"Still Bound" - sequel to "Golden Bands to Bind Them" by BonnieD

Set about a year after "Something Blue". Things have played out close to canon but a little twisted in my Buffyverse due to the close encounter Buffy 'n' Spike have already shared. If events of season 5 are out of order, combined, telescoped, or otherwise rearranged, it's because I needed to do so. Hope you enjoy this continuation of the "Golden Bands" AU.

Special thanks to my very first beta reader, Zyrya, who helped give direction and shape to the story by making me identify my ultimate goal and useful technical advice about the writing itself.

The crypt door opened with a horrible screech of rusty hinges. Spike stepped through, then paused and swung the door back and forth a couple of times. Have to do something about that. Though, come to think, it would make a good alarm so nothing could sneak up on him while he slept. He entered the room, which was dustier and more decrepit than he'd remembered, tossed his bag in the corner, and looked around to see if any of his possessions were still intact: TV - gone; armchair - lying on its side, the stuffing pouring from gaping wounds; books - torn and scattered; candles - long since burnt to nubs. Beer cans, snack bags and condom wrappers littered the floor, and the smell of vomit and human waste pervaded the air. Fucking humans! No better than animals.

He sighed and kicked an empty wine bottle against the wall. Should've expected. Can't go away for months and think you'll find home like you left it. Made him wonder what other changes he'd find in Sunnydale.

        ************

Buffy walked with her head down, her stake hand swinging uselessly by her side. For once her come and get me 'tude was not an act. Her mind was so far away a bumbling fledge could have taken her. The realities of her new life swirled round and round her brain, burying it in waves of confusion and hopelessness. On her frontal lobe flashing like a red neon light and hitting her like a sledgehammer was the message MOM'S DEAD! MOM'S DEAD! MOM'S DEAD!" A trio of subheadings, 'Dawn's not real,' 'Glory's unbeatable' and 'Riley's gone' flared below it. And unconnected but as a kind of counterpoint to 'Riley's gone' was 'And so's Spike'. She should be grateful for that last. It was the one good thing in her litany of woe, but somehow it didn't feel that way. Annoying as the vampire was, he'd sometimes been useful over the past summer and she'd always been able to count on him to just...well....be there with his stupid, insightful comments and knowing eyes.

But dwarfing all the lesser issues was the irrefutable MOM'S DEAD! that barely allowed her to function. How could she survive without her mommy? Despite Buffy's powers and the apocalypses she'd averted and the demons she'd faced, she still felt like a kid. She wasn't ready to be the grown up; the one who planned the funeral, cooked the meals, cleaned the house, parented Dawn, paid the bills, made appointments, and generally navigated the adult world. And more than the responsibilities, Buffy just plain missed her mother. Why hadn't she told her, 'I love you' once in awhile? She couldn't even remember the last thing she'd said to her mom. She hoped it was something good and not one of her usual flippant remarks.

And now, as if she hadn't had enough major disasters in her life, there was this new, niggling worry, pervading everything. Filling in all the nooks and crannies left in her subconscious after the big issues took their chunk. At this point, it wasn't quite a blip on her radar, but hummed along just under the surface ready to turn from a possible tropical storm into a full-fledged hurricane. Could she be? She could be. But she almost certainly wasn't. Still...

Buffy mentally shook herself. This brooding was getting her nowhere. Constructive thinking was the only way to break loose. Better to think of her work than her personal life. What should she be doing about Glory? And where the hell were all the vampires tonight?!

She lifted her head and took a long, hard look around the quiet cemetery. Nothing in sight, but a sudden prickling at the nape of her neck told her a vamp was nearby. She took a firmer grip on her stake and glided through the night, as silent and deadly as her unseen quarry.

        *********

As Spike began to tidy the floor of the crypt, he reviewed his life over the past year, and thought about what had brought him to this point. Obviously there was pre-chip and post-chip involved, but almost more important was pre-Buffy and post-Buffy. Much as he'd tried to deny it to himself, everything changed after Little Red's ruinous will-be-done spell. It was bad enough when he and the Slayer had been convinced that the sex and the share-bear moments were a result of the witch's spell and those bloody H'rassee wedding bands, but when the spell was broken and the rings gone and the feelings lingered, Spike knew he was in trouble.

He'd tried staying out of Slayer's way, but in a town as small as Sunnydale, in the kind of circles they both moved, it was inevitable they'd run across each other again and again. He'd helped the Scoobies out on occasion - for cash, of course. Had mocked and harassed them whenever he got the chance. Had helped that wanker Adam make his bid for Big Bad of the Year in order to get the damn chip out. Spike was convinced that if he could just return to pre-chip state he could get the Slayer out of his blood, out of his mind. That plan had been a big bust.

As summer and fall ground on, he'd been increasingly restless. Fucking Harmony again had only pointed out to him what he really wanted. Closing his eyes and picturing Buffy as he rammed into her stand-in, only made him feel hungrier and angrier than ever. Then came the day of the failed chipectomy and The Dream, when everything crystallized and he stopped lying to himself about his feelings for the Slayer. He'd taken to standing outside her house at night staring up at her window, listening to her moans and gasps as she and soldier-boy went at it, letting his eyes fall closed and picturing himself covering her, remembering what she felt like beneath him, going home just before sunrise more frustrated and lonely than ever.

It all came to a head the night she asked him to tell her about the two Slayers he'd snuffed. He'd watched her disgusted face as he had spun his tale and the reality set in: 'she will never love me.' Of course, she confirmed this at the end of the evening, when he bent to kiss her and she pushed him down: "It would never be you Spike. You're beneath me." She might delude herself they were talking about a fight to the death, but he knew what their dance was really about. That night he picked himself up off the ground, went home and packed a bag, threw that yammering bitch, Harmony out of his way and roared off into the night, pedal to the metal. Time to stop brooding and start getting some perspective. Time for a road trip.

Now, here it was several months later and he was back in Sunnydale....again. The time away had been good for one thing, to prove that he was as obsessive and single-minded as Angel had billed him to the Scoobies. He couldn't get the girl out of his head no matter how many distractions he might pursue. Wherever he'd gone, whatever he'd seen, whoever he'd done, she was still there in his head, haunting him. Finally Spike gave in to the inevitable and came back home. It was either kill her or win her over somehow, and he had a feeling killing her would only make her haunt him more, so....

He picked up the trash bag of empties and broken glass and left the crypt. After dumping the refuse deep in the underbrush of the woods, he decided to take a cigarette break. He climbed on top of the low stone wall around the cemetery, one leg dangling, found his pack, shook out a fag and lit up. Blowing smoke toward the starry sky, he gazed around at his domain of toppled headstones and overgrown graves, and found that he felt....pretty good. He was still alive. Not too hungry at the moment. And though his plan to win the Slayer over was vague to say the least he at least HAD a plan now. Plus, there was the fact of seeing Buffy again...soon! He couldn't wait just to be near her.

        *********

Buffy felt the neck-tingling increase. She was getting closer to her target. She stopped still and listened. The tiny pffft of a lighting match and a spark of light near the perimeter of the cemetery caught her attention. A dim figure sitting on the wall, shock of white hair lit by the moonlight....her heart stalled in her chest. "Spike's back," she murmured. Instantly, all her other worries dispersed. What did this mean, 'Spike's back'? Where has he been? Why is he back? Has he gotten the chip out? How do I find out? Will I have to kill him tonight? and (quietly) Can I do it? Yes I can. I've done it before, killed a lover.

A lover?

Spike as "former lover". Huh, she'd never thought of him like THAT before.

The whole wedding fiasco had been buried as deep as she could push it into her subconscious for most of a year. Other than dealing with annulment papers and having to see Spike's stupid face around town, she hadn't thought of any of it...at all. Besides, there was Riley to distract her and delight her and to make sweet, sweet love with. It made it easy to forget that whole crazy interlude and move on. Until she followed Riley one night, caught him getting a suck-job from a vamp, received his ultimatum, then helplessly watched him fly out of her life. Buffy was still trying to sort that one out; she had caught her boyfriend in a whorehouse and HE was the one making her feel guilty for not caring enough? Go figure!

She sighed...again. She seemed to spend a lot of time sighing these days. Okay! Now it was time to test Spike. Find out if the chip was still in place, and screw all these ancient memories. Maybe 'screw' wasn't the best vocab to use given the circumstances. Buffy focused her attention, raised her stake and moved toward her one-time nemesis.

        *********** Spike sensed her presence mere seconds before she knocked him off the wall and they rolled over and over across the ground. He lifted his hands defensively as the Slayer straddled him and pummeled his face.

"Fuck, Slayer! Cut it out!" he howled, as he slipped into vamp face and bared his fangs. When she didn't stop, he grabbed her wrists and twisted - hard! Instantly the lightening jolt speared his brain, and he let go of her with a cry and clutched at his head. This seemed to satisfy Buffy. She got up and began brushing grass off her clothes.

