Love's Bitch Bites Back

E-mail: mistressofthedark@seductive.com

Pairing: W/A/S eventually, a bit of S/B (but not for long!)

Rating: Uh, NC-17 eventually I suppose.  This part PG13, maybe a bit more for the language and "adult themes"...whatever those are.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, they aren't mine, I'm just creatively "borrowing" the characters and some of the plotline that's already been established.  If I owned them, Buffy & Spike would *not* be doing unmentionable things, for one.

Spoilers: Probably 1/2 of Season Six, before I started changing things, so if you don't want to know about it, I suggest you read something else.

Distribution: Does anybody actually want this?  Just e-mail me to let me know where the poor orphaned story is going and I'll say yes.

Feedback: Do you think I do this for any *other* reason?  Pander to my poor fragile writer's ego or I'll get out the dragons...

Background: After Wrecked, Buffy decides to end the affair with Spike, who is crushed by her decision. He gets depressed. He is furious with Buffy and the world. Someone is worried about him and wants to take care of him. It may (:->) or may not develop into a romantic relationship. Flashbacks of the events that brought Spike to this emotional roller coaster would be greatly appreciated.

The fic must have:
- at some point Spike realizing that Buffy is kinda using him.
- Spike in real bad shape when his *rescuer* -or rescuers, depending if you decided for a threesome or a couple- finds him.
- The story should take place in Spike's crypt -at least at the beginning of it. If they stay there or go to LA or somewhere else is up to you.
- Mentions of the oh-so-creative strings of garlic on Buffy's windows and bed frame
- Mentions of Spike's issues with his Sire, especially related to Angel leaving him to go redeem himself.

Extra stuff: If you'd like to write a A/S or W/A/S story, then, Spike must have a hard time trusting Angel.

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~Part: 1~

"Garlic. The bloody bitch surrounded herself with sodding strings of garlic to try to keep me away from her. I can't bloody believe it. She fell back on the oldest misconception about vampires *ever,* just to try to keep me away. She should've bloody well known that that doesn't really work. I mean, sure, it's not exactly *pleasant* for vampires to be around garlic, but it's not like the sodding thing is a holy object, a wooden stake, or little bulbs of sunlight, now is it? I like to see how well *you'd* take it if you enhanced your bloody sense of smell 50 times what it is now and then waved something as strong as garlic under *your* nose. The stuff smells bad enough to humans as it is, did you suddenly think it started smelling like roses when you became undead?"

Spike finally stopped shouting and just raged around his crypt, throwing everything that wasn't attached to the ground (and some things that were) haphazardly in all directions. Occasionally vulgar explicatives could be heard among the crashes. Finally, after almost everything in the crypt was in complete and utter shambles, Spike's rampage ground to a halt and he settled into the next stage that followed anger after his heart had been broken...depression. To aid him in his quest for forgetfulness, he turned to one of the few things that hadn't been demolished in his angry temper tantrum; the bottle of whiskey he'd wrapped carefully in his leather duster before beginning. He slowly sank against the wall of the crypt (it was amazing that the crypt was still standing at all after what he'd done to it), grasping his whiskey like it was a lifeline he would perish without and was desperate to keep. The level of whiskey diminished at a steady rate as Spike's depression deepened. And as the whiskey in the bottle lessened and the depression increased, Spike started to talk to himself in a morose, rambling fashion.

"Wot the bloody 'ell were you thinking? Fallin' for a Slayer. I must've been bloody well out of my gourd. Falling in love with a Slayer, especially Buffy, is crazier than Drusilla on a bad day. 'Ow the 'ell did I get into this?"

And Spike remembered....

Two months ago, Spike had had some of the most incredible sex of his life. Buffy had finally given in and they had fucked. Although Spike really wanted to say that he'd made love to the Slayer, it was just impossible to apply that term to what they'd done. It was closer to an animalistic mating than anything else, only the term mating didn't really apply. After all, some species mate for life, and this was definitely *not* the case here. Even if the mating wasn't intended to be eternal, animal matings usually resulted in offspring at least. There was no species on the planet that did such things without a goal of reproduction in mind. Well, none except humans that is. So what it really was was a very humanistic gratification of sexual desires. It was a highly impersonal exchange, without any real feelings at all, at least on Buffy's part. Spike, however, was another story entirely. He would have liked personal feelings to come into it, but the way Buffy had been acting had made it impossible, so he had settled for raw, passionate sex.

See, the way Spike figured it, wooing Buffy into loving him was a slow process. Excruciatingly slow. First he had worked on making her not actively hate him. Then, he had worked on changing the hate to mere dislike and then apathy. Next, he had befriended her and eventually confessed his feelings for her. She had not reacted favorably and Spike had been back to being actively disliked, yet tolerated, barely. After working on her for a long time and her death/resurrection, Spike had finally gotten Buffy to the point where she was willing to admit her sexual attraction to him. After that, it had been easy to push her into getting physical with him. Spike had thought that eventually, if nothing else, she would become addicted and accustomed to the sex and it would tie her to him, at least long enough for some feeling other than apathy and dislike to germinate in her heart.

Unfortunately for Spike, he had been greatly mistaken in his estimation of Buffy's character. Instead of being eager for more of the fantastic sex they'd shared, Buffy had been disgusted, with Spike, but more importantly, with herself. She had immediately withdrawn from Spike in an emotional, figurative, and literal sense. She avoided him as often as possible, and when she couldn't, she made absolutely sure that she was always in the presence of the other Scoobies so that there was no opportunity for Spike to have a private word with her, or even the possibility of getting close enough to the Slayer to be able to *ask* for a word in private. So Spike had, reluctantly, played a waiting game. Although it was not in his nature to be a patient individual, Spike decided that the best course of action, although it would be especially hard for him to do, would be to wait. He knew that eventually Buffy would be alone and he would be able to convince her to sleep with him again. Besides, the Slayer was going through a rough time. She was trying to support her sister in a manner that Social Services would approve of and dealing with coming back from Heaven. To make things worse, she had added Willow's problems to her own, trying to aid the witch in becoming magic-free and supporting her through her break-up with Tara, yet also staying friends with the blond witch because of the help Tara could be if any magic was required and for the rapport she had with Dawn. Dawn had become more and more troublesome lately and Buffy found her extremely difficult to deal with, so anything or any one that made dealing with Dawn easier was welcome, no matter what other problems might arise.

Spike felt sorry for the li'l bit. She'd had a rougher time than most of the others lately. The death of her Mum followed closely by the death of her sister had badly traumatized her. Bringing Buffy back had in a way been even more distressing for Dawn. After beginning to cope with Buffy's death, she was suddenly expected to deal with her resurrection. Although this was an occasion for joy, it nonetheless created a tension between Dawn and Buffy because her sister had come back emotionless, or only able to express the negative emotions. Dawn waited months for a smile from Buffy that wasn't forced. Additionally, Buffy's return had caused a rift of sorts between Dawn and most of the other Scoobies. She blamed them for not telling her that they were trying to bring Buffy back. She was offended because she thought that they didn't trust her enough to tell her the important stuff. She blamed Willow the most because she was the one who did the spell to bring Buffy back and Willow was also the one who had been responsible for the whole Rack/car accident/near death episode as well.

But as sorry as Spike felt for the li'l bit, he felt worse for Willow. He'd rather enjoyed the chaos she'd created after Buffy's resurrection until Dawn was injured. It was clear to Spike that Willow's foray into the dark side of magic was really nothing more than power going to her head a little and the magical/karmic backlash of doing a spell like the one she'd done to bring Buffy back. It was obvious that the little redhead had had to use strongly powerful, not exactly white magic in order to bring back someone who'd been gone for so long. If the Watcher had still been around and had been aware of all of the ingredients used in that spell, then he could have explained the whole thing. Spike knew too that Willow would eventually start using magic again, when the backlash had finally halted. It was too much of a part of who she was now to give up altogether. The little blond witch knew it too, which is why she distrusted Willow so much. She knew that eventually Willow would start using magic again, and she feared that it would be the dark kind and that Willow would be unable or unwilling to escape it again. Willow's potential to slide into darkness scared Tara, so she kept her distance from Willow and refused to trust her again. This lack of trust on Tara's part guaranteed that the two witches would never make up and get back together, no matter how much Willow appeared to want that to happen. Given what had happen lately, Spike could sympathize with her. Even though caring or relating to humans in any way remotely positive made Spike feel like a big poof, there was no escaping the fact that there were some definite similarities between Willow's relationship with Tara and Spike's relationship with Buffy. The recent events which had led to Spike's destruction of everything in the crypt and his current morose state had especially emphasized this.

Earlier this evening, Spike had gotten tired of waiting for Buffy to be alone. His patience had lasted, astonishingly, for almost two months. But it had finally run out, and Spike had decided to confront Buffy where she was most vulnerable and guaranteed to be alone...her bedroom. Actually, given Buffy's attitude towards him over the past few months, Spike was rather surprised that he hadn't been uninvited from the Summers' house yet. In reality, Spike hadn't been uninvited because of several reasons: Dawn would've been upset if Spike was banned from the house, Buffy couldn't ask Willow to do the spell when she was making an effort to avoid magic completely, and Buffy didn't want to explain *why* exactly she wanted to bar someone who'd been a staunch ally for awhile now, even if he complained about it often and accompanied those complaints with threats of "When I get this soddin' chip out of me head..." Spike, however, imagined that the reason why Buffy hadn't uninvited him from her house was because she secretly *liked* the way he made her feel and that she really wanted him to come and overpower her token resistance so she could feel like she tried to resist her mortal enemy, even while secretly surrendering to him. Unfortunately, Spike was sometimes prone to delusions about his importance in the grand scheme of things and this was one of the times when Spike's views of the world and what the world was really like clashed. And Spike suffered greatly for it.

Spike had decided to sneak in to Buffy's bedroom via her window. It was a trite and clichéd method of entering the boudoir of one's beloved, but Buffy had a conveniently-placed tree outside her window that offered easy entrance and egress from her room (it had come in handy many times for Slaying duties when Joyce had still been alive) and Spike didn't think that Buffy would appreciate it if he came in through the front door and they disturbed Dawn or Willow. And this way Spike could determine that Buffy was alone before she saw him and he could make sure that they'd be able to have time to themselves to talk...or shag, if that's what ended up happening. It wasn't anything that Spike would object to. And so he found himself, less than an hour before the destruction of his crypt, in front of Buffy's window, watching to see when she came in to make certain that she was alone.

Spike didn't have to wait long for Buffy to come into her room. After watching her for so long, both in hatred and in longing, he had her schedule practically down pat. She was alone and clearly intended on going to bed without seeing anyone else that evening, as she had locked her door. 'Perfect,' Spike thought to himself, 'Now would just be perfect.' And suiting action to his thoughts, he silently opened the window and crept inside the Slayer's room to have a little chat.

Buffy turned partially at the noise, slight though it had been. However, she did not tense in the anticipation of a fight.  Although Buffy would normally, before dying and coming back to life that is, have switched instantly into battle-ready mode, she did not do so any longer.  There were two reasons for this.  One reason had to do with the trauma Buffy had been through of late.  Being abruptly pulled from a heavenly place that was warm, comforting, and above all, safe to being alive inside of a coffin was one of the worst nightmares that Buffy had ever had.  Buffy still on some level longed to be back in that place where life wasn't so hard and where she didn't have to fight.  But she was getting better at caring about life again, Dawn and the others were helping with that, so her wish to rejoin the ranks of the dead only accounted for a small part of the reason why she did not react to the threat of an intruder.  The other reason, the major reason, had to do with what her Slayer sense had to tell her about the intruder.  And what her Slayer sense had to tell her about the intruder was...absolutely nothing.  Vampires with whom Buffy had had extended contact eventually failed to register on her radar.  Usually it took at least half a year of fairly close contact with a vampire before her Slayer sense decided that it was no longer a threat and stopped being the recipient of a "dangerous" label in her brain.  That was how it had happened with Spike at least.  Angel had been different because she'd been young and her slayer sense hadn't been fully developed yet when she'd met him.  Of course, the soul tempered the presence of the demon and made his signal in her head different, which had made him harder to register.  So at first Angel hadn't registered on her radar at all, and then, when her senses had developed a little more he registered, and then after awhile, he hadn't registered at all.  The only problem with her Slayer sense in Buffy's opinion was that it failed to register things that were emotionally dangerous.  She really didn't think that Spike represented a danger to her physically, but emotionally was a whole other story.  She really didn't want to have this confrontation with Spike; it was why she'd spent the past two months carefully avoiding him.  She'd had enough emotional confrontations already lately and she really didn't need another one.  But it was clear that she wasn't going to be able to run away from having this conversation any longer, so she reluctantly resigned herself to what was bound to be a difficult talk, at least on Spike's part.  She sighed, crossed her arms defensively, and said in a put-upon tone, "What do you want Spike?"

