My mom probably thinks I joined a cult or something.  She doesn't like the witch part—thinks I'm deluding myself with visions of magic and grandeur as a way of avoiding the harsh realities of 'real life.'  Goddess, she just drives me nuts!"

"Wills—"

"She probably hired some deprogrammer or something to cleanse my mind of all these fantastic ideas that are floating around in my otherwise logical and intelligent brain...I can just picture it now—sitting tied up in a hotel room while some guy tells me there's no such thing as magic until I float a pencil across the room—and then Spike and Will break through the door—with Buffy on their heels.  They've both got their 'grrr' face on—scaring the poor guy to death as Buffy gives him a piece of her mind....Goddess!  All because I don't want to go to Oxford!  You see, that's why I thought I would just play their game—have Spike move to England and then they'll be happy—I'll be sorta happy—and no one would get hurt..."

"But it won't be like that, Willow," Amy said as she slid off the table.  "And you know it.  You'll be miserable over there—Spike or not.  And you're eighteen years old—you have a right to make your own decisions about what you want to do with your life.  If this was six months ago, none of us would be telling you to do this—especially this—especially not Giles."

"But it's different now," Buffy said, standing up beside her.  "You're an adult now...old enough enough to make your own decisions about your life...whether you go to college here or Oxford or Boston—it's it's your choice.

"And that's what they're trying to take away from you"

"This is your life, Wills, and you're finally legally old enough to make your own decisions," Amy added.

"But what about food and clothes and all that other stuff?" Willow asked staring at the three of them.

"I think this is where I come in, Red," Spike said, stepping through the stacks with his double right behind him as they made their way down the steps to the main floor of the library.

Xander watched her face light up as she turned around and ran straight into Spike's arms.  The blond vampire caught her—pulling her small body up against his lean frame and kissed her, laughing as she wrapped her legs around his waist.  "Oh Spike, I missed you," she whispered against his lips, tears flowing freely from her eyes as they met his cerulean gaze.

"I missed you too, love.  It's all ready...your room at the mansion...I hired someone to clean up over there—there are three bedrooms ready and waiting...the kitchen's stocked with mortal food.  The water and electricity have been turned on.  Will and I packed the shelter up and as soon as it's nightfall, we'll be able to move the rest of the stuff out of there."

"You did all that...for me?"

Giving her a gentle smile, he nodded, and then kissed her tear-stained face.  "Of course I did, pet.  I love you.  Besides, you won't let me kill them—"

"—Spike!"

Chuckling, he continued.  "It was the least I could do..."  He pressed his lips against hers, giving her a chaste kiss.  "So...?"

Willow leaned back far enough to look into his eyes as if she were searching for something.  After nearly a minute, she turned her head and looked over at Xander.  "Xan?"

As Xander stood there, it finally sank in.  For over three weeks, he had been so angry at her for choosing to be with a vampire, of all things...for doing something that up until the the moment when Xander watched Spike catch her just a few minutes before, he believed was completely, irrevocably irresponsible...that he never saw what Buffy, Amy, Angel—even Giles—had seen:  that Spike truly loved Xander's best friend.

For once, the most outlandish and craziest thing was actually the best thing for Willow.

"Do it,Wills...it's what you want...and need," he said as his voice cracked with emotion.

Her face lit up and for a second, Xander swore he felt her relief as the tension ebbed from her body.  Giggling, she lifted her arms and turned back to face the vampire, swooping down and kissing him noisily on the lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

It wasn't until after nine PM that Willow had a chance to finally sit on her new bed.

 "Wow," she whispered to herself as she fell back and found herself staring at her new ceiling.  "Double wow."

There was a part of her that still couldn't believe that she had actually done it; she had moved out.

"I'm free," she said, hoping the act of saying those words would somehow magically make her feel better.  "Free to be who I want the way I want—" she stopped speaking as she felt her chest tighten at her words.  "Goddess, then why do I feel so bad?"

"Because pet," Spike said as he stepped into the room.  "You lost your parents tonight."  He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her.  "I'm sorry, Red..."

"It's not your fault," Willow said as she rolled over onto her stomach and scooted over to rest her head on his lap.  He began to play with her hair—soothing her frayed nerves.  "It would've happened eventually," she said in between sniffles, wondering why it was so easy to feel as if she belonged when she was with Spike, when the opposite had been true in her very own home.

Because they didn't love you, Willow, her inner voice chimed as she began squirming her way into Spike's lap—seeking his cool embrace and love.  Spike seemed to realize what she wanted and slipped his hands underneath her arms and pulled her languid body on top of his—resting her head on his chest.  Once she was situated, his fingers returned to her hair.

God, that hurts, she thought to herself as she realized the truth in those words  The reality of the matter was that her parents were nearly sociopathic in the way they treated Willow.  Everything they had done for her—at least in the past dozen years or so—was not because it was the best for Willow, but because it had been the best for Sheila and Ira.

If they had truly loved her, then they wouldn't have been so absent for all those years.  Willow couldn't remember a time after she started school that her parents remained home during the school year.  Countless governesses, nannies, Xander's and Jesse's mothers—the list of those who took care of her was endless and the two people that should have been around, her parents, were always gone.

So, why should she be upset now that things were finally out in the open?  Why should she lose anymore tears for them than she had already shed?  Why should she care that they first threatened to have her committed, and then after Spike and Will flashed the elder Rosenbergs their 'grrr' faces, decided that disowning Willow would be the more prudent thing to do.

Why should it bother her?

Because they are your parents—and you love them, her little voice said.  And now you'll never get the chance to be the perfect daughter that you've been striving to be for most of your life...
 
 

She hadn't even realized she had started to sob until Spike wrapped his arms around her and began rocking her back and forth.

"It's all right, love, let it out—I've got you...I won't let you go..."

And it should've been enough—Spike's love for her.  And in most ways, it was.  He, in the month that they had been together, had given her everything that she had always needed and never realized was missing until she had it.

But unfortunately, it wasn't completely enough, and Willow feared nothing ever would be, except her parents' love...and Sheila and Ira were obviously incapable of ever doing that.
 
 

She could live with the way things had turned out, but she didn't think she would ever totally heal from it—unfortunately unfortunately.  In her eighteen years of life, Willow had learned that there were just some things a person didn't recover from...and losing your parents and innocence the way she had was one of them.

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