DISCLAIMER:All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB.
RATING:NC-17. Some Buffy/Spike action
BACKGROUND: Season 4 story. You wanted to know what Spike's vision meant. Ask no more.

Four months ago had someone told Spike that he wouldn't be able to bite humans, Spike would have laughed hysterically. If they'd told him that he wouldn't be able to bite and that he and the Slayer would fall in love, he'd have laughed hysterically and beat them up. If they'd told him that he wouldn't be able to bite, that he and the Slayer would fall in love, and that he would become psychic, he'd have laughed hysterically, beat them up, and drained them dry. And if they'd said that he wouldn't be able to bite, that he and the Slayer would fall in love, that he would become psychic, and that he would find holding the Slayer's hand was just as good as sex, he'd have skipped the laughing, the beating, the draining, and just snapped their neck, thus leaving one less crazy person alive.

But as luck would have it, that was exactly what had happened. Here he was, sitting with the Slayer in her Watcher's couch, holding her hand. Technically he wasn't only holding her hand; the small touch allowed him to link to her mind.

Now that was all new to him, the linking thing. Before he'd been the one who could hear the other. Since they admitted their feelings less than a week ago, they found they could mentally join together through a simple touch. Hence the reason that the incredible wonderfulness of holding hands rated up there with having sex. It never ceased to amaze him, the ease with which he could be aware of everything running through her, enhanced by the knowledge she felt the same sensations in him. Each live nerve in her body was attuned to each dead one in his. By merely grazing her soft skin, Spike was drenched in the life coursing in her veins. It was so tempting to sit there gazing into her gorgeous hazel eyes, barely in contact, but closer than physically possible.

Buffy smiled at him, and his undead heart practically leapt at the blazing happiness he experienced from her. Here was the peace and contentment he was quickly becoming addicted to. It drove away the darkness that one vision had brought into his life. Loving her, he knew, was much like playing with fire. Beautiful to behold and tempting to touch, sooner or later, one of them was going to get burned. It was a law of nature and the only logical future for their relationship. Added to that was the vision he'd had, the one he tried to keep from thinking about, the one where she died on his teeth. If it took a single thing to convince him they had no chance, that should have been it. And yet, he trusted their love to overcome the obstacles as long as he could be with her. Together there was nothing that could separate them.

A door opened, and he stood, walking rapidly away, with Buffy sliding to the floor in front of the couch. Instantly reeling over the loss of her warmth in his hand and mind, Spike went to his usual spot behind the kitchen counter. It was time for the weekly Wednesday meeting of the Slayer and her Slayerrettes. The whole Scooby gang was still in the dark about what he and Buffy had been up to, so they had to keep up this ridiculous facade of near enemies/reluctant allies. They did a good job at the hating each other act; they'd had lots of practice.

It was Xander and Anya, who sat down together in the spot Buffy and Spike had so swiftly vacated. They were holding hands, and Spike felt unreasonably jealous that he was no longer able to do the same. Spike ignored them by eating some of the Watcher's food mixed in blood, a habit he knew Buffy found rather obnoxious.

The witch came in the front door, and the Watcher walked down the stairs from behind them. Willow settled down next to Buffy, who smiled at her sappily.

Spike gritted his teeth because Buffy was radiating a whole, happy, 'the world is a wonderful place, and I'm in love' vibe that was killing him. She was wearing that blinding smile which haunted him all hours. He wanted to grab her, kiss her, do anything to let her see he was on the same wavelength. But he couldn't.

The Watcher set his wipe-off board on its pedestal, beginning to talk, "Nice to see all of you came, on time." He cast a significant look at Xander and Anya who tended to be a little late. "I need to tell you how pleased I am with the way all of you have been doing with the patrolling schedule, but there are some areas in which we are still lacking."

"Yeah, like in the live guys department," Xander said, aiming his jibe at Spike.

"I could use a good meal. That one's getting uppity," Spike replied while he slurped some blood off his chin.

"Can it, Spike," Buffy warned him.

"He's getting on my nerves, Slayer. You don't have to be around when I patrol. I have to listen to his crap all night."

"Like you aren't annoying enough to begin with," Xander retorted.

"You'd be less annoying if I tore out your throat," Spike said plainly.

"Hey, only I can yell at him like that!" Anya exclaimed indignantly.

"Killing him would make my day look up considerably," Spike commented pleasantly.

"Spike!" Buffy yelled, hopping to her feet. She went up to him and poked him in the shoulder, her smile gone.

He continued on, "Got a problem?" He pushed her back, avoiding her skin.

The smile was back in full force. "Only you," she answered and punched him in the jaw.

