“Does she know that Angel is here?” Doyle asked. He had glanced up from the newspaper that he was browsing through to stare at Cordelia.

The brunette flipped her hair out of her face and replied, “Duh? No. You and Angel BOTH said not to tell her he was here because she might not come.”

Doyle nodded. “Good. Is she bringing anyone with her?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t say. She just said she’d be here as soon as possible.” Cordy paced a few steps and then flopped in a tattered leather chair across from Doyle’s desk. “And I’m not going to be the one she’s pissed at because he’s here. I’m totally telling her that you guys made me.”

“Look, hot lips.” Doyle threw his paper down and stood up. “She’s the slayer. It’s her duty to help save the world and I don’t really give a rat’s ass if she gets mad or if she gets upset. We can’t handle this stuff alone. This is bigger than anything we’ve faced.”

Cordy’s eyebrow shot up in disbelief. “Bigger than that vampire mafia at Venice Beach?”

Doyle nodded.

Cordelia thought for a second and then asked, “Bigger than that pack of…whatever it was that we fought by the waterfront?”

Again, Doyle nodded.

“Bigger than that demon who sucked the beauty and life out of people and not to mention tried to rip me off and sell me a Vera Wang knock off? It’s impossible to find a good dress in this city. Especially in MY price range. Angel’s a stingy boss.”

Doyle glared.

When it became apparent that Cordy was trying to think of what was worse than paying almost full price for a designer impostor, he leaned forward and stared into her eyes. “Let me put it into perspective, toots. If we don’t get the slayer out here and get her to help us, the fact that you can’t find a dress is going to be the least of your worries. The world…”

“Will be sucked into hell?” The brunette yawned. “At least I won’t have to worry about this fund raiser that I still have no dress for.”

Before Doyle could reply, Angel walked into the room and said, “Is she here yet?”

“Not unless she has a jet.” Cordy stood up and walked past him, toward the back of the agency where their home was. “In a way, I hope she does assault me for not letting her know you’re here. At least then I can sue someone and buy a dress. I work for free practically. And look at the clock, Angel. I’m here after eight pm. I got here at 8 am and no, I don’t expect you to increase my SALARY. I hate being on a salary. I’d rather make hourly pay. Don’t think I don’t know that you save money this way.”

Angel rolled his eyes as she shut the door. “She hasn’t changed one bit in the past year.”

“You afraid Buffy has?” asked Doyle, putting his finger right on the pulse of the situation as usual.

“People change. You and I know that better than anyone. Time can…” Angel trailed off, lost in thought.

“Time can run out.” Answered the other man, in a thick Irish accent. “And if you don’t keep yourself focused and let her do her job then it will.”

**

Buffy shoved the last of her luggage into Spike’s trunk. Giles had agreed that since he wasn’t able to get off work, and the others had classes, that she and Spike could go help Cordelia now and the rest of the gang could come, if needed, at the weekend. It was already Wednesday and Buffy wasn’t worried at all since her classes were going well. So Cordy had seen demons. A lot of demons and felt like Buffy should investigate the situation in Los Angeles. Didn’t seem too hard.

“Cor, Slayer. Are you sure you brought enough?” Spike took one look at the over stuffed trunk and slammed it, tossing his lone duffel bag into the backseat.

“Just because packing to you means tossing your only other jeans into a wrinkled sack it doesn’t mean I have to pack that way.” She started around the car and paused, staring at him over the top. “Want me to drive?”

“Not just no, pet. But HELL NO.” He grinned devilishly and got into the driver’s seat.

Buffy sighed and plopped down in the passenger’s seat. “Fine. But don’t blame me if YOU get another ticket.”

“Do I have to remind you that I got the last ticket because of your incessant whining that you were going to be late for that trashy thing you called a play?”

“It was NOT trashy and I enjoyed it. It was a *good* play.”

“Well, if you call naked people traipsing all over the stage throwing handfuls of paint at each other a good play then I suppose you would enjoy it.” Spike shrugged and started the engine.

“Spike.” Buffy shook her head and glared at him. “I realize that to you…culture is Billy Idol and his artistic lip curve while singing the same line repeatedly, but to SOME people culture is expressed in so many other ways. That play was a worldly experience.”

“Well, I’ll buy a can of paint and toss it at you the next time you’re whining about being stuck in Sunnydale. That should give you a culture shock and a piece of the world.”

Buffy flipped the radio on. “I don’t know why I bother with you.”

“Bother with me? You’re stuck with me. I’m stuck with you.” Spike smiled innocently and patted her leg. “Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“For who?” She grinned back, even though she could tell that she had walked into his trap.

“For you of course. You get to work with me.” He hummed along to the radio and winked at her.

Buffy was still smiling as they pulled away from the curb in front of her house and waved at Joyce and Giles. No, working with Spike wasn’t that bad at all. As a matter of fact, it had been her salvation. After Angel had left her she started a slow downward spiral that had almost cost her life one night. Spike had arrived just in the nick of time, saved her and then for the next few weeks, proceeded to shake some sense into her.

It wasn’t romantic between them. But every single time Spike touched her when they were slaying, or brushed her hair out of her face when she cried or just got near enough for her to see the dark blue of his eyes completely, she wanted it to be romantic. She wanted it with all her heart and soul. Listening to the music on the radio she lost herself.

~you're toast and jam
and you're cotton candy
you're double rainbows
beside a setting sun
you're wood burnin' outside
there's a fire growin'
you're sweet as green apples
you must be the one~
 

He was her friend. He probably wouldn’t even be willing to call it that but she did. She cared about him a great deal and so did her mom. The rest of the gang had come around slowly, Willow of course, accepting him just because Buffy did, but Giles and Xander weren’t as trusting. Spike had proven himself though and he was accepted for almost a year now.

No one really knew why he had shown back up in town. No one wanted to even begin to figure out what would possess an evil and respected vampire to suddenly ally himself with the enemy… but no one was sorry he did.

“Anyway,” Spike was saying, pulling Buffy from her thoughts. “I said, ‘Bloody hell, Willy, do you think I’m that stupid?’ and the git had the balls to say ‘yeah.’ Can you believe that?”

Buffy had completely missed the whole first part of the story so she simply said, “And what did you do?”

“Have you seen him recently?” The blond wiggled his brows and glanced at the Slayer.

“YOU KILLED WILLY?” Buffy screeched. “Spike, he’s like…he’s…”

“No, I didn’t kill the wanker.” Spike growled. “I just showed him that stupid people can come up with brilliant ideas.”

“You locked him in his wine cellar and left him there for a few days?” Buffy asked knowingly.

Spike growled again and stared at the road. “Someone told you?”

“No, stupid. But you have a fetish with locking people up.”

“I’m going to yank your three hundred bags out of the trunk and lock you in there if you keep on.”

“Promises, promises.” Buffy yawned and stretched. “I’m tired.”

The vampire opened his arm and motioned for Buffy to lean against him. She did, settling her body against his side and pulling her feet into the seat so she was comfortable. She probably could have been more comfortable in the backseat but she wasn’t going to say so. Right where she was made her happier than she’d been all week. Make that all year.

“You make a nice pillow.” She snuggled further against him, inhaling the scent that she knew so well. Smoke and just a hint of some masculine cologne that Buffy had never smelled on anyone else. It was a wonderful scent.

He chuckled and squeezed her affectionately, careful to keep a tight reign on his emotions. “Let’s see now. You’ve told me I have a nice shoulder to cry on, nice hands for massaging and make a nice prop when you get a rock in your shoe. Now I’m a nice pillow? You are just too kind to me.”

“That’s what I think too.” She said through another yawn.

“Did you remember to pack your medication?” Spike asked casually, before she could drift off. Her medication was even more necessary than his bagged blood.

“Of course. My mom chased me around the house with it and made she it was firmly in my purse.” She closed her eyes and didn’t feel anything except a degree of comfort she never knew existed. And didn’t exist outside his arms.

~you bring me to the heart of a golden man
you bring me to the natural truth
you take me to a solid hollow
and keep me sailing this ocean of youth~
 

He smiled when he heard her breathing deepen and felt her sag further against him. He really did like her. More than like. He was infatuated with every last detail of her. At first, he hadn’t been thrilled because she was so different and had none of the fire he had recalled but more and more he found himself grateful every day that he had found her when he did. Not just for her sake, but because he would have died without her.

Something he had never bothered telling any of them was the fact that he had come to Sunnydale to kill Angel and then himself. But that night he arrived and found the broken Slayer inside the mansion, crying like her entire world had been torn out from under her and about to be murdered by a vampire…he helped her. Because it made his life mean something again. Sure, it meant that he was helping his sworn enemy but he didn't have anyone else to help and he wanted to do something. He made it his mission to pull her, and himself, out of the bowels of the hell they were in. It was a long, slow and incredibly painful process for the both of them but in the end, they had developed a co-dependency on one another that made the both of them better off.