Spike cocked his eyebrow in amusement.  "What do I want Buffy?  Well, isn't that a profound question for the bloody ages?  I want a lot of things...a good shag, a nice spot of violence, a bit o' blood, all three together in a bloody marvelous good time.  But right now I'd really like to know what the bloody hell you've been up to avoiding me for the past two months since we shagged."

"Look Spike," Buffy started, "I don't want to have anything to do with you.  What we did disgusts me.  Not only did it make me hate you more, but also I'm disgusted with *myself* for doing what we did.  I have never felt so...sordid and awful for having sex with anyone before in my life and I'm not proud of what we did at all.  In fact, I hate the fact that I used you just so I could try to feel something.  It didn't even work and afterwards I felt so dirty I scrubbed my skin raw when I came home.  The only thing it made me feel was loathing, not only towards you but internally as well.  It was *not* a pleasant experience and every time I see you I think of how repulsive it was and how much it made me detest myself.  My god Spike, I even went to the trouble of hanging up strings of garlic all around the room, including my bed and window frame!  I'm surprised you can't still smell it, I kept them up for a week at least."

Spike stiffened at the harsh assessment Buffy had made of their relationship and what he had thought was a bloody good shag.  He drew in a breath through his nostrils in preparation for a rebuttal, and his keen senses took in the faint scent of garlic which still lingered even after almost two months beneath the newer scents used to mask the odor and those which were uniquely Buffy.  His spine stiffened further in reaction to the knowledge that Buffy had been telling the truth.  She really *did* hate him and consider the time they'd spent together a mistake.  Spike could feel all the illusions he'd created around his relationship (if it could be called that) with the Slayer crumbling to dust along with his heart.  He should have known.  He never could manage to fall in love with someone who could and did love him back.  And even though it was pathetic and he knew it, he was love's bitch, what else could he do but try one last time to secure her affections?  "But," Spike started...

"No Spike," Buffy interrupted sharply.  "Just keep whatever pathetic plea you have to try and keep my non-existent affections you were about to spew.  I don't want to hear it and it's not going to change my mind so you might as well keep your mouth shut.  Just leave me alone.  I don't want to have anything to do with you *ever* again. You can still come around if you want because Dawn likes you and you're useful sometimes, but don't talk to me unless it has something to do with fighting evil or one of the other Scoobies.  Anything else you have to say isn't worth hearing."

Spike's attempt at mending the rift between them was effectively halted before it had even begun.  His face instantly froze into an arrogant mask to try and hide the hurt and anger seething within him.  He could not, however, keep it out of his voice as he said, "Fine then.  I don't know why I ever wanted to share something with a bitch like you.  I'll see you around, *Slayer.*" Her title was sneered in an incredibly derogatory manner, so that it was almost an epithet.  Spike spun around, his leather duster billowing out behind him from his action, and strode angrily towards the window, which he agilely leaped out of onto the tree outside.  He then regally stalked away, making sure that the Slayer saw nothing more than him walking away, not even looking back.  Buffy, unseen by Spike, turned away from the window before he was even out of sight, sighed with relief, and relaxed her tense posture.  She was glad that their confrontation was over and that it had gone better than she had been dreading.  Now if he'd only do as he said he would and leave her alone, she would be content.  He was just so irritating!  He never knew when to give up an idea...just look at how long he had fixated on plotting to kill her in ways which never worked out.  You'd think he'd give up already, but no, he continued to try to kill her until his Sire had gone of the deep end and tried to bring about the Apocalypse, which forced him to strike a deal with his mortal enemy in order to continue his existence in a fashion to which he was accustomed to. Still, Buffy wondered what Spike was going to do now that a relationship with her was no longer an option (not that it really had been before this) in his mind.  At that moment, Spike was headed towards the liquor store to buy enough whiskey and other varieties of alcohol to get himself properly pissed.  His next stop after that was, of course, his crypt, which he proceeded to destroy.

~Part: 2~

Willow was worried.  No one had seen Spike for at least three weeks, and what was more distressing was that no one seemed to *care* that they hadn't see him.  Xander and Anya were too wrapped up in each other to see anything else; Dawn asked about him every once in awhile, but hadn't even been to his crypt to see if he was there; Tara, when she was around, didn't even notice that he wasn't there; and Buffy actually seemed *happy* that Spike was no where to be seen, insisting that Willow should just "leave him alone, where ever he is" whenever she asked about him.  She was really starting to be concerned.  It wasn't like the blonde vampire to disappear for so long without telling anyone.  He normally leeched blood supplies off of someone (usually Willow since the Watcher had left) and bothered the Scoobies at least once a week, if not more often.  Willow had even been by his crypt one night, but he hadn't been inside. Instead, the interior of the crypt had been in complete and utter shambles, a fact that shocked Willow severely.  It looked as if a tornado or an enormous battle had taken place there, and since there weren't a lot of tornadoes in Southern California, Willow was leaning towards the battle theory (although, you never knew...it *was* the Hellmouth after all).

The state of Spike's crypt had so shocked Willow that then and there she had resolved to call Angel and ask him about Spike.  Willow suspected that maybe Spike had hung around so often because of Buffy...she remembered the looks he had directed towards Buffy after she was resurrected and how distraught he had been over her death. But that did not explain his disappearance, after all, Willow was well aware that Spike had had no opportunity to be around Buffy for the few months before he had vanished.  So with that theory out of the question, Willow was left with the untenable thought that someone had taken Spike and was holding him captive, perhaps they had tortured him or even killed him by now and she knew nothing about it.  That thought left Willow cold...she didn't want to see anything bad happen to the blonde British vampire, even if he did seem to get an inordinate amount of pleasure from ridiculing the gang at every opportunity.  Still, the thought was enough to make Willow's anxiety level and her determination to call Angel rise.  Willow hurried back to the house she shared with Buffy, noted that nobody was home, grabbed the cordless phone, and was already dialing Angel's number on her way up the stairs into the room that was hers alone since Tara left.

Willow impatiently listened to the phone ringing on the other end of the line as she closed and locked her door.  "Come on, come on," she muttered to the ringing tone.  "It isn't that late yet, there should still be *somebody* there."  Willow's short temper was pacified when someone finally picked up the phone.

"Hello, Angel Investigations," came Angel's smooth voice from the other end.

"Angel." Willow breathed a silent sigh of relief.  She hadn't been looking forward to talking to Cordelia, not even if it was just to ask where Angel was.  The animosity between the redhead and the ex- cheerleader had not diminished with time and distance, even though both of the girls had been through a lot since graduating high school.  Although they probably had more in common now then they used to and would actually get along and find a lot of common ground, the changes to both women were ones that were only truly visible in person.  So a phone or e-mail exchange was insufficient for either Willow or Cordelia to note the changes that had occurred and the old antipathy between the two continued to flourish needlessly.  But luckily Angel had picked up the phone instead, so she could ask, "Do you know where Spike is?"

"Spike?" Angel's startlement was clear, even over the phone.  "Isn't he still in Sunnydale?  What has that idiot childe of mine done now?"

"Oh Goddess, you mean you don't know where he is either?" Willow's tone was full of dismay.  "That means that no one knows where he is and I went by his crypt because nobody had seen him for at least three weeks and it was completely trashed and anything could have happened to him.  Oh Angel, I'm so worried!  He could be hurt or ashes or prisoner or tortured or... or... or..." Willow's worried babble and fertile mind had run out of options (or rather, her mind had too many gruesome and pessimistic options to contemplate and couldn't voice any of them anymore) and her speech trailed off as she waited for Angel to say something.  And he wasn't slow in responding either.

"Calm down Willow, he isn't dead," Angel said firmly.

Willow sniffled, the awful scenarios her mind had conjured having reduced her to tears, and asked, "How do you know?"

"I'd feel it if he died," Angel replied.  "As much as I wish we didn't sometimes, we have a special bond."  But the bond had been dormant, purposely ignored and closed, for a very long time. Something like death would be enough to disturb and re-awaken the bond and Angel definitely hadn't felt that.  However, smaller pains, like that of torture, whether emotional or physical, would not be enough to reopen the bond.  Because Willow sounded so concerned and because Angel knew that she wasn't the kind of person to worry to the point of bothering others unnecessarily, Angel did something he had had no intention of ever doing.  He deliberately reopened the bond that existed between Spike and himself.  The flow of information from the newly reawakened bond at first came in fits and starts and then became a steady stream.  And what that stream broadcasted to Angel shocked and appalled him.  The waves of depression, sorrow, and emotional anguish radiating from his childe through the bond were just astonishing. It was enough to make Angel convey his shock in his conversation with Willow (not that talking to the little redhead was ever a hardship).  "Willow," Angel said rather urgently, "I think we really need to find Spike soon.  It doesn't feel like he's being tortured, but the state of mind he's in would make it very easy for him to do something stupid...like greeting the sun one morning.  He's very depressed right now.  The emotional agony I'm getting from him is just...incredible.  I don't think Spike's felt anything this keenly in awhile.  It's as if his heart is broken, but he wasn't involved in any relationships in Sunnydale, was he?"

Willow had calmed down a bit with Angel's proclamation that Spike wasn't dead, but she felt her anxiety level shoot right back up again when he had clarified Spike's status like that.  She hesitated, giving the question the thought it deserved before saying, "No, I don't think so.  I mean, he sort of has a thing for Buffy, but he hasn't really had the chance to even get her alone these past few months, so I don't see how she could've possibly have done anything to upset him to the point where he'd be willing to kill himself."

Angel was stunned into silence.  And although silence and brooding was a frequent state for him, it was still difficult for him to imagine Spike and Buffy together.  What on Earth was his childe thinking to have fallen for the Slayer?  And what weird things had been happening on the Hellmouth for such a thing to have even been possible?  Angel was well aware of why *he* had fallen in love with Buffy, but his demon was another story entirely.  Angelus had hated the Slayer with a passion and had protested strongly every time he'd been anywhere near her.  That had, in fact, been part of Angel's attraction to her.  It was fun to pay Angelus back for the guilt and sorrow Angel suffered from daily by inflicting Buffy's presence on Angelus.  Spike, however, did not have the soul or the desire to inflict torture on his demon that Angel did, so what could have possessed Spike to do such a thing?  It didn't have anything to do with him, did it?  A desire to be close to something that his sire had found attractive?  Angel shook his head at that thought.  It was unlikely; after all, Spike hated him...didn't he?  Angel decided that it was more likely that Spike had just decided that if he wasn't going to be able to "get" the Slayer by killing her, he might "get" her another way...by screwing her.  Angel, however, doubted that those thoughts had been running through Spike's bleached blond head consciously.  There was no way that the pain Angel was feeling through the bond could have even existed if there hadn't been some genuine feeling on Spike's side at least.  Whether or not that feeling had been there at the beginning was doubtful, but it was something only Spike could answer.  Whatever the truth had been to start with, it was clear now that Spike not only had feelings, but that those feelings had been crushed into a fine powder because of *something* that Buffy had done.  Angel swiftly made a decision...Willow had been listening to silence on the phone for long enough as it was.

"Willow?  I'm coming to Sunnydale.  I can use the bond to track Spike once I'm closer.  I'll let Cordy and Wes know where I'm going and I should be there in a few hours, maybe less.  Where can we meet?"

"If what you say about Spike's mental state is true, then I think that might be a very good idea," Willow agreed.  "I assume you don't want to run into Buffy, so let's meet at my house.  I haven't been there in a long time, but my parents are never home and there's no cemeteries around there so there's no reason why Buffy would be around there either."  Willow looked at the clock.  "Let's meet there, say...9 o'clock?  Or do you want to make it a little later to give you more time to get here?"

Angel swiftly calculated how long it would take him to hold two conversations with his friends and how fast he could drive on the way there and said, "Yeah, that should be fine.  I think I still remember where your parents live.  See you in a few hours.  You'll be okay on the walk over there?"

Willow laughed, but was touched by his concern.  No one else had been worried about her walking anywhere in a long time...well, except Spike on rare occasions.  "Don't worry about me Angel, I'll be fine. I've been quite capable of taking care of myself, especially on such a short walk, for years now.  And I'll be sure to take a stake with me...happy now, *Dad*?"

"Yes, Little One," Angel conceded.  "As happy as I can be.  I'll see you soon."  And he gently hung up the receiver, moving to the lobby where he knew that Wesley was still working.  He was going to take the coward's way out and avoid talking to Cordelia.  He knew that by now she'd already gone home to be pampered by Dennis.  He didn't want to have to face the Seer's probing questions, however, so he was just going to notify Wesley and leave it to him to tell Cordy.  Wesley wouldn't ask as many questions and he would be able to get on the road to Sunnydale that much sooner.