The second her fist hit his face, their connection snapped back on. It was akin to holding two live wires in his hands and trying to breathe. One moment he was surrounded by her powerful shining essence, and the next he was back in his own cold existence.

"I told you to shut up," Buffy's voice shook from the strain of being so close and not being able do anything about it.

His hands clamped around her throat as if he intended to strangle her, though his intention could not have been more opposite. *I love you. I love you. I love you,* he called out mentally, showering her with all his unspoken feelings. Buffy's eyes glowed in response, loving him back with every iota of her being. Her love redoubled as her grin widened.

Tightening his hands, Spike dared her, "Make me."

"Ummm . . ." Willow worried, watching her best friend being choked by Spike. "Shouldn't we stop them?"

"She's not hurting." Anya said. "She wouldn't look so happy if she was."

"Shhh, I want to see her put him in his place," Xander quieted them.

"Fine." Buffy brought her hands down on Spike's arms in a strong karate chop. It forced him to drop his hold on her neck. One of her arms lifted him by the neck and slammed him into the Watcher's refrigerator. Magnets crumpled beneath him, but he was already lost in the emotions he could sense in coursing in her blood. He felt the desire and tension that made her wish they were alone. They stared at each other in rapt attention, Buffy breathing hard and Spike silent, more flashing between them than simple words could convey.

"Excuse me. You two," Giles interrupted them. "This is precisely the problem here." Buffy and Spike froze, both sure he had discovered their secret. "Lack of teamwork."

None too gently, Buffy let Spike fall to the floor, shrugging. "Sorry, Giles. I'll do better next time." She sat back down next to Willow, her grin even bigger than before. "It's that nothing is as fun as beating the Hell out of Spike." Spike wisely decided not to answer when he was on the receiving end of a glare from the Watcher.

"Originally, we were going to discuss why Buffy was attacked by an inferno demon in the church during confessional." Giles referred to Buffy's explanation of the church burning. She'd completely 'forgotten' to mention Spike had been at the church too. "This matter apparently had more weight." Giles brought out a nearly empty coffee can. "This is what we are going to do." He put six pieces of paper in the can. "Everyone choose a piece." The can was passed around the group. "Number ones are going to Buffy's house, number twos are going to Xander's house, and number threes are going to Willow's house." He pulled a paper himself. "I'm a three."

"I'm a two," Buffy beamed.

Anya opened hers, "I'm a one."

"So am I," Willow said, looking miserable. She hated Anya.

"Bugger it," Spike wailed in realistic dismay, "I'm a two!"

Xander laughed, "I'm a three."

Giles cleared his throat, "Returning to the matter at hand, I said number ones are going to Buffy's, number two's are going to Xander's, and number threes are going to Willow's. The first team to get there and back will be the winner."

"Wait. Where's that catch? It's Murphy's law; there has to be a catch," Xander said.

"Only a small one. You and your partner will be tied together by one leg with this." He held up three pieces of white rope.

"Aww shucks, Giles. Three-legged races? Will we have a potato sack race, too?" Xander drawled badly.

"In my spare time, I have been researching teamwork and how to utilize the talents of an entire group. According to the experts, we need to do some team building activities," Giles defended his idea.

"You can only have time to think up this because you haven't had a job in eight months," Anya pointed out tactlessly.

Willow shot her a pained look, "Anya . . ."

"The purpose of this activity is to make certain all of us can work together." He glared at Buffy and Spike, "Even if you will never be friends."

"Not my fault the Slayer can't keep her hands to herself," Spike leered.

"Could you be more crude?" Buffy brightened, "Great idea, Giles. The sooner we finish this, the sooner I can be somewhere else." As Giles stared dumbfounded by her words, Buffy smiled knowingly at Willow, who grinned back.

"Watcher's pet," Xander called affectionately. "But I am his partner, and believe me, Rupert and I will kick yours and little Willie's butt."

"Rupert?" Giles rolled his eyes and handed each group a length of the rope. "Tie yourselves together, and I'll see you back here."

Willow and Anya struggled toward Xander's house.

"Why are we going this way?" Anya complained.

"Because it's the shortest," Willow told her shortly.

"How do you know?" Anya accused.

"I've known Xander my whole life. I know how to get to his house from Giles's."

"Well, I don't like this way," Anya said as they walked on the sidewalk. "There are too many lights. I usually cut through yards."

"Which is wrong and hard to do with us trussed up like this." Willow pointed out. "Besides, this is Sunnydale, it's safer to walk in the lights."

"Where do you live?" Anya said bluntly. "This town is like a Demon Central Station. I've seen it in movies. We get lulled in by a false sense of security . . . and then they get us!"

"No one is going to get-"

"Willow?" A voice said suddenly.

