"Still Bound" Chapter 13

Last chapter: Spike thought he had Buffy talked into a date but ultimately only had her fist in his face. This chapter: Buffy's birthday sans vengeance curse or demon in the wall. Other things happen instead.

"Happy Birthday dear Buffeee, Happy Birthday to you," warbled the off-key Scooby chorus.

Buffy directed a sunny smile at the assembled group before leaning in to blow out her candles. The smile was getting to be more of an effort as the evening wore on. It was tiring pretending to be jolly. She wondered how mall Santas managed.

Since discovering that Warren and his cronies were responsible for Katrina's death, Buffy was no longer able to overlook their presence in Sunnydale. But they were harder to find than she'd anticipated. She hadn't seen the black van since the day she'd been invisibilized, and the worst part was that Buffy didn't know exactly what to do with the Nerd Trio if she found them. Her job description didn't include hunting and killing dangerous humans - only demons.

Lately, the distinction between what was 'good' or 'bad' Slayer behavior felt pretty murky. It gave Buffy a headache if she thought too hard about her 'mission' and all it connoted ... especially with Spike, the vampire without a soul, added into the mix. All demons inherently evil, right? Spike was just a serial killer imprisoned by a computer chip, right? If she believed anything other than that, she would begin to have doubts about every vampire she dusted, every demon she killed.

But then ... there was Spike. Helping out when he could have organized chaos and mayhem. Fighting alongside the gang when he could have been sending minions to destroy them. And loving Buffy fiercely when he should have been plotting her death. Or maybe he was still hatching some long- term sinister plan and everything that came from his mouth was a lie.

Buffy sighed, sick to death of doubt and confusion.

"You all right, Buffy," Willow asked, concern puckering her forehead. "Are you getting tired? 'Cause we could make it an early night...."

"No!" Dawn cried in distress. "We haven't even started the games yet!" She turned to Buffy. "We're having games; Monopoly, Risk, cards. It'll be a lot of fun. You can't be tired. I don't want everyone to go."

"Of course not," Buffy agreed heartily. "I'm all about the partying. I'm not an invalid, Willow, just a little pregnant. I'll be fine."

"Good!" Dawn said. "Here. Have some cake." She thrust a loaded plate at her sister.

Buffy took fork in hand and began dutifully eating cake, then because it was really good and gooey and rich and chocolatey, she gobbled it down in earnest. When she looked up again, licking frosting from her lips and dabbing at her chin with a napkin, he was there.

Lounging in the living room doorway, shoulder to the wall, Spike had a paper bag clutched in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"Spike!" Dawn squealed right next to Buffy's ear. "You came!"

"You told me to," he reminded, ignoring the birthday girl and directing all of his attention toward Dawn, who jumped off the couch and went to take the bag from him.

"What's this? Birthday present?" she asked.

"No. Booze," he answered caustically. "Thought I might need it to see me through this little shindig."

Dawn just rolled her eyes at the insult. "You can't smoke in here, you know. Baby, remember?"

Spike didn't argue. He removed the fag from his mouth and crushed it on the bottom of his boot, then flicked the stub into a potted plant. "Better?"

"Much. Hey, what happened to your face? Nasty, horny demon?"

"Mm. Something like that," he said, rubbing thoughtfully at the abraded skin of his cheek. Buffy turned her attention back to her plate and began intently pressing her fork against the crumbs that still lingered there.

"I'll get you some cake," Dawn continued, pulling Spike into the room by the arm and shoving him toward a chair.

Willow and Tara looked up from their giddy flirting just long enough to acknowledge his presence, while Xander shot him a generic glare from across the room then resumed conversation with his work buddy, Richard.

"Hi. Are you a friend of Buffy's?" asked the girl perched on the edge of her chair near Spike. She politely held out a hand, which he didn't take. "I'm Sophie. I work with Buffy at the Doublemeat Palace. Not forever though. I'm taking night classes at the Beauty Academy. I want to be the best cosmetologist in the world. Of course my mom is worried about all the chemical fumes because I'm sensitive to a lot of things, like ammonia and bleach and all petro-chemicals. And she may make me quit beauty school soon because she doesn't think it's safe for me. But I love it and I told her that all the grease and bacteria at DP can't be too good for me either. Now I think she might talk to my manager at work about the conditions there and I might have to look for another job so I can afford to keep on going to the Beauty Academy, which I love."

"Hm." Spike turned away from her brilliant smile and hollered toward the kitchen. "Dawn? How 'bout that cake? And pour me a glass of whiskey while you're at it."

The doorbell rang and Dawn ran from the kitchen to let in the next guest.

Conversation stilled when Anya entered the room. Willow, Tara and Buffy flicked glances at Xander, who was frozen like an agoraphobic in a spotlight. Ignoring him, Anya went straight to Buffy and handed her a brightly wrapped package.

"Since it's customary to show your appreciation of your friends on their natal anniversary with a well-chosen and preferably expensive gift, I have purchased a lovely mantel clock for you which I'm sure will give you many 'hours' of pleasure and use," she said with a wide smile. "And I'll bet it's more expensive than Willow's gift, which she probably bought jointly with Tara, proving that I care more."

"Oh. Uh. Thanks," Buffy said, accepting the gift.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

"Wait!" Dawn shrieked, tearing into the room with Spike's cake in hand. "We're not opening presents yet. Everybody always leaves after presents. We have to play games first!" She handed the cake plate to Spike, who reluctantly took it.

"Where's my drink?"

"Get your own. I'm not a barmaid!" Dawn scowled at him.

"Will there be gambling involved in the games?" Anya asked, dropping down on the couch next to Buffy and looking brightly around the room. And right through Xander as if he were air.

"Probably not," Willow said. "Anya, this is Sophie, Buffy's friend from work, and Richard, Xander's friend."

"Hi," Sophie wiggled her fingers. "I'm not allowed to gamble anyway. Not even with chips. My mom thinks it could start an addiction."

"Richard." Anya's eyes moved with interest over the handsome guy sitting next to Xander. "I think I've heard Harris mention you." She stood and went over to take Richard's hand, not sparing a glance for Xander. "Pleased to meet you," she said, her voice lowering and eyes sending a seductive message.

"And you're...Anna?" he asked, returning the smoldering eye contact and the lingering hand clasp. "Xander never mentioned you," he added with a flirty smile and an emphasis on the 'you'.

"Reeaaally," she drawled. "Why doesn't that surprise me? I was only his girlfriend for two of the longest years of my life!"

Richard dropped her hand at the word 'girlfriend'. "Oh! Sorry man, I didn't realize...." He shot an apologetic look at Xander, who was bristling like a junkyard dog.

"Not an issue. She's a free agent now. I'm only an ex," Xander said in a clipped tone. "Flirt away." He stood and stalked off toward the kitchen. Spike chuckled as he passed and Xander turned on him. "Shut up, Evil Dead," he hissed.

"What? I didn't say anything."

Willow, with a quick squeeze of Tara's hand, jumped up to follow Xander out of the room. She too cast an evil eye at smirking Spike as she passed.

"Hey Buffy," Tara said loudly, attempting to diffuse the tension in the room. "Did you talk to Giles today?"

"Why yes I did, Tara," Buffy replied in a cheerily fake voice. "He called this afternoon. Said 'Happy Birthday' to me and 'hello' to everyone else. He should be in Merrie Olde tying up the details of his uncle's estate for another few weeks."

Anya, meanwhile, had drifted over to Buffy's stack of presents and was eyeing them as if weighing and measuring the contents. "He can stay as long as he likes as far as I'm concerned," she remarked. "Uh, not that I don't like Giles," she hastened to add. "But I'm perfectly capable of running the shop without his guidance as I continue to tell him every single day when he phones to check in on me as if I were an incompetent toddler."

"I'm sure he trusts your judgment, Anya, or he wouldn't have left you in charge," Tara soothed. "It's just not easy for him to let go, you know."

