Also, apologies to anyone who is getting this for the second time around. Just delete it - I haven't made any changes.

~~~~~

~Part: One~

The distant future:

The ground shook and rumbled as another explosion sounded
far above on the nearly decimated surface.

"It's the only way." the tall, light-haired Watcher was saying.
He leaned heavily on his make-shift crutch as he shuffled into
a more comfortable position, his right hand still clutching the
thick, dust-encrusted text.

"I still don't like it." his lean, dark-skinned Slayer disagreed, her
eyes glued to the brunette vampire with them. "How do we
know we can even *trust* him?"

The vampire, for his part kept his mouth shut and his features
neutral as he looked over at the Watcher, awaiting the final
verdict.

"What other choice do we have? No mortal... yourself included
- even if it were possible - ... would survive the transfer..." the
Watcher persisted.

The Slayer finally managed to tear her eyes from the vampire
standing across from her and directed a hard look towards her
Watcher, "There *is* another choice, and I'd trust *him* over
*this* bloodsucker any day."

The Watcher sighed, "And again, he's got the same problem
you or any mortal would have... there's too much risk involved
where a soul is concerned." the young man argued with a trace
of weariness. "We've gone over this before, and you know as
well as I do that 'this bloodsucker' is our *only* choice."

The young girl's head lolled back until she was staring
sightlessly at the ceiling of the underground cavern. Another
low rumble and accompanying shake rocked the earth. "I
know." she whispered with quiet reluctance, "But I still don't like
it."

~~~~~

The present (1998):

"I dunno, I thought maybe dinner and a movie." Spike shrugged
sarcastically as he glanced dismissively at the sleazy barkeep.
"I've been hurt you know." he added with a smirk.

Trudging through the sewers, Spike smiled as the next phase
of his plan was successfully completed; one undead and
unconscious sire: check. Soon now, very soon, his Dru would
be restored to her former glory, then they could finish off the
Slayer and her wretchedly annoying friends and continue their
growing reign of terror.

That thought brought and even bigger grin to his face: three
Slayers, he liked the sound of that... or maybe he'd give this
one to Dru to finish off. Of course, he'd have to have his fun
with the little blond twit first, but he wasn't beyond sharing the
bounty. He and his princess would be untouchable after that -
masters of the Hellmouth, killers of Slayers...

Unlife was grand sometimes.

~~~~~

The distant future:

The room was absolutely bare save for the single stone
pedestal that had been painstakingly placed in the centre. The
Slayer and the Watcher had come in earlier to set everything
up, but that had been nearly an hour ago now and the vampire
seated on the pedestal was decidedly restless.

...and it wasn't all because of his boredom. He'd never breath
a word of it aloud, but he was nervous. He'd spent the better
part of his existence wrecking havoc and mayhem everywhere
he'd gone, leaving a trail of pain and death in his wake. It
wasn't until a few decades ago that a little perspective had
forced him to... *change*.

All it had taken was a few denizens of hell breaking through
some mystical barrier on the other side of the planet that he
hadn't even known existed, and paving the way for the first
wave of Apocalyptic terror.

The worst part of it was that the next Slayer hadn't even been
called yet because he had still been busy draining the then
present one.

Like he could've known what was coming. He wouldn't have
killed her right then if he had. She could've gone off and saved
the world, and he would've happily waited for the crises to end,
*then* gone after her and had his fun.

But no.

The door behind him scraped open and he sighed swinging his
legs up onto the slab of stone, ready to finish this spell and
right the wrong he still irrationally blamed himself for.

He glanced over towards the entering figure expecting to see
the Watcher, the eyes that caught his however, were definitely
not the mortal's though. He froze, half-sitting and half-lying on
the pedestal, unconsciously tensing as he found himself face to
face with the only being he'd actively tried avoiding since his
allegiance with the remnants of the Watcher's Council.

"You're hard to get a hold of these days." the larger figure
commented uneasily as he entered and shut the door behind
him.

"I guess." the vampire agreed, forcing himself back into action
and lying himself down on the stone slab. He stared intently up
at the ceiling and gnawed absently on the inside of his cheek.

"So..." the newcomer drawled slowly, pulling out a slip of paper
from his pocket. "...you ready?"

"The Watcher isn't doing this?" the awaiting vampire asked,
still tense as he continued to force himself to stare up at the
ceiling.

"...I asked him if I could." came the hesitant reply. The larger
male approached the pedestal slowly. "I... I never got a
chance to apologize." he continued.

The vampire snorted and finally turned his head to study the
face he hadn't seen for longer than he cared to think about.
"For what? Coming within a literal inch of ending my existence
last time we saw each other? Or tearing the last thing that
meant anything to me away on that day instead?"

The larger male flinched but refrained from averting his gaze
nonetheless. "For either, for both... I knew you didn't kill her,
I've always known... it was just easier to blame you back then."
There was a brief pause, during which time the larger male
found the prone vampire's shoulder and clasped it firmly. "I
just wanted to clear the slate between us incase..."

"What's done is done." the vampire interrupted, staring
dispassionately at the hand gripping his shoulder. An
uncomfortable silence descended between them, "Let's get this
done with." the vampire finally ordered in a hard voice.

The taller, broader male started withdrawing his hand but the
smaller, leaner one growled softly, closed his eyes and
reached up to hold it in place. "I died again on that night." he
admitted quietly, "Only that time, there was nothing left when I
woke up." a short, humourless chuckle escaped his lips, "In
another lifetime, you would've been proud."

The standing male didn't disagree. "I've heard the stories."

"Tell me one thing before we do this?" the vampire requested,
eyes still closed. His company waited in silence, "Did you ever
care?"

Unreadable blue eyes finally re-opened to study the regret-
filled brown ones, "That first year, when it all started, not a
night went by that I didn't wish I had you with me again." the
larger male replied sincerely.

The vampire smiled, the first real one he'd cracked in nearly
two-hundred, "Me too." he volunteered quietly, "At least, until..."
he trailed off and released the other male's hand, his smile
fading. "What's done is done." he repeated again firmly, "Let's
just work on fixing one problem at a time."

Nodding, the larger of the two raised his arm to read the words
scrawled on the piece of paper in his hands. By the time he
finished the incantation an unnatural wind had sprouted and
the vampire lying on the slab was beginning to slowly fade
away.

"Take care... William." the larger male whispered, almost to
himself.

The disappearing vampire turned to look at him and offered a
small smirk, "You too, 'Liam'."

Seconds later, the brown-haired, blue-eyed demon vanished
from sight.

~~~~~

In Between Time:

Random scenes flashed vibrantly before him as a torrent of
memories flashed through his mind until finally Hawaii, circa
2180 began solidifying before him. The Slayer was supposed
to go there - *would have* gone there - if he hadn't side-
tracked her in New York.

Well, at long last he'd be able to rectify the mistake that had
cost the world everything.

An image of Angel suddenly flashed through his mind: Los
Angeles, circa 2008. The chip had long since deteriorated and
ceased functioning, as all man-made technology did eventually
without proper care and maintenance. He'd been busy nursing
yet another broken heart and trying to console himself by
celebrating the anniversary of Buffy's death, one that he'd had
the immense joy of witnessing first hand, several years prior.

He'd been piss drunk, but somewhere in the back of his mind,
he'd known that Angel was still working in the area, somewhere
in the back of his mind, he'd known that staying in LA would
lead to an inevitable confrontation.

He'd sorely misjudged the effect Buffy's death would have on
his moody sire though.

"You're not even worth my time to kill."

What he'd thought to gain out of the trip he couldn't even
remember. He sure as hell hadn't gotten it though.

"I *hate* you Spike. I'll hate you until one or both of us is dust."

Angel had missed his heart by a hair's width at most.

"I can't believe I ever thought *you* could change."

As he'd fallen to the ground, clutching at the stake in his chest,
Spike had found himself fervently wishing that Angel *hadn't* in
fact missed that night.

"You're as dead to me as I was to you when I was cursed with
my soul. You always were, you always will be... it just took me
too long to realize it."

Spike had only just managed to pull the stake out before
collapsing unconscious.

"Don't ever let me see you again, Spike. *Ever*."

By the time he'd woken up, he could've given the Judge a huge
hug without worries. He'd stopped using his name after that
too - William, Spike - they were gone. All that had been left
when he opened his eyes was a demon thirsty for blood,
hungry to make the rest of the world suffer for the torment and
turmoil he'd been forced to endure.

...yearning for every last Slayer from here to the end of time to
die before they had a chance to live... to make up for the one
Slayer that had ruined his unlife, taken away his sire, and
chased away his princess.

He'd done great too... until the Gates of Hell were opened and
the humans began to die....

Hawaii and it's angry, fuming volcanoes faded from sight, and a
jumble of other familiar scenes flashed in rapid succession
before him, until New York finally emerged triumphant.

Angel

Angelus

Angel

Angelus

He didn't even care which it was, he'd learned... too late... to
love them both. New York began fading too as confusion set in,
and Spike had the distinct feeling of being pushed along
uncontrollably in the strong currents of a river he couldn't get
out of.

Hawaii

New York

Sunnydale

Hawaii

New York

Sunnydale

He had a mission here - he'd been entrusted to journey back to
correct a mistake before it happened - he'd been entrusted to
save the world... only he was losing focus of that objective very
quickly under the torrent of memories and emotions raining
down upon him.

Angel

Angelus

Hawaii

New York

Sunnydale

Shouting out in frustration, Spike grabbed a hold of the first
thing he could and hoped he'd end up where he was supposed
to. Despite the cloud of hatred and anger that had filled him
when Angel had beaten and left him, he had still felt an
objection to losing his world the way he had.

There was nothing with which to satisfactorily unleash his rage,
if there were no humans to torture and kill.

He felt himself emerge from the wild currents of time and space
and gasped unnecessarily for air.

Then everything went black.
 

~Part: Two~

The Present:

There was a hiss. A pained hiss.

There was a soft, familiar voice too.

Spike blinked his eyes open slowly, a wave of disorientation
and dizziness filling him as he did so. His vision was blurred
and he was sure he was going to fall over until he realized he
was already flat on his back on the ground.

There was another gasp and hiss, then soft laughter.

Closing his eyes, he slowly rolled over onto his side, then onto
his stomach, then painstakingly pulled himself up onto his
hands and knees. He paused there, waiting for the
lightheadedness to pass, then blinked his eyes open once
again to take a look at his surroundings.

As near as he could tell, he was in a hall of some kind...
vaguely familiar, but seemingly just out of reach of clear
identification. He glanced down at his hands tilting his head
curiously at the black of his nails and frowned. Pulling himself
upwards until he was kneeling, he shook his head against the
next wave of dizziness and examined his attire.

Taking in the black jeans, the t-shirt, the red button-down, the
black duster, his frown deepened. He hadn't worn this kind of
outfit since... he closed his eyes again, he'd gone back too far.

Cursing, he brought a fist down on his thigh with frustration.
What year was it anyway? Had to be sometime in the late
twentieth century or early twenty-first century, no where near...
he frowned. No where near when?

Growling, he reached out to the wall beside him and started to
stand as he desperately wracked his brain for the when and
the where of his journey. He was supposed to prevent an
Apocalyptic event of some sort, he remembered that much...
the Slayer... he wasn't supposed to kill her... he was supposed
to try to help her...

A strangled cry of pain broke his concentration and his head
turned towards the door behind which it had emanated. That
familiar voice that had been speaking softly a moment ago
sounded much harsher now, angry almost.

Both curious and confused, Spike pushed the jumble of
disjointed memories from his mind and started for the door.
His limbs felt strangely heavy and his body was stiff. The
Watcher had warned him about this... he paused again as he
reached the door and leaned heavily against the wall, new
emotions suddenly welling up within him at the thought of the
Watcher.

The muscular, broad-shouldered man with the long scar
running down the right side of his face and the hopelessly
crushed leg faded in and out of clarity as a less hardened,
more soft-spoken, clean-cut, tweed-suited man took its place.
Grudging respect and open detest warred for dominance and
Spike brought his arms up and squeezed his head desperately
between the heels of his hands.

What was going on?

"I warned you to take Spike and leave. You should've listened
while you had the chance."

The voice snapped Spike's attention back to the door and he
shook his head in disbelief: Angel. Angel was here...

Bursting into the room, Spike took in the sight before him with a
disturbing sense of deja vu. Angel was on the floor, chained
securely by the foot of a bed, his shirt hanging open and his
chest riddled with various burn marks and scratches. Drusilla
was hovering over him, looking for all the world like a mother
scolding a young child for doing something he shouldn't have,
a small, delicate glass of liquid in her hands.

A whole new set of conflicting thoughts assaulted Spike as
both vampires turned to look at him, leaving him momentarily
dazed and frozen in place.

Angel: the sire he'd loved yet hated; the mentor he'd wanted
yet evaded; the partner he'd lost and found; the friend he'd
yearned for yet avoided; the foe he'd battled yet needed.

Drusilla: the face that had comforted him and haunted him; the
female that had loved him and left him; the lover that had
completed him and destroyed him; the vampiress that he'd
loved with all his being and cursed with every unneeded
breath.

Dru smiled almost warmly as he staggered forward uncertainly,
"Have you come to play with my Angel too?"

Spike had no answer for her as he tried to sort things out in his
head. He knew he should remember what was going on here,
he knew he'd successfully been transferred to the past, but for
some reason he couldn't remember those very details he knew
he should. The only clear knowledge he had with regards to
his being here was that he had to prevent some coming
disaster... and he was too far in the past at the moment.

"Dru, luv, why..." he paused, instinct told him that he shouldn't
really be asking her why it was that she had Angel in chains
and was playing at a bit of mild torture, but if he could get some
idea of what exactly was going on here, he was sure he'd be
able to remember where, and *when*, he'd wound up. "...why
don't you take a bit of a break and leave me with Peaches here
for a while." he suggested instead, unsure exactly of where his
words were coming from. 'Peaches'? He couldn't even
remember the last time he'd referred to Angel like that... of
course, he hadn't been thinking of or referring to Angel in...
well, a long time.

She looked back at Angel longingly but nodded, then gave him
a slightly humourous and mischievous look, "Remember, he
mustn't die till the ritual." she cautioned him, with the air of one
delivering a inside joke.

Spike managed to give her a small grin, "Of course." he
assured her, wracking his brain for some memory of Angel and
a ritual.

She glided out of the room after leaving her small bottle on the
night side table, and Spike quickly found a chair and sank
down into it, ignoring the uncertain look he was getting from his
captive sire.

His early memories of Angelus were clear enough, the demon
had loved violence, bloodshed, death, pain... but the demon
had also unabashedly enjoyed the bounties of the world as it
was. Angelus wouldn't have gone for any kind of hell on earth
or demonic ruling of it. It would take his source of fun out
things.

*But*, Angelus had disappeared sometime in the early
nineteenth century and rumours had circulated throughout
vampiric circles that he'd been cursed with his soul by some
gypsies in Romania.

Angel, the ensouled vampire, Spike could also remember fairly
clearly. It had been an overwhelming disappointment to arrive
at the vaunted Hellmouth only to discover that those rumours
had in fact been correct...

Spike frowned thoughtfully and raised his eyes to study the
dark-haired vampire on the floor in front of him. There was
anger and uncertainty, perhaps even mild fear, in those brown
eyes, but there was also an undeniable look of guilt and pain.
Pain that stemmed not from the physical torture Dru had been
inflicting but inner pain - like a soul burdened with too many
horrible memories.

Okay, so Angel was still souled.

Still...? Spike sighed, why couldn't he just remember
everything, damnit! He'd already lived through all of this, it had
to all be there in his head!

Growling as he stood, Spike turned around and kicked the
chair in frustration, splintering its leg and sending it down the
ground with a loud crash. It didn't help.

Pacing, Spike went back to his thinking. The souled Angel
would have also objected to the world coming to the verge of
extinction, the souled Angel had in fact allied himself with a
Slayer... and hadn't that been at some point in time in the late
twentieth century?

"If you're planning on boring me to death, it's working." Angel
commented dryly from his place on the floor. Spike ignored
him.

Angel hadn't just allied himself with a Slayer in the late
twentieth century... it was the *first* time he'd allied himself a
Slayer, and also the *only* Slayer he had dared to love with his
entirety.

Spike froze. Hundreds of faces flashed before his eyes, all
girls, all young, of all different nationalities, different cultures,
different backgrounds - most he'd killed, some he'd only heard
of, their deaths coming before he'd managed to track them
down... one face finally stood out above all others.

"Maybe you were just jealous of all the attention Dru's been
giving me. You haven't forgotten who it is she really wants
have you?"

Spike barely even heard the gibe. Buffy. The Slayer that had,
in his eyes, started the whole mess that had become his
unlife... the only Slayer he had always remembered by name.
He stopped pacing a malicious grin curling his lips; this was his
chance... if he killed Buffy here and now, in the past, or
present, or whatever it was that he was in, he wouldn't lose
Dru, he wouldn't lose Angel, he wouldn't lose... the world.

Cursing, Spike leaned forwards against the nearest wall,
resting his forehead against the cool, smooth surface. The
world: the thing that he was supposed to save; the thing he had
inadvertently destroyed because he'd killed the wrong Slayer
at the wrong time. Had that Slayer been Buffy? He couldn't
remember.

"Spike?" Dru's troubled voice called out. Spike lifted his head
and turned around to look at the vampiress standing in the
doorway. "Miss Edith said something was very wrong... out of
place... out of time..."

Dru... Spike could vividly remember loving her in the twentieth
century... he could also remember hearing about her demise,
in the arms of some kind of pyrokinetic demon, of all stupid
demons for a vampire to try seducing. He was fairly certain
that that wasn't going to occur for a good long while yet though.

Would it be before or after this Apocalyptic event? He couldn't
remember.

...and why did he feel absolutely nothing remotely resembling
love when he looked at her?

"That's nice." Spike dismissed, turning his back to her as he
continued trying to fill in the blank spots in his mind. He didn't
even realize she had entered the room until he felt a hand grip
his shoulder and gently turn him around.

The hand. On his shoulder. 'That first year, when it all started,
not a night went by that I didn't wish I had you with me again.'

Eyes he'd once thought were beautiful, endless seas of death
and darkness, searched his carefully. "She said it was you."
the quiet voice informed him inscrutably.

He opened his mouth to scoff that notion away when she
suddenly vamped out and snarled, her nails inexplicably raking
the side of his face before he could react. "You're not my
Spike." she accused knowingly, "Where is he? He must be
here to do the ritual." she wailed helplessly.

Even as he raised his hand to his cheek and felt the cool
droplets of blood that were pooling along the long scratches
another memory flitted briefly though his mind: Dru jumping him
in rage, struggling against him as he raised his arm to clobber
Angelus one more time... her nails, sweeping across his face in
much the same way, her eyes full of anger and betrayal and
hate.

"He promised." she whimpered softly, backing away from him,
"He promised to make me strong again."

In an instant, with those words the memory of this event came
back to him. He'd used Angel once to restore Dru, to help her
recover from the nearly fatal wounds she'd received... where
had it been... Berlin? Warsaw? Vienna? Prague?... yes,
Prague... the mob, her injuries, his desperation, the Hellmouth,
Angel... it all started falling back into place.

Yet despite the memories, he found no emotions
accompanying them. He *remembered* how he'd felt, the
blinding love and devotion he'd bestowed upon his princess,
the betrayal and resentment he felt upon finding his sire had
indeed switched sides... but he could feel none of that now.

His eyes drifted from Drusilla to Angel, and one emotion finally
flickered somewhere in the depths of his being. Regret.

'That first year, when it all started, not a night went by that I
didn't wish I had you with me again.'

Ignoring the vampiress he hadn't felt anything towards in what
seemed like centuries, he searched his pockets until he found
a small key and moved to Angel's restraints. Everything in his
mind was a jumble right now, but somehow, he was fairly
certain that no matter when in time he was, he'd find an ally in
a souled Angel - at least as far as saving the world was
concerned.

"Spike?" Dru called out uncertainly, "We need him for the
ceremony."

Inserting the key into the lock, Spike didn't even bother looking
at her, "No Dru, *you* need him for the ceremony. *I* need him
to make sure I don't royally screw the world over again."

This time when she flung herself at him, Spike was on guard.
Catching her by the throat he pinned her against the bed next
to Angel, one hand clamped around her neck, the other
gripping both of her wrists. She stared up at him with surprise,
confusion, and betrayal. He stared down at her with anger,
annoyance and disgust.

That empty space within him that he could recall filling once
with love for her had long since emptied. He'd long ago
become as devoid of love and caring and compassion as
Angelus had after Angel had lost his soul back when...

"Spike..." Dru started, her voice half-way between pain and
anger.

"No." Spike interrupted, not in the mood to hear anything more
from the vampiress he'd once been more devoted to than was
natural for the undead. "You're right, I'm not your Spike.
Looking back, I doubt I ever was your Spike, and though not
even your clairvoyance has shown you yet, I wouldn't have
been your Spike in a few years time anyway." Releasing her
roughly and shoving her towards the door, he reached out and
grabbed the broken wooden leg of the chair he'd smashed
moments earlier and pointed it towards her. "If you get in my
way Dru, I *will* kill you."