Spike pushed himself to a sitting position, and began massaging his aching head. He looked reproachfully up at her.

"Good to see you again, too! Thanks for the tumble."

"Sorry," she replied, sounding anything but. "I had to make sure you were still neutered after your little trip abroad."

A trickle of blood ran from Spike's nose. He sniffed and wiped it on the back of his hand, and was going to have a taste until he remembered Buffy's revulsion last time he'd sampled in front of her. No time like the present to start making a new impression. He wiped his hand off on the grass.

"Well, competent health care is hard to find these days. Couldn't get a surgeon to suit my needs, so I thought I'd come back here to SunnyD and see how the old gang was doing." For the first time he took a good look at Buffy's matchstick-thin figure. "Christ, Slayer, what the hell happened to you? Haven't you heard? The emaciated waif look is out. Buxom and healthy is back in."

Buffy just shook her head and started to walk away. Spike jumped up to follow her.

"What's the matter? Soldier Boy can't afford to take you out for a meal now and again?" His inner voice was screaming at him to shut up, that insults probably weren't the best way to win his lady-love, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth mind.

"Shut up, Spike," she said dully. He could tell right away her heart wasn't in it. Where was the witty comeback? The sharp repartee? Something was definitely up with the girl.

"You depressed, Goldilocks? What happened? Someone run over your dog?"

She looked over at him, pacing along at her side, and her eyes were huge and shimmering with tears. His heart melted.

Now I've done it, he thought. His tone slipped instantly from cutting sarcasm to honest concern. "Buffy. What's the matter? One of your friends buy it?" A hopeful thought occurred. "Finn?!"

Her answer was almost inaudible. "My mom."

"Oh," he said quietly. They walked along in silence for a few paces, while he tried to recall the appropriate human response to a death in the family. "I'm...sorry to hear that. She was a fine woman, your mum. Treated me proper." And as he said it, he realized it was true and that he didn't have to work to manufacture a sad tone. Though he'd only talked with her a couple of times, Joyce had struck him as a lovely person, for a human.

"How did she go?" he asked.

"A brain hemorrhage," she said, succinctly.

"When?" he asked.

"A couple of days after Riley left."

"Oh." Spike managed to maintain the same quiet, reverent tone, though his heart was bursting with delight. One huge roadblock to his Buffy-winning plan had just been swept out of the way like a dam in a flood. The way was clear, all he had to do was jump through a few hoops and he'd have her! Surely the sad little girl needed a strong, manly shoulder to cry on.

Buffy brushed away tears impatiently, squared her shoulders and adopted her usual tough tone, "Look. I really don't want to talk about this with you. You're back. Fine. Just stay out of my way and don't get into any trouble and we can coexist, okay?" She began to walk faster. He had to trot to keep up.

"Hey, I'm being sincere, here! Is there anything I can do to help?"

She stopped and rounded on him, her voice dripping with venom. "Not unless you can bring my mom back, and Dawn already tried THAT! And not unless you know some secret way to vanquish a hell bitch, who's the pain in my ass these days."

"Your little sis took a turn at the witchcraft?! She all right?"

"Oh she's just peachy for a kid who lost her mom and found out she's...adopted...all in one week. She's depressed and angry, that's what she is!" Buffy stormed.

Given her growing fury, Spike thought it best to steer the subject into new waters. "What's the story on the new Big Bad, then? Sounds like she's a spot of trouble."

"I guess you could say that, if you consider an all-powerful, rampaging lunatic a spot of trouble. She's unbeatable." Buffy finished in a small, hopeless voice, "And right now, even if I knew what to do, I just don't have the energy to take her on. Plus there is the usual assortment of minions and a merry band of knights running around causing trouble."

"I'll help you," Spike responded. "Do some asking around and see what I can find out. You don't have to handle all this alone, Slayer."

For the first time she looked him in the eye, held his gaze for almost a full minute. His heart beat faster, or would have, and he tried to look as forthright and dependable as her tin soldier. "I mean it," he added after the silence had drawn out to the uncomfortable stage. He spread his hands wide. "No ulterior motives. No cash."

"And why would you do that?" Buffy asked evenly. "Everyone's got an angle, Spike."

"Honestly, I've got nothing better to do," he answered. "You're in a bind. I've got time on my hands. Maybe you could throw a blood pack my way now and again if it makes you feel better."

Buffy continued to stare at him, weighing his words.

"Besides," he continued. "Since your honey took a powder and I AM your ex after all, I feel a certain responsibility...."

Buffy rolled her eyes, turned, and walked on. "I thought we were never mentioning that again, Spike. It was a mistake. An aberration." He started to follow her, and she waved an imperious hand at him. "Go now. Help out or don't. Whatever. Just don't try to imagine some connection between us that isn't there. That's bordering on creepy!"

Spike scowled, scuffed his boot in the grass, then turned in the opposite direction and headed back to his crypt. As usual, he'd managed to get off on the wrong foot with the girl even when he was trying his hardest. But damn, she looked good tonight, didn't she? All concentration camp survivor insults aside, she was still the finest thing he'd ever seen. And she hadn't outright turned his help down. There would be more chances to make a good impression and he would rise to the occasion every time.

        *********

A small smile crept across Buffy's face as she walked toward home. It was the first real smile, not the falsely reassuring ones she offered Dawn or her friends, that had cracked her countenance in weeks. Her heart felt lighter than it had since Riley left when the shit began hitting the fan, piece by piece. It was true, Spike was annoying, but he was strong and resourceful, and those were two qualities Buffy really needed right now.

Her stomach began to rumble loudly just as she passed the Doublemeat Palace. Usually the idea of all that fat clogging up her arteries and settling in her thighs totally grossed her out, but tonight she felt like she could eat a Doublemeat Medley, a biggie order of fries AND a chocolate shake. Funny, she hadn't noticed her clothes were getting loose 'til Spike mentioned it. A ravenous cavern opened in her belly and she followed her carnivorous instincts into the restaurant.

        ********* Less than 24 hours passed before Spike received his first visitor to the crypt. It was late afternoon when his door flew open and banged against the wall, announcing the entrance of the Slayer and her kid sister. Without exchanging pleasantries, Buffy began making demands.

"Spike, you said you'd be willing to help me, well I've got a big favor to ask. This is my sister, Dawn. You might remember her from the time you and Dru tried to kidnap her and I kicked your asses. Anyway, this hell-god Glory knows where we live now. I have to go deal with her, and I want you to keep Dawn safe. You're the only one who could protect her if..."

Spike examined the girl, who was shifting back and forth from foot to foot, clutching her school bag. Poor kid looked like she was more frightened of him than of this Glory. Well, he'd soon put her at ease. Inroads. It was all about inroads into the Slayer's life.

"Sure thing. The little bit is safe with me." He gestured toward his lone chair. "Make yourself at home, cutie. I don't have any juice boxes to offer, but there might be Doritos around here somewhere." Seeing Dawn still hesitating, he added, "By the way...sorry about that ugly incident couple years back. Didn't mean to scare you. It was just business, you know. Me Vampire - She Slayer, and all. It was a different time in my life, back then. You're safe as houses with the new me."

Dawn glared at him, but she flounced over to the chair and sat down. Then she glared up at Buffy. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? This doesn't seem like a very good plan to me! I mean, Glory's already beaten you up a couple of times and this guy," she gestured at Spike, "looks way too scrawny to protect anybody!"

"Hey, watch it!" the vampire complained.

"Dawn! Please just try to cooperate for once. I'm doing the best I can." Buffy's voice was edged with annoyance and despair. The girl just crossed her arms and dug herself deeper into the armchair, refusing to meet her sister's imploring eyes. Buffy sighed and turned to Spike. She fixed him with her most dangerous Look and muttered, "When I come back for her, she'd better be exactly as I left her, or...."

"You can count on me, Slayer," Spike responded with a nod. "Just do what you have to do, and...be careful, eh? Don't want to be stuck with your sis forever, if you take my meaning."

Buffy turned and left the crypt. Spike turned and regarded the kid with consternation. How was he supposed to entertain her with the TV gone and all? What did one do with a 14-year-old girl, other than kill and eat her?

"You play poker, Little Bit?" he asked.

        ********** A half hour later, Dawn was raking in another pot of Doritos and gloating over her winnings.

"That's how many in a row, Spike? Three hands? Four?" She giggled.

"Rrrr," he growled menacingly. "Didn't your mum ever teach you not to be a bad winner?" Instantly he realized his faux pas, as the smile was extinguished from her face. "Aw fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't think..."

"It's okay," she answered, trying to sound matter-of-fact. "Sometimes I forget, too. I'll come home from school thinking, 'Wait'll mom hears about what Lisa said to Mrs. Branch!' or something, then I come in the house...and remember."

"I'm sorry," Spike said again, quietly.