"I bet Giles will bring back presents," Dawn said. "English souvenirs or whatever. God, I hope he doesn't give me something stupid like a Big Ben paperweight or something. Or that crappy toffee that sticks to your teeth."

"Hey, don't knock the toffee," Buffy scolded. "I love that stuff."

"Yeah. Well, you love anything right now and you're going to end up as big as a house if you don't watch out," Dawn snarked back.

"Do you know that refined sugar will not only rot your teeth but it's chock full of chemicals that actually interfere with your brain patterns?" Sophie added helpfully.

"I did not know that," Buffy said, smiling harder than ever.

"You know, Dawnie," Tara said gently. "Maybe it's time to break out the games."

"I'm up for Monopoly," Anya put in. "That's the one with the money, right?"

Richard nervously rose and looked imploringly at Buffy. "Um. Should I...? I mean is Xander pissed off? Should I go talk to him?"

"He'll be fine," Buffy assured, also rising. She touched Richard's arm. "Why don't you help Dawn set up the card table so we can play."

"Okay," the young man amiably agreed.

"I'm stepping out for a smoke," Spike announced to the room in general and putting his untouched plate aside, he swept from the room.

Buffy sighed, watching his black clad back vanish out the front door. He was so obviously pissed about the other night for which she still had not apologized, but there were party guests to be seen to and she didn't have time to deal with Spikiness right now.

"Anya, you can set up the board and be the banker," she commanded. "Sophie, if you could help me pull up some chairs, that would be helpful."

        ********

"I can't believe I'm defending Anya of all people," Willow said, "But Xander, you can't blame her for being upset."

"You're taking her side?" Xander's voice rose. His arms were crossed defensively and he leaned against the counter as Willow rested a placating hand on his arm.

"No. Not taking sides. But I do see both sides of it. You've both told me more than I ever wanted to know about your personal lives, and I think I understand what Anya is feeling right now."

"You are! You're taking her side! Damn, sisterhood."

"Cut it out. You know, men say they don't understand how women's minds work but then won't shut up for a second to hear what we're telling them! Listen and learn! You really insulted Anya when you basically told her that she turned you off."

"What?! I never said anything like...."

"You told her that her demon self was unacceptable and that it creeped you out. Well, Xander, that demon was who she was for over a thousand years."

"But she's human now. She's good. The demon is gone."

"Maybe not so much gone as assimilated into her human persona." Willow looked up at him with earnest eyes. "I'm not judging, believe me! I just want you two to understand each other so you can decide where this relationship goes next. If you can't deal with everything Anya is, maybe you really don't want to call her. But if you still care, you'd better make a move quick or the window of opportunity is gonna slam down on your fingers."

"Well, thanks for the advice, Dr. Will," Xander dripped sarcasm with a side of snide.

"Hey, I just dish it," Willow said lightly, backing off and raising her hands in surrender. "Whether you want to eat it or not is up to you, and boy, that did not come out the way it sounded in my head."

Despite himself, Xander cracked a smile.

"Come on. Let's go have some fun for Buffy's sake, okay?" Willow nudged his shoulder.

"Have fun. Right. Easy for you to say. You already made up with your girlfriend," he pouted as he passed glasses from the cupboard to Willow, who ladled punch into them.

        *********

The front door opened sending a beam of light into the darkness and startling Spike into stumbling backward and almost falling off the step into the yard.

"Spike, what are you doing," Buffy spoke in the tone she usually reserved for idiot fledgling vamps. "Are you ... Were you poking around in my mailbox?"

"No!" He took a defensive stance, fingers fumbling in his pockets for lighter and smokes. "No. I was just ... out for a smoke. Why? What are YOU doing out here?"

"It's my yard," Buffy reminded him. "Besides, Dawn wants you in there for the games portion of our cruise." She took another step forward and looked suspiciously from Spike's face to the mailbox. Face. Mailbox. Face. His eyes flicked nervously away from hers. Hmmm.

"You WERE messing with my mail!" She stormed over to the box and flipped it open. "What? Are you still pissed about me hitting you the other night? Maybe stuffed a dead cat in there or...." Her voice trailed off as she withdrew a virgin white envelope from the box.

She stared uncomprehendingly at the thick envelope in her hand then her eyes slowly rose to his. Her mouth opened but no words came.

Spike lifted his chin defiantly. "So now you know, don't you," was all he said.

Buffy looked back to the envelope, licking her suddenly dry lips and shaking her head. "How? Why?"

"Think that'd be bloody obvious by now. I've told you I love you a dozen times already. You know I'm mad about you, and a man takes care of his woman any way he can."

" 'His woman'? Spike," she waved the hand with the envelope crushed in it. "I am not your 'woman' or 'girlfriend' or 'lover'. I'm not anything to you...."

"Oh really? That's not the way it felt when you were riding me like you planned to win the whole Triple Crown in one go." He took a step forward, dark brows knitted in a menacing scowl.

"Where did you get it?" she continued, only a deep blush betraying the fact that his words had hit home. "Hold up a bank? Threaten more convenience store clerks?"

Spike paused a beat then said through gritted teeth. "No, I did not."

"Well you certainly didn't find a job or come into an unexpected inheritance," Buffy chided. "How did you get the money, Spike? I want to know what crimes I've been an accomplice to."

"I sold some stuff," he hedged. "But I'll have you know I didn't do anything you could say was illegal."

"Sold stuff? You don't own anything!"

"Didn't say it was my stuff now did I?"

"So you stole...."

"Liberated from some very dusty vamps who had no more need of their possessions. And you remember Clem's pawnshop where I got the rings? He gave me fair value for my merchandise."

"This.... This...." Buffy went back to shaking her head and gazing at the plump envelope in her grasp. "This is so not good. Spike, you know I can't take this money."

"Why not? You were perfectly happy to accept a tax free gift when you thought it was sodding Watcher delivering it."

"That was different. Giles is like a father to me. And any money that came from him would be legitimate."

"So you don't want to soil your hands on my money?" Spike snapped. "Fine. Fucking give it me and I'll go. Figure out for yourself how you're going to pay the gas bill or make a house payment or feed your scrawny self." He made a snatch at the envelope.

For second they each clutched half of it, their hands almost touching. Their furious eyes met and dueled. Buffy broke first, releasing both the envelope and her gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. "I know you probably hoped I'd be falling all over myself in gratitude and swooning into your arms or something, but that's not going to happen. I don't love you back, Spike. It's never going to happen."

He tilted his head trying to catch her gaze again. "Why, Buffy? Why can't you just let yourself go? I could be so good for you. Would give you anything you wanted. I know you feel ... something for me. I was right there with you, remember, and I know it was more than sex."

She locked eyes with him at last and spoke firmly. "Whatever it was, it wasn't love. It couldn't be. You have no soul." She turned, walked into the house and closed the door.

To be continued.....

"Still Bound" chapter 14

This is a short chapter, because the end scene was just a perfect cliffhanger ending so I had to stop.

        *********

"Yep. Yeah-huh.... All right, I get it, Buffy, geez! Straight home. Bye," Dawn hung up the phone with a sigh and picked up her rag to resume dusting.

"Don't go around the candle display this time," Anya reprimanded. "I want you to move every one, dust the table and then wipe down each candle before you put it back. A clean display is a quick-moving display."

"So I've heard," Dawn said, pulling a face at Anya's back as she complied.

"Don't get smart, missy," Anya said without turning. "It's your own fault you have to do this, you know, so I don't want any whining or complaining."

"What? I didn't complain. Just cleaning away, here."

"How you ever thought Buffy wouldn't notice there was still a security tag on her birthday present is beyond me. If you're going to be a thief, then at least be a smart thief."

Dawn didn't answer. The humiliation of having her possessions ransacked and examined as Buffy discovered item after item of stolen clothing and a box full of trinkets from the Magic Box still stung. She wished everyone would just let her do her time without bringing it up every few minutes. But then she supposed that was part of her punishment.

