"I’ll get it," Dawn yelled to the three inhabitants in the living room.

"You're just trying to get out of putting the banner up," Willow called back.

"And it worked like a charm," the brunette muttered with a smirk before picking up the cordless from its base in the hall. "Summers residence."

"My aren't we uppity today," the familiar voice said. Dawn shivered from the sexuality that dripped from the tone.

"Well," she replied and desperately attempted to don the patented tone of teenage indifference. "Speak of the devil and he will appear."

"So, you were thinking about me." It was not a question.

"How do you figure?"

"Weeell, you did just say 'speak of the…"

"I know what I said, smart ass," Dawn retorted, knowing she was beaten.

"Touchy, Touchy." Dawn heard the smugness of the caller's voice and wanted nothing more than to…

"What did you say?" She demanded.

"I asked if it was, you know, that time of the…"

"If you even think about finishing that sentence, C.J., I will so kick your ass-"

"Dawn," Giles said, poking his head out in the hall. "Whose on the phone."

"Uh…Janice!" The teen replied a bit too eagerly and she crossed her fingers when she saw the fatherly scowl she had received from Giles much too often.

"I see," he said and the Key knew he was totally unconvinced. "Well tell, Janice that we will be needing your assistance with the rest of the decorations. Buffy and Spike will be back from the hospital within the hour."

"Uh, sure, yeah," she sputtered, nodding extra-emphatically. "We just have to talk about--her summer school assignment. I'll be there in two shakes," she finished and 'shooed' Giles away, much to his bemusement.

"Teenagers," the Brit muttered to himself before walking back into the living room.

"Old British Guy on ya again?" C.J. asked sympathetically.

"You can say that."

"So big sis is coming home today," C.J. said, changing the subject.

"Yep," Dawn said and her voice perked up instantly. "Bout damn time, too."

"Uh, sweetie, she was in a coma."

"Yeah, I know," Dawn replied. She was torn between sadness and excitement. The former was the pain in remembering how it felt to almost lose Buffy again and the latter--"Did you just call me 'sweetie'?"

"Did I?" C.J. asked nonplussed. They had been talking on the phone ever since the beach incident a few weeks back and not once in that time had he ever used such an affectionate term without a hint of teasing behind his words.

"That you did," the brunette replied, unable to hide her nervousness.

"Well I, uh…"

"Freudian slip?" She asked and could feel C.J. roll his eyes.

"Whatever, Kiddo."

"I am not a kid," she spat back.

"Sing me a new song, why don’t ya." C.J. cooed and chuckled when Dawn sighed dramatically into the phone. "So, when do I get an invite?"

"C.J.," Dawn said as if talking to a child, "I already told you. Spike would kill you if he knew how old you are. Of course, on the cosmic scale I am about a zillion times older than you," she said with the last part being to herself.

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing. And besides Spike, Buffy's getting back today and we don’t even have to mention Faith."

"Let's not," C.J. agreed, shuddering as he remembered the very serious, and creative, threats Faith had thrown to him one night she had discovered the two on the phone. C.J. had to admit that Faith--well, she was one intimidating chick.

"You're scared? Of a girl?" Dawn teased and giggled when C.J. huffed into the receiver.

"Whatever, Dawnie," he retorted sarcastically and was rewarded by the annoying whine of buttons being depressed. "And you say you aren't a kid."

"Bite me, C.J."

"All I'm looking for is the chance, sweetheart." Dawn flushed at the seductive tone and took several deep breaths before she tried to speak.

"So, I'll talk to you later?" She said, pleased that her voice did not totally give away her dignity.

"Just give me a call, if you want. I know it's a big deal, havin' Buffy back. You guys may want to catch up."

Dawn snorted. "The only thing Buffy's going to be catching up on is boinking Spike."

"And thank you for the imagery," Faith said and Dawn squealed in surprise, nearly dropping the phone.

"Is that the big bully?" C.J. asked.

"Yeah, it's her," Dawn replied as she held a palm over her racing heart.

"Well, let me get off here before…"

"Is that C.J.?"

"…she asks to speak to me…"

"Let me speak to him."

"…and threatens me with any more bodily harm."

"Dawn! Give me the phone."

"Okay, C.J. Talk to you later, bubye." And before Faith could snatch it away, Dawn pressed the off button. "So, what’s up?" She asked Faith cheerfully.

"You little biatch," Faith swore and crossed her arms, staring at her future Aunt scornfully. "You know I wanted to talk to him."

"Whatever," Dawn scoffed and walked towards the living room. "So you can tell him how you’re gonna bugger him with his own wanker if he hurts me? Get the overprotection enough Faith without my niece getting in on the act."

"A niece who is seven years your elder," the blonde remarked.

"Look," Dawn said, her eyes imploring, "we’re just friends, okay." On Faith’s less than believing glare, Dawn sighed. "Okay, so maybe I have a tiny crush on him. It’s not like we’re dating anyway."

"Remember, Dawn, it’s me you’re talking to; the same person who you were with last week when we ran into him in the mall. It’s not just a crush. Not for him and certainly not for you."

Dawn’s eyes brightened at Faith’s words and couldn’t help but tumble the older woman’s words back and forth.

"He-he likes me?" She whispered to Faith as if she were afraid the words would shatter the hope burgeoning in her chest.

Faith’s once intent scowl melted into a gentle smile. "How could he not, Dawn? I mean, look at you. You’re smart, witty and fun to be around-not to mention that you’re becoming one hot chica." They both chuckled at that before Faith sobered up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Dawn’s ear.

"But you’re only fifteen, Dawnie…"

"About to be sixteen."

"And he’s-what? -Nineteen? Twenty?"

"When Buffy was my age, her boyfriend was two centuries older than her. What’s the big about four years?"

Faith shrugged. "You got me there. Still, I don’t want you to get hurt-"

"I know," Dawn conceded, "but I can’t be protected all my life from things."

"Understood. Okay, here’s the deal; I get to threaten C.J. one more time and you get to tell Buffy and Spike about him."

"Do I have to?" The teen whined.

"It’s either that or they find out, ground you, then beat him down."

"Fine," Dawn grumbled and slunk back into the living room after Faith slung her arm around the teen’s shoulders.

"It’ll be okay, sweetie. You’ll see."

"As if. You and I both know that Buffy’s gonna hate this."

"No she won’t," Faith replied, her voice lacking any conviction. Oh, she’s gonna hate it, all right. She’s gonna hate it big time.

"Correction, Spike," Buffy said as he wheeled her through the halls, "I don’t hate this."

"You don’t?"

"I loathe it," she growled, folding her arms across her chest.

"It’ll be all right, luv," Spike said before he deposited a kiss to the back of her head. "We’ll be to the car in no time and you’ll be outta this soddin’ thing."

"I feel like such an invalid."

"Preachin to the choir, luv." On her sarcastic look, he snorted derisively. "You know what I mean, luv. Remember a particularly stuck up bint dropping a bloody hefty organ on my back some time ago."

Buffy ducked her head at the memory of that night in the church. Even though she and Spike were mortal enemies then, Buffy couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for putting Spike in that wheelchair for months. She shuddered at the passing thought of being trapped within your own body, unable to do for yourself and dependent on others for assistance. She wasn’t sure that she could have done it, not without going insane. It was yet another example of the strength her lover possessed.

Spike laid a hand on Buffy’s shoulder while the other continued pushing her forward. "Now, none of that, pet," he said, somehow knowing where her thoughts had led her. "You know very well that we were all with the mortal enemies bit then, no use feelin’ guilty over it."

"How did you…"

"Know? Simple really," he said and turned the corner that led to the parking garage. "Feel guilty myself for some