"Does the term, `security deposit' mean *anything* to you?"

Spike looked up from the pile of rubble that used to be his room, to
see Xander peering cautiously around the door.

"What the hell happened here, man?"

Spike looked at the dresser drawer he still held aloft. Instead of
throwing it at the wall like the others, though, he simply let it
drop to the floor, where it landed upside down with a broken handle.
It had gotten off easy. He sat down heavily on the bed and put his
head in his hands.

"I fucked up, mate," he said, without looking up.

"Welcome to my world," Xander sighed, surveying the damage. It would
take a lot of drywall to fix this mess. He cleared a spot on the
edge of the bed and sat down next to Spike. "So, what? The bliss
lasted all of twenty-four hours, did it?" he asked, looking at his
watch.

"Something like that."

"They're looking for you, you know. Been trying to call. Sent me to
find you."

"They?" Spike asked dully. He continued to stare at the floor.

"Buffy and Giles. Something about a prophesy? They're assembling
the troops."

Spike looked up and nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Buffy
alright? She say anything to you?"

Xander shrugged. "Not really. She's not pissed off or anything.
Just seems down. She's got a crisis to deal with now, though, and
you know how she gets."

"Yup, I do. General Buffy."

"What happened? You want to talk about it?"

Spike looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief. "I
really screwed up. Got jealous. The girl's with me, in my bed, and
I'm jealous of *him*, the poor bastard."

"What poor bastard?"

"Angel. Living, as it were, with that curse of his. It's just,
something she said, you know. Feel like I'm second choice or
something." He stood up and kicked the fallen drawer, and it broke
in half. "Idiot!"

"Look," said Xander, "I don't know what she said, but I'm sure the
only reason he's here is because of the prophesy. I don't know the
details yet, but...what?" Spike was staring at him, and Xander would
have sworn his eyes went two shades darker. "What'd I say?"

"He's here? Angel is *here*? In Sunnydale?" He took a step toward
Xander.

"Yeah, they just got here, all of them. His whole group from LA.
Cordy, Wesley, a couple of people I don't know. And this kid,
teenager, haven't figured out who he is yet. I thought that's how
you and Buffy got talking about...Spike? Where are you going? Wait
a second, I'll go with you..." he called, following him out of the
room. But Xander was left staring at the open apartment door. "Oh,
this is so not good," he said.

Spike was already gone.

*******************************

"So Connor is your..."

"Son. That's right. Mine and Darla's."

He sounds proud, Buffy thought. He and Darla had a kid and he's
proud of it. She sat down on the bench on the back porch, and he sat
next to her. She was still trying to take in all the information he
had given her since he'd arrived. Everything that had happened with
Darla's resurrection and revamping and then Connor's birth and
kidnapping. Her head was spinning.

"She really staked herself?" she asked again, staring out into the
darkness of the yard, illuminated only by patches of moonlight.

Angel nodded. "Yes. It was the only way to save Connor. She loved
him," he said softly. "Does that surprise you?"

Buffy smiled sadly. "No Angel, it doesn't surprise me that she
loved him. I know vampires can love. Even soulless ones. Some of
them, anyway."

Angel ignored the jab. "You're talking about Spike," he said.

She gave him a mischievous look. "Cordy told me already that you
know about us. You're taking it awfully well, I must say."

"I've had time," he said dryly, "several hours, even. Besides,
anyone's better than Riley Finn." This made Buffy laugh. "I only
know that he went and won his soul for you. I don't know what
happened after that. Not that it's any of my business...."

"But you're, pardon the expression, dying to know, right?" He rolled
his eyes at her. "Well, at first, when he came back from winning his
soul, it was very difficult for him. It probably was for you, too.
In fact, he once said to me that you should have warned him."

"Didn't see him much after I got the soul, and when I did, I tried to
hide it, make it seem like it didn't matter. We were never exactly
buddies, anyway."

"I suppose it wouldn't have made any difference, because once he's
got his mind set on something...but you're the one who first told me
that, aren't you? Anyway, it was really bad for a long time, and
then he got better at handling it, and well, short version, it's been
over a year, and we just got back together. At least, I think we
did. We sort of had a little fight." She looked sideways at
Angel. "I'm not sure what you think of all this, and I don't want to
hurt you," she stared down at the hands that were twisting nervously
in her lap, and willed them to be still. "But you should know." She
looked up at him. "I'm in love with him."

Angel stared straight ahead, his expression unchanging. Only a flare
of his nostrils, a twitch of his lip, showed her he was uncomfortable
with the situation. "Honestly? It's hard for me to imagine you with
Spike. But I understand that you've moved on. I have too, or I'm
trying to. I'm in love with someone, but we're not exactly together
right now. I'm still hopeful it will happen, though."

"Who is it? Not that little waif who works for you, is it?"

Angel smiled. "Fred? No, she's sweet, but no. It's Cordy."

Buffy's mouth flew open and she got up off the bench. "Cordelia?!"

Angel frowned. "Spike?"

"But he's changed!"

"So has she."

"Did she go and get a soul too?"

Angel stood, glaring down at her. "Buffy!"

She began to laugh, and then he did too. She walked over to him and
wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest. "Angel,"
she said, looking up into his eyes, "you'll always be my first love."

"And you mine."

He bent his head to kiss her, and as their lips touched, Buffy
thought, this is good-bye. We'll see each other again over the
years, but this is really, finally, good-bye. There was none of the
old spark left. Just warmth and nostalgia and a little sadness.

And then she heard him laughing. It was a terrifying sound.

"Well, well, well, ain't this the sweet little reunion?"

He stood at the base of the stairs, staring up at them, his eyes hard
and cold. Buffy stepped back quickly from Angel.

"Spike! I...I've been trying to call you."

"Sorry. Accidentally pulled the phone out of the wall. Because I
was home, beating myself, or more exactly, my room, up about acting
all jealous. Yeah, there I was, thinking, what an idiot you are
Spike. He means nothing to her. Guess I'm an idiot either way you
look at it, aren't I, pet?"

"Can I take that one?" Angel asked.

Buffy took a step down the stairs, keeping her eyes on Spike. "Shut
up, Angel. Spike, can we go somewhere and talk? I know you're
upset, but you've got this all wrong."

"I've got it wrong? To me, it looks like you were kissing your old
boyfriend. Correct my error. Please." His voice was deadly calm,
his eyes cold and unfeeling. His hands clenched and unclenched at
his side.

"It was just a friendly..."

"Oh, you're going to give me the old, `we're just friends' speech
again, are you? I didn't buy it then, I'm not buying it now."

She took another step down. "I wasn't in love with someone else
then, like I am now."

He started to laugh. He laughed so hard that tears came out of his
eyes and rolled down his cheeks. She began to get scared. He was
acting just like insane Spike again. "Spike? Baby please...." She
took the final step down the stairs and reached out to touch his
arm. Instantly, he sobered and pushed her so hard that she stumbled
backwards and sat down hard on the bottom step.

"Keep your hands off me, you deceitful bitch! At least when Dru
cheated on me with him," he said, jerking his thumb in Angel's
direction, "she was upfront about it."