"-us," Willow finished as she and Anya jumped in surprise.

Riley emerged from a nearby clump of bushes. "What are you up to?" He looked doubtfully at their joined legs.

Willow spoke quickly, "Hi, Riley. What are we doing?"

"Yeah, why are you to hooked together like that?"

"Umm . . . well . . . freshman initiation . . . for the college-Wiccan Thursday group. Right?" She nudged Anya, who said nothing.

"But this is Wednesday."

"I know, - but we're flexible," Willow shrugged.

"I see. Who's your friend?" Riley examined Anya.

Anya still didn't say anything.

"This is Anya. It's-" Willow searched for a good lie, "It's part of the Initiation. She can't talk to anyone but me until we reach the finish."

"It's dangerous out alone at night. Where's the finish so I can help you?"

"No!" Willow said too loudly. "I mean, no. You see, about the finish. It's that-it moves. If we're not alone when we find it-because it's hidden- it won't be there." She elbowed Anya to start moving, but Anya didn't even twitch. Willow tried to take a step forward and knocked them both over when Anya didn't help her.

Riley ran over and gave Willow a hand to stand up. He tried to help Anya too, but she shrank away from him. She stood up defiantly on her own.

"Riley, did you want something?" Willow wondered, noticing his too friendly behavior for someone whom Buffy had told to stay away.

"I was trying to find Buffy," Riley ventured.

"She told you she didn't want to see you," Willow pointed out.

"It's been over a month. She might have changed her mind."

"I know she hasn't," Willow said truthfully.

"Has she found someone else?" Desperation was clear in his voice.

"It's not my business," Willow said as Anya began to pull urgently on her sleeve. "I think Anya says we need to get moving. Bye, Riley." They walked off in perfect synchronization without a backward glance.

When they were far enough way, Willow stopped, causing Anya to stumble.

"Why did you do that?" Anya asked angrily.

"Because I want to know what you were doing back there. I had to make excuses for you."

"Those were pretty lame," Anya received a warning glare. "Okay, he scares me."

"It's just Riley!" Willow exclaimed.

"And I'm just an ex-demon."

"Oh." Willow couldn't think of anything else to say to that.

"The commandos make me nervous. What would they do if they found out who I used to be?"

"I had no idea you were scared." Willow said sympathetically.

Which was lost on Anya who continued, "It has to really suck for Spike."

"Why?" Willow didn't see where Spike belonged in Anya's issues.

"They probably think I'm human; Buffy told me so. But Spike, he's a blood-sucking demon. Not human at all." Anya thought for a second. "He's probably gonna get caught and killed." She tossed her head, "Too bad."

*Too bad?* Willow thought. Maybe they weren't doing enough to help Spike. He was a member of the gang now, sort of. If Anya was worried, and she was human, then Willow couldn't imagine what it was like for Spike. She'd have to talk to Buffy about it, after this race was over.

Xander and Giles fought their way toward Willow's house.

"Left foot first," Giles ordered. "Don't take such large steps."

"Hey, do it my way," Xander said, stepping forward on his right. It tripped them over, and they collapsed in a heap.

"Why did I let you convince me that working with you would be easy?" Giles replaced his glasses on his head.

"Your problem is you don't compromise," Xander commented.

"If you would simply work with me-"

"But you haven't been the funnest person to be joined at the hip with, you little-engine-that-couldn't," Xander said. "I'm sure Buffy isn't putting up with this from Spike in her condition."

"Her condition?" Giles was surprised.

Xander looked at him in disbelief, "Didn't you notice?"

"Notice what?"

"Look, speaking as an experienced Buffy watcher of many years, I saw the signs."

"What signs?"

"Okay. For example, tonight, the whole time she beat on Spike, she had this huge smile. And then she was all perky when you decided to have this little race. How many times has she been really into one of your ideas?"

"I can count the number on one hand," Giles admitted. "Maybe she's turning a new leaf."

"You have to be blind," Xander said, "The Buffster has a boyfriend."

"She didn't tell me."

"Me neither, but I think Willow knew."

"If she is dating some young man, why haven't we met him?" Giles questioned.

"I hate to break this to you, but we are weird. I mean, yeah, I hate not knowing who the guy is, but how would she explain you? This is my old high school librarian that I hang around with? I think we would scare him off."

"We would not." Xander twitched his lip, and Giles reconsidered his words, "Maybe we would."

"Now that I know she has a guy, I'm gonna find him and have a little talk with him." Xander smiled devilishly.

"Wait, I thought you said we didn't want to scare-" Giles saw the protective look on Xander's face. "Never mind. If Buffy did go to the trouble of hiding him from us, it is likely that she is not meeting him at normal hours."