Now he lived for the moments like this. Being with her, near her without anything but who they were to stop them from admitting what he knew they both felt. He would never tell her that he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and make love to her and be with her forever. It was because of who he was and what he was. It was because of what she had already been through with a vampire lover.

He cared far too much to do that to her again.

So this was just fine with him. Stolen moments that seemed so innocent to the casual observer, yet meant the world to a lonely vampire who only saw the sunrise in a tiny Slayer’s hazel eyes.

And Los Angeles, her home town, loomed ahead of them with the promise of adventure and hope.

~lead me to the holy water
introduce me to the place you are from
wherever you go you know I will follow
so take me there and I will come
 

be my island
in crowds of faces
my oasis
be there~
 

**

Cordy threw her hands up in the air when Doyle asked her to go to the deli down the road and bring them all some dinner. Thatcher, the owner of the deli, knew about Angel’s special requirements and always saved blood from the roast beef. Grumbling, Cordy dug through the petty cash box. “Why can’t I use money from this to buy a dress for the fund raiser?”

“If you stayed out of that we wouldn’t need a fund raiser.” Doyle shrugged.

“Angel has more money than he lets on.” Cordy argued, shoving a twenty into her empty wallet.

Angel ran a hand over his head and exhaled loudly, even though he didn’t need too. “For the millionth time, Cordelia. After I pay rent on this huge building, where we work and live by the way, and buy supplies and advertise and do what I can to feed hungry children in Somalia I don’t have anything left over.”

“Somalia?” Cordy chirped. “You’ll feed strangers but you’ll let me starve and live in a creaky old warehouse with the two of YOU?”

“You don’t look like you’re starving.” Doyle stated, indifferently.

“I LOOK FAT!?” The girl rushed to the floor length mirror and turned from side to side. “Oh God. I do look fat. I can’t eat dinner. I can’t go to this fund raiser. I can’t even breathe!”

Angel cast Doyle a now-look-what-you-did-look before he stood up and pushed Cordelia out the door. “And make sure that Thatcher knows I’ll need enough for tomorrow too. I doubt I’ll have time to stop once this all starts.”

“Be glad I need the exercise or I wouldn’t walk that far.” Cordy snapped.

Angel contemplated locking the door and not letting her back in but instead he shut it and walked toward his desk in the corner. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“Maybe not.” Doyle shrugged. “If this Slayer is as good as you say then she might want to handle it herself and leave before morning.”

“She is not handling it herself, Doyle.” Angel rifled through a few papers and then crumpled them up, throwing them into a wastebasket furiously. “I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this. I can’t see her and act like it’s just another day at the office. I love her. I always will.”

“Then help her. Just don’t fuck it up. This is huge, Angel. Huge.”

Angel didn't need to be told. In all his years on earth, while good or evil, this was something he feared and knew that it was within reach at the moment. Nothing had prepared him for unearthing what was to come without Buffy's help. He still couldn't believe it. Giles should have known, would have known, if the council hadn't fired him. He was willingly putting Buffy in danger and that's how huge it was..

And he knew that he was in danger too. Danger of pulling her into his arms, losing himself in her love and letting his feelings lead his actions.

No, he didn't need to be told how huge it was. It was out of his hands.

And that wasn't okay.

**

Cordelia stumbled under the load of two sandwiches and several bags of blood. It wasn’t heavy but it was heavy enough to make her feel used. How had Cordelia Chase, Queen C of Sunnydale High School, become an office worker who usually wore jeans to work and catered to two demons non-stop? Why was she living in the same building as them and devoting so much time to helping others? “Because you’re poor and pathetic and so much like Xander Harris.” She answered herself aloud.

Buffy saw her old friend walking down the street and leaned out the window of Spike’s car. “Cordy! Hey!”

Cordy smiled, really smiled, glad to see a familiar face after such a long time of being alone. “BUFFY!”

Spike stopped the car and Buffy shot out of it. Cordy quickly sat her bag on the hood and hugged the Slayer. “Oh my God, it’s so good to see you.”

Buffy hugged her just as tightly and then pulled back. “You look great.”

Cordy shook her head in disbelief. “No, you look great, Buffy. Your hair is so long and look at your tan! Is that a Vera Wang dress?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Great.” Cordy narrowed her eyes and glanced at the detective agency behind her. “You, a college student, can afford a Vera Wang but I work my ass off and can’t.”

“It was a gift.” Buffy smiled and used her thumb to point behind her at Spike, who had gotten out of the car and was smiling at their reunion.

“Hello.” Cordelia nudged Buffy and nodded with approval. “He’s fine as hell.”

“We’re just friends.” The blond girl whispered.

Cordy was looking at Spike again, this time intently. “Don’t I know him?”

Doyle poked his head out the door and said, “Delia, I’m starving in here!”

“Shit.” Turning quickly, Cordy motioned for Buffy to follow her and grabbed the bags of food. “I hate my life.”

Spike came around the car and grabbed Buffy before she could follow Cordelia. “I’ll let you two catch up, luv. I’m going to see about a hotel.”

“Jacuzzi?” Buffy almost drooled. “I’m going to make the most of this trip.”

“One jacuzzi coming up.” Spike winked and quickly walked down the street.

Buffy grinned and followed the girl into the old warehouse. She was surprised to find that it didn’t look half bad on the inside. A little dark for her tastes but definitely not as bad as the outside. There were three desks in the open area. One sat right in the middle of the room and the two others were in opposite corners facing each other. The room was quite large, with framed paintings hung around the bricked walls and several tall green plants. Buffy imagined Cordelia was responsible for that. The furniture was worn and the carpet had seen better days but it wasn’t an unpleasant room. Buffy wasn’t uncomfortable.

“So, you’re the Slayer.” Doyle looked her up and down. “You sure are small.”

Buffy looked at Cordelia in shock. “You told him I was the Slayer?”

“No.” Cordelia visibly shrunk against her desk.

“Then who did?” Snapped the angry Slayer.

“I did.” Came a soft reply from behind her.

Buffy turned and gasped. “Angel.”

Angel stepped out of the shadows and looked her up and down. She was thin. Far too thin but she was even more beautiful than he had allowed himself to remember. Her hair had almost doubled in length. It fell in soft blond waves almost to her waist and her skin was tanned and shining. Her small frame was encased in a pale blue sleeveless mini dress with matching sandals. She was breathtaking. “Hello, Buffy.”

“What’s going on?” Buffy looked from Angel back to Cordy. “What are you trying to do, Cordy?”

“She’s trying to save the world.” Doyle answered while Cordy looked upset and even sorry for Buffy.

“Who the hell are you?” she snapped, glaring at the man. “What is this all about?”

“There’s something happening here, lassie.” Replied Doyle, hoping his Irish luck would keep her from ripping into him. “I don’t think we’re equipped to handle it and such and you are.”

“Well, I’m not the Slayer anymore.” Buffy replied tartly. “I quit. I don’t work for the council and they don’t bother me. I don’t have any obligation here.”

She turned and headed for the door but Angel caught her arm and pulled her to face him. “Buffy, we wouldn’t have asked if it was a matter of life and death. The council isn’t asking. If we don’t work together and stop this then…”

“Let me go.” Buffy tugged her arm but Angel held on. It felt as though the room was beginning to close in on her and her heart was pounding so hard she felt it in her ears. An overwhelming fear was engulfing her and she didn't know how to stop it.

“Please, listen to me.” Angel begged, clinging to both of her arms now. “I know this is…”

“ What do you know?” Buffy shouted, then started to cry and throw limp arms punches at his face. She shouted at him, telling him to leave her alone and to let her leave all the while trying to get a grip on the panic that was seizing her.

Spike heard her and dropped the ice cream he had been licking as he headed back to the agency. He yanked the door open and morphed the second he saw Angel gripping Buffy and her sobbing, trying to break free. “Let her go, Angel.” He shouted.

“Spike?” Angel’s eyes narrowed as his face morphed as well..

“Spike!” Buffy yanked loose and flung herself at the blond vampire, clinging to him. She only felt safe with him. Only him.

Spike wrapped his arms around her protectively and glared at Angel over the top of her head. “What the hell are you doing?”

Cordy thought for several seconds and tossed in her two cents. “SPIKE! I knew I recognized you. From Halloween! I just thought you were some guy dressed as Billy Idol but you’re SPIKE!” Cordy pulled her heel off and threw it at the man, who batted it away but kept his grip on Buffy. “My life went down hill because of you, Mister. I got impaled AND Willow made out with my boyfriend.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Spike told the girl and pointed at Buffy. “Look at what you’ve done to her!”

“I want to leave.” Buffy sobbed, her face still buried in the front of Spike’s red shirt. “Please, Spike?”

“Yeah, baby. We’re leaving.” He glared around the room, as if daring anyone to object.

They all did. Angel began speaking but Doyle interrupted. “Hello William.”

Spike squinted and finally recognized the man. “Doyle?”