Angel leapt from the porch over Buffy's head and landed between her
and Spike. "Don't speak to her like that. And don't touch her like
that again."

Spike smiled evilly. "Oh, my friend, you'd be surprised how rough
your precious Buffy likes it."

Angel grabbed him around the neck, choking him, but Spike brought his
knee up hard to Angel's groin, forcing him to let go and doubling him
over in pain. Spike took that opportunity to deliver an uppercut to
Angel's jaw, spinning him around before pushing him face first onto
the ground. Spike had his knee in the larger man's back in a flash,
one hand twisting Angel's arm behind his back. The other held a
stake poised over his heart. Then he heard the click of a crossbow
being loaded. Without turning around, he said, "go ahead and do it,
love."

"I ain't your `love,' man," said a deep, masculine voice. Spike
looked over his shoulder to see a young black man standing on the
porch, and he looked quite comfortable holding the weapon.

"Yeah? Well, I suppose you aren't my mate either, are you? In any
case, let that thing fly, and your boss here will be dust about the
same time I am. Vampire reflexes, you know."

Finally, Buffy looked up from the bottom step where she had remained
during their fight, head in her hands. She stood up slowly and
stepped between Gunn and Spike.

"Yo, Slayer! You're in my line of site!"

"You want to dust Spike, you'll have to go through me first," she
said quietly, wiping the tears from her face with the palms of her
hands.

"But he's going to dust Angel!"

"No," she said, "he won't."

Spike refused to look at her, and that's when she knew they were
o.k. He wouldn't be able to keep up the tough guy act if he looked
at her. And that's all it was, an act. She could see his hand
shaking from where she stood.

"Spike," she said, so softly she knew only he and Angel could
hear. "I love you, Spike."

His hand trembled more violently, and finally he threw the stake to
the side and stood up, releasing Angel. Buffy walked past him as he
struggled to his feet, and stood in front of Spike. "Please talk to
me," she said. He looked past her to the porch, and as she turned
she saw that the entire household was now crowded together, watching
them.

"I'll get rid of them," she heard Angel say. "Come on people, show's
over," he said, herding them back inside.

Buffy turned back around to see Spike walking away from her. "Please
don't leave," she said. To her ears, it sounded like begging. She
didn't care. He stopped, then turned around. He was about fifteen
feet away, and she could see the tears on his face, shiny in the
moonlight.

"You kissed him," he said.

The way he said it made her feel as though she had betrayed a holy
vow. And she thought her heart would break. She started to walk
towards him, and he took a step backward, holding his hand up to stop
her. "It was just," she searched for the right words. "It was like
a good-bye kiss. It wasn't anything romantic at all."

"You kissed him," he said again. "You had your mouth on his and your
arms around him, and you kissed him." His voice broke, and he stared
down at the ground, kicking the earth with one shoe.

"William. I am in love with you, not him! Angel's in love with
Cordelia. We really are just friends."

"He'll always be your first love, I heard you say it."

"I can't change that Spike. But it's just...history. I love you,
now."

"O.K." he sniffed. "Alright, whatever you say."

"Please," she pleaded, "don't do this. Let me explain. I know you're
hurt, but you've misunderstood the whole situation."

He shook his head. "I just can't do this right now, Buffy. I need
some time." He began to back away.

"No," she whispered. "Please don't leave me. Not now. I need you.
Something bad is happening and I don't even know what it is yet, and
I need you."

"You've got a whole army of people in there to help you, Slayer," he
said, gesturing toward the house. "Not that you'll need any help.
You'll be fine."

"But you're the one I want," she cried. "You're the one I need."

"It's about time," he said gently, "that you learned. It's not
always about what you want, and what you need. I'll be back." And
with a few loping strides, he disappeared into the darkness.

Buffy had just stood in the yard, staring at the spot where he had
disappeared into the dark for the longest time.

Spike left.

She couldn't believe it, and at the same time berated herself for
not expecting it. For being caught off guard. It was just how her
life went, after all. Just when everything seemed great, it went to
hell.

And when the going got tough, the men got going.

Now, she walked slowly and deliberately up the porch steps, opened
the screen door and stepped into the kitchen. She paused in the
doorway, seemed to contemplate the door for a moment, and then
slammed it as hard as she could. The frame splintered in several
places, and Buffy gave it a cold smile of satisfaction. Then she
marched into the living room, where all conversation had stopped,
and all heads turned to her.

She regarded them all for a moment, and then turned and headed up
the stairs. "I'm going to my room. I don't want to be bothered,"
she said, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"Hold on, Buffy."

She stopped in mid step and glared at the person who dared address
her. It was Wesley. "I *said,* I don't want to be bothered.
*Wesley.*"

He ignored the contempt she was trying so hard to convey. "I can
understand that. But there is the matter of a prophesy to discuss."

"Screw the prophesy." She took another step up the stairs.

"Buffy," he said patiently, "this could be very serious. And there
are others involved as well. Possibly Angel, possibly Spike."

She stared hard at him, hoping to intimidate him. It used to be so
easy to do, but now she was taken aback by the compassion in his
eyes. She hadn't really paid him much attention in the few hours
he'd been at her house. She had never paid much attention to Wesley
Wyndam-Pryce. But now, she noted the confidence with which he
spoke, his self-assured body language as he looked up at her, his
generally poised air.

He'd changed.

He spoke with authority, reminding her of Giles. And his eyes were
compassionate, tinged with sadness, and something else a bit more
dangerous. It was if they'd seen way too much in much too short a
time. Old eyes in a young face. A little like Spike in that way.
She was prepared to dismiss him, like she always had before, and
found that she couldn't. Her anger started to melt away, and that
was bad. Because that allowed the despair in. She could feel her
eyes filling up, and Wesley took a step towards her.

"Buffy?"

"Spike," she said, fighting to keep her voice even, "is gone." She
looked past Wesley to Giles. "He left me," she said, tears escaping
her eyes and running down her face. "He left me, like everyone
else. And I really don't care about the damn prophesy. Angel and
Spike can take care of themselves. As for me?" The anger
mercifully came back to her, and she brushed the tears
aside. "Bring it on." She ran the rest of the way up the stairs.

Giles sighed heavily. "I'll go talk to her."

Cordelia put a hand on his arm as he rose. "Let me try. I think
she might be more amenable to someone from the female gender at this
stage of the game."

"Then maybe I should go," said Willow. "I'm the best friend."

"Well, I'm the former vengeance demon. I have the most experience
in these matters," offered Anya. Giles smiled and patted her knee.

"Hey, wait a minute What about me? I'm the sister!" Dawn said,
looking to Giles.

Giles paused for a moment. "Let Cordelia do it," he said
gently. "You three are a bit too close to the situation. It might
be better for her to talk with someone a little more objective."

***********************

Cordy knocked softly before opening the door. "No boys allowed,"
came a muffled voice.

She opened the door a crack. "What about part demon seer-type
females?" she asked.

Buffy took the pillow off her head and sat up. "That's fine. I
seem to have a thing for demons, anyway." She flopped back on the
bed.