He looked at Wesley's office, saw that the door was closed, and knocked.  "Yes?  Come in," came from the interior.  Wesley looked up from the stack of papers on his desk.  "Ah, Angel.  What can I do for you?"

"Willow called and I have to go to Sunnydale to deal with Spike," Angel said succinctly.  "I'm leaving now, it's urgent."

"Spike?" Wesley's tone was startled. "What sort of trouble could he possibly have caused in Sunnydale?  Doesn't he still have that chip in his head?  And why must you be the one to deal with him?"

Angel was almost sorry he hadn't told Cordelia instead of Wesley, he had just asked so many questions.  Still, maybe if he answered Wesley's questions patiently and swiftly he'd be able to leave that much faster.  "Spike hasn't caused any trouble, he's the one *in* trouble.  Yes, he's still chipped, and I have to be the one to deal with it because I'm the only one who can find him before he does something stupid."  When he saw Wesley's questioning look, he rather reluctantly added, "I'm his Sire.  We have a bond."  Angel thought that the less he said about the bond, the better.  He was reluctant yet to acknowledge that the bond still existed after all these years and how different their lives had been.  And the bond was still too fresh to be mentioned casually.  Just the mere mention of it was enough to flood Angel's senses again with Spike's emotions.  It had been too long since the bond was in full effect and Angel had forgotten how to manage the bond without shutting it down completely.  It was a skill that he was swiftly relearning however. Even Angelus was getting into the act.  He was just as eager to get to Spike as Angel was.  More eager, actually.  Angelus had always had a soft spot for William.  It was really much more than that; Angelus loved the little prick, annoying and rebellious though he was.  So the idea of his childe in pain was not one that Angelus cared for at all, especially if he hadn't been the one to cause it.

"I see," Wesley stated, comprehension immediately dawning.  "Well if you must go, you must go then.  I'll tell Cordelia in the morning when she comes in, shall I?  You'll have your cell phone, yes?" Wesley waited a second for Angel's nod of acquiescence. "Good.  I'll notify you if Cordy has any visions while you're in Sunnydale.  I'll also fill Gunn & Fred in on your journey in the morning when they arrive.  Give Ms. Rosenberg my regards."

Angel's posture relaxed slightly in relief.  He wasn't going to have to waste time explaining to Wesley after all.  He could leave now and be in Sunnydale before 9 pm.  He might even have time to drive around the town a little to see if he could get a rough idea of where to look when it was time to go meet Willow so they could find Spike together.  He headed swiftly toward the door, pausing only to make sure that he had his cell phone and his keys in his coat pocket and grabbing a sword in case of emergencies.

When Angel reached his car, he swiftly opened the door and made his way out of the city, heading towards Sunnydale at the fastest speed Angel thought was possible without attracting the ire of the local police.  He was looking forward to seeing the little redhead again, although he regretted that the only times he'd seen Willow since leaving Sunnydale for L.A. had been in dire circumstances.  First Willow had come to L.A. to give him the news of Buffy's death more than half a year ago and now he was going to Sunnydale in hopes of finding Spike before it was too late.  If he wasn't in time, this visit to Sunnydale could turn out to be more disastrous and painful than Willow's visit to L.A. the previous summer had been.  Still, he had missed her more than he had expected to.  The infrequent phone calls (and e-mails once Angel had gotten over his fear and distrust of computers) just hadn't been the same or enough.  Angel was hoping that he would be in time to save Spike from himself so that he could spend some time with Willow without having the pain of loss hanging over their heads.

In all honesty, neither Angel nor Angelus wanted to have to mourn for Spike either, so his reasons for wishing to save Spike were not as simple as merely wanting more time with Willow that wasn't tinged with sorrow.  Spike, although Angel was particularly loath to admit it, mattered to both him and his demon as well.  Spike's belligerent character was actually part of his charm.  Angelus had needed someone who challenged him at every turn in order to keep things interesting and Spike had been more than happy to oblige.  The separation that existed between Sire and childe was one of the things that pained Angelus most.  He had wanted to turn to William when he had first been cursed with his soul, but he had been too afraid of being rejected by his own childe to do so.  Additionally, the demon had been uneasy with the idea of seeming weak to his childe.  After all, he had been unable to bring himself to feed on human beings and at that point he hadn't been getting his supply from blood banks (which didn't even exist at that time in history) or butcher's shops, relying instead on the blood of rats he had caught.  Angelus had been ashamed of what he had been reduced to from his former glory, even though part of him was simultaneously abhorred by the acts that he had committed then.  It was a very strange thing to be both soul and demon in one body.  What the soul found completely repulsive the demon took great delight in.  It was almost worse than having multiple personalities.  At least with multiple personalities, one persona might be unaware of what the other was doing, but with the soul and demon sharing space, they both remembered things equally and were equally appalled by what the other did.

Since they were such opposites, there were very, very few things that both demon and soul agreed upon.  Two of them were Willow and Spike (although they disagreed strongly on what to *do* about Willow & Spike, they both agreed on their feelings for the witch and the vampire).  A third had proven to be the distaste both felt at the idea of anyone they considered "theirs" being hurt, in pain, or suffering and the notion that it was something which had to be fixed (of course, they frequently disagreed on *how* to fix these things. Angelus' solution almost invariably involved violence of some sort, the more gruesome the better.  Angel's solution to the problem varied considerably, however, depending on what the problem actually was). This sense of possessiveness had, surprisingly, extended itself not only to Willow & Spike, but to Wes, Cordy, Fred, and to some extent Gunn as well.  Angel considered them his friends, but the demon had found a sense of respect for the people of Angel Investigations and had come to consider them family.  They were *his* (okay, ours...the demon had to concede when the soul protested) and no one was going to take them away from him unless he allowed it to happen.

The fourth thing that the two residents of Angel's body had come to agree on, oddly enough, was a mutual dislike for Buffy.  Angelus' hatred for Buffy had always been present, of course.  Not even the soul flying from Angelus' body, freeing the demon, had been enough to make Angelus like her.  One would think that Angelus would have rejoiced at finally being free of the accursed soul and that he would have thanked Buffy and left, but his hatred for her hadn't been diminished by his freedom, instead it had only increased.  Angelus had despised Buffy all the more because she had been responsible for the soul forgetting, for one brief instant, all the pain and torture Angelus had caused for so long.  Angelus was furious that the soul had dared to forget his glorious deeds.  Not only had Angel dared to forget, but he had *slept* with the *Slayer*!  The Slayer!  His mortal enemy, sworn to kill all of his kind.  The sheer perversion Angel had perpetrated on the body they both had shared disgusted Angelus.  Not only had their body participated in the act, but Angelus had had to *watch* Angel make love to the *Slayer* from behind the ephemeral yet immovable steel bars of his cage.  The mere thought of it made Angelus shudder in revulsion.  There was only the soul and Buffy to blame for the horrendous act that Angelus had had to suffer through.  And since the soul was out of reach and unavailable to be tortured, the entire weight of Angelus' rage fell upon Buffy's shoulders.

Angel had come to dislike Buffy slowly over time.  The hundreds of years Angel had spent in Hell because Willow had performed the soul restoration after Acathla had been opened, banishing Angelus once more to his cage, but leaving Angel in his place to suffer the torments of Hell when Buffy was forced to kill him in order to close it and prevent the Apocalypse had been a big factor.  However, it wasn't until after Buffy had come L.A. to demand he stay out of Sunnydale and they had had the day that wasn't together that love turned to dislike.  He couldn't quite bring himself to hate her because of all the good she had done the world, but he didn't love her anymore.  She had been willing to sacrifice the world in order to keep him human so that she could have her perfect dream and perfect life.  That him being human was not what the Powers That Be had intended had made no difference to her.  Nor had the fact that without him as a vampire, the world would be doomed to yet another Apocalypse and that this one would not be averted, immediately plunging the world into an environment that was worse than Hell. Angel had been to Hell, he had no desire to see it repeated on Earth if he could prevent it.  And in this case he was eminently capable of preventing it.  So he had went to the Oracles and asked them to fix the events that had occurred so that he could remain a vampire and they had turned back time, taking back the day and erasing all memory of it from the mind's of everyone except Angel.  The Oracles had cleverly left him with his memories as a subtle, tempting lure of what *could* be if he continued to act as their champion.  Buffy's blatant selfishness that day, in refusing to accept that him becoming human was not what the Powers had intended just yet, had closed the book for Angel on the chapter of his life that included Buffy as a lover.  He could no longer ignore her faults and admire her only for her strengths.  And although Angelus only had the memory of that lost day through his access to Angel, he agreed with Angel on Buffy's behavior, creating the final point on which the two were of one mind.

Angel shook himself, surprised to see the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign (newly erected, although Heaven only knows why they bothered to continue putting it back up it was knocked down so often) flash by. He looked at the clock; it was a quarter to 9 pm.  He had made good time.  In fact, he had been so lost in his own ponderings that he didn't even really remember the drive to Sunnydale at all.  He was pleased that he had time to do a quick drive-around Sunnydale to try and pinpoint Spike's general location before he had to meet Willow. It should give him a good idea of where to look and that was important because time seemed to be of the essence.

Angel slowly drove around Sunnydale, letting the information from the bond flow through him; automatically compartmentalizing Spike's emotions in order to be free to concentrate on how strong or weak the bond was comparatively, as the strength of the bond increased with proximity.  There was one particular cemetery where the bond felt strongest.  That would be the first place they would check after he got Willow.  Actually, he turned again to look at the clock...he should be in front of her house waiting for her now.  Angel turned on his blinker and pointed his car in the direction that lead to the shortest way to Willow's parents' house.

~Part: 3~

Willow peered anxiously out the window watching and waiting impatiently for Angel to make an appearance.  She looked once more at the clock to check the time.  She didn't know what she was so nervous about...he wasn't even late yet.  Maybe it was just that she hadn't seen him in so long and that she was still very worried (and rightly so) about Spike.  It made her nervous, seeing someone again after such a long time, especially Angel.  He hadn't been a very close friend of hers when he'd been in Sunnydale, but he'd still been an important part of the team, outside of the fact that he was Buffy's boyfriend.  Seeing Angel under these circumstances just made it that much more difficult for Willow.  The only time she ever saw Angel seemed to be under strenuous circumstances.  This would be only the second time she'd seen Angel since his move to L.A., the only other time being when she went to L.A. to inform him of Buffy's death.  So many things had happened, both since he left and since she'd gone to L.A. the past summer.  They hadn't really discussed any of the things that had occurred either, other than Buffy dying, so if Angel was going to be around for awhile this time there was going to be a lot to talk about.  Willow wasn't even entirely sure if Angel knew she was a lesbian now.  She wondered how Angel would react to that information and to the fact that Willow was no longer a witch now.

Well...she sort of wasn't a witch anymore.  The whole magic issue was a confusing one for Willow.  With Giles gone and Tara essentially not speaking to her, she had no one to talk to about her magic.  No one who would understand what she was going through anyway.  Buffy was too wrapped up in her own concerns and Willow thought it would be unfair of her to burden Buffy with her problems too.  Dawn was obviously not a good person to talk to, after Willow had hurt her with that car crash.  Besides, although Willow loved Dawnie like she was her own little sister, Willow didn't feel like she could really confide in her.  She was just too young to really understand, and even though Willow had the memories of Dawn being around, knowing that Dawn wasn't really a person but a magical force shaped by some monks into a human being, she felt like it would just be impossible to ever really discuss things with Dawn.

There wasn't even really a question of talking to Anya about it. Although the ex-demon might've been able to provide some insight into her experience because of her millennia plus of being a vengeance demon, Willow hadn't even really considered talking to her about it. Even though Anya had been part of the Scooby gang for longer than Dawn had, her abrasive and blunt personality made it difficult for anyone to really talk to as a friend or really like.  She was only really tolerated for Xander's sake, and because she was very good at running the Magic Shop (her love of money and capitalism had seen to that).  She certainly wasn't anyone Willow would consider confessing her problems to, even if she could've been helpful.

Xander also wasn't really even considered when Willow was wondering who she could possibly talk to about magic.  For one thing, Xander knew nothing about magic and couldn't possibly relate to what she was going through.  Additionally, even though they had been best friends for the majority of their lives, these past couple of years their relationship had changed and they had grown apart.  They were still friends, but things like Anya (who Willow really couldn't stand.  She thought that Anya was a worse choice than Cordelia, but accepted her reluctantly because Xander obviously loved her), college, and Willow's relationships too had resulted in Willow feeling slightly uncomfortable in pouring out her feelings to him.  She still loved Xander as a best friend though.  They had been friends for almost as long as Willow could remember and a bond like that was not easily broken, no matter what changes the two had gone through.  Even given that fact, she knew Xander would not be able to understand what was going on with her.  She knew that she would be guaranteed Xander's unconditional support if she chose to discuss her problems with him, but that wasn't the only thing she needed at the moment.