“If you take her and leave then you’ll be the cause of a greater hell than you can imagine right here on earth. We do what we can here to save people from themselves and we have been known to slay a few demons that got in the way but this isn’t something we can attempt to set straight. It’s going to take a Slayer and only a Slayer will do.” The man walked around his desk and paused, looking at the shaking girl in Spike’s arms. “I apologize, Buffy, for the pretense in which you were brought here, but all your loved ones and you yourself are in danger. Please help us?”

Spike didn’t trust many things in his unlife but he trusted Doyle. He had learned the hard way about human nature and demon nature and he knew that the man was telling the truth. Doyle was a special demon, one who wanted to spend their life making amends. Not one that was forced to, like Angel, but one who did it because they were strong willed enough inside to defeat the demonic urges without the aid of a pesky soul. “Buffy, maybe we should listen to them.” Spike urged.

Buffy pulled away and glared at him with disbelief. “You too?”

“I don’t agree with how they got you here, baby, but they may have had their reasons. It can’t hurt to hear them out, can it?” He moved to take her hand to reassure her but she yanked away. “Slayer, for the love of…”

“I’m leaving.” Buffy announced, unable to control the wave of anxiety that threatened to drown her. With a loud sob, she turned and pushed through the door. Doyle picked up his sandwich and threw it against the wall and Cordy sat at her desk, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“I’ll go after her.” Angel said softly.

“Like hell you will. I’LL go after her and you can loom in the corners.” Spike spun on his heel and rushed out onto the sidewalk. Looking up and down both ways for her. “Buffy?”

“What?” she replied from her slouching position in his car, where she was digging through her purse nervously.

Relieved, he opened the door since he couldn’t see through the blackened windows and knelt beside her. “Oh, I thought you had run off.”

“I can’t find it!” She cried, tossing her purse into the floorboard and clutching her chest. Her breathing was coming in short ragged gasps and Spike could feel the panic attack coming on. He’d witnessed several, just none on the past few months.

“Your medicine?” He asked, moving past her to get her purse.

Buffy nodded, unable to speak now. He shook his head sadly, wondering if Angel knew what he had done to her to begin with, and dug through her purse himself. He found the bottle, hidden underneath a stack of tissue and handed it to her. Swearing silently, he took it back from her when he realized her hands were shaking too badly too open it and she didn’t have anything to wash it down with anyway.

He lifted her, able to tell that by now the pain in her chest was unbearable and she’d begin to hyperventilate any moment. He could also hear the pounding of her heart and was afraid she was going to have a heart attack. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done to carry her back into the detective agency in her current state but she needed some water and to stretch out if there was any help at all for her this time. It was bad and Spike was very concerned.

Angel met him halfway, staring down at Buffy. Spike pushed past him and put her on a decrepit couch in the corner. “Get me some water.”

Cordy rushed to comply and Spike looked around quickly, grabbing a paper bag off the table and dumping the containers of blood out. He held it in his hand, listening to Buffy’s breathing and when the time came, he held it up to her face for her. “That’s it, love. Just breathe.” She struggled to move the bag but he held it firm. “Stop it, Buffy.”

And to everyone’s shock, she did.

Finally, her breathing was semi-normal and Spike pulled a prescription bottle from his duster, took the water from Cordelia and gave her a pill. Buffy swallowed it, drank several gulps from the glass and handed it back to Spike. He smiled gently as he sat it on the floor. “That was a rough one, huh baby?”

Not saying anything, Buffy nodded slowly and closed her eyes. Spike moved beside her on the sofa and put an arm around her, massaging her back, knowing instinctively that she would have a backache from the tension. “I think it would probably be better to discuss this tomorrow.”

“No.” Buffy’s voice was raspy as she spoke and her hands were shaking but she spoke with conviction. “We’re here. Let’s find out why.”

Doyle looked at Angel. He had never seen the man look more shaken. The woman he was madly in love with was apparently not well and was sitting in the arms of a man Angel couldn’t stand. He didn’t know if anything could get worse.

“Fine.” Cordy shrugged. “I’ll explain.”

That was worse. Doyle shook his head and said, “No. I’ll do it.”

Angel nodded at the man and he continued. “Well, there are some vampires in town. They know stuff. Stuff that most vampires don’t know. We can’t be sure but we put the place under surveillance and Angel’s pretty sure that one of the vampires is someone from the council.”

“Wesley.” Cordy said, in a sad voice, then stifled a sob. “It was Wesley. I saw him too. He’s a vampire and we could have been…”

“Anyway,” Doyle flashed her an evil look. “from what we can deduce he had several volumes of books with him at the time that he was vamped.”

Angel interrupted. “We think he was turned on his way to the airport, after he was released from the hospital.”

Buffy nodded and looked back at Doyle. “They know stuff? What stuff?”

“Rituals. Spells. These books, they have information about you, about other Slayers and most of all…”

“What, mate? Bloody hell, this isn’t a soap opera. Stop pausing.” Spike growled.

“We have an informant. Sort of like Willy.” Angel stated. “He told us that Wesley was in there bragging that they are about to ‘create’ a new master vampire.”

“Create?” Buffy asked, forcing herself to get it back together. “And how does one create a master? I thought they just WERE.”

“They’re hunting for a strong vampire.”

“To dub with a magic sword?” Buffy said sarcastically.

“No. To kill and mix the dust with the dust of several other strong vampires.” Doyle said.

“Oh, of course.” The slayer shrugged. “I JUST studied that in my current affairs class.”

“This is serious, Buffy.” Cordy said. “You remember that other master guy. He killed you.”

Shrugging, Buffy stood on shaky legs. “Where is Wesley?”

“Surely you can’t mean to look tonight, Slayer.” Spike stood beside her, watching her closely.

“Well, what the hell else am I here for?” She snapped.

Grinning, Spike declared. “A hotel with a jacuzzi. And I found one.”

“You can stay here.” Angel said quickly, not liking the look on Spike’s face or what he was implying. “There’s plenty of room.”

“What!?” Yelled Cordy. “Yeah, Angel. There’s so much extra room here with the three of us already living together and working together. As a matter of fact why don’t I just go outside and hold up a sign that says ‘space for rent’. Notice I didn’t say ROOM. We lack room.”

Spike was ecstatic that Angel had to work and live with this girl. “The hotel is fine.”

“But…” Angel looked at Buffy again. “Buffy, what are you doing with Spike?”

Buffy grinned then. “Sitting in a jacuzzi until I prune hopefully.”

Spike nodded emphatically. “For starters.”

Buffy didn’t say anything to contradict him. She didn’t let on that they were just friends. She followed his lead. “No, we’ll save the jacuzzi for last.”

“This time.” Spike grinned, still relishing the look on Angel’s face.

“So tomorrow then?” Doyle asked, anxious to get rid of them so Angel could calm down, the Slayer could calm down and he could make the necessary arrangements for the weapons they would need.

“What time?” Buffy asked.

“Noon?” Cordy smiled, thinking that maybe they could have lunch and talk about stuff. Xander stuff.

“Not noon.” Spike shook his head, staring toward his sire. “She’ll be here when I can come with her.”

“Yet another reason you should stay here.” Angel said, wanting to get a chance with Buffy alone so he could ask her what the hell she was thinking. “This entire building is sunproofed.”

“We’ll be fine.” Sneered the blond vampire.

Cordelia shook her head as the couple walked past her out the door and said, “My God. I hope his soul is permanent.”

Angel’s eyes widened, realizing the implications and rushed to the phone. “I’m calling Giles!”

“Poor man.” Sighed Doyle, knowing full well that a game of twenty questions was about to start and when Angel got started he could go on and on.

**

Spike looked at Buffy who had curled into the passenger seat with concern. His gut was wound tight and he was terrified that she was about to pull into herself the way she had done a year earlier. Of course, he knew that if she did, he would stay and pull her back again but there was no part of him that longed to do that. They had reached where they were together and if she left him now…

“Buffy, the room I got is huge. It’s a suite and you’re going to love it.” Spike forced himself to smile, even though he wanted to let his face change, stop the car and tear his sire apart.

Buffy nodded at him but didn’t say a word. Her gaze was fixed to the dashboard and her fingers danced dumbly over the hem of her skirt, bunching and twisting it. Agonizing thoughts were playing through her head over and over. She was trying to figure out why the fates always threw a curve ball when the bases were already loaded and she was only prepared to bunt.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, staring at the road. He moved his hand to take hers and squeezed it, bringing it to his lips.

When his lips brushed her hand, she was pulled from her revelry and looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry! For what?” He exclaimed.

Tears welled up in her big, sad eyes and she shuddered as she spoke. “For freaking out back there. For being a basket case. For making you do so much for me.”

He parked in front of the hotel and shook his head. “You are not a basket case. I like when you freak out because you’re so damn cute and you don’t MAKE me do anything. I do it because I want to.”