Turning back to a bewildered Angel, Spike resumed unlocking
the metal shackles as Dru scurried out of sight.

~~~~~

Angel retrieved yet another bag of blood from the fridge before
sitting down and resuming his stare across the room at the
bleached blonde vampire stretched out on his sofa.

Spike had collapsed almost as soon as the two of them had
reached the apartment, and Angel had yet to determine
whether it was a good thing or not. On one hand, it gave him
ample chance to consider his options with regards to what to
do about Spike, on the other hand, it left him unable to ask
some very troubling questions that were still plaguing his mind
with regards to his childe's recent behaviour.

The emptiness he'd seen in Spike's eyes as the blonde
vampire glared down at Dru had bothered Angel quite a bit.
Granted, he hadn't exactly been keeping close tabs on the
younger vampire, but he knew that Spike and Dru shared
something most vampires didn't: love.

But that love hadn't been there in Spike's eyes. It had, only a
few hours before the vampire had come bursting into the room
- as Dru had looked up at him and asked sweetly if she could
'play' with Angel. Spike had sent him a withering look of
disgust before softening his gaze as he looked at Dru and
relenting. The looks they gave each other, the two vampires
Angelus had sired all those years ago, spoke volumes of their
more 'human' feelings for one another. Yet not even two hours
later, it was as though someone had taken whatever residual
humanity had remained within Spike and flushed it out
completely.

Drusilla had noticed it as well... had in fact accused him of not
being 'her' Spike - an accusation that Spike had not disagreed
with. If anything, Spike had practically confirmed it as he
ranted about never having been 'her' Spike.

While Angel didn't doubt that the two had had their share of
disagreements in the past, that perhaps Dru's unstable sanity
had added stress to their relationship, before that afternoon, he
could see absolutely no reason for Spike to change so
drastically in such a short length of time.

What then was going on?

>From the moment he'd found out that Spike and Dru had come
calling, he'd harboured a secret hope that he might find
companionship with one or both of them. Despite having his
soul restored, he was still a vampire, and the ties that bound
him to his childer were still fairly strong.

Though Darla had disowned with a drop of a hat when he'd first
been cursed, even she had tried luring him back to her side
last year. Granted, she had had plans of finding Angelus
within him again, no doubt, but if over the course of time she
could go from hating the mere sight of him to actually trying to
win him back, wasn't there some chance that Spike and/or Dru
might be willing to change in order to be with him?

Until that afternoon, when Spike had for reasons still unknown,
unchained him and helped him out of the lair, he'd begun
wondering if perhaps it wasn't just wishful thinking to hope for
some sense of belonging somewhere.

Buffy may have come to accept him... Giles and Willow too...
heck, for all he knew, even Xander and Cordelia were
beginning to warm up to him... but there was still that very
blatant feeling of being the outsider within the group.

He was, after all, a vampire - a demon - the very thing that the
'Scooby gang' had devoted themselves to slaying.

Whistler had provided him some measure of that sought for
companionship before Sunnydale, because as a demon, the
little servant of the mysterious Powers, had the ability to see
both sides of the inner battle Angel was constantly plagued
with.

There was an innate tendency towards violence, an innate
hunger for blood, an innate desire for self-preservation above
and beyond all else. Yet with his soul, Angel had to constantly
resist and fight those urges. To focus his violence against
those other demons that sought to bring death and destruction,
to feed his hunger with sources of blood other than live human
meals, and, if called upon, to sacrifice himself and his own
desires for the greater good.

It was a struggle he often didn't think he'd win, it was struggle
he'd only managed recently because of the wholly accepting
love Buffy had offered him. Somewhere in the back of his
mind, he knew she deserved better, he knew he should back
off and let her find a mortal who could give her all the things he
could not. But he couldn't. One look, one glance, one brush of
skin and he was lost to her spell. She was, literally, his soul's
other half, and so long as she kept coming to him, he had no
desire to take the first step in grounding her and encouraging
her to find someone human to love.

A knock on the door, jarred him out of his thoughts, and he
frowned slightly as he realized that he'd managed to distract
his thoughts towards Buffy again, instead of the Spike problem
he was currently facing.

Moving to the door, he opened it only enough to see the
person standing on the other side, then made doubly sure that
his visitor wouldn't be able to see anything past him when
Buffy's familiar scent wafted up to him.

"Buffy, hi." he greeted, surprised to see her standing there.

"Angel," Buffy sighed with relief, "I'm so glad you're alright, we
were all so worried about you when we couldn't find you
anywhere, and then there were all these rumours about Spike
kidnapping you... and is everything okay?" she finished, trying
subtly to peek around him.

"I'm fine." Angel assured her, not quite sure what else to say,
and certainly not ready to let her know that Spike was in there
with him, "Everything's fine. You must've heard wrong."

She looked up at him her eyes reflecting mild curiosity and
hope as she nodded, "Oh, okay... well that's good then. That
you're okay... and everything's okay..." she stood there a
moment longer shuffling from foot to foot, and Angel realized
belatedly that she was probably waiting to be invited in -
something he normally would have been overjoyed to allow -
but not just then with Spike lying on the sofa. "So, um, we'll
see you later then?" she inquired, a slight flush working its way
up her cheeks.

"Sure. Later." Angel agreed, feeling badly for her discomfort
and wishing he could explain the situation to her, but not even
sure himself yet what was going on.

"So... bye." Buffy clipped quickly before turning on her heel and
heading back down the hall.

Angel watched her retreating figure, desperate to call out to
her, wrap his arms around her and apologize for his evasive
behaviour. Instead he closed his eyes and shut the door,
leaning his head against it as he mentally slapped himself for
never being able to say or do the right things with her.

"Bye." he muttered to the closed door.

Sighing, he dragged himself back to the table and his
unopened bag of blood, casting a glance at Spike's still prone
form. What, oh what, was he going to do with that vampire?

Should he tie Spike up while he had the chance? Stake him
now that he had the unhindered opportunity? Sit here and just
wait for the younger vampire to wake up? Tell someone about
what was going on? Handle this all himself?

Spike groaned suddenly and brought his hands up to his head
as he massaged his temples. Angel grabbed the stake he'd
left on the table by his blood and sat down to wait. He was
curious to hear Spike out, but he wasn't willing to take any
unnecessary risks.

"If I didn't have to wait two hundred friggin' years, I think I'd
make Saphira my next kill... then her bloody gimp Watcher for
convincing me to do this in the first place." the blonde muttered
bitterly before siting up slowly.

The younger vampire licked his lips as he looked around, an
unreadable look on his face as his eyes finally settled on
Angel.

"Before you ask, I only pulled your dead hide out of there
because I need your help." the blonde continued, remaining
where he was on the sofa.

"I think I need an explanation before I agree to any kind of
help." Angel replied evenly. This was no time to get his hopes
up with Spike... if Spike was only playing good guy for a reason
that seemed to currently supercede his desire to see Dru
healed, Angel wasn't too sure he was going to like what he
heard.

~~~~~

"So, you're telling us that you've come from... from *two
hundred* years in the future, to prevent an imminent
Apocalyptic disaster, but you can't remember what it is or when
it takes place or where it will occur?" Giles summarized briefly,
removing his glasses to rub his eyes, the disbelief and
exasperation evident in his voice.

"Or maybe he's finally caught the loony-bug from Dru." Buffy
suggested dryly, her arms crossed as she glared alternatively
between the two vampires present in the Library.

Spike didn't even react to the Slayer's comment regarding Dru,
and Angel frowned at him worriedly. "I think he's telling the
truth." the older vampire offered. "As outrageous as his story
sounds - he isn't the same Spike that chained me up this
morning."

Buffy immediately shot him a look of hurt and disbelief, "You
said everything was fine!" she accused with irritation, "Now
you're telling us that Spike *did* kidnap you?" She turned to
look at Giles before Angel could respond, "It's a spell." she
decided firmly, "Spike and Dru must have put him under a
spell." she insisted.

Giles sighed and buried his face in his hands wearily. Buffy
sat up and gestured at the books littering the table of the
library, "Well, lets do that research thing and un-spell Angel."
she ordered.

"Buffy, I'm not under any spell..." Angel tried assuring her. She
gave him an incredulous look.

"Yesterday we were all gung-ho for getting Spike and slaying
him before he could carry through with whatever plan he
cocked up this time, today you're ready to jump to his defence
and believe some ridiculous story he's told you. Oh I'd
definitely say you're under a spell." Grabbing her stake from
the table-top she waved it in Spike's direction, "In fact, I'm
thinking that if we maybe just dust the evil vamp, the spell will
be broken and we can all go on with our normal, Hellmouthy
lives."

"But what if he is telling the truth?" Willow spoke up timidly
from her seat, where she'd been watching and listening to the
exchange in silence. All eyes turned to her and she slouched
a little farther back in her seat. "I mean, what if there is some
Apocalyptic threat that we should be looking out for... isn't it
better if we're prepared for it?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and continued glaring at the silent blonde
vampire, "Wills, I hate to break this to you, but there's *always*
an Apocalyptic threat around here... remember that little hole
that opens up in the middle of this room?"

Willow swallowed and flushed slightly as she glanced
unconsciously at said location on the floor. Surprisingly, it was
Xander who spoke up next, "Look, you all know how I feel
about Deadboy here," he started, jabbing a thumb at Angel, "-
and you know I hate Junior there, " he jabbed his thumb at
Spike with those words, "-even more. But look at him; he's not
acting very Spike-ish." All eyes save Spike's were now on him,
the blonde vampire merely staring up at the ceiling with mild
annoyance. "Buffy, think about it - and I so can't believe I'm
saying this - you told me once that you thought Spike talked so
much because he loved the sound of his own voice, well this
Spike hasn't said two words since walking in with Angel
tonight."

It was true, Buffy had to admit, Angel had been the one who
described Spike's reason for being here, Spike had simply sat
there in an almost bored silence. He hadn't even blinked those
few times that Dru had been brought up, and from her own past
encounters with him, she knew that Dru was his only true
weakness, the only sure button to use if she wanted to distract
him or anger him, yet tonight; nothing.

"Besides," Cordelia spoke up as she continued filing her nails,
"-he did call off The Order of Tarkin guys."

"Taraka." Giles corrected absently, "Supposing for a moment
that this is all true," he continued in a more focussed voice, "I
don't see what we can possibly do with nothing really to even
go on."

Angel glanced over at his childe, "I'll keep him with me for the
next little while." he suggested to the group before directing his
next comment to Spike directly, "You've been remembering
more and more in the past few hours, maybe in a little while
you'll remember more about this disaster."

Buffy sighed reluctantly, "And what are we going to do about
Dru?" she asked tiredly, "Cause if good ole Spikey here thinks
I'll just let her go if I see her out there, I'm gonna suggest we
just dump Marty McSpike in the local mental ward instead while
we wait for his prophetic words of wisdom."

For the first time since walking into the library, Spike actually
started showing an interest in the conversation. "If she gets in
your way, kill her. That is still what you do to us 'evil vamps',
isn't it?" Again the cold, emotionless tone of the younger
vampire's voice caused Angel to frown, and even Buffy seemed
to finally notice the difference in this Spike from the one she
was accustomed to fighting.

Sitting his glasses back on his nose, Giles nodded towards
Angel. "Very well then, it appears you'll take responsibility
over Spike, and the rest of us, since we no longer have to
worry about Spike's original plans, can begin searching
through any relevant prophesies." His declaration was met by
several groans.

"With our luck, this big bad probably won't even be happening
for another century and a half." Xander groaned.
 

~Part: Three~

Spike found himself chuckling lightly as Willow finished her tale
about some killer android that had tried going after Buffy and
her mother a little while ago, the books she had brought over
hours ago already long forgotten.

Angel rolled his eyes at the two and started for the bedroom,
ready to slip under the covers and try dreaming some non-
Buffy centric dreams for a change.

It had been several weeks now since Spike had moved in with
him, the two vampires having decided that it might be best to
let the rest of vampiric community believe that Angel had
managed to kill Spike and escape that night Dru's restoration
spell was supposed to have taken place. So Spike had
dutifully remained out of sight and in Angel's apartment.

Dru was after all the only one who would know otherwise, and
it was doubtful given her insanity and continued weakness that
the others would believe her if she babbled on about Spike
betraying her.

Of course the acceptance and placidity with which Spike had
agreed to remain cooped up in the apartment was yet another
newfound characteristic Angel found disturbing about this new
Spike.

A knock sounded at the door then, jostling Angel out of his
thoughts and he paused for a moment, casting a glance over at
Spike, who seemed too absorbed with Willow to even notice
the interruption. Sighing, Angel went over to the door himself.

"Hold on." he called out, reaching for the door and opening it.
Buffy was standing on the other side, a worried look on her
face. "Hey. Is everything ok?" Angel asked immediately, a
knot of worry of his own tightening within him as he wondered if
the girl that had captured his heart was in any danger or
trouble. It was early morning after all, and she didn't usually
come to see him before school...

"That's what I was gonna ask you." she replied, with a hint of
fear and nervousness, "You're okay, right?"

Thrown slightly off guard, Angel gestured for her to come in,
this time not worried that Spike was in here as well. "Sure. I'm
fine." he assured her with confusion, "What's up?"

Buffy entered and set her bag down, her eyes immediately
travelling to her best friend who was lying on her stomach on
the floor, propped up on her elbows as she faced Spike, who
was in a similar position facing the red-head. They had both
stopped conversing when the young Slayer had entered and
Willow was looking up at Buffy with a slightly guilty expression.

"Hi." Willow greeted with mild embarrassment, giving her friend
a small wave.

"Slayer." Spike nodded, before dragging one of the many
books littering the floor in front of him and staring down at the
open pages.

"Willow... and Spike." Buffy managed to choke out. "Spike, I
understand... but Willow? It's morning. It's early. You're
*here*. Why?"

Grabbing a shirt Angel stepped in to save Willow further
embarrassment, "She came over last night..."

"Last night?!" Buffy exclaimed incredulously, her eyes still on
Willow, "You were here all night? With-with *him*?!" the Slayer
practically spat, pointing at Spike.

Placing a hand on Buffy's shoulder, Angel turned the smaller
body around to face him and tried again, "Willow came over
last night with some books to see if reading through any of
them might help jar Spike's memory. Yes she stayed all night,
but I was here the whole time too, and I promise you she was
in no danger."

Buffy looked up at him dubiously, but seemed to calm down
somewhat, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wig like that... I know
you'd never let anything happen to Willow... I guess I'm just
sort of panicky about..." She trailed off and turned back to
Willow. "My bad, think we can forget that little screaming fit
and start over?"

Willow smiled uncomfortably but nodded.

Buffy cleared her throat and smiled, "Morning Wills, I didn't
expect to see you here."

"Yeah, my parents are out of town... again, but I, uh, didn't
expect to still be here either." Willow admitted, getting to her
feet and greeting Buffy with a hug. "So what was the big 'uh
oh' that brought you by this morning?"

Buffy's smile faded as she recalled the dream that had brought
her rushing over, "That. Right" she breathed nervously pulling
away from Willow and turning back to face Angel. "I had this
dream..." she glanced over her shoulder at Spike, who was still
looking absorbed with the book in front of him, "...about
Drusilla." Spike offered no reaction whatsoever.

"What happened?" Angel asked, diverting her attention back to
him.

"She killed you. Right in front of me." Buffy blurted out, getting
straight to the point. Angel didn't look overly phased.

"It was just a dream." he reasoned rationally, "It wasn't real."

"Sometimes Slayer's dreams are real." Spike's dead pan voice
offered as he flipped the page and continued reading.

"He's right Angel, it's happened before." Buffy nodded, "The
dreams I had about the Master... they came true."

Trying not to glare at his childe, Angel wrapped his arms
around Buffy, "Still, not every dream you dream comes true."
he insisted, hoping to ease her obvious fears, and dutifully
ignoring his own unease with her revelation, "I mean. What
else did you dream last night? Can you remember?"

Buffy looked down sheepishly as she leaned her head against
his chest, "I dreamt... I dreamt that Giles and I opened an office
supply warehouse in Vegas." she admitted quietly.

Willow covered her mouth to hide her smile and turned back to
Spike and the books she had brought, carefully packing her
things away again so she'd have time to drop them back off at
the library before heading to class. Spike sat up and began
helping her as Angel continued to try reassuring Buffy that
nothing bad was going to happen to him.

Sounds of kissing could soon be heard and Willow blushed,
trying to focus her attention on her books and her bag, willing
her mind to think of something other than the fact that her
friend was engaging in some pretty heavy lip-lock not ten feet
away.

"Oh!" she remembered suddenly, drawing Spike's attention
with her exclamation. She automatically looked over her
shoulder to make sure Buffy wasn't listening, her eyes
widening, and her flush deepening as she realized her friend
was so caught up with Angel at the moment, the young blond
probably wouldn't even notice if Willow were shouting at the
top of her lungs.

"What 'oh'?" Spike asked, drawing her attention back to him.
She opened her mouth to explain, then shut it again suddenly
unsure how to broach the subject.

When she had come to Angel's last night, she *had* thought
that looking at some of the prophesies and texts might help
Spike remember something more... but she'd also been
brimming with curiosity over what Spike was like when he
wasn't running around killing people and threatening her life.

Granted, the blonde vampire hadn't exactly been running
around helping them lately either, but he suddenly didn't seem
nearly as unapproachable now that she knew he wasn't
gunning for the group anymore.

"Um, well, it's Buffy's birthday tomorrow." Willow started slowly,
trying to gauge his reaction... but he was in what she had
secretly dubbed 'stone-face' mode again. There were a few
times over the course of the night that he'd shown some flicker
of emotion, some small hint that his laughter was genuine or
his interest was sincere, but most of the rest of the time he was
an inscrutable mask of apathy. "So we were sort of planning
this little surprise party thingie..." she trailed off, unable to get
the full invitation out.

What the heck was she doing?! This was Spike - *vampire*
Spike - vampire, as in no soul, Spike. Besides which, Buffy
didn't like Spike - birthdays were supposed to be fun
gatherings with friends... and maybe vampire-boyfriends... but
not enemies that actively tried killing you in the past.

"So I can expect some peace without the brood-king hanging
over my shoulder tomorrow night." Spike interrupted her mind's
sudden ramblings.

Willow focussed on him once again, realizing that he'd
misinterpreted where the conversation had been heading, "Uh,
yeah, I guess." She agreed automatically, suddenly finding it
easier to just let the whole invitation idea drop.

She paused guiltily as she collected the last of the books
though and found herself looking back up at him with shy
uncertainty, "I could stop by though... before the party, and,
well, drop off some more books for you, or something... if you
want."

Spike seemed to study her face rather intently for a moment
before nodding, "Sure, thanks."

Hoping that Buffy was ready to leave, Willow offered the
blonde vampire a small smile then gathered her things and
headed for the door, willing the fluttering in her stomach to go
away. What was wrong with her? The only other guy who'd
ever given her fluttery feelings was Xander... and she did *not*
feel towards Spike what she felt towards her childhood friend.

She *didn't*.