In all honesty, Willow wasn't entirely sure that Tara understood either.  Tara had said that she wished she could believe that Willow wasn't going to do magic again and that she hadn't done magic for months.  But it was obvious from the doubt in her voice that she didn't trust Willow and that was something that hurt Willow more than anything else that had happened since Oz left.  Tara didn't understand how hard it was for Willow to not use her magic, since it was a problem she had never had to deal with and she seemed to have little sympathy for what Willow was going through.

Really, the only people (and that's using the term loosely) that Willow felt might understand who were still speaking to her and weren't in another country, were Angel and Spike.  Spike, because he understood how hard it was to be unable to do something that had been such an intrinsic part of his being.  In Spike's case, it was being able to kill people, but not only that.  It was not being able to feed properly that really bothered Spike.  So much of his identity was invested in being 'The Big Bad', in other words a kick-ass vamp who can do anything he pleases, that when he was essentially rendered powerless (at least when it came to human beings) he seemed lost, adrift without purpose.  This sense of being adrift was heightened by the fact that he had been chipped only shortly after losing Drusilla.  Dru had also been so much a part of what Spike identified himself with that when he lost both her and his ability to hurt people, it had been doubly difficult for Spike to deal with the loss.  She hadn't approached Spike to talk to him, however, because he seemed to have no time for anyone who wasn't Buffy lately.

Willow thought that Angel would be able to understand how she felt because he was intimately acquainted with the guilt that came from being the cause of things that had hurt other people.   Not only had he, as Angelus, been responsible for costing hundreds, if not thousands, of people their lives before he was cursed, but he had hurt the people in Sunnydale and killed Jenny Calendar during his brief time without a soul in the present.  It was hard enough trying to deal with the deaths of so many from the ancient past without having to look into the still-living faces of people he had terrorized in the not-too distant past after he had slept with Buffy.  This being taken into account, Willow felt as if Angel would have some idea of what she was going through, even though she didn't think he had had much experience with the wielding, or those who wielded, magic (apart from those Rom who had preformed the original soul curse).  But Willow hadn't felt like she could really talk to Angel.  She knew that he would understand, but they hadn't really been the best of friends before he'd moved to L.A. and the distance had only helped to increase Willow's feeling that she couldn't really confide in him.  She still considered him a friend, however, and hoped that maybe they'd have time to talk seriously while they were trying to find and fix Spike.  She wished that they could use this time to talk and get to know each other better and maybe then she could discuss her magic problem with him.  However, it was more important to her that first they find Spike and stop him from doing something desperate...like seeing sunrise.  They could deal with her problems later.  While they weren't fun, they also weren't life threatening like Spike's were.

Willow breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Angel's car pull up in front of her house.  "Finally," she muttered, even though he was only a minute or two late, and that could even be accounted for by her clock being fast.  She was glad for the respite from her unpleasant thoughts.  She went to the door, intending on going outside so that they could start searching for Spike as soon as possible.  Just as she reached for a light jacket to protect her against the night air, there was a knock at the door.  Willow shook her head ruefully.  She should have known.  "Damn vampiric speed," she said to herself, "It's not like I really had a chance of getting out the door before Angel got here."  She still couldn't help feeling a bit miffed about Angel's vampiric abilities though, so she didn't rush to open the door, taking a small portion of time to put on her coat and put a wide, welcoming, and sincere smile of greeting on her face.  She opened the door to reveal Angel's expectant face.  "Hey Angel, ready to go?" she asked, not really waiting for an answer as she stepped outside and closed the door to her parents' house.

Angel stared at Willow, struck dumb by the changes that had taken place in the redhead's appearance and demeanor since the last time he had seen her.  He realized that she hadn't exactly been at her best when she'd came to Angel Investigations last summer to inform him of Buffy's death, but Angel was shocked at her appearance.  If anything, she looked worse than the last time he'd seen her.  She was thinner, very pale, and had dark circles under her eyes.  But all of those physical changes were nothing compared to what Angel could see in her eyes.  Her eyes were haunted green pools of pain, guilt, and suffering.  The swirling emotions Angel could see in her eyes reminded him of the things *he* felt when he thought of his misdeeds.  The emotions there seemed to Angel like a strange mirror that echoed the feelings in the depths of his soul.  It made him wonder what could have possibly occurred in the past eight or nine months since he'd last seen her to make her eyes such a sad place to look into.  Angel was tempted to ask, but the emotions tugging at him insistently through the bond he had with Spike made him decide that now was not the time.  He could stay in Sunnydale awhile longer until he found out what was wrong with Willow, if the time he was going to end up spending in Sunnydale anyway wasn't sufficient to deal with both Spike and the redhead's problems.  That decision made in a fraction of a minute, he stepped aside so Willow could precede him down the stairs.  "Yes," he replied as he escorted her to his car.  "I think I've got an idea of where to start looking for Spike. I had a few minutes when I arrived and I drove around a bit.  There's a cemetery not too far from here where the bond feels strongest, we should begin there."

"Ummm...okay," Willow agreed as Angel opened the door to his car for her.  "Wherever you think is best is fine.  After all, you're the one with the built-in Spike radar."

Angel's lips quirked upwards in a half-smile as he held open the car door for Willow.  She slide into the seat and gazed up at him with an expectant look as he shut the door and made his way around to the driver's side.  "So.  What's with the convertible Angel?  I mean, it's not like you bought it to enjoy the wind through your hair as you cruise down the highway on a sunny day..."

Angel's lips tilted up further, turning the half-smile into a beautiful full-fledged smile as he gave a small laugh.  This was what he'd missed most about Willow.  She had an uncanny ability to say things that were just too funny (or bizarre) not to smile at.  She would ask the strangest questions at the oddest times and they would end up being amusing.  She could also put him in a better mood almost the instant she began to speak.  It was amazing to Angel that she could affect his moods so profoundly, and not only his moods, but his demon's as well.  Almost as soon as he'd laid eyes on Willow, his demon had started whispering to the soul.  Angelus' possessive feelings toward the little witch had manifested themselves in seductive whispers of 'Take her' and 'You know she belongs with us, she always has.'  These whispers were not as insistent as they could have been however, because Angelus was himself divided over his course of action.  He didn't know what he wanted to do more: take the witch or find his childe.  Spike won, temporarily, because of the emotions being broadcast through the bond and because of the fact that Angelus was of the opinion that the more individuals around him who belonged to him, the better.

Angel seated himself and turned on the engine before replying, "It's a guy thing.  It's a classic car, I've always wanted one, and it gives us a fraction bit more of time if someone's chasing us or we're in a hurry to get to our destination."

"Oh, I see," said Willow, nodded sagely.  "You're overcompensating."

Angel looked at Willow with an affronted expression on his face.  "I am not!" he protested hotly, "It's a classic!"

"Of course it is Angel," Willow agreed, the mischievous gleam in her eyes displacing their normal sadness.  It was clear that she was humoring the souled vampire.  "And the fact that this car is monstrous has absolutely *nothing* to do with your lack of physical attributes in certain areas."

Angel actually huffed in indignation.  "Of course it doesn't!"  He sighed, "Let's just go find Spike, shall we?"  Without waiting for confirmation from Willow, he turned around in Willow's driveway in order to go back the way he'd come without having to go around the block.

A few minutes later Angel parked in front of the gates to the Wilkins Memorial Cemetery, one of Sunnydale's most illustrious and oldest cemeteries.  It was fairly ironic that the cemetery had been built nearly a hundred years ago to honor one of Mayor Wilkins' supposed "dearly departed relatives" when he'd been alive for a century and hadn't had any relatives to put in the cemetery to begin with.  Further irony could be found in the fact that Mayor Wilkins had turned into a gigantic demonic snake at Willow's graduation whose sole purpose was to consume the town.  So putting up a "memorial" to anyone with the name of Wilkins wasn't the best idea Sunnydale had ever had.  But then again, Sunnydale wasn't exactly known for having brilliant ideas.  More undead residents, apocalypses, and demons than you could shake a stick at, sure, but brilliant ideas...absolutely not.  This is the town which considered additional streetlights because of 'crack-addict gangs' infestation to be a good thing when the only benefit the extra street lights had offered was better lighting for the vampires to see their prey by.

The redhead and the vampire got out of the car and went through the ornate iron gates (they were open of course, it was just easier for residents to get out that way) in search of the bleached blond they were both concerned about.  Angel concentrated intently on the strength of his bond to Spike while Willow looked around alertly for any danger in the form of newly arisen vamps. They were lucky and although several demons and vampires could have very well occupied the graveyard, they remained undisturbed while they searched.

The graveyard was a creepy place at night. Of course, Willow and Angel were so familiar with cemeteries after dark by this time that they took no more notice of the eerie stillness, the slight wisps of fog, and the spooky shadows created by the full moon than they would if they were walking through an idyllic park.  Instead, Angel and Willow concentrated on finding Spike and being alert for possible dangers.  They slowly made their way through the labyrinth of tombstones, funerary statues, crypts, and mausoleums.  Angel's profound focus on the bond as its lure increased and decreased depending on whether or not he was closer or further away from Spike began to pay off.  The tug of the bond began to steadily strengthen as Angel moved through the cemetery with Willow at his side.  He stopped finally in front of a large crypt with gothic ornamentation covering the outside, secure in the knowledge that his childe was inside.

Angel slowly pushed open the stone door to the crypt.  When the door was completely open, he stopped and stared, open-mouthed at what he had found.  Willow, too, began to enter the crypt from behind Angel, but when she was able to see into the interior she also stopped, staring slack-jawed in shock at the sight before her.

~Part: 4~

The sight, which aroused such shock and horror in both Willow and Angel, was one so miserable that words failed them.  The interior of the crypt was clearly one that had fallen into general disrepair and neglect.  The central tomb's granite was crumbling away at the edges and some of the main supports looked as if they were only a sneeze away from crashing to the ground, bringing the entire tomb with it. The dust was so thick on the mausoleum floor that every disturbance that had ever occurred was clearly delineated and told the story of every person that had ever set foot inside.  It was rendered even more morose and abandoned by the atmosphere that the crypt had acquired during the past century.  However, the most pitiable and neglected thing within the crypt itself was not a true part of the crypt at all.  It was Spike.

Spike was slumped against the tomb on the crypt floor in the dust and the squalor.  He had conveniently positioned himself so that the light from the sole stained glass window would hit him.  However, he was placed in such a way that the light would hit him slowly, causing his death to be painful in the extreme as every inch of his flesh was slowly burned away piece by piece.  This horribly painful way of committing suicide was not Spike's only way of punishing himself for loving the Slayer.

Spike's other foray into masochism was evident in his appearance.  He was emaciated to the point where it was painful to look at him. Willow had the odd thought that skeletons would be jealous of him if they could see him.  To have gotten that thin, it was doubtful that Spike had had a drop of nourishment since before that night he'd confronted Buffy nearly a month before.  It was painfully obvious that Spike was in a bad way.

After a period of timelessness, Willow and Angel got over their stunned shock at the sight of Spike's appearance.  Their next action was to simultaneously rush towards him, worried about his health. Willow, characteristically, punctuated her worry with a flurry of words.  "Oh my goddess, Spike!  What's wrong with you?  Where have you been these last few weeks?  I've been nearly frantic with worry!"

Willow's concern for Spike escalated when he was unresponsive to her queries.  She shared a troubled look with Angel, before asking, "Is there anything we can do for him?  He doesn't look too good."

Angel looked gravely at Willow.  His lengthy perusal of his childe had made it obvious what Spike was in need of soonest, but his health had deteriorated to the point that Angel wasn't certain that even mass quantities of blood would be of any use.  What surprised Angel the most, however, was that the demon hadn't taken over and forced Spike to feed.  Usually death by starvation wasn't even possible for vampires unless there were no humans or other available sources of blood for a very big radius.  Normally after a few days the internal demon inherent in all vampires would demand blood if not fed and would literally take over the mostly-human host, turning them into mindless, ravening creatures until its blood-thirst was satiated. One of the reasons that newly risen vampires and minions were so dumb and easy to kill was that they had less control over their demons, making their blood-lust stronger and less manageable.  This made them easier targets for the Slayer because their blood lust easily overcame any common sense they had when they were human.

"Blood," Angel finally said bluntly. "He needs blood.  A lot of it and as soon as possible.  Also as fresh and powerful as possible." He knelt down beside his poor tormented childe.  Without hesitation (and at the inner urging of Angelus), he swiftly bit into his wrist and raised the bleeding limb to Spike's lips.  Spike, in his nearly unconscious state, could not exert enough will over his demon to keep it from emerging at the scent of the fresh blood.  The fact that it was Sire blood was enough to make Spike's inner demon sit up and beg.  He immediately and automatically began feeding.