“What?” Buffy snorted through her tears. “You want to help someone who’s so…”

“Perfect, Slayer.” He finished before she could, not liking the direction of this conversation. Convincing her why he wanted to help her would lead to over sharing, which would lead to admissions which would lead to guilt later which would make him cranky and he didn’t, no-couldn’t, be cranky with her now. “We’re here.”

She looked out the window and gasped. The hotel that was spread before them was so tall she couldn’t see the top from her position in the vehicle. Several young men stood ready to take their luggage with racks and a valet was moving to take Spike’s keys. “This is so beautiful, Spike. But you didn’ t have to get something so expensive.”

“I have this motto.” He grinned as he took her hand and pulled her out of his side of the car.

“What motto?” She had to grin back because he was still holding her hand even as they headed into the large foyer.

“Make Buffy happy, you’ll live longer.” He chuckled and she popped him on the arm. Things were going to be okay.

**

Giles sighed as Angel asked the same question for the hundredth time. “Why is she with Spike though?”

“As I said earlier, Angel, Spike came back to Sunnydale, saved her life and then stayed when it was apparent that Buffy needed help.” The man sipped his coffee, glanced at the clock, and wondered how much caffeine he would need to make it through the next day.

“Why would Buffy need help?” Angel had already asked that too.

“I really feel that you should discuss this with Buffy.” Giles suggested. Buffy’s private life was her own and he wasn’t ready to face her wraith if he said too much.

The vampire couldn’t hide the bite in his voice. “I would have asked her, Giles, but she was too busy breathing into a paper bag and shoving pills down her throat to offer me much explanation.”

“She had a panic attack?!” Giles stood so he could at least pace off his own anxiety. “Was Spike with her?”

“Yes, he was with her. Of course he was with her. Why is he with her?” Angel shook his head and looked at Doyle. “And it was a panic attack?”

“Yes. She began having them right after you left and had to be put on medication.” Giles hoped that Buffy wouldn’t mind that he had shared that. At this point, he felt that any morsel he offered would be enough to get Angel off the phone.

“It’s my fault?” Angel asked it as a question but said it as an admission of guilt.

Sighing, Giles sat back on his sofa and flopped back against the cushions. “No offense, Angel, but I really don’t have the time to discuss this. I have an early morning and I’m tired.”

“I’m sorry.” The other man said sadly. “I’m just worried about her.”

“Well, if Spike is with her, I’m not worried.”

Angel shook his head again. “I just can’t comprehend why you would allow her to be with him.”

“I don’t allow her to be with him. She is an adult and the only purpose I serve to her now is as a mentor and sometime confidante when she gives me the honor.” Giles thought for several seconds and added. “But if she wasn’t with him willingly I would nudge her a great deal in his direction because I trust him and the way he handles her.”

“She doesn’t need to be handled!” Angel shouted, causing Cordy to rush back into the office wearing fuzzy slippers and Doyle to stand up. “He better not lay a hand on her because…”

“I must go now.” Giles was getting angry and when he got angry he didn’t like the thoughts that went through his mind.

“Please, Giles…” Angel began again.

“No. Really, I must go. I have to ask that you just believe me when I say that she’s with the best person for what she needs right now and I trust him. That should be enough for you to get past your reservations.”

“Don’t you want to know why we called her here?” Angel realized that he hadn’t bothered to let the man know what was happening.

Giles looked back at the clock, resigning himself to the fact that the sun would rise and set again before he slept, and made himself comfortable. “Go ahead then.”

Angel launched into the story of his time in Los Angeles and soon, sleep was the last thing on Giles’s mind.

**

“Ready?” Spike had his hand over Buffy’s eyes as he opened the door. He had left very specific orders with the receptionist as to how he wanted things when they came in.

“So ready.” Buffy nodded. She gasped when Spike moved his hand away and stared around the room. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

And it was. The main area had two plush leather sofas that faced one another. A large glass table sat between them with a large bouquet of fresh flowers in the middle. To the right, tucked neatly into a corner, was a bar with upside down glasses hanging from an overhead wooden holder. All the woodwork in the room was a dark, glossy mahogany. Two doors opened on either side and as Buffy padded across the thick beige carpet toward the one on the right, she noticed a large kitchen off to the side.

Spike followed her into a large bedroom with a four poster bed. Grinning he watched as she pulled the sheer netting that hung from the posts back and admired the flowery linens. He looked past her, at the double doors the opened onto the balcony and walked around her. He felt her behind him and stepped aside so she could see the hot tub where it sat bubbling, sending a warm steam into the cool night. “Look inviting?”

“Oh yeah.” Buffy nodded happily and took Spike’s hand, squeezing it. “Thank you. Not just for this, but for everything. For the last year.”

“No.” He faced her, pushing a long lock of hair away from her face. “Thank you.”

For the briefest moment, she felt like he was going to kiss her. As they stood facing one another, nothing between them but the mist of the jacuzzi and the sounds of the city below them, the Slayer braced herself. Heat flooded through her body, desire coursed through her veins and a longing that she never knew raced through the core of her body.

Spike sensed the increase of her heartbeat. He could tell by how flushed she was that she was wanting more than a hot tub and a good nights sleep. Her eyes were on his lips, as if willing him to taste hers and he doubted she even realized that her thumb was trailing along the back of his hand slowly and sensuously. All his nerve endings seem to wind up there, causing the slightest movement to intensify. He had to do something. “Don’t you want to see the rest of the suite?”

She put a mask over the disappointment that question caused. She smiled brightly and nodded. “I’d love to. Can’t go bumping my shins in the middle of the night so I better get used to it.”

Still holding her hand, he led her back through and they explored their temporary surroundings. Buffy was impressed with how much attention had been paid to minor details and they both decided that the room was perfect. After they spent some time making sure it was sun-proof, Spike glanced at the clock. “It’s late. Do you want to sleep or…”

“Hot tub!” Buffy looked at him as though it were the strangest thing he’d ever asked. “What have I talked about all day?”

Spike had hoped she would decide to go to bed because the thought of her sitting on the deck, warm water soaking her skin and wetting the ends of her hair drove him mad with desire. And to top it off, he didn’t know how to suggest that he not get in with her and not hurt her feelings.

“You go ahead and I’ll be there as soon as I find my bathing suit.” Buffy walked toward her luggage.

“I don’t have a suit. Maybe I should..”

“Wear your boxers.” She shrugged.

“Right.” Rolling his eyes, he bit back the urge to tell her that women who knew everything were annoying.

A few minutes later, he found himself stepping into the bubbling water and leaning against one of the pillows. He had to admit, it felt remarkable and as high up as they were, none of the city lights interfered with seeing the stars. He was searching for the little dipper when he heard soft music start playing and saw Buffy step through the sliding glass doors.

~ Just when I believed I couldn't ever want for more
This ever changing world pushes me through another door
I saw you smile and my mind could not erase
The beauty of your face
Just for a while,
Won't you let me shelter you~
 

Buffy didn’t say a word. She couldn’t have said a word if she had to. Spike sat waiting for her with water droplets running down his smooth muscular chest. Both arms were draped over the sides of the tub and his steely gaze was fixed to her with interest. Her hands shook as she removed her robe and kicked her sandals off.

~Hold on to the night
Hold on to the memory
I wish that I could give you something more,
That I could be yours~
 

He was reminded then of how lucky he was not to have to breathe. His throat constricted when he saw her two piece bikini that left nothing to his imagination. It was black, or possibly it was midnight blue, but all he could see was the swell of her breasts, barely covered by the fabric. His eyes roamed lower as she folded her robe and bent over, putting it into a chair. Spike licked his lips and shifted uncomfortably, thankful he wasn’t wearing his tight jeans, as she stepped into the tub. He wanted to get out and jump off the balcony and not care until he hit the ground that he had been on the eleventh floor with a fully functioning dick and a girl he wanted to make love to slowly all night long.

~How do we explain something that took us by surprise
Promises in vain
Love that is real, but in disguise
What happens now
Do we break another rule, let our lovers play the fool?
I don't know how to stop feeling this way~

Buffy wasn’t going to make it. He was beautiful. She sighed, not just from the warm water lapping at her skin but because he had made her so content. And now so completely on edge because the urge to move into his arms and press her lips to his was almost palpable.

~Hold on to the night
Hold on the memory
If only I could give you more...~

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He had too. If he looked at her for one more second he would admit every single thought that he had entertained during the last year and he would be forced to confess what he felt. He couldn’t possibly do that. She deserved better than what he had to offer. Buffy deserved someone who was so different than Angel that there was no comparison, ever. Only a mortal could be that person. It wasn’t fair to her and it wasn’t fair to him. But he wanted it.

~ Well, I think that I've been true to everybody else but me
And the way I feel about you makes my heart long to be free
Every time I look into your eyes I'm helplessly aware
That the someone I've been searching for is right there~

With his eyes closed, Buffy thought he looked almost boyish, but she realized that the firm masculinity of his chest contradicted that completely. The water bubbled, lapping across his nipples and she found her eyes drawn there, imagining herself spraying hot kisses along his collarbone and stopping there. She closed her own eyes but realized that in her mind’s eye the image was even more appealing. When she looked again, he was looking at her and she smiled.