"It hurts," Dawn agreed, then added thoughtfully, "Of course, she wasn't really my mother but that doesn't change how I feel."

"Buffy told me about that. Yeah, must've been a bit of a shock to find that out."

Dawn looked at him strangely. "Just a bit," she said ironically. "I kind of went berserk at first. Cut myself to see if I'd bleed green or something! Giles' diary didn't tell me what exactly a Key is made of."

"Mm," the vampire replied noncommittally, beginning to suspect there was more to this adoption story than Buffy had shared.

"I mean, if someone is just a made-up human, do you think they're really real? Like, if Glory does get ahold of me and use me to open a portal, what happens after? Do I just cease to exist? Can I go to heaven and be with mom?" The girl was gathering steam now and Spike let her roll. "Am I a fairytale creature like you? Can someone who's make-believe have a soul? And how 'bout everyone's memories of me? How can that work out so perfectly with everything meshing just right in peoples' heads without there being like an alternate universe or something? And how can it all feel so real? What am I?" Her voice was rising steadily with each question, and Spike was afraid he was going to have to end up doing some hand-holding and back patting to stop her hysteria, when suddenly the door burst open and five, short, brown-robed figures invaded the crypt.

Without hesitation, Spike pushed Dawn toward the ladder to the subterranean room. "Run! Hide!" he hissed, and leaped to his feet ready to tear the little blighters limb from limb. They didn't look like they'd be much trouble. The scabby-faced leader approached him, hands spread wide and said obsequiously, "If you would kindly come with us, sir. The magnificent and bewitching Glorificus requests your humble presence. We would like to escort you to our well-endowed, most resplendent holy one with a minimum of fuss, so if you'll just..." He gestured toward the door. Spike punched him in the face, knocking him across the room. Instantly, the others were swarming over him like a mass of insects...maybe fire ants, because they seemed to be stinging him. Spike dropped like a stone under the assault of several taser blasts that crackled through his body, then lay still.

Jinx pulled himself up, prodded the vampire with one foot, then directed the other minions to truss him up for delivery to their beauteous mistress.

"Shall we go after the child as well?" one of them asked.

"No. Glorificus is only interested in her Key. She could've taken this girl when she was in her home. It is obvious to me that the man is the one the Slayer is protecting, otherwise why would she have come here to warn him right after our mistress' visit? And she brought her sister to guard him as she searches for our fortress."

There was a murmur of assent, and the little servants quickly bound and dragged away Spike's unconscious body. As the door closed, Dawn's head bobbed up from the hole leading to the crypt's lower level. Her eyes were huge and frightened and her white-knuckled fists clung to the top rung of the ladder. Her protector had been taken right from under her nose, what should she do?

"Go find Buffy!" she told herself, then leaped up and set off at a run.

        ********* Spike regained consciousness when a stinging blow knocked his head to one side. He was hanging from a loop in the ceiling of a posh hotel room, his hands trussed together above his head and his feet barely touching the floor: shirtless, shoeless and alarmingly helpless. He looked up to see his attacker, a gorgeous woman with eyes that told a different tale. One wolf recognizes another, and Spike knew he was in for it. The goddess drew her hand back to deliver another heavy blow, then paused and stroked his cheek instead.

"So you're finally awake, my precious! I've been looking for you a long, long time you know." She leaned in and breathed him deeply. "Funny, you don't smell like I thought you would. In fact...." Her long nail raked his chest and blood oozed to the surface. She ran her finger through it and brought it to her lips. Instantly her face dissolved in a grimace of disgust and she spat it out. She stomped her foot and faced her cowering minions. "This...this...is NOT MY KEY! You imbeciles! What were you thinking? This isn't even human. It's a stupid vampire!"

As she raged around the room flinging things and knocking over lackeys, Spike tested his chains. There seemed to be the slightest give to the iron loop attached to the ceiling. He began pulling slowly, inexorably on his bonds. Glory finally seemed to have come to the end of her rant, because she returned to stand in front of him.

"Unless..." The goddess ran her hand thoughtfully over Spike's shoulder, down his chest and caressed his stomach. "The Slayer was talking with you last night. Maybe there are confidences she shared? Little secrets you might like to pass on to me?" Drawing close, she pressed her red lips against his ear. "I can make this very easy for you, doll. Maybe even...pleasurable. Why don't you tell me what you know about my Key and I'll take you down and make you a little more comfortable, hm?"

"Slayer doesn't confide in me," Spike said. "Look, lady, I just got back in town. Don't know a thing about any of this, so why don't you let me go and we'll forget all about it?"

"I think..." Glory stepped away from him and regarded his hair critically, then began tufting it artistically with her fingers, "not! I'm thinking anyone with a connection to the Slayer is gonna be useful to me. So why don't you just..." she rattled the chain he was suspended from so he swayed slightly back and forth, "hang in there." She gave him a friendly slap on the cheek that about drove his cheekbone into his eye socket, then sashayed out of the room. Spike blinked away the tears that welled up in his right eye and sighed. It was probably going to be a very long night.

        ********** Buffy had returned to the abandoned warehouse where she'd first seen Glory, and then checked out every abandoned factory, warehouse, store or home in Sunnydale that she could find, but with no luck. "I'm not going to wait around anymore. I'm taking the fight to her," had sounded seriously cool back at the Magic Box, but hours of wandering aimlessly had taken a lot of the wind out of the Slayer's sails. Now she just wanted to go home and put her feet up.

She thought about her decision to leave Dawn with Spike and hoped it hadn't been totally insane. There was no reason to trust him. He'd never done anything for her without being paid and it wasn't long ago that he had helped Adam by separating the gang. It was even a shorter time ago that he had tried to have the Initiative doctor remove his chip. But when she was racking her brain for a safe house for Dawn, miraculously Spike's place was the first that came to mind. Somewhere, bone-deep, Buffy knew he would keep his word - that he would protect her sister even from a goddess. Still she kind of wished she'd had the sense to remind Dawn to keep her Keyness to herself.

"Buffy! Buffy!" a tiny voice screamed. It sounded like it was coming from a few blocks away. It sounded like - Dawn?! Buffy took off at a dead run toward the source.

She turned a corner and there was her sister, wild eyed and sweating, gasping for breath as she ran.

"Buffy!" Dawn threw her arms around the Slayer and hugged tight. "They took him!" she wheezed. "They took...took Spike."

"Who? Who took?"

"Glory's people. Ugly little monsters with big noses and scabby faces. Brown robes. Seriously ugly! They tasered him, tied him up, and dragged him away. Buffy, they think he's the Key!"

"What?! Where were you?" Buffy exclaimed. "Why didn't they..."

"They saw me but didn't think I was important. I hid in Spike's basement 'til they were gone." Dawn heaved a few breaths and clutched at a stitch in her side.

"Good. You're safe then. Glory still doesn't have any idea who she's looking for. She'll probably torture Spike. Thank God he's got absolutely nothing to tell her."

"About me?" Dawn asked in a tiny voice. "Um..."

"Dawn?" Buffy's voice rose.

"Well, Spike said he knew about me! We were having this conversation when the minions showed up and, uh, I had kind of mentioned it 'cause I thought he already knew. It was really YOUR fault. You shoulda told me he wasn't in on the secret. How could I know?!"

"All right. All right." Buffy murmured, tensely. "It's going to be okay. Spike's tough. He'll keep quiet. I'm...sure of it. We just have to find where Glory's holed up and rescue him before he breaks." She looked at Dawn's stricken face. "Don't worry!! It will be okay!" She was amazed at how easily the lie rolled off her tongue, and wondered what in the world had possessed her to leave her baby sister in the care of a conniving creature like Spike. They were doomed!

To be continued...

"Still Bound", chapter 2 by BonnieD

Set about a year after "Something Blue". Things have played out close to canon but a little twisted in my Buffyverse due to the close encounter Buffy 'n' Spike have already shared. If events of season 5 are out of order, combined, telescoped, or otherwise rearranged, it's because I needed to do so. Hope you enjoy this continuation of the "Golden Bands" AU.

Special thanks to my very first beta reader, Zyrya, who helped give direction and shape to the story by making me identify my ultimate goal and useful technical advice about the writing itself.

        ********

The hole in Spike's chest where Glory had poked her finger through and diddled around with his heart was still seeping a steady stream of blood. He'd been gut-punched so many times that if he hadn't taken care over the years to develop abs of steel he probably would have sustained some major damage. His eyes were both well on the way to swelling shut and he was relatively certain his cheekbone was shattered, which really pissed him off 'cause an asymmetrical face - not so pretty, and he needed to stay pretty to attract Buffy.

His arms were aching continuously now, right at the socket joints just like the old days. Luckily the bitch didn't know that this was a cakewalk for him. Spike could hang around in chains for days and had done it on many an occasion. 'Course it had been a few years, but it was like stalking prey. You didn't lose the touch just because you hadn't done it in awhile, and you didn't forget how to surf the pain, not when you had been trained by a master torturer and a pixie-touched madwoman.