Willow watched as Angel's already pale coloration grew steadily paler until it was nearly translucent.  "Enough," she told him firmly, pulling his wrist away from Spike's fangs.  "You have to have enough blood left to still be able to function or you're not going to be any help to us."

The two friends waited anxiously for some sign of improvement in the third.  Although Spike looked better, he remained unresponsive to their entreaties.  He hadn't even exerted the effort to rescind his 'grrr' face for his more human guise.  Angel shook his head, a despairing look on his features.  "It hasn't helped enough," he said. "He needs more fresh, powerful blood than I can provide.  And to be honest, I'm not sure if bagged, even re-warmed would be enough to heal him at this point.  He's been starving himself for too long. I'm almost afraid that he'll crumble into dust if we try to move him."

At this information, Willow's eyes grew wide and thoughtful.  After a moment, her face transformed into an expression that could only be called resolve and she said, "He'll just have to drink from me then. No Angel," she insisted, stopping the incipient protest that she could see in Angel's eyes.  "This is the only way and I don't want to argue with you about it.  You can get us both back to my parent's house afterwards and we can get some more blood from Willy's after he's comfortable.  I don't know if he'll be able to bite me to drink though.  What with the chip and all."

"That problem is remedied easily enough," Angel said, vamping out. "I don't think he's conscious enough to feed without a wound being opened at this point anyway.  If you trust me enough to...?" he gestured vaguely towards her wrist.

Willow's resolve face softened.  "Oh Angel," she said, "Of course I trust you.  We may not have been the best of friends before you left for L.A., but I still trust you with my life.  I'm trusting you to make sure that Spike doesn't take too much and drain me, and I'm trusting you to get all three of us out of here safely.  You can bite me when you're ready."  She held her wrist out to Angel confidently and calmly with an assurance that startled Angel as much as it impressed him.

Angel morphed slowly into his demon face, not wanting to startle or frighten Willow after she'd made such a generous and stunning proclamation.  He gently held Willow's wrist in his hands as he bent his head, almost bowing reverently over her wrist.  He kept his face hidden as much as possible from Willow's gaze, not wanting her to see the nearly gleeful expression on his face.  Willow trusted him with her life!  Angelus crowed with triumph within him.  Their redhead was allowing them to bite her.  The thought of tasting her blood, no matter how briefly, was enough to send Angelus into paroxysms of pleasure.  It was something that Angelus had been dreaming of since almost the instant Angel had seen her in Sunnydale so long ago.  But, of course, Soul-boy had to ruin his fun by not listening to him.  He never would listen to the demon, even when Angelus was right about what was best for the both of them.

Angel bit into Willow's wrist, as carefully and gently as he possibly could, wanting to minimize if not prevent her from feeling any pain. He remained there a moment; savoring the small mouthful of blood he was unable to avoid taking from her when he punctured her veins with his fangs.  (Not that he had really tried to avoid taking it.) Willow's blood, even the small sample he had had of it, was indescribably wonderful.  The strong tastes of innocence and magic were perfectly spiced with hints of darkness and despair, creating a blood cocktail that was irresistible.  Angel frowned a bit when he tasted the sadness and despair in Willow's blood, wondering what could have created such conditions within the witch.

He reluctantly removed his fangs from her wrist and brought her bleeding appendage up to Spike's lips.  The demon within clamored for him to take more from the little redhead and to keep her for himself, not to share with his childe.  Angelus, although he cared deeply for his childe, was of the opinion that Spike was not in need of more blood, especially not if the blood belonged to Willow.  They were both his.  They were not to be shared, even between each other. Angel's worries about Spike, and the fact that the soul was in control, were enough to tip the scales in Spike's favor however.

Spike seemed to be having an easier time drinking from Willow than he had when he began to drink from Angel.  He was still largely unresponsive, the feeding automatic and impersonal.  When Angel saw that Willow was beginning to pale, however, he had to forcefully remove her wrist from Spike's fangs.  He carefully licked her wound closed, the natural clotting agent in his saliva aiding a swifter closure of the wound.  Angel watched Spike carefully for any sign of improvement.  He was heartened to see that Spike was beginning to look better.  He now looked solid enough to move, and Angel wasted no time in picking Spike up carefully, motioning for Willow to follow him as he made his way through the crypt door.

Willow wearily traipsed after Angel's retreating form.  She stayed fairly close to the tall vampire as he wound his way through the tombstones, making as straight a line as possible back to the car. She watched as best as she could for trouble coming from other sources, but it was hard because she was tired and the blood loss had made her cold as well as slightly dizzy.  In what was perhaps their first bit of luck ever in Sunnydale, the nasties had chosen to be in places other than this particular cemetery that night.  They were able to make it to the car unmolested.  Angel went through a brief internal debate about where to set Spike.  Lay him in the backseat or place him in between Willow and himself as he drove?  The benefits of Spike being close (it appealed to his demon) and warm between two bodies (here the demon inserted several lascivious images which Angel quickly squelched) as well as him being close enough to observe any changes, whether good or ill, quickly won Angel over to the front seat option.  He carefully placed Spike in the middle of the front seat, trying to be as delicate as he possibly could so that Spike wasn't jostled too much.

Willow walked around the front of the car, opened the door and slid in next to Spike, not waiting for Angel to come around to open the car door for her.  She was tired, exhausted really, but she was still independent enough to open her own car door, by golly.  She leaned against Spike, half-supporting him and half-being supported.  She was careful not to put too much of her weight on Spike's supine form. She didn't want to hurt him after all, not after all they'd gone through so far to try to get him healthy again.  Her eyes slowly closed, almost against her will, as she waited for Angel to start the car and get them all back home safely.  She didn't want to go to sleep, there was still Spike to take care of and baddies to watch out for after all, but she just couldn't seem to help herself.

Angel got into the car and turned the ignition.  Both he and his demon wanted their childe and the witch safely inside where they could watch over them and keep them safe.  Even though Spike was only in danger from a mysterious internal menace that seemed to have completely sapped him of the will to live, Angel (and Angelus) still felt that Spike only needed some time to talk things over in order to lose the suicidal urge he seemed to possess.  To do that, however, Spike needed someone he trusted to force him into talking about it. Spike was a great one for drunken binges and violence to express his pain, but often those solo endeavors only served to exacerbate the problem.  Spike tended to internalize a lot of his pain and anger, especially if the source of his pain stemmed from someone he cared for.  In many ways, that was how Spike had come into existence. William the shy, sensitive, "bloody awful" poet had become Spike, the tough, "Big Bad" vampire in part because of the demon, but more in reaction to Cecily's harsh words that he was "beneath" her.  William had taken that criticism to heart and had become almost the exact opposite of who he had been when he'd still had a heartbeat.

Angel had every intention of forcing Spike to confront and confess his problems.  He wasn't entirely certain that his childe would trust him though, given the rather checkered past the two shared.  Angel thought that Spike would be willing to confide in Willow if he didn't feel comfortable opening his heart to his Sire.  Willow was so caring and kind that it was almost impossible not to confide in her.  People felt compelled to entrust their secrets to her, she was simply that sort of individual.  First however, Spike had to get well enough to be able to speak.  He couldn't commend his secrets into Willow's tender care without first being able to verbalize them.

Angel pulled the car up in front of Willow's house, the drive from the cemetery already a forgotten blur.  "We're here," he said softly to Willow, not wanting to scare the redhead or disturb Spike. "Go and open the door for us, would you?  Spike will need an invite when we get there."

Willow nodded in sleepy agreement and made her way to the front door of the house she hardly even considered hers anymore.  She turned her key in the lock as Angel stepped out of the car.  Angel bent over and picked Spike up from the front seat.  He cradled the blonde vampire gently against his chest, minimizing Spike's movement as much as possible to prevent him from waking.  "Angel, Spike, come in," Willow said when the vampire reached the porch with his burden.

She held the door open for Angel so that his entrance into her house was as easy as possible.  Angel walked through the door, in a way that almost comically resembled a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.  The only thing that spoiled the illusion was the fact that Spike wasn't holding on to Angel, smiling and laughing as they went in.  He looked expectantly at Willow after she closed the door behind him and asked, "Where can I put him?"

Willow gestured towards the stairs as she said, "Up the stairs, first room on the left.  It's my parents' bedroom, but it faces north and there are heavy curtains on the windows so sunlight shouldn't be a problem.  My parents won't be home for...oh, months yet I'm sure, so we should be fine here for quite awhile."

Angel frowned a bit at this information, but headed up the stairs towards the bedroom she'd specified.  He was ambivalent about what she'd just told him.  He was pleased for Spike's sake that they would have somewhere to stay while he was recovering from his self-induced starvation, but he was angry that Willow's parents were so unfeeling towards their daughter.  He didn't have fatherly feelings towards Willow, but he was well aware that if he had someone as wonderful as Willow for a relative, he'd take the utmost care of her.  Her parent's apathy and complete lack of interest in their daughter was something that angered Angel as much as it puzzled him.  He couldn't imagine how anyone could neglect to see the wonderful qualities that Willow was comprised of.  For that matter, he couldn't understand how her parents had had the gall to essentially leave her on her own in a place like Sunnydale.  They surely had to be aware of the problems in the town, even if they thought it was merely gangs plaguing Sunnydale rather than vampires and demons.  But whether or not they were aware of the danger they had placed their only offspring in or not, they were still guilty of criminal neglect and Angel could never think well of them because of that.

Angel reached the specified place and opened the closed bedroom door.  He took in the decor of the room at a glance.  It was almost exclusively a masculine bedroom, with only a few subtle feminine touches.  These small touches, found mainly on the top of the dresser and from the hint of heels visible through the partially opened closet door, were all that gave away a feminine presence.  The entire room was done in dark tones, with hunter green and navy blue predominating amongst the dark wood furniture.  The large, four- poster bed was an oddly romantic touch for two people who didn't seem to have a drop of sentimentality in their blood.  At least, it was certainly absent when it came to family members.  There was nary a family picture to be found in the entire room.  No proud display of the family was placed upon the dresser or bedside tables like those that many a parent possesses.  Even with the bed, the room had an abandoned, empty feel, as if it was an impressive guest room in a hotel rather than a bedroom where two people lived, loved, and slept.  Angel carefully laid Spike down on top of the covers of the gigantic bed.  He lightly stroked Spike's hair in a rare gesture of tenderness towards his childe.  He looked at Spike quietly for a minute before going back downstairs where Willow waited.

Willow looked at Angel inquisitively when he came into the kitchen where she was pouring herself some juice.  She was surprised the juice hadn't expired yet.  Her parents must have picked up some groceries when they'd last been home.  She certainly hadn't been in this house recently.  It had been some time since she'd bought groceries here, between spending so much time at Buffy's and before that in the dorms.  But there had been a few groceries in the fridge, something for which she was grateful.  After donating so much blood to Spike, she desperately needed the juice to help replace some of the fluids she had lost.

"How is he doing?" she asked softly when her gaze caught his.

"A little better, but he still isn't awake and coherent," Angel replied. "Would you mind watching him while I go get supplies from Willy?  I shouldn't be long, but I'm going to need a lot of bags of blood to get Spike healthy again."

"Of course I wouldn't," Willow admonished gently. "I care about him too you know.  Go on, I'll go up now and watch him."

Angel nodded and turned around to go back to his car.  It would be faster if he drove to Willy's.  There was less of a chance of him running into other vampires and demons on the way and he could cut down on travel time.  Angel could move fast, like all vampires, but he wasn't faster than a car.  Especially when Sunnydale had so little traffic to interfere with his driving.  He leaped into the car, dispensing with the necessity of opening the door.  The car headed off towards Willy's at something faster than the posted speed limit. Angel was eager to complete his task; he wanted to return to his childe and the redhead as soon as possible.

Willow headed upstairs to her parents' room to begin her vigil at Spike's bedside, her glass of juice in her hand.  She settled comfortably into a chair she'd pulled up to the side of the bed, after turning on a lamp to dimly illuminate the dark room.  For ten minutes, she watched Spike intently, wondering how long it would take Angel to return.  At about the time she estimated Angel should be returning, Willow was pulled out of her internal musings by a movement on the bed.  She blinked to focus on reality and looked at Spike carefully.  His color was better and, as her gaze moved up his body, she discovered that his eyes were now open.  Spike was awake.

~Part: 5~

Spike's blurry eyes struggled to focus on his unfamiliar surroundings as he tried to make sense of what had happened and where he was.  His first thoughts upon awakening were, 'Oh bloody hell.  Some git went and saved me.  The bastards.  What did they have to do that for?  Why didn't they just let me die?!?'    He wasn't sure he could will himself to die again.  It had taken him a long time to get to that point and he didn't think he had the energy to do that a second time.  Also, the hunger of Spike's demon was so strong now that it was overriding all of Spike's wishes.  Everything Spike desired for himself personally was completely supressed by the overwhelming need for blood that his demon was screaming for.

