Buffy reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a can of soda, nearly
dropping it onto the floor as the front door suddenly slammed shut. She
dashed into the living room and came face-to-face with a frantic
Willow.

"What is it? What's wrong, Will?" the slayer asked.

"I can't find him. He's gone!" the redhead answered. "I've looked
everywhere, but I--"

"Wait a minute. Who's gone? Spike?"

Willow nodded, "I was supposed to meet him at his place. Eight o'clock
sharp, he said. There's a movie playing in town. Lots of blood and
guts, and I didn't want to go, but he promised me I could hold on to
him during the gross parts, which is kind of why I think he wanted me
to go in the first place, but when I got to his apartment, he wasn't
there, and I've looked everywhere I can think, but--"

"Calm down," Buffy placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "There's
probably a simple explanation. Maybe he went out and lost track of the
time."

Willow shook her head, "It's been two hours, Buffy. He wouldn't forget
for two hours. Something's wrong. Something weird has happened. I just
know it. Only this time, I'm not with him. What if he's in trouble?
What if he's hurt?"

"It would serve him right," the slayer stated and immediately regretted
her impulsive words as Willow's expression became agonizingly pained.
"I'm sorry, Will. We'll find him. Listen, I'll get Xander, and we'll
track him down. Okay?"

She nodded and reached for the door, "I'm going to check the park
again."

"Okay, but be careful. Xander and I will hit the Bronze and that side
of town. We'll meet up in an hour."

"Thanks," Willow nodded as she stepped out the door.
***
Spike hissed quietly into the darkness and silently damned his cursed
luck. He'd left the apartment to grab a quick bite with plenty of time
to return to the apartment before Willow arrived. Dinner had presented
itself in the form of a bum who had passed out in a drunken stupor in
an alley beside the fish market. The filthy man's heartbeat had slowed
to the point it was barely audible to the vampire's ears, and Spike
knew the scraggly vagrant was one step away from death. Toeing aside
several cats who were scrounging around in the garbage bins set near
the wall, the vampire dragged the unconscious man to his feet and
quickly drained him.

Exactly what had happened afterward, Spike wasn't sure. All he
remembered was waking up, alone, in that same dark alley--no cats, no
passersby, not even the corpse he had left for dead. He'd hurried back
to his apartment, but by that time, it was well past eight o'clock, and
Willow was nowhere around. He'd tried the watcher's home, but if anyone
was in, Spike couldn't get their attention. Quelling a wave of panic,
he'd headed for the apartment that his redhead shared with the slayer,
only to discover it was dark and deserted.

With a loud, angry mewl, Spike lifted a hand to his forehead, caught
sight of the long white paw where his arm should have been, and leapt
off Willow's doorstep.

"I hate cats!" he growled to himself as he headed off into the night on
a desperate search for his lover.
***
Buffy and Xander returned to the Bronze where they had started their
search.

"How hard can it be to find a platinum blonde bloodsucker in tight
black jeans and a long leather duster?" Xander complained. "Maybe he
doesn't want to be found."

"He had a date with Willow," Buffy reminded him. "He *wants* to be
found."

The young man grimaced at the truth of the statement, "Well, maybe
she's found him. Or better yet, maybe she hasn't."

"Xander, I'm not any happier about them seeing each other than you are,
but Willow's crazy about him. And he has been trying to behave
himself--well, a little, at least--for her sake."

He nodded and shifted his gaze to sweep along the sidewalk across the
street, looking for any sign of the vampire, "Well, he isn't here.
Let's go find Willow and see if she's had any luck."

Buffy fell into step beside him as they headed for the park. They
crossed an intersection and turned the corner to see a small white cat
up ahead on the sidewalk.

"Slayer!" Spike thought with relief as he caught sight of the couple
and headed toward them.

"Where did you come from?" Buffy asked, kneeling down to twitch a
finger under Spike's chin.

Trying desperately to get the slayer to recognize him, but not quite
knowing how to accomplish that feat, the cat placed his paws on Buffy's
knees and raised himself up in an attempt to get her to look at him
more closely.

"Poor kitty," Buffy cooed. "Where did you come from?"

"Look at me, you daft bitch!" Spike's angry command drifted out of his
feline mouth as a soft mewl.

Buffy looked up at Xander, "Poor thing. Think he's lost?"

Xander shrugged as the cat sat down and hooked a paw behind his ear to
scratch at his neck, "He must belong to someone around here. He looks
well-fed, but I think he could use a flea collar."

Spike stopped, mid-scratch, and glared up at the man, and Buffy giggled
in amusement, "I think you've offended him. Well, this isn't helping
Willow. Come on. Let's get to the park. Go home, kitty."

She shoved Spike away and rose to her feet, and the vampire-cat shot
around them and sped off in the same direction that Buffy and Xander
were headed. He raced toward the park and rounded a lamp post and ran
head-first into a large German shepherd. The hair along the dog's back
stood on end as he growled at the white cat.

"Bloody hell. Wouldn't you just know it," Spike sighed to himself as he
felt his back arch in response to the dog's bared fangs.

The dog squared off and dropped his head with an angry bark.

"Don't fuck with me, you bastard," Spike hissed, literally.

The German shepherd lunged at the cat, and Spike swiped his nose with a
clawed foot. The dog yelped as Spike leapt up onto a bench beside the
lamp post. Enraged by the prickling gashes on his snout, the dog
snarled viciously and went after the cat. Spike climbed over the back
of the bench, with the dog right behind him, and made a mad dash around
the lamp post before heading off down the sidewalk. He spun around on
all fours as the dog closed in on him, sunk the claws of both front
paws into the mutt's muzzle, and clamped onto his nose with his teeth.

