This part follows on about an hour after the last chapter, so I guess you could say it's a bit of a two-parter.
I've left it in a horrid place, I know, but it ain't over yet.
Thanks for the reviews. You lovely people, you.

CHAPTER SEVEN:

She writhed in her bed. Her free hand grasping at the bed sheets with a desperate white-knuckled fist. The cotton groaned under her grip. "Umm... What?"

"Buffy, are you alright? Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, I'm listening, Will. And I'm fine..." She looked down at the white-blonde head working between her legs and the corners of her mouth tugged upwards. "*Really* I am."

"We just haven't seen you around much, is all... Is everything OK?"

She glanced at the head again and it turned up to look back at her with a face of someone drunk on passionate mischief. He grinned at her before dipping his head back and continuing. She gasped at the renewed sensations. "Things are *very* OK."

"Uh, OK. I was just worried. It's understandable, I know but it just seems that lately you don't know whether you're coming or going -"

"I'm fine, Will, really. I'll see you tonight, OK?" She managed to get out through clenched teeth. The cotton of the bed sheets finally gave way with a satisfyingly sharp tear that sympathised with the tension bubbling inside of her.

"At Xander's?"

"Yeah sure. See you later, Will. Bye."

She slammed the receiver down on its hook and grasped at his curls with both hands, her head and body arching off the bed and her thighs clamping around his head as a storm of pleasure wreaked through her. Her muscles twitched out the aftershocks as she fell back against the pillow and relaxed into a sublime calm that settled itself in her belly and rippled outwards. She tugged weakly at his hair to invite him up.

He responded, lazily crawling up her body in the strong-shouldered-slack-backed manner of a predator. Her stomach leaped and she felt desire tweak along her groin again. She smiled as he drew his head up level with hers and they locked eyes.

"You off out tonight?"

She nodded. "I have to... I haven't seen my friends for days. They'll start to suspect something."

He chuckled and dipped his head to kiss her collarbone. "They'd never suspect this, Love... Not in a millennia of Sundays."

"I know. But I should do the 'quality time' thing... Giles said he'd let me get back to training in my own time but I should check in with him too." She glanced at the clock - 7:30 - and back at him with big, hopeful eyes. "You stay for when Dawn gets home?"

"Sure."

One word. One syllable. That's all. Yet she couldn't rationalise how much of an effect it had on her. She stared up at him until he was forced to ask:

"What?"

She shook her head (Nothing. Everything.) and drew him down for a kiss.

-
-
-

"Hey Buff! Where's the Dawnster?" Xander asked, scanning the hall as he let her in.

"Out, with friends. I, um, asked a neighbour to be in when she gets back."

"Neighbour?"

"Mrs. Randall, next door. She's been really nice, you know, since Mom." Not exactly a lie, Mrs. Randall had been nice since the funeral in that over-enthusiastic-I-don't-mean-to-get-in-your-way-but-if-there's-anything-I-can-do... way.

Xander nodded in that silent, supportive way he did and it reminded her how much she loved him and Willow.

"I left a note for her to call me when she gets in."

Anya was coming towards her now and she steeled herself for the uninfectious enthusiasm Anya in hostess mode.

"Hello, Buffy. Let me take your coat. We have pegs now, look." She pointed out the coat pegs on the wall by the door and her eyes went misty. "Xander got his tool out and put them up yesterday." She said proudly and obliviously.

"Wow, they're... great pegs." Buffy smiled at Xander as she handed her coat to Anya.

"My Xander is really good with his hands. Aren't you baby?" She rubbed Xander's arm and he would have been embarrassed if he wasn't far too used to it by now.

"Willow and Tara have just gone out for munchies and a video." Xander said as they walked over to the lounge part of his apartment. "I told them no chick-flicks, it's bad enough I've got to entertain all you women without having to put up with all that sappy, romantic stuff."

Buffy rolled her eyes and Anya took him far too literally.

"Poor baby. That's why I suggested Willow and Tara go. With them being... as they are, they'll probably pick something my Xander can enjoy too - only vicariously though, of course." Anya smiled. "I'll give him the real thing tonight."

"Anya!" OK, that earned a blush.

Buffy laughed. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all. She realised that she'd missed them all, even Anya. By the sounds of it both she and Xander had something to look forward to when they were alone with their partners (is that the right thing to call him?) tonight.

-
-
-

"Hey, Buffy. I just got your note."

Buffy glanced over at the equally relieved faces of her friends and at the clock - 8:20 - good her sister listened to her. She couldn't help the swarm of pride that warmed her. She had laid down a curfew and it had been adhered to. She was officially a guardian.

"So, did you have a good time?"

"Oh, yeah. The movie was great. That Freddie Prinze Junior is just divine, don't you think?"

"Umm, he's OK, I suppose. Did you go anywhere after?"

"Just for milkshakes, junk-food and over-analysis."

"Sounds good. I'm glad you had a good time. Can I speak to Sp - you-know-who a minute?"

"You-know-who? Oh, he's not here."

"What?!" Her heart stopped and lunged towards her throat.

"Er, I thought he was with you - But now I'm realising that's just a ridiculous idea. But no, he's not here. I kinda thought it was cool you trusted me to be on my own - But now I'm realising that that's a ridiculous idea too." There was a moment or eternity of silence over the line. "Er, Buffy?"

She felt sick, her head was turning over so fast she was getting dizzy from standing still. "Dawn. Stay inside, I'm coming home." She hung up and turned to her friends. They had gone back to watching the movie.

"I have to go."

"Buffy, what's wrong?" Willow asked, her body language indicating that she was about to stand up and come towards her. Buffy had to think fast, there was no way she could lie to Willow if she was stood right in front of her.

"Mrs. Randall." She voiced the first thought that came to mind. "Yes! Mrs. Randall, she's not too well so I'd better get back and relieve her of Dawn duty."