Even though he had vampiric sight on his side, the dim light and his weakened state left him unable to see well the contents of the unfamiliar room he found himself in.  A flash of red to his left caught his eye, and he slowly turned his head, utilizing almost every iota of strength he'd conserved thus far just to accomplish the motion.  Red.  Of course she would be the only one worried enough about him to go looking.  Niblet would've probably looked too, he assumed, but no one would let her go out by herself to look. Everyone was over-protective of Dawn since the Glory thing, and although things had settled down a bit after Buffy came back, the car crash where she hurt her arm had caused everyone to become super- protective again.  'And of course, Buffy couldn't be bothered to look for me,' Spike thought bitterly. 'She was probably overjoyed that I wasn't around to remind her of what we shared.  It was a bloody load off of her mind that I wasn't in sight, not something to be concerned over.'

Spike decided that it was time to give his long-unused vocal cords a try and attempt speech.  "Red," he rasped.

"Spike," Willow replied calmly.  "How are you feeling?  Angel should be back soon with some blood.  He had to go to Willie's."

Spike absorbed the news of Angel's presence in Sunnydale with a sense of detatched shock.  Peaches was *here*?  Not only that, but he was here specifically for *him*?  Spike just couldn't believe it.  His Sire hated him, and Spike felt just as much hatred for Angel in return.  Didn't he?  Spike couldn't imagine anything that would bring Angel to his aid willingly.  Willow must have done or said something to Angel to make him come.  There just wasn't any other way that Spike could think of that would induce Angel to evince concern for his favorite childe.  Unless Willow was mistaken when she said Angel and Angelus, the true Angelus, was back.  Those were the only ways that Spike could possibly imagine that his Sire would come to help, not punish, him.  Still, he had to ask, "Why?  Why did you bring me back?  Why couldn't you just let me die?"

The obvious emotional pain in Spike's words caused Willow to be as gentle as possible in her response.  "You're my friend Spike, and I care about you.  I wouldn't let you stake yourself when you were so depressed about not being able to bite people anymore, and that was when I didn't even like you very much!  So I'm certainly not going to let you starve yourself and then go for a walk in the sun now that I..."  Willow found herself unable to complete her passionate reply to Spike's pain-filled queries.  She would simply be revealing too much of her inner feelings.  She just wasn't ready to do that yet. Maybe she'd be able to work up the courage to bare her emotions to Spike sometime soon.  But just as she was not ready to reveal her feelings, she had the feeling that Spike was not ready to hear them either.

To Willow, it was clear that whatever had been done to Spike, it had been something which had ripped him to pieces inside emotionally.  It couldn't have been anything physical because then he would have come to one of the Scoobies for help.  It must have been something emotionally destructive; something that had hurt him so deeply that he would rather seek true death than deal with his problems.  Willow didn't know if it was going to be possible to drag him back from the precipice of suicide that he'd been only millimeters away from going over.  She was going to do her damndest to try to pull him back, however.  Willow was more than ready to push all her problems aside to help a friend with what was bothering them.  In fact, she welcomed being able to forget all about the troubles in her life in order to be a rock for someone else to lean on.  Even if ignoring her problems only exacerbated them.  An outcome that was, in all probability, very likely if she chose that course of action.

Although Spike was intensely curious about what the end of Willow's incomplete sentence was, he simply could not gather the energy to voice his curiousity.  He sensed that Willow could only be compelled to complete the sentence after some serious poking on his part. While Spike was quite a determined individual even under the worst of circumstances (his resolve to starve himself to death, even in the face of the compelling hunger of his demon was ample proof of that), it took a tremendous amount of energy to accomplish the badgering that would be needed to coax out the rest of the unfinished sentence.

This was energy that Spike quite frankly did not have and what little energy he *did* have Spike could not spare to pursue the completion of something as unimportant as a sentence.  Even if this sentence (although Spike couldn't possibly realize it) would have been one of the few ways to pull Spike far, far away from the brink of death that he was teetering on.  It was a great irony that the one time Spike did *not* chase after the answer with more determination than a dog after a fox was the one time that the answer could have been truly worth something to him.  Normally when he baited people into responding to him, it was over something stupid and trivial.  But this time, this one time when the response was so important, Spike chose to let it go, delaying the inevitable unveiling of Willow's feelings for a later date.  Which was unfortunate, Spike could probably have benefited from hearing about Willow's feelings from her.  Whatever the possible outcomes of Willow's secret being revealed would have to be put aside for another time, however, as Spike lacked the energy to pursue it, and was about to run out of opportunity to do so as well.  Angel was coming up the stairs.

~Part: Six~

Angel climbed the stairs swiftly, anxious to see how Spike was faring.  He was tempted to go up the stairs slowly to give himself time to think, but the impatience he was feeling and the warm human blood that was cooling even as he climbed urged him upwards.  He knew Spike was awake, courtesy of the bond, and given Spike's condition when he'd left for Willie's, he wanted to get more blood into Spike as soon as possible.  He was justifiably worried about Spike's physical health.  He knew that Spike's emotional state was exceedingly fragile, but he thought that between Willow and himself, that they could fix his emotional scars.  That is, *if* he was still alive (undead) to be fixed.

Still, even with all the reasons why he should be with Spike at that very instant, he couldn't help but pause for a moment to stare apprehensively at the closed door in front of him.  He had no idea why Willow had chosen to close the door behind her when she'd gone up to the room Spike was currently occupying.  Perhaps it had been nothing more than an automatic gesture on her part born of years of carefully shutting her bedroom door to hide her actions, first her hacking and then her Slayerette duties, from her parents in the off- chance that they'd actually notice or care if they did.  Whatever the reason she had closed the door, it now provided Angel with a perfect surface on which to focus his gaze as his fears rose from deep in the recesses of his brain and burst into the forefront of his mind to occupy his attention.

His fears and worries with regards to Spike circled and preyed on Angel's mind like lions that have scented a wounded zebra, with each circle bringing them that much closer to the kill.  Each reason Angel conjured and each bad memory he recalled served to reaffirm exactly why he had absolutely no right to expect Spike's forgiveness, friendship, or anything other than his hatred and contempt.  The self- flagellation Angel was subjecting himself to served only to increase his insecurities and doubts, cutting into his meager self-confidence like millions of tiny knives and utterly crushing the tiny flame of hope he'd nurtured that one day his childe would be able to forgive him for the pain and humiliation Angel had heaped upon Spike's head.

These few moments of reflection had left Angel feeling incredibly miserable and even more reluctant to enter the room than ever. However, he felt an obligation to take care of his emotionally distraught childe.  After all, Angel was certain that somehow Spike's nearly successful suicide must be his fault.  If he hadn't left Spike after he was first cursed with a soul then Spike would not have fallen into such despair because Spike's abandonment issues would be nonexistent.  Without Angel's first and, he was sure, most devastating, abandonment of his childe, Spike would be in a very different place than his current state.

Angel was also aware that his abandonment of Spike had been not only physical, but emotional as well when he had taken the drastic measure of breaking the Sire/Childe bond.  Such a serious action as a total breaking of the bond was normally only done under the most extreme of circumstances.  Usually it only occurred when either one of the two vampires involved in the bond died or when the Childe did something so completely contrary to the few rules of vampire conduct that the Sire felt he had no other choice but to break the bond in order to signify how far beyond the pale the Childe had gone.

Although Angel felt an obligation to aid Spike due to the guilt he, quite correctly, had for his part in creating Spike's emotionally fragile state, there were other reasons for his willingness to aid Spike as well.  He still had feelings for the caustic blond vampire, even after all of the years they'd spent apart and on opposite sides of the eternal struggle between good and evil.  "Oh, who are you trying to kid?" Angelus chimed in nastily in Angel's head.  "You know that you spent most of those years hiding from your true nature and subjecting both of us to your incessant 'oh woe is me' attitude.  You fed us *rats* for Satan's sake, trying to punish us both when you weren't starving us of what we absolutely need to survive.  Take your sanctimonious bullshit and shove it down someone else's throat. Don't bother me with your internal whine when you know full well that our William would've accepted us no matter what had been done or how we'd been altered.  But no, *you* thought it would be best to keep your loathsome presence as far from *my* precious Will as possible. Now get your sorry arse in there and stop staring at the damn door! He could fade away while you stand here and flagellate yourself and torture me with your damned brooding."

The unexpected pep-talk, as well as the reminder of just how unstable Spike's condition really was that Angelus had provided, finally spurred the reluctant Angel into opening the closed bedroom door.  He took a moment to marvel at the unusual and beautiful scene before him.  The two individuals he cared for most in the world were together (something that made Angelus cackle with glee and triumph in his head) in this room before him.  But while that fact made Angel (and Angelus) silently rejoice, the picture simultaneously broke his heart.  They looked so...broken to his observant eyes.  Spike still looked excessively frail, thin, emaciated, and so pale that he put even the bright white of the moon to shame.  Even so, his current state was a thousand times better than it had been when he and Willow had first found him.

And Willow, his beautiful, sexy, intelligent, and wonderfully giving redhead, appeared to be faring little better.  His sharp eyesight picked out the changes in Willow's appearance despite the poor illumination.  The dark circles under her eyes were so pronounced that they were closer to a 12-piece luggage set complete with a free travel bag than the simple bags that people were normally talking about when that phrase came to mind.  Her eyes themselves lacked the sparkle that intelligence, innocence, and curiosity usually brought to them. The obvious lack of peace when added to the look of pain and loss in her eyes made Angel feel torn between fury at the unnecessary harshness and unfairness of Willow's life so far and a desire to protect her from the world; to cherish her and shelter her so that she could heal and so that nothing else could/would ever harm her again.

His fierce desire to protect his loved ones from the woes of the world was enough to propel Angel completely into the room.  However, this desire was by no means the only feeling burning in his breast. Internally he was fighting a fierce storm of emotions ranging from elation to despair to the ever-present guilt, but his face was a calm, blank mask. His time as Angelus served him well in this rare instance. Angelus was a consummate actor and was able to assume almost any facial expression he cared to on command in order to facilitate whatever devious and Machiavellian plans he had in his head. This long-perfected skill of his was something that Angel needed to draw on now in order to keep his internal turmoil a secret. He knew that Willow, at the very least, would note his distress and probe until he gave in and told her about his inner strife. And if there was one thing he didn't want at the moment, it was Willow's piercing gaze delving into his innermost being and lancing the boil of guilt and pain festering there. Spike's pain and needs were more important than his own, especially given the fact that while his feelings could always be dealt with at a later time, Spike's could not. If they did not take care of his needs first, he might not be around other than as a pile of dust in the bed to be swept up.

Angel projected his very best semblance of calm, control, and confidence into his manner and speech as strode into the room, his gaze on Willow's bowed head as he softly asked, "How is he?"

Willow looked up from her contemplation of Spike in surprise at Angel's words.  'Damn vampires, why do they always have to be so sneaky?' she thought with a combination of annoyance and relief.  At least Spike wouldn't insist on the completion of her sentence now.  "He's better...I think," she answered, "Physically at least. He's awake now.  Did you get the blood?"

Angel held up the large styrofoam cup he'd microwaved before coming upstairs as evidence in the affirmative.  "The rest is in the fridge downstairs if we need more," he explained.

He came to a stop in front of Spike's supine form on the bed. He removed the lid on the cup, bent down, and brought the edge of the cup up to Spike's stubbornly and firmly closed lips. "Drink," he commanded in a gentle yet stern tone. Seeing Spike's obstinate countenance remain unyielding, a low growl escaped his control and rumbled out of his throat. "Drink," he demanded again. "Drink or I'll force it down your throat in the most unpleasant way possible."

Spike's expression remained consistently set and rebellious; even as he fought both his demon's desperate desire for sustenance and the ingrained imperative to obey his Sire that all childer were created with.  It was a testament to the amount of willpower Spike possessed that he was able to withstand both of these extremely powerful forces after the trying ordeals he'd been through lately.  The fact that he had any willpower left at all was a minor miracle in and of itself. Choosing to utilize the tiny spark of willpower he had to defy his Sire probably wasn't the smartest decision Spike had ever made, however.  But then again, no one had ever accused Spike of consistently making rational and logical decisions either.

Upon seeing his childe remain immovable in the face of his commands, a bolt of anger tinged with amusement and irritation shot through Angel.  He was furious at Spike for defying him, yet he couldn't help but be amused.  Angelus was well aware that Spike's defiance was a defense mechanism in addition to being a trait that was simultaneously annoying and amusing because he knew that Spike's defiance was laughable as Angelus always won in the end.  Angel was actually relieved to see that Spike had the energy to express any defiance, no matter how small.  It was an indication of hope and improvement in his condition, something Angel was almost desperately thankful for.