Much.

~~~~~

Spike frowned at the book in his hands, for some reason
unable to concentrate on the words spread across the page.
Something he couldn't quite put his finger on was nagging at
him incessantly... had been for a few days now, but what was
it?

Willow had, as promised, stopped by earlier with the books,
before leaving with Angel to head to the Bronze. That had
basically been the highlight of his day... seeing Willow that is,
because Angel had seemed even more distant and self-
absorbed than usual.

Aside from occasional trips to the fridge for blood, the older
vampire had locked himself away in his room the rest of the
day. Something out of the ordinary considering as how the two
vampires usually spent the better part of the day trying to piece
Spike's fractured and scattered memories together.

It must have had something to do with the Slayer's recent
tension over her dreams.

Shaking his head, Spike put the book down beside him and
headed to the fridge himself. He scowled slightly as he pulled
out one of the blood bags; the one stipulation, other than the
obvious promise not to threaten the Slayer or her friends, that
his sire had demanded: no more hunting.

In retrospect, Spike supposed it wasn't really all that different
than the last few years he could remember of the time he'd
spent in the future. Only then, the blood usually had a bit more
life to it - after allying himself with Saphira and her Watcher,
Kent, he'd restricted himself only to the fatally wounded, in
essence sparing them endless hours of pain while they waited
helplessly to die.

To think he'd thought *that* was lowering himself to new levels.
...At least then, the blood had been relatively fresh... and
*human*.

Blood bag still in hand, Spike briefly wondered how his sire
would fare at the party. Would the mortal slaying team top the
ensouled vampire's piece of cake with a dribble of blood?

Probably not... Angel wouldn't have allowed them to do so
anyway, knowing that it was Buffy's birthday...

An image of a blue-skinned demon flitted briefly though Spike's
mind, giving him pause.

Buffy's birthday... hadn't Willow mentioned before leaving that
the Slayer would be turning 17? Closing his eyes, Spike
forced his mind back... a party, Dru had wanted a party
sometime during their year together in Sunnydale... a party
that, though Spike hadn't found out until later, coincided with
Buffy's own birthday.

The memories of that entire year seemed to flood his mind at
once with that realization, Dru's party, the reassembling of the
Judge, the return of Angelus... Acathala... was that it? Was
that the big disaster he had come back in time to stop?

Angelus had gotten his hands on that bloody statue and
waltzed around declaring that the world be sucked into hell.
Drusilla had thought the idea was delightful. Spike
remembered being a little less enthused.

Perhaps that was it. If he stopped Angel from losing the soul...
Spike frowned, no, that wasn't it... it was a *Slayer* that he'd
been meant to help, not his sire... after all, his sire was still well
and souled in the future...

Yet, if that was the case then why was he suddenly plagued
with the memory of Angelus obsessing over Buffy to the point
of near insanity, mocking and degrading him while whisking
Drusilla away?

It had started then; with the Judge, with Buffy's birthday, Spike
was sure of it. The only question now was what to do about it.
If hi current memories were true, this was his chance to get
*his* Angelus back, this was a chance to be reunited with his
true sire... but on the other hand, he had the disturbing memory
of Angelus fully willing and able to use the Acathala to destroy
the world the two of them had once considered their
playground.

Dropping the blood bag, Spike hurried to the door... there was
one other piece to all this that he was missing... a way out that
he'd often thought about while Angelus and Dru were off
having their fun without him... what had it been?

Still thinking about it, Spike left the apartment, carefully
keeping to the shadows to avoid obvious detection as he made
his way to first place he could think of where the group would
head in the time of a crises: the highschool.

In his rush, he collided with the Slayer and his sire as he
strode through the library doors, sending all three of them
down to the ground.

"Spike, what are you doing here?" Angel asked, getting back to
his feet and helping Buffy up.

"Forget what Mr. Double-Agent Man is doing here, we don't
have time." Buffy reminded her boyfriend, moving to push by
the blonde vampire.

Spike reached out to stop her, "It's too late." he shook his
head, speaking loudly enough for everyone present to hear. "If
you're going after the Judge, it's too late."

The stake was pressed up against his chest before he even
had a chance to react and Buffy's hard eyes bored into his.
"How did you know about the Judge, seeing as how we just
found out about him tonight? And, better question: how, Mr.
I'm-Here-to-Help, could you possibly know we're too late?"

"I remembered what happened tonight..."

"Conveniently just a little too late?" Buffy finished for him
coldly, digging the tip of her weapon a little harder into his
chest.

Having had about enough of her attitude, and cold shoulder,
despite all the time he'd been staying with Angel and trying to
help, Spike snarled angrily and brought his hands up, knocking
her backwards and into Angel.

"Look, *Slayer*, it's been two hundred years for me alright -
and most of this era was not exactly memory inspiring - add to
that the not so smooth jump through time, and you'll have to
excuse me if I can't remember every detail of every day of your
pathetic life!"

Stalking past her and into the room he looked down at the
books scattered around, confirming that it was indeed the
Judge everyone seemed to be worried about.

"Now, the Judge, I remember... and by this time he was already
all pieced together..."

"Perhaps not," Giles interrupted, "You've no doubt already
changed the course of events just by removing yourself from
the..."

Eyes flashing as the memories of this time continued clarifying
themselves, Spike turned and glared at the Watcher, "This
whole mess was Dru's idea. Not mine. She was the one who
wanted the soddin' party, she was the one that decided to
make the legendary Judge her prized present, and she was the
one that planned for most of the arrangements."

Buffy shot him a dubious look, but Angel restrained her with a
gentle but firm squeeze to her arm. "Dru may be insane, she
may even be weak right now, but she isn't beyond putting
something like this together."

"Then what were you doing all this time Spike?" Buffy asked
with false sweetness, "Just sitting around twiddling your
thumbs and humouring all her little whims?"

The remark hit far closer to home than anyone present could
have possibly known, but Spike refrained from reacting. In
another life, he had no doubt that he'd have pounced on the
deliberately snide comment with a vengeance, but somewhere
along the way, though he still couldn't remember when or how,
that impulsiveness and instantaneous rise to anger had
become far more refined and controlled.

Aside from the whole Apocalyptic mess he was trying to
remember, that was the other thing bothering him. With each
memory of this past, came memories of emotions, memories of
feelings - yet no such emotions or feelings seemed to touch
him now. ...A large part of him was very curious as to why
exactly that was...

"I was otherwise incapacitated." Spike snarled instead, "Which
was pretty much a moot point seeing as how your precious
lover there lost his soul around this time and came over to take
charge with Dru anyways."

The silence that followed that remark was so absolute that
Spike could clearly hear the sounds of the crickets chirping
outside beyond the school wall, muted only minimally by the
heartbeats of those gathered in the school library itself.

"O-okay," Buffy stammered, recovering first, "First of all, Angel
is *not* my lover, and secondly," she turned to look up at
Angel, "-why didn't you ever say anything about being able to
lose your soul?"

"I didn't know I could." Angel shook his head helplessly,
looking over Buffy's head towards Spike, a definite look of fear
in his eyes. "How?" he asked.

"Uh, I second the how." Willow spoke up, looking back and
forth between Angel, Spike and Buffy. "Cause, if I'm not
wrong, which unfortunately I really don't think I am, some of us
have already invited Angel into our homes."

Spike might've laughed if that other little nagging detail wasn't
also demanding his attention, "The curse," he looked Angel in
the eye, ignoring everyone else, "-*your* curse," he
emphasized, "-was intended to make you suffer, you were
supposed to be laden with the guilt of your actions... if that
burden ever lessened, if you ever found even one short
moment of perfect happiness, the curse would be lifted and the
demon would be freed."

The blank look on Angel's face slowly began fading into one of
understanding as Spike finished.

"Not to rain on this little revelation," Xander piped up, "-but
hello? Judge, death, destruction - I really don't think the big
guy over there is gonna be jumping for joy anytime in the near
future. No offense, but you must've gotten your wires crossed
and your dates messed up."

Releasing his previously unconscious half-embrace of Buffy,
Angel backed up and away from the group several paces. "I
need to leave." Angel nodded, still holding Spike's gaze.

Buffy turned around to face him, "Leave? We just went down
that road earlier when Miss Calendar told you take care of that
arm - but we know what might happen now, we can watch out
for the signs, we can avoid the whole thing - Angel, we *need*
you here, now, with us... with *me*." she argued, reaching out
towards him.

Angel closed his eyes, remaining out of her reach, "Spike, was
there a way to bring my soul back? To keep it secure?"

Spike glanced over at the far wall, somewhere along the way
Angel *had* to have been re-cursed again, because as far as
he could remember, the Angel that had sent him back here to
the past was still very soul-having. "Yes."

"How?" Buffy demanded desperately, turning to face him again.

"I don't think I was around when that happened." Spike
admitted with a frown, that nagging detail finally coming to
light, "But I do remember some teacher finding a way to make it
happen after Angelus had been running around for a while. I
think she had the solution too, because she wound up a dead
present for the Watcher the same night of her discovery."

All eyes turned to Giles, who blinked in confusion. "I don't
know anything about the details of the curse," he insisted, "Nor
are the Watcher diaries of any use in that matter - I assure you
I read them all thoroughly when I first found out about Angel."

"She had to have been close to you though Giles." Angel
pressed, "Someone you liked, someone you loved, a family
member, a friend... Ang-*I* wouldn't have left her for you to find
otherwise."

Buffy snapped her fingers, "A school teacher? Miss Calendar!
She was in one of my dreams too, except I couldn't understand
why at the time."

"Miss Calendar?" Willow repeated dubiously, "But she's so... I
mean, how could she know anything about Angel's curse?"

Xander nodded, "Wills does have a point. She teaches how to
program a computer, not how to curse a vampire. Besides," he
continued reasonably, "-if she knew how to turn evil vampires
into good vampires, then why aren't there more good vampires
around?"

"Let's ask her." Buffy reasoned, a determined look on her face.

"She's been with us for quite some time now," Giles finally
spoke up, "-and she's come to know you all rather well. I'm
sure if she did indeed have any knowledge regarding Angel
she would have come forward with it by now." he finished
coming to his fellow teacher's defence.

Buffy stared at him. "We'll ask her *nicely*." was as far as she
was willing to bargain, before heading for the door once again.

For a moment Giles just stared after her, then finally snapped
back into his Watcher mode, "Buffy, where are you going?"

She didn't bother turning around as she marched through the
library doors, "To stop the Judge. If Spike's right and he's
already all pieced together, he's even more of a threat."

Angel and Spike both shared a quick look, then Angel sprinted
out after her. With a small scowl, Spike reluctantly followed
after the older vampire.

Spike shook his head with exasperation as he finally caught up
with the blond Slayer. Stupid twit didn't even have a clue how
to slow this bugger down, let alone stop it, and she was still
charging off into battle... if *she* was the Slayer he was
supposed to help, the world would probably be doomed
regardless of anything he tried doing to rectify his error.
 

~Part: Four~

Spike winced slightly as Willow dabbed at the slash running
down his side from the back of his shoulder blade to his waist,
and she glanced up at him from where she was crouched
beside him and gave him a tight smile.

"Sorry." she murmured for the umpteenth time, still awestruck
at how quickly the wound was healing. The other cuts and
bruises marring his upper body were now nearly indiscernible,
only the largest and deepest of them stubbornly discolouring
the vampire's otherwise smooth, pale skin.

Needless to say the attempt at stopping the Judge, while he
was still in a lair full of loyal vampires, had not gone overly
well.

If she were perfectly honest with herself, she probably didn't
have to even be there at the moment, but Buffy had Giles and
Angel had resolutely insisted he was fine... and some small
part of her had wanted to make sure Spike was alright. The
thought that Angel would have probably been far more
knowledgeable in tending to vampiric wounds hadn't even
crossed her mind.

Buffy had, of course cautioned her against coming, Giles too,
both of them insisting that Spike was, despite his recent
behaviour and apparent good intentions, an unknown factor in
all of this - and a demon that could easily kill her without even
realizing it.

She had come anyways.

Spike looked down at her, and for one brief moment, his gaze
seem to soften slightly. Willow swallowed nervously, and
quickly averted her eyes to the wound that was still obviously
closing well on its own.

"Maybe I should get going." she finally observed, realizing that
she really wasn't doing much good, "Cause, everything here
seems to be... healing."

Spike grabbed her wrist and stood as she started to move
away, but her fear was short-lived as she looked up into his
eyes and noticed that they once again seemed a little softer.
He held her gaze in silence for nearly a minute before turning
away.

"Thank you." he murmured quietly, before releasing her and
carefully lying himself down on the sofa.

She stood there uncertainly for another few seconds, before
gathering her courage and moving to kneel beside him on the
floor. He watched her approach inscrutably, then hesitantly
reached out and gently tucked a few loose strands of her hair
behind her ear.

"I don't remember this you." he finally stated quietly, his eyes
leaving her face and focussing on some point over her
shoulder.

"Y-you... remember *me*?" Willow asked with interest. The
way he'd said it, it wasn't the way other people tended to tell
her how they did or didn't remember her. His tone sounded far
too personal - maybe even intimate.

"I remember... a *different* you." he corrected. An empty gaze
finally found hers again and his voice was detached in a
strange sort of way as he murmured his next revelation. "I
killed you, you know."

Willow stared at him, a thousand different thoughts and
emotions washing down upon her, "Oh." was all she could
muster in response. What else could she say to that? Yet,
despite that new piece of knowledge she didn't feel overly
frightened of him... at least no more so than she had earlier
that , or yesterday, or the day before that.

It was almost as if they were talking about someone else. She
could feel her heart pounding against her chest, whether in
fear, anxiety, or just plain nervousness, she couldn't tell... but
despite his news, that little voice in the back of her head that
liked to assure her that she was immune to all those darker
things in life, was doing a superb job of making the implications
of that single statement sound very surreal and distant in
nature.

"It was before..." he frowned, whatever event he was searching
for obviously not yet clear to him, "Some other dim-wit had
turned you." he finally settled for instead.

"T-turned me?" Willow squeaked, her momentary sense of
calm detachment beginning to shatter, "-like into a vampire?"
Though logically she'd always known that threat was always a
given, first of all because of the town she lived in, and secondly
because of the company she kept, having that fear so suddenly
and firmly confirmed disturbed her to no end nonetheless.

Spike was staring off into space over her shoulder again
though, his expression still unreadable, "You were quite the
killer by the time I'd realized what had happened, and with Dru
gone..." he closed his eyes, and though she couldn't read his
expression, she could hear a hint of emotion in his voice, "-I
thought you'd taken a fancy to me, I thought it would be
different with you." he snorted derisively, "You were only using
me to learn the things your own sire hadn't, or couldn't, teach
you. Pissed me off royally by that time... so I staked you."

Again Willow found herself struck dumb at the revelation, "Oh."
she repeated. Despite the fear and uncertainty and unease his
words were inspiring within her, an overwhelming sense of guilt
and compassion swept over her too.

She barely knew the vampire lying on the sofa beside her,
she'd been deathly afraid of him just a few short months ago,
and yet, the thought that she could so cruelly and thoughtlessly
hurt someone the way his tone indicated she had him - even a
soulless vampire - sickened her.

Glancing back up at him, she noticed his eyes had glazed over
somewhat, taking on a distant air as he continued to stare at
that spot over her shoulder. Obviously, their little conversation
was over.

Yet she didn't move to leave.

Since moving in with Angel, Spike had been relatively subdued
- with her and Angel at least - and aside from his outburst
earlier that night with Buffy, he hadn't acted in any threatening
way towards any of the rest of the group. Add to that the things
she'd read and seen with regards to his longstanding
relationship with Drusilla and she'd been immediately curious
about him... a curiosity that she had to admit had more recently
developed into a... well... a crush.

>From everything she'd read a vampire was a demon, and as
such, had no soul. Therefore, they could not love, could not
care, didn't know or show concern or compassion - they lusted,
they desired, they new passion and possessiveness - but true,
all encompassing, unrestrained love? It was impossible.

But Spike seemed to have it.

...Or at least, he'd *had* it.

Something, somewhere along the way had changed *this*
Spike though. Something he couldn't remember, or at least
wasn't sharing, and Willow just knew somewhere inside her
that if he could face whatever that was, he might possibly find
that love within him again, then maybe... then maybe what? He
could love her?

Shaking her head at the ridiculous thought, she frowned.
She'd never loved anyone other than Xander in her life, and
the first guy she starts having not-normal-Willow thoughts
about is a vampire?

Pushing those thoughts away, she let her eyes travel down his
still bare chest, an unfamiliar tingle of desire coursing through
her until her eyes fell upon the mark on his chest. It looked like
a combination between a mild bruise and a mild burn - the
place where the Judge had touched him while Angel and Buffy
had tried sneaking around to attack from behind.

Spike hadn't been destroyed by the Judge's touch, and from
the research the group had done earlier, that could only mean
that Spike hadn't any humanity left within him - yet he'd still
been injured, albeit only insignificantly.

Willow sighed and leaned her head down against the cushions
of the sofa, her head coming to rest just under Spike's chin as
she unconsciously wrapped a comforting arm around his chest.

She needed to get home before it got too late, but maybe first
she'd just get a couple hours of rest first...

~~~~~

Angel stared blankly up at the ceiling, the events of the last few
hours coursing disturbingly through his mind. His emotions
and thoughts were in such turmoil, he had no idea what exactly
he was currently feeling with regards to the events he'd
witnessed at the old warehouse. Only two facts remained
distinctly clear in his mind: the Judge was still out there
somewhere; but Dru wasn't... not anymore.

The Judge... Angel had watched from the shadows as Spike
had entered the old warehouse, literally crashing the party that
had been going on. In the ensuing silence caused by his
sudden reappearance, Dru had pointed an accusatory finger at
him and ordered the judge to destroy him.

The other minions had moved in to bring their former master to
the blue-skinned, horned demon, but Spike had merely
laughed and approached of his own free will, spreading his
arms invitingly as the Judge reached out to consume him.

There'd been a small spark perhaps as the Judge had reached
out and touched Spike, then nothing, causing the Judge to
back off. "This one has insufficient humanity to be worth my
efforts."

Spike had smirked then looked around at the gathered minions
before grabbing Dru and shoving her towards the demon. "How
about her, hmmm? Bet she's just brimming with, how did you
once put it... love and jealousy? No, that wasn't it..." with a
small shrug he motioned for the Judge to feast.

The blue skinned demon had hesitated a moment, but only
moment, before reaching out for the one that had reassembled
him once again. Dru's shrieking end and dissipation had
unnerved the other minions though, who by then had decided
that Spike was completely out of his mind, self preservation
probably also driving them on as they rushed him.

Using the ensuing chaos as a distraction, Buffy had emerged,
preparing to attack the Judge's turned back. Angel had been
frozen in place however at the scene he'd just witnessed.

The large blue demon must have sensed the young Slayer's
presence though, for he reached out to grab her, finally kicking
Angel into action. Diving out of his own hiding place, Angel
had tackled Buffy out of the way, but by that time, the Judge's
angry bellow had attracted the attention of the minions
attacking Spike. Splitting up, half had moved in to go after
Buffy and Angel, the rest remaining to try to finish Spike off.

Somehow, the three of them had gotten out in one piece
though.

But the Judge... the Judge had *touched* Spike....

...And Dru... Spike had... had...

Rolling over onto his side, Angel stared sightlessly at the wall
across from him, he'd always thought that Spike had honestly
and truly loved Drusilla - what would happen in the future that
could possibly destroy that love so completely, so entirely -
drive those last shards of humanity from Spike in such a way?

Another question was also bothering Angel though; if Spike
held so little humanity, what catastrophe could possibly be so
bad that the blonde vampire would choose to control the same
innate demonic urges that Angel was plagued with, just to
make sure that said catastrophe didn't occur?

Realizing that he wasn't getting much sleep with his brain so
actively awake with unanswered questions and doubts, Angel
sat up and swung his legs off the bed. Clad only in his boxers,
he unlocked his bedroom door and stepped out into the semi
darkness of the apartment.

Spike was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking down at
Willow who was sleeping peacefully, stretched out across the
cushions. There was a wistful longing in the slightly glazed
blue eyes, but even that was without any true deep emotion...
almost like a surface thought of something that might have
been but wouldn't be.

Deciding not to disturb the other vampire, Angel started to walk
by to the kitchenette quietly, when Spike spoke up softly.

"I think I remember." he stated bluntly, out of the blue, not
looking at Angel but getting up from the sofa and sitting himself
down at the table instead.

Forgoing the trip to the fridge, Angel pulled out a chair of his
own and sat down. "Remember what you came back for?"
Angel asked curiously.

Spike nodded and chuckled dryly, "All of it... the last two
hundred years... everything." Looking back at Willow's
sleeping form, he tilted his head, "I'd forgotten how beautiful
she was." he admitted with surprising feeling, "She's the
reason I remembered."

Unsure what to make of that statement, Angel merely remained
silent. Spike finally turned to face him, all hints of emotion
drained from his face. "I was drinking myself under a table
after dusting her when it suddenly occurred to me what day it
was." he continued with a voice devoid of emotion. "So I
figured why not head to LA and see what the old sire's up to...
maybe finally give in to that part of me that just wanted us to be
like we used to be - even if that meant giving up humans and
killing. If not, I could at least rub it in a bit that Buffy was
dead." Looking up, Spike's empty gaze met Angel's curiously
concerned ones. "I was at the end of my rope... you were all I
had left, you know?"

Nodding, Angel continued to hold his tongue. Somehow, he
wasn't sure he really wanted to hear whatever was coming
next. The elation he should have been feeling that Spike
would have one day sought him out on his own had been
dampened by the confirmation of Buffy's death, the allusion of
Willow's demise, and the trepidation of the news that was
about to come.

Spike didn't continue though, instead he broke their gaze and
leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling as he changed
the subject, "I knew I'd come back too far when I first got here,
but..." he broke off as he chuckled again, the laughter never
reaching his eyes, "...Xander was closer to the truth than he
realized... I was supposed to end up in New York, March of
2180."

For a long moment the two sat in silence, then Angel finally
asked, "It happens in New York?"

Spike shook his head, "*I* was in New York. The Slayer was
supposed to arrive to pick up some old scrolls or something for
her Watcher, then head to Hawaii to stop some upcoming
demonic ritual. I didn't really care what her plans were. I
delayed her in New York... toyed with her for a few weeks,
getting close enough for her to know I was always there, never
getting close enough for her to see or attack." He snorted, "I'd
already killed dozens, she was just another... she missed her
date in Hawaii, and on the same night I finally came out of the
shadows and drained her, the Gates of Hell were swung open."

Again silence descended upon the two, Angel still trying to
process everything Spike had just told him, Spike lost in his
memories of the time.

"What made you want undo all that?" Angel asked to break the
silence, "Wouldn't you have welcomed the results of something
like that?"

Spike shrugged, "I'd already realized a long time ago that I
liked the world as it was... I also needed humans to kill...
*Slayers* to hurt... don't get much of that when demons are
rounding humans up like cattle and throwing them into firepits
for no reason in particular other than to take back a planet
they'd once roamed freely themselves."

"So someone in the future trusted *you* to go back to fix all
this?" Angel still couldn't understand how likely *that* solution
could have possibly been given the hints of the future Spike he
was getting.

"They didn't have much choice." Spike shrugged again. "They
needed someone who'd *been* there in 2180 in the first place,
and they needed someone who didn't have to worry about
otherwise misplacing their sanity or soul during the transfer. It
wasn't a perfect spell, it didn't just send the volunteer back in
time... it literally replaced the essence of the past body with the
essence, or in my case the demon, of the future one."

Pausing for a moment as the effects of the spell sunk in, Angel
frowned, "If you're your future self in your past self's body, then
what happened to this time's Spike? Did he get sent to the
future?"

Strumming his fingers against the table-top, Spike shrugged
unconcerned, "No clue. He's probably completely gone now...
the spell was never intended to switch us, just to send me back
to stop myself from going after the 2180 Slayer."

Finally standing, to get the blood that he *really* needed now,
Angel shook his head in wonder, "Was there any plan to get
you back into your own time when your job was finished?" he
wondered aloud.

"Never much thought about it." Spike sighed, getting up and
moving to the sofa, "Most likely scenario is that I'd just cease
being, I suppose. The spell was worded and cast so that I'd be
around at least long enough to stop the target event, after that,
I can't see how I could exist... the future, and therefore *me*...
would be completely altered and different by then."

There was no concern in the younger vampire's voice as he
finished his best guess scenario, no care either, as if his
demise were as significant to him as the mortals he
indiscriminately fed from.

Drinking the blood cold, Angel tossed the bag and reemerged
to see Spike lying on his side on the sofa, facing Willow and
staring at her sleeping face in much the same way as he had
been when Angel had first emerged from the bedroom.

Angel was just nearing his room when he turned around and
stared at Spike's back, "What ever happened between us?" he
asked curiously, needing to know, "Back when you... lost
Willow."

There was a pause, and for a minute, Angel wondered if Spike
was going to answer at all. "It didn't work out." a cold voice
quietly informed him just as he was about to forget the question
and head back into his room. The finality in the statement told
the older vampire that pursuing the subject at that time wouldn't
be forthcoming of much else.
 

~Part: Five~

Buffy picked absently at the edge of the bandage wrapped
around her left forearm, her thoughts still on the evening's fight
with the Judge. She hadn't seen it before... or maybe just
hadn't *wanted* to see it before... but Spike really was
different.