"Are you sure you're OK?"

"D-do you want us to come with you?" Tara spoke, backing up Willow.

Buffy forced a casual laugh that came out more as a scoff. "Yeah, fine. Sorry about tonight guys, I did enjoy myself for all of about twenty minutes."

"Don't worry about it. We'll try for half-an-hour next time." Xander grinned and she smiled gratefully back at him.

"Sure."

-
-
-

"He's gone." Dawn declared after having searched the house for any sign of him but there was nothing.

The house remained as if he had never been here, as if the last few days had never happened. It had never felt so empty, well, except after the funeral. Even her memories were threatening to fade fast. She wondered vaguely if Home was indeed where the Heart is, then by inviting him into her home had she -?

She dug her fingers into the kitchen counter until her fingernails paled and pained against the pressure.

"Aren't you even a little worried?"

She glanced around at her sister stood in the doorway. "No." She stated numbly. "He's gone. People leave... it happens."

"He left his car." Dawn stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorjamb.

Buffy thought back. Him. The rain. The car. She in his coat. '"Something's should be left behind."'

CHAPTER EIGHT:

It was strange how used she had grown so used to him in such a short time. The bed felt cold and empty when she woke up, the kitchen large and yet claustrophobic. The lounge had regained its previous ominous overtones but at least she could sit on the sofa now without being overcome with nausea.

He had given her all these memories, only to leave her with only them for company. (Oh and a clapped-out, old rust bucket with suspiciously blacked-out windows. What must the neighbours think?)

The aching void that he had eased pulled again in her gut and she recognised the pain all to well. She realised that she was grieving for him. (Is this his new way of trying to kill me? Got bored with fist and fangs and decided to try it this way instead? And then got bored with that?)

She stared at the square tiles of letters in front of her and her mind rearranged them into nonsensical words. TKERGAS, SKERTGA, AGE TRSK, STA TREK?

"I can't go."

Dawn looked up at her and frowned. "Are you sure? You said that last time."

She stared down at the web of words, her eyes focusing through the board, through the table, through the floor looking for some hidden meaning in it all. She broke away and turned her head back at her sister. "I can't go."

"It was your idea to play Scrabble, Buffy. You could at least put some effort into it. I mean what kind of a word is 'FAR'?"

"It's in the dictionary."

"Yeah... but if you're going to let me win you can at least be subtle about it."

Buffy sighed and sank back into the sofa. "I'm sorry, I just thought we could do something. Just the two of us, you know?"

"Yeah but *Scrabble*?" Dawn executed the perfect I-so-bored-with-this look N° 3 and even pouted a little.

"We used to play it, with Mom."

Her sister nodded and her eyes lowered to her own letters.

"Dawn?" She waited until Dawn met her eyes. "Do you think that I've been... neglecting you lately. You know since -?"

"Since you've been getting some?"

Buffy cringed. (What is it with Dawn and her mouth lately? Has she been spending too much time with Anya?)

"If you have to put it like that then, yeah. I mean, have you... you know, been feeling the neglect-age?"

Dawn shrugged. "Not really. Maybe you were a bit busy and in your room making a lot of suspect noises." She smiled at Buffy's blushes. "But when you were around you were... better."

"Better?"

"Yeah, you know... happier." Dawn's voice wilted and she continued in an only-just-audible whisper. "It was like for a while we were a family again and not just two... orphans."

"We're not orphans, Dawn."

That earned a bitter scoff. "That's right, we've got a Dad... somewhere."

"Do you want to call him?"

"Dad?! No!" She sighed and scrunched up her glassy eyes. "He doesn't care. I couldn't stand talking to someone that doesn't care right now."

"I know." They looked at each other in full understanding, The empathy passing between them in a heart wrenching moment of silent eye contact.

"I didn't want him to go away, if that's what you're thinking."

"No?"

"No, I mean he was alright for a bloodsucker with a bad bleach job."

Buffy laughed. "You didn't like the hair?"

Dawn's eyes wide with incredulity. "I suppose he's got that whole 'no reflection' excuse going for him. I mean if he ever saw just how ridiculous he looked, he'd probably never go out the house - Oh, er, I mean..."

Buffy let it pass with a wave of her hand. "The hair, it kinda grows on you."

"You mean *he* kinda grows on you."

Buffy gaped back at Dawn. Sometimes she would come out with something that would make Buffy question just who or what she was talking to. She looked into her sister's old-as-time eyes and wondered if the aged nature of The Key had endowed her with some innate wisdom that was totally at odds with the self-centred, easily-bored nature of the teenager she was. Something so old and young in the same annoying-little-sister package. You didn't get any more special than that.

"Yeah... I guess he does - did. But no more."

"Nevermore?"

"Never... 'Never' is a strong word -"

"There's always hope, right?"

Something in her sister's voice made her pause and question herself. Eventually she nodded. Somehow, unlike Riley, he had left her with something. Something she could now put a name to.

"Yeah, there's always hope."

-
-
-
-

"You think we should call a tow truck?" Dawn asked as they assessed the Desoto in the stark midday light.

"No. I'm not paying to have this thing shifted. Maybe if we leave it long enough it'll decompose. That or the aesthetically obsessed neighbours will have it removed." The sisters grinned at the shared image of Mrs. Randall hyper-ventilating about the state of the neighbourhood while staring pointedly at them.

A thought struck Buffy as they walked up to the car. "Or maybe we can fix it up." She ran a hand along the hood and up the paint-caked front window.

"You just don't want to let go."

No, it was proof. Proof he'd been here. Buffy smiled thinly at her sister. "Just leave it a couple of days?"

"Whatever... it's your call. Though you may wanna have it moved. You know in case Giles or anyone comes round. Won't they recognise it?"

She hadn't thought of that. She hadn't thought of much at all, except...

Sure her friends would recognise it. It was pretty much unmistakable. Just like him.