Still, it was not something to be tolerated.  Just as Angelus always won in the end, Angel felt a need also to win and prove his dominance over his Childe.  Spike *would* be drinking the blood that Angel had acquired for him and that was final.  As he was pondering how to properly punish and feed Spike at the same time, Angelus chose that moment to whisper a delightfully devious plan in his brain.  Angel smiled as a spirit of mischievousness more appropriate to Angelus than Angel overtook him.  'Yes,' he agreed internally, 'that sounds perfect.'

^~Part: Seven^~

Willow observed the exchange between Spike and Angel in silence.  She thought briefly about chastising Angel for threatening Spike when he was so fragile, but decided against it almost as soon as the thought came into her head.  Angel would never *really* hurt Spike.  He'd been so insistent on helping him so far that it seemed silly to Willow that he'd try to hurt him now.  Sure, they had unresolved issues that they needed to fix, but they seemed to have been having a weird love/hate relationship going for awhile now, so that was really nothing new.  She decided that she wanted to continue watching avidly until Angel did something that she considered objectionable.

She continued to watch as Angel's brown eyes briefly flashed gold, a light of unholy mischief in his eyes.  He leaned closer to Spike's face, his large form completely dwarfing and dominating Spike's prone one.  He pressed the cup against Spike's lips for a moment more, and then shifted the cup away from Spike's mouth (simultaneously shifting into his demonic visage) in order to make room for what he intended to do.

He swooped down and firmly pressed his lips against Spike's, causing the younger vampire to gasp in shock, which was exactly what Angel had planned.  Taking advantage of Spike's surprise, Angel sliced his tongue with his fangs and slipped it between Spike's slightly parted lips.  Spike was unable to resist the siren's call that was Sire's blood and sucked eagerly at the nourishment he craved above all other that was flowing from the jagged wound.  After a moment, Angel reluctantly drew back from Spike's tempting lips and pressed the brim of the styrofoam cup against Spike's lips as a substitute for his own.  Spike was too deep into the feeding euphoria to notice the difference immediately and consumed the reheated human blood with equal enthusiasm.  By the time he noticed the differences in quality, flavor, and strength, his demon was firmly in control and needed the sustenance too much to care and Spike didn't have the will to force himself to stop.

Angel rocked back slightly on his heels, a satisfied expression gracing his normally stoic visage.  Inside him, Angelus smirked in equal satisfaction.  He'd gotten to taste his Childe's sweet lips again and he was sure that Spike, given how he currently felt about his Sire, had not enjoyed it anywhere near as much as he had. Moreover, he'd had the bonus of essentially coaxing Spike into submission to his will.  All in all, it had been a good minute and a half and Angelus was gloating internally in an entirely obnoxious way that had half of Angel wishing he could punch his demonic alter ego and the other half of his soul gloating along with him.  'None of that now, brood-boy,' Angelus sneered internally, 'No ambivalent feelings for you boyo.  We don't really want *another* personality in here with us.  Then we'd *really* be screwed up in the head and they'd have to lock us up...in a *white* room.'  Angelus shuddered internally in horror and loathing at the thought of being constantly surrounded by such an annoyingly pure and bland color.

Angel, surprisingly enough, shuddered as well.  Bright, light colors were neither being's idea of a suitable fashion choice.  Angel favored black almost exclusively and while Angelus was a bit more diverse and sensual in his color/fabric choices, preferring dark colors such as navy and burgundy in fabrics such as silk and velvet, white was *not* a color he chose to wear under any circumstance.

Willow was rather shocked by Angel's actions herself.  She found it hard to believe that Angel smoochies was *punishment* in any sense of the word.  Actually, it had looked kind of...nice and sweet, in a weird demonic way - what with the grrr-faces and all.  In fact, Willow found herself feeling envious, but she wasn't entirely sure whom she was jealous of.  She was jealous of Spike because she wanted Angel lips too, but she was also jealous of Angel because he had just had Spike smoochies.  She felt herself begin to pout a little because she wasn't going to get what she wanted and immediately admonished herself internally for it.  'Bad Willow!' she scolded herself, 'What are you thinking, lusting after Angel smoochies?  He would never look at you that way.  You're his *friend* and nothing more.  He doesn't even know that you exist as anything other than Buffy's shadow.  Stop thinking about him like that!  It's obvious he must have a thing for Spike.  And what about Tara?  Aren't you supposed to be trying to get her back?'

They were all good questions.  They didn't change how Willow felt about not getting either Spike or Angel smoochies (preferably both if she was being honest with herself), but they were good questions nonetheless.  Especially the last two about Tara.  She loved her girlfriend and wanted her back...didn't she?  Until about two minutes ago, her answer would have been an unhesitant and firm Yes! (with exclamation point for emphasis and exuberance of course), but now she was no longer so certain.  Her ex-girlfriend seemed to have little faith in her and had left her at a time when she had really needed someone to lean on.  Willow wasn't sure that she could trust her mind, body, heart, and soul to someone who left her when things got rough or when they had personal problems that they didn't feel it would be right to ask their partner to deal with like Oz had.

When she was honest with herself, Willow realized that her relationship with Tara was something that would never be mended.  She still cared for the shy blond witch, but their love was something that could never be regained now that the deep trust between the two had been shattered.  Although she knew this, it was not information Willow particularly relished confronting.

Willow was, at heart, a deeply insecure person with regards to her ability and right to be loved for who she was and desperately needed to be around people who cared for her and for whom she cared.  Her parents' neglectful attitude had caused her to form deep and lasting bonds with a select few individuals, and those individuals she chose to befriend she hung on to with something almost akin to desperation.  This was why she was always so devastated whenever any of the people she cared for left in anything resembling a permanent way.  Jesse's death had been bearable only because of the new friendship she found with Buffy; Ms. Calendar's death had been rendered tolerable for her only by concentrating on Buffy's problems and on finding a way to bring back Buffy's love and Willow's friend - Angel; and on and on.  Each time Willow suffered a loss - be it through death, or the person's own decision to leave - Willow survived it only by focusing all her energy elsewhere and with Oz's departure even that had not worked successfully.

For the first time, Willow realized that both Angel and Spike had become individuals she cared for deeply who she did not wish to see harmed or out of her sight for long periods of time.  While she had a suspicion that Angel had snuck into her heart as a friend-by- association years ago, he now had full friend (if not more) status in his own right.  What surprised her was the fact that Spike had also been relegated to the category of friend-if-not-more.  Spike was so abrasive, so determined not to care (especially about some pansy wankers who insisted on going about doing *good* and preventing the evil and mayhem he really preferred) that it was shocking to Willow that she liked him at all.  But somewhere between being kidnapped by him in high school, the chip being implanted in his head and him coming to the Scoobies for help, and now with him lying on her parents' bed looking pale, wan, and devastated, Willow had come to consider him as someone she'd give her life for.

Willow came out of her internal musings with a start; Spike had gained quite a bit of his strength back from the infusions of Sire and human blood and had found his voice again.

"You couldn't you leave well enough alone could you, you bloody pillock," Spike hissed venomously. "Why couldn't you have left your great ruddy nose out of this and let me *die*?"

Angel took the questions calmly, being careful not to show the wince of pain Spike's words produced as they struck home and wounded him deeply.  His Childe actually thought he'd let him die?  William would have never believed that before the soul and the fact that he obviously believed differently now was an unexpected blow.  He accepted it as just one more item to work out in his relationship with his Childe and was able to respond to Spike's accusations without taking offense, difficult though it was to do so.  He wasn't quite ready to reveal the real reason for his presence in Sunnydale and his recent actions; however, so he offered the first facile excuse his mind came up with instead.

"Willow asked for my help in finding you so I came down from Sunnydale to aid her in her search.  She was worried about you," he explained softly.

Surprisingly, Spike felt a keen sense of disappointment in Angel's response.  He hadn't really expected his Sire to say that he was here specifically for himself (and wasn't really sure he'd believe Angel if he did), but some small part of him had desperately *hoped* that that was exactly why Angel was in Sunnydale.  'O course 'e ain't here for *you*,' the voice in Spike's head sneered. 'You bloody fool. What were you thinking?  Your real Sire despises you because you're such an ineffectual git; why would he come for you?  He has every right to hate you; you're not even a *real* vampire anymore...you fell for the sodding *Slayer* for Christ sake!  No *real* vampire would ever do anything other than toy with and kill the Slayer.' Spike agreed with the voice in his head, but he was torn between being angry and being depressed.

Somewhat uncharacteristically, Spike's anger and mixed emotions came out in a storm of tears.  "Well, that's just par for the course now innit?  You didn't come back for me; you never come back for me.  You left me, Dru left me, Buffy left me, hell...even that stupid bit Harmony left me and she barely has the brains to leave her teeth in her prey long enough to feed!"

Willow's heart went out to Spike.  It was so hard for her to see him crying and in pain when he was normally so tough and sarcastic in his appearance to the uncaring world.  She couldn't stand it, she *had* to comfort him.  "Shhh," Willow admonished him, taking his still fragile form into her arms and beginning to rock him.  "It's okay. We're here now and I promise that you're never going to be alone again.  Right, Angel?"  She looked towards Angel for confirmation, a pleading expression in her eyes.

Angel looked at Willow, wondering if she realized the full extent and gravity of making a promise like that to Spike.  Promises and oaths were very serious things indeed to a demon.  Especially when there was a blood bond of any kind between the demon and the entity doing the promising.  Vampires were governed by a strict set of ingrained laws that had nothing to do with conventional human laws and morality.  One of the most binding and sacred precepts of vampires held that oaths and promises given between those who had shared blood were to be upheld at almost all cost and were to be broken only with the severest of penalties or under the most unusual of circumstances.  Although Willow was unaware of this rule, the fact that she had given blood to Spike made her promise more binding than any human law.  She would be obligated from this time forward to ensure that Spike had companionship until her death.  That is, if Spike accepted and completed the ritual by giving her his blood.  At the moment, the oath was only half-formed and not completely binding.  Even promises sworn before the blood-bond was fully consummated were considered legitimate as long as the promise was given after the bond had been initiated.

However, Angel could see no reason why Spike wouldn't complete the bond and every reason why he would.  The opportunity to have someone of his very own would be irresistible to Spike.  Spike needed to be needed; it was as simple as that.  He didn't do well without companionship of some sort, be it friend, lover, Sire, or all three. As soon as Spike was healthy enough, it was a near-certainty that Spike would complete the oath-binding and tie Willow to him for the rest of her life, which would perhaps stretch into eternity if Spike ever got the chip out.  Now the only question was, what was Angel going to do about it?

~Part: 8~

Angel thought over his options carefully.  He had to answer Willow *somehow*, but what was he going to say?  If he agreed with Willow's promise not to leave Spike alone then *he* would be bound by the same promise, only in a different way.  The bonds between Sire and Childe complicated the blood oath quite a bit.  Because of the frequency of blood exchanges between Childer and their Sires, it was unfeasible for carelessly stated promises to be upheld for what could possibly be eternity.  So, promises between Childer and Sires were only considered half binding, much like the one that currently existed between Spike and Willow.  The additional step required to make the oath completely binding was a small ritual that demonstrated the sincerity and good faith between Sire and Childe to keep the promise given.  If he agreed with Willow's promise, what would Spike think? How would he react?  How would he feel if the ritual was performed? How would he feel if the ritual was *not* performed?  If he promised, would Spike assume that Angel intended to perform the ritual and be happy, or would he just assume that Angelus was playing a sadistic game with him and slide further into his depression?

Angel's indecision was further heightened by his own fears and insecurities.  He desperately wanted to re-establish his relationship with his Childe, but was terribly afraid of the rejection and scorn he was almost certain to receive when he tried to do so.  In the end, however, wasn't it worth the risk?  Did it matter if Spike reacted negatively to his promise as long as he intended to keep it?  He could always work on convincing Spike of his sincerity after he performed the ritual.  And it's not as if having to stay with Spike & Willow would be a *hardship* after all...except for the danger they represented to his soul.

Angelus whispered seductively in his mind all the while he was debating over his decision.  'Come on; agree...you know you want to. You'd be helping your childe and you'd get to spend time with Willow.  Come on.... live a little.  What harm could it do?  You can make sure this way that both of them are safe.  You're only doing it because it's what's best for them.  Come on...give in.'

Angelus' alluring persuasion wore down what little resolve Angel had accrued since the sudden reminder of his soul's fragility.  Not that there was all that much to begin with, but what had been there was gone.  That left only one thing: for Angel to verbalize his decision.