It hadn't been so long ago after all when he'd ordered a small
room full of minions to stop their frenzied feeding just because
she'd had a stake pressed dangerously close to Drusilla's
heart.

She hadn't even planned that particular action out really, it had
simply been the only option she could see at the time... for all
her strength and speed, there was no way she could've
stopped them all. Not in time to save everyone.

In fact she'd been so shocked that Spike had actually backed
off just to keep Drusilla safe that she hadn't even staked the
vampiress, as she probably *should* have done once all the
humans were clear. It was just that she'd never before seen
such intense loyalty between demons.

Granted she knew they weren't *all* solitary loners; they had
their own unique, albeit strange and twisted, social structures -
but she'd never before seen such unwavering, unalterable
devotion between two soulless vampires. Keyword being
'soulless'. But she had seen it nonetheless, right there in
Spike's eyes when he'd turned around to face her: he would
have done anything... *anything*... for his Dru.

Tonight though, he'd tossed her away like she was nothing...
less than nothing. There'd been no shocked remorse at what
he'd done afterwards, no sign of regret, no doubt, no pained
loss... He'd been as blank a slate, as they parted ways and
limped themselves home, as he had been that first night Angel
had dragged him into the library to relate the younger
vampire's fantastic story of time travel and coming doom.

Not even Angel had been expecting what he'd seen Spike do
this evening though, and, however much she wanted to ignore
it at times, Angel *knew* Spike. Angel - Angelus, she corrected
herself - had shaped and molded the blonde vampire; he'd
taught, instructed and mentored the young fledgling that would
one day become Spike.

For goodness sakes, *Angel* had looked shocked, pained and
confused enough for the three of them combined, ten times
over.

So if, for whatever the reasons, Spike had truly come to care
so little about the one being that had once been the entire
world to him, what then did he think of these mortals he was
helping? Of her, one who was already a sworn enemy; of her
friends, who'd never been more than a nuisance to him in the
past; of Angel even, the sire he was perfectly willing to sacrifice
only a few short weeks ago?

...And she'd let Willow go over to see him tonight...

A knot of worry wound itself up in her gut. When she'd told
Willow earlier that Spike was perfectly capable of killing
without even thinking about it, she'd said it more to frighten
Willow into staying away than any true belief that Spike would
actually do anything... but now that she'd had more time to
think everything through, those same words seemed suddenly
to take on a whole new meaning.

Debating whether or not to try calling the Rosenburg residence
to see if Willow had made it back, Buffy reminded herself firmly
that Angel still seemed convinced that Spike wasn't any kind of
direct or immediate threat to the group.

Still... what did a promise mean to demon? Had Spike even
promised not go after any of them? It had, once again, been
Angel who had informed everyone of Spike's acquiescence
towards the 'no violence against humans' rule Buffy had
insisted upon. Maybe Angel had just made it all up to protect
his demon's childe, maybe Angel was only seeing and hearing
what he wanted to... hadn't he snuck around behind her back
to warn Dru away from Sunnydale after all? Obviously some
part of him, however small, still felt *something* towards the
vampires he - his demon - had created.

Groaning as she closed her eyes and tried to will her worries
away, Buffy studiously reminded herself that no matter what,
she did still trust her undead boyfriend. If Angel really thought
that Spike was, for the moment, relatively trustworthy - if he
even thought that for whatever insane reason Spike deserved
a chance, she'd try her best to ignore all her own instincts and
give it a go.

After all, who was she to complain if she wound up with
another master vampire at her side in the grander scheme of
things?

...Of course, that was a pretty big 'if'...
 

~~~~~

Innocence.

That's what it was. After all, how long had it been since he'd
sensed such pure, untainted, undiminished innocence?

Sitting up once again, Spike moved himself away from the
sleeping red-head and back instead to the table he'd been
sitting at with Angel only a few short minutes ago. For a
moment he just sat there in silence, listening alternatively
between his sire's continued restlessness in the bedroom, and
young Willow's long, deep, peaceful slumber.

He hadn't been lying when he'd told her earlier that he couldn't
remember this youthful, eternally hopeful and optimistic version
of the female he would later share a bed with. No, her demon
had been the exact opposite of everything this Willow seemed
to be... lustful, devious, vicious, violent... he couldn't remember
a single gentle touch that had ever passed between him and
her vampiric version.

Now that he'd felt this mortal's touch though... her wholly giving
and compassionate nature... as much as it disgusted a part of
him for the weakness it represented, it had also stirred
something else within him... curiosity, perhaps. For even the
mortal Willow he could recall had been, for the most part, a
strong-willed, self-assured young woman who refused to bat an
eye even at his anger. She'd still had her shy and insecure
moments - moments he had pounced on with delightful glee
when he'd had no other way of attacking her with that ancient
chip stuck in him - but she had always bounced back, had
always snapped out of it and found a way to turn the tables on
him eventually.

In her own way, she had been as challenging to handle as
Buffy - better though perhaps, because with Willow, it had
always just been words. Threats, taunts or mocking devoid of
the same bitter hatred and resentment that always underlay his
bickering with her best friend - with Buffy. With Willow, it had
been almost... fun. Which really wasn't saying much, but back
then he'd had no other way to pass the time: help the Slayer,
ignore the Slayer, plot against the Slayer... none of it had
mattered, because the one thing he desperately *wanted* to do
- kill the Slayer - had been made completely impossible for
him.

Maybe that was why he'd been so set on turning Willow once
he'd realized he was free of the consequences induced by the
chip. Maybe that was why he'd been so disappointed when
he'd realized that someone else had beaten him to it in his
absence. Maybe that was why he'd snapped so quickly and
entirely when she had told him she was leaving.

...Maybe that was why he'd found himself crawling to his sire
for help and companionship that fateful night: his last
desperate gamble to secure a stable and eternal future had
failed.

He'd been alone by then long enough to have learned that for
all his talk, he really couldn't hack it. He needed others;
minions, partners, lovers... hell *enemies*... anyone; he just
seemed to lose all direction and sense of self when he didn't
have someone there to keep him grounded in some way.

In retrospect, he really could have sired a bunch of losers to
order around for a while, but at that time, he'd felt he'd needed
something more... something familiar... and no matter what had
happened between them over the years, he knew that there
was nothing more familiar than the bond he shared with his
sire.

Of course fifteen minutes after stumbling, literally, onto Angel's
doorstep...

A muffled cry brought his wondering thoughts back to Angel's
apartment, and he listened quietly as Angel called out
Drusilla's name several times, followed by pathetically pain-
wracked apologies. Clenching his jaw slightly in annoyance,
Spike wondered why the big sap had to make such a huge fuss
over all this.

Angelus had lost his initial interest in Dru altogether - and that
was long before he'd been ever been slammed with his soul. If
anything the older vampire should be glad Dru had finally been
taken out of her misery.

The faint, barely audible noise from the other side of the wall
tapered off, and the vampire on the other side returned to his
tossing and turning. Spike let his eyes wander back to Willow.

Without thinking really, he stood and walked back to the sofa,
stretching out beside her and sandwiching her between his
own body and the cushions of the back of the sofa. That
familiar tingle of lust worked its way through him, both for her
blood and her body, but he pushed it away with practised ease.
All too often would that very lust be the cause of many an
unintended and premature death of one of his victims. As a
result, he'd learned to discipline himself into better controlling
it.

The last few decades of hell-on-earth that he'd lived through
had helped too. After all, he'd had to force himself off
senseless killing and torture altogether during that time. Then
again, by that point there'd been no fun in it anymore
anyways... he couldn't break someone who'd already lived
through a worse hell than anything even his darkest dreams
had ever touched.

Slowly and quietly slipping an arm around the warm, little body
he was facing, he studied her face, recalling bloodied and
fang-filled grins, picturing her evil smirk and dark laughter,
envisioning the wicked gleam that lit her eyes just before she'd
pounce on her unfortunate victim...

Satisfied, when no remnants of admiring love churned within
him, he relaxed, holding her against him loosely as he
discovered this alien feeling of warmth radiating from her body.
He couldn't say that he wanted her the way he once had, he
couldn't even say that he felt any remote inclination to turn her
anymore... but unlike the complete absence of emotion that
had left him a hallow void even when he looked at Dru, with
Willow there was a definite curiosity he was feeling.

She was just so different than how he remembered either
mortal or immortal versions of her... she sighed softly suddenly,
and for a tense moment Spike wondered if she was about to
wake up. His current half-embrace of her would be an
interesting one to explain if the need arose and her screams
brought Angel barrelling into the room.

She didn't wake up though, and the all too disturbing image of
an infuriated Angel coming down on him once again fled
Spike's mind, and locked itself away in the far depths his
subconscious once again.

She did however snuggle a little closer against him.

Something long forgotten thrashed against its encasements
somewhere deep inside him, but he instinctively and dutifully
quelled it. Better it be left unreleased and unexplored - he'd
allowed himself to be weak once before, and it was *not* going
to happen again.

It had cost him too much the first time.

~~~~~

Willow awoke to the most unfamiliar, yet pleasant, feeling
she'd ever felt first thing in the morning and smiled softly as
she opened her eyes.

Disorientation and fearful incomprehension drove the calm,
peaceful, feeling of security from her mind though as she
stared at the naked, male chest in front of her and became fully
aware of the strong arms wrapped around her.

Panic filled her as she desperately tried to pull herself away,
only to encounter unrelenting cushions behind her, effectively
sandwiching her between them and the unfamiliar body. She
was about to scream when she felt the arms loosen from
around her and a soothing voice penetrate her blind fear.

"Willow! Willow, its alright, its okay... you're okay."

That voice at least was familiar, Willow realized, relaxing
slightly as she felt herself being gently lifted to a sitting
position.

"You're at Angel's place, you fell asleep and I moved you to the
sofa, that's all." Spike continued, holding her lightly, giving her
ample freedom to move away. She closed her eyes again and
swallowed, taking several deep breaths as the memories from
the previous night came flooding back to her.

"Sorry. I forgot." she admitted, her body suddenly becoming
aware of Spike's closeness as she calmed down. Then
another realization hit home causing her eyes to fly open and
widen in horror, "Ohmygosh I slept at Angel's place... *Buffy's*
Angel... *she* hasn't even ever slept at Angel's place, and *I*
just did... but I didn't sleep *with* Angel, so maybe that's okay,
and what am I saying, I slept with you... a boy... I'm not even
supposed to have boys in my room and I just slept with one in
anther guy's apartment... I am sooo dead when my parents find
out..." she turned to face a bewildered looking Spike, "Maybe
you could bite me... you know, kill me... then I won't have to go
home and face them..."

His look darkened somewhat at her words and he rose from the
sofa for the kitchen, "You're parents aren't home, Willow,
remember? And no one's going to know you stayed the night
here if you don't tell them." he re-emerged with a glass of water
and handed it over to her as he sat down beside her, this time
keeping an obvious space between them, "And if you're that
worried about sleeping with a 'boy'... first, I'm not one, and
second, I wasn't sleeping, you were the only one that was."

Taking a sip, it suddenly dawned on her how her harshly her
words may have come out, and she looked over at the blonde
vampire beside her sheepishly, "Spike, I'm sorry, I didn't mean
it like that... I mean about the... you - and me - part... you felt
really good..." she flushed crimson when she realized how that
just sounded, then lost all power of speech as Spike looked
over and met her gaze.

She couldn't read his eyes, but he offered her a small grin, "It's
okay, I know what you meant." He gestured at her watch then,
as he shooed her off the sofa, "You'd better get going though, if
you don't want to miss school."

School. School! She'd completely forgotten about school!
Looking at her watch, she almost sighed with relief... it was
only six-thirty... she should still have time to run home and
change and get her things...

Setting her glass of water down on the table, she turned back
to Spike, who was making himself comfortable on the sofa,
obviously ready to finally get some sleep of his own. Her eyes
slowly travelled to the gash on his side as he rolled over, the
skin had already closed, and all that remained was a pinkish
line indicating where the gaping wound had once been.

Amazing, she thought to herself, as she hurried to the door...
less than six hours to heal what would have taken a normal
human several weeks to heal. By tonight, there'd probably be
nothing left at all showing the wound.

Still shaking her head in wonder, she quickly exited the
building and headed for home. Amazing, she thought again,
with a small smile to herself, how incredibly good Spike's body
had felt holding hers... she could feel her cheeks growing warm
as she tried recapturing that feeling she'd been enveloped in
just before panicking.

She was floating by the time she reached her empty house,
part of her wondering if she'd ever have a chance to feel that
feeling again, part of her wondering when she'd started
wondering things like that. It wasn't like her to lust... it wasn't
like her to even think lusty thoughts... Xander-thoughts weren't
lusty perse, they were more... well, needy.

Next year was her last year of highschool, and she still hadn't
ever had a boyfriend or even just dated. Bronzing was cool,
but that was only because Buffy and Xander... and lately
Cordelia... had invited her along.

Of course there was Oz, she supposed, he seemed to be
showing some interest in her, ever since Career Week. But
what if he was just trying to be nice to her... Willow the perfect
friend... Willow the girl who can help me with school... it was
hard to tell.

Her recently growing Xander-crush was more safe by
comparison... *if* of course he could get over the Willow the
girl who's like a sister to me opinion he still seemed to cling to.
After all they'd been best friends for their whole lives... how
could they not be perfect for each other? No one knew her like
Xander did, and no one knew Xander like she did.

...So why were her Spike-thoughts so rapidly dimming her
Xander-thoughts?

Because Spike had loved her. Xander still didn't see her.

Though he hadn't said so in so many words, she was sure now
that that was what Spike had once felt towards her... that is,
what the future Spike had once felt towards the future her...
She shook her head as she realized she was thinking of the
future in the past tense, suddenly glad that she didn't have
English today.

The million dollar question now though was did he - or
perhaps, more accurately, *could* he - love her *now*.

For all her conflicting and unfamiliar emotions towards him, she
was not so blind as to realize that this Spike was somehow
hardened against everything, was somehow devoid of
whatever ability or inclination to emote, and though he did
seem to genuinely enjoy her company - or at least find it
interesting enough to devote all of his attention to - she had to
wonder if he'd ever be able to *feel* anything deeper ever
again.

Maybe Angel would know. Angel spent far more time with
Spike than she...

Resolving to talk to the dark-haired vampire when she next got
the chance, Willow quickly gave herself one final check in the
mirror, before grabbing her school bag and rushing out the
door.

She'd actually be on time for school... and no would know that
she'd just slept with a... a not-boy.
 

~Part: Six~

Angel stumbled out of bed and reached for his clothes -
between Spike, Dru, Buffy and the Judge, he was not getting
much in the way of sleep.

It was all his soul's fault too. His soulless half, as far as he
could recall had never dwelt on problems and had been
perfectly happy to just live in the moment, take what it wanted
and kill, destroy, or otherwise remove the cause of any other
problems and annoyances without a second thought.

Perfectly happy.

Angel groaned, well, Xander was right about one thing at least
- perfect happiness was not going to be too much of a problem
anytime in the immediate future. Or, at least as long as he
continued dwelling on the recent problems, shocks, and
complexities that had reared themselves in the last little while.
He almost chuckled out loud at that thought: as long as he kept
himself miserable he was safe.

...Of course, if what Spike had said was true, he'd managed to
lose his soul around this time once before anyways, as
incredibly irrational as that seemed. Unfortunately there was
one very possible reason he could think of that might make that
happen: Buffy.

Her acceptance - her *love* - had often made him forget his
demon... she didn't look at him like he was a monster, she
never shrank away from him in horror or disgust, she had long
ago lost that glimmer of mistrust at the knowledge that he was
in essence a being that should, by all rights, have met the
pointed end of her stake the minute she'd found out the truth
about him.

She made him feel human. She made him feel content.

Evidently those gypsies hadn't been too keen on the idea that
he should ever feel those emotions again.

In all his time since he'd been cursed, from the first little while
as a conscience-stricken vampire, to the later years as a
reluctant yet desperate, self-loathing scavenger, Angel couldn't
recall ever actually hating the gypsies for what they'd done.
They had stopped a killer without become one, they had ended
a violent and bloody reign of terror, they had bottled a beast
that had inspired fear and respect even amongst other, older,
demons.

More recently in fact, he'd actually begun feeling grateful for
the so-called curse - seeing it as more of a blessing than a
form of punishment. After all, if it hadn't been for them, he
would have never found what he had with Buffy. He'd either
have been hunted down and staked by a Slayer at some point,
or he'd have gone after Buffy with a hungry intent to kill. The
gypsies had allowed him to find redemption... to find love... or
so he thought.

Now though, now that the whole of the curse had been
revealed, he realized just how cruel it was... and he hated them
for it. They hadn't cared about stopping Angel - about
destroying Angelus - they had only put the demon on hold.
They had only forced the soul of the mortal he'd once been to
feel the guilt of all the lives his demon had taken while the only
true punishment the demon was forced to endure was loss of
control over the body it inhabited. ...And it was only a
*temporary* loss of control at that.

Dressed, Angel stalked over to the door and let himself out of
the bedroom. Passing by the sofa, he cast a glance at his
childe. Willow was gone, and Spike now lay where she had
been stretched out the previous night.

Spike.

With all the distractions, first with Spike's partial amnesia, then
with the Judge, Angel hadn't really considered what he should
do with the blonde vampire when all was said and done.

Especially now that Spike's memories had returned and the
reason for the time jump/replacement, whatever it was that
Spike had gone through, had been made clearer.

A part of Angel very desperately wanted Spike to remain here -
to stay, and maybe even learn to like Buffy and her friends and
become a more active member of the whole slaying team - to
fill that aching void of loneliness Angel so often felt himself lost
in.

The other part of Angel, however, was very quickly realizing
that this was *not* the Spike he remembered - either from
eighty years ago, or even from a few months ago. *This* Spike
was little more than a hardened, emotionless, shell of a demon.
While at first Angel had tried rationalizing it all to the blank
spots in Spike's memories, or even the stress of the backwards
time jump - somewhere deep inside he knew it wasn't as simple
as that.

Besides, the memories had come back and Spike had had
several weeks to adjust now, yet there still hadn't been any
obvious change in the blonde vampire's demeanor - if
anything, last night, after Spike's memories had come back, the
other vampire had seemed even more hollow and cold.
Especially the hints Angel had gotten with regards to the
character and temperament Spike had possessed prior to this
Apocalyptic event.

The one that wouldn't be occurring for another two centuries.

Absently retrieving some blood from the fridge, Angel sighed.
This was all two complicated.

"Toss a bag this way, Angel?" Spike's voice drifted over from
the next room.

Angel retrieved a second bag and lobbed it over before
gathering himself together again and dragging the nearest
chair a little closer to the sofa, then straddling it so that he was
facing Spike.

The vampire on the sofa hadn't bothered to sit up as he
drained the bag, his eyes still closed, the small scowl on his
features the only indication of his feelings regarding the
method of his feeding.

Angel waited until they were both done before attempting his
question. Willfully pushing all doubts and concerns regarding
his childe from his mind, he stared intently at the seemingly
peaceful face in front of him.

"I need to know exactly how I lost my soul." he requested
watching as Spike's eyes opened and found his. He hesitated
only a moment before adding his own guess. "It-it was Buffy...
wasn't it."

Spike's gaze hardened slightly though his features remained in
their human form. "Well, give the dog a bone." the blonde
intoned, his voice carefully controlled.

Angel clenched his jaw and looked away, silently cursing every
last gypsy in every language he could think of. It wasn't fair.
He loved Buffy more than he knew was possible, she had,
literally, brought him out of the shadows, out from the mouth of
despair - she had shone her light of love into the farthest
reaches of his soul and turned him into someone far better
than he had ever been, even as a mortal.

She could give him peace, she could give him comfort, she
could give him that utter calm and contentment - silence every
voice that played itself over and over again in his mind, the
pleas for mercy, the cries of pain, the fading whispers of the
dying. She could drive from him every face that haunted his
memories, every look of terror and fear, every tear-stained face
of every helpless and innocent victim he had heartlessly
preyed upon.

She knew full well what exactly he was - had inklings on what
he had been and done - but if only during those brief moments
they were together, in her eyes, in her arms, he wasn't a
demon anymore, he wasn't a vampire with a soul, he was a
man.

It was a lie, but it was a lie that had given him the strength to
finally make his stand. No longer was he the ostracized childe
of Darla; no, now he was someone that had the ability, the
knowledge, the *heart* to make up for the years he'd spent
killing, to make a difference, however small, and find his
redemption before he wound up a smattering of wind-blown
dust.

"How can we stop the Judge?" Angel heard himself asking,
breaking the short spell of silence that had descended between
them, and trying to distract his thoughts from his first question.
Looking up, he found it somewhat unnerving to realize that
Spike was still staring at him.

The Judge, Angel rebuked himself harshly, he needed to
concentrate on the Judge and worry about his future with Buffy
later - after all, there was still hope. If Jenny knew anything
about any of this... well, he and Buffy had already agreed to
talk to the computer teacher after the Judge had been dealt
with.

Spike shrugged, "I don't know."

Growling, Angel snapped, standing and tossing the chair to the
side in his frustration, "Damnit Spike, we don't have time for
this!" he shouted angrily. He'd been patient with Spike, he'd
been supportive - sometimes against his better judgement - of
the soulless vampire who was still laying comfortably across
from him. Spike had already admitted to having remembered
everything, now was *not* the time to get evasive!

"Look," Angel tried again, glaring furiously at Spike's curiously
raised eyebrow from the recent loss of temper. "-if you don't
want to talk about whatever it was that happened between *us*,
fine. But if you're withholding something about the Judge..."
closing the distance between them, Angel grabbed the blonde
vampire by the shoulders and hoisted him up to a sitting
position.

"You'll do what, exactly?" Spike snarled, his face suddenly
contorting back into his vampiric visage as Angel's finger's dug
into his shoulders.