She tried the door - open. The keys were even still in the ignition. (Guess no one's gonna steal a dead engine. Guess no one would want *this* dead engine. Except me... maybe.)

She felt herself drawn in and sat down in the driver's seat. His scent engulfed her as it had done that first night and her mouth twitched into a smile as memories flooded into her. The car was more than just like him. It *was* him. Maybe she could keep it somewhere secluded. A place to go when it all got too much, a haven that smelt of all things him. (OK, don't get too much with the sappiness now, will you, Buff?)

Instinctively reaching for the keys she turned the engine over. It chugged and complained like she expected it to but then sprung to life with a startling grunt that made her jump. As the engine mellowed out into a steady growl she stared up at Dawn.

"I thought you said his thing wouldn't start?"

"I - It wouldn't." (OK, I didn't actually hear it not starting.)

"Miracle?"

"I don't think so. Unless it's just... temperamental." (Or has the worst/best timing ever.)

Dawn laughed and Buffy frowned at her. "What?"

"I know his game. He played the "my car won't start" trick, eh? A classic - well it is in the movies."

"Trick?" She found herself considering the word more than she would have liked. Had it all been a trick? Just when did it start? If the car was still running then why did he leave it behind? Or was this just his calling card? A shot of indefinable thought bolted through as she turned the engine off. Something was wrong here. Very wrong.

She turned in her seat to look into the back seat. Nothing, just a few empty bottles of whiskey and cigarette butts.

"What you looking for." She heard Dawn ask. She couldn't say. She didn't know what she was looking for exactly but she knew what finding it would mean.

Hope.

Searching at the sides and under the seats turned up nothing but more of the same and a couple of old newspapers. 1977, 1992, 1981 (The year I was born. Huh.) Just on the point of giving up she had one more instinct to follow. Her eyes settled on the glove compartment and her hands were instantly on the latch, opening it.

There. That was it. Exactly. She tentatively pulled it out of it's confine and stared at it.

One of Drusilla's dolls.

There were some things that should be left behind. That could be left behind. But was this one of them? Even if this was all about hurting her, he still loved Drusilla. He would need this just as much as she needed things to remind her of her mother. Maybe he had wanted a really, really fresh start and wanted to leave it all behind him. Or maybe... just maybe, he hadn't left at all.

"Dawn!"

"What? What did you find?"

"Everything." She put the doll back in the glove compartment and got out the car, securing it habitually. "Come on, we're going to the Magic Shop."

-
-
-
-

"So, you've heard nothing? No rise in Vampiric activity or any new... strangeness?"

"No, nothing. Apart from the odd crazed leftover from Glory's brain food found wandering around, things have been rather quiet. Disturbingly so... I-I-It's as if something is building. Some - something terrible is waiting to happen -"

"This is Sunnydale, Giles. Something terrible is *always* waiting to happen. Something terrible is usually in the *process* of happening. As it is, I'm happy for the time off."

Giles seemed rightly taken aback by her outburst and predictably removed his glasses for inspection. Thankfully he refrained from cleaning them. She realised that it just gave him something else to focus on, a reason no to look her in the eye.

"That's understandable Buffy, after what you're going through but I really think that you should get back to your training. You don't want to be out of condition when the next -" He paused for a weighted, dramatic breath and met her eye once more. She wasn't going to like this "You need to understand that you - Glory is a very powerful opponent, a god no less -"

"Yes! I get it. A Hell god. "Feel my fury, for you shall bow down before me" and all that. I *get* it, Giles, I've fought her before. Remember?" It was her turn to take a heavy breath. "But when the time comes - no matter how hard I train - I'm not gonna be able to defeat her through strength alone." She sat down and sighed, rubbing at her temples with her fingers.

"So you're just going to... give up?"

She glanced at Giles and her gaze drifted to rest on her sister, sat quietly, awkwardly twiddling her thumbs amidst the tension. She smiled at her.

"No. Never." Dawn grinned at that and Buffy had never felt so proud.

The bell tinkled and the sound of laughter dissolved the tension. She glanced up to see Xander, Anya and Willow enter the shop.

"Anya Jenkins, shop-assistant extraordinairre reporting for duty." Anya stopped just short of a salute as she approached Giles. "Well boss, where are the customers?"

"Anya." Giles was breathless already. "It's been a quiet morning. Why don't you start the stock taking?"

"Oh, OK. Bye honey." She pecked Xander on the cheek before disappearing down into the cellar.

"Hey Giles, Buffy." Xander made a special smile for Dawn. "How's my favourite Dawny?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I'm not twelve any more, *Xandy*. In fact, I never was." At that she stood up and went to look around the shop.

"Don't worry, Xandy. I still love you." Willow smiled as she sat down next to a suddenly quite disconcerted Xander. She looked quietly serene in the manner that only the seriously content and loved-up can carry off and for more than a moment Buffy envied her. "How you doing, Buffy?"

"Unsettled. I think there's something going on." She glanced quickly at Giles to see him nod wearily.

"Once again, the theme-tune of the Hellmouth." Xander quipped, stretching out a casual yawn. "And here I thought we could have a nice hang-out-y Saturday with no hell beasties getting in the way. Should have known... So, what's the 411?"

She stopped. She couldn't tell them. They'd find out eventually and she'd face them when they did but not now. She wasn't ready. "Er, guys. I really think I should handle this on my own -"

A burst of activity coming forth from the door interrupted her. She turned in alarm to see two of Glory's scabby minions advancing upon them. Her eyes shot to Dawn and she silently urged her sister to hide behind the counter she was standing at. Satisfied that Dawn was hidden she stood to face-off with the minions.

"What do you want?"

"If you please. It is not a matter of what we want but what our Mistress, the most incandescent and radiant One most deeply desires that is our business -"

"Because what She desires is what we desire. Her most humble and loyal servants that we are."