“This is nice.” Spike mumbled, needing to break the silence.

~Hold on to the night
Hold on to the memory
I wish that I could give you more....~

“Very nice.” Buffy nodded. Then she silently added, ‘If being tortured is nice.’ Her brows knitted as she realized that SOME people found torture very nice and sexual and hmmm…

Spike watched her face go from one of contentment to one of concentration and glee. “What?”

“Huh?” She jumped a little and her eyes widened, afraid that he had read her mind and knew what she was thinking about doing to him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Splashing you.”

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll drown you if you do.”

She scooped a handful of water and tossed it into his face. “Drown me.”

He was on his knees at once and she joined him, both trying to dunk the other. He got the upper hand and soaked her, holding her down for several seconds before he pulled her back up. “Now apologize.”

“No.” She sputtered, wrestling with him through her giggles.

This time he let her get the upper hand and she pinned him under the water. When she pulled him back out she found herself straddling his waist and his hands on her hips. She laid her hands on his arms and quietly said, “We…we should get some sleep, right? The sun…”

Spike stared off at the horizon, not realizing how much time had gone by. The first eager shades of orange were creeping up over the city. He nodded and pulled his hands away. She stood, pausing briefly, leaving her pelvic area at his face level, then stepped from the tub. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

He couldn’t have answered if he had to. The sight of the small triangle of cloth between her legs a few mere inches from his face removed all his speaking skills. A nod was all he could muster and he stood, shaking with desire he followed her through the bedroom.

He sat on the sofa while he waited for her to change so he could say goodnight. After ten minutes, he knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open. She was sprawled back on the bed, wearing a RugRats nightgown and big fluffy socks. Spike walked to the edge of the bed, looking down at her. Her hair had almost dried and she looked so peaceful. Gently, careful not to wake her, he lifted her so he could pull back the cover and then tucked her in the bed. Satisfied she wouldn’t get cold, he ran his hand over her cheek and kissed her temple, lingering long enough to inhale her scent.

Distance. He needed to put distance between them. It wasn’t like she hadn’t slept at his house before. They had done this a million times. He moved quickly, willing his feet back across the living room and into the other bedroom. He yanked off his wet boxers and tossed them on the floor and burrowed himself in the cover, trying to get away from everything he wanted. Which was only Buffy.

Was wanting and having one thing so bad? He wondered. Yes, he decided that it definitely was so bad. He begged his erection to go away, tried to visualize gross things and nasty hookers. Nothing helped. Finally, he thought about how angry he was at Angel and it went away almost instantly..

The sun was bright by the time he dozed.

**

Buffy awoke with a start and said, “Spike?”

He wasn’t there, wasn’t in the room and she felt a rush of fear. She leaped from the bed and headed toward the other room. As she opened his door and saw the lump beneath the cover, she relaxed, and stepped inside. Trying not to wake him, she slid in next to him and pressed herself against his cool skin.

Spike rolled to face her and opened his eyes, still groggy. “Are you okay?”

When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest she answered. “I am now.”

The vampire was very, very glad that someone was okay. He certainly wasn’t. He rattled every cuss word he could think of through his head as his arousal grew and grew. And this time, even thoughts of killing Angel didn’t make it go away.

Hold Onto Me Part Two

Buffy stirred and sat up, looking around for Spike. A glance at the windows told her that it was late afternoon and she cursed herself for sleeping so late. She had wanted to get up, go talk to Cordy and be back before he awoke so he wouldn’t know. Something about best laid plans…

She shoved the cover back and walked into the living room. He sat on the couch, dressed in leather pants and nothing else, laughing at something on the television. When he saw her he flipped it off and stood. “Hey.”

“Ever the gentleman.” Buffy smiled, surprised yet again that this was SPIKE. “You can sit back down though because I’m going to get a shower and get ready. Hopefully we can get everything taken care of tonight.”

Nodding, he handed her a menu and said, “Room service? I’ll call and order while you’re in the shower.”

“So sweet.” She mumbled, staring at the menu. She decided to stick with something light and chose a salad.

“A salad?” Spike frowned. “You’re a human being. Why would you eat something like that?”

“What?” Buffy grinned. “You’re suddenly a big expert on what humans eat?”

“I know what is and isn’t healthy.” He took the menu and stared at it. “How about a steak?”

“I have a stake.”

“Slayer, you’re eating more than a salad.” He was still staring intently at the menu. “Go on. I’ll get you something.”

“I’m suddenly terrified.” Buffy eyed the menu over his shoulder. “Nothing greasy! I don’t need zits because I have that oral presentation in psychology class next week and nothing really starchy because…”

“Get out!” He pointed toward her bedroom and she muttered several lewd comments under her breath but complied.

Grinning, he watched her shoot him a dirty look and shut the door. He liked making decisions for her. Maybe it was his domineering side but whatever it was felt nice. He wondered why he had such a soft spot for needy women as he flipped through the menu. It was like he needed to be taking care of someone to be whole. He wanted to chalk it up to the fact that he had been driven to be a doctor when Angel changed him…a surgeon perhaps. Which probably explained his fascination with tearing people apart with railroad spikes. He just wanted to see how they worked.

Grinning at the good old days, he picked up the phone and ordered her a medium well stake, baked potato and a vegetable medley. He was going to ask for a special desert but the woman on the phone cut him off. “Rude Bitch.”

Thinking about his past and being angered by the woman left him hoping the night would bring an abundance of violence.

Or maybe Angel could trip and fall into his stake.

A man had nothing if he didn’t have hope.

**

Cordelia zipped her black jeans and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Adjusting her dark blue shirt, she sighed. She had looked positively frumpy next to Buffy the previous day and if Buffy wore another Vera Wang she would offer herself as a sacrifice to get out of the Slayer’s shadow. It was supposed to be the other way around. SHE was supposed to be the one in the spotlight.

Biting back tears, she looked at her half empty closet and the three pair of shoes. Just over a year ago she had enough shoes to make Imelda Marcos jealous and now she had three pair. The tennis shoes wouldn’t do. She had worn the heels yesterday so she settled on the black boots. Cordy was sure that if anyone ever found out she had sold all her clothes, jewelry and lingerie just to get to California where she hadn’t even gotten a callback to her auditions, she would die.

Dressed, she stared at her hair. Hair that once looked so polished and shiny and had every indulgence now relied on Suave to make her look like she had spent a fortune on her hair but actually spent less than five bucks. She lifted her silver handled brush, the only thing she had left to remind her of her previous wealth and closed her eyes, dragging the hard bristles through her hair.

Then she did something that used to terrify her. She dug through her bureau and took out a teasing comb, intent on giving her hair some life no matter how cheap the products were.

**

“Hurry up.” Spike said for the fifteenth time. “The sun’s been down half an hour and the wanker will think I’ve killed you or something.”

“It’s your fault.” Buffy called back, her voice muffled by the bedroom door, which she had closed so she could get dressed. “I can’t get my pants to zip because you made me eat three tons of food!”

“Then wear a dress.” He suggested, staring at the clock again. The night couldn’t end until it started. It was going to be a long night if this was the pace.

“I can’t.” She cried. She was lying on her back, struggling to tug the zipper up of her favorite leather pants. Willow had bought them for her when she went to Baja with Oz so he could perform. There was a motorcycle show there that they went to just to see what it was about and her friend had found these and said they screamed, “Fuck You.” Buffy wore them when she wanted to look unapproachable and bad ass.

“Why can’t you?” Spike stuck his head in the door and narrowed his eyes. She KNEW that those pants drove him insane! “Yes, wear a dress.”

“I’ll probably be slaying tonight, Spike. Sorry if I don’t want to show the world my thong.”

He saw her point. “Let me try.”

“Don’t pinch me.” She told him, but moved her hands away.

As he clasped the zipper, he brushed the smooth skin of her stomach with his fingertips, causing them both to visibly shudder. After several attempts he said. “It’s not going.”

“It has to go.”

“You brought your entire wardrobe so pick something else.” He was tired of seeing her skin so exposed, so ready to be kissed.

“If I wanted to wear something else then I would have picked it out first.” She snapped and began tugging at the zipper again.

“Well, can’t you at least look for something else?”

“It took me thirty minutes to pick this outfit. Do you really want me to go through every single suitcase until I find something else? Because I’m a woman, I know for a fact that I want to wear THIS outfit and nothing else will make me happy.”

“Bloody HELL!” He stalked around the room and finally yanked a coat hanger out of the closet. He tried to fit the hook through the small hole in the zipper pull but it was a little too big. Swearing, he peeled the plastic coating away and tried again, fitting it through and tugging upward.

It gave and so did he. As her pants zipped, he fell on top of her. Buffy gasped and he shot back to his feet, trying not to appear out of sorts. He looked at her and said, “Ready?”