Angel was flat on his back on the floor before he knew what
had happened, Spike's hand clamped tightly around his throat.
The sheer surprise of the sudden reversal of positions drove
the momentary burst of tension induced anger from him, and it
was only then that Angel even realized that his own face had
morphed as well.

Forcing his demon back, Angel fought every instinct to fight
back and relaxed his tense, battle-ready muscles, examining
instead the angry, amber eyes of a childe he no longer knew.

It was all there in Spike's eyes... something that Angel hadn't
noticed before, not until now.

They were the same eyes that had glazed over and lost focus
that fateful night the mortal William had died. They were the
same eyes that had once looked up to him with worship and
admiration. They were the same eyes that had more recently
looked down upon him with disgust and disdain.

But the demon staring at him through those eyes right now, the
demon that had been staying with him these past few weeks,
was not the same. It was older. Much older. It was darker. It
was stronger.

"I don't know how your precious Slayer offed the Judge." Spike
offered with an eerie calm, his grip lessening enough that
Angel managed to free his neck and push himself up to his
elbows. "I wasn't there when it happened, and when you and
Dru got back, you were cursing everything from the Slayer to
America's bloody Armed Forces." Spike sat back finally,
allowing Angel to sit up fully. "Dru wasn't much better. I tuned
most of it out back then, and you never talked about it again
later."

The words sunk in slowly as Spike got to his feet and turned
away, reaching for the clean shirt Angel had left for him the
previous night. A thousand new questions fluttered through
Angel's mind though, starting with why Spike hadn't been there
when Angelus evidently had, and ending with when Spike had
gained such an uncharacteristic amount of control and
restraint.

There had never been any real danger, no matter how the
recent scuffle may have appeared on the outside. Again, it had
been there in Spike's eyes: the initial outburst of energy, the
sudden blow that had sent Angel sprawling to the ground, may
have been more instinctive than refined, but there was
absolutely no doubt in Angel's mind that Spike had been in
complete control of himself after that.

Things, Angel realized warily, had changed between them at
some point between last night and this morning... and he
strongly suspected that 'thing' to be the complete return of
Spike's memories.

...Which meant that everything that had been said and done
before last night may have also changed. Namely, the
promises made not to harm Buffy and her friends... or any other
mortal.

Spike may be determined not to see the world end, but with two
hundred years standing between him and the time of the event
he had come back to stop, who was to say he had any desire
to keep himself in line until then?

"Spike," Angel began, studying the blonde vampire carefully, it
was the inscrutable, but very human, mask that turned to face
him, Angel noted, taking Spike's reversion to his human
features to be a good sign, "-we need to talk."

~~~~~

'It is not justice we serve. It is vengeance.'

The words rang hollowly through Jenny's mind as she
continued her drive back to the school.

'You are a fool.' she had replied before departing, 'We're all
fools.'

...And how foolish they had been indeed: fools all-round. For
the death of one girl, beloved and precious though she may
have been, a demon had been contained for eighty years, only
to threaten the life... and *heart*... of yet another girl.

They had known that the spell would not last forever... her
ancestors had *known* that the demon could very possibly be
unleashed once again. They hadn't cared though... it hadn't
mattered to them at all at the time. Now countless others may
well pay the price for that selfishness.

This was not justice at all... and justice is what it *should* have
been.

Vengeance on the other hand, as her people may very
painfully come to learn, was a path that usually ended with the
destruction of both parties involved. Blood begot blood, pain
begot pain... this, what had been done eighty years ago and
what she was supposed to ensure continued to be, was *not*
right.

It was not *just*, her mind provided for her uselessly. But then,
it was not justice she had been asked to serve. It had been
vengeance.

Exhaling loudly as she forced the evening's meeting with her
uncle from the forefront of her thoughts, she focussed herself
on the problem at hand: the Judge. She hadn't had much luck
with her own searches for possible weaknesses, she could only
hope that Giles and his young charges had fared better.

She could only hope that if Angelus' return was as close as her
uncle had warned, it would at least wait until this crises was
over.

Would Buffy even be able to handle such a threat? Would any
of the young people? They all considered Angel a friend... a
vampire, yes, but one they had come to learn to trust, some
more reluctantly than others.

Buffy was strong, Jenny knew that much, but it was difficult to
ascertain what effects losing Angel might have on her...
especially if she lost *her* Angel only to find herself forced to
confront the demon who wore her Angel's face.

'She will have to kill him.' her uncle had stated plainly.

As if things were so simple.

Buffy... and Angel... she had tried to keep them apart, she truly
had... she'd seen their wholehearted love for one another
though. It was only a matter of time before the souled vampire
discarded what remained of his inner fears, insecurities and
hesitation - it was only a matter of time before the pain within,
that which had already lessened, dissolved completely and the
demon was freed.

Sighing, Jenny realized, that no matter how hard she tried, she
would not be able to tear a love as strong as theirs apart... no
more apparently, than she could keep her thoughts from those
two.

It had helped, she supposed that she hadn't seen much of
Buffy at all today... a small frown played across her lips; she'd
seen Buffy far less today than usual. In fact she'd seen far less
of all the slayerettes today than usual. Especially given the
enormity of the threat the Judge posed. Even Willow and Giles
had seemed to avoid her... shaking her head, she tried pushing
her unease away. She was just being paranoid, given her own
guilt-stricken conscience at having to keep so much from them.

It was probably just coincidence that the youngsters had been
leaving the library every time she had walked in... and that
Giles had seemed unusually absorbed with other students and
his own researching and books than normal. None of them
had reason, after all, to avoid her... or suspect anything amiss
from her. As her own uncle had pointed out, she had become
so immersed in her role as Jenny Calendar, she had, only on
rare occasion acknowledged her true heritage and name.

The highschool came into sight and Jenny parked, watching
two dark-clad figures disappear around the far side of the
building as she exited her car. Angel and Spike no doubt.

Spike. Now there was something else that had thrown
everything off. Would that childe of Angelus come to play a
part in determining the outcome of the soul's stay in Angel's
body?

...And how was it that this soulless creature could possibly care
one way or the other over what the fate of the world was to be?
What if Angel's contentment finally came with the knowledge
that he'd regained, redeemed even, a part of his 'family'? Or
worse... what if somehow this Spike, from the future, knew of
the curse? Gaining Angel's confidence could then be a ruse -
a way of getting close enough to subsequently figure out just
how exactly to send the soul away.

Closing her eyes, Jenny collected herself and strode
determinately towards the doors. There were too many
possible ways to lose Angel right now... her people should
have just cursed Angelus with a permanent soul, it probably
wasn't beyond them... what they had done instead was simply
stupid, short-sighted... vengeful.

But then, it was not justice that they were serving. It was
vengeance.

~~~~~

Willow jumped backwards, startled, as Buffy opened the door
to the washroom and stepped in just as she was reaching for
the doorknob herself.

"Oh! Hi." Willow gasped, silently cursing the town for making
her so jumpy.

Buffy grinned back. "Willow, just the person I was looking for."
she remarked just a little too casually, stepping to the side to
block Willow's attempt at leaving.

"Um, for research, right?" Willow guessed hopefully, not overly
sure that she was liking the sly grin on her friend's face. Her
emotional pain at having seen Xander kissing Cordelia earlier
was momentarily forgotten as she realized with relief that Buffy
seemed a little less tense now that she wasn't actively trying to
avoid a certain computer teacher, for fear of prematurely losing
her temper.

Buffy shook her head, "With all the Judge-stressing and Ms
Calendar-avoidance, I never got a chance to ask you what the
deal was today."

Okay, at least Willow could honestly say she was confused
over that one. "Deal? What deal?" the red-head asked, her
mind obviously not making whatever connection Buffy seemed
to by trying to get at.

"The new 'guy' deal." Buffy clarified, her eyes sparkling. "I
mean, the happy-faced, floating-on-air Willow today wasn't
quite matching the Xander-spying, Xander-obsessed Willow
that I usually see. So, it's another guy, isn't it?"

Willow swallowed, her cheeks warming as she tried thinking of
some other excuse for whatever excessive residual Spike-
happies she'd been exuding. Her normally very active mind
was stubbornly falling silent on her though.

"If it makes you feel better, I think he likes you too." Buffy
offered, when Willow couldn't find her voice quickly enough to
deny the blond's observance.

"Y-you know?" Willow squeaked... then again, she supposed
that being found at Angel's the other day lying across from
Spike had probably been the first obvious clue. Idly, she
wondered how Xander would feel if he caught her kissing
Spike - it'd serve him right too if she did. Kiss Spike that was.
Spike was probably a better kisser than Xander anyways...

Buffy looked at her with amusement, "I took a wild guess, but it
wasn't hard to figure it out... I've seen him looking before."

Willow could feel herself blushing again, even as her lips
curled into a happy smile... Spike had been looking? At her?
"You mean, you're not... upset, over the whole 'new guy'
thing?" Willow asked with surprise. There hadn't seemed to be
any anger, annoyance or even worry in Buffy's voice... which
was a far cry from the ominous and dark warnings her friend
had been doling out the previous night before she'd trekked
over to Angel's apartment.

"Upset?" Buffy snorted incredulously, "Why would I be upset,
it's not like he's all demony or anything." her face took on a
thoughtful look, "I meant in the *evil*, *soulless* way." she
quickly amended, obviously thinking of her own boyfriend.

Willow frowned slightly... Spike technically was demony in the
evil, soulless way, wasn't he? Okay, so he wasn't killing at the
moment, but that didn't really make him entirely 'good' either...

"Oh well. You guys look good together..." Buffy was continuing
on, "-and if you ask me, the fact that Oz can see what Xander
can't, makes him all the better."

Willow's frown deepened. Oz? How did they just jump from
Spike to Oz?

"Hey Wills, you still in there?" Buffy asked, leaning forward and
waving a hand in front of Willow's face. "If you want to keep it
secret or something, believe me; the lips are sealed." With
that, she mimicked zipping her lips, winked, and smiled
mischievously.

"Heh. Yeah. Thanks." Willow mumbled, taking that opportunity
to scoot around the blond Slayer and escape into the hall.

Buffy thought she'd been eying Oz? *Oz* had been looking at
her?

"Will!"

Willow silently groaned. Great, just the person she did *not*
want to be dealing with right now. Hugging herself, she
reluctantly turned to face the all too familiar figure coming
towards her.

"Hey." she offered blandly, trying to find it within her to be the
mature one here.

"Where'd you go?" Xander asked. He did, she noticed, have
the decency to at least look a little uncomfortable. Good.

"Home." she answered bluntly, silently hoping the cold
shoulder might add to his discomfort.

"I'm glad you came back. We can't do this without you." he
continued, the reminder of why exactly he was glad - the
*research* - numbing her further. If it was just that he hadn't
been interested in her, she could probably get over it... but
*Cordelia*? They had always hated Cordelia - *he* had always
hated Cordelia - was he really so shallow that a pretty face and
shapely figure drove away the years of torment and mocking
they had suffered from the wealthy, stuck-up, brunette's big
mouth... yuck... no mouth - not thinking about the mouth...

Giving herself a mental slap, Willow drew on a reservoir of
inner strength she hadn't even known she'd possessed, "Let's
get this straight," she began, collecting herself, and trying to
push the painful image of Xander holding and kissing Cordelia
from her mind, "-I don't understand it - I don't want to
understand it... you have gross emotional problems, and things
are not okay between us. But what's happening right now is
more important than that." There. That had been more mature
than running back into the safety of the girls bathroom - which
had been all too tempting to do. ...Or running to find Spike and
kissing the lips off of him...

"Okay." Xander broke through her thoughts. Willow silently
groaned, all this Spike-lusting had to be Xander's fault. If it
weren't for him, she wouldn't be wondering what kissing Spike
would be like.

... That is, she wouldn't be wondering it as often as she was
now.

"What about the Judge?" Willow quickly changed the subject.
Maturity, she reminded herself, she needed to be mature
here... that meant no Xander-thoughts, and *definitely* no
Spike-thoughts. "Where do we stand?"

"On a pile of really boring books that say exactly the same
thing." came her tired and sarcastic reply.
 

~Part: Seven~

Buffy listened with half an ear as Xander skirted around the
details of his supposed plan to stop the Judge. Her attention
was currently divided between Willow, who was alternatively
glaring surreptitiously between Xander and Cordelia, and the
two vampires sitting off to the side; Spike, who was sitting
down on the stairs leading to the upper level, and Angel, who
was standing, leaning against the rail beside Spike.

With Willow the problem was fairly obvious; she was more than
likely still resenting the fact that Xander still couldn't seem to
acknowledge her as anything other than a buddy. Although,
from the way Willow had been smiling earlier that day, it had
seemed as though Xander had been the furthest thing on her
mind. Something must have happened since then... she'd
have to try to talk to Willow again. After all, when she'd
bumped into her friend in the bathroom, she'd been so
focussed on finding out if Oz was the reason for the smiles,
she hadn't even considered the possibility that something else
may have been bothering Willow by then too.

She'd correct that mistake as soon as she got the chance.

With Spike and Angel though, she was a little more uncertain.
There seemed to be a little more tension between them than
usual... she could only guess that it had something to do with
the events from the previous night.

A twinge of jealousy passed through her as she watched Angel
send yet another glance towards the bleach-blonde vampire...
almost as if he were reassuring himself that Spike was still
there. Great. It had been bad enough when she'd been
jealous of Drusilla, and Angel's apparent need to see her...
now she was jealous of Spike. Of course it would have been
easier to deal with if Angel had glanced over in *her* direction
just once.

Spike, for his part, was either ignoring Angel, or honestly so
incredibly bored with the gathering that chipping his black nail
polish off seemed to be of greater interest than stopping the
Judge.

Yet, unlike the first night he'd sat in on one of their meetings,
she could tell that he was actually paying attention this time.
His eyes only occasionally left his fingers, but when she
studied him carefully, she could see the attentiveness there.
With just a glance, he seemed to absorb every detail that was
said - maybe even every detail that had been left unsaid.

He was just trying to ignore Angel then?

Maybe she could ask Angel about it later... it'd be a good
excuse to talk to him anyways. They'd barely spoken a word to
each other since deciding to hold off talking to Ms Calendar
until after the Judge was dealt with... and that had been right
before they'd entered the warehouse last night.

If she didn't know him better, she might think he'd been trying
to avoid her. Her heart twisted with hurt; more than any other
time, they needed each other now... there was no way she was
going to let the demon inside Angel win... there was no way
she was going to lose her boyfriend.

"... tomorrow, Buffy?"

Shaking her head, she brought her attention back to the
meeting. "Tomorrow?... um, yes?" she answered automatically.

Giles nodded, "Very well then, Willow, you talk to Oz, then the
two of you can meet with Xander and Cordelia and make your
final arrangements." Looking over at vampires, Giles
addressed them next, "If you would meet us back here when
you're both... able... we'll discuss when and how to make our
offensive." Turning to Buffy and Jenny he smiled ruefully, "We
will continue to research, just in case we manage to come
across anything of use before the others return."

Buffy groaned aloud, how did she manage to get herself stuck
with research, when it sounded like Xander and Willow were
going out to do something much more interesting? Just in case
that point had already been covered while she'd been busy
staring at Angel, she kept her complaints to herself. Served
her right for not paying attention, she supposed bitterly.

"Right." Xander agreed, getting to his feet and sparing only a
quick glance towards Willow before focussing on Cordelia.
"We'll meet at Willow's house then. Don't be late."

At the barely contained anger and hurt Buffy could see in
Willow's eyes, she realized instinctively that somehow Cordelia
fit into this whole Xander-Willow mess too. How exactly that
was, she had no clue, Xander and Cordelia hated each other...
that much was obvious to anyone, but there was definitely
something going on there...

Spike meanwhile had stood and was making his way over to
Willow, drawing Buffy's attention away from the now bickering
Xander and Cordelia. Quickly but with a casual ease, the
blonde vampire spun an unsuspecting Willow around in his
arms to face him, "How about I walk you home, hmmm? Be a
proper gentleman and thank you for last night?" he suggested
loudly enough to be heard over Xander and Cordelia's
argument.

Although from Xander's angle, it must have looked like Spike
then bent down to kiss Willow, from Buffy's angle she could
see a knowing smirk on the vampire's lips as well as the
stunned surprise, embarrassment and sudden gratitude on
Willow's face. The whole room watched in shock and
confusion as Willow collected herself, turned around and
smiled coyly.

"Thank you Spike." she accepted, relaxing comfortably against
him and doing absolutely nothing about the arm he had
wrapped snuggly around her waist as he led her to the doors.

"Last night?" Xander choked out his eyes bulging at the sight of
the two departing figures, "What happened la..."

"Meet up with you at the apartment, Angel." Spike tossed over
his shoulder, cutting Xander off.

For one long, tense moment no one moved a muscle or said a
word as the sudden couple took their leave, then finally Angel
shook his head and started to make his own exit. Deciding that
that meant Angel still trusted Spike, Buffy quickly caught up
with her boyfriend, ignoring the others in the room as Xander
turned to Giles and demanded to know what it was that had
happened 'last night'.

Despite her slight unease at the events she'd just witnessed,
Buffy was beginning to see Willow's plan... assuming of course
that Willow had planned that exit... because falling into Spike's
arms had definitely gotten Xander's attention - and then some.

She walked out of the highschool with Angel in a somewhat
tense silence, unsure of what to say, or if there even was
anything for her to say, then finally laid her hand on his arm to
stop him.

"So, how's it going with Spike?" she asked, for lack of any
better way to start some kind of conversation, "He's not gonna
go all growly on Willow, right?" She forced a light chuckle out
with those words, hoping to hide her inner fears. Angel
wouldn't have let Spike leave with Willow like that if her friend's
life were in any danger, or so she tried telling herself firmly.

"No." Angel confirmed, "He..." looking away, Angel sighed, "He
got his memories back last night... I don't think he likes me
much anymore... but we talked... he won't hurt anyone. Mortal.
For now."

Buffy couldn't stop her giggle as she reached out and hugged
the dark-haired vampire in front of her.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You don't think he likes you much anymore?" Buffy repeated,
her earlier feelings of unease dissolving with his words and the
strong arms he wrapped around her. "You sound like someone
that just got dumped by your..." she hesitated, unable to say
'girlfriend' but unable to really say 'boyfriend' either.

Angel relented with a small chuckle of understanding, "I guess I
do, don't I?" Releasing her and stepping away he resumed
walking. "I just meant... we were almost getting along before."
Angel shrugged as they continued down the street - towards
her house, Buffy noticed. "Guess we don't get along in his
future."

With his hands shoved deep into his pockets, Buffy was left to
loop her arm through his as they continued walking, enjoying
their closeness, this time the silence between them was far
more comfortable. Still, there was something bothering him,
something that went beyond whatever new turn his relationship
with Spike had taken.

Arriving at her house, Buffy looked up at him, ready to invite
him in for a few minutes, but he planted a quick kiss on her
forehead before she could even open her mouth.

"Good night Buffy." he bid her quietly, taking a few steps back,
"See you tomorrow."

Trying to tell herself that he wasn't actually trying to get away
from her she watched him start off, then called out tentatively,
"I love you." forcing her insecurities to bay.

He stopped and met her gaze. Even before she heard the
words, she could see his love for her in his eyes. "I love you
too, Buffy. I'll *always* love you." There was a brief, heart-
breaking pain that passed through his eyes for just a moment
before he covered it over, and turned away.

Buffy opened her mouth to call him back, to ask him what was
wrong, to just hold him and let him know that he wasn't alone
anymore - that she would always be there for him... but nothing
came out.

He quietly disappeared into the shadows as she continued to
stand there in her front yard. Confusion filled her as she
replayed their parting just now over and over again... Angel
had looked at her with such fierce and desperate love and
devotion, but the pain that she'd seen there too, if only for a
moment... had Spike told Angel something about her future -
about *their* future?

But even if he had, what could possibly be worse than Angel
losing his soul? ...Would she die... would one of them die...
maybe at the hands of the Judge before this was all over and
done with?

She wasn't overly worried about Angel's soul anymore
exactly... the more she thought about it, if it was a perfect,
*pure* happiness he had to avoid, well, as cruel as it sounded,
he did have a whole mess load of not so nice memories to
keep him broody.

Sighing, she slipped into the house and tip-toed up to her
room. Reaching for her phone immediately, she dialled
Willow's number. She didn't mind putting Spike on the 'not to
kill' list for the moment - but it didn't hurt to be too careful...
especially with things no longer going quite as smoothly
between the blonde vampire and his sire.

The possibility hadn't escaped her, as she and Angel had
walked home, that just maybe Angel was only seeing the Spike
he wanted to see.

"Hello?" Willow's voice answered breathlessly after several
rings, driving that last lingering fear from Buffy. A low, male
voice said something in the background as Buffy greeted her
friend, then Willow's muffled voice seemed to say 'Buffy'.

"I just wanted to make sure Spike kept his fangs to himself."
Buffy rushed quickly, not wanting to keep her friend on the
phone too much longer since it sounded like the red-head's
father was saying something again in the background.

"Yep, he was a perfect gentleman." Willow quickly reassured
her.

"Good." Buffy nodded, glancing at her clock and realizing that it
really was pretty late, "I'll let ya go then, night Will."

"Thanks for checking, night Buffy!" Willow's chipper voice
returned before hanging up.

Staring at the phone for a moment, Buffy shook her head. One
minute Willow was floating on air with a dreamy look in her
eyes, then suddenly she's all sour and jealous - glaring
daggers at Xander and Cordelia - now she's all bright and
chipper again.