Spike was the only person who hadn't stabbed her with one of those disappointed looks. He simply chided her for allowing herself to get caught. Buffy had curtailed Dawn's training with Spike along with every other extracurricular activity. Dawn had been allowed just a few minutes alone with him to explain herself when he showed up for a session before Buffy sent him away. And Dawn had overheard Buffy use terms like, "bad influence" and "I should have known better" which didn't sound promising for any TV nights or combat training in the future.

The front bell rang and Dawn looked up from shining a little brass urn.

"Hey, J.D., how's the gulag?" Xander asked as he strolled into the shop.

"Huh? The goulash?"

"Never mind." He looked over Dawn's shoulder at Anya, who was intently studying an order catalog. "Um, Dawnie. I need to talk to Anya, could you clean something in the training room for a minute?"

"Sure," Dawn was glad to be out from under Anya's eagle eye and knew she'd have a better chance of eavesdropping from the back room. She looked to Anya for permission and when the ex-demon reluctantly nodded, Dawn exited.

        **********

"You need something? Charm? Spell? Potion?" Anya asked him with chilly politeness. "We have a new collection of ward stones just in today."

Xander remained silent for a moment, weighing his options on an opening volley. It was almost irresistible to fall back into the pattern of parry and thrust which he and Anya had developed for so long. But instead he bit his tongue and tried something new.

"As a matter of fact, I am looking for something special," he answered, walking to the display case under the front counter. "Something silver and sparkly."

"None of that jewelry has any real magic properties you know," Anya said, "So if Buffy's sent you to find a protection amulet or...."

"No. Nothing like that," Xander shook his head. "Just something pretty that a woman would like. But then, it's only a first date so maybe jewelry is pushing it. What would you recommend?"

Anya's mouth opened and closed. "First DATE!" she finally managed. "You came here to buy a present for some bimbo and you want ME to help you choose it?"

"Well yeah. I mean, I trust your taste. I'm sure you'll help me pick out something..." Xander clicked his tongue and made a circle with thumb and index finger, "...just right."

Anya's complexion flushed an alarming shade of red.

"Of course, I haven't asked the girl yet," Xander said consideringly as he picked up a package of incense and sniffed it. "Maybe she won't want to go out with me."

He set the incense down and began examining a small grinning totem next to the cash register. "But if she did, which do you think she would prefer, flowers, candy or maybe some scented bubble bath. Or is that last one too personal?"

His eyes rose to meet hers and finally Anya got the message. She choked back the sharpened barbs that were waiting on her tongue. "Oh," she said instead, then cleared her throat. "Well ... I guess ... before you start buying presents, you'd need to ask the girl, wouldn't you?"

"Guess so," he said, still basting her with liquid chocolate from his deep brown eyes. "But sometimes ... it's really hard to make that phone call, you know? I mean, sometimes a guy wants to but then his hand starts to dial and he gets all shaky and his throat freezes up and he knows he's just going to say something stupid when she picks up. So maybe he gives up and puts the phone back down before he can make an even bigger fool of himself."

"Yeah, that sounds like men, all right," Anya agreed. A tiny smile played over her lips.

"It doesn't mean the guy doesn't want to talk to the girl and make up or ... er ... ask her out."

Anya nodded.

"So, Anyanka, would you? If I asked?"

Anya's smiled blossomed at Xander's first ever use of her real name. "Perhaps," she answered. "If you asked veeeerrry nicely."

Xander's anxious face relaxed and he returned the smile.

"And," she added smartly, "There's a lovely Aubousson carpet I've had my eye on, if you really want to know the way to a girl's heart."

        *********

"The Doctor?" Buffy asked. "What kind of nickname is that?"

"Don't know. It's just what they call him." Willie shrugged. "Hey, I only pass along what I hear and right now he's the guy to see for buying demon parts." He laughed. "Guess that explains the name - he has to carve up the goods. Though, maybe The Surgeon or The Butcher would be more appropr...."

"All right! I get it. New player in town supplying demon bits for spells and rituals. What I want to know is where to find this guy."

"That I can't help you with," Willie said, averting his eyes and distractedly wiping the counter.

Buffy could see the shifty little man knew more than he was telling. She gave an exaggerated sigh. "Do we have to go through this little dance every time, Willie? Just give it to me all at once. Don't make me have to hit you."

"Where'd be the fun in that?" Willie said, sarcastically.

Buffy just stared for a beat.

"All right. All right. I don't know where to find this guy but I did hear somebody talking the other night about some Suvolte eggs."

"What eggs?"

"Suvolte demon are nasty bastards. No more brain than a frog. But they're real useful if you want to rain down a little destruction on an enemy. They could rip their way through Sunnydale and leave not a man standing if someone was of a mind to take over the town."

"And the eggs?"

"Just waiting to hatch trouble ... or be scrambled into one helluva giant omelet. I heard the Doctor's got 'em hidden somewhere, waiting for an out of town buyer. But damn, Slayer, I gotta tell you this makes even me nervous. If those things hatched early...."

"I'm on it," Buffy said. "I'll find this 'Doctor' and put him out of business."

        ************

"Spike?" Buffy's voice rang through the empty crypt. The shadowy interior revealed no sign of the vampire. "Great! Always in your way when you don't want him, but when you have a simple question to ask...." she muttered.

Buffy swept her flashlight around the room. "God, get a cleaning service, why don't you." There were smashed bits of pottery near the sarcophagus in the center of the room, dead flowers trailing across the floor. Toppled candles were scattered here and there. Spike's stereo lay mangled in a corner as if it had been thrown against the wall. As a matter of fact, anything that could be torn, broken, shredded or flattened, was.

Buffy smelled the stomach turning odor of sour milk and moved her beam around until she located the source: a carton of ice cream lying in a sticky pool of curdled pinkish scum. "Ice cream? What the...?" Her heart began to beat faster as she moved through the room, shoes crunching over pottery shards.

She hadn't seen Spike since the night of her birthday party. In fact she had actively avoided him, her brain still running in breathless circles trying to wrap itself around the idea that it was Spike providing her with anonymous monetary gifts over these past few months. It was horrible and it was horribly sweet. It indebted her to him, which was totally frightening. And over and over she tried to convince herself he hadn't robbed or intimidated humans to acquire the money. Bad enough that part of it was dusted vampire loot, which of course originated with some poor human victim.

Now here she was just to ask Spike what he knew about the Doctor and Suvolte demons in general, and it looked like he'd been kidnapped and dragged away. Humans could have done it. He would be completely at their mercy.

Buffy quickly descended the ladder to the lower level and found the destruction continued. Bedding was spread halfway across the room, tangled sheets ribboned into rags. Great gashes were chopped into the bed posts and feathers from the pillows had settled on every surface. Funny crunchy brown flakes like cereal were also strewn around. Buffy picked one up and crushed it in her fingers. The scent of rose wafted up from her hand. Rose petals?

In a flash Buffy understood. The date. Or what Spike imagined as a date. That night she'd stood him up then later beat him up. This is what he had had planned for the evening. Her heart clenched. She could picture him moving around his home fixing it up as best he could - all for her. How very disappointed he must have been. A vision of Spike rampaging through these rooms tearing apart all he had created replaced the first image in her mind. Not kidnapped then. Just Spike throwing a hissy fit.

Tears prickled and she closed her eyes, willing them away. She breathed deeply for a moment then blinked away her sympathy. She rolled her shoulders and took another look around the crypt basement. How the hell had she let it get this far? Why had she allowed herself to sleep with him when she was invisible? As if that didn't count, as if it wouldn't encourage him or lead to even deeper feelings. How could she have allowed him to insinuate himself into their lives, both Dawn's and hers? Nothing but heartache could come of it. She had been foolish and irresponsible and now look where it had lead.

As the last scolding words lashed through her mind, Buffy's flashlight came to rest on an area just before the tunnel leading to the sewer system. A half dozen oblong spherical shapes covered in a mucousy substance rested there.

Buffy took a step toward them. Then another. She looked away and back again, but they were still there. "Oh my god," she murmured. "Spike. What have you done?"

Just then, one of the eggs began to crack.

To be continued....