"Good point. She's probably meeting him after patrol or something. None of us have caught her sneaking of patrol with a strange boy. Anya would have told me, and Willow would have mentioned it at least once. I know you didn't see anything. So how could she be seeing him?" Xander contemplated the possibilities and asked, "How many days a week does Buffy patrol with Spike?"

"Three, I believe."

Xander snapped his fingers, "That's it!"

"She's dating Spike? God no," Giles groaned.

"No, Buffy is so above Deadboy the Second. Not even a small chance of that. I meant she's seeing mystery man after she patrols with Spike. He doesn't have any reason to share that little tidbit with any of us."

"Are you sure about that, Xander? That doesn't make sense," Giles was not sold on the logic. "How do you know you are right?"

"One way to be sure," Xander helped Giles up, "When this is done and I go on patrol with Spike, I'll ask him."

The teamwork activity was laughably easy for Buffy and Spike. When they could share the feelings in their heads, the entire physical binding was almost superfluous. They found that they could easily run the distance without missing a single step. Moving at a pretty fast clip, they arrived at and left Xander's before, according to Spike's senses, any of the others were even a quarter of the way there.

There was one small drawback to the team; they were having a hard time not touching each other. Holding hands cemented their mental bond, but under the surface they were craving more contact. It was maddening to be so close, and like at Giles's, they were unable to act on what they were both feeling.

Buffy stopped them as they went past a few trees, "I need a break."

He gave her a funny look, she didn't sense or look tired. Rather, she looked pretty tasty right then. "You do?"

"Yeah, a required in my Slayer contract kissing break," She leaned back against a tree, and he worked around their rope to angle over her.

"I think I might start fancying this kind of break." They started kissing.

Their minds touched deeply, and they pulled as close as possible. One of his hands held her up while the other was caressing her breast through her skimpy raspberry top, and her hands were busy under his duster, untucking his shirts.

A voice penetrated their happy haze, "Master Spike!" It called softly.

Buffy broke the kiss in annoyance, and Spike caught the aura of the visitor; it was no vampire. He felt Buffy snap the rope holding their legs together, and he slid his head down to her neck.

"Look dead," he whispered and bit his tongue. Blood welled up, and he licked the side of her neck, leaving bloody streaks. He completely released her; she let herself fall to the ground as she did her best 'bitten by a vampire' impression.

Spike turned to see a Kwaini demon rushing toward him It was wrapped in its usual whitish robes. Spike gave it a crimson grin, mouth still wet from his own blood. The Kwaini halted, and Spike remembered they were basically peace-loving demons.

"What do you want?" Spike used his enraged voice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your . . . meal." It shook with fear but not fear of Spike. "They haven't got you yet. It is so dangerous to be out in the open." The demon checked all sides.

"What are you blabbering about?"

"There are men with guns." It was positively terrified. "They come and take us."

"The commando blokes? Can't you hide?" Spike strengthened his shields, for the demon's fright was punching holes in his mental armor.

"We tried. They've been on the rampage. They got my two cousins." Its voice dropped to a hushed level, "Last week, they took Dead Ed and all his followers?"

"They got Dead Ed and his whole group?" Spike whistled because Dead Ed was a demon who owned one of the restaurants in Sunnydale. That bunch was totally nonviolent too. "Who else?"

"Who else is there? All the Polgaras, Listers, and Fyerals are missing too." The demon looked ready to run away.

Spike grabbed it by its wrappings. "Where are you going?" Its fear shot through his barrier, and he dropped the Kwaini.

"I'm gonna get caught. No one can stop them. I've got to warn the other vampires and demons here. If there are any left."

"Don't bother," Spike said, admitting something he had suspected for sometime. "You'll never find them. Most have fled, got caught, or are so hidden they're not even coming up for blood." He pinned the Kwaini with his eyes. "You may have a few hours. Get out of Sunnydale."

"And go where?"

"I hear LA is lovely this time of year. Now go!" Spike picked Buffy up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, saying in explanation. "Midnight snack."

"What are you going to do?" The Kwaini demon asked.

"I'm the Big Bad. I'm not going anywhere." Spike left the small demon alone in the dark.

When he reached another group of trees, he dropped Buffy and scanned the area mentally. It made his head ache after the drubbing the Kwaini had given his shields. Fortunately there was no danger nearby. In the distance he could feel the fear and watchfulness of other demons matched by the hunting mentality of the commandos.

He glanced at Buffy. Did she see the war the demons were losing? Did she know of the war he fought when he went to sleep, trying to shut that vision out. It was black. Black. Black. Black. He sank his fangs into her neck. . . Spike blocked the thoughts, *Concentrate on her.*

Buffy stood up, "So the Initiative is stepping up its anti-demon thing."