"Scoot over," said Cordy. The both lay on Buffy's bed, on their
backs, arms folded, staring at the ceiling.

So, seer. Can you see where Spike is?

No, sorry. Doesn't work that way.

"Figures," she sniffled. "You know, I really thought he'd be the
one who stuck around."

Cordy grabbed a box of tissues off the night stand and handed one to
Buffy. "What did he say when he left?"

"Oh, he needs time, blah, blah. He'll be back, blah, blah. You
know the drill." Buffy turned on her side and propped herself up on
one arm. "I am so sick of one great night and then everything
turning to crap. What is it with me anyway? Why do I only get one
night? Can you tell me that? Except for Riley. And truthfully?
None of them actually in the `great' category. More like the `quite
nice but not earth shattering' category."

Cordy sat up sideways on the bed. "At least your current beau
doesn't have a curse hanging over his head. Still, with the
suckage."

Now Buffy sat up too, her curiosity overcoming her
depression. "What's up with you and Angel anyway? He told me that
he loves you." She blew her nose loudly.

A slow smile spread across Cordy's face, along with a rising
blush. "Really?" she said, her voice turning a bit high pitched and
girlish. "I can't believe he told you. After the way he was acting
about you and Spike, I wasn't sure he still felt that way about me
anymore. Big jerk."

"So?" said Buffy with a grin. "Do you love him too?" Her smile
turned to shock, then she smiled again. "I so cannot believe we're
having this conversation. I'm all mature girl. And you? When did
you get all wise? Not to mention Wesley He's so...."

"Confident and dignified but with a sort of world weary sexiness?"

"Well, I was going to say, hot."

Cordy laughed. "Yes, there have been some amazing changes along the
way, that's for sure. But to answer your question, yes, I love
Angel very much. It's just, well, you heard about my time as
a `higher being?'" She rolled her eyes, and Buffy nodded. "Well,
it's kind of a `know all' situation, and I got to know Angelus up
close and personal. Not just seeing what he did, but feeling what
he felt. How he got off on it."

Buffy's smile had faded and her brow furrowed in concern. "You
mean, when he was killing and everything?"

"Yeah," Cordy nodded, "Jenny's death was a particular high for
him."

"So," Buffy said, "you can't forgive Angel?"

"No, I do. I mean, it's not that I even blame Angel for all that,
but it kind of threw me, and I just couldn't be with him
romantically for awhile. What do you think you'd do? If you could
see and feel Spike as a killer that way?"

"Cordelia," Buffy said quietly, "I'm a killer. Yes, I kill evil
things. But I've also done some pretty terrible things to people
who loved me. People who didn't have it coming." She picked at a
loose thread on the bedspread as she spoke, then looked up at
Cordy. "I'm sure you're aware of that. Being formerly all-knowing
and everything." Buffy could feel her face burning, but she met
Cordy's eyes steadily.

"Yes," Cordy said. "I do."

"I know exactly who Spike is. He's the man who risked everything.
For me." She took a deep, shaky breath. "But back to you and
Angel. What are we going to do with you two? I mean, you're
actually in the same house, at least."

"I don't know. It's been so long, now, that I think both of us are
scared to even go there again, you know?"

"I know. I know exactly what you mean."

"And from your experience," Cordy said, smiling sadly, "I suppose
your advice would be to give it up, it's not worth the risk, right?"

Buffy chewed her lip thoughtfully and shook her head. "No," she
finally said, "it *is* worth the risk. Even after the way this all
blew up in my face, if I had to do it again, I would tell Spike the
way I feel about him all over again."

"Must have been some night."

"Yeah," she sighed, "it was. But beyond that, he deserved to know."

"Do you think he'll be back?" asked Cordy.

Buffy shrugged. "He said he would."

"Is he a man of his word?" Cordy asked.

A smile played at the corners of Buffy's mouth. "Always."

**********************

"Spike What's it been, a year or so since I saw you last Where
you been hiding yourself, friend?"

"At much posher establishments. And I ain't your friend. Just give
me a drink and shut the hell up, Willy."

Willy laughed nervously. "Sure, sure What it'll be, frien...I
mean, Spike?"

"JD. And make it a double." Willy set a glass on the bar. "No,
wait," said Spike, grabbing the bottle out of the bartender's
hands. "On second thought, I think I fancy the whole bottle. Now
bugger off." He threw some bills on the not so well polished
mahogany, and Willy scooped them up and scurried to the other end of
the bar to wait on some Kurlok demons. Spike filled his glass to
the brim, a little of the amber liquid spilling over the sides, and
slammed the bottle down on the bar.

Suddenly, a heavy hand clamped down on Spike's shoulder, and he
whirled around, fangs at the ready, itching for a fight. He was
sorely disappointed. "Oh. Hello, Clem." Spike shook off his game
face.

"My, my, my, Mr. Grumpy " said Clem, climbing onto the barstool next
to Spike. "I think someone needs a nap!"

Spike just shook his head and smiled into his glass. This pissed
him off. He really did not want to smile. He picked up his glass
of whiskey and finished off the contents in one gulp. This helped.
A little.

"Grumpy and back on the hard stuff. My guess? Girl problems,"
suggested Clem. Spike nodded. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

Clem ordered a beer and a bag of chips, and Willy slid them down the
bar to him before hurrying back to his preferred location, which was
as far away from Spike as he could get.

"It might help to talk to a friend."

"Clem...." Spike turned to his friend with every intention of
telling him to get lost in the nicest way he could manage, given his
mood, but the demon was looking at him with such floppy eared
earnestness that he couldn't do it. "O.K.," Spike sighed, "you're
right. Girl problems. Slayer problems, if you must know."

"What happened?" Clem asked, concern clouding his normally guileless
puppy dog eyes. "Did she hurt you again? Because if she did, I'll,
I'll...I'll give her a good talking to, that's what I'll do "

"Calm down, mate," Spike said, putting a hand on Clem's arm. "No,
she didn't hurt me. Not physically, at least. We actually got back
together. For like, five minutes. See, she came to my place, and
she told me she loved me."

"And this is bad because....?"

"No, that's not the bad part. That's the bloody dream come true
part. Because we have this grand, passionate night together...."

"Uh huh." Clem took a swig of his beer, and Spike could see his
droopy ears turning a bright shade of pink.

"....and then her ex shows up back in town."

"That soldier guy again?"

"No, the other one. The vamp."

Clem nodded. "Ah, the one with the soul. Er, otheronewiththesoul."

"Right. And then it all went to hell."

"She went back to him? That's terrible" Clem munched angrily on a
chip.

"No, not exactly," Spike admitted. "I showed up just at the moment
they were in a big clinch. Kissing. A good-bye kiss, she said.
But I heard her," he said, his voice raising in anger. "She told
him,' you'll always be my first love, Angel.' How can I bloody
compete with that?" He poured himself another drink, threw it back,
and pounded the glass down on the bar. "Then she told me that I'm
the one she loves now. But I know, though. She's just stuck with
me, that's all. Can't have him, her bleedin' soul mate, so she
settles. You should have heard her. `I need you Spike, please
don't go.' It's always about what she needs, you know?"