"Indeed, for serving her -"

"I'm losing my patience rather quickly here and you don't want to see me in my most out-of-patience state." (OK, not my best threat) But it had the required effect. The minions stopped expounding amongst the two of them and even cowered a little.

"Right. Straight out with it..." The male minion began before taking a step back and giving the female the stage. (Typical male)

"Quite. Glory has your pet Vampire and if you do not relinquish The Key to her she will kill him."

"Her what?" Xander and Willow questioned loudly together and Buffy's heart stopped.

"Glory would normally do away with such a creature on sight but you do seem quite... attached to this particular specimen - and may I just say, I can see why - and Glory with Her infinite intelligence realises the bargaining power he possesses." The minion smiled smugly and pressed her palms together. "The trade is simple: The Vampire for The Key."

"The what? What the hell's she talking about, Buffy?" Xander.

"Yeah, Buffy. What's this all about?" Willow.

"Buffy. This has gone far enough. I demand to know what is going on here." Giles.

Buffy turned to the questioning gaze of her friends and Watcher.

"Er, guys." She winced. "I think there's something you should know."

CHAPTER NINE:

"Spike."

"Yes. Xander, for the fifth time: It's Spike." She sighed and brought her fingers to pinch at the nagging strain in the bridge of her nose.

"Spike?"

"Yes!"

"*Spike* Spike?" Xander continued with his emphatic gestures, waving his hands about in an attempt to communicate just how much trouble he was having coming to terms with this new information.

"Xander, please, just try -"

"The Spike that tried to murder us all, Spike?"

"N-not all of us."

"He hasn't tried to kill me." Anya said nonchalantly, not taking her eyes off the receipts she was studying all too closely.

"Or me." Dawn piped up, giving her sister a small, supportive smile.

"OK, not all, just the ones of us lucky enough to have met him *before* he got in Buffy's pants."

"Xander!" Willow's voice and expression betrayed only a little confusion shaped, as they were, out of pure best-friend-type concern.

"I suppose if we're being pedantic here, he hasn't made a specific effort to kill me either." Giles sighed heavily and loosened his tie.

"OK, the Spike that's made a 'specific effort' to kill Buffy, me and Willow. Is that better?"

"Well a-actually -"

"Willow!"

"Shut up, all of you." Giles finally lost his patience with the situation. He stood up and began to pace, his shoulders tense and his head dipped down ever so slightly, as he rubbed at his eyes.

"We're getting nowhere here. Losing sight of what's important." Once he was sure that he had everyone's attention, he continued." The fact is, Glory has Spike and we need to know if there's a danger... I-if he has told Glory a-about Dawn."

"He can't have. He doesn't know - there's no way he can do." Buffy scanned the not-entirely-convinced faces of her friends. "I didn't tell him... I-I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

"It seems to me like you weren't thinking much at all"

She ignored Xander, silently imploring Willow and Giles to react with reason. "I can't let him die over this. I can't let him die over something he has no clue about. He's innocent in this."

"He's not innocent. He's never innocent. He's Mr. Kill-the-innocent-and-bathe-in-their-blood! - Insert evil laugh here."

"I've had this lecture already, Xander. From Spike, himself. And believe me when I say it's wearing thin."

"Wait, Spike lectured you on his qualification in evilness?" Willow asked.

"He tried to, yes."

"*OK*, this just keeps on getting wiggier. Have we slipped into the Twilight Zone, here?" It seemed odd to her. Xander making his usual flip comments but his voice was flat, humourless, and it made Buffy cringe internally far more than any of his earlier, edgier comments had.

"Anya, have you or any of your vengeance demon friends been granting strange wishes? Because I *really* not liking the idea of meeting the evil me again." Willow laughed coyly and Buffy couldn't help smiling fondly at her attempt to diffuse the tension, before remembering the reason for the tension.

"Look guys. I remember the times he tried to kill us, I really do." She looked down as she relived the past few days in her mind's eye. "But I also remember how he's had plenty of chances to kill me but he hasn't... and how he's been there for me -"

"Been there for you? *We're* your friends, we're *here* for you."

Xander's eyes had hardened and his arms crossed over his chest. The Xander she knew and loved was nowhere to be seen in this stranger's countenance. But no - she had met this Xander before, when he had been the voice of harsh morality over Angel. She grimaced at the memories. Just how did they get here again? Was her life destined to come back to the same point, to the same confrontation?

"He understands in a way none of you can... Drusilla, was killed - by Angel." She looked up as the shock registered on her friend's faces and her eyes drifted to Giles. "I know you went through it with Jenny but I needed someone else. I needed what only he could offer -"

"You mean sex?"

"Yes, Xander. If you insist on being so direct, the sex was a big part of it... but not all. There was more to it, we -"

"Xander, would you rescue *me* if I were captured by a hell God?" Anya finally looked up from her perusing and cut through the fraught conversation with her musing.

Xander sighed and looked at his girlfriend, his eyes softening as they settled on her, even though his patience was still short. "Of course I would, honey. But that's different. I love you, I'd do anything -"

Silence swelled from the centre of the table and expanded to fill the room with an uncomfortable pressure as all eyes turned towards Buffy. The eternities bred and their children mocked her from the ceiling and from the top of the shelves, as she waited for the inevitable question:

Willow was the first to air the same thought they all had. "Oh God, Buffy. Are you in love?"

She tried to apply an expression of shock but it failed and she gave up. "I-I... don't know. But... I need him. We need each other, right now." She took a deep breath to build up her will to say what was necessary. "I don't know if this is going to last, or if it was over before it even began, but I *need* to save him. I need to see him OK."

There was more silence but less accusation in the air. Again Willow was the first to speak. "Really?"

Buffy nodded "Yes... I couldn't stand any more death right now."