"Looks like it." He needed to hear her and not the despair that had been creeping in him. He grabbed her and cleaned the blood off her neck with his tongue.

She gasped, but said with worry, "You need to be careful."

"I'm always careful," he said, depending on her solid mental presence to fortify his shields. And to drive away the darkness of the future. Whatever doubt he was experiencing, this was one fact he could hold to, he believed in her.

"And I love math," she said, kissing him again, which wiped the fear and worry from both their heads. Eventually drawing back, she said, "We lost the race."

"Nah, here," he took the pieces of rope, tied the pieces together, and knotted it back around their legs. "All fixed."

"We have to go." They kissed quickly, not sure when they would get the chance again. They ran off into the darkness, fleeing the storm that they knew was just over the horizon.

"So," Xander offered on patrol, "You notice anything weird about Buffy lately?"

Spike flipped a stake in his hand, "The Slayer? Why would I care?"

"I was just wondering. She seems pretty happy recently," Xander said suggestively.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we? What do you want?" Spike showed his fangs.

"Fine. What do you think of Buffy having a new boyfriend?" Xander blurted out.

The expression on Spike's face was unreadable, "I think it doesn't matter a bit to me."

"You sure? I mean, I know she has a guy, and isn't that moving in on your territory? You two were engaged, and she lived with you. You must have looked at her a few times when she was with you, alone. Doesn't it make you the teeniest bit jealous that someone else is getting the goods?"

Spike gave him a cool look, "We were engaged because Teen Witch screwed up. When she lived in my bloody home, she slept with a stake under her pillow. I'm well over a century, and she's a bleating nineteen." He cocked his head at Xander, "Whereas you are nineteen and have been making googgly eyes at her for what, four years?"

"Okay, maybe I'm a little jealous," Xander agreed. "But this guy, does he know how important she is?"

"You've seen how she keeps her secret identity. Do you think he could have avoided knowing?" Spike pointed out and threw a stake at Xander, who ducked down. The stake neatly dusted a newly risen vampire, whose dust covered Xander.

Standing straight again, Xander said, "You could have warned me, bleach boy."

"I could have, but I didn't."

Xander brushed some of the dust off, "So you think the whole 'Buffy dating the invisible man' is okay?"

Another odd facial expression, "The Slayer has such bloody tragic taste in men, I'm sure she'll be fine, after she gets eaten." He added in an afterthought.

"You know something about Buffy's guy, don't you," Xander said as Spike turned his back on him. "And I'm gonna take a shot in the dark here; you're not gonna tell me either."

"Gold star for you," Spike said dryly.

"Come on! Tell me something," Xander begged.

"Fine. I'll tell you what. You keep this up, and I let the next vampire sneaking up behind you get a bite next time."

Xander shut up pretty fast.

Neither Buffy nor Willow was making much of an effort to go to bed. They were each absorbed in their own thoughts, unaware they shared the same one.

Willow fiddled with one of her pens and said, "Buffy. I need to ask you something."

"What?" Buffy said, a little short in her own worry.

"It's about the Initiative. Do you think we're doing enough to protect Spike? Anya is worried about herself, and she's almost human so Spike-"

"No, we didn't do enough," Buffy said defeated.

"Did something happen during that teamworky thing?" Willow ventured cautiously.

"Depressing demon visit. Some demon showed up and said the Initiative is getting all demon catchy."

"Yeah, I saw Riley out today, hiding in the bushes . . .in the dark . . ." The implications hit Willow. "The commandos were definitely out in full force."

"So what do we do? Spike's been on our side for a while now."

"And he's the Voice," Willow reminded her.

"Can't forget that for a second. Spike sees the future." Buffy sighed, "How whacked is that? Vampire Slayer gets a vampire seer." Buffy ran a hand through her hair. "Back to the protection part, what can we do?"

"My spells aren't really up on that kind of stuff," Willow thought for a little bit. "I could give him claws."

"Too bad he can't hurt people. Well, maybe not 'too bad,' but you know what I mean."

"I could . . . no, that won't work. I don't know if I could keep him from getting caught."

"Then the locator you have on him can help us find him."

"But if he's deep in the Initiative lab, it may take a long time for us to get him out. And then if he eats the drugged blood, we might not be able to get him out at all," Willow mentioned.

"Then we need to make something he can take instead of the bad blood," Buffy nodded thoughtfully.

"Like a concentrate? I think I can do that." Willow shrugged at Buffy's skeptical raised eyebrow, "Tara and I were trying to make my motherwort smaller. I could work with blood, only-"

"What only? No 'only!' I see the 'big problem' face on you."