He looked over at Clem, expecting to share a look of righteous
indignation with him. Instead, Clem looked baffled. "What?"

"So, let's review," said Clem. "The slayer, the girl you've been in
love with for like, forever, the girl you turned your whole world
upside down for, finally tells you she loves you. And you leave?"

"Uh....it's a bit more complicated than that, mate. Weren't you
listening?"

"Complicated, shomplicated. You love her. She loves you.
Simple." He smiled beatifically.

Spike closed his eyes in frustration. "But she said he would always
be her first love "

"So? If I was you...which," he looked at Spike, then down at
himself, "so NOT, but if I was, I would be asking myself, would I
rather be her first love...or her last?" He held out the foil bag
to Spike. "Dorito? They're nacho cheese."

Spiked banged his head on the bar. "I am *such* a wanker."

tbc...
 

Belonging, Chapter 9

"Giles? Couple of questions for you."

Giles looked up from the dusty tome he was paging through and
sighed, removing his glasses. He was not really in the mood to deal
with the likes of Xander. Spike was still gone, Buffy was beside
herself, and they had yet another prophesy of impending but non-
specific doom hanging over their heads. Despite this, his guilt
over the fact that he was shagging Xander's ex put him in a rather
conciliatory mood.

"What is it, Xander?"

"I have two things to ask you," the young man said,
uncharacteristically serious. "First, and most importantly, do you
think I should go out and look for Spike?"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index
finger and then motioned for Xander to sit down. "I've thought
about that myself. I've come to the conclusion that even if we knew
where to look ..."

"He's either at the Bronze getting drunk or at Willy's getting
drunk," Xander said matter-of-factly.

"Probably so. But even if we do find him, he's not likely to be
returning unless he bloody well makes up his own mind to do so. And
the state he's in, I doubt either of us could say anything to
convince him otherwise, let alone force him to come around."

"So the short answer is, `no,' right?"

Giles allowed himself a smile. Xander was amusing, no doubt, and
Giles had a persistent and rather annoying affection for the
boy. "That would be a correct interpretation. In my opinion, `no.'"

"I'm with you on that one. Second question: Is something going on
between you and Anya?" Xander sat back in his chair, arms crossed
in front of him, gaze unwavering.

Giles regarded the young man steadily. He would be damned if he
would be intimidated by someone he'd known since he was a pimply-
faced high school sophomore. Albeit a brave, pimply-faced high
school sophomore. "Short answer? `Yes.'"

That's when Xander's gaze faltered, and his eyes left Giles's,
looking down at the floor instead. He took a deep, unsteady breath,
then looked back up.

"Don't hurt her. I know that I sound like a hypocrite, because
that's exactly what I did, but she's been through a lot, and I don't
want to see her hurt again."

Giles put his glasses back on and softened his tone. "I care for
her, Xander. I have no intention of hurting her," he said, hoping
that his words conveyed the sincerity he felt.

Xander nodded and ran a hand through his shaggy locks.

"Good."

**********************

"And how are you ladies doing, here?" asked Wes. He paced behind
Willow and Fred, who were sitting side by side at the dining room
table, both peering intently into separate laptops.

"I'm checking the Ethnologue database for Ancient and Archaic
Languages. Thought it might help us with the translation," said
Willow without looking up.

"Any success?"

"Well, I `m running a program which has cross referenced our text
with over five hundred languages or dialects, and nothing so far."
She gave him an apologetic look.

Wes paused and looked over her shoulder at the screen. "How long
before you've finished cross referencing, would you estimate?"

Willow sighed. "Five hundred down," she turned and gave him a
rueful smile, " 38, 500 to go."
He smiled back and resumed his pacing. "And what about you, Fred?
Is your luck any better?"

"I'm looking at lunar calendars from the last one hundred years and
trying to extrapolate the predicted date that the prophesy will be
fulfilled, which, since we don't even know the exact translation of
the prophesy," she looked at Wes over the top of her glasses, "is a
little bit difficult."

Wes put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Thank you. I know
you're both doing the best you can, given the circumstances."

Gunn and Xander observed this scene from across the room. "Smart
women are so hot," commented Gunn.

"Yeah," said Xander, "I whole-heartedly agree." His eyes drifted
over to Anya, who was sitting on the arm of the chair Giles was
occupying, helping him decipher some information from that ancient
book.

"You know," said Gunn, "I used to go out with her."

"What?" asked Xander, returning his attention to Gunn. "Oh, sorry.
You used to go out with Fred?"

"Yeah," sighed Gunn. "We were really in love. And then, well,
sometimes crap just happens, you know?"

"Yup," Xander said, nodding in agreement. "Sometimes crap just
happens. And sometimes we make our own. And either way you're
bound to step in it and get it all over your shoe. And I am so not
liking this metaphor." He glanced at Gunn. The guy wasn't really
listening anyway. Too wrapped up in his own problems.

"And of course, *he's* been biding his time, and now there he is,
ready to make his move. Got his hand on her shoulder, telling her
what a good job she's doing. He's no dummy. Stroke the girl's
intellect, that's what gets her hot," Gunn said disgustedly.

"Oh, I don't think Wesley is the one you have to worry about,
jealous guy," said Lorne from behind them.

Xander turned to look at the green skinned demon with red horns.
Note to self, he thought - begin to worry when green skinned demon
with red horns does not faze me one iota. He wondered what an iota
was.

"They're humming!" Gunn said, realization dawning. "You can read
them! What is it Lorne?"

"I really shouldn't...."

"Lorne, I will so kick your...." Gunn took a menacing step toward
him.

"Alright, alright! Take it easy, slick." He lowered his voice and
spoke confidentially. "See, this is the thing. Those two techno
babes? They only have the hots for... each other."

Xander patted his shoulder in a comforting gesture, as Gunn's
mouthed dropped open in amazement. He looked from Lorne, to the
table, and back again. Then he just shook his head. "Crap."

*****************************

Buffy splashed cold water on her face, washing away the latest batch
of tears. She pressed her face into the towel, breathing in the
comforting scent of fabric softener. Nice, normal, everyday stuff
like the smell of Bounce was very appealing right now. All she
wanted to do was crawl back into bed and cry for a little while
longer, like any normal girl who's boyfriend had left her. Instead,
she pulled some makeup out of the drawer in the vanity, and went to
work.

"You alright?" asked Dawn. She stood awkwardly in the bathroom
doorway.

Buffy slicked on some lip gloss, then turned her way. "No, I'm
not. I'm a wreck. But the important thing is, how do I look?" She
tried to smile reassuringly.

"You look beautiful," Dawn said, "like always." She looked down at
the floor and outlined the shape of the tiles with her toe.

"Something you want to talk about?" Buffy asked. She sat down on
the toilet seat to listen.

Dawn crossed her arms in front of her, and continued her fascination
with the tile. "How am I supposed to feel about him now?" she
asked, without looking up. "I mean, I loved him, and then I hated
him, and then I sort of loved him again...."