All this reminiscing about bondage and ball gags was making him a little misty-eyed and kind of horny. He shifted in his tight jeans and wished his hand were free just long enough to adjust his bits - and thank god she hadn't had a go at the crotch area yet!

The door opened and Glory was back for another round. Spike steeled himself.

"All right, you've had some 'me' time to think about what I said. Now what's it gonna be? Are we going to do things the pleasant way or the hard way, honey?" she asked as she sauntered across the room. "I KNOW you've got some info for me. I can see it in those baby blues. For being Evil you're an awful bad liar."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Spike muttered. "Like I told you before, just got back in town."

Glory grabbed his chin tight enough to make his jawbone creak. "Look, sweetie, I know you've got the hots for the Slayer. I can smell it on you every time I mention her name. But Slayers and vampires? Not a match made in heaven. She's never gonna give you what you want so why don't you give ME what I want? Easy as pie."

His nostrils flared and he glowered at her. Glory rolled her eyes and thrust his face away, snapping his head back on his neck. "Come ON! Who do you think you're protecting? And why would you bother? I'm gonna find out sooner or later so save yourself some pain and me some time and just...."

"All right," he hissed, eyes narrowed. That clever inner voice he never listened to was screaming at him to continue to play dumb or, even better, give her what she wanted, but as usual Spike tuned it out.

"I'll tell you." He lowered his voice and Glory leaned in, smiling happily, eyes sparkling with excitement. "You ever seen that TV show where the bloke gives out prizes...?

        ********* While Spike was successfully pissing off the hell-god and spurring her to new heights of cruelty with his witless tongue, Buffy reconnoitered with Giles to decide her next move. She had no clue where to find Glory until, in a convergence of need and luck that could only occur on the Hellmouth, one of the scabby minions fell practically into her lap when she caught him spying outside the Magic Box. Under Giles' influence the creature was coerced into showing them the way to the hotel where Glory had set up shop.

Buffy was surprised when she saw what beautiful lodgings her nemesis had commandeered. Subterranean caverns and burnt out buildings seemed to house her adversaries more often than not. Then she entered the hotel and found that, though sumptuously decorated, it was deserted - up for sale evidently - which would explain why Glory's disfigured servants could come and go without question.

Buffy, Xander and Giles barely had time to scan the lobby before a contingent of Glory's minions rushed them. Although small, they were wiry and seemed to be everywhere at once like a gang of sewer rats. A pair of them had Giles backed to the wall, swinging his sword to keep them at bay. Xander lost his weapon almost immediately when one of the creatures delivered a sharp blow to his wrist that forced him to drop the axe and sent it sliding across the floor. He dove for it and was knocked flat and straddled by his foe. The rest of the servants went straight for Buffy, keeping prudently out of her range as she spun and kicked, ducked and lunged, parried and thrusted like a dervish.

        ********

Spike's eyes were now so swollen he could barely make out the shape of his tormentor as she drew back her hand for another blow.

"Talk, you melatonin-deficient slug! I know you know! So tell me. WHERE - IS - MY - KEY?"

Suddenly the punches that punctuated each word stopped. Curious, Spike managed to force his right eye open and was amazed and amused to see Glory's features skewing and rippling like an oil slick of colors as she morphed into another form. Her curly blond hair shortened to floppy brown locks. The very bone structure of her face and body audibly crackled as it shifted and the flesh made yummy slushy sounds that made Spike's mouth water.

The god's mouth fell open and she moaned, "No! No! Nooooo!" Then, as quickly as Spike himself was able to vamp out, Glory turned into a man. A dark-haired bloke still wearing the skank's strapless red dress stood there blinking, looking like a very ugly drag queen suddenly thrust on stage in the middle of the big finale. Despite his pain, Spike snorted with laughter.

The guy focused on the chained vampire and groaned in dismay. "What have you done now, you insane bitch?" He reached a tentative hand toward his victim. "I am SO sorry." He looked around for a key to unlock the manacles and spied a couple of the minions sneaking from the room. "What is going on here? Who is this guy and what was Glory doing with him?"

The robed servant put his hands together and inclined his head. "The superlative, stupendous Glorificus has been questioning this humble being about the whereabouts of her Key, O Gentle Ben."

Glory's alter-ego was already unlocking Spike's shackles as he listened to the explanation. The moment he was free, Spike stumbled on his weakened legs. He regained his balance, then quickly wrapped the chain around the young man's neck and began to strangle him. Almost instantly the chip fired. Pain that dwarfed all of Glory's torture strobed through his brain. The bitch's counterpart was human?! How was that possible?

Ben tore the chain from his throat and whirled around to face Spike, hands held up placatingly.

"Listen. I know you're upset. And I'd love to be able to explain this, but...." He shrugged. "Why don't you just go on home and try to get over it? In about a minute, you'll forget you even saw what you, uh, thought you saw."

"Sir," Jinx protested. "This lowly one has information critical to our splendiferous...."

"Didn't I stab you once?" Ben interrupted, rounding on the little man. "How could you possibly imagine I would do anything to help her?"

"You must bow to the inevitable, your lordship. Our munificent and praiseworthy Lady will find her Key and the portal to her dimension will be opened. Then we will all return home to our.ah.haphazard world of chaos and disharmony for ever and ever..."

"In Glorificus we trust!" the other minions intoned solemnly.

"And I wink out of existence!" the young man exploded. "Not on your little scaly life! Not if there's any way I can stop it. I'll turn the Key over to the Knights of Byzantium personally or dispose of it myself if I have to!! Glory is not going to ruin my life!"

Spike took the opportunity to stagger out of the room before the annoying little zealots or the Good Twin could gather their wits. He lurched down the hall toward the elevator doors, pried them open and tumbled down the shaft to land on top of the compartment with a thud. Opening the grille in the ceiling of the lift, he dropped through to the floor only to feel the elevator begin to reascend toward the level he had just escaped.

"Bugger!" Spike scrambled for the emergency button, stopping the compartment between floors. Using his bare hands, he crow-barred the doors open with all the strength left in his battered and abused body. He tumbled down once more, this time to the lobby floor.

He was stunned to find himself witness to a full-out battle between the minions and Buffy's Avengers. Giles crossed the lobby floor right in front of him, hacking and slashing with his battered blade as he pressed his foes toward the stairs. Harris had one of the opponents in a headlock and was ramming him repeatedly into the front desk, scarring the beautiful mahogany finish. And Buffy..

Spike's heart swelled as he feasted on the glorious sight of the Slayer, teeth bared, grunting in that sexy way she had with each punch and kick, pummeling through several of the dwarfish lackeys. Methodical yet ferocious, she was a killing machine and he loved her more than ever. It was a bloody rescue party! She had come for him!

One of the minions was cast his way and sprawled across him. Spike slipped into game face and tore into his jugular, slurping up the life-giving liquid. Rowr!!! He was starving. Even demon blood tasted good tonight.

Giles and Xander forced the last two adversaries into retreating up the stairs. Buffy, grimacing in disgust when she saw the vampire feasting on Glory's minion, hauled Spike up by one arm.

"Come on!" she shouted to her companions, who needed no more prompting to follow her and Spike as they burst through the lobby doors into the cool night.

"You...you came for me," Spike panted as she hustled him along. He stumbled and she took his dead weight when he started to slip to the ground.

"Xander, help me!" she commanded as she tried to right Spike. Xander rolled his eyes but complied, hauling the vampire's arm around his shoulders. Supported between them, Spike focused all his concentration on putting one foot in front of the other.

"To my flat," Giles said decisively. "Glory probably knows where all of us reside by now but it may take her longer to find us there."

The pink light of early morning was already suffusing the sky when they arrived at the Watcher's home, a place Spike had never dreamed he would be so grateful to see again. They entered and were instantly surrounded by a flock of clucking, nurturing females - brewing tea, fetching blankets, fluffing pillows and administering bandages and aspirin.

Spike was dragged to Giles' spare room and tucked into bed. He revelled in the womanly attention, which lasted just long enough for Tara and Willow to bind his wounds and Dawn to serve him a nicely warmed bloodpack before Buffy shut it down by shooing everyone else from the room and closing the door. She turned to him, arms folded, and regarded him with a long, searching stare.

"What?" he mumbled through his dislocated jaw.

"How much did she get out of you?"

"Nothing!!" Spike was deeply offended. He struggled to sit up.

"Glory tortured you for, what, five or six hours and you told her nothing?" Buffy sounded incredulous.

"God's sake, Slayer, you asked me to look after your little sis. Why'd you do it if you don't trust me?" He sank back into the pillows with a disgusted sigh.

Buffy watched him a moment longer, then stepped to the bedside and brushed her fingers through his tousled curls once. "All right," she assented quietly. "Sorry. You did good, Spike." She rested her hand fleetingly on the side of his swollen face, then pulled back and prepared to leave. "Uh, get some sleep now."