Xander sat back up straight and regarded her. She thought for a moment that he would make some remark about how, *technically*, Spike was already dead and she didn't think she'd be able to stand it. His expression remained indiscernible until he spoke. "Then what do want us to do?

The relief was immense. She let out a shaky breath, releasing the knot in her gut and smiled widely at her friends. "Thanks, guys."

"It's what we're here for."

She gave Xander another smile before winding herself into Slayer-mode. She stood and folded her arms as she addressed her friends.

"The way I look at it," her eyes settled on Dawn, "if Glory wants The Key... then we'll just have to give it to her."

CHAPTER TEN:

"All done!"

Dawn emerged from the training room with a giddy bounce and a wide grin plastered on her face. Buffy looked up from her pacing. Dawn's excitement wasn't infectious enough to calm the greedy nervous energy that eating away at her gut. Her eyes settled on Tara.

"Did it work?" She asked, her nerves tightening painfully with anticipation.

Tara smiled and held out a small fossil to Buffy. The rock glowed green momentarily as it passed hands and then reverted to its natural grey, scaly form. Buffy stared at the rock and traced the spiral ammonite imprint with her finger, entranced by its stark yet beautiful simplicity. She'd never looked closely at anything like this before, never seen them as anything more than old rocks but now it so much more. A symbol for everything they all hoped for - an end to this nightmare. If this worked then...

"Are you sure that Glory won't be able to use this?"

"Like I said, it's not the *actual* essence of The Key, more like a... photocopy." Willow and Tara - like Dawn - were still buzzing from after effects of the spell and swayed against each other like two halves of a perfect jigsaw puzzle of happiness.

"Yeah... But are we *sure* that it won't work just the same? It's not like... having a spare key cut?"

Giles came forward and inspected the fossil. Buffy was half-surprised when it didn't glow, but she reasoned that the after-effects of the spell had abated. It was a lot more convincing as a Key if it didn't give itself away with a suspect green light whenever you went near it.

"From what I've read a-and what The Council has told me -" He was momentarily lost to the hypnotic spiral until he shook himself out of his daze. "The Key... i-it has to be pure - undiluted and untainted."

"You think this will be enough to fool her?" She spoke quietly, afraid to let any twinge of hope into her voice. Afraid to jinx this chance they had.

Giles stared back at her and spoke just as quietly. "We can only try."

That was all the encouragement she needed. "Xander - you have the address?"

"Yep, them new apartments up by the park. The insano hell goddess sure does like her luxury."

The adrenaline was in full flow now. Her heart thumping, her veins throbbing and her whole body buzzing with restless energy. This is what it cam down to. Every time.

"Giles, Xander, Willow - you're with me. Tara - take Dawn somewhere safe and do a protection spell." She paused for thought. (Where is safe? Where does Glory not know?) The answer came, as it so often did, in the face of one of her friends. "Xander - you're apartment?"

"What about it? ... Oh, yeah." He tossed the keys to Tara with a smile.

"Thanks. Right... Giles - weapons. I know they're pretty useless against Glory, but I don't trust those minions as far as... Xander could throw them -"

"Hey!" All eyes turned to Xander. "I know what you say is true and I recognise the emergency we have wailing here, but I still feel, on behalf of my bruised male-ego, that I'm entitled to a 'Hey!'... And now I'm done."

Buffy grinned. "We still love you, Xandy."

"What about me?" Anya asked from behind the counter.

"Er, we love you too?"

"No, and *eww*... No, I mean - what do I do while you're out putting my Xander's life in jeopardy?" She said and Buffy understood her concern. Only too well.

"Well Anya," Giles began, "it is of imperative importance that you stay here and... look after the shop."

"You mean, do what I always do?"

"Exactly, carry on everything as normal - oh and Anya?"

"Yes?"

"As of now, consider yourself promoted."

Anya grinned widely and patted the cash register enthusiastically, before her thoughts turned back to Xander and her face fell. She gravitated over to him and looped her arms around his waist.

"Come back and be proud of me?" She asked, looking up at him with her chin against his chest.

"Wild horses... et cetera." He smiled down at her, wrapping his arms around her and enfolding her in a squeeze of a hug.

Buffy allowed them their moment and then turned to Giles.

"It's time."

-
-
-
-

"Take me to Glory."

"You have the exchange?"

"Yes."

The minion did nothing to hide the look of self-satisfied conceit on his face. He rubbed his hands together, muttering something about how pleased Glory will be with him. The other minion who had visited the shop joined him and they whispered in conspiracy for a few moments. They glanced back at Buffy, once, twice, before indicating for the three of them to follow.

Buffy did a quick sweep of the foyer - noting the stairs and looking for other escape routes. She shared a look of unity with Willow as they followed the minions into the elevator.

"You lot in there. We shall meet you on the forth floor. *Don't* try anything. Glory would be most upset and when she is upset she tends to... take her frustrations out on others." They shot her a meaningful glare and scurried off towards the stairs.

The doors closed and the four of them were shut in the confined space. She was so glad none of them were claustrophobic, but still she had the distinct impression that someone else was in there with them. Her eyes scanned the faces of her friends and she frowned, still sensing something else. That was when it hit, when she realised.

He had been in here.

She faltered and teetered on her spot as all breath left her body and her eyes fell to the floor.

And then she saw it.

"Giles." Once she had his attention she simply pointed. To the blood. "Spike's"

"H-how do you know-"

"I *know*. I just know."

Xander hovered over the bloodstain. "You've got to have expected this, that you might not get him back intact... in one piece even." He lifted his head to meet Buffy's glare. "Oh, come on, this *is* Glory 'I could squash you like a bug' we're talking about here -"

"Xander, you're *so* not helping." Buffy silenced him.

"Yes, please do shut up." Giles said in his quietly sardonic manner. The elevator lurched slightly as it reached its destination and Giles pushed at a button to hold the doors to. "Buffy, are you ready?"