"You feel the way you feel, I guess."

"Do you hate him?" Dawn asked.

"No, honey. I love him. I'm upset with him, but I still love him."

Dawn finally raised her eyes, and Buffy could see that they were
brimming with tears. "Why does everyone always leave us?" she
asked. One tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek.

"Oh, Dawnie," said Buffy, getting up and crossing the room to take
her in her arms. "He's going to come back. I know he will."

****************************

Spike meandered his way toward Revello Drive, but he was in no way
taking the short route. Clem had offered to come with, but he'd
declined. Needed some time alone, to think. To sober up. To
berate himself for being a complete wanker.

But, hey, it wasn't all his fault. Who could blame him for being a
bit jealous? He'd seen them snogging, after all. His blood boiled
at the thought of it.

`But she said she needed you. Loved you. She begged you not to
leave.'

"Oh, shut up!" he said out loud. Bleedin' conscience. He changed
his direction and headed toward Shady Rest. He really needed to
kill something.

*****************************

Buffy and Dawn walked arm and arm down the stairs, both armed with a
handful of tissues. Buffy smiled when she saw Angel and Cordy
snuggled into a corner of the couch, talking. Everyone else was
busy working; researching or, in the case of Xander and Gunn and
Connor, sharpening weapons. She also noticed that Connor raised his
head and smiled when he saw them walking down the stairs. And he
wasn't smiling at Buffy.

Oh, yay, Buffy thought. Time to worry about that complication
later. She cleared her throat, and all eyes fell on her.

"Wes? What can you tell me about this prophesy? I'm ready to hear
it, now."

Wes took off his glasses and smiled at her. "Your timing is
excellent, Buffy. I think that Willow and Fred may have some
information for us. Ladies?"

"Well," said Willow, "we already know from Wesley's translation that
the prophesy concerns the slayer who has twice crossed over. Which
seems to make it clear that it's you and not Faith. We also know
that a vampire with a soul is involved. I was able to translate a
bit more of that part of the text. The prophesy indicates that the
vampire with a soul will be the slayer's champion." She glanced at
Angel. "Is that vague enough for you?" He smiled at her. Cordelia
just looked worried.

"What about you, Fred?" Wesley asked.

"I *think,*" Fred said, "that I've got the timing narrowed down
pretty well. From my calculations, based on the information that
Wes and Willow were able to give me, the prophesy will come to
fruition tomorrow night!" she finished proudly, snapping her laptop
closed.

From out of nowhere, a blue light, like a crack of lightning,
flashed and then disappeared, leaving in it's place an open portal
through which stepped a hooded figure with glowing green eyes, the
remainder of its face obscured in darkness. The entire room was
illuminated by the eerie blue light that emanated through this
doorway to another world.

"Of course," said Fred, "I could be a day or so off."

Belonging, Chapter 10

The robed figure addressed Buffy.  "You are the slayer."

"See, now you've got me at a disadvantage.  You know who I am - I
don't know you from Adam."

"I am the One Who Rules Below," he answered in a deep, resonant
voice.

Buffy turned to Anya.  "Do you know this guy?"

Anya nodded.  "Yes!  He's the One Who Rules Below."  She grinned
with satisfaction at Buffy, as if she had just imparted some
essential knowledge.

"Kinda got that, Ahn.  We all actually have ears.  Tell us something
useful, like, is he evil?" said Xander.

"Not evil, exactly.  More like all-powerful.  You know the type.  I
met him at a party, once."  She stepped forward and smiled
flirtatiously.  "Well, we weren't actually formally introduced. 
Hello, my name is...."

The being held up his hand.  "Silence."  His voice was calm, but
commanding.  Anya hurriedly returned to her position next to Giles,
who placed a supportive arm around her waist.
   
"I don't stand on ceremony much," said Buffy,  "so let's cut to the
chase.  What do you want?"

"Your soul," he answered.

**********************************

Spike had killed a record number of vampires in the hour he'd spent
at Shady Rest.  It hadn't helped.  He still felt as restless as
ever, like he was going to jump out of his skin.  It wasn't that he
was afraid of the slayer, exactly.

Well, yeah, he was.  The wrath of Buffy.  God, she was going to kill
him.  Might as well go and face the music, get it over with.

He turned the corner onto Revello Drive, and knew immediately that
something was off, though it took him a moment to suss out exactly
what it was.  The house in the middle of the street looked odd.  It
was Buffy's house.  He stopped and observed for a moment.  It was as
if someone was watching telly with the lights off, and the
flickering blue light of the television shown through the windows. 
Except, given the amount of light he saw, there must be about a
hundred tv's in there.

He started to run.

**********************************
               
"Your soul was returned to you without the proper sacrifice.  The
balance has been disrupted.  It  must be restored."

"W...wait a minute."  Willow looked around nervously.  "I did
perform the proper ceremony.  I followed all the steps..."

"The urn was broken, was it not?  The ceremony was not completed."

"But, then why did you let her come back?"

"The transference had already begun.  It was not under my
jurisdiction, at the time."

Giles stepped forward, placing Anya behind him.  "So, you're saying
that this was a ...clerical error?"

The being shifted uncomfortably.  "The person responsible for the
error has been...replaced."  From within his hood there came a flash
of very white, very sharp teeth.  "We've reorganized."

Fred looked up at Lorne and Gunn, who now stood behind her seat at
the dining room table.  "Should we be doing something?" she asked,
in a hushed voice.

"Just stay out of the line of fire, crumpet," Lorne whispered back. 
He glanced at Gunn, who was eyeing the weapons they'd lain on the
table.  "Don't even think about it, hot shot.  This one's got major
mojo."

Giles took another step toward the robed figure.  "Well, I'm sorry
but `we made a mistake, so sorry.  Now give us back your soul' is
just not a good enough reason to...."  With a wave of a robe clad
arm, Giles went flying through the air, hitting the wall with a thud
and sliding down to the floor, unconscious.

"Rupert!" Anya screamed.  She rushed to his side.  The others turned
to follow her, but were temporarily frozen in their tracks. 

"He is alive," said the being, releasing them.  "The former demon
may attend him.  The slayer will come with me."

"You know," Buffy said, "if you'd come to me a year and a half ago,
I would have agreed to go with you, no problem.  I would have
welcomed it."  Her voice trembled and she paused, composing
herself.  "Now," she smiled, "not so much."

Willow wrung her hands, and her big brown eyes filled with
tears.  "Buffy, I'm so sorry."

"Here, here, wait just a moment,"said Wesley, in his most reasonable
voice.  "There must be some sort of acceptable alternative.  An
arrangement that can be made?  Since it was due to your, well,
miscalculation, shall we call it?  That this...situation...has
arisen.  Hmm?"

The being paused, then nodded.  "There is, as you say, an
alternative.  A trial is involved."

"A trial?" Angel asked.  He went to stand up, but Cordelia grabbed
his hand.  He smiled at her reassuringly, giving her hand a squeeze
before making his way towards Buffy.  "I'll do it."

"Now, wait just a minute, buster," said Buffy.  Her eyes flashed
angrily.