"The blood we use would have to be super-strong in small doses. Animal is not strong enough, and we'll probably need lots of human blood to be powerful enough.

"Or we could use my blood," Buffy reached under her bed an pulled out a syringe.

Willow's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she squeaked, "Or we could do that. Why do you have that?" She asked about the syringe.

"First aid kit," Buffy offered, though she had used it once to give blood to Spike. "What do I do?"

"Well, first we get my witch supplies and my conjuring bowl," she gulped, "And then we draw your blood." She paused and said, "Do you think you could give him that tomorrow night before you patrol with Giles? I have study group."

"Sure," Buffy agreed quickly. "Back to the spell."

"Oh. Then we'll do the Rite of-"

It was just past dusk when Buffy was ready to go to Spike's. She opened the door and was surprised to see Spike about to knock.

She hustled him in and locked the door, "I was gonna go see you. Why are you here?"

"Where's the witch?" He picked up her hand.

As the wave rushed over her, Buffy said, "Study group."

"Good," He purred. "I have a chance to say good-bye properly."

"What? I thought we were past that!" She dropped his hand, breaking the connection and turned away.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He grabbed her hand again, letting her feel his pain. "I need to go and see how good of a job the commandos are doing. Someone needs to find the demons and vampires still in Sunnyhell. If there are any." He hated to leave her.

She hated to have him go. "How long will you be gone?"

"Couple of days. You're scheduled to patrol on them."

"And you won't be able to see me? You are staying in Sunnydale, right?"

Spike kissed her forehead, "We can't take the chance because we are enemies and all."

"I wish sometimes we could tell everyone." Buffy laid her head on his shoulder. "It's like we're waiting for something ultra-bad to happen."

His muscles stiffened under her head as if she had struck a nerve in him. "I love you," He whispered.

"I know." She faced him, catching the ripple of worry that coursed through him. "Hey, I sensed that. What?"

He took off his big black and silver ring. She eyed the proffered ring suspiciously. "Here. I want you to have this."

"What is it?" she handled it gingerly.

"A ring. Mine specifically," he said slightly exasperated.

"I know that. What I was asking was, you want me to wear your ring? Or not wear it precisely, but keep it since we just went over the part where we can't tell-"

He kissed her to shut her up and helped her slip it on her finger. "Do whatever you want, pet."

"Oh. Guess what? I have a present for you too." She handed him a little tissue wrapped package. He took it, not sure what it was. "Willow and I made this for you. See, it comes apart in three pieces." She split the package into three fingertip sized parcels. "You can put them in different pockets then."

"That's lovely, Slayer," He said. "But what are they?"

Buffy smiled sweetly, "Forgot to say that part, freeze-dried Buffy blood." He stared at her blankly. "In case you get some place like, I dunno, the commando lab where you couldn't eat." She suggested. "So these things are alot like pills."

"You and the witch made these?"

"Basically just Willow. I donated the blood."

"How long until she comes back?" Buffy grinned eagerly but stopped at his next words, "I should thank her."

Slightly perturbed, Buffy said, "An hour.'

"Too bad," Spike said regretfully. "If I can't thank her," He sighed and smiled at his girlfriend, "I'll have to thank you instead." He traced one finger up her arm, moving all the way up to her face. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Buffy pulled his head down for a kiss.

While their minds twined closer together, their hands worked at removing their constraining clothing. She shoved his duster down his arms to the floor so she could kick to away. He peeled her top up, stripping off her bra.

Buffy keened and leaned into him as his cold mouth engulfed her pebbled nipple. Seeing the flush spread through her delicious skin, Spike threw her onto the nearest bed before following her.

Buffy sat up for a second, "Hey! This isn't my bed." One of his hands snaked up and dragged her back down.

"New place for us then." Spike said, helping her throw her top away. "Will you miss me?" His mouth covered her other breast, lightly biting the peak with his teeth.

"Yes," she moaned and reached for his pants. He released her when he felt her fingers grip his fly.

Changing their positions, she shoved him back down on the bed so she was on top. "Miss me?"

Spike had trouble answering because she bit down on the curve of his neck, sucking hard. She was enjoying herself, doing a particularly good vampire imitation. "Pet . . .yes . . .constantly." With his statement the pressure on his neck increased and his eyes rolled back happily when his blood slipped into her mouth. She still didn't let up; he could tell through her emotions that she was having a great time doing that. "What are you doing?" he groaned.

She raised her bloody mouth. "Marking my territory. I don't want any vampire sluts to think they can jump my boyfriend's sexy undead bones."

"Oh, I guess I get to return the favor," Spike pushed her back down so he was on top again. She licked the blood off her lips suggestively and shifted her hips against his throbbing erection. Spike changed his plan, "Or I could move onto the main event."