With a howl of pain, the dog shook him off, barked once more, and
jumped on the cat. Spike rolled out from under him and took off again,
heading for the nearest tree. The dog, hell-bent on sinking his teeth
into his quarry before the cat could climb to the safety of the tree's
branches, ran furiously after him. Spike kept his eyes trained on the
solid trunk ahead of him, running straight toward it and veering aside
at the last possible second. The dog, unprepared for Spike's quick
movement, smacked head-long into the tree and fell to the grass in a
furry lump.

"Prick," Spike growled in satisfaction before turning away to resume
his search for Willow.

He found her, at last, perched atop a picnic table, her feet resting on
the bench below, her head in her hands, sobbing quietly. Leaping
smoothly up beside her, he rubbed his head against her arm, and she
jumped at the unexpected contact. Spike purred softly and climbed up
onto her legs, and Willow's fingers gently brushed over his soft white
fur as the tears continued to roll down her cheeks.

"Baby, it's me," he tried to tell her, but all the redhead heard was a
soft, mournful wail.

"You, too, huh?" Willow asked sadly. "What am I going to do? I just
know something awful has happened to him, and I can't find him
anywhere. Oh, Spike. Where are you?"

Desperate to ease her aching heart, the vampire did the only thing he
could think of to grab her attention. He nuzzled his nose into her
crotch.

Willow squealed and lifted the cat off her lap, "Hey, you pervert! What
do you think you're--"

She stopped with a soft gasp as she peered down into the icy blue eyes
of the snow-white cat. Spike stretched his neck forward and gently bit
the tip of her nose.

"Spike?" she cried out. "Spike, is that you??"

"Ah, sweetheart. I knew you'd figure it out," Spike thought to himself
as he rubbed his furry cheek against the warm flesh of hers.

"What happened? How did you..." she groaned as she realized what she
was doing. "Like you can answer me. Don't worry, Spike. We'll figure
this out."

"Willow!" Buffy's voice called from across the grass. "We couldn't find
him anywhere."

"It's all right. He's here," Willow answered as they drew nearer.

"Here? Where?" Xander asked.

"Here," the redhead repeated, turning Spike slightly toward them.

"That's...that's...Spike?!?" Buffy managed to choke out the words
before she broke out laughing.

"So the big bad vampire's a soft little kitty," Xander teased and
reached out to chuck Spike under his chin.

Spike dragged his claws against the young man's wrist.

"Youch!" Xander shouted, yanking his hand away. "Yep. That's Spike."

"How do we fix him?" Willow asked Buffy.

"Um...a vet?" the slayer giggled.

Spike snarled, and Willow pulled him close to her chest, "Stop that! We
have to help him, you guys!"

"Right," Xander nodded in full agreement. "I'll get the catnip. Buffy,
you get you get a saucer and milk."

"Never mind!" the little redhead spoke angrily as Buffy shook with
laughter once again. "I'll do it, myself."

She jumped down off the table and stormed off toward the sidewalk.

"Will!" Buffy called out, running to join her. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, sure."

"No, really, I am." the slayer laid a hand on her friend's arm. "We'll
help. For real. Come on. Let's find Giles. He was going out to dinner,
but he must be back by now."

"Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll have ordered the fish. He could have
brought home a kitty-bag," Xander suggested playfully.

"If you don't knock it off, I'll make you carry Spike!" Willow warned
him.

"Like hell you will, luv," Spike snarled to himself and tried to
scramble up her shoulder.

"Ow! Ow!" she squealed as his claws dug into her flesh. "I'm sorry,
Spike! I didn't mean it!"
***
Giles alternated between looking through books and glancing in
dumbfounded amazement at the cat sprawled out on top of the coffee
table. If it weren't for the fact the creature was licking softly at
Willow's bare ankle, Giles would have believed his young friends had
all gone mad. He closed the book and removed his glasses to rub his
eyes.

"I need a drink," he sighed softly and moved to the liquor cabinet
along the wall.

"Me, too," Xander agreed eagerly, peering over the watcher's shoulder.

Giles gave him an "I-don't-think-so" glance and shuffled through the
bottles on the shelf.

"Mad Dog?" the young man said. "Giles, you drink Mad Dog?"

"Mad Dog," the words rang in Spike's ears. The drunken bum in the
alley, the cats, the German shepherd. He leapt off the table and darted
around the watcher's legs, sinking his claws into the wooden shelves
and scrambling up toward the bottle.

"What is he doing?" Buffy asked.

Willow's eyes snapped open and she scrambled off of the sofa, "Mad Dog!
He wants the Mad Dog."

"You can't be serious," Giles shook his head. "On the other hand--"

He opened the bottle and poured the liquid into a short glass and
handed it to Willow. The redhead tilted the glass, and Spike lapped at
its contents, the remainder spilling into his lap as the vampire found
himself sitting on the floor, fully clothed, with Willow leaning close
to him.

"Oh, Spike!" she grinned widely, and Giles grabbed for the glass before
it slipped through her fingers as she threw her arms around her lover's
neck.

The blonde vampire pulled her close to him, burying his head in her
hair and kissing her neck. Buffy groaned uncomfortably as Willow's lips
sought Spike's, and he pulled her down to straddle his legs as he
deepened the fiery kiss.

Xander clamped a hand onto the slayer's shoulder and grinned, "Think of
it this way, Buff. At least he can't argue when you call him a pussy."

Without breaking the kiss, Spike deftly flicked out his right leg,
shoving the young man's legs out from under him, and chuckled in
satisfaction as Xander landed on his ass with a loud thud.

End.

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