"Still Bound" chapter 15

This chapter: Battling the Suvolte Spawn (sounds like a band, doesn't it) and dealing with the fallout from Spike's ill-conceived money-making venture.

        **********

In the moments she had to react before the first egg split open and spewed forth a scrabbling, scaly demon baby, Buffy realized she was unarmed but for a stake in the elastic waistband of her maternity pants. There was no way she could take on god knows how many little demonettes down here in the dark, enclosed basement of the crypt without a sword or ax. She quickly scrambled for the ladder and hauled herself up, cursing as one of her feet caught on a rung and she was forced to twist her foot out of her brand new loafer, abandoning it.

Achieving the upstairs, Buffy ran for the door, hoping to get out and slam it shut behind her. Perhaps the Suvolte spawn could be contained in the crypt if she could only block the door from the outside. Then she would have some time to consider her next move. Something to destroy them all in one blow like a hand grenade would be super. Too bad she hadn't raided the Initiative arsenal after the final battle down in the labs.

But already it was too late to escape the crypt. The small horde of hatchlings had followed right behind her and were ranging around the upper level of the crypt trying to flank her. In the come-and-go beam of the flashlight, Buffy could see them starting to surround her. The light also glinted on the sharp edge of Spike's best battle ax, which lay carelessly discarded in a corner. Buffy dove for the weapon, scraping her knees and distended belly as she skidded across the floor on all fours.

She grabbed the weapon and flipped around quickly, afraid that one of the cockroachlike monsters would attack from behind. A graceless arch upwards and Buffy regained her feet and began swinging the ax in a wide circle, driving off any of the creatures that might be encircling her in the dark.

In gaining a weapon, Buffy had lost her flashlight. It lay a few yards away, the beam of light illuminating only broken pottery in its path. However, weak moonlight marked the open door of the crypt, and in that light Buffy saw the silhouette of at least one Suvolte scurrying out. Damn! They were getting past her, escaping to wreak havoc all over Sunnydale.

Buffy tore out the door, determined to stop the swarming Suvolte from getting past the cemetery grounds. Out in the open, she could see her foe beginning to disperse in as many directions as there were hatchlings.

"One at a time, Buffy," she counseled herself and focused her attention on slicing the nearest baby demon. As the blade bisected it, a high-pitched squeal and scalding spurt of blood erupted from the hatchling. It flashed through Buffy's mind that she'd murdered some mother demon's infant before she spun on her heel and gave chase to the next foe.

Realizing it was too late to stop the first wave, Buffy turned back toward the crypt and began methodically chopping at each new Suvolte to emerge from the door. She was on her third when she caught a glimpse of a blond and black blur from the corner of her eye.

Spike was tearing after one of the escaping demons, hurdling tombstones which the creature was forced to scuttle around. Weaponless, he dove on top of the monster and began throttling it with his bare hands. Turning her attention back to her own fileting, Buffy was aware of a sharp crack and an aborted squeal and realized that Spike had broken his opponent's neck.

After Buffy's third kill, no more Suvolte emerged from the crypt. She slammed the door shut in case there were any late hatchers, then began running toward the only other demon in sight.

"Spike!" she yelled.

He leaped to his feet over the sprawled body of the Suvolte and turned toward her wearing his battle face. Buffy suddenly realized that she hadn't seen him yellow-eyed and grinning in murderous glee for a long time.

"Hey!" he called. "What are we killin' tonight?"

"You should know. They came out of Your Crypt!" Buffy bellowed as she reached him and smashed her fist into his joyful face.

"Fuck!" Spike howled as he grabbed his nose and blood gushed through his fingers. "What?"

"Suvolte, Spike! Or should I call you Doctor now?"

Spike's eyes above his hands told her everything she needed to know even before he began to speak. "I can explain. It's not like you...."

"Shut up," Buffy snapped through clenched teeth, shaking her head in denial.

"They weren't supposed to hatch so soon," he continued. "I thought the buyer would have them miles from here before...."

"But you knew they would hatch sometime, you idiot!" Buffy interrupted again. "You knew that somebody somewhere would get hurt." She held up a hand before he could start in with more explanations. "Never mind. We don't have time for an ethics lesson now. You head that way. I'll go north. I'll call the others on the cell and we'll cover Sunnydale in a grid until we get the rest of these things. I think there are about a half dozen still out there."

Spike nodded and wiped his still trickling nose on his wrist. Buffy handed him his axe. "You'll need a weapon. I'll stop by the Magic Box for another."

He silently took the axe and started off to search the area she'd assigned him.

As she watched his retreating back, Buffy took a deep, centering breath, patting her baby-bulge reassuringly.

"Sorry about all the action, tadpole," she said. "Sacred duty, yadda, yadda." Little Jack kicked back at her comforting hand, then for good measure, gave her a sharp kick in the bladder. Buffy was forced to squat in the shadow of the crypt to relieve herself before heading off at a dead run toward town.

        ***********

"I'm a survivor. I'll never give up. I'll never stop. I'm gonna work harder," Dawn warbled along with Beyonce who was blasting her mantra directly through the headphones into Dawn's brain. Flipping her long brown hair and swiveling her hips, Dawn danced around the kitchen while her mac 'n' cheese microwaved.

She looked in her text book, which was spread on the counter, for the next question.

"'Tis a far better thing I do than I have ever done before..." she read aloud. "Who is Simon Carstairs?" She shouted, Jeopardy style.

The phone rang and Dawn slipped off her headphones to answer it.

"Hey, Janice! Whassup?" She listened for several minutes, nodding and uh- huh-ing at the appropriate times. "So what did you say?" she asked, and listened some more as she pulled her late night snack out of the microwave and peeled back the cellophane.

"He's a jerk. Don't let him get to you," she advised her friend. Dawn stirred a fork around in the dish to let out steam. "No. No. I can't. Buffy'll find out. She could be home any time. I shouldn't even be on the phone, you know."

She listened some more. "No. Don't do that! Look...." Dawn glanced at the clock and at the darkened windows. "It's really late. You shouldn't.... All right.... Yes. I'll come." She sighed. "Just sit tight. I'll be right over." Another pause. "I mean it, Janice. Don't do anything stupid! I'm coming."

Dawn hung up the phone with another long-suffering sigh and tossed her fork down on the counter.

"Buffy is so gonna kill me if she comes home," she muttered as she quickly scribbled a note and tossed on a jacket. She checked her inside pocket for her stake, which was right where it ought to be.

Dawn was out the door and halfway down the block when the Suvolte spawn attacked. A sharp pain tore down her back from shoulder blade to hip when the creature leaped on her, shredding her coat and skin with a razor sharp claw. Dawn screamed and whirled around, but the monster clung to her, biting down on her shoulder with its razor like teeth.

Acting on instinct, Dawn ran to the nearest tree and began trying to scrape the thing from her back. Screaming non-stop, she reached into her jacket, pulled out the stake and began driving it over her shoulder into the Suvolte's head. It released its Rottweiler jaws long enough to let out a screech of its own, then dug into her flesh even harder. She could hear it scissor through tissue and bone.

Dawn gasped at the increased pain. Her heart jack-hammered in her chest and adrenaline coursing through her veins gave her Matrix-like power. She pulled her stake from the top of the Suvolte's head with a slurping sound and drove it in again with all her strength. She must have hit whatever passed for a brain in this primitive demon, because it let out a final scream and released its hold, falling off her back and hitting the ground with a thud.

Dawn fell to her knees beside it, blubbering and gasping for air. Her hand went to her shoulder and came away sticky and red. Her gaze shifted from the Suvolte, still spasming in its death throes by her side, to her blood covered hand. The world began to darken around the edges and a loud buzzing filled her ears.

"This can't be good," she murmured, staring at her hand as she slid the rest of the way to the ground. Her last conscious thought was of how much she hated Janice Pendleton.

        **********

Dawn drifted into awareness of someone shaking her roughly and talking much too loud. It was very irritating. She was so cold and thought she could get warm if he would just let her sleep.