“Shoes. Let me get my shoes.” She got to her feet and quickly grabbed a pair of black boots from her closet.

It was undeniable. She had felt it. There was something between them besides the coat hanger he had stuck through her zipper. When he fell on top of her she had felt HIM…hard as a rock and digging into her pelvic bone. It didn’t matter what she faced that night.

How was she going to get her mind off of THAT!?

**

“I can’t take my mind off of it.” Angel snapped. “This is BUFFY we are talking about here.”

Doyle finished buttoning his shirt and stood, slipping on his loafers. “I know who she is. I know what she is. And she HAS to be our salvation and she can’t do that if you upset her to the point she’s breathing into a sack again.”

The vampire slumped against the wall. Seeing Buffy that way had broken his heart in two. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think she would be so…weak. Was she even strong enough to do anything about this? “What if she isn’t strong enough?”

“She will be. And she’ll have all of us to help her.” Doyle brushed past him. “And what did you do to your hair?”

“Nothing.” Angel replied, running a hand through his soft gel-free hair. He hadn’t even remembered to fix his hair.

“That’s what I thought.” Grinned Doyle.

“Fuck!” The vampire cringed and stalked toward the door.

Cordelia, with bigger hair than even Angel usually had, stuck her head in. “They just pulled up.”

“Cordy, have you seen my gel?” Asked her boss. “It was almost empty.”

“Uh, yeah.” The brunette patted her hair. “A little bit went a long way.”

He shut his eyes. “You used it all?”

“It was almost empty.” She replied with a small shrug.

Angel pushed past her and went into his bedroom. Cordy watched him go and said, “Great. Now he’ll be mope boy all night.”

“What was his reason before?” Doyle asked, following Cordy to the office.

Cordy immediately frowned at her choice of clothing when she saw Buffy. The girl looked amazing. Her hair was blown straight, hanging down her back almost to her waist and it was parted deep on the side and held back with a metal clip. She was wearing black leather pants with some pattern in them and a red velvet body shirt that looked so luxurious Cordy wanted to ask to touch it. She looked natural and beautiful, whereas Cordelia had spent forty minutes and a can of hair spray making sure she had fake body.

Buffy saw her and smiled, dropping the bag she had brought in. “Hey Cordy!”

“Hi.” She said sadly, still eyeing the girl's thin frame. “You look good, Buffy.”

“I dressed for function. These are my lucky pants.” Buffy couldn’t believe it but she’d swear that Cordelia Chase was envious of her clothes. HER clothes and not the other way around. “I like your shirt. It’s a great color.”

Cordy only nodded and stepped aside as Angel walked through the door wearing a base-ball cap. Spike snorted and said, “Aww. Did Pooh run out of the sticky stuff?”

“Shut up, Spike.” He looked at Buffy as he said it, drinking in her appearance and deciding that she had, indeed, changed in the last year. She was still beautiful, but he could see a hardness to her that she never had before.

“He’s out of gel.” Cordy shrugged. “And Angel, you so don’t have a hat head.”

“Did you see There’s Something About Mary, Angel?” Buffy asked innocently.

“No. Is it good?” He was shocked and pleased that she was making casual conversation with him.

The sound of Spike and Cordy’s laughter made Buffy join them and she nodded. “Great grooming tips. Cameron Diaz’s character, Mary, was able to get more lift in the front of her hair than anyone.”

“I’ll have to watch it.” He nodded, weary of what he’d actually see because the laughter was unbearable.

“I’ll HAVE to be there for that.” Cordy winked at Buffy.

“Anyway,” Doyle interrupted. “To address the business at hand…”

“Right.” Buffy stopped giggling and went into full Slayer mode. ”I have a few questions.”

“I have a FEW answers. Not many, I’m afraid.” Doyle offered an apologetic shrug and sat down.

“When is this ritual set to take place?” She asked absently, squatting to look in the side of her bag for a stick of gum.

“Saturday. That gives us three days counting tonight.”

“Is Wesley the lead vampire right now?” Buffy asked, lifting her bag and sitting it on his desk, still rummaging.

“We think so.” Angel answered.

“You THINK so?” Buffy raised an eyebrow and stopped looking for gum. “I need to KNOW so. I mean, he’s dead either way but I need to get my priorities worked out here. I need to know who to go after the hardest. How many vampires do you think are involved?”

“Roughly, I’d say about forty, give or take a few.” Doyle frowned.

“I need you guys to take me to their…lair…I guess. I need to bug the place while you guys cause a distraction."

"Bug?" Asked Cordy, looking confused. "A bug?"

"I'm going to plant a bug inside the building." Buffy finally found a pack of Bubble Yum and shoved a piece into her mouth.

Spike shook his head. "I thought this was a detective agency. She doesn't know what a bug is?"

Angel and Doyle both shrugged, inwardly embarrassed by her lack of knowledge and the fact that they still kept her on the payroll.

Buffy popped a big bubble and said, "With that many vampires involved I don’ t feel comfortable with just barging in and kicking ass. I want to hear what ’s on their pathetic little minds and take them out a few at a time. When I thin out their family, I’ll make my move.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Spike smiled, proud of her for staying focused.

“No it doesn’t.” Doyle said. “If we cause a distraction then they’re going to know we’re on to them.”

“Not necessarily.” Cordelia smiled, pleased with herself for offering to help. “I’m the queen of distraction.”

“I don’t want to put you at risk, Cordy.” Buffy shook her head. “I guess I can take my chances alone and hope they’re all out hunting.”

“No.” Spike shook his head firmly. “You aren’t going in alone. No one knows that I’ve been working with you because we kill everyone who does. Poof here didn’t even know. I’ll go inside and talk to them, pretend I want in on the action and check out who is behind it. Hopefully, I can get them out for a beer and you can make your move.”

“I don’t know.” Buffy’s stomach churned at the thought of him being in the middle of things. He could hold his own with the best of them but if anything ever happened to him, she’d die too.

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Doyle stated the obvious.

“Okay. Surveillance first. I want to get a feel for the area anyway.” Buffy shrugged.

“We don’t exactly have much in the way of equipment.” Doyle cleared his throat. “Actually, we don’t have much in the way of anything.”

“I do.” Buffy quickly unzipped her bag and pulled out several high tech pieces of equipment.

“How did you get this stuff?” Angel lifted several of the items, amazed at how prepared she was. “Half of this is military.”

“Xander’s a manager at that Army surplus store on Vega Street. He kinda…uh…contributes to the cause.” She pulled out three pair of night vision goggles and five tiny black boxes.

“Xander is a manager somewhere?” Cordelia couldn’t believe it. “He isn’t even twenty yet.”

“They were amazed at his military knowledge. Remember Halloween?” Buffy turned and slid one of the boxes into Spike’s pants pocket and then handed him an ear piece and a microphone. “These are hands free walkie-talkies. We tried the hand held kind for a while and they always got smashed or lost. You can hide the case and microphone pretty easily and the earpiece can’t be seen unless you’re looking for it.”

She slid one into her own pants and handed the others their own. As they all hooked themselves up, she dug through the bag again and pulled out several stakes, passing them around. By the time everyone was jacked in, she had pulled out three small flat disks with wires on either side. “These are the bugs I’ll plant. I doubt I’ll get the chance tonight but I’ll take them just in case. We have a receiver in Spike’s car that let’s us flip between the three and listen to any conversation that goes on within thirty feet. They have a life expectancy of about seventy-two hours and it should be done by then.”

Finally, Buffy slid a black vest on and zipped it over her shirt. There was a flashlight, a rope, several odds and ends and Holy Water strapped to it.

“Whoa!” Cordy smiled. “It’s an Old Navy High Tech tech Vest!”

Buffy laughed and nodded. “I’ll break out in dance any moment now.”

“Let’s get a move on then.” Doyle shoved two stakes into the pockets of his jacket and walked past them. “By the way, we’ll all have to go in your car.”

“We have a van.” Cordy quickly added, already embarrassed by how much they didn't have. “But it’s torn up. Angel can’t drive.”

That gave Spike an idea. He was going to inflict the worst amount of pain possible without touching these people. “Buffy, you drive.”

“Yay!!!” She cried, snatching the keys he offered.

They weren’t going to know what hit them.

**

“Red light!” Doyle screamed. “It’s RED!”

“Red means stop.” Cordy cried, seeing the busy intersection zooming toward them at sixty miles per hour. “Buffy!”

Buffy slammed the brakes and the car skidded to a stop, throwing the occupants in the backseat against the front seat. “Quit bumping my seat. It distracts me.”

“And it hurts me!” Cordelia pried her face off the cool leather and shook her head. “You shouldn’t slam the brakes like that.”

“Did you want me to stop or not?” Buffy looked at the girl in the rearview mirror, wigging a little because she couldn’t see Angel or Spike who sat on either side of her.