His eyes were already closed before she turned away.

Buffy was halfway through the door when Spike's gravelly voice called her back. "Almos' forgot. Somethin' you should know...'bout the bitch."

"Yeah?"

"She turns into someone else...a human. Bloke named Ben. I think you could get to her then...." he mumbled, already drifting off to sleep.

For an instant Buffy's eyes widened in amazement and she opened her mouth to ask a question, then a blank look came over her face. She shook her head as if to clear it as circuits in her brain blew the information right back out again. She closed the door behind her, and Spike slept.

        **********

The next morning, or actually afternoon for the Scoobies who had slept the day away, Buffy woke when an arm smacked across her face. She pushed it away irritably, and its owner grunted and rolled over. Her back ached abominably from lying on a thin quilt over a hardwood floor with...she dug under herself and came out with a beaded, macramé purse...Dawn's purse digging into her. And the delicate whistle of Tara snoring hadn't been exactly conducive to a good day's sleep.

Buffy sat up, stretching and yawning, and looked over her sleeping comrades. Anya and Xander were curled around each other like a yin and yang symbol. Lucky them. Ditto Willow, whose arm had just whapped her in the face, and Tara. Willow was spooned around her lover's back, nuzzling her neck even in their sleep. Dawn was sacked out as if she were in her bed at home. She had been given the couch and was sprawled all over it, arms and legs jutting out at impossible angles.

Buffy rotated her neck to release the crick in it, and wished she'd accepted Giles' offer to use his bed. The younger people had all insisted that a slumber party on the living room floor was no problem and that his old bones needed the rest more. She glanced upstairs and thought about the occupant of the other small bedroom. Even Xander hadn't quibbled about letting Spike rest in comfort after the beating the vampire had received from Glory. Buffy wondered how he was doing. Then she wondered why he'd done it. What had made this perverse creature remain loyal as a hell-god beat him to a bloody pulp? Well, the answer was in the question she decided. Sheer perversity. Spike didn't like anyone telling him what to do. That had to be it.

She rolled her shoulders once and started to rise to her feet. Instantly a wave of nausea rushed over her. She took a deep breath, waiting for her stomach to settle, and tottered into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. As she popped the packet into the coffee-maker and filled the carafe, Buffy began her daily task: worrying. "It's what I do best these days," she murmured aloud. "Pretty soon they'll be calling me 'The Chosen One - Worrier of the People'."

Rummaging in Giles' cupboards, she located some bizarre kind of British crackers and wondered why the man couldn't eat Saltines like everyone else. How many years had he been in the U.S. now? She opened the bag, sniffed at the cracker she extracted, then began nibbling it. Her stomach started to settle.

This nausea was not a good sign. Not at all. Everyone knows when someone coughs at the beginning of a movie they're going to die by the final frame, and if a woman is shown throwing up in the morning, well.... But it couldn't be possible, could it? Not on top of everything else. Hadn't she worked in the service of Good, protecting humanity for most her young life. Wasn't it time for the higher powers to cut her some slack? "Please god, no," she prayed silently.

Buffy was an expert at living in the land of denial but even she had her limits and her inner voice told her that today she must quit stalling around and buy the damn test. At least knowing would be better than this awful wondering.

"Good morning, Buffy." Giles' unexpected voice made her drop the box of crackers on the floor. She spun around.

"Jeez! Don't sneak up like that!" she complained , bending to retrieve the box.

He frowned at her quizzically.

"Sorry," she amended, a bright smile flashing across her face. "My bad. I'm not a morning person. Not even at..." she looked at the kitchen clock, "2:30 in the afternoon."

"That's quite alright. Did you find something to eat? I believe I have a box of cereal in the pantry..."

"I'm good," Buffy assured him. "Got my crackers and hey, English guy's actually got a coffee maker in addition to the tea kettle!" She gestured to the percolating brew.

Giles began to lay out fruit and various juices from the refrigerator for his guests. Buffy continued to chew her crackers thoughtfully while she watched him.

"So," she began, "how's Spike this morning? Did you take a look?"

"Yes. Yes. He appears quite...like he's been run over by a truck rather than a steamroller today. Quite an improvement." He handed her a blood pack from the fridge. "If you don't mind..."

"Sure." Buffy made a moue of distaste as she cut the bag and glopped the cold liquid into a mug, then set the mug in the microwave.

"Buffy," Giles continued. "I know you told us that Spike has sworn he didn't betray Dawn to Glory, but do you really think it's wise to trust him? Spike hasn't exactly been known for his veracity in the past."

"I know his track record, Giles. I lived it, remember? But we don't have a lot of choice. Maybe it was stupid of me to entrust Dawn to him. I don't know. I just couldn't think of anyone else strong enough to protect her. And now, well if he's lying then Glory may be storming over here to get Dawn as we speak, but if he isn't then maybe we're safe - for just a little longer."

Giles met her eyes, nodded, and returned to paring an apple while Buffy bore the now steaming cup of blood up to their patient.

She knocked softly on the door to the guest room, then realized how ridiculous that was given the circumstances and entered slowly, balancing the overly full mug. Spike was still sound asleep, so Buffy crossed to the nightstand where she deposited his breakfast.

It was strange watching him sleep. Without breath causing his chest to rise and fall he should have looked dead, which of course he was, but she could see his eyes moving rapidly behind puffy, closed lids and occasionally a muscle would twitch or a limb move involuntarily. He didn't look morbid at all. He looked like Spike asleep.

She ran a practiced eye over his injuries. The dark bruises marring his pale skin would fade; the cuts heal seamlessly. It was the broken bones that worried her. Without a doctor to set them properly would they grow back together like a poorly put together jigsaw puzzle? She was sure his ribs were cracked, and one leg had seemed almost useless when they tried to walk him here yesterday. But Glory had done the most damage to his beautiful face and it was a crime to let a smashed cheek or jawbone mar his perfection.

Buffy mentally spanked herself for dwelling on his looks. He'd heal up one way or the other, and what did it matter as long as he was still functioning and useful? Again the very obvious question of why he was being useful to her reared its ugly head and again Buffy bashed it down.

She debated whether to wake him and offer him food or let him sleep some more, but she knew vampires healed faster the more blood they ingested so she leaned over to gently poke his arm.

"Wakey wakey, Spike. Breakfast," she sing-songed.

"I AM awake," he mumbled. "Can't open m'fuckin' eyes."

"Oh." Buffy was taken aback. "Do you.do you need a cold compress or something to take the swelling down? Maybe some aspirin?"

"No. Just feed me," he rasped, wildly reaching out and almost knocking the mug off the table.

"Okay. Chill. Let me get you set up here." She went around to the other side of the bed, plumped the pillows and lifted the patient to a sitting position, then she reached across him and retrieved the blood. "Now be careful. It's really full and kind of hot." She guided it to his lips and he cursed when the liquid burned them.

"How long d'you leave it in?" he complained.

"Sorry I'm not an expert at vampire cuisine," she snapped. He was still frowning like a pouty baby, so she sighed, blew on the already lukewarm blood and offered the mug again. Judging it acceptable, he began sucking it down awkwardly through his torn and swollen lips.

"So what did you think of Glory," Buffy asked after a minute of listening to his slurping. "Did you notice anything that could be useful to us? Any signs of weakness or ways to get at her through the minions? Any easy ways in and out of the building so we could sneak in and go through her things? Tell me exactly what happened the whole time she had you. There may be something you don't think is important that could prove crucial."

Spike frowned again. "Didn't I tell you last night? Yeah, I found out something all right. Glory changes into human form. Think you could take care of her then. No godlike powers an' such."

"Glory changes.." Buffy trailed off. "Well how do you know she becomes human? What does she look like? Maybe we could capture and cage her some way.?"

"Or kill him," Spike said.

"Kill who?"

"She changes into a man, a dark-haired fellow, 'bout six-foot, square-jawed type. I could point him out to you but I can't do the job myself. His name was Brian.no, Ben.that's it."

Spike peered through slitted eyes at the fuzzy image of Buffy looming over him looking increasingly excited. When he mentioned the name Ben, however, she froze for a second then resumed the conversation as if she'd missed half of it.

"So you're saying Glory takes on another form. Maybe we could find out what she changes into and kill it."

"Uh. Yeah. That's what I'm sayin'." The effort to talk was making his jaw hurt and trying to decipher Buffy's strange attitude was making his head ache. "And I'm pretty sure I said it last night too. We just have to find this Ben guy and."

"Ben? I know a Ben. He's an intern at the hospital. He's a real sweet guy. You know him?"

"Met him yesterday," Spike said dryly. "Lovely fellow. Look, are you off your nut or what? I'm telling you that Glory is Ben and Ben's Glory."

As if she hadn't heard him, Buffy plowed on, "What brought him up anyway? I thought you were going to tell me something about Glory."