"...fuck's sake! Christ, Little Bit, please wake up!"

There was so much pain. She wondered if her arm was broken. Then the annoying person was wrapping something around her shoulder and pulling it way too tight. She tugged feebly at the material.

"Good, you're awake! Let it be, Niblet. Have to keep the pressure on ... hit an artery"

"Spike?" she managed to whisper.

"Yeah. I'm here now. Gotta lift you up, take you to hospital."

She felt him match action to word as her body was pressed against rock and raised by iron bands.

"No," she gasped. "Buffy...."

"Shh. Just you concentrate on breathing and staying alive."

Her eyes fluttered open and Spike's blurry face was looming over her. She felt the jarring thud of his footsteps as he strode along carrying her like a broken doll.

"She'll ... kill ... me," she finished her thought.

"No. No, she won't, precious," he soothed. "Just rest now. You've lost a lot of blood."

As her eyes drifted closed again and her consciousness began to spin out into the cosmos, Dawn thought she heard him add, "...kills anyone, it'll be me."

        *************

When Buffy finally walked out of the hospital door it was well past sunrise, but Spike was lurking in the shadow of the western face of the building. He stepped toward her.

"Is she...?"

"She'll live." Buffy stood, facing away from him, staring at the parking lot.

Spike relaxed palpably. He nodded and leaned back against the wall. "After I found you, I took a sweep around town. Killed another Suvolte. With yours and the one Harris got, I think that's all now."

"Good," she said vacantly.

"Buffy," his voice lowered as he importuned her. "I'm sorry. Never meant for...."

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted sharply. "It doesn't matter what you mean, just what you do."

Spike leaned toward her. His eyes searched her blank face, but it gave no clue as to her level of pissed off.

"I'll change," he entreated. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it ... or not do it."

She finally looked at him, head moving slowly as though she were half asleep. "I can't be your conscience, Spike. I can't always be there to say 'Don't kill Ben' or 'Don't steal from that convenience store.' If you don't know on your own what's right and wrong . then I can't have you here. Not around my family. Not around my town." Unspoken but hanging in the air between them was the knowledge that by all rights she should be staking his undead ass about now.

"Buffy...." he whispered, reaching to touch her arm.

"I want you to leave," she said, eyes returning to studying the cars in the parking lot, the early morning sun glinting off their shiny windows.

"I forgot what you are,' she continued quietly, as though thinking aloud. "Not a man but a monster. That's all you can be."

'I'll try harder. Give me a chance,' he wanted to beg, to fall to his knees and grovel at her feet, but the implacable tone of her voice froze the words in his mouth.

Buffy moved from the shadow of the building then paused. "Better get inside somewhere, Spike, before you fry." And with that goodbye, she walked away.

        ***********

The horizon was still pink when Spike threw the last of his meager belongings in the DeSoto and slid behind the wheel. He gunned the motor and peeled out just for the sheer joy of making noise.

In the two minutes it took him to reach the city limits sign on the hillside above town, the sky had completely blackened to night. Spike pulled off the road, got out and leaned on the front of the car like some oversized hood ornament. He looked up at the stars coming to life in the sky and at the matching twinkles of man-made light in the town below.

Blowing smoke from his nostrils, he flicked ash impatiently from the tip of his cigarette before tossing the whole butt down into the grass. He watched the ember glow then the dry grass begin to ignite and curl into flame. After a moment or two of watching the fire spread and grow, he stomped it out with a vicious grind of his boot.

"I CAN change," he growled as he stomped. "I'll show her how much I can change."

A brief memory of Angelus' torment immediately after the soul curse flashed through his mind, but he instantly dismissed it. 'Won't be like that,' he thought. 'I'll be me, only better. She's halfway to loving me already. This'll finish it off. If it's just a little soul that stands between us, I can take care of that.'

Then, feeling more hopeful than he had in weeks, Spike got back in the car and started off on his grand quest.

To be continued....
 

Still Bound, Chapter 16 (Last chapter of this series)

Following Spike's dismissal from Sunnydale a lot of shit goes down.

A million, million thanks to Zyrya, who put in so much time working with me on this fic. Thanks to her I finally know how many dots go in an ellipse and where the spaces go. Also, learned not to go for the easy, tired similes or hackneyed expressions but to attempt fresh comparisons and word combinations.

        ***********

"Smash his orbs!" Jonathan's squeaky voice stage-whispered in her ear. He was clinging to her back like a baby opossum as Buffy struggled to simultaneously unlatch his clutching fingers from her shoulders, straighten her hat which had been knocked over one eye and check on the location of her real threat, Warren.

"Huh? Get off, you annoying ...." She twisted in his grip and reached back to deliver a none too gentle slap but he stuck tight.

"Ow!" he yelped and began pummeling her head with one fist.

Buffy wanted to laugh at the ludicrous image they must present, Buff- biscuit and her diminutive jockey. As a matter of fact, this whole battle with super-charged Warren and his pals was beyond ridiculous and into the realm of surreal. Buffy wondered for a moment if she was under yet another delusional spell courtesy of the Trio. Perhaps she was inhabiting Warren's perfect dream world.

Anything seemed possible after the time shifting, mind bending, world changing hell these guys had put her through last week. She shuddered to think what would have happened to her friends and sister if Tara hadn't intervened.

Buffy finally shook herself like a dog shedding water and Jonathan flew off and landed in a heap. Looking up, Buffy saw that Warren had been watching the show with amusement and was more than ready for her next attack.

"Nice try, little pill bug," Warren commended Jonathan. "If you're finished now, why don't you let the big guns handle it." He gave a clumsy high kick, which Buffy easily deflected. Warren's new super strength didn't come with super skill.

Buffy ducked under Warren's arm as he swung recklessly at her face. She tucked and rolled then straightened and turned to deliver a glancing blow to his side. Warren swiveled around with an angry roar and another punch that connected this time. Buffy's head snapped back on her neck and she fell on her back, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked out of her.

'Wish Spike was here,' the little voice in the back of her mind, which had been chanting that refrain for four weeks, started up again. 'I need back up.' She rolled again, to the side this time, and Warren's heavy boot whistled past her ear. Buffy curled into a protective ball around her precious stomach as he aimed another kick that sharply stabbed her kidneys. Buffy gasped and cried out. Her eyes watered at the intense pain.

"Warren!" Jonathan admonished. "Just leave her. We've got what we came for. Let's take the money and go."

"Gotta let her know who's the new overlord of Sunnydale, sport," Warren crowed, as he kicked her again.

Buffy caught the offending foot in both hands and twisted. Warren let out a surprised cry as he was thrown off balance and landed on the ground next to her. Through the haze of tears clouding her eyes, Buffy saw a pouch attached to his belt.

'That's important,' a dispassionate interior voice informed her. 'Those aren't marbles he's carrying.'

She snatched the pouch from his belt and smashed it against the ground under her hand.

"Noooo!!!" Warren howled, and Buffy could have sworn she actually felt the heat of energy drain from him and whoosh back to the crumbled fragments beneath her fist.

Scrambling to his feet, Warren tossed off his coat revealing a pair of rockets strapped to his back.

"This isn't over yet, Slayer!" he warned. "You'll pay for this ... Whoa!" He let out an undignified yell as the jet pack ignited and sent him hurtling skyward.

Buffy sat up stiffly, rubbing at her aching lower back and staring at Warren as he rose into the night. "You have got to be kidding!" she exclaimed.

The third guy, Tucker's brother, took the opportunity to shed his jacket and reveal his own jet pack.

"Hey! Why didn't I get one of those?" Jonathan wailed.

"Till we meet again, Slayer. This round to you, but the game is far from over." He pressed a button or flipped a switch and the jets fired up. Throwing back his head to deliver a classic evil villain laugh, the kid rose upward and straight into the metal roof above him. He was slapped back down to earth in a humiliating huddle.

"Don't even think of running," Buffy cautioned Jonathan, whose gaze was darting from her to his downed cohort to the open road leading out of the amusement park. "I will hunt you down like a dog."