Doyle clutched his stomach when the light turned green. “I’ve never been carsick riding in the front seat until now.”

“Good, mate. You can ride here on the way back.” Spike didn’t much like being so close to Angel and he had been hoping he’d get the chance to lean across and whisper stuff into Buffy’s ear just to annoy his freakin’ knob of a sire. But no. Doyle HAD to ride up front because he got carsick.

“I’d probably live longer if I rode back there!” Doyle let out a high pitched screech as Buffy narrowly missed a moving van that shot through one of the alleys and crossed in front of them. Then he swore loudly as she flew through a dip in the road that caused all of them to leave their seats and bump their heads on the roof of the car. “My head!! Am I bleeding?”

“Where is the turn?” Buffy asked. They had said it wasn’t far past the red-light.

“It’s coming up on your left.” Angel hadn’t let go of the passenger headrest since Buffy started the car. “Slow down, Buffy, you’re almost there.”

“What?” she flipped the radio off and turned to look at Angel. “I didn’t hear you.”

“BUFFY LOOK OUT!” Cordelia screamed, pointing at the car that had stopped in front of them.

Buffy turned back to look at the road and stomped the brake again. She saw the side road and took it when she realized that she wouldn’t stop in time. Unfazed by the near death experience she said, “Oh, this is the right road, isn’t it? There’s the red awning and the blue sign. The warehouse district.”

Doyle looked across the seat at her like she was insane. “We can walk the rest of the way.”

“Are you sure?” Buffy asked, getting ready to hit the brakes if he was.

“God, yes.” The man nodded his head violently.

So the brakes were slammed and Buffy careened in a half circle, fitting the car nicely against the curb next to a meat packing warehouse. “Like a glove.” She mimicked Ace Ventura, Pet Detective. A movie that Spike couldn’t get enough of.

She heard him chuckle behind her and smiled. “How far is it, Doyle?”

“Oh, about a mile.” Angel said when it was apparent that Doyle couldn't form sentences, only grunt.

“A mile!” She reached to start the car again but Doyle snatched the keys.

“I...I’d ...r..r..r..rather walk, if y..y..you don’t m..m..m..mind.” He stammered.

“We’d all rather walk.” Cordy was trying to claw her way out of the backseat.

“Fine.” Buffy threw her hands up, defeated. “But you can be the one who runs like hell to get the getaway car if something goes wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong.” Spike stated calmly. “It’s just surveillance, right?”

Buffy nodded and stepped out of the car followed by the others. Doyle had turned a sickly shade of green and Cordelia was as pale as Angel. “Let’s go.”

Spike matched his pace to Buffy’s and the others tagged along behind. For Angel’s benefit, he made a great show of pushing her hair back so he could look at her earpiece and then readjusted it, running his thumb over her cheek as he did. He didn’t have to look back to know that three sets of eyes were watching their every move. He also didn’t have to look at Angel to know that the man was seething.

“It’s just up on the left.” Angel said in clipped even tones.

As they cleared a row of buildings, Buffy was able to make out a large factory set far back off the road. “What is it with vamps and factories?”

Spike just shrugged, digesting the smell of human blood that was clinging to the air. He was about to tell Buffy that there was death here when she made a motion with her hand and everyone followed her off the side of the road, into some tall grass.

“There’s a car coming.” She whispered.

Sure enough, a battered limo was pulling away from the factory and several men could be heard shouting farewells. As the car passed, someone tossed something from the window and it landed a few feet away from the group, then disappeared around a bend.

Buffy moved out of their hiding spot first and pulled a flashlight from the vest she was wearing. “Oh, that’s a bad sign.”

“What?” Asked Angel, coming to stand beside her.

“Remember last time there were severed arms?” She pointed at the human arm lying on the side of the road.

“I sure do.” Cordy squeaked. “And I am NOT picking up anymore pieces ever.”

**

Twenty minutes after the severed arm had been thrown from the limo; Buffy and the others had made their way almost to the building, weaving in and out of the few things they had to hide behind.

Buffy stuck her head out from behind a large canister and glanced toward the main entrance. She started to stand and move closer but Spike caught her arm. “No, ducks. There’s a security camera at about two o’clock.”

She squinted and put her night vision goggles on. Sure enough, a camera, which was attached to a large metal pole was panning slowly in a complete circle. “See any others?”

“No.” He shook his head, unsatisfied with the amount of shelter they had and the way Angel kept looking at Buffy. And he had seen her looking back. Damn it all.

“Okay.” Buffy turned and faced the others, pulling her hair on top of her head and securing it with a clip. “I’m going to go disable the camera. Odds are, they’re too stupid to monitor it anyway, but I’m going to shut it off and see if anyone comes out.”

“But…” Angel interjected, leaning toward her. “Wesley knows you, Buffy. If he sees you on tape..."

Without another word, she pulled a ski-mask from her pocket and tugged it over her face. “And the camera adds ten pounds. I’m safe.”

“I’ll come with you.” Spike offered, making a move to follow her and moving in between Buffy and Angel.

“No.” She shook her head and put a hand on his thigh. “I don’t want to ruin your chances of getting on the inside, Spike. It’s a last resort, but it may be our only option. If they see you now…”

Spike nodded, knowing she made perfect sense, and her hand on his thigh making him agree to anything. “Just be careful.”

Buffy patted him on the leg and turned back toward the camera. She watched it until it was facing away and then made her move. She ran at a full sprint to the pole and paused, looking upward at the camera. It made another pass with her directly under it, out of its range. As it panned away, she shimmied up the pole easily, never struggling or slipping.

Once she reached the top, she pulled a wire out of the back of the camera, not wanting to make it obvious that it had been tampered with. The camera made a whirring noise then stopped moving. Satisfied it was disabled, she swung herself from the pole to the low roof of the building, where she ducked down to wait.

“Shit!” Doyle said. “She just made a fifteen feet jump, easy.”

“That’s my girl.” Angel smiled.

Spike glared at him. “Really?”

"What?" asked the dark haired vampire.

"When did she suddenly become 'your girl' again?"

Angel held up a hand. "Don't start with me, Spike. You know damn well that I was just.."

"Just saying stuff to get under my skin!" Spike growled. "She isn't your girl."

"Is she yours?" Angel snapped. "Because I think we both know how bad YOU would be for her."

"You kiss my bloody arse!"

“Guys!” Cordy hissed and pointed at the building. Two men, presumably vampires, had come out and were staring up at the motionless camera, talking.

From his vantage point, Spike could see Buffy lurking at the edge of the building, listening intently to what the men were saying. He heard a beeping in his ear and turned on his mic. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think anyone else is here. I’m gonna take them out and put the bugs in.” Buffy whispered.

“No.” Spike looked at Angel, who was listening with his earpiece as well. Angel shook his head in agreement. “You can’t be sure no one’s there.”

“I may not get this chance again.” Buffy said quietly.

The men started back toward the door and Spike said, “Just stay out of sight and let them go back in. We’ll go with the other plan.”

“Which plan?” she asked, knowing full well it was the one where Spike pretended to be interested in their evil plot so he could find out what was up.

“The one where I distract them so you can get inside.” He kept his eyes trained on the spot where she was on top of the roof. At least with his plan, he’d be able to do more than he was now. He saw her rise to her knees and said, “Don’t Buffy!”

It was too late. She didn’t like the thought of Spike doing anything so dangerous so she dropped down, blocking the door. “All losers run this way.” She mumbled.

The men rushed her but she stood her ground, quickly disposing of the weaker of the two. The remaining vampire was strong and moved fast. Buffy dropped her stake and struggled to get it and he seized the moment to lift her over his head like a barbell and throw her against the side of the building. Addled, but not about to give up, Buffy rolled back to her feet and swept the man’s legs out from under him, ramming her stake through his chest.

“I’m going in.” She whispered, moving toward the door. Her head ached, bleeding a little from a scrape on her cheek and she could already feel that she would have a huge bruise on her hip and leg but she wanted to get it done.

“Buffy, get your arse back over here, now.” Spike growled, not realizing his face had changed.

“You guys just stay right there. If I need you I’ll call.” She ducked through the door and glanced around. She wanted to do it. Buffy wanted to get the job done and prove that she hadn’t lost her touch, not just to them but to herself as well. Seeing the security area, she peeked inside and pressed one of the bugs into the corner of the desk on bottom, pulling the wires together and twisting them to activate it.

“I just placed the first bug. I’m moving in and to the left, toward an area of what appears to be offices.” She was careful to keep her voice low. All her senses were on edge and she could tell there were other vampires inside the building.

Spike was too angry with her to even reply, so Angel said, “Are you alone?”

“I don’t think so. I think there are more vampires further inside. I’m going to try to drop at least one more bug in a good place and get out of here.” Buffy pressed herself against the wall as a door opened and closed at the back of the building. “No, I’m definitely not alone.”

Doyle heard something to their left and turned to see headlights approaching. He lowered his mouth to the microphone and said, “Buffy, someone’s pulling up out front.”