She took a deep breath, checked her crossbow and nodded.

"Xander, Willow?" They both nodded and Giles released the button. The doors opened to reveal the anticipatory gazes of the minions. Buffy gulped down the urge to fire the crossbow into one of their smug, ugly little faces and followed them, in silence.

The minions scuttled away, taking turns to over-take each other as they hurried down the corridor, each wanting to be the first to Glory.

-
-
-
-

"Blessed Glorificus, She that shines so blindingly bright with beauty. The Slayer is here to see you."

"Uh-huh." When the minions moved away, they revealed Glory to be lounging self-importantly on a throne-like sofa whilst having her nails filed by another one of her servants. She sipped from a flute glass before handing it to the manicurist minion with a dismissive wave of her hand. She examined her hand for a moment and, satisfied with the results, she finally glanced up at Buffy.

"So she is - and look - she's bought her little chums and some toys for me to play with. Ooh, isn't this just so quaint." She said, excitedly drumming her fingertips together.

"You know what we're here for, Glory. Where is he?" Buffy eyed Glory with a look designed to conceal her nervous fear. (Please, let this work. Let us all get out of here alive. Let him be OK.)

"Straight to business?" Glory pouted with mock-petulance. "But I was hoping we could have a nice chit-chat and get to know each other first. I just *love* a good gossip. Love to hear what's going on inside people's heads." She waggled her fingers suggestively while staring at Xander with a look of pure hunger. He paled visibly and gulped.

"Giles, The Key." At the mention of the object of her desire, Glory's eyes snapped to Buffy to see Giles hand her the rock.

The fossil flashed green once more as it passed to her and Buffy questioned Giles with her gaze. He too frowned with wonder at why the rock only seemed to respond to her, but shrugged it off, indicating with a nod in Glory's direction for her to get on with the plan.

Buffy held up the fossil up for Glory to see, squeezing it hard to disguise the shaking of her hand and make sure she didn't drop it. "One Key, for one Vampire. That was the exchange right?"

Glory gazed at the fossil, her eyes glazing with unshed tears. "Can it be? Can it really be?" She asked breathlessly.

"There's only one way to find out."

"Why is it so... ?"

"Simple? Plain? Ordinary?" Buffy supplied for her. "I guess those monks knew you pretty well," she glanced suggestively around Glory's sumptuously decorated apartment, "knew you'd never look twice at a little grey rock. The Key - something so infinitely old contained in a really *old* fossil. It's quite ingenious, really."

"Give it to me."

"Give me what's mine first." (Mine?)

Glory responded with a simple smirk that twisted something in Buffy's gut. She indicated with a nod to something behind them and Buffy filled with dread as she turned round to face it. Him. It.

"*There's* your Vampire."

Silence hung all around them and weighted the air, the pressure pushing against Buffy's lungs, making her struggle for breath.

"Well at least I *think* that's all of him. My minions really are quite scrupulous with their sweeping up. I told them, 'every last speck, I want my carpet spotless again'." Glory sniggered and Buffy flinched as the sound grated along her spine.

One of Glory's servants stepped forward and held the urn out towards her. Buffy numbly handed her weapon to Willow and took the urn, the cool porcelain stinging at her fingers that were raw from gripping her crossbow.

She was aware of the hands of her friends on her and their muffled voices of concern as she stared down at the intricate pattern that decorated the urn. It occurred to her that she should check. That this wasn't real until she saw for certain.

Lifting off the lid, the contents of the pot confirmed everything. Vampire ashes, she had enough experience to tell it apart from ordinary household dust. In fact she had less experience with household dust. She had an urge to run the ashes through her fingers and imagined herself up on a hillside, letting the dust flow through her fingers into the wind -

"You can keep the pot thing, really. It goes with none of my outfits."

Buffy spun round, her eyes burning with rage. "How could you?" Even though her body was shaking with anger, her voice was small, almost silent.

"How could I? How could I *not*?" Glory let out a derisive snort as she rearranged the gold bangles on her wrist. "He was a very annoying Vampire, with that 'bloody' accent and what was *with* that hair?" She asked rhetorically. When she looked back up from her jewellery her face was hard, demanding. "Now give me my Key."

"No."

"No?" Glory laughed. "Oh, Buffy, that's a good one."

"The deal's off." Buffy indicated to the others to back away, but as they turned to leave they were stopped by a blockade of minions. There was a blur before her and Buffy felt a shot of pain glare up her arm as her fingers were wrenched back on themselves with a sickening crack of bones. She clenched her eyes closed to the agony and when she opened them Glory was stood before her with the fossil. Panic flared in Buffy and she was forced to remind herself that it wasn't real. If she could just keep it together a little longer then -

"I was going do this the nice way, but seen as you're not in the mood to co-operate..." Glory strutted away. Holding the fossil against her cheek, she sighed softly with contentment. "It sings to me. Oh, how it *sings* to me." Her face took on a look of pure ecstasy as she pressed 'The Key' between her palms. "Well hello again! It's been forever, hasn't it?"

"What do you want us to do with the Slayer and her friends, oh most bountifully beauteous and powerful one?"

Glory's attention didn't falter from the fossil as she spoke. "Oh, let them go. I have all that I ever wanted... all I could ever need."

-
-
-
-

"Here, let me take this off you."

Buffy didn't fight Willow as she took the urn out of her hands and placed it on the mantle piece above the fire. She immediately felt a pang cut through her at the loss, and her eyes remained fixed upon the urn as Willow took her hands and tried to guide her out of the lounge.

"No."

"Buffy?"

"No, I want to stay here." She moved towards the sofa and slowly lay herself down on her side, clutching her broken fingers protectively against her chest.

"Are you going to be alright?"