"Buffy.  You've never been through this sort of otherworldly trial
before.  I have.  Experience counts in these things, believe me."

"Well, if that's the case, Peaches, then I'm the one with the most
recent experience."  Spike leaned nonchalantly against the front
door.

"Ah, the soul seeker," said the robed figure.  "What an interesting
collection of associates you have, Slayer."

"That's what I was just thinking," Buffy said.  Her face was turning
red, and her eyes shot daggers at Spike as he sauntered into the
room.

"So let me get this straight, mate.  I participate in this trial of
yours, and if I win I keep my soul, and if I lose, you keep it? 
That about cover it?"

The being nodded.  "Precisely."

"Hold on, Spike.  Who said it was going to be you?  I already said I
would do it."

"Angel," said Spike patiently, pointing his index finger at his
head,  "think.  If Buffy loses her soul, she's dead.  If you lose
yours, you're Angelus.  I know soulless Spike ain't no picnic, but
I'm your best alternative.  Besides," he added, crossing his arms
over his chest, "I'm gonna win."
               
"Wait a minute," Buffy began.

"It is decided," intoned the robed figure.  "I choose the vampire,
known as Spike.  I'm sure you will be very...entertaining.  You may
have one of your days to prepare."   The being stepped through the
portal and it closed behind him.  They all just stared at the space
where the portal had been for a moment. 

Giles' groan broke the silence, and Anya helped him sit up as he
rubbed the back of his head.  "I must be back in Sunnydale."

Once Buffy realized Giles was o.k., she addressed Spike.  "We need
to talk."

"It's alright, pet.  Don't worry.  This guy's trials can't be any
worse than Africa.  I'll do fine."  He went to put his hands on her
shoulders, and she backed out of his reach.  Something was wrong. 
She didn't look grateful.  Or worried, even.  She looked brassed off
is how she looked.

"I have made a vow not to hit you anymore, but I really, really want
to right now."

"Buffy...."

"You stupid, hot headed, idiotic...argh!  The both of you!" she
said, glaring at Angel as well.

"Buffy, we were only trying to help," Angel said.

"By offering up your souls?  What is wrong with you?  Making this
into some stupid macho pissing contest!"  Her eyes turned to Spike
and her voice dropped almost to a whisper.  "I thought you were
different.  I thought you respected me enough to let me fight my own
battles."

"Buffy, my God, this is your life we're talking about!"

"I would have figured something out!  I *always* figure something
out!  But no, you have to be just like Angel and think you know
what's best for Buffy."

Angel took a step toward her and held out his hands, speaking in a
soothing voice.  "Buffy?  Let's just all sit down and discuss...."

"Oh, why don't you both go stake yourselves!"  She pushed past them,
stepping over Dawn and Connor who sat on the landing, and ran up the
stairs.  They could hear the slam of her bedroom door moments later.

Angel gave Spike a patronizing smile and put a hand on his
shoulder.  "William, my boy, she's all yours."

Spike gazed up the stairs and sighed.  "Thanks.  Pillock."

*********************************

He opened the door to her room and quietly closed it behind him. 

"Don't you knock?" Buffy asked.  She paced around her room
furiously.

"Didn't think I needed to knock on my girlfriend's door."  He took a
step closer, eyeing her clenched fists warily.  "You are still my
girl, aren't you?"

She whirled around to face him.  "*You* are the one who left *me*,"
she said.   

"Told you I'd be back," he countered.

"And I should have known it'd be with a dramatic entrance, too." 
Her hands were defiantly on her hips, but the corners of her mouth
quirked up, and he could see he had an in.

"I'm so sorry, pet.  I never should have left.  I'm a complete
wanker.  Clem even told me so."

This made her smile full out.  "I should have known Clem could talk
some sense into you.  He's such a romantic."

Spike moved close enough to touch her, and reached out to caress her
face with his hand.  She closed her eyes.  "I won't ever leave you
again, I promise," he said.

She opened her eyes and took a step backwards.  He'd lost her
again.   "Except for that little excursion to the underworld, or did
you forget about that?"

"I'm going to win, baby.  I'm going to come back to you, soul
intact.  No worries."

"I don't believe it," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.  "I
never thought I'd see the day.  You are acting so like Angel it's
not even funny."

His eyes narrowed.  "You take that back."

"Fighting my battles for me?  Thinking you know better than me? 
That is such an Angel thing to do."

"You *know* that I have never done that before.  You're the slayer. 
I've never tried to make your decisions for you."

"Then why now?"

"Because," he said, voice thickening with emotion, "because I can't
lose you.  Not again.  Not after everything we've been through."

Her face softened.  "Spike, you still had no right to do this.  This
should have been my fight.  And what if...what if..."

"What if I lose my soul?

"Yeah," she whispered.  She moved toward him, brushing back his hair
from his forehead.  "What if you lose your soul?"

"You tell me."  He didn't realize her answer meant so much to him
until he asked the question. 

"You'll still love me," she said.

He nodded.  "I will.  You're in every part of me, Summers.  Every
molecule.  But you didn't love me until I had a soul."  There.  He'd
said it.  Too late to unsay it now.  He wondered if she could feel
his hands trembling as they rested lightly on her waist.

He guessed she could, because it was then he felt the muscles in her
own body tense.  She dropped her eyes, and sighed.  "Only because I
didn't want to.  Wouldn't let myself."  She laced her hands behind
his neck and he leaned down, resting his forehead against
her's.  "If I had, maybe things would have worked out differently. 
Maybe you wouldn't have had to..."

"Don't do this to yourself," he said.  "You don't know that. 
Besides, I'm the one that..."

She put her finger to his lips.  "Shh.  It doesn't matter.  None of
that matters anymore.  Do you really think I could ever give you up
now?"  she asked, her voice breaking. "No matter what happens, we're
in this together.  We'll find a way."

Spike tightened his arms around her.  "I love you, Buffy, and I'm
not going to let that happen.  I got my soul for you.  I'm not gonna
lose it."

"I love you too."  She embraced him fiercely for a moment, then
pulled out of his arms and crossed to the door.  "Now, I should be
mad at you for a lot longer, but we've only got one day to prepare,
so, first things first."  Locking the door, she turned around and
leaned back against it, giving him a seductive smile.  "Strip."

He grinned and peeled his shirt off in one quick motion.  "Your wish
is my command."

Angel watched with amusement as Spike trudged up the stairs to make
nice with Buffy.  He felt the oddest sense of relief wash over him. 
He hated to even think it, because he admired Buffy, and she would
always own a piece of his heart.  But she was still a bit of a
brat.  Could never take an offer of help graciously.  Well, William
had always been an unholy terror in his own right - they deserved
each other. 

He turned his eyes to Cordelia, who was now approaching from the
other side of the room.  Thank goodness they had a calm, adult
relationship.  "Hey, Cordy."  He smiled gratefully at her.

She punched him in the arm.  Hard.

"Don't `hey Cordy' me, you big dumb lug!"

"First of all, ow.  Second, what did I do?" he asked, rubbing his
arm. 