“Shit.” Was her muffled reply. “I’m gonna hide.”

Frantically, she tried several of the doors and finally found an open room deeper inside the factory. She huddled behind several boxes and said, “I’m safe. I’m completely hidden.”

Spike adjusted his binoculars as several people stepped out of the van that had pulled up. He wasn’t surprised to see Lyle Gorch among them, that man was into everything. He also recognized one of his own minions, Nigel, and another man named Leeth. Angel motioned for the binoculars and Spike handed them to him.

“Leeth.” Angel shook his head. “Should have known. Wesley is with them, Buffy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Buffy said sarcastically, wondering what she had gotten herself into. If she wasn’t out of there come sunrise, they would have to leave her and she would have to rely on Cordelia to save her. “How many are coming in?”

“Seven by my count.” Replied Angel, still looking at the men as they entered the building. “And they’ve got guns.”

Spike yanked the binoculars away and shook his head angrily. Three of the men were carrying rifles. The human killing kind. No tranquilizers in there. A fear that he had never felt before had clenched him in it’s jaw, grinding into his heart. He knew how very close he was to losing her. To losing the only thing he had. The only thing he wanted. “Maybe I should distract them now.”

“No!” Buffy hissed into her microphone. She wouldn’t put him at risk. “Just stay where you are. I’ll get out as soon as I can. Don't blow this, Spike”

The men went inside the building and Angel said, “They’re inside.”

“I hear them.” She whispered. An overhead light suddenly came on and she ducked low. “Shit, now I see them. They’re in here with me.”

“Can they see you?” Spike kept his head, everyone had to give him that. He was shaking and leaning his head against the metal canisters they were hidden behind but he kept his head.

“No. Shh. They’re talking about Saturday.” Buffy adjusted her weight and lifted her head just enough to let her peek over the boxes and see the men.

Wesley? Vampirism had definitely been kind to Wesley. His hair hung around his face, longer than Buffy remembered and he wore no glasses. He was wearing blue jeans, a tight black T-shirt and black boots, something that made her mouth open in shock. He was handsome as a vampire. ~Shit, what is it with me and vampires?~

Wesley ran a hand over several jars on the table, absently stroking the lids. “It’s such a treat really. We should all be so thankful.”

“For what?” Lyle Gorch asked in a heavy Southern accent.

“Why, for me, of course.” Wesley grinned. “Were it not for me, none of this would be a reality. I think that you would all be wise to keep that in mind.”

“Yes sir.” All the men replied.

“Shall I tell you what will become of you if you forget?” Grinned the ex-Watcher, pulling some sort of wooden device from behind the desk.

Buffy cocked an eyebrow. He certainly did have the imposing asshole routine down pat. The fact that he knew her inside and out made her more than a little anxious. She had sparred with him. Many times. He knew her weaknesses, her strengths and her best moves. Not to mention it wigged her out just seeing him in JEANS. What would she do when she saw his fang-face?

All the minions agreed that they didn’t need to know what would happen if they forgot who was boss and Wesley looked dashed. “I was so hoping I could use one of you as an example.” He looked at them again, as if willing one of them to get out of line. “Very well then, allow me to explain the procedure.”

There was a rustling of feet as the men gathered around the table at the front of the room. Buffy, at the back of the room, didn’t dare try to move closer but she did turn her microphone up so everyone on the outside could hear what was being said.

“Inside these jars are the remains of some of the severest vampires who ever walked the face of the earth. Who ever walked among men.” Wesley held up one of the jars.

A man in a business suit, with rings on every finger, shook his head. “Forgive me, sir, but if these are the ‘severest’ vampires to walk to the earth then why do they fit into a jelly jar?”

“Why!?” Wesley snapped. “I will tell you why. Because the blasted Slayer from each of these generations was stronger.” Wesley sat the jar on the table gingerly. “I’ve trained two Slayers. I know all about them. Feisty little creatures, really.”

“There are only four jars. You need five.” Said another man. This one was young, dressed in dark jeans and a leather coat.

“You are Leeth, yes?” Asked Wesley, offering a hand.

“I am.” Leeth nodded and shook the other man’s hand.

“I do need ashes from five strong vampires. The five will be combined and we ’ll use our own blood to make the strongest, most evil being to rule the world.” Wesley opened a drawer and pulled out several envelopes. “These are the names and accomplishments of several vampires here in Los Angeles. Don’t panic if you see your own name. This country is famous for it’s Democracy. We shall all have a fair vote.”

“You mean we’re votin’?” Asked Gorch. “On who the fifth will be?”

“Indeed.” Wesley smirked. “And I don’t know where the notion that Southerners are stupid came from.”

“Uh,” Gorch stared at him, trying to decide if he had been insulted. “Thanks, I reckon.”

“What are in these boxes?” Leeth asked, pointing back toward Buffy’s hiding place.

“Enough explosives to light up this city.” Wesley replied, and moved toward the boxes that Buffy was crouching behind. “Let me show you.”

Spike heard Buffy gasp and started to stand. Doyle shook his head, “You’ll get her and us killed.”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” Spike growled.

“We have too.” Angel shook his head sadly. “I told Giles about this but he wouldn’t begin to know where to find them or how to stop it. If we go in there and get killed, no one else can prevent this. No one else even knows.”

“I don’t care, man.” Spike started to stand again. “That’s Buffy in there and if you..”

“They’re gone.” Came Buffy’s muffled whisper over their walkie-talkies. “I’m going to give them a few seconds, make sure the coast is clear and plant the rest of the bugs.”

“NO!” Spike practically shouted, furious at her, furious at the cowards around him and furious at the fate that made him a vampire and Buffy the Slayer. “We’ve heard everything we need to know. You worry about getting out and to hell with the bugs.”

“But..” She started to protest.

“If you aren’t out here within the next five seconds, I’m coming in.” Spike’ s tone surprised everyone, especially Angel. He couldn’t recall when the last time he had seen Spike so passionate about something. It was unnerving to know he was passionate about HIS Buffy.

“Fine!” Buffy snapped. “But if we miss out on good information…”

“Slayer.” Spike warned.

“Whatever,” She shook her head inside the dark little room, embarrassed by the fact that she had to hide and angry that Spike was acting like her Watcher Figure. She had resigned herself to it being a wasted night when she realized that she was IN the room with the ashes that the vampires needed. She was tempted to bang her head against the wall at how oblivious she was but instead she moved to the table. Yanking out one of the bugs, she activated it under the desk and smiled. ~Score: Two Slayer, Vampires None!~

Very quickly, she grabbed all four jars and opened the door slowly, listening for any sounds. When she heard none, she made her way back toward the entrance, pausing to crane her ears and reach out her senses into the blackness to make sure she was alone. “Is the coast clear out there?”

Everyone glanced around, making sure that it was indeed clear and Spike whispered, “It’s fine. Come on out.”

He was relieved when she darted out the door and made her way toward them, staying close to the building. She crouched at the end, about thirty feet away and then ran to where they waited. Buffy dropped the jars on the ground in front of them and smiled, pulling off her ski mask. “Two bugs planted and their ‘severest vampires’ stolen.”

"Two bugs?" Spike growled. She had apparently planted one after he had told her not too.

Doyle was stunned. “These are the ashes?”

“No, Doyle.” Buffy said sarcastically. “These are sand art displays that I thought would brighten up my room.”

“Buffy, they’re ugly.” Cordy picked one up and stared at it. “Most sand art comes in something besides brownish beige!”

Angel looked disgusted with his co-workers. “It’s the damn ashes, people. Good job, Buffy.”

“Thanks.” She beamed. She had done it. All was good!

“Good job my ass.” Spike sneered, yanking up two of the jars and shoving them at Angel and stuffing the remaining two into his pockets. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Spike?” She put a hand on his arm, not used to his tone, but he pulled away.

“You and I will have a talk later.” He said, glaring at her. Finally, he started back through the tall grass.

Buffy was the last to follow the vampire’s lead. The happiness she had about not getting killed and actually doing something productive left her quickly. All wasn’t good. The way he had looked at her had made her go cold inside. He looked like he despised her.

Cordy waited at the top a small embankment for her. “He was just worried.”

“I know.” Buffy stared at Spike’s back as he stalked down the road, hands in pockets, kicking several rocks.

“But I still wouldn’t want to be in your shoes later.”

Buffy stared at the girl in shock. “Was that supposed to be comforting?”

“Yeah.” Cordelia nodded, then patted her friend sadly.

“Gee, thanks so much.” The Slayer shook her head, realizing that she didn’t want to be in her shoes later either. He was madder than she had ever seen him. And it was anger towards her.

“Glad to help.” Cordelia trotted forward and moved between Doyle and Angel and began talking about the bonus she expected for almost getting killed again and working so late.

Every step forward made Buffy realize that she was closer and closer to hearing exactly what was on Spike’s mind.

And that terrified her.

**