"O-okay," he answered shakily, raising his hands tentatively above his head.

"I think I need an ambulance," the third member of the trio moaned, rolling from side to side.

Buffy dragged herself to her feet.

        ***********

By the time the cops had arrived and taken her statement and custody of the two criminals, Buffy was shivering from exhaustion and cold. She climbed gratefully into Xander's warm car and collapsed across the back seat.

"If I have to explain my coincidental appearance at one more crime scene...." She was too tired to think of anything clever to finish her thought.

"Jeez, Buff, you're so pale!" Xander fussed as he slid behind the steering wheel and looked over his shoulder at her. "Maybe we should stop by the emergency room and...."

"I'm fine," she said firmly. "Really. Just get me home and let me crawl into bed."

"All right," he replied, sounding unconvinced but used to following orders.

The engine started with a clink and a roar and they sped away.

"Xander."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming out to get me."

"I live to serve, mon capitain."

"I'm glad," she murmured sleepily.

        *********

Late the following afternoon, Buffy and Xander sat in the Summers' garden, a rare pastoral experience for a night dweller like Buffy. The golden rays of sun gilded the plants and turned the pollen and dust in the air to shimmering confetti. An occasional shriek of laughter floated from the open upstairs window where Willow and Tara were getting dressed for an evening out.

Buffy sighed in contentment and shifted in her chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. Her lower back was sending out some serious twinges that wrapped around her abdomen in a mantle of ache. She smoothed a hand over the taut fabric of her shirt where it molded to the round bulge of her stomach, then gave the bulge a little pat for good measure.

"You okay?" Xander asked for the fifth time, rolling his empty bottle of beer back and forth between his palms. He was leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees, gazing at the broken shards of garden gnome that Dawn hadn't cleaned up yet despite repeated reminders.

"Fine. Stop worrying. Super Slayer healing, remember?"

Xander nodded. "Are you going to get another one?" he asked, pointing at the dismembered gnome. "'Cause I gotta tell you, those things creep me out."

"God no. That was never ours to begin with. I don't know how we never noticed it all this time." She shuddered. "And if it wasn't for Anya finding the camera in the skull at the Magic Box, his dirty little gnome eyes would still be watching us."

"You know," Xander mused. "I think I met Warren once ... before in high school. I was in a comic book club for a while and I think he came once or twice. Weird, huh? How people can come into your life and you never know how important they'll end up being. I mean, you could pass a stranger on the street, nod 'hello', and maybe your lives will never come in contact again, but maybe through some chain of events that person will turn out to be one of the most important people you ever met. Maybe they're the emergency room doctor that later saves your life or the girl you end up marrying or, in this case, the evil nerd who tries to kill you."

"Yep. Life's funny like that," Buffy replied absently. But she thought of her first encounter with the skinny, intense, practically albino vampire who had promised to kill her on Saturday and how she never could have imagined how many ways he would work his way under her skin.

"I miss Spike," she sighed, and then bit her tongue as she realized she'd actually given voice to the thought.

"What?" Xander sat up straight, bottle dangling from one finger inserted in the neck. His eyes widened.

"What?" Buffy repeated inanely, eyes also widening. "I mean, Dawn. Dawn misses Spike, and it's making her cranky so I wish, uh, wish Spike was still around. You know, to train with her and all that. He really was doing a good job teaching her to fight."

"Look, Buffy, I know you have a soft spot for the guy, what with his little chip handicap and all, but after the stunt he pulled with the Suvolte demons, I don't know how you could cut him any slack. You just let him leave town to wreak whatever havoc he can whip up on an unsuspecting world. He's not as harmless as you like to think."

"I know," she agreed. "I know he can still cause a lot of damage, but I feel like underneath it all he's ...." she paused, at a loss.

"A soulless killer?" Xander supplied. "How can you forget how he tried to help Adam by turning us against each other? And now this 'supplier to the underworld' bit. Buffy, you should have finished him."

"I just ... just couldn't," she said, still searching for words. "There's something there. I think ... I mean, I feel, that there's something worthwhile there."

"Why? What makes him any different than any of the other vampires you've dusted over the past six years? He doesn't have a soul. He's no Angel." After all this time, Xander still spat the name 'Angel' like it was broken glass.

"No, that he isn't," Buffy actually smiled as certain comparisons between the two flashed in her mind. "Nothing like."

"So what?" Xander sounded completely nonplussed. Then, light dawning, he added, "Wait a minute. This doesn't have anything to do with Willow's spell from last year. You don't ... don't have feelings for the guy?"

"No. Of course not," Buffy's smile disappeared and she sat up straighter and said briskly. "It doesn't matter anyway. He's gone now and not coming back." Changing the subject, she focused on Xander's face. "So ... how's this 'just dating' thing with Anya going? Isn't it hard to return to no physical contact after ... well, you know?"

Xander grinned and examined the label on his beer bottle. "Well, I wouldn't say there was absolutely no physical contact ...."

A sharp crack split the air as someone's car backfired. Xander's head automatically jerked up at the sound and his eyes met Buffy's puzzled ones looking over his shoulder.

"You think you can just do that to me? You think I'd let you get away with that? Think again!"

Xander swung around to face the rabidly ranting figure standing at the street, waving his arm and clutching a gun. Another loud report and Xander actually felt the bullet whizz past him, heard Buffy's quiet, surprised cry, saw Warren turn and run. But it was all so dreamlike and slow-moving that he couldn't react.

"Wha...?" he asked muzzily, as he turned back toward Buffy. She had half risen from her chair and the impact of the bullet had propelled her backward to hit the chair with the backs of her knees and then crumple to the ground.

"Buffy!" he screamed.

        *************

Buffy and Dawn entered the house, still laughing and mimicking Sean Connery's accent. The movie had been pretty much a bust, but the sarcasm value alone made it worthwhile. Tossing her purse on the hall table, Buffy felt Dawn's sharp elbow poke her ribs. She looked up and saw her sister, a finger to her lips, pointing toward the living room where their would-be babysitter was sprawled on the couch fast asleep.

Spike, barefoot and wearing only his jeans, was lying with one arm thrown up beside his head, the other firmly holding on to Baby Jack, who was sleeping on his chest. The diaper-clad infant was breathing with his rosebud lips parted and drool puddling on Spike's ivory skin. The baby's fuzzy hair stuck up in sweaty tendrils and his skin was flushed red. It looked like the little guy had been crying for a good long while. One tiny fist clenched and unclenched and a frown passed over his smooth, round face.

"Looks like someone was cranky. Poor Spike!" Dawn whispered, smiling sympathetically.

Buffy walked into the living room for a better look at her darling child and brave boyfriend.

Spike looked thoroughly exhausted. His hair had escaped its gel shellac and like Jack's was curling in wild tendrils; dark lashes rested against pale cheeks and dark brows were slightly knit. He patted the baby with the hand that held him in place against his naked chest and murmured, "Ssshhh. Sh now, love."

Buffy smiled and reached out to brush a finger over Jack's soft, soft head. He stirred again and whimpered, made sucking motions with his mouth then inserted two of his chubby fingers and began to nurse on them with loud smacking noises.

Remembering her mother's admonition, "Let dogs and sleeping babies lie!" Buffy smoothed her hand once more over the little head, then moved on to brush her fingers lightly along Spike's jaw. His eyes fluttered open and regarded her blankly for a second, then were suffused with that adoring, unbelieving, worshipful gaze she'd come to depend on. His lips quirked and he rumbled low, "Have a nice time, pet? Hope you appreciated it 'cause it's never going to happen again. Your rugrat is a royal pain in the ass ... just like his mum."

Buffy's smile stretched even wider. "We love you, too, Spike."

"No you don't. You just want a sitter for free," he teased. But at her words his face lit with a transcendent glow. He and the baby were suffused in warm golden light that grew steadily brighter and brighter.

Buffy's smile disappeared. She reached a hand out toward them. "Wait! Don't ...."