Sighing Buffy flopped down tiredly on her bed. So tired was
she in fact that she forgot completely that Willow's parents
were still out of town, so it couldn't have been Willow's father
talking to her on the other end of the phone.

~~~~~

It wasn't until the highschool was out of sight that Willow finally
pulled herself out of Spike's arms, burying her head in her
hands as she slumped over and stopped. "How could he do
that to me?" she asked no one in particular.

"Flirt with the mouthy bimbo, or invite everyone over to your
place?" Spike queried, shoving his own hands into his pockets
as he took a quick look around for any supernatural nightly
activity.

"Either. Both. Arrrgh!" with her frustrated growl Willow started
walking again, and Spike automatically fell into stride beside
her, glancing over at her with interest as traces of the Willow
he was more familiar with emerged from its shell of passivity.
"He *kissed* her! I saw it, I was right there, they were still in
the Library - he *hates* her, he's always hated her, but he still
kissed her!" Her look of anger dissolved into one of pain as she
continued on, "I mean, does that make me worse than *her*?
Am I so repulsive that he'd rather suck face with someone he
doesn't even like over even *looking* at me?"

Spike remained silent as he watched the pain refocus itself
back into anger, "-and, and bad enough that he wants to make
out with *her* - but then he just goes and invites her over to my
house! *My* house! Does he even ask me first? Does he even
care? It was his stupid plan, why couldn't we just use *his*
house?! Now I'm gonna get Cordelia germs all over the
place... all kinds of dirty, nasty little bacteria from her 'too rich
for *your* blood' designer clothes, and 'this is *real* gold'
jewellery." Again her anger began fading as she made a face of
disgust instead. "If Xander wants to share germs with her,
fine... but he had no business dragging me, or my innocent
house, into any of this." Now she was annoyed, "Bad enough
we have to worry about demons and vampires and the boogie
man - now I have to worry about..."

If Spike were nicer, or had a soul, or even just plain suspected
that she'd stake him, he would have bitten his tongue. Having
none of those impediments though, he instead found himself
merely trying to tone down his all out laughter to a somewhat
quieter chuckle.

His efforts went unappreciated though as Willow stopped
walking and glared at him. "Sure, easy for you to laugh... you
don't have problems involving your best friend liking his
childhood enemy over you." she huffed, arms crossed.

Oh, this was definitely more like the Willow he remembered.

"You'd be surprised." he shrugged, regretting the words the
minute they spilt from his lips. Hoping to distract her he
motioned for them to get moving again.

"Fine, share." Willow ordered relentlessly as she continued
walking, "Misery is supposed to like company, and hello world,
my name is officially Misery." she cast a wary sideways look at
him after a quick moment of thought, "But, uh, if it's gonna end
with lots of blood and death, we can skip that part."

Keeping his gaze straight ahead, Spike held his tongue, not
really wanting to tread through the most vibrant memory that
came to mind. Several flashes of a Buffy-obsessed Angel, a
Buffy-obsessed Angelus, and another Buffy-obsessed Angel
flitted through his mind unpleasantly. If it hadn't been for Buffy
way back when...

"See, demons don't have these problems." Willow decided,
taking his silence as his answer, "Of course, demons probably
don't really have friends... or childhood enemies." She
amended.

She fell silent for a while, and Spike could literally feel the pent
up emotions gradually dissipating, and when she looked over
at him again, it was the shy, quiet Willow that tentatively asked,
"Why did you... you know... for me... at the Library?"

Safe ground. They were back on safe ground...

Shrugging, Spike offered her a small smirk, "A blind man
could see that you wanted to get under Xander's skin but didn't
know how. Angel wouldn't've had the stones to step in if you
handed him a written request, Rupert there doesn't like seeing
things unless he absolutely has too, and I'm still a demon that
likes to get his jollies by disrupting the peace among other
things... Besides, Buffy looked like she was starting to see
what was going on, so I figured chances of being stopped by
her were slim to none."

"Well, thanks..." trailing off, Willow groaned suddenly, then
sighed, "...now I'm gonna have Xander watching me like a
hawk all day tomorrow and putting me on the hot seat for
walking out with you like we were..." despite the darkness,
Spike could still sense her flush.

Grabbing her hand he quickly spun her into his arms and
leered down at her with amusement, "Like we were a smashing
couple heading back to your place so I could give you a very
thorough, very physical, 'thanks for last night'?" he couldn't
resist supplying for her, dropping his voice to a more husky
and seductive tone.

She swallowed nervously, a faint hint of her sweet arousal
beginning to drift up to his nostrils, her heart pounding so hard
and fast it nearly drowned out the other nightly sounds
completely.

He took a small bit of satisfaction in the knowledge that he'd
managed to work her up that well - how easy would it be now to
worm his way into her confidence - into her trust - into her
bed...

He'd played this game with countless females before, saving
the revelation of his true nature until he'd gotten them right
where he'd wanted them: deliciously spread out before him
unafraid and confident in his devotion to them, so utterly
trusting and wanting... content, satisfied and sated... he'd strike
when they least expected it - unleash his demon and his pent
up fury. Those females, he had never actually mutilated
though - the pleasure to be gained from them, lay solely in the
harsh betrayal he would drink from their eyes... the second
before he drained them of every last drop of blood.

Whether he'd been exacting his revenge on Drusilla and
Willow's betrayals, or whether he'd been proving to himself that
he could be just as hard and cold, he couldn't really say.
Maybe he'd just wanted some variety in his methods of
satisfying his various lusts.

Whatever the reasons had been, it no longer really matter,
because that wouldn't be Willow's fate... not any time in the
immediate future anyways. He'd given his word not to harm a
mortal while he remained in Sunnydale. Besides that, Willow
was also too close... with her, any such game would become
far too personal.

"...I think I was gonna say, 'like we were boyfriend and
girlfriend'." Willow finally managed to correct him, quickly
averting her eyes as he released his hold on her.

"Same thing." Spike shrugged, letting the moment slide, as
Willow's house came into sight.

"Not all boyfriends and girlfriends do... those things." Willow
protested as they approached the door.

"They do when I'm the boyfriend." Spike commented with a
half-grin, watching as her pale cheeks reddened beautifully in
the moonlight once again.

That was definitely something his vampire Willow didn't do:
blush.

He tilted his head as they approached the door, his ears
picking up a faint ringing coming from inside. "Might want to
hurry it up there - sounds like someone's decided to call."

He stood by the door as Willow quickly rushed in and picked
up the nearest phone. "Probably Xander - being the good
friend that he is - making sure you're not a dead corpse... or
writhing in the throes of passion." he guessed with a smirk,
leaning against the doorframe just on the outside of the
invisible barrier keeping him from entering.

"It's Buffy." Willow whispered back after saying hello and
covering the mouthpiece with her hand.

"Then she probably just wants to make sure you're still
breathing." Spike reasoned, more to himself than the redhead,
fairly certain that Buffy had seen what he'd been up to earlier
when he'd left with Willow.

Willow smiled as she made some comment about 'him' being a
perfect gentleman, confirming his guess. She hung up soon
afterwards and returned to the door, her smile faltering slightly
as she looked at him from the other side of the threshold.

"I'd inv..."

"Don't." Spike stopped her, dropping the half-hearted humour
he'd been entertaining earlier. "I didn't promise to never come
after you... any of you... so don't trust me that much."

She bit her lip, looked down, but nodded. "Thanks for walking
me home then." she offered instead. A small, slightly sad smile
touched her lips then as she moved to close the door, "-and
thanks for the ego-saveage too."

At that even he had to smirk, "*That* was a real pleasure." he
admitted, still pleased at the look of shock and distress on
Xander's face. It had been too long since he'd had a chance to
really do anything underhanded... and to see this night's act as
such an accomplishment spoke volumes of that. But in the
future... in *his* future - those last few years before the journey
through time in particular - he had spent far more time helping
and saving human lives, than he had ruining and destroying
them.

It was times such as these, he realized as he begun his trek to
Angel's apartment, those times he'd get the tiniest flavour of
the damage he could really do, that he found himself missing
those earlier carefree days he'd had... the years he'd spent just
yielding himself completely to every one of his darker whims.
The years during which he'd had no need to carefully
contemplate what consequences every one of his actions might
potentially have.

It wasn't until he was halfway back to Angel's place that he
even realized the flip side of what it was he'd just done tonight
when he'd whisked Willow out of the school with him: he'd let
her use him. Again. Only this time he'd walked right into it with
his eyes wide open.

Hardening himself against those tiny tendrils of doubt and hurt,
he took comfort in the knowledge that this time around he
couldn't possibly fall into the same trap, because this time
around he didn't love her. This time around he didn't need her.
This time around she *couldn't* hurt him.

He'd spent his last one hundred and seventy some odd years
learning how to thrive on his own: no partners, no minions, no
lovers, no allies - so no, this time around things were different.
This time around he really could be a lone wolf, because this
time around he knew how.

And he liked it.
 

~Part: Eight~

Willow frowned as Angel came into sight, Spike no where to be
seen at all. If anyone else noticed or cared, they didn't say
anything... except maybe Buffy, who had gone over to greet
Angel and was quietly discussing something with him.

Although she didn't really want to have to admit to herself, she
was, she supposed, a little disappointed. Just for a few
minutes that previous night, she had really found herself
enjoying the company of the stoic blonde vampire... well, after
her little outburst of frustration anyways. Speaking of which,
who'd have ever thought that Spike would be the one who'd
pick up on her frustrations and then act on them?

She'd had no idea he could sound so incredibly seductive
either... the way he'd made her feel with just a few words, a
look, and his body... coming from someone from whom she was
used to hearing threats of bodily harm and death - coming from
someone whose look, however seductive and wanting, had
also held such a hollowing emptiness, she'd wondered later which
Spike was the real Spike.

Was he the sociopathic vampire who had terrorized the gang
earlier this year? Was he the devoted lover who'd dedicated
every action and waking moment to his female? Was he just
another soulless demon whose humanity had lingered a little
too long for a while before freeing him completely to indulge in
his full, and darker, potential?

Whatever he was, the only thing she knew for sure at the
moment was that the same vampire who had once been able to
feel and love so completely and entirely was now suddenly as
empty inside as any other vampire. If she could only figure out
how to help him find whatever humanity it was that he'd had
left, she was certain that he'd be less reluctant to help them all
out - after all, so long as he had the *ability* to care, he might
eventually find the *inclination* to do so - he might eventually
be able to care for them, the Scoobies. He might eventually
begin to care about her.

It was dumb, she knew it was, it was selfish and probably very
deadly too, but everyone seemed to have someone; Buffy had
Angel, Xander had... well, he had some*thing*, even Giles
seemed to be getting friendly with Ms Calendar... Where did
that leave her?

"Everyone is here?" Giles spoke up, glancing questioningly in
Angel's direction, his eyes silently seeking confirmation that
Spike would not be joining them. At Angel's silent nod, Giles
turned back to face them all, cleared his throat, then explained,
with some interjections from Xander, what the big plan was for
taking down the Judge.

Willow listened carefully, dutifully keeping her gaze from either
Xander or Cordelia, and dutifully keeping her thoughts from
Spike. They had to deal with the Judge, she could deal with
her Xander feelings and her Spike feelings later.

~~~~~

'She was already dead - everyone here is already dead, with
the exception of the two of us - you just don't know it yet.'

It wasn't exactly something that had never occurred to Angel,
but to have it voiced and shoved in his face like that... maybe
he shouldn't have pressed so hard about Spike killing Dru the
way he had.

Angel couldn't even recall fully what exactly it had been he'd
been hoping to find when he'd brought Dru up again earlier
that day; some kind of remorse? some small hint of loss?
Some small surge of emotion, if nothing else.

As it turned out, Angel *had* finally managed to invoke a spark
of emotion: anger. Again.

That seemed to be about the only emotion Spike had released
since the return of his memories... the only emotion he'd shown
to Angel anyways. With the others, with Buffy, Willow,
everyone else, there was nothing... well, that wasn't entirely
true - with Willow there was something - not an emotion perse,
but *something* nonetheless; interest. Not a wanting or lustful
interest, more of a curious one - as if he'd never met the young
girl before - something Angel had in turn found rather curious,
because Spike had already revealed that of the entire slaying
group, Willow was the only one he'd followed up on in the
future.

Was that why Angel had not tried stopping or discouraging
Willow from her visits? Why he'd found himself constantly
reassuring Buffy that Willow would be fine, despite his own
small doubts? Did he really think Willow could somehow
excavate those other emotions Spike had buried so deeply?
Was it right for him to silently hope that from her... just so he
could somehow find his childe once again?

Was it even possible for him to get his Spike, his childe, his
partner, back?

'...everyone here is already dead...'

"Hey." Buffy greeted, moving towards him as he entered the
library. Angel gave her a small grin. Buffy was already dead...
not even ten years from now... ten short years...

"Your worse half isn't joining us tonight?" Buffy asked, with only
a quick glance behind him.

"No... he was pretty adamant about not being a 'White-Hat'."
Angel offered, his eyes briefly taking in the others gathered in
the room. They were all dead because they were all mortal...
mortals died, whereas he - barring exposure to sunlight,
decapitation, staking, holy water, and those other few
potentially lethal elements, was immortal - he could be around
forever.

Buffy raised an eyebrow, "But coming with us to attack the
Judge the other night was ok for him?"

Angel brought his attention back to her, "He was, and I quote,
'confused and overwhelmed' that night." How could he ever go
on without her - the only true love he'd ever known?... How
could he ever go on *with* her? With the knowledge that he
could lose his soul just because he let himself get lost in her...
how could he control emotions and feelings that just seemed to
fill him without him even realizing it until he and Buffy finally
parted for the evening?

>From what Spike had told him during some of their calmer and
more social moments, it had been sex with Buffy that had done
him in, in Spike's past. But Angel had known instinctively that
it probably wouldn't even take that much for him to find that
utter contentment with Buffy. It had already begun in part... just
kissing her, holding her, being held by her... no, if it was just
sex that had to be avoided the problem would have been a far
simpler one. But he could easily picture himself just letting go
of his past, forgetting his guilt and remorse, surrendering
himself to the peace and freedom Buffy offered. All it would
take was a touch - a look even. How many times before had
he nearly released himself to the moment?

"Everyone is here?" Giles asked, directing a pointed look
towards him and breaking him out of his thoughts.

Angel nodded silently, focussing determinately on the Watcher
as Buffy quietly slipped her hand into his. He hadn't told her
about her possible role in determining the fate of his soul -
hadn't told anyone... how could he?

'We need to stay away from each other if you want to make
sure I keep my soul.' didn't really seem like the best way to do
it.

"Very well then," Giles began, glancing over at Xander, "-our
research has continued to prove fruitless, so, it appears as
though we have no choice but to follow through on your plan."

Looking eager, Xander motioned Buffy over to the table where
a large box had been placed. "Happy Birthday Buffy, I hope
you like the colour." he smiled wryly, stepping back as Giles
retrieved a crowbar and broke the lock securing the box.

Peering down into the box appreciatively after Giles lifted the
lid off, Buffy eyed the contents. "This is good." she
commented, obviously pleased with whatever it was she saw.

"Do you want me to show you how to use it?" Xander asked,
stepping back to table.

A grim look of determination crossed over Buffy's face. "Yes. I
do." she nodded solemnly.

As Xander reached into the box to pull out what it was housing,
Angel forgot all about his internal debate on whether he should
tell Buffy about the risks of their relationship. If the gang didn't
have an army on hand to call against the Judge, they had
certainly found the next best thing.

~~~~~

It wasn't until he was alone in the apartment that Spike realized
how similar his current situation was to that first time around:
the Slayer and her pack would be headed off to the mall, the
Judge and whatever minions were still with him were headed
for that same mall, and he was sitting by himself.

Left behind - not because of his partial paralysis, but rather
because he'd been so busy trying to get his head back in order
lately that he hadn't really given any thought as to what exactly
it was he was going to do with himself for another two hundred
years. Unfortunately with Angel's eyes constantly on him, it
was hard to do any real thinking.

With Angel's eyes on him, all he could think about was the last
encounter he'd had with his sire prior to the night he'd
prepared himself for the backwards time jump. If nothing else,
he'd realized one thing very quickly: whatever he decided to do
with himself, staying with his sire was most definitely *not* an
option.

Whatever reconciliation Angel might have been seeking just
before completing the spell that had sent Spike to the end of
the twentieth century, it had come nearly two centuries too late.
Far too much had passed between the two vampires for them
to ever find that bond that had once held them nearly
inseparable - the same bond that Spike had once been so sure
would allow them again to find some sort of middle ground
despite Angel's cursed state.

No. He would have to get himself out of this apartment, away
from Angel - soon - tonight even. But what to do with himself
after that?

He'd stuck around with the Slayer and her crew once before,
and could see absolutely no benefits in going a second time
around with them. Aside from being ridiculed and walked all
over by the humans, he'd been hunted down by his fellow
demon back then too, in retaliation for their imagined belief that
he was actually siding with Buffy just because he wasn't killing
her. Never mind that he *couldn't* kill her, no matter how
desperately he may have wanted to.

Of course, he couldn't really see himself falling back into his
pre-2180 habits either, since now he no longer even knew what
repercussions killing might have later on. He couldn't
remember the face of every one of his victims, there was no
way then to be sure that he didn't find himself killing someone
with some kind of pertinent future impact or importance.

He'd already messed things up by dropping out of the scene a
few months too early, preventing - or at least delaying -
Angelus from being freed, and then of course there was the
matter of allowing Dru to be consumed by the Judge...

He'd told Angel earlier that he didn't care because Dru had
already been dead, he'd meant it at the time too, but now... It
wasn't regret he felt for having brought about her death, it was
more of an uncertainty over how that would affect the future
too. She was already dead to him, that much was true, Buffy,
Willow, Xander... they had died long ago... but what he'd failed
to truly consider was the fact that his past was yet their future.

To him, they were long ago decomposed corpses, but here in
1998 they still had years of life ahead of them. Dru had still
had years of existance ahead of her too - decades actually -
what effect would her sudden removal have?

In the long run, it probably didn't really matter... when 2180
rolled around, the Gates of Hell would still be opened...
whatever happened between now and then wouldn't change
that.

...Would it?

Scowling at himself, he realized the best thing for him to do
might just be to leave completely. Get himself out of
Sunnydale and as far away from the so called Scooby gang as
he could - as far away from Willow and Angel as he could.
Heck as far away from *Buffy* as he could. So long as he
stayed as far away from any Slayers, Watchers, or self-
proclaimed demon-hunters, he should be safe.

If he just holed himself up someplace quiet for the next two
centuries, his chances of survival were pretty good - and his
chances of making further alterations to the past he
remembered would be lessened. Then he could just find the
bloody Slayer he'd offed a little to soon, help her make sure
that whatever ritual it was that had unleashed the fires of Hell
was stopped, then... well, then he could either lie down and
cease to exist, or learn to thrive in the hopefully new and
improved future.

...Or then again, it was his active attempts, and successful
butchering, of so many Slayers that had eventually led to the
calling of whatever nameless, faceless girl he had stalked and
attacked in New York. What if laying low had an impact of its
own... resulted in *his* 2180 Slayer never needing to be called,
because a whole bunch of previous Slayers lived that much
longer?

This was getting far too complicated.

Grabbing his duster, Spike let himself out of the apartment and
wandered out of the building, prowling down the streets to burn
off his restlessness and frustrations. He made no attempts to
hide his presence, knowing that most of the vampiric
population would be at the mall right now with the Judge, but
he did nothing that would draw attention to himself either... just
in case.

What was supposed to have been a relatively simple job was
very quickly spiralling out of control. If he let loose and killed
as freely and thoughtlessly as he had in *his* past, he risked
killing different individuals - perhaps individuals that were
meant to have played a bigger role in the grander scheme of
things before dying. On the other hand, if he didn't kill, he
risked not killing the right people that would make his job, when
2180 came, easier.

Reluctantly, he did have to admit that it really didn't matter who
was Slayer by 2180, the important thing was that *he* knew
what to expect, what to look out for, what to stop from
happening. But to willingly and faithfully swear off killing for
two centuries? He'd learned very quickly to control his
bloodlust, especially once the humans suddenly found
themselves an endangered species on their own planet... but
even then, he had still gotten his kills in, he'd still gotten his
violence in. In fact, he'd even got his dose of torture and blood
games in with the odd human now and again, when
collaborators or bond servants - those humans willing to sell
their services and loyalties to demon masters in exchange for
being spared the fate of their fellow man - had been caught
and interrogated by the remnants of the Watcher's Council or
certain sects of the human resistance.

What he would have to do here and now though was swear off
of humans completely. He wasn't sure if even he could handle
that for two hundred years.

Losing all track of time and direction, Spike continued his
aimless wanderings, oblivious to where his feet were taking
him until he looked up and saw Willow coming towards him.

Pursing his lips, he stoped walking and watched her approach,
then finally looked around and realized he'd wandered right
onto her doorstep. This, he had to admit, was interesting.

~~~~~

After cleaning up charred pieces of blue demon from the
mall, Willow was definitely ready to go home, shower, and not
think about demons for the rest of her life. Of course, living on
the Hellmouth drastically reduced the average lifespan of a
person, so 'the rest of her life' might only be another few years
- *if* she was lucky. Add to that the fact that one of her best
friends was the Slayer, and well, that already shortened
lifespan could be shaved down to maybe a few months.

With that cheery thought to keep her company, Willow trudged
down the streets, silently daring any stray demon to try
attacking her. What a sight she must make too, pieces of flesh
tangled in her hair and on her clothes, the most horrible and
nauseating smell she had ever known soaked - with her luck,
permanently - into her clothes and skin... any demon that
wanted to brave through all that nastiness was welcome to her.

When she noticed a shadow moving towards her just before
she reached her house though, she quickly amended that
thought - she didn't want to die, and she didn't want a demon to
attack her, and no demon was welcome to her...

Spike's features slowly melted into sight as he quietly stepped
from the darker shadows and into the dim glow of a streetlamp-
lit area. A part of her relaxed as his identity was revealed, the
other part of her tensed with uncertainty.

"I take it the good guys won?... Again." Spike asked, his tone
indicating that he probably didn't really care but was merely
attempting to make some kind of conversation.

Willow nodded, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and
embarrassed for her current appearance... and smell. Spike
continued advancing towards her though, so finally, to avoid
further embarrassment, Willow began subtly backpedalling
away from him.