"What did you do?"  She had her hands on her hips and her eyes were
one step away from doing that glowy, demony thing, which was very,
very bad.  "What did you do?  `Hey Buffy, I'll go.  Who cares if I
might have to give up my soul?  Again.'  ARE YOU FREAKING BRAIN
DEAD?!"

She stalked off towards the kitchen, and Angel heard the sound of
barely contained laughter behind him.  When he turned to see where
it was coming from, Xander completely lost it and began to laugh out
loud.

"Better you than me, man," Xander said as he walked by, still
chuckling.  "Better you than me." 

******************
           
Later that night, after Buffy had fallen asleep, Spike padded down
the stairs and carefully stepped over the sleeping bags that were
laying on the living room floor.  When he opened the refrigerator
door, the darkness of the kitchen was briefly illuminated by it's
light, then all was dark again.  He took his beer and headed out
onto the back porch, surprised to see Angel and Lorne already
there. 

"So what's this?  Nobody awake but us demons?" he asked. 

"Something like that," Angel answered.  "Well, Cordy's asleep, but
she's only part demon, so I guess she doesn't qualify."  He took a
long draw on his own bottle of beer.

"Pull up a chair, cowboy," invited Lorne.  He nodded toward the one
between him and Angel, and Spike stepped over Lorne's outstretched
legs before easing himself into the chair.

"You seem awfully relaxed for someone about to face underworld
trials," commented Angel, observing Spike's sprawling posture.

Spike considered mentioning just how relaxing a few hours with Buffy
could be, then thought better of it.  "Yeah, right.  That's why I'm
down here drinkin' beer with you two instead of upstairs with my
girl.  She's snoring away adorably, and I'm starin' at the
ceiling."  Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Spike was
almost sorry he put that little dig in.  Almost.   

"Actually, mine's a sea breeze," said Lorne, holding up a glass of
vaguely pinkish liquid.  "And if you're worried, crumb cake, I could
do a little reading on you."

Ordinarily Spike would have balked at the pastry endearments, but he
had noticed that this Lorne fellow did the same thing to everyone. 
Plus, he was bloody likable.  "Reading?" Spike asked.  He wasn't
sure he liked the sound of that.  More mojo he could do without.

"Lorne can read people, see their futures, but only when they sing,"
explained Angel.  "It's okay, he's read me a couple of times."

"You had to listen to Peaches' dulcet tones?" Spike laughed as Lorne
grimaced.  "My sympathies, mate.  And thanks for the offer, but I
don't sing."

"You don't have to belt out a Broadway tune.  Just hum a few bars..."

"I mean, I don't sing *anymore.*  And I *especially* do not hum." 
Spike guzzled his beer, trying to drown the memory of a certain folk
tune which was a little too close to the surface.  "Had a bad
experience.  Don't wanna talk about it."

Lorne looked at him closely, then gave him a small smile.  "I
understand, brave heart.  No problem."  He observed the two vampires
for a moment, downed the remainder of his drink, then rose to his
feet.  "It's time for me to get my beauty sleep.  Something you two
handsome devils would know nothing about."  He opened the back door,
giving them a wave as he stepped inside.  They both nodded to him as
he left.

"So," asked Angel, "you worried?"

"Nah."  Spike took another drink and put his feet up on the porch
railing.  "Do I look worried?"

"It's not how you look.  You and Buffy obviously made up, yet here
you are, talking to me."

"Didn't know you were out here.  Wanted to be alone."

"O.K."  Angel braced his hands against the arms of the chair and
half rose out of his seat.  "I'll go."

"It's okay," Spike said, "you can stay."  He added a shrug.  "If you
like."

Angel suppressed a smile and sat back down.  "So what are you going
to do if you lose?"

Spike leaned his head back against the chair and laughed
bitterly.  "Just like you to assume I'll lose."

"Not assuming anything.  I'd bet on you, for your sheer stubbornness
alone.  But isn't that what you're worried about?  What'll happen
with you and Buffy if you lose your soul?"

Spike stared out into the darkness.  "I'm not like you," he said
quietly.  "I went and got my soul *for* her."

"Well, it's not like I lost mine on purpose!"  Angel stared down
into his bottle.  "The first time, anyway."
   
Spike just shook his head and studied the ceiling.

Angel finished his beer, then set the bottle down on the
floor.  "You know," he said, "I was pretty shocked when I heard
about this whole soul quest of yours - at first.  But when I found
out you had a thing for Buffy?  It all made perfect sense."  He gave
Spike a sideways glance.  "You and your women.  You are so whipped."

"Yeah?  What of it?  You're out here drinking away your troubles
with the pretty cheerleader."

"That's not my fault.  She ..." Angel began.  Spike quirked an
eyebrow in interest.  "Never mind.  We're not talking about me,
we're talking about you.  The point I was trying to make is that you
need to consider all the possibilities.  How are you going to
control those evil impulses without a soul?"  Angel's voice dropped
low.  "Sometimes it's damn near impossible even with one."

"Well, it's not like you ever actually *tried* to control your evil
impulses without a soul, is it?  And did you miss the part where I
went to the other side of the planet so I could get my soul
*back*?"  Spike put his feet down on the floor and sat forward in
his chair, staring intently at Angel.

"No," Angel said without looking at him.  "I didn't miss that part,
Spike.  But now you know how it feels to have a soul.  How much it
hurts.  The constant guilt, the torment.  Even if you manage to push
it down, beneath the surface, even in your happiest moments, it's
always there."

"Yeah.  It's always there." Spike said, his voice full of
emotion.  "It's always there, except for those moments when I'm with
her."  He waited for Angel to look at him, and when he finally did,
Spike said.  "She's worth it." 

"I know she is," Angel said quietly, looking away again.

Spike sat there gazing at the vampire he had admired, feared, loved,
hated, but most of all resented for decades, and felt
compassion.  "Sorry," he mumbled, before taking another swig.

Angel's head was bowed, but when he spoke his voice held no
malice. "My situation is not your fault.  You've paid your dues,
William.  No need to be sorry for me."  He met Spike's eyes.  "Just
don't screw this up."

Spike stood up and walked to the back door.  Looking over his
shoulder, he said, "I won my soul for her.  I'm not about to lose it
now."

*****************

When he opened the bedroom door, he expected to find her curled up,
asleep.  Instead she rolled over and sat up when she heard it click
shut.  "You o.k.?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, slipping off his clothes as he made his way towards
the bed.  "Sorry, I thought I'd get back before you woke up.  Just a
bit restless is all."  He climbed in beside her and wrapped his arms
around her.

"It's o.k.  I looked outside and saw you guys down there talking.  I
was big with the anxiety, at first, but hey, no bruises!  And don't
worry.  I didn't hear what was said." 

Spike kissed along her jaw.  "Nothing important."

"Yeah, I bet.  You and Angel just having the casual chit chat."  She
sighed with pleasure as his lips moved to her neck.  "We really
should get some sleep.  Once everyone's up, we've only got a few
hours to prepare."

"Mmm, hmm."  His mouth continued to travel across her shoulder, and
he moved the strap of her camisole aside.  "Well, this'll help me
sleep, love."