Spike stared at her for a moment then said quietly, "I think I need to rest now." He slouched down in the bed pulling his pillow with him, and closed his eyes. "Check back with me at lunch time. Maybe I'll have more information for you then."

"Come on Spike. Quit playing around," Buffy protested. "We are all seriously in trouble, even vampires, if we don't do something about this evil bitch. I don't know what her exact plans are but world domination is a safe bet."

"Oh!" Spike squinted up at her. "That's right! I almost forgot. The Key. It's to open a portal back to her home dimension." He laughed harshly. "That's all she's here for - dizzy bint lost the key to her front door!"

"Well.that can't be good," Buffy said thoughtfully. "How exactly will she 'use' Dawn? And if this portal is opened wouldn't things from her world be able to come here?"

"Stands to reason," Spike agreed. He handed her his nearly empty mug in which the pig's blood was now congealing. "As for how she will use your girl, I'll wager blood. It's always the blood. Carries the essence of what a being is, you know."

Buffy stared down at the mug in her hands. Suddenly one hand flew to her lips and her throat worked convulsively as she tried not to retch.

"Come now. Did my breakfast offend your delicate sensibilities, love?" Spike watched her fight her nausea and wondered what was up with the girl. Considering all the pressure she was under it was not surprising she might have stomach problems, but there was something else.something different he couldn't quite put his finger on. He would have to think about it when his head didn't hurt so much.

"I'm fine!" she snapped when she was able to talk again. "A little stomach flu, that's all." She rose and prepared to sweep from the room and then stopped, one hand absently smoothing the blanket at the foot of the bed. "I almost forgot."

She stood there so long Spike became impatient and prodded, "Ye-es?"

"Dawn wanted.and I.well, we both wanted...to thank you for, you know, what you did yesterday. It was." She slowly lifted her eyes from her fidgeting hand to his face. "It was a..heroic..thing. Thank you."

Spike's eyes shifted to the side and he was suddenly intent on examining the lamp on the bedside table, but a tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Well don't make too much of it," he cautioned gruffly. "I just didn't like that pushy bitch trying to force me to talk. Stubbornness, that's what it was."

"Force you? Since when does anyone have to force you to talk, Spike?" Buffy lightly teased. "But the stubbornness? That I'll believe." She smiled at him - one of those full-on, 1,000 watt, California girl smiles that melted his core - and walked quickly from the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

        ******* "Holy fuck! What a stunner!" he muttered to himself as he stared at the closed door. That smile? It was an illustrated reminder of why he'd suffered through torture at Glory's hands. Oh yeah, he'd do it again for one of those.

Spike thought about Glory's Achilles heel. What would he do if he were an all-powerful god whose weakness was human mortality while in human form? Hide the weakness, of course. Seems vampires were immune to whatever mojo she cast, but if he spoke to any of the others he'd probably get the same reaction as Buffy had given him - an obtuse refusal to see what was right before their eyes. Typical.

He supposed it was just as well the humans couldn't wrap their minds around the Glory-Ben equation. Knowing Buffy the need to sacrifice one to save many would be unpalatable. She would be helpless to kill the man that hid the monster. Spike would have to take care of the matter himself. Maybe not personally, but he knew a guy..

        ********

After a day with the gang spent hashing and rehashing Spike's information about the Key and the fact that Glory changed into another form of some type, Buffy finally managed to find time alone late in the evening to patrol, pick up blood for the invalid vampire and check on her house. She also stopped and bought the item she now held in her shaking hands as she sat on the toilet seat in her mother's bathroom. Would it always be 'mom's bedroom', 'mom's bath' she wondered?

She stared at the incriminating evidence she held, waiting for it to turn another color, maybe a nice magenta or a subtle peach. Even olive green would be lovely right now. But the little stick remained a bright, cheerful baby blue.

"Riley, you're going to be a daddy," she murmured.

To be continued..

"Still Bound", chapter 3 by Bonnie

Spike's out to fix Ben's wagon. Buffy deals with the results of her pregnancy test. Everyone else lives their normal lives under the shadow of Glory. For those upset about Riley spawn. He's just a tool (in more ways than one!). Don't worry about it. Spike loves his Buffy any which way he can get her - even with baggage.

Thanks again to beta Zyrya for continuing to shuttle copy back and forth with me, forcing snappier descriptions, more coherent logic and technically correct writin'.

The second day after his run-in with Glory, Spike could get up from the bed and move around the room. He was already bored with being Dawn and Tara's pet project. If either girl plumped his pillow, smoothed his bedding or rewrapped his wounds one more time, he'd ... well, he'd probably grit his teeth, smile and say "thanks ever so" just as he had been doing. Anyway, having warm blood on demand was nice even if it was farm animal offal.

Wouldn't be long before he could get out, though. Then he'd solve this whole Glory problem, take the weight off Buffy's small shoulders and save the world. Be a hero. He made another slow, hobbling circuit of the room. Yes, his leg was healing up quite nicely.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he said, still astonished at how his status had changed from the bad old days when everyone felt they could barge into his crypt uninvited at any time, looking for information or help.

"Hey." Buffy slipped through the door then stood there shifting from foot to foot. She actually looked nervous...and pale. Her skin was as drained of color as his own.

"You look like hell, Slayer. What's up?" He considered that he would dig his own grave with his runaway mouth one day and wondered how he had always managed Dru with finesse yet he couldn't seem to stop himself from baiting and goading Buffy.

She shrugged. "Nothing. How 'bout yourself? You still look trashed."

"Do I? Sometimes it's a bitch not having a reflection. How's my face shaping up?" He moved in closer to Buffy, invading her personal space, and she stepped around him. There wasn't far to go in the tiny room.

"Pretty as ever," she said dryly.

"Good." He gave her his best lascivious grin.

Suddenly the Slayer was all business. "We still haven't been able to find out any more about this alternate personality of Glory's. Are you sure you don't remember anything else."

"Not a blessed thing." Spike had given up trying to explain the Glory-Ben connection.

Buffy sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Well, our next move is to try to capture one of the Bizarrium Knights to see what they know about Glory. I need to find out where they're holed up."

Spike followed her across the room. "I'll be right as rain in another day then I can help you. Why don't you take it easy 'til then? You really are looking a mite peaked. Maybe could do with some bed and broth, yeah?" He lifted a hand as if to touch her hair then dropped it to his side.

"I don't have time. Dawn doesn't have time," she protested, looking ready to fly into a million pieces.

He knelt before her and looked earnestly up into her face. "You'll do no one any good if you're so worn out and weak you get yourself killed," he said firmly. "One day more isn't going to make that much difference. You rest! Send Harris out on your scouting mission. Make the boy feel useful for a change. He won't be in any danger as long as he stays far enough away. Then, when he gives us a location, you and I can go in tomorrow night, guns blazing and bag ourselves a knight. All right?" He smiled winningly.

Buffy looked down at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She really did seem on the verge of falling apart. Slowly she nodded.

"I - I guess I could do with a little rest ... after my stomach flu," she admitted.

Spike's smile widened and this time he allowed his hand to caress her cheek for a brief moment. "That's my girl," he rumbled.

Buffy relaxed into his touch for all of half a second before frowning and rising quickly from the bed. Spike was forced to scramble backwards lest she knock him over.

"I have to go now," she said stiffly. "Uh ... you get some sleep too." She scurried from the room.

Spike rested on his heels, his right leg screaming at him to hurry the hell up and straighten it out, and watched her go. "Inroads, baby," he said, smiling to himself.

        ********

Buffy lay on Giles' bed in the blessedly quiet house and tried to fall asleep. The others had returned to their regular lives today. Willow and Tara went to their classes, Xander to his job with a promise to scout for the Knights immediately after, Anya to reopen the Magic Box, and Dawn to school. Giles was on a grocery run since the Scoobies had descended on his meager bachelor cupboards like a plague of locusts.

Buffy hadn't been very happy about letting all of her loved ones out of her sight with Glory on the loose. She had made them promise to stay in crowds as much as possible, knowing that it was ridiculous since Glory could take any one of them at any time wherever she chose. She sighed and rolled over. Spike was right, she had catch up on the sleep she had missed the previous night. Constant worrying was only serving to make her feel more and more helpless, and a demoralized Slayer was a useless Slayer.

She curled up, hugging her knees to her chest and tried to suppress the tears that were suddenly choking her. Maybe she should just cry it all out. It would probably be the best thing for her. A random thought drifted through her head, "You're lying in the fetal position. Fetal, Buffy! Get it? Fetal, like the fetus that's growing inside you right now. Isn't it ironic? And by the way, Buff, what are you gonna do about that fetus, hm? Made any decisions yet?"