Her anxiety must have been washing off her in waves though,
because instead of taking the hint and stopping, Spike quickly
closed the distance between them, eyes flashing amber briefly
before he reached out and held her still, their bodies just barely
touching.

He was doing it again, Willow realized as she tried to focus her
attention anywhere but at him. He was making her feel all
weak-kneed and tingly. To top it all off, there was an almost-
growl rumbling faintly in his throat, and her combined fear and
desire both hiked up another notch. She had never feared
anyone as much as she feared him now, she had never desired
anyone as she desired him right now.

Last night had been but a taste of the passion he promised... of
the danger he promised... she wanted both. It was crazy - it
wasn't like her at all - it was stupid - it was bordering on
suicidal.

...But she had meant something to him once... as conceited as
it sounded, she wanted to know that feeling... she wanted to
know it now, she wanted to know she meant something to
someone... and she wanted it sometime before she died.

She'd tempted fate yet again tonight... she'd cheated death...
but any one of those zapped people could have been her.
There'd been no chance to fight back like there was if any
other demon attacked, no chance of surviving the encounter as
there was with most other demons. One minute someone was
there, running in panicked fear, the next minute 'poof' - they
were dead, gone, no body, no blood, nothing.

Swallowing nervously, she tried to gather her courage and
looked up at him. He wasn't moving a single muscle, but it was
his vampiric visage that was looking down at her. Courage fled
as panic began setting in... there was an undeniable hunger in
Spike's eyes, one she hadn't seen there in several weeks
now... one that told her in no uncertain terms that if she didn't
get out of there immediately, she was dead meat. Dead meat
that might possibly wake up undead...

But how was she going to get away? Muscle for muscle, she
had nothing on Spike, and brains for brains, she knew Spike
was no dummy. One insane, irrational, completely un-Willow-
like option flitted briefly through her mind, and she almost
discarded it immediately, except of course that she had no
other options available to her.

Gathering her courage once again, Willow took a few deep
breaths.

~~~~~

It was taking everything Spike had not to sink his fangs deep
into the young mortal's unprotected throat. Granted, his train
of thought before she had shown up hadn't had him in the most
controlled of moods, but the exquisite mixture of fear and
desire she was unconsciously exuding was driving him insane.

For the sake of his continued existence, he silently hoped
she'd get a hold of herself and calm down... because if she
didn't, he was going to bite - and if he bit her...

Staring up at him intently, she did seem to finally get his silent
message, and he took that moment to grab a better hold of
himself... and his too long denied, raging lusts. Her innocence
called out to him... her utter purity... something else too... it had
been decades for him since he'd last tasted one such as she.

She hadn't inspired a hunger this strong within him anytime
during the past few weeks though. He'd sensed her
nervousness and mild fear of him before, yes, he'd been aware
of the desire he could spark within her, yes, and both had
always pulled at his hunger, yes, but something was different
tonight. Something that was bringing him to the brink of his
control and tempting him with too desirable a prey.

Her hands moved up to his shoulders slowly, almost caressing
with their gentle, uncertain warmth. Spike took that moment to
close his eyes and force his human visage back into place.

It was then that she kissed him.

*His* Willow had always enjoyed kissing. Fangs elongated, he
and his Willow had shared many a rough and bloody kiss,
teasing and nipping lips, tongue and palate as they lustfully
devoured each other.

Dru had liked kissing too, if he recalled correctly. Long, drawn-
out kisses full of passion and promise, or soft, caring caresses,
meant to sooth and comfort.

...And of course, there were the many victims of his deadly
seduction... many a kiss had been shared with them as well;
mystery and intrigue, lust and desire, power and hunger.

This kiss was nothing like any he had ever had though. It was
light, cautious, more of a gentle brush of lips really. His eyes
blinked open immediately, surprise filling him as he searched
out her eyes. What he saw there in those shimmering emerald
orbs, stirred something in that forbidden place within him for
the second time now in only a few days.

Red lights and alarms were going off like mad in his head - she
truly wanted him... that's what had been different about tonight.
Not the way Dru had wanted him... not as a convenience to fill
a void, not even as a protector or partner or lover. Not the way
*his* Willow had wanted him... not as a mentor, a teacher, a
guide, not as a means to sate her lusts, a tool to use then
discard. Not the way his victims had wanted him... not as an
escape from unhappiness, boredom, or the mundane,
unexciting lives they led. Willow wanted him... wanted *him*.

He released his arms from around her, taking a small step
backwards as he forced himself to quell the long forgotten and
discarded... *weaknesses*... that had destroyed him once
before.

"Spike?" Her voice was soft, the want in her eyes dissolving to
concern, "Are you ok?"

Was he ok? Was *he* ok? He'd come within an inch of biting
her... possibly draining her... they both knew it, and she asks if
*he*'s ok? Fine. Truth to tell, no, he was not 'ok'. In fact, he
was farther from 'ok' than he had been when he'd lowered
himself to seeking out the remnants of the Watcher's Council in
a belated effort to restore the world he had loved terrorizing.

"Fine. I'm fine."

He was farther from 'ok' than he had been when he'd staked
Willow after listening to her tell him that she was leaving. He
was farther from 'ok' than he had been when Dru had told him it
was over... after nearly a century of remaining exclusively loyal
to her, he suddenly wasn't demon enough for her.

"You-you're, um, in control again?"

He nodded silently. He had, however, been worse - but better
not to think about that. Right now he just needed to leave.

With only one last glance at her, at Willow, at the Willow that
he'd foolishly allowed to get a little too close, at the mortal
Willow he'd felt some strange desire to discover, Spike turned
and left.

He'd make one last stop at Angel's - close that door once and
for all - tell Angel as much as he could about the next few
years on the Hellmouth... then he'd leave. For good. Forever.

He had come back to stop his future from coming about. He
hadn't come back to make the same mistakes all over again.

He was not weak.

He was not going to let himself be weak ever again.
 

~Part: Nine~

"... and then you didn't come back until you decided to turn
Willow?" Angel finished, trying to recap the wild stories Spike
had just dumped on him. Details of what to expect in the
following years had been sketchy at best, Spike having
maintained that he'd left for Brazil with Drusilla after fleeing
Sunnydale and stayed away for most of the rest of the year.
When he had finally returned, the gang's well being hadn't
been foremost on his mind despite having stayed with them for
quite a while, so there hadn't really been much he could tell of
that time either.

What few things he had been able to share however, had
Angel slightly overwhelmed... but not so much so, that he didn't
recognize Spike's deliberate avoidance of the confrontation the
two had obviously had after Willow's demise.

If Spike was serious about leaving, perhaps now was the time
to find out just what exactly had happened that Spike seemed
so determined to hedge. Especially given the sudden
vulnerability Spike seemed to be exuding. Ever since walking
through the door, the blonde vampire had been undeniably
anxious to leave... uncharacteristically nervous, scared even,
as if he were just barely in control... as if whatever floodgates
he had built around himself had suddenly cracked and were
threatening to release a torrent of something he had carefully
kept hidden away.

"That's it." Spike nodded, downing the remnants of his mug and
rising to his feet.

Angel clamped a hand down around the blonde's wrist. "...
only someone else had already turned her." he continued.
Spike eyed him warily, obviously not seeing how his time with
Willow could possibly be of any future importance. "But you
wanted her anyways, so you carted her off, had some great
times, then one day she decides she's bored. She's learned
everything she thinks she can from you and tries walking out.
You try to convince her to stay, she tells you she never
intended on staying, you go postal and dust her." Nodding
silently, Spike tried jerking his wrist free, but Angel held on,
now also getting to his feet to stand in front of his childe and
make sure the younger vampire would be going nowhere.

This time however, Angel made sure not to appear too
threatening - it was not another bout of anger he was trying to
unearth.

"When you calmed down, you realized you had no one left and
headed back to LA to try to salvage whatever it was that had
become of our relationship. What happened after that Spike?"

Spike's nostrils flared angrily as he glared up at his sire, his
demon's visage rippling forth, "I told you, things didn't work
out." he hissed, this time putting more strength behind his
attempt to free his wrist.

Angel may have steered clear from his old vampiric circles for
some time now - he may have even tried forgetting his vampiric
half altogether at times, but in this instant, he knew that the
only thing that was going to get Spike talking was giving into
that same vampire half.

Vamping out himself, he growled and moved quickly to pin his
childe down to the table. Spike snarled in surprise, then anger,
but by the time he realized what had happened, his positioning
was too awkward for him to get any real strength or leverage
behind his struggles.

"What happened between *us*." Angel demanded, now positive
that whatever it was that had occurred then had been the
turning point that had changed this Spike so drastically.

Spike continued to glare up at him defiantly, his lips pressed
together firmly.

"Maybe I can guess," Angel tried instead, switching tactics...
what could have happened that would have destroyed
whatever fragile hold of a fading humanity Spike had for some
reason continued clinging to even two centuries after his
turning?

Scenes of Angel's own final confrontation with his sire flashed
through his mind suddenly, and Angel tilted his head curiously.

"You came to LA, maybe got a little drunk in your depression,
then eventually ran into me." Angel began, taking Spike's
renewed struggles as a positive sign. "You probably slurred
something derogatory about Buffy in your drunken state, and I
probably reacted... badly."

"I'm warning you Angel; Let. Me. Go." Spike growled, pure
hatred flaring up in his eyes.

"What did I do Spike? What did I say?" Angel wondered aloud,
already able to guess with a fair amount of certainty what the
answer to his questions were. "Did I push you away? Did I tell
you leave? To get out and never come back?" Did I disown
you the way Darla disowned me, right when I needed someone
to hold me the most? He silently added.

He'd often wondered what would have happened had Darla not
reacted the way she had. He'd been confused, dazed,
disoriented, guilt-ridden, when he'd returned to the home they'd
acquired. If she had've held him, assured him that everything
would be alright, helped him get over the initial shock and
overwhelming rush of new emotion, he may just have learned
to accept his darker nature and give into it once more.

Angel knew he'd never been an overly great person before
he'd 'died', he'd had morals, sure, and he'd drawn the line at
murder and outright torture... but he'd loved his violence even
with his soul... he'd lusted, he'd hurt others with blatant
disregard, he'd been rude, self-centred, arrogant... all qualities
that had simply been heightened when the demon had taken
over.

If Darla had've been there for him, *with* him, he wouldn't be
surprised if the guilt eventually wore off, became more of an
occasional nuisance rather than an overbearing burden. He'd
probably have found his moment of perfect happiness before
long anyways, and made his permanent reversion to the
demon.

It had been the time spent alone that had done him in and
made him ripe for Whistler's teachings. Years spent wallowing
in his guilt instead of trying to ignore it, years spent
remembering every face of every victim instead of trying to
forget them, years spent dwelling on the past rather than trying
to move forwards.

So, if that was what *he* in essence had done to Spike, what
would the reaction of a soulless demon be? Nothing was more
sacred to a vampire than blood, and the blood bonding sire
and childe was the most powerful of all bonds. Angel had been
rejected by his blood mate and sire... his soul had driven him
even farther away and into seclusion and isolation.

For one without a soul though, what would happen?

Spike increasingly desperate struggles drew him back to the
present, and at the fiery rage he could see bubbling just
beneath the surface of the eyes glaring dangerously up at him,
Angel suddenly knew the answer. He'd already answered it
himself in fact.

His own human emotions and qualities had been heightened
by the demon... when Darla had banished him, that well of
emotion had drained from within him, being replaced instead
with the only other thing he'd had left to call his own: his guilt.

If Angel had indeed, at some point in this Spike's past,
disowned and rejected him, right when the blonde had been
desperately searching out the one being he knew he could
count on... if Spike's 'well' had run dry, what else did a demon
have left but that which it would always have: its hate; its
anger; its violence.

"I'm not him." Angel intoned fiercely, keeping a firm and sure
lock of Spike's gaze. "I'm not the Angel that hurt you... and I
never will be. You've already changed too many things in
*this* time for me to ever let that happen."

Although Spike's struggles eased somewhat, the hatred in the
piercing amber eyes did not.

"Spike, I know exactly what you're going through - what you
*went* through - because I've been there myself." His voice
was laden with honest sincerity as he uttered his next words, "I
don't know what your Angel did to you or said to you, but *I*
don't hate you, I never have, and I can't see that I ever could...
*no* *matter* *what* *happens* *between* *me* *and* *Buffy*.
That, *I* promise you."

As Spike's eyes continued to search Angel's, the demon's
visage rippled away, "I still need to leave." Spike maintained
firmly, refraining from directly acknowledging Angel's
admission. His voice however had, for the first time Angel was
aware of, been tinged with warring emotions.

"Fair enough." Angel relented reluctantly, lowering his head
towards Spike's ear as he replied. "Just remember that you
always have been, still are, and always will be, *my* childe." he
whispered firmly just before sinking his fangs into the side of
Spike's neck.

The bite was hard and fast, bordering closely on even being
violent, but Spike's body relaxed completely in his arms
nonetheless. Just before he had the younger vampire - or was
Spike the older one now? - completely drained, he pulled back
and carefully slit his own neck, raising Spike's lips to the
wound and encouraging the other vampire to drink, in a parody
of Spike's original turning.

He felt Spike hesitate for only a moment before lapping
hungrily at the offered blood, the blonde's demonic visage
remaining at bay as he drank as if for the first time.

An uneasy contentment finally settled upon Angel as the
souled vampire wondered at the significance of their slightly
unorthodox reaffirmation of their sire-childe bond. A part of him
fervently hoped this would mean that Spike would stay, that
Spike would eventually learn to lend a helping hand, and his
unique companionship. Another part of him wondered if he'd
just started himself down a darker road than he'd been striving
for initially. To accept Spike, would invariably mean that he'd
need to accept his own demonic half more directly - perhaps
even draw on that demonic half more regularly if he wanted to
continue to understand and help Spike.

...What scared him was that if it meant that he'd have someone
- Spike - at his side, someone that would be able to understand
him in ways that even Buffy never would... the risks were all
more than acceptable to him.

Feeling his symbolically newly sired childe settle down and pull
back, Angel finally released his hold of Spike and stood. "So...
where were you planning on heading?" he asked with forced
casualness, silently hoping it wouldn't be too far.

Spike closed his eyes as he slowly sat up and rubbed his neck,
his fingers running over the already healing wound Angel had
caused. "Dunno," he drawled thoughtfully, "-you still got that
old mansion out on the outskirts?"

Angel blinked, in all the recent excitement, he'd nearly
forgotten about the large manor he had searched out and
tagged as a possible alternative living location. The apartment
really made him feel more a part of society - more of a part of
*humanity* - he'd forgone that old mansion simply because that
had later struck him as a step backward in his quest for
redemption. It isolated him more, it left him, both literally and
figuratively, on the mere fringes of the humanity he longed to
protect and regain.

"Yeah... yeah, I do." he finally stuttered out in surprise.

"Might try that place out for a while then." Spike shrugged,
"Don't have many happy memories of being there - or being in
Sunnyhell in general - who knows, maybe its time to start
making some new ones." There was a slight pause. "When I
get back, I'll check that place out."

"It's all yours." Angel invited unhesitatingly, eying Spike
questioningly, "Where are you planning on going first?"

"Somewhere that's not here." Spike shrugged, "I'll know when I
get there."

Thinking quickly Angel nodded, "Can it wait until tomorrow
night?"

Spike frowned, hesitated, then slowly nodded, a hint of
suspicion colouring his voice, "I guess. Why?"

Angel shook his head. "Just wait." he insisted. Spike
shrugged, obviously not happy with that answer, but willing to
let it slide, and made his way over to the sofa. "I'll be back
soon." Angel called out absently as he grabbed his jacket and
headed for the door, quickly slipping out and rushing down the
hall. He had some preparations to make before tomorrow night
came, because unfortunately, his hands were going to be tied
during the daylight hours.

~~~~~

Willow watched as Angel disappeared over the edge of her
balcony, then shut the lights and crawled back into bed. Her
mind was still a jumbled confusion of thoughts and emotions,
and a part of her wondered why she had even agreed... but
she knew why: Spike.

Despite how stupid she felt for having kissed the blonde
vampire, she had also been filled with confusion, hurt and
embarrassment when he'd taken off so hastily afterwards. On
one hand she was glad that he hadn't killed her, on the other
hand she was surprised and uncertain at the unhidden conflict
and confusion in his eyes, on the other hand she was hurt by
his apparent need to get away from her like that.

It was somewhat reassuring, she supposed, to have Angel
come by and practically throw himself in her arms for having
opened the door for him... whatever that had meant - Angel
knew already that he'd been given his requisite invite into her
home. All she knew for certain now was that somehow, what
had transpired between herself and Spike earlier had helped
Angel do something tonight. A good something.

...And now Angel wanted a couple cell phones.

Just when she was sure her night couldn't possibly get any
wierder...

Sighing, Willow closed her eyes... according to Angel - who'd
done more talking in the last fifteen minutes than she'd heard
of him in the last year and half - she'd must have somehow
managed to crack through a part of Spike's inner shell.

It was a small success, but a success nonetheless.

Some of her confusion and hurt had been dispelled by Angel's
visit, but a whole new confusion had replaced it. Figured, what
had she been expecting from the infamous Cryptic Guy? A
straight, clear answer? A small smile tugged at her lips. She'd
just have to wait until tomorrow night before she got her
answers.

~~~~~

Buffy looked up at Angel, eyes narrowed, "We *agreed* to talk
to Ms Calendar tomorrow night." she reminded him firmly.

Nodding, but keeping his distance, Angel held up his hands as
if in surrender, "I know. I didn't say we should call it off, I only
said it might be delayed... something came up." he looked
down as he lowered his arms, "I'll meet you back here, after
your patrol, ok?"

Trust him. You trust him. You love him. He loves you. He
trusts you. Buffy repeated to herself as she stared out her
window to the vampire crouched on her roof. "I'll wait for you
here then." she relented reluctantly. He shot her a grateful
look, then turned to leave, but she quickly reached out and
grabbed his arm. "Angel... something's been wrong lately...
between us... what is it?" she asked quietly. The past few
nights now, he'd been looking at her like he wanted to hold her
and never let go, but avoiding any close physical contact with
her as if she'd burn him.

He swallowed visibly, avoiding her gaze as he stared out into
the darkness, "There's noth..." he closed his eyes almost
painfully, cutting himself off. When he opened his eyes, he
gave her a look full of love and turned around to cup her cheek
with his hand. "I love you Buffy." he stated simply, that small
flash of pain passing through his eyes once again.

He withdrew and jumped down to the ground before she could
react, and she could feel the tears beginning to fill her eyes.
The way he'd said it just now... he'd made his profession of
love sound more like a final farewell.

She was so not losing him. Not for anything.

"I love you to." she whispered quietly as she shut the window,
cursing him for not being able to open up with her, and cursing
those gypsies for slowly tearing at the happiest relationship
she'd ever...

The thought died and her hand froze on the lock of her window:
the happiest relationship she'd ever had. This was the
happiest... closing her eyes, she slumped forwards against her
closed window. If she was able to feel so happy and content
with Angel, it stood to reason that he must feel the same way
about being with her.

That was why he seemed to be avoiding her... she made him
happy. He was afraid of getting too happy. How could she
have been so blind? Pain at his avoidance drained from her as
annoyance towards his inability to trust her with that piece of
information filled her instead... combined with a new anger
towards the gypsies that had cursed him, because they hadn't
just cursed him when they cast that spell... they had cursed her
too.

What had she done to deserve this? Had she not done her
duty well enough? Had she not saved enough lives? This one
little bit of happiness, this one little bit of love... they were
taking it away from her if their curse took Angel away from her.

If Ms Calendar did know anything about this...

Stalking back to her bed, Buffy slid under the covers, her
hands balled into fists. Nothing in her life had been fair since
discovering her calling - her destiny - her duty in life - she was
a fool for ever believing things would be different just because
she'd moved and made friends who knew and accepted her not
only as Buffy Summers, but also as the Slayer, the Chosen
One.

The tears slid slowly from her closed eyes as she rolled onto
her side, hugged her pillow and silently cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~

Spike looked up as Willow walked into the apartment, a plastic
bag in her hand which she immediately passed to Angel.

"Hi." she greeted shyly, looking over at him uncertainly.

"Hello." Spike echoed blandly but automatically, silently
wondering how one little kiss could break the carefully
maintained control he had held over himself for so long. He
really needed to leave.

Of course, first he needed to tear his eyes off of the red-head
standing awkwardly across from him.

Fortunately, Angel came to his aid, reaching into the bag,
pulling out a box and handing it over to him. Spike frowned as
he finally managed to avert his gaze from Willow to the
package being held out in his direction.

A phone? Angel was giving him a bleeding phone?

"Don't lose touch, Spike." Angel demanded quietly. "I meant
what I said last night; you are my childe, and I refuse to lose
you again."

It had been a long time since his sire had ever demanded
anything from him... almost another lifetime ago... it had been
even longer since he'd actually listened to and obeyed those
demands.

"Wouldn't want that, would we." Spike relented, unable to put
the desired amount of bitterness in his voice, as he accepted
the box and rose to his feet. Much more of this sappy
exchange and he'd probably heave.

"Spike, one other thing." Angel called out before Spike could
make good on his escape. Against his better judgement, Spike
came to a halt. "I have to meet Buffy later... could you walk
Willow home before you go?"

No. Walking Willow home would be a very stupid idea. He'd
probably end up doing something pathetic or weak if he walked
the beautiful red-head home.

"Sure." he grunted, walking to the door, then holding it open for
Willow and nodding for her to precede him.

She scooted by quickly and Spike cast one last look at his
sire... at Angel. Angel gave him a small nod, then held up a
matching cell phone, "There's a number for this phone in your
box." the dark-haired vampire informed him, lifting a brow at
Willow for silent confirmation.

The young mortal nodded, "Yep, wrote it out and put it in the
box before coming here, just like you told me to." she supplied
from the hall.

Closing the door behind him, Spike tucked the box under one
arm and started down the hall next to Willow. He could do
this... walk Willow home, then go on his merry way. He could.
He had to.
 

~Part: Ten~

This was it, that proverbial moment of truth... and Angel still
couldn't believe he'd agreed to this.

Hesitating, as he stared warily at the bland motel door in front
of him, Angel stalled the upcoming confrontation by letting his
mind wander back to his decision to, more or less, pressure
Spike into walking Willow home. It was suddenly seeming like
less and less of a great idea.

What was he expecting after all? Willow was an innocent -
almost completely oblivious to the effect she could potentially
have over the blonde vampire she still feared. But she desired
that same vampire too, and it was that desire that Angel had
somewhat irrationally hoped she'd let out again tonight.

She literally had the power to do the one thing even Angel
couldn't: pull Spike the rest of the way back, because Angel
had realized, even after his confrontation with Spike the
previous night, that there was too much the blonde vampire
was determined to hold back where their once cemented sire-
childe bond was concerned. With Willow though... there was
some kind of definite weakness.

But, looking back, Angel had had no right to silently shoulder
that burden on the young mortal that was his own love's best
friend... trying to set up a possibly dangerous confrontation
between Spike and Willow as he had; it was something that his
demon would have gleefully done just to see whether it would
be Spike or Willow who would break first. Souled, he should
never have allowed himself to succumb to that final desperate
attempt at unearthing his childe.

Because while Willow might be able to find a way to get
through to Spike once again, there was, on the other hand, the
very real possibility that Spike would see that as enough of a
threat to lash out in defence. Unfortunately, with demons, that
defence usually meant violence. And death. He could only
hope that Spike would live up to the promise he had made.

Willfully pushing the new flood of guilt and pessimism from his
mind, he focussed his attention back on the door before him,
then finally reached out and turned the knob. The door opened
easily... of course Angel was so tense, he couldn't tell if that
was because he'd inadvertently broken the lock with his
vampiric strength, or because the occupant of the room had
merely left the door unlocked.

There was no way this plan of Buffy's was going to work.

Biting back a sigh, Angel started into the room nonetheless.
After confronting the computer teacher, Angel had practically
had to hold Buffy down to keep her from attacking the young
woman outright. When tempers had finally cooled somewhat,
Buffy had of course demanded to know how to make his soul
permanent - Jenny hadn't known, had claimed that it might not
even be possible anymore - but further prompting had led her
to divulge the whereabouts of her visiting uncle.

At the conviction in Jenny's voice though, that her uncle would
be difficult to convince to help, Buffy had decided to give the
man some motivation...

"I knew she would bring you, I suppose you want answers." an
unfamiliar voice called out.

Show time. Shifting to his vampiric countenance Angel forced
himself to yield to the instincts of the demon housed within him.
"Not really." he offered coolly, allowing an almost forgotten
cocky yet cold amusement to seep into his words.

The lone mortal in the room stood up immediately, spinning
around and looking at the vampire with sheer terror. The
tantalizing scent was one that only spurred Angel's act further,
"But thanks for the offer." he smirked, a small part of him
feeling a little guilty for what he was about to put the man
through before Buffy and Jenny gave him the stop signal... the
rest of him was enjoying the fear he had managed to inspire
with disturbing glee.

Strolling towards the frozen, shocked mortal with a predatory
casualness and confidence, he grabbed the man firmly by the
neck. "Let the games begin." he murmured quietly. A reminder
to himself that this was only supposed to be a 'game', and a
means of striking further fear into the old man's heart.

He really hoped this plan worked.