The light turned to flame so hot it pushed Buffy back. Spike continued to beam at her. Jack continued to sleep, as they were consumed by the fire.

"No! Not yet! Don't ... don't leave me!" she screamed, fighting against the waves of heat that held her back. She pushed against air thick and resistant as molten lava, attempting to reach them, but they were already bursting apart in a cloud of ash.

Buffy woke with a cry to darkness, an unfamiliar room, the smell of antiseptic, a hospital bed. She looked around frantically trying to place herself, to remember what had happened. Her hand automatically reached down to caress her belly and ensure her baby's safety. Her stomach was flat, the familiar mound gone.

She tried to sit up and pain pulled at her midsection and seared through her shoulder. She fell back with a gasp, clutching at the hospital gown.

"Buffy, it's okay. I'm here!" Dawn bolted up from a chair near the bed, rushed to her side and took her hand, gripping it tightly. "You were shot," Dawn explained, stroking her hand soothingly. "Warren. He came after you."

"I was with .... What happened to Xander?" Buffy managed to croak. "Is he all right?"

"Y-yes. Xander's all right," Dawn's voice sounded funny and Buffy looked at her sharply.

"But ...?"

"Nothing. Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay. Do you want some water? I'll get you some water," Dawn continued, not meeting her eyes.

"What?" Buffy demanded flatly. "What's happened."

"I can't," Dawn dithered. "Xander said you should rest. He wouldn't leave until he found out you were going to be okay, then he told me to keep you quiet when you woke up, that he would take care of it."

"Tell me!"

"But you've lost the baby, Buffy! And they had to dig a bullet out of your shoulder! You've got to promise to lie there and get better and not go all Slayer on me if I tell you."

"Dawn, I will go all Slayer on you if you don't open your mouth and spill right now," Buffy might have sounded more menacing if she weren't paper white and trembling.

Searching her sister's eyes, Dawn nodded as if coming to a decision. She began to relate what had happened while Buffy was unconscious.

As Dawn's words rushed over her like water, Buffy felt herself slipping in and out of the stream. It was hard to focus, harder still to care. Continuously smoothing her hand over her flat stomach, she listened in dreamy disconnection.

"So Anya said Willow just sucked all that dark magic up into her, drained all the books dry, then walked right back out again," Dawn explained, sounding far away and tinny to Buffy's ears. " ... called Xander on his cell and found out about the shooting."

Buffy wondered if things would have been different if she'd paid attention to Willow's growing power sooner. Maybe listening and discussing instead of lecturing and giving ultimatums after that incident with Dawn and the boils .... She sighed and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, one in which her shoulder didn't feel like it was being skewered by hot pokers.

" ... knew about Tara yet. I came home and found her there in the bedroom," Dawn's voice broke. When she spoke again it was thick with unshed tears. "Buffy, she looked like Tara but ... but not, you know? The thing that made her Tara was just ... gone. She looked," Dawn paused to consider, "broken."

Eyes dry as sand, Buffy clutched her sister's hand tighter and made appropriate comforting noises. She felt she ought to scream and cry and curse the injustice of Tara's death but couldn't even summon up the energy to believe in it.

Dawn sniffed and roughly rubbed her other hand across her eyes. " ... called 911 ... then Xander ... police gave me a ride ...."

Buffy wondered mildly if she were about to pass out. Dawn's narrative seemed to be coming and going like cable TV on a windy day. Buffy couldn't remember how she was supposed to respond. Was this a serious or humorous story? Was she expected to smile and nod or frown and shake her head?

" ... until you were out of surgery, then he went after Willow."

There was a pause in the flow and Buffy knew it was her turn to say something. What was it?

"How long ago?" she asked hollowly.

"Over an hour ... so angry ... Xander can handle...."

Would that anxious, irritatingly loud voice never stop? Buffy closed her hot eyes and imagined that she was floating in a cool swimming pool, cradled by water, hair fanning out around her head, with nothing more important to decide than rather to continue floating or swim laps.

Her attention snagged on a hard buoy, and what was a buoy doing in her swimming pool?

" ... hope he doesn't get to her in time. I hope she flays Warren alive for what he did!" Dawn's ferocity pierced her aquatic bubble.

Buffy's eyes opened and she tried to pull her thoughts together.

"No," she said. "Don't ...."

"Why not?" Dawn snapped. "I hate him! Hate him!"

"And he should be punished." Buffy marveled at her ability to form words that actually made sense. "But not by Willow. Think of what it would do to her to ... to kill someone when she's out of her head like this."

"Then I wish Spike were here. He'd find a way to take care of Warren like he did Ben," Dawn continued with terrier tenacity.

Buffy decided a teenager with a vendetta was scarier than a Sicilian mafioso.

"And Spike would still be here if ...." Dawn's angry voice trailed off but the meaning was clear.

Buffy sighed and closed her eyes again. Maybe Dawn was right. At this moment it would be so easy to surrender things into Spike's capable hands. Let the soulless being plow through the morass of questionable ethics and cut to the heart of the problem. But it would ...

" ... be wrong, Dawn," Buffy murmured. "Human laws ...." She trailed off.

"God, you're really out of it!" Dawn sounded taken aback. "You'd better get some sleep."

"No." Buffy struggled to sit up. "I have to go. Have to help."

"No you don't. Let Xander handle this one," Dawn commanded with steely defiance, pushing her gently back onto the bed. "You're in no shape and, believe it or not, you aren't the only one who can fix things."

Buffy relaxed despite herself and gratefully accepted the glass of water Dawn held to her lips. She drank it down then allowed her sister to tuck the covers firmly around her.

"It'll all be okay, Buffy. You'll see," Dawn whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We'll all be fine ...."

Her voice faded away and the light faded away and Buffy was floating in blessed, codeine induced darkness.

        **********

"Hello, love. What are you doing here?" a rumbling voice came from the shadows on her left.

"Where's here?" she asked, trying to make out shapes in the pitch black.

"Cave," he replied. "Dark, isn't it?"

"Yes. I can't see you." Buffy held out a blind hand. "Why are we here?"

"Don't know about you, but I'm waiting for my boon," he answered.

"Your which?"

"Never mind," he chuckled. She felt a hand slip into hers, strong fingers lace through her own. "Come wait with me?" he asked.

It was quiet and cool there so she sat on the hard stone floor with him and waited.

        ***********

"Mama, nooooo! I hate those socks!" Jack shrieked at glass-shattering pitch. "I won't wear 'em! You can't make me!" His face was bright red and tear streaked as he thrashed around, kicking his stubby little legs.

"Honey, you've got to get your shoes on. We're going to be late," Buffy pleaded, gripping his ankle firmly and cramming on an offensive sock. She hated herself for doing it but was reduced to resorting to bribery. "We'll stop at McDonald's later. How about that?"

A brilliant smile broke through the clouds. "Can I get a Happy Meal? They got Scooby Doo. I seen it on the commercial."

"Sure," Buffy agreed, then held up an admonishing finger. "But only if Aunt Willow says you're good for her the whole time you're there. And that means no arguing, no yelling and NO chasing Miss Kitty this time."

Jack was wide-eyed and astonished. "I never chased Kitty! I love her! I was just tryin' to pet her."

"Okay, kiddo. Let's roll," Buffy lifted her recalcitrant toddler and swung him through the air. He shrieked with pleasure. Buffy considered that the mood swings of a pre-schooler rivaled severe PMS.

As they walked out the door her precious whirlwind wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her a fierce hug. "I love you, mama. Sorry 'bout the socks."

"Love you too." She smiled and gave him a big smooch on the mouth.

"Ew, ma," he groaned, scrubbing at his lips with one grubby hand.

Buffy growled, tossed him over her shoulder and carried him upside down and laughing all the way to the car.

        ***********

"I love you," she whispered. "You know that, right?"

"Not particularly," Spike answered gruffly. "Hasn't been glaringly obvious up to now."

"Well, I do." She fell silent, thinking. "And not just because of what we do in bed. It's ...."