"Get thee behind me, inner voice! I cast you out!" Buffy thought back at it. "Need sleep now, not harassment. Get out, get out, GET OUT!" She giggled as she thought of Dawn's drama queen scream, and yes she realized her sister had had every right to freak when she found out she wasn't a normal human girl but still the shrieking thing was so Dawn even before she had something viable to detonate it. The giggle became hysterics and soon evolved into body wracking sobs. Buffy pressed her face into the pillow to stifle them.

She cried and cried and cried. Her hands clutched and kneaded at the pillow, as she snuffled and snorted and burrowed face-down into the bed. "I'm getting snot on Giles' linens," she thought, just before a cool hand came down on her shoulder.

Buffy's head snapped off the pillow, her arm whipped behind her and her elbow connected with solid flesh.

"Ow!" an indignant male voice cried.

"Spike! Why are you here? Go away!" She scrubbed furiously at her face as she tried to compose herself.

"I was passing by on my way to the kitchen when I heard you crying. Thought you might need a little comfort. Excuse me for being a gentleman!" He scowled down at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. His hands were cupping his injured nose from which blood was gushing yet again. Spike pulled his hands away and examined them, grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and began swabbing at himself. "You are one tightly wound bitch," he informed her.

"Leave me alone! Does 'go away' mean something different in Brit-speak?"

He regarded her, still frowning steadily. "Sometimes it's good to talk about things even when you don't want to," he advised. "Otherwise they just circle around in your head 'til they drive you batty."

Buffy lay on her back now, looking up at him and returning his scowl with one of her own. She didn't reply.

Spike sighed. "Look, I know you're really worried about your sis, but this hell-god may not be as big a danger as you think. I have a plan, if you'll just give me another day to work out the details."

"Don't even think about going off on one of your half-baked 'plans'. We all know how those turn out," Buffy derided. "You tangle with Glory again and she'll rip you apart."

"You worried about me, Slayer?" he teased, lowering his eyelids to half- mast and adopting a flirtatious tone. "No need, sweetheart. Big Bad can look after himself."

She rolled her eyes.

He added, "And I promise to share all when I've finished planning, so there's one worry you can put aside. Now, what else is bothering you? You missing your mum?"

She grudgingly nodded once.

"Wish I could help you on that one, sweetheart, but it's just going to hurt bad for a while. Hate to sound like a fucking Hallmark card, but it will ease up some in time just like they say. Doesn't help you now though." He patted her hand, which was still clenched tightly in the sheets.

"No it doesn't," she whispered. "I need her. Especially right now."

He nodded. "And having that boyfriend of yours scarper when you needed him most didn't help, eh? He just couldn't take you being the stronger one could he?"

"Shut up. You don't know anything about it," Buffy said coldly.

"Think maybe I do," Spike insisted. "That train wreck was a long time coming."

"What?!"

"He never really understood you. Always wanted you to be less than what you are...."

"Shut up!"

"Couldn't see that the dark parts of you only make the rest shine even brighter. You threatened him."

Shut UP!" Buffy was sitting up now, facing him, her eyes snapping in fury.

"Well you did! He wanted a little bird to bill and coo with, to look up at him all fluttery-eyed and adoring. That's not you, pet."

"SHUT UP!!" She whacked him in the arm.

He clutched at it, laughing. "See."

"Spike! Whatever you think you know about me.... You know NOTHING about me; who I am, what I think or feel. You DON'T know me."

Instantly Spike sobered. "I know something's bothering you. Something ... else. Something more than the things you've told me. I can feel it."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Get off my bed and out of my room," she demanded.

"Giles' bed," he corrected.

"Get..."

"When you're ready to talk about it...."

"Out..."

"You know where to find me."

"Of..."

"Just trying to be helpful, you know."

"This..."

"Don't be afraid to share."

"Room!"

"Going now." She heard his chuckle as he shut the door behind him with a decisive click.

She lay back down, smoothed the covers, breathed deeply and tried to regain her composure. What composure? She'd been upset before Spike came in and stirred her up and now she felt, actually... better. Annoyed? Sure. Irritated? Definitely. Still worried? Of course. But hopeless? Not so much. Evidently being mad at Spike was good for the soul.

A little smile curved her lips as she closed her eyes and tried for sleep again.

        ********

Spike poked around the Watcher's cupboards for any kind of salty snack. Nothing. He took the hidden bottle of Scotch from one of the top shelves, poured a generous glassful and downed it. Then he twirled the empty glass in his fingers and thought about Buffy.

Whatever was bothering her, his girl was definitely going downhill fast. There wasn't time for him to dick around waiting for his wounds to heal more. He would get himself over to Willy's this very afternoon and locate the man he had in mind for the job. It wasn't like he hadn't traveled by daylight before; it was just a little more difficult making the mad dash from shadow to shadow when your leg was wonky.

But first he would need some earnest money for the exterminator. Spike looked around Giles' apartment for something saleable. After perusing the bookshelves, he chose several rare volumes and placed them in a paper bag. Then he grabbed a blanket from the couch. It was a little lightweight for his taste but it would have to do. He covered himself, opened the door to a sunny afternoon, planned his route and took the plunge.

        **********

After a side trip to Clem's pawnshop, Spike entered Willy's dive with $2,000 in his pocket. Luck was smiling down upon him today. The very individual whose whereabouts he'd sought was drinking alone at a corner booth.

"O-pos and tequila," Spike ordered as he passed the bar and pointed to the corner, "And another for my mate." He sauntered to the booth and slid in across from the assassin.

The Fyarl-human hybrid ignored his presence but for a quick flick of the eyes, continuing to nurse his drink. Spike knew the creature was not only aware of him, but ready to kill him in a second if he perceived any threat. The creature was human enough looking to pass when necessary, but he had the strength of a Fyarl and if you looked closely you could see the aborted stubs of horns under his coarse mop of hair. His skin had a leathery texture and his hands seemed disproportionately large for the rest of him. It was rumored that Ersatz had never been known to fail on a mission. But he was expensive.

Spike laid the roll of bills on the table. "I heard you're the one to see about causing an accident. There's a delicate situation I'd handle myself if I could but ... I'd rather have it done by a professional such as yourself."

"Mm," the assassin grunted and reached for the fresh drink as Willy placed it in front of him.

"It's an easy kill. A human. And I don't care how you do it. You do me a quick, clean job and I'll pay you $5,000. Half up front, half after."

"Who's the mark?"

"Nice young fella at the hospital. An intern. I'll give you the specifics. For that matter, I'll go with you and point him out."

"I work alone," the killer rumbled. "You want to come along, have a taste of the body, I'll have to charge more."

Spike nodded. "I could do with a takeout meal. And I want to see this bloke die with my own eyes. Yeah. You deliver him to me fresh and I'll pay extra."

Surely even the Slayer wouldn't disapprove. Bringing the baddie to justice and getting some payback into the bargain sounded like a win-win situation. Plus Spike got to be the hero, save the bloody world, with no effort on his part. Brilliant! He chuckled his satisfaction.

The Fyarl thumbed through the roll of dirty bills. "This ain't half."

"I'll have the rest by tonight and I'll have all the information you need about the target."

A quick call to the hospital informed him that Ben would be on shift that evening. Spike arranged a time and meeting place with his hired gun and then descended into the sewer tunnels to plunder Sunnydale for the rest of the cash.

        ********

Buffy woke refreshed and ready to face the world again after a long, dreamless sleep. She could hear Giles and Anya arguing downstairs and Dawn's shrill voice piping up every now and then. Dawn! Buffy looked at the clock - 5:20. She hoped Giles had gone by the school and picked Dawn up. The idea of her sister walking anywhere by herself right now made her shudder.

Buffy sat up and instantly felt dizzy and hungry. Ravenous in fact. She headed downstairs to the kitchen from which wafted the mingled aromas of garlic and something made with apples and cinnamon.

"I'm telling you, your sales will only increase if you find out what the customer needs. My suggestion box idea is a perfectly viable business practice and you're only pooh-poohing it because you didn't think of it yourself!" Anya's voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"I did NOT pooh-pooh. I only said I would take it under consideration, which is not the same thing at all." Giles sliced through a carrot with a decisive snap against the cutting board.

"And while you're thinking, we're losing valuable sales!"

"No one ever listens to me." Dawn carried on a parallel conversation with herself as she set the table. "Like, I had that great idea about the glitter pens with feathery tops that say Magic Box on them, and you would pass one out with each purchase, but did anyone ever say, 'Oh, good idea, Dawn! We'll get right on that!' No. Because I'm just a kid and my ideas couldn't possibly be worth listening to...."

Giles sighed. "All right! Put up your bloody suggestion box. Oh hello, Buffy. Just make certain it's tastefully done and placed somewhere appropriate within the store. Maybe back by the..."

"You think I don't know tasteful? I've been around a thousand years, buddy, I know tasteful!"

"And a good afternoon to all of you," Buffy said, as she came into the kitchen and lifted a lid off the steaming pot of spaghetti sauce. She dipped in the spoon and took a taste. Heavenly!