Willow's concerned voice was almost too much to bear and Buffy clamped her eyes shut to stop the tears. She couldn't let herself cry because she couldn't say for sure what the tears were for. Him? Her mother? Just another death she couldn't prevent? Herself? Relief that Glory was fooled? Dawn?

"I just want to sleep."

"OK, I'll go phone Tara... check on Dawn."

"'Kay." Buffy whispered without opening her eyes. She held her breath as she listened to Willow's footsteps fade away.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

"There. All better."

Buffy wiggled her newly splintered fingers and made a small noise she hoped would be interpreted as a 'thankyou'. "How's Dawn?"

"She's still at Xander's. I told Xander not to tell her about..." Willow's voice drifted off and she began to clear the first aid paraphernalia off the table.

Buffy nodded. "That's probably for the best. Is she staying at there tonight?"

"Yup, unless you want -"

"No. Not tonight. Just in case, you know... Glory."

"Yeah, I know." Willow's brow furrowed as she sat down opposite Buffy.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I know you, Will. That is *so* not a 'nothing' face. That is very much a 'something' face. So, come on, out with it."

"I've just been thinking, is all."

Buffy smiled. "That makes a change. So what's that brain of yours been all contemplative over now?"

"I was just -- are you sure Glory would have killed Spike? I mean, I know she hasn't got the sharpest mind but... don't you think there's even the possibility that -?"

"Will... I-I can't think like that right now, or *ever* even. I don't have the energy." She winced as she pressed on her broken hand to push herself up to stand. "I really think this makes sense. I mean it happens - people spend too long around me they end up... gone."

Willow's eyes widened as she said with conviction: "Buffy, that's not true."

Buffy hung her head. "Maybe. I'm just not big on the idea of embracing I-love-life-isms right now, OK?"

"It's always OK."

They shared a look and Buffy forced a small smile. "A-are you going to stay?"

"Yep, if that's what you want?"

"It's what I want... I'm gonna go to go to bed for a bit."

"Sure. I'll be here."

Buffy walked steadily upstairs. She wondered vaguely why she didn't feel worse and if she was still in shock but she remembered shock, she remembered everything that came after it. She remembered enough to know that this wasn't shock. It was something else. Something she couldn't name but had experienced all too often.

She walked into her blacked-out room and didn't bother removing the blankets from the windows. It was dark outside anyway. She gravitated to her desk and sat in front of the mirror. Her gaze locked on her shadowed reflection, trying to make out her features in the darkness.

After staring for immeasurable eternities her focus slipped and the silhouette of her head became just another indefinable shape to add to the myriad of grey forms that clouded the mirror. She stared into the mass as it swarmed and spiralled around her. Eventually the stinging of her unblinking eyes forced her to break away. As she closed her eyes she became aware of something and simultaneously a thought struck her.

(Didn't I take those blankets down last night?)

Her head spun round and she finally saw it. The body on her bed, so dark, so deathly still, so asleep, so... him.

-
-
-
-

"Willow!" She half-squeaked, half-whispered when she found her friend reading a magazine in the kitchen. Willow read to the end of the sentence and looked up.

"Hey Buffy, you decided against bed? You hungry? I could probably make you something. Well, you know, as long as that 'something' doesn't involve cook-"

"Willow, I can't go to bed."

"Can't you sleep? I suppose it's only to be expected." she glanced into her coffee momentarily, "I can do a 'sweet dreams' spell for you i-if you like. It's no big..."

"No, Willow. You don't understand, there's -"

"You know, I'm getting pretty tired of hearing that lately!"

"H-hearing what?"

"That 'I don't understand'." Willow rolled her eyes as she gestured the quotation marks. "I'm really trying here, I know -"

"Willow! No, that's not it. You're doing great, really." Buffy reinforced the statement by fixing Willow's eyes. "I need you to come upstairs and tell me what you see."

"What I see?"

"Just... please!"

"Well OK, but if you want me to look at one of those Magic-Eye posters, you're about four years too late."

-
-
-
-

"Well?!" Buffy prodded her friend in the arm but didn't succeed in breaking her stare.

"B...uf...fy."

"Willow?"

"Sp...ike, he's..."

"You see him?"

"Uh-huh... and he's *in* your bed."

The relief was immense. She wasn't just suffering from a bad case of wishful thinking. He *was* really here. But then - Where did that leave her? Leave them?

She stepped forward, over the threshold and over to his body. With the light from the hall streaming through into the room she could make out the different hues of monochrome shading on his body and clothing. In the light she could make out the tear of his T-shirt and not much else, his face masked in heavy shadow. Holding her breath, she reached down and gently touched his arm to stir him. When he made no move she pressed his arm harder and then harder gain, impacting the mattress.

She frowned. "Spike?"

Nothing.

"Spike?" She said it louder and began to shake him.

Still nothing.

"Willow?" She looked back at the doorway and Willow took a step forward to flick the light switch.

"Oh God, Buffy!"

Willow wasn't looking at Buffy though. Her horror-filled eyes were fixed on the bed. Buffy's insides filled with the familiar dread (He can't be dead, he's a Vampire, he can't be dead.) as she turned round to it. Him.

"Oh my God."

-
-
-
-

"Is he still out of it?" Willow asked as Buffy entered the kitchen.

"Out for the count. Whatever that means."

"Maybe it's something to do with sheep." Willow said, the majority of her attention focused on the spell ingredients on front of her.

"Sheep?"

"Yeah, you know, like counting sheep when you can't get to sleep."

"Right, you may be on to something there. So... how's that going?" Buffy leaned against the worktop and looked into the bowl of herb-y stuff Willow was mixing. "Is that sage?"

"Uh-huh, with a few other things you *really* don't want to know about."

"And you say you can't cook." They shared a momentary grin before Willow went back to work. "Thanks for doing this, Will - you don't have to, you know."