Her hand freed him, and she gave him a purely feminine smile as she head his gasp in her ears and head. "I think you're up to it." She locked her hands around his neck, hitting the bleeding spot, and hauled him down for another long kiss. Spike took that as a good time to roll down the waistband of her capris and was rewarded to find her wet in anticipation. Buffy mewed into his mouth and helped him push down her pants. Giving her center a final caress, he removed his jeans and positioned himself over her.

Their eyes met, and he gazed into a pair of hazel eyes that were wide open, screaming for him to join her. The look of heated intensity in his blue eyes rocked her to the core. It was another perfect moment, belonging together wholly. "You're mine," she whispered, raising her hips in invitation.

He sank into her scorching depths, filling her and completing himself. "And you're mine."

The figure handed Agent Riley Finn the binoculars. "See for yourself."

Riley took the binoculars with a shaking hand and aimed them at the second story of the dorm. What he saw angered him beyond belief.

There was Buffy, his Buffy, with Hostile 17. The were talking, and the hostile gave her a peck on the forehead. Then he handed her something. Buffy stared at the hostile . . . and they began kissing? After a few minutes they stopped, and she gave the vampire something else. The kissing started again.

He watched in horrified fascination as the couple began to strip off their clothes. In obvious pleasure, he saw the hostile lean over to suck on one rosy upturned breast. Buffy threw her head back, pushing herself against the hostile-

He dropped the binoculars, denying what he had seen. "No. No!"

"Convinced now?" The figure asked.

"It can't be," Riley told himself.

"But it is," the figure insisted. "She's going down on that monster as we speak."

"Why?" Riley shouted hoarsely. He cradled his head in his hands. "That vermin. How dare he touch my Buffy?" When he raised his head, Riley's eyes were glowing with wrath. "What do you need me to do?"

The figure tucked into its pocket the syringe it had injected Father Paul with several days ago, and patted the commando on the back. "Trust me, you'll love what it will be."

The cold was extraordinary, and Buffy's head hit the mattress rhythmically as he pounded into her. Every time he sheathed himself in her heat, she drew him a little further inside. She wrapped her legs around him, changing the angle.

Spike grinned at the pleasure flowing in her when she slammed her pelvis up to hit his. The warmth was coursing through him with her mind urging him to go faster. So he drove deeper, each stroke flashing bright colors behind both their eyes. Her fingernails dug into his back, breaking the pale skin as she felt like she was nearly exploding out of every pore.

Sweat dripped into her eyes, and she squeezed his buttocks, "Mine." Her nails raked more cuts in a frenzy to mark him.

"Mine," he echoed in agreement, hugging her in an embrace that made her bones creak. The small physical pain mixed with the physical and mental pleasure, adding a new flavor. "Mine. Mine. Mine." Each word was punctuated by him pumping faster while she met his thrusts with her own, heightening their link to another level.

Buffy's eyes closed, and she gasped, "Love you!" in the instant Spike grunted the same phrase. Her inner muscles tensed around him, and her eyes snapped back open. The climax shot through them both, the beam of light searing their minds into one. They called for each other and floated up in the ecstasy.

They lay there a long while, a tangle of arms and legs, lost in the love. Nothing existed except them; it was perfect happiness. He gently kneaded her breast with languid strokes, aware he may not touch her for some time. She brushed his face as she tried to memorized his shape and feeling in her head. They were too close to think about anything else.

Reality intruded when he suddenly checked the clock and practically jumped off Willow's bed. He began to put on his clothes.

"What?" She sat up, wincing at the loss of his mental touch.

"The witch will be back soon, and I need to shower." He patted her head apologetically. "I can't visit other demons with Slayer-scent all over me."

She inhaled the musky scent he left on her skin. "I'm Spike-scented." She climbed off the bed naked, swaying her hips playfully. Buffy bent over to pick up his duster from the floor, conscious of his hungry stare. Smiling, she held out his jacket.

Spike surprised her by crouching to nip her stomach. The duster fell back to the floor forgotten as he worked his way higher to her breasts. His cold tongue lapped at her bruised nipples before moving to her neck. She writhed while he proceeded to give her a relatively painless hickey over the big vein in her neck.

Her bare hips had barely touched his jeans, but she felt him already poking her again. She glanced downward past his blonde head and saw her legs instinctively spread to accommodate him. The thrum of pleasure in his mind made her blood sing.

Using a great deal of effort, Spike forced himself to remove his mouth from her skin. "If I don't go now, the witch is gonna have to pry me off you."