He waited patiently. It wasn't often that Buffy put her feelings into words and he wasn't about to derail her thoughts by making some smart-ass comment.

"The way you listen to me ... and tell me the truth about things even when I don't want to hear. It drives me crazy but I need it."

"Mm," he gave a non-committal grunt.

She snuggled in closer, squeezing him in her powerful arms and nuzzling her face against his chest. "Want more?" she teased.

"Yeah," he answered softly.

"I love the way you're so thoughtful and sweet under that stupid Big Bad exterior. I love knowing that, if I let you, you'd pamper me like a princess, but at the same time you'd push me to be as tough a fighter as I need to be. It's a rare thing, for a man to love a woman's strength."

"That it is. Angel couldn't do it," he was quick to point out.

"No," she agreed, smiling at his insecurity. "Angel likes being in charge too much."

"So ...." he drew the word out with a sibilant hiss, "You got anything in particular you want to command me to do? Ready and willing here."

"Not just now," Buffy said with a laugh. "I think we've done enough damage for a while. I'm happy just cuddling like this, aren't you?"

"It's more than I ever imagined," he answered solemnly. "You sure you're not under another of Willow's spells?"

"Uh-uh. This time it's for real."

        **********

Buffy listened at Jack's half open bedroom door to the murmur of voices inside: Jack's, plaintive and tear-soaked; Spike's, rumbly and soothing.

In a moment they stopped and she stepped away so that Spike could exit the door.

"Well?" she asked as he pulled it closed behind him. "Did you find out what happened?"

He took her arm and led her down the hall to their bedroom.

"He's quite a fighter, our Jack," Spike said proudly, closing the door behind him and gathering Buffy into his arms.

"And did you remember to tell him it's wrong to hit? That there's not any excuse for getting into a brawl on the playground?" She pushed against his chest and gave him a glare. "You were supposed to set him straight!"

"Look, pet, young Jack set a bully in his place good and proper. There's no harm in that. From what I understand this Fury kid's been harassing all and sundry ever since first grade."

"He could've gone to a playground monitor or .."

"Be a tell tale?" Spike sneered. "Come Buffy, what kind of ponce would you turn our boy into? He was protecting a weaker lad and I'm right proud of him. I won't tell him otherwise."

Buffy sighed and relaxed a little into his enfolding embrace. "Big bully, huh? How big?"

"Twice Jack's size to hear him tell it. And he got in some good licks before they pulled him off."

Against her will, Buffy smiled. "My god, I'm raising a little hellion," she said, resting her head on Spike's chest.

"That's the Summers blood in him," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Runs hot, doesn't it?"

"Hot enough to warm the undead," she teased, pulling away and giving him a lascivious smirk. "Want to find out?" She took his hand and pulled him to their bed.

        *******

In her sleep, Buffy smiled and turned and dreamed and dreamed ..

        The End
"Still Bound" - Epilogue or Teaser for season 7 - Whichever

Ending on Buffy's dream sequence was too upsetting for many so here's perhaps a better cliffhanger coda. If I had stuff plotted out, I'd just keep on going, but it's really bad to write without a master plan in place. You can paint yourself into a corner that way. Even this little bit may change as needed.

        *********

"Who has the power, Dawn?" Buffy asked, shadowing her sister as Dawn slowly moved toward the newly risen vamp. He was swaying slightly on his feet getting his bearings, scenting the air like an animal, brushing earth from his best Sunday suit with grubby fingers.

"I have the stake," Dawn answered confidently. "He, on the other hand, doesn't even seem to know what he is yet."

Buffy almost smiled at her cockiness. Almost.

"Wrong! He has instinct in his favor. He's a predator and you're a meal," she chided.

Heedlessly, Dawn lunged and drove the stake into the fledgling's chest. Then, both the vampire and the girl stared in surprise at the wood protruding from the front of his no longer white shirt. Blood was pooling around the stake and dripping down the dirty material.

"Oops!" Dawn said. "My bad." She grabbed the stake tighter and tried to pull it back out.

With an angry roar he backhanded her, knocking her sideways into a tombstone, and pulled the stake out himself.

"What the hell is this?" he asked. "Who are you people?" Ridged brow folded into further wrinkles of confusion as he looked from the stake to Dawn laying on the ground, to Buffy.

"Your destiny," Buffy explained as she drove her own stake neatly into his heart.

He exploded into a shower of dust that rained over the pair of them. Coughing and choking, Dawn climbed back to her feet, rubbing her sore shoulder.

"Ugh. Warn me when you're going to do that. I had my mouth open," she complained. "And, really, 'your destiny'? Puh-leaze! You should let me work the quips."

"You do this for six or seven years and still try to come up with something fresh," Buffy said, returning the stake to her pocket and running her hands over Dawn's arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Dawn pulled away from her. "Thought I had him," she muttered.

"It's easy to miss at first," Buffy comforted giving her shoulder a final pat. "I've done it myself." She added, "But just remember, it only takes once, one mistake and ...."

"I've got it," Dawn said impatiently. "Buh-bye Dawn. I'll be more careful next time."

The sisters walked side by side through the cemetery and this time nothing but crickets disturbed the quiet.

As they passed the elaborate stone pillars gracing the front of a crypt, Dawn glanced at Buffy's profile.

"Buffy?"

"Mm-hm."

"Do you ever ...? (think about Spike, miss him, wonder what happened to him, wonder if he misses us, wonder if he's dust, wonder if he's coming back, wish you'd never told him to leave) Uh, never mind," she finished awkwardly.

Buffy looked at her sharply. "No. Tell me. The counselor said we need to communicate more ... or better or something so communicate already. What do you want to ask?"

Dawn nodded and drew a deep breath. "You're right, or actually, Mrs. Schlarmin is right. We do need to talk more. I was just wondering if you ever think ..." she paused, "about what it would have been like if the baby had lived. I mean, you never really said anything about it, about what you were feeling. Granted at first Willow was in the middle of a psychic meltdown and then came Tara's funeral and we were all kind of distracted, but then after things settled down you still never talked about it."

She paused for breath. "Baby Jack ... even though you never met him, don't you kinda ... miss him? I do and he wasn't even mine. You've got to be feeling loss and grief and ...."

Dawn's rambling analysis went on, but Buffy had tuned it out at the words 'if the baby had lived.' Did she think of it? Only about a hundred times a day, every single day. And then there were the nights with the glorious technicolor dreams about a future she would never have. How could she have possibly imagined when she became pregnant that it would ever work out? That a Slayer, who by definition lived a violent life with an early death, could bear a child, let alone raise it to maturity.

"Mrs. Schlarmin told you to get me to open up, right?" she abruptly interrupted.

"Huh?" Dawn looked startled. "Well ... yeah, she did say something about the 'sisterly confessional' or whatever. You know how much she talks. I just zone out sometimes. But I do agree with her even if I don't like all her touchy-feely crap. You do need to express yourself, Buffy."

Coming to a dead halt, Buffy folded her arms across her chest and said, "Fine. Yes, it hurts. Yes, I think of him. But nothing's gonna change it so what good is yammering on and on? There! Is that enough 'sharing' for one night?" She resumed walking.

"Does it for me," Dawn answered bluntly, falling in step beside her.

"Good."

They walked a few more paces in silence.

"Want to stop and get a cappuccino? It's getting kind of cold out here," Dawn said.

"Sure."

They headed out of the graveyard, passing through the wrought iron gates and heading toward the shops down town.

        *********

In the shadow of a large oak tree at the edge of the cemetery, a black clad figure watched them walk away. A stray beam of moonlight infiltrated the leaves of the ancient tree and gilded his hair and profile silver. He instantly pulled back into deeper shadows like a snail retracting into its shell. Invisible and safe again he watched their figures recede down the street until they were too small for even vampire eyes to see.

        (To be continued eventually)

This piece was inspired by watching the real season 7 opener this morning. God, I love poor crazy Spike in the basement. But I don't know how messed up I want my Spike to be yet so for now he's just a figure in the shadows.