Willow silenced Buffy with a wave of her pestle. "Yes I do! Magic's what I do best... Besides, it's not the Big Cure - at most it'll bring him to and ease a few of his... wounds and stuff." Returning to her spell book she gave the 'recipe' a quick once-over. Satisfied with that she smiled as she sprinkled some crystallised substance over the mix with a whispered incantation.

Buffy waited for something to happen... but nothing.

"Did it work?"

"Yep."

"H-how can you tell?"

Willow shrugged. "I just know."

-
-
-
-

"Done."

"Done?" Buffy's gaze flickered from Willow to Spike and back again.

"Well, er, it may take some time." Her friend smiled with a shrug and then seemed to remember something. "I'll leave you two alo - well, you know."

"Thanks, Will."

"No, problem." Willow glanced at Spike. "I think it's working." With that she left the room, closing the door to as she went.

Buffy sighed wearily, all the stress of the day beginning to tire her. (Has it really only been one day? No... It's been a lifetime.) Her eyes settled on Spike's form and she decided, with pleasant surprise, that Willow was right. The bruises on his face were still there but they had faded from black to a midnight blue in just a few seconds. The changes subtle but perceptible.

Instinctively she reached out and brushed his blood-caked hair back off his face, only to pull away with a start as she felt him stir. She became aware of her heartbeat quickening and forgot how to breathe as she watched him intently, waiting for another movement, no matter how small.

Nothing. Those eternities stretched out their tired muscles and Buffy decided she should do the same.

With another sigh, she felt her mind call 'time' and shut down for the day. (Enough. Too much.) She settled herself down next to him, watching his unflinching face until her eyelids could hold themselves open no longer and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

-
-
-
-

Swimming into consciousness, she was aware of his eyes on her before she was even aware of herself. Her body tensed as she summoned up the will to open her eyes and see him.

The blue of his irises was the first thing she saw and as their gazes locked, something struck through her body like a sliver of electricity. Tearing her eyes from his, she took in the rest of his face. The bruises had faded even further and now his face was coloured with shades of green, yellow and pale blue. She saw fingers come up to caress his cheek and took a moment to recognise them as her own. His eyelids fluttered to as she carefully traced the edges of his bruises, drawing an invisible pattern over his marred features. (Deja vu.) Bringing her fingers down his neck she rested her hand lightly against his chest.

He was looking at her again and there was something in his eyes she recognised: a pleading, an invitation. She understood and shifted her body against his, resting her head on his shoulder. He drew his arm around her momentarily, before letting it drop weakly round her back. She felt him suck in a sharp intake of air.

"Does this hurt... my head here?"

"Yes!" He hissed. "But don't you dare move."

She took a deep breath and inhaled him. His familiar scent mixed in with the unmistakable pungency of dried blood and something else, something putrid. She knew the smell but didn't have to energy to question it. Smiling slightly, she let the air out of her lungs with a long, shaky sigh while retaining the inherent comfort his smell gave her. Relaxing into him, she closed her eyes once again, the relief washing her with another wave of weariness.

-
-
-
-

He shifted slightly, wincing at every tiny movement. "...So I made it... Took me long enough."

"A day."

"Is that all it was? I felt like forever."

"I know."

Their eyes met again and one side of his mouth pulled up into a lop-sided smile, an irresistible smile. Leaning forward she pressed her lips against his, smiling into the kiss as she felt him respond, matching her lightness. As they parted she took one of his hands onto her lap and absently toyed with it.

"Glory, s-she told me you were dead." She didn't look up from his hand.

"Well, that's just evil." She still didn't look up but she could tell he was smiling, she could feel it. "I don't know which was worse, the really quite imaginative torture, or the incessant *yammering* about a bloody 'key'." Buffy's head shot up. "I thought, if she says that word one more time, I'm gonna -" He was stopped by the urgency of Buffy's expression. "What?"

"There's something you should know... A-about The Key... I-it's -"

"Dawn."

Her eyes widened with surprise the panic had surged through her before her common sense could inform her that Glory hadn't known.

"Wha - How did you know?"

He shrugged and obviously regretted the action. "Ow! Remind me not to do that again." A grin flitted over his scowling face, only to falter when Buffy's seriousness didn't abate. "I don't know, this 'Glory' bint was just prattling on and on and, all of a sudden, I just... knew. Like epiphany, you know? Bang!" He made an explosive gesture just in front of his face with his free hand.

"Bang?"

"Alright then, if you're gonna get all pedantic on me, maybe it was more of a quiet but profound click."

His eyes danced with mirth and Buffy smiled. She looked down to see that she was running her finger along the groove of his lifeline and frowned back up at him. (So many damn questions.) "Why didn't you tell Glory?"

His shrug was followed by another wince. "Din't occur to me."

"It 'didn't *occur* to you'?! It never occurred to you, while Glory was pummelling you into your component parts, that you should give her what she wanted?" She stared incredulously at him, her mind racing over all sorts of possibilities.

"It's precisely *because* she was getting all creative with the canvas of my body that I didn't give her what she wanted." His voice grazed against her nerves, it was so raw, so harsh... so alive.

"She thought she could see right inside of me with them fingers of hers," he pointed to a circular wound on his chest, "but she didn't know anything about me. She didn't realise that if I gave up Dawn, then I..." His voice wavered and he drew to a close, his eyes falling from hers.

"Go on." She had to hear this. She had to know.

He still didn't meet her eyes and she didn't force him to. After an eternity of silence, after she had begun to think, with regret, that she would never hear his voice again, he began again, with little more than a whisper. "W-when Drusilla left me, two years ago, I had one thought and it brought me back here... And then when she - after what happened, I had one thought that kept me alive, one thought and it keeps on bringing me back here."

He took a breath for his next sentence, only to let it out, unused. His eyes met hers and she was startled by the intensity of his stare, by what fuelled the intensity.

"All the time Glory had me, all I could think about... was getting back to you."


END PART ONE - PART TWO ->

Next