~~~~~

Willow slowed to a stop as they approached the foot of her
driveway, they hadn't spoken a word to each other the whole
walk here. Spike's reversion to his inscrutable, stone-faced
mask soon after they had left Angel's apartment had
intimidated her from asking what she desperately wanted to:
namely, where he planned on going, why, and if it was
somehow because of her.

It was now or never though. She took a deep breath.

"So, you're off." she observed, stalling as she tried organizing
her thoughts a little better.

"Yeah." Spike answered simply, still avoiding her gaze.

Willow forced herself to continue searching his face, "Is it
because of me?" she blurted out, hearing the waver of pain in
her voice despite her efforts to cover it up, "Is it because of...
last night?"

Clenching his jaw, Spike slowly brought his eyes around to
meet hers. It was a steely glare that only gradually softened to
more of a hard look. "Yes. To both questions." he replied
slowly.

She looked away immediately unable to take it anymore. She
knew it. She shouldn't have kissed him, she shouldn't have let
herself believe that there was anything in him that still felt
anything at all towards her... she shouldn't have asked her
question just now - then at least she could live with the
delusion that someone secretly loved her...

Just as she was about to turn away and run into the safety and
solitude of her house to wallow in her misery without the object
of her recent obsessions witnessing it first hand, she felt a
hand grip her shoulder firmly, then another one come up to cup
her chin.

"Don't." she whispered, her eyes closed as she fought against
the now familiar desire that coursed through her at his touch,
"Please don't." she begged.

He did anyways. Tilting her head up, she heard him whisper
softly, "Open your eyes."

She wanted to refuse, she wanted to tear herself out of his hold
and run... instead, she opened her eyes, her unshed tears
blurring her vision.

"You made me... *feel*... things Willow. Things I thought were
gone... things I wanted gone." She blinked her tears out of her
eyes as she struggled to search his gaze again, suddenly
shocked and surprised at his admission. His eyes remained
hard and cold, but there was a sincerity in them as well. "You
made me want to... do this..." he trailed off as he bent down
and grazed her lips.

At her unconscious sigh, he deepened the seemingly innocent
kiss at once, plunging his cool tongue into her mouth, startling
her, then arousing her further as she felt that small desire
explode into a full blown wave that coursed through her entire
body. No one had *ever* kissed her like that before...

"That's not a bad thing." she gasped, when he finally released
her, her hands seeking out his wrists immediately as if she
could single-handedly keep him there.

A half-smirk, devoid of any humour, touched his lips, "It is for
me." he informed her simply.

Willow shook her head, "It *was* for you." she corrected.
"Things are different now... things might not happen the way
you remember..."

"It doesn't matter what will or won't happen," Spike interrupted,
"-because for me, it's already happened."

Gathering her nerve, she found a previously undiscovered
calm within her and held his gaze. "Tell me?" she requested
softly but firmly. "Tell me what happened to you - why you
don't want to... feel... or love..."

For a minute he said nothing, then he snorted and looked
away, "You wouldn't understand. You haven't even loved once
in your lifetime yet."

"So help me understand." Willow countered, still rooted in that
newly discovered calm. "Because all I can see right now is a
vampire that, not two months ago would have probably taken a
stake in the name of love, but refuses to even entertain the
notion right now."

Another minute of silence passed, then soft chuckles erupted
as Spike lowered his head and pried his wrists free from her
grasp, clutching her hands in his instead, "How did you feel
when you saw Xander 'sucking face' as you call it, with
Cordelia?"

Getting the idea, Willow bit her lip, "You know how I felt - I was
angry, and hurt, and resentful... all those bad emotions that
make you want to just crawl into a hole and close yourself off
from the world forever."

Spike nodded, as a teacher might to a student who'd just given
a correct answer, "And what did you lose?" Startled with that
question Willow was left momentarily speechless. "Did you
lose Xander as a friend?" he helped her out. Willow shook her
head no - her relationship with Xander might be a little strained
right now, but it wasn't the first time she'd found herself angry
with him, or the first time he'd inadvertently done something to
hurt her feelings. Their *friendship* wasn't worth abandoning
just because of her jealousy, justified though it may be... "Did
you lose Buffy as a friend? Angel? Giles?" Again Willow was
left to shake her head no. "Did you make new enemies? Were
you suddenly the laughingstock of your school? Treated
differently?" Still forced to shake her head no, Willow silently
tried figuring out where he could possibly be going with this.
"Did you lose all hope of ever falling in love with anyone else?"
Blushing as she recalled the sudden rise in frequency of her
Spike-thoughts, Willow again shook her head. "Did you stop
being Willow?" Shaking her head yet again, she finally opened
her mouth to ask what the point of all this was, but was
silenced by the look in his eye.

His gaze was hard, but this time not from anger or coolness, it
was more of a determined-hard, like he really was trying to
make her understand something.

"Ever wonder why humanity is such a poisonous thing for
demons, Willow?" he asked suddenly, his change of topic
throwing her off guard momentarily.

"It makes them feel weak?" she guessed.

"It makes us weak." Spike corrected. "For love, for Dru, I called
a truce with Buffy to take Angelus down once - to stop my *sire*
- my *soulless* sire - from destroying the world. As a thanks,
Dru dumped me. How did I feel, Willow?"

"Like I felt about Xander?" Willow guessed again, that answer
seeming rather obvious.

"What did I lose?"

Hesitating, unable to think of anything other than his lover that
he could have lost, she bit her lip in concentration yet again.
"You lost Dru." she answered slowly.

"...and...?" he pressed, his eyes still relentlessly boring into
hers.

"...your sire - Angel?" Willow continued wracking her brains.

"...and...?"

Her brows knitting, Willow finally gave up and shrugged.

"Respect." he provided for her, "-from most of the other demons
who'd heard about what happened. Status, I went from a killer
of Slayers to a partner of the Slayer. My bloody fangs, blind
hate got me messed with by bunch of *humans*. *Self*-respect,
I actually tried offing *myself* for becoming such a pathetic
mess." he stopped briefly, though Willow strongly suspected he
could still add to his list, but his break allowed her a chance to
absorb what he was saying. She had lost him completely
somewhere around him losing his fangs, but she was getting
the picture.

"For love, I came back for you... carted you off despite finding
you already turned, gave you everything you ever asked for or
could possibly want. As a thanks, you packed your bags one
day and told me it was time to move on." Raising a brow he
continued, "I take it we don't have to go through how I felt?"
Willow nodded. "So what did I lose this time?"

"Me." Willow answered immediately, already knowing the
answer to that one. Pursing her lips she took another stab,
feeling as though she was starting to understand where he was
going with this, "Hope. You started losing hope of ever finding
someone that would want to stay with you." proud of herself,
despite the pang of sympathy that went out to him suddenly at
the thought of just how exactly it must have felt to be
abandoned and betrayed twice in such a short period of time,
she tried for a third point, "Control. You lost your sense of
control over your future, you thought I'd be there with you for
eternity cause I didn't have an Angel-fetish or anything, but for
a reason you never suspected I left anyways."

She fell silent as she began running out of ideas, and he
picked it up for her again, "My identity; I went crawling back to
Angel, needing someone, even a souled poof I couldn't stand
at the time, and he... we had a bad confrontation." His eyes
flashed amber suddenly and his hands tightened around hers -
not painfully, yet - but with a definitely stronger grasp than he
had previously used. "I lost everything and everyone I had
ever been. I lost myself."

Again, his words were passing right over her head, but from his
sudden change of mood, from the sudden edge that had
entered his voice, she decided against pressing the issue.

Instead, she tried squeezing his hands in what she hoped
would be perceived as a comforting squeeze and not an
annoyed one at his tighter grip.

Closing his eyes, he bowed his head until his forehead was
almost leaning against her shoulder. "I died... Spike died..." he
murmured quietly, whether to himself or to her she was unsure.

Carefully freeing her hands, she slowly, almost instinctively,
brought her arms up and enveloped him in a tentative hug.
Her questions and confusions were pushed to the back of her
mind, she still didn't quite understand everything he'd tried
telling her, but now was not the time to ask for clarifications.
She understood enough. She understood that demon or not,
vampire or not, threat to her life or not, he needed someone to
be with him right now. She also understood, on some primal
level she didn't even want to begin examining, that she stood
the best chance of anyone - Angel included - of being that
someone for him... and not just for tonight, or for this moment.

~~~~~

Buffy stared off into the darkness as she stood awkwardly
across from the vampire that had, only a couple short hours
ago, shown her a side she'd never seen before. It was one
thing to read or hear about what Angelus had been like, it was
another thing entirely to find herself seeing the potential evil
first hand. Angel hadn't even done anything other than
threaten the old man either.

His roleplaying of Angelus had displayed a side of him that was
the complete opposite of everything she'd seen of him as
Angel.

"I'm sorry." Angel finally offered, heading for her bedroom
window.

She stared at him, "Sorry? For what? You did your best, *we*
did our best... I guess it's all just out of our hands now."

"I'm sorry about my... my behaviour." he clarified, turning to
look at her over his shoulder. "I-I've never let the demon out
that much before..."

Buffy looked down, unsure what to say - it had bothered her
more than she cared to admit to see her Angel so
uncharacteristically aggressive - arrogant and cocky, dark
and... well, *evil*. "I asked you to do it." Buffy reminded him,
trying, unsuccessfully, to ease the tension hanging heavily
around them.

It was a small comfort though. They were no closer to a
solution now than they had been before confronting Ms
Calendar. All they had now was the fear-inspired promise of
an old man they might never hear from again, to try unearthing
the long ago lost magicks that had first cursed Angel, and Ms
Calendar's promise to do whatever she could to help.

Neither promise had inspired much hope in Buffy though... how
could trust them - either of them? Enyos, she'd probably never
hear from again, and Ms Calendar was even less dependable.
Aside from the fact that she'd lied to the group before, she had
pretty much cut herself off from her people when she moved to
Sunnydale, and given her current support of the vampire with a
soul, it was unlikely that she'd find much help from them now.

What was worse though was having to face Angel now that she
knew the risks. The minute she saw him, she wanted to fall
into his arms and be held by perhaps the only one who
understood just how burdensome it was juggling wants vs
needs. But how could she when she truly weighed the risks?

She *wanted* a normal life - she *wanted* to just go back to
being regular Buffy Ann Summers, care-free, popular, happy,
cheerleader. But she *needed* to be the Slayer, Chosen One,
champion of humanity, protector of the innocent - she *needed*
to be there to protect the world, her friends, her mother...
because there was no one else out there really who could.

There were other demon-hunters, there was even Kendra, as
she had so recently discovered, but deep down inside she
knew that she'd never be able to live with herself if she just
turned her back on her unwanted duty and destiny.

Kendra may be a Slayer, Kendra may be her equal in every
official sense of the word, but Kendra just didn't fight with the
same passion and care that Buffy felt when she fought.
Kendra wasn't fighting because she had friends and family that
she wanted to protect and watch over - Kendra fought because
that was what she was trained to do her entire life. The *only*
thing she'd been trained to do.

Trying to get herself back under control, Buffy looked up to
meet Angel's concerned gaze, "Are you gonna be ok?" she
asked as he struggled with staying where he was and not
closing the distance between them to hold her.

He nodded silently, "You?"

Buffy forced herself to nod, "We'll find another way around this
if we have to." she decided with forced optimism.

Angel gave her an unconvinced nod before slipping out her
window. Buffy didn't even bother closing it behind him as she
silently hugged herself and curled up on her bed. She'd really
been ready to go that next step with Angel... she'd really
*wanted* to go that next step with him.

...And now this.

Right when they were actually starting to feel more comfortable
with each other, right when things where starting to go
smoother, right when she really let herself believe that there
was a light at the end of her dismal tunnel...

A strong cool arm wrapped itself around her hesitantly and
Buffy rolled over blindly, burying her face in the familiar chest
of the body that had lain down beside her. "It's not fair." she
whispered, a lump forming in her throat.

"I know." Angel's pained voice returned, strangely soothing
despite the fact that there was no actual reassurance that
came with his words.

As the first sob finally wracked her body, she grabbed the front
of his jacket in her tightly balled fist, clinging to him
desperately. "Why does it have to hurt so much?"

He rubbed her back in a gentle and comforting way as he
continued to hold her, "I don't know." he admitted, silently
holding her as she continued to cry.

How long she cried against him, she didn't know, but after a
few minutes, as she felt herself calming slightly, she heard him
quietly urging her to sleep. She wanted to ask him to stay with
her, to promise not to leave, to be there when she woke up
again... but that wouldn't be fair to him - wouldn't be fair to
*them*.

For the sake of not losing him completely, she complied silently
instead, trying to force her body to relax and let sleep claim
her. She had no clue how, or if, she and Angel could work
through this curse problem, but for now, for tonight, she'd be
content just to fall asleep in his arms for the first time.

~~~~~

Angel watched and listened as Buffy slowly drifted off, revelling
in the feel of finally just being able to hold her while she slept,
delighting in the utter and complete trust in him that it
represented, but sharing in the pain she had been feeling even
as she fell asleep.

As good as it felt to hold her, it hurt with an almost unbearable
pain too. It was only because of the emotional stresses he
knew they were both currently victim of that he'd trusted
himself to crawl back through her winder after hearing her slip
into bed and smelling her unshed tears and frustrations.

But he couldn't stay. He couldn't risk drifting off himself, then
waking up later and finding the frustrations lessening within
him sufficiently to want to hold her again... this time free of the
desire to also comfort her and ease her pain.

Extracting himself slowly and carefully from her embrace, he
eased himself off the bed then paused and bent over her
enough to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"I love you." he whispered as he stood and made his way back
to her window.

He could only hope that between Giles, Jenny, and Enyos,
someone might eventually find a way to secure his soul... but
just in case... just in case there was no solution to be found, he
was going to have to start making plans of his own.

As much as it pained him to even consider the idea of leaving
Buffy, he loved her too much to willingly and knowingly put her
at additional risk by sticking around and just crossing his
fingers that the next time he saw her wouldn't be the encounter
that set his demon free.

It would hurt her, he knew, if he left, but at least he'd be
assured that it would not be *his* hands that were responsible
for her death.

Hanging his head wearily as he closed her windows behind
him and dropped to the ground, he started back towards his
apartment. He'd put off his plans for as long as he could, but if
nothing seemed forthcoming, or he felt himself giving into his
feelings for her more and more... he had to at least be
prepared.

~~~~~

Soft. Warm. Safe.

Spike blinked his eyes open.

Heat. Pulse. Blood. Food.

With an unconscious growl, he elongated his fangs.

"Spike?"

Concern. Care. Compassion.

There was usually fear, terror and horror there... something
was not right.

"Spike? Are you ok?"

Willow?

Forcing his hunger to bay, Spike forced his human features
back to the fore. "What happened?" he heard himself asking
out loud. Last thing he could remember, he was standing
outside telling Willow, against his better judgement, why he
wasn't going to let love rule his unlife anymore.

He was no longer standing, nor was he outside. Although
Willow was still there...

"You kind of spaced out for a bit, so I brought you inside." she
explained, a small trace of fear and uncertainty now detectable
in her voice.

Inside? As in inside her house - a place he had warned her to
keep him out of? Stupid, stubborn little twit... now he could kill
her, if not tonight then any other night of his choosing. Hell, he
could kill her whole family - her friends if they came over too.

But he wouldn't.

Why exactly he wouldn't, he didn't want to examine too closely.
'Because you're *leaving*' a tiny voice in his head lied for him.
Right. He was leaving.

"Um, you don't like, need... a drink... or anything do you?"
Willow's voice asked tentatively. He finally turned his head
away from the big, fuzzy blur in front of his face and searched
her out with his gaze. She was on the other side of the fuzzy
blur... also known as a bloody teddy bear when not stared at
from a proximity of half a millimetre. "Cause, I don't think my
folks keep... your kind of drink... in the fridge."

"I'm fine."

Sitting up he glanced over his surroundings, smiling faintly,
despite himself, as he recognized Willow's room. It didn't
really look all that different from how he remembered it. His
eyes eventually came around and landed back on her. She
had changed into her pajamas and she looked absolutely
scrumptious in them; soft, pastel green, small fish swimming all
over them...

Okay, *now* he was hungry.

"Um, Spike?" There was fear in her voice, fear mingled with
desire, tinged with concern. It took him nearly a minute to
realize that the concern was directed at him - for him - not
because of him, for her own well being.

The first thing he actually felt was touched... when was the last
time someone had been concerned about him? He resolutely
squashed that emotion before it could grow. She sat up too
then, reaching out towards him carefully until she had his hand
held in hers.

He looked down at their entwined fingers. When was the last
time someone had just wanted to hold him? His eyes narrowed
automatically, there was a trick here somewhere... a catch...

"I need to get going." he reminded himself, his hand failing to
obey his command for it to release Willow's.

"If you want," she relented, sounding almost reluctant, "-but the
sun comes up in less than an hour now." Blinking, he glanced
down at her wrist watch, then silently looked back up at her for
an explanation. "You zoned out for a little while, I brought you
in..." she repeated, looking a little sheepish as she continued,
"...and you maybe, sort of, fell asleep after I brought you up
here." looking down, she tugged on his hand, urging him to lie
down.

His body seemed to have grown a mind of its own while he was
out, because it obediently fell to the mattress. If he didn't know
that she wasn't yet into her magic and spells, he'd be very
tempted to think that he'd been hexed before he'd woken up.
The fact that he couldn't have been was making him wonder
why he wanted to be there with her so badly.

She cradled him gently, and the sheer innocence of the wholly
giving and selflessness he could feel in her actions touched
him yet again. This time he was a little slower to extinguish it.

Sod it all, he liked it. He liked being held by someone for a
change, he liked being the object of someone's concern... he
hated that he liked it, but he still liked it.

He was getting soft... again... and that only led to weakness,
and he was *not* weak... but...

One night, one day, he'd let himself be pathetic and disgusting
until the sun set again - he'd get it all out of his system - then
he'd... leave...

No more mistakes, no more weaknesses, no more love... he
was done with them...

Warm fingers began stroking his head, running softly through
his hair, so soothing, so comforting, so reassuring... of course,
damn him, he liked it.

Maybe he wouldn't be leaving tomorrow. He could enjoy
Willow without falling in love... he could let her hold him and
care about him without falling into the trap of commitment.

He could. But he wouldn't.

He was falling. Again. Hard. But for the first time ever, it felt
right.

back