She took a deep breath and stepped back. "I know," she replied with a note of longing in her tone. She retrieved the duster and handed it to him again. Their hands grazed, and she flinched at the contact which sent tingles through her. Her heart was calling to him, begging him not to go, and without even touching him, she could clearly see he was having the same problem. Inexplicably, it seemed, there was an air of finality in this. It felt like he was leaving her for a long time, in spite of the fact he wasn't actually leaving town, and she had no clue why it was that way.

Shaking visibly, he pulled his duster on. Spike swallowed hard, "I love you. And I could never hurt you."

A tear slid down her cheek at his soft words. He lunged forward, wiping it off, and then he was gone.

Buffy dressed and sat on her bed, fiddling with the ring on her finger.

*Come on. It's just a few days. You'll be fine without him.* Somehow she doubted that. It was so strange to see how he had gone from being her worst enemy to the one person she seemed to be unable to live without. She knew that by falling in love with Spike she would be basically playing chicken with some major traffic. They had so much going against them. . . but her only peace was that which she found in his arms.

*Just a few days.* She removed the ring and found a small silver chain to put it on, hanging it on her neck. Laying down on her bed, she held it close, falling asleep.

She didn't see the vial that contained Willow's locator spell on the floor where it had fallen out of Spike's coat.

Spike snapped his shields up as strongly as he could. After he left Buffy, he had stopped at the Watcher's to shower and explain his activities for the next several days. He left the knife the witch had given him there too, seeing that a demon-killing dagger was likely to be frowned upon in the demon community as a hostile gesture. Then he went to Willy's.

The memory made him shudder. The place had been nearly deserted, most of the regulars were missing. Willy had talked easily enough, but the news was bad. His business had hit rock-bottom since the Initiative had started its demon crack down.

Willy had given Spike a shot of O negative because he had plenty to spare. Not a single vampire had been by for over two weeks. Harmony, Willy had heard, was alive and well, but it was only because she never left her lair. No one had seen any Maura or Vengeance demons for over a month. A stray demon had told Willy that very morning about a Kwaini demon had been caught at the edge of Sunnyhell. The commandos were apparently guarding the borders.

It wasn't the news that made Spike so antsy; it was the whole atmosphere of the bar. There had been maybe four low level demons in there. They were in a dark corner, facing the door. The demons had been trying to tell themselves that they wouldn't be taken in a public place, but they were scared. They were afraid to go to their homes because they knew they might be caught, and afraid to remain and get caught. Too terrified to leave, yet too frightened to stay.

The wave of depression and fright in the air was almost tangible. It beat on Spike's shield like an endless rain of hail. His natural resilience frantically blocked the holes that formed, only he was being pushed as far as he could go. Spike recognized the scenario. He had been in Russia for long enough to see what it was like. Mysterious disappearances in the middle of the night; people gone without a trace. The citizens too scared to stand up and say anything, paired with the sinister rumors of the fates befalling those who did. Everyone just ducking their heads, trying to stay out of sight.

Only this time through it was much worse. Spike could literally taste the fear. The commandos had expanded their persecution, vampires and full demons were not the only ones missing. Rumor was that the half-breeds and gypsies were missing a few people too. It had to be a matter of time until the list would include witches, warlocks, mystics, and the Slayer.

He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let them touch her, ever. She was no monster. A fighter, yes, and possibly his next victim . . .

It made him wish he had told her about vision. Hiding it from her was not honest, and he knew it, but he couldn't tell her the truth. Could he tell her that he was going to kill her, that it was written in the stars for her to die.

*Stop.* Spike expelled memories of the vision from his head. His first order of business was to check out the old vampire haunts. If anyone was undead and still biting, he'd find them there.

Spike cut across the campus green. Cracking his wall slightly, he probed the area. All he sensed were a few college boys checking out some ladies. Fine with him, as long as they didn't cause him any trouble.

Trudging onward, an alarm went off in his head. Suddenly something was not right. It was very wrong. He spun around, looking for the danger. It was too late; a bolt of electricity hit him in the chest.

As he fell toward unconsciousness, his shield fell, allowing him to understand. Those college boys had been commandos not paying attention until he'd tripped some type of sensor, alerting them to his presence.

The darkness closed in, and he was reminded of his vision. The one where he killed Buffy. It was black-

Buffy shot up in bed, her hand clutching at the chain around her neck. "No!" she screamed.

"What is it?" Willow asked, waking up.

"I don't know," Dread filled her, and Buffy's hands started to shake. Inside she was suddenly very scared and alone. "Something is so not right."

Willow sat next to her and put her arm around her shivering best friend. "Buffy, what happened? Was it a dream?"

Rocking back and forth, Buffy's teeth chattered, "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." She repeated it over and over like a litany through the night.

{Next}