"Spike, come on.  I want everyone up early tomorrow.  Willow and
Fred can get back online, and Wesley and Giles can hit the books. 
We can do a little sparring.  What do you think?  Spike?"  She
jabbed him in the shoulder.  "Spike?"

He raised his head and gave her a look that was half adoration, half
exasperation.  "I think you bloody talk too much, that's what I
think!"

"Hey," she said.  She pushed him onto his back and crawled on top of
him so she could look down into his eyes. "You're the one who's
going to be facing these trials.  I'm just trying to help."

His hands traveled lazily up her back.  "Oh, you're helping.  Keep
wriggling `round like that, love.  That's helping muchly."

"Spike!"  She half-heartedly tried to bat his hands away.  "You're
not serious about this at all!  Don't you care what happens?"

That got his attention.  He raised himself up on one arm, eyes
blazing.  "Are you daft?  `Course I care!  Just don't know how I'm
supposed to prepare for trials I know nothing about, s'all.  I mean,
if they're anything like Africa, months of preparing wouldn't have
helped.  One day is pretty much useless." 

Her chin began to tremble.  "I...I know that.  I just, we have to
*do* something."

It was then that he saw how afraid she was.  Fear always tended to
bring out the drill sergeant in her.  She'd told him that she
couldn't, wouldn't give him up, even if he lost his soul.  And
though he believed her, he could still see that she was terrified
that was actually going to happen.  So here she was, in full General
Buffy mode, trying to get the troops in order.

He took a breath, trying to calm himself, and raised his hand to
touch her cheek.  "We just got together, pet," he said, his voice
more gentle now.  "I don't know what's in store for us after this,
and I know that's bothering you, too.   I just want to spend every
last bleedin' moment before I go with you.  It'll give me something
to hold on to."  His hand slid behind her neck, bringing her close
to kiss her deeply before releasing her, flushed and
panting.   "What do you say, love?"

She gave him a shaky smile, and kissed him again.  "I say you've
finally managed to come up with a good plan."

********************

There were signs of life once again in the Summers house.  Spike
could hear the sound of people moving about above his head.  He
grabbed a jar of blood out of the fridge and poured it into a mug
before placing it in the microwave.  He had left Buffy to finish up
in the shower, though he doubted there was much hot water left at
this point.  The memory of how they'd used up all that hot water
made him smile.

"So, you're a vampire with a soul, too?  What is it, an epidemic?" 

It was the kid, Angel's kid.  Had to be, he had the attitude down
pat.  What was his name?

"Connor?  That your name, boy?"

The kid gazed back at him steadily, lounged casually against the
counter, his expression neutral. "Yeah, that's my name.  I used to
be called Stephen.  Angel named me Connor, though."

"Well, I used to be called William," said Spike, as the microwave
dinged.  He took out his mug and took a sip.  "What's in a name, eh?"

"So, you have some sort of connection to my father?"

Spike set his blood on the counter and leaned back against it,
opposite the boy.  "Unfortunately, yes."   Spike continued to size
him up, and Connor just stared back.

Finally, the boy broke the silence.  "What are you looking at?"  he
asked, eyes narrowing.

Spike shrugged.  "Just thinking that you lucked out, is all."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Spike, raising his mug again and looking at Connor
over the top of it, "that you look like your mother."  He took
another drink, and when he looked back at the boy, Connor was
*almost* smiling.  The kid got the joke.

"So, you knew my mother?"  For the first time Spike sensed something
other than casual indifference from Angel's son, though he tried
hard to conceal it.

"I did," Spike replied, "very well."

"Did you like her?"

Spike was a bit taken aback.  "Like Darla?  Hmm.  Don't know
if `like' is the right word.  Especially with us being all evil at
the time."  Connor's eyes dropped to the floor, and Spike suddenly
felt sorry that he'd said anything.  "I did respect the hell out of
her, though.  Don't know if she ever knew that, but I did."

The boy raised his eyes again.  "Really?"

"Very much.  Had the great and terrible Angelus wrapped around her
pinky finger, she did.  And a well manicured finger it was, too." 
Connor looked intrigued, so Spike kept talking.  "Your mother was a
beauty, had a lot of style.  Plus, she was smart.  Always knew what
she wanted, and she went after it.  Got to admire that in a woman."

"They tell me that she staked herself because of me.  So that I
could be born."  He stared down at his boots again.  "Because she
loved me.  Do you believe that?   I mean, she was evil.  You said so
yourself.  Would an evil thing do that?"  He raised his eyes, and
Spike saw a flicker of pain there.  What this kid must have gone
through.

Spike held Connor's eyes as he answered.  "I think that many
creatures, even vampires, can do amazing things for love."

Connor stared at him intensely for a moment, then pushed himself
away from the counter.  "Thanks," he said, as the back door slammed
behind him.

"Like walking in the rain and the snow, when there's now where to
go, and you feel like a part of you is dying..."

Spike looked around to see where this off-tune warbling was coming
from, and groaned.  "Now, that is a God awful tune.  Especially with
you singing it, Harris.  There isn't a dancing demon lurking about
again, is there?  Because I already told the green one.  I'm. Not.
Singing."   

Xander laughed.  "No, pal.  Not that I know of.  Just trying to
lighten things up after that low key little encounter."  He smiled
at his friend.  "It's what I do."

"I thought your job was providing the sarcasm, mate."

"Well, Cordelia's here now, and she's much better at it than I am." 
He took some orange juice out of the fridge, and a glass out of the
cupboard.  "And let me tell you, hearing it directed Angel's way? 
Much preferable to being the target of said sarcasm.  I can be
the `laugher,' not the `laughee.'"   

Dawn and Buffy wandered into the room then.  "Have you seen Connor?"
Dawn asked, grabbing an apple out of a bowl on the kitchen table. 
She was rather dressed up for a non-school day, and Spike looked
questioningly at Buffy, who rolled her eyes at him.

"Matter of fact, he just went outside," Spike said, nodding toward
the door. 

Dawn grabbed a second apple.  "I'm just going out to see if he's
hungry."

"Oh, I think he already ate, pet."  Spike winked at Buffy.

"He did?"  Her face fell. 

Spike felt a pang in his chest as she turned big, sad, puppy eyes on
him.  "But hey, he's a growin' boy.  They eat all the time. 
Probably still hungry."

She immediately brightened.  "Oh, right!  I'll just go see if he
wants an apple.  Or... something."  The sheath of hair that fell
over her face nearly concealed her deep flush as she scooted out the
door.

Buffy shook her head.  "I'm not even going to think about it right
now."  She was dressed in athletic pants and top, no make-up, her
hair up in a casual pony tail.

Spike grabbed her around the waist as she passed and pulled her to
him.  "God, you look gorgeous," he said, nibbling on her neck.

"Spike, please, there's people ...unh," she said, melting against
him.

Xander turned away in embarrassment, and he could feel the warmth of
his own blush beginning to creep up his neck and onto his face. "And
again when I'm trying to eat breakfast!  What is it with you people
and kitchens?"