There was a knock at the door, which flew open and emitted Willow and Tara with a gust of rainy wind.

"We come bearing brownies," Willow said, grinning. "The gooey, fudgey frosted kind! From the bakery," she admitted. "We didn't have time to make them. Or a kitchen. Or, you know, ingredients. But the result's the same."

"Also a vegetable tray," Tara added. "The crispy, crunchy, good-for-you kind." She smiled at Dawn as she placed it on the table.

"Buffy, did you send Xander out into this weather to catch his death of cold on some wild goose chase," Anya turned her tirade away from Giles for the moment. "I don't think he even took a coat this morning. And just when is he supposed to eat between going to work and doing your job of chasing down the Knights of Byzantium?"

"Huh?" Buffy paused with another spoonful of sauce halfway to her lips. "I ... I didn't think ... I mean, I didn't know it was going to get stormy this afternoon. I'm sure he won't go if it's like this." She looked at Willow, worriedly. "Will he?"

"He'll do anything you tell him to do," Anya said under her breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Maybe I should go now and...."

"Nonsense, Buffy," Giles interrupted. "Xander is perfectly capable of looking after himself."

"It's just a scouting expedition, right," Willow added, soothingly. "He thrives on that covert stuff. Likes to pretend he's Bond. When he gets cold and hungry, he'll give up and come home. Don't worry, Buffy."

"But he shouldn't have to get cold and hungry! I better go. Giles, can I borrow a jacket? I didn't bring one."

Amidst the protests of everyone but Anya, Dawn's voice cut like a whiny saw blade. "Jeez, Buffy, stop being such a martyr. Sit down and eat something!" The teenager plopped plates down at each place setting with vigor. "By the way, how's Spike this afternoon? I knocked on his door after school but he didn't answer. Is he still sleeping?"

"I didn't check on him. I imagine he'll bellow if he wants something," Giles replied.

"I'll go see," Tara said. "His bandages probably need changing by now, anyway." She headed upstairs, stealing a quick kiss from Willow on the way past.

"Dawn's right, Buffy," Willow said, watching her lover sway up the stairs and then turning her attention back to her friend with difficulty. "You still look kind of pale. Sit down. Dinner's almost ready, isn't it Giles?"

"Yes, I believe so," Giles said, putting salad greens and carrots back in the refrigerator. "We have vegetable tray, pasta and sauce, and ... Dawn, did you forget your garlic bread?"

"Oh!" Dawn rushed for a mitt, bumping Giles out of her way and opened the oven door to extract a foil wrapped loaf.

"Milk or juice," Anya was standing in front of Buffy with a carton in each hand looking slightly apologetic. "Or soda."

"Milk, please," Buffy said and walked over to the table to sit down. She smiled at Dawn and her sister grudgingly returned the smile, and then turned her attention back to removing the bread from the foil.

Buffy watched her friends, her unconventional family, moving about the simple tasks of preparing a meal. She felt a surge of love for all of them, even Anya, who was now placing a full glass in front of her with a flourish. "Must be hormones kicking in," she thought.

"Um, Spike's not in his room," Tara announced from the top of the stairs. "He, uh, left a note." She descended the stairs as Buffy rushed to up toward her to take the sheet of paper.

"What now! Did he run away from home?" she muttered, scanning the contents.

"Let me see. What does it say?" Dawn abandoned the garlic bread and ran to snatch the missive from her sister.

She read it aloud, "Buffy: Have gone to take care of your Glory problem, so that will be one less thing for you to worry about. I have a foolproof plan. It will all be over soon. See you. Spike."

"Foolproof and Spike in the same context? I don't think so!" said Willow.

"Buffy, he's going to get himself killed! Do something!" Dawn shrieked.

"Oh, that's right, worry about the vampire while my poor Xander's out there bumbling around some fairly dangerous armed men with sharp weapons!" Anya shook her head.

"I don't think Spike could get far in the shape he's in," Tara said. "Could he?"

"With vampiric healing he's probably just fit enough to go out and get himself in trouble," Giles answered. "But I wouldn't worry too much, Buffy. You can still take the time to have a ." He watched the door swing shut behind her. ".hot meal."

        **********

Spike slouched in the shadows, leaning against the trunk of a tree, and lit a cigarette, sheltering the flame against the gusty wind. He was posed to look cool and dangerous as he met again with his assassin. Actually it was more a matter of the tree holding up his exhausted body. Hobbling all over Sunnydale to collect the necessary dosh had been more tiring than he had counted on. After visiting a few vamps he knew and leaving them dustier and freer of worldly goods, he had cleared the till at several convenience stores through the fine art of distracting the clerks and snatching the money. It had been a lot easier in the days when he could go right in and snap their necks.

As cool as Spike thought he was, the assassin was cooler. Ersatz materialized out of the shadows right by Spike's side, causing him to jump and then stumble on his hurt leg. The vampire regained his balance, if not his dignity.

"Aren't you the slick one," Spike observed. "Pretty silent for a Fyarl."

"HALF Fyarl," the creature stressed. "Where's my money?"

"Here's $500 more. You get the rest after," Spike said, handing him the cash. "Your target should be coming out any time now."

As if on cue, the hospital exit door opened and staff members coming off shift began trickling out, hunched in their coats against the cold. Spike waited anxiously to catch sight of Doctor Ben Doll, hoping that he hadn't morphed into Glory again by now. Just a window of opportunity. That's all that was needed.

There was a long pause after a trio of nurses came chattering and laughing out of the building, then a lone male emerged. Spike waited while the man passed under a light to verify that it was Ben.

"There's your man," he muttered low to the half-Fyarl. When he got no response, he turned to see if his words had registered. The killer had already vanished.

        ***********

While Spike took care of business, Buffy looked for the errant vampire and Xander. Short of walking across town calling "Xander!" "Spike!" like they were a pair of lost dogs, Buffy wasn't sure how to find either one. Xander would more than likely be in the large woods at the edge of town where she had suggested he search for the knights, but Spike could be anywhere.

For lack of a better plan, Buffy headed toward Glory's hotel in case Spike had been recaptured. It was a long trek there and about halfway, as she was cutting through Shady Rest Cemetery, she began to feel very woozy and light-headed.

She shook her head to clear it and kept walking, the wind whipping right through her thin shirt. She wished she had taken the time to grab that jacket. After another few yards, the world began spinning around her again. As she tripped over a grave marker and began to fall and her vision started to blacken around the edges, Buffy considered that maybe she should have listened to Dawn and had dinner first.

        **************

Ersatz dumped the still-warm body into Spike's arms. The intern's throat had been cut, and though his heart no longer pumped blood from the gaping wound, enough had collected there to give Spike a good long drink. As he tore into the cooling flesh and dined on the life-giving nectar, the vampire was more content than he'd been in a long time. Good food and a good deed all rolled into one neat package.

When he had drained every bit he could from the corpse, he rose and paid off the impatiently waiting assassin. Spike then dragged the body into the woods and dropped it in the damp underbrush. He looked down at the dead intern with pride. Buffy would be so happy when she found out he had saved the day.

On the other hand.... Spike considered the mangled throat and thought that maybe he wouldn't mention the eating part of the evening. It might be hard enough for Slayer to admit that killing the human had been a necessity. He checked his clothes for stains and wiped his face on the hem of Ben's scrubs before heading back toward Giles' apartment.

He strode jauntily through Shady Rest Cemetery, coat flapping behind him, cigarette smoke trailing off into the night. He breathed in a deep lungful of the rain-tinged breeze, sorting out the mingled odors and compartmentalizing them in his mind. Suddenly he smelled something sweet and familiar. Turning his head in a slow arc, he pinpointed the source of the scent and followed it.

When he caught sight of the Slayer's small body crumpled on the ground several yards away, he broke into a run. He started to panic as he drew close.

"She's dead! She finally met something she couldn't handle. She's gone!" his mind screamed as he pelted toward her. He threw himself to his knees beside her, grabbed her wrist and felt for a pulse. It was beating, steady and slow. He cursed himself for panicking realizing that he could've heard it beat if he'd just slowed down and concentrated. But she was unconscious and very cold.

Spike tore his coat off and wrapped it around her, then lifted her frail body and cradled it against him. Her face looked paler than ever against the black leather and her gold hair straggled in damp clumps, which he brushed out of her face. He couldn't locate a head wound or any other sign of injury. Nor could he scent blood on her. It almost seemed like she had simply passed out. He wondered if that indicated a fever and felt her forehead, but all humans seemed hot to him so he couldn't tell if her temperature was above average.

Spike debated taking her to his crypt where he could tend to her personally. He had visions of piling quilts on her, serving her hot tea, and then crawling in bed beside her to keep her warm. But he didn't have quilts or body heat and his microwave was on the fritz. Besides, the crypt was much farther away than the Watcher's flat and a good deal colder. He set off toward Giles' home at a brisk, if uneven, trot.

To be continued...

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