Angel turned to Willow with solemn eyes and then focused his weighty gaze on Spike's pale form, hoping to convey his sincerity and the importance of his answer to both of the room's occupants.  He especially wanted to assure Spike of his good intentions, even if Spike wasn't going to believe him.  His face was composed and earnest, his eyes held the inner calm and peace of coming to a decision as he said, "Yes, you're right Willow.  Spike doesn't have to worry any more about being alone ever again.  I promise as your Sire by the bonds which hold us, the blood we share, and with everything I am that you will never lack for companionship while I am on this Earth."  It was the closest he could come to the words of the ritual without actually performing it right now when Spike was still so frail.  He desperately hoped that it would be enough.  It simply *had* to be enough for now.

Spike was stunned.  He thought that he had to be hearing things. Surely, Angelus hadn't just sworn never to leave him.  Willow's declaration hadn't surprised him very much.  After all, the chit didn't know any better, now did she?  Not that he didn't intend to take her up on her promise, that is.  He had every intention of exploiting the blood oath to his advantage just as soon as he felt up to it.  When the binding was complete, he would have something that was purely *his*.  And no one: not Angelus, not Dru, not the Slayer, would be able to take Willow away from him.  Her own vow made that impossible.  At this thought, a flash of purely possessive lust ran through his gaunt form.

However, it was Angel's promise that had rocked him to his core. Angelus knew exactly what he was promising and with a wording like that, it couldn't have been a mistake.  The only way he could've gotten closer to giving a blood oath was if Angel had performed the promise ritual while he lay there helpless on the bed.  With Angel's words, the faintest glimmer of hope began to shimmer in Spike's heart.  Maybe this time would be different and his Sire would stay. Things weren't the same as they were the last time Angelus had left him.  They were both different vampires now: both had special impediments that prevented them from being like the rest of the vampire population.  They were both semi-involuntary outcasts from vampire society (not that they were missing huge vampire balls or anything) who also had little in common with the oblivious mortal world surrounding them.   A relationship with his Sire couldn't hurt his social status in the vampiric social system, even if he did have a soul.  Spike guarded the new sliver of hope in his heart carefully.  He refused to let it grow without further proof of Angel's good intentions.  He'd been hurt too many times to let Angel back into his life easily.

Willow breathed a sigh of relief.  The tension in the room was thick enough that a chainsaw would be more appropriate to try to cut it rather than a paltry, wimpy knife.  She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened.  She'd only been trying to comfort a friend in need, as she always did, and had looked to Angel for confirmation that they weren't going to leave Spike alone to sink back to the painful depths of despair and depression that he had obviously been occupying. Angel's response, however, had seemed almost...ritualistic, as if it carried a much deeper meaning behind it than the mere words implied. Willow resolved to ask Angel later about it though.  For now, it was enough to see that they were going to try to get along and that Angel was going to help Spike get better.  The little details weren't as important as the end goal at the moment.

"Well," she said brightly, shattering the tension in the room like a ball thrown at high velocity through a window, "I'm glad that's all settled.  I think you two probably need some more blood.  Angel, you've given a lot today and Spike can always use more blood with as ill as he's been.  So I'll just go down and get that, alright?"

Angel nodded in agreement, even though he didn't really want to be alone with Spike right now.  His emotions and insides felt like they'd been scraped raw, stretched to their limits, and twisted. Still, he didn't want to leave Spike after such an important declaration.  He'd only take it as evidence that Angel had been insincere when he promised and that he intended to leave as soon as possible.  "That sounds like a good idea Willow," he said. "Why don't you go do that?"

With one last lingering look at Spike on the bed and Angel standing nearby, Willow went to go get the blood to insure that the two most important vampires in her life would remain strong.

As soon as Willow had cleared the doorway, the window of tension returned, not only repaired, but now double-paned with a special clear coating to make sure that the glass stayed in the window even if a ball was thrown at it again.  The same thought ran through the two remaining occupants of the room: 'What could they possibly say to each other now?'

Willow made her way down the stairs, pondering the recent events and the emotional outpouring that had happened in the bedroom upstairs. She still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about everything just yet, but she was willing to do something she'd rarely been capable of doing and simply wait and see how everything turned out.  For once, Willow was going to damn set plans and go with the flow to see where it took her.

And right now, the flow was going in the direction of the phone in the kitchen so that she could call Buffy and make sure that she wouldn't worry if she didn't see Willow for a few days.  Willow didn't want Buffy to think that she'd gone off to secretly practice magic or anything.  Her friends had enough trouble trusting her nowadays as it was.  Not that she was really going to tell Buffy the *truth* about why she was staying at her parents' house for a while, but she wasn't going to be here doing magic right and left so she wouldn't be *completely* lying.

Willow reached the phone mounted on the kitchen wall and dialed the number she knew almost better than she knew her own.  The phone rang only once before an impatient voice on the other end asked, "Hello?"

"Hi Buffy, it's me," said Willow. "I didn't wake you up or anything, did I?"

"No, no, it's fine," Buffy reassured her.  "I just got home from patrol.  What's up?  And why are you calling?  Aren't you supposed to live here?"

"Actually Buffy, that's why I'm calling.  I'm at my house.  I'm going to stay here for a little while.  I think I need some space to myself for a little while.  My parents asked me to check in on the house every once in awhile and I haven't done it for a long time.  Besides, it's just too hard to be in that room all the time.  Too many painful memories, you know?"  Willow's voice became wistful and sad.

On the other end of the line in the Summers' household, Buffy's expression softened into one of understanding.  She knew how painful breakups could be and how easy it was to be reminded of the lover you no longer had with you.  "Alright Will.  Go ahead and take the time that you need.  Just promise me that you won't do any of those 'will be done' spells like last time, okay?"

"Okay Buffy," Willow agreed, remembering the fiasco that had occurred after her last breakup when she had done a spell to try to ease her pain and ended up blinding Giles, turning Xander into a demon magnet, and engaging Buffy to Spike in one of the most revoltingly sappy romances ever.  It was a spell gone wrong that had ended in profuse apologies and many baked cookies of atonement on her part. "I promise - no spells.  And thanks."

Willow hung up the phone, relieved yet slightly disappointed that it had gone so well.  Buffy could have protested and interrogated her just a *little* bit more, couldn't she?  Willow knew that it was a silly thing to be protesting, especially given how bad she was at lying, but she couldn't help herself.  She kept thinking that it had been *too* easy and that if Buffy had actually truly cared about what was going on in Willow's life then she would have given Willow more than just a cursory inquiry into why she wasn't home.

Willow sighed.  Her rather turbulent relations with the rest of the Scooby Gang weren't important right now.  Right now, helping Spike get well was the most important thing.  The rest could wait until after he was better.  Willow took two bags of blood from the fridge, cut them open, and poured each bag into two large mugs that she'd found in the cupboard left over from special deals 7-11 had on coffee a couple times over the years.  She placed both mugs in the microwave for the amount of time approved for correct blood temperature, a number found through over a year of experimentation with Spike's blood, and adjusted it upwards a bit to compensate for an additional mug.  She waited impatiently for the microwave to ding, watching the numbers count down intently to keep from thinking.  She didn't want to think anymore, she wanted to give her mind a rest for a while. Maybe sleep would be a good idea.

She carefully carried the two mugs up the stairs to her parent's bedroom.  Goddess forbid that she spill blood on the carpet, she'd never be able to explain it in the unlikely event that her parents came home and actually paid attention.  It would be just like them that the one time they paid attention it was because of the condition of the house rather than because of her.

She entered the room with a bright smile she wasn't entirely sure she felt pasted on her exhausted features.  Angel and Spike were in the same positions they'd been in when she left.  It didn't look like they'd said a word or even moved a muscle the entire time she'd been gone.  She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, but it didn't work and only served as fuel for the oncoming babble.  She held up the mugs and said, "Well, here we are.  Two mugs of blood nice and toasty for my two favorite vampires.  Dinner is served.  Or is it breakfast?  I don't know.  Anyway, it's some sort of a meal.  Maybe a midnight snack?  But is it still a midnight snack when vampires don't even wake up until sunset?  So maybe it's more of a midday meal? Lunch?  Brunch?  I don't know...I guess no one ever felt the need to define the feeding schedule of vampires and give names to the meals they have.  But then again, most of the world doesn't know about vampires so there's really no reason for any to decide that there *needed* to be words for such an activity.  But maybe vampires do? Do vampires have names for their meals that are different from the ones humans use or do you just use the same ones normal people do?" Willow stopped her babble there and looked at the two vampires expectantly.  She was a little tired from saying all of those words at one time and had definitely done her part for ensuring that a conversation would emerge from the tense silence that had filled the room until it was almost a physical presence.

"Oh!" she'd almost forgot. "Here," she said, "Take these mugs and drink them before they get cold."

Both vampires smiled at her extremely obvious attempt at breaking the disquiet in the room.  Those smiles were enough to break completely the unease in the room, shatterproof glass be damned.  They both accepted their mugs with murmurs of thanks and began to drink.  Angel decided to bite the conversational stake and try to answer the verbal torrent she'd poured over their heads almost as soon as she'd entered the room.  "Well little one, vampires aren't known for their inventiveness in naming things.  Generally they're just referred to as meals.  We don't really eat at set times in the evenings so there's not really a need for names.  Occasionally, I suppose a vamp will use one of the human mealtime names that they're familiar with because they have no other real word for it.  So in short, no." Angel concluded his little speech with a conciliatory smile. Willow's curiosity was such an amusing thing to behold that Angel always felt bad when he couldn't satisfy it accurately.

Spike couldn't resist.  He *had* to chime in on this conversation.  "Personally, I just call them Happy Meals on Legs, but that's a rather recent name, now isn't it?  Or at least I *did*," he sighed, "Although they aren't really any more for me now.  How can they be?  I'm a bloody neutered vamp I am."  His anger and depression were quick to return with only the faintest of reminders of his situation.

Willow tried to make the best of the treacherous turn in the conversation by making light of Spike's remarks.  "Well I for one am rather glad of that fact.  I have no desire to be a Happy Meal...they aren't kosher, or really Wiccan-approved for that matter."

Even through his emotional agony, a tiny remnant of Spike's original human gallantry remained.  He couldn't allow Willow to think that she would be something as paltry as a Happy Meal.  Her sense of self- worth was poor enough as it is, he didn't need to knock it down any further than it already was.  The devil knew he was already well acquainted with how it felt to be on the receiving end of such treatment and he had no intention of subjecting Willow's emotions to the same harsh handling that he'd been exposed to, especially after she'd been nice to him without having anything to gain from it.  "Aw pet, you wouldn't be a happy meal for any discerning vamp.  You're a full-course meal in the top restaurant in the bloody world.  There are very few vintages that could equal yours, love."

Willow gave a self-derisive laugh in response. "Well, thank you Spike.  That was very sweet and flattering of you, even if it was the biggest lie you've ever uttered to my face.  And with such a lovely false compliment, I'm going to go to bed.  Angel?" she turned to him in inquiry, "Is it alright with you if I go to sleep?  Will you be okay watching Spike for the rest of the night and for part of tomorrow?  Normally I'd stay up later than this but it's been a really difficult night and I'm really wiped out.  All I want to do right now is collapse into my bed and sink into blissful unconsciousness."

Angel smiled softly at the shorter redhead.  She *did* look tired and it was obvious that when she'd opened the door earlier that evening that she hadn't been sleeping well lately.  "You know, Spike's right.  He wasn't lying.  You truly are a feast for any vampire and one that any with any perception at all will linger over and savor to the fullest possible measure.  As for tonight, go ahead and go to bed.  There's no point in you exhausting yourself.  I'll be fine watching over Spike and sunrise won't be a problem since this room's already been sun proofed.  We'll be fine...now go."  As he spoke, he pushed Willow gently out of the room and in the direction of her bedroom.  "Get some sleep little one.  It's obvious you need it.  You can check in with us in the morning, but I don't want to see you until you've had at least eight hours, understand?"

Willow nodded tiredly and looked up at the dark-haired vampire blankly for a moment.  Then she impulsively moved forward, gave him a quick hug as well as a peck on the cheek, and said, "Thanks for coming to help Angel I don't know what I would have done without you tonight."

Angel's surprised left him frozen for those few precious seconds he had to respond to Willow's impromptu demonstration of affection.  By the time he was able to get his tongue and limbs working again, she had already returned to her original place in front of her door.  A wave of disappointment swept through both him and Angelus, who was swift in berating him for his inaction before their newly-liberated tongue was able to work in conjunction with their mouth to form comprehensible words.  "You're quite welcome little one.  I doubt I could refuse you anything after all you've given me.  Sleep well," he finished.  With his final words, he leaned forward slightly and returned the hug she'd given him with one of his own.  After a brief moment, he released her with Angelus railing at him furiously with every inch that separated them from the redhead's arms.  "See you in the morning."

With that final parting Angel turned back to return to Spike's sickbed, unwilling to reveal his need for the witch by watching her go into her room.  And Willow went into her bedroom where she slept the sleep of those who have been pushed both physically and emotionally beyond their limits into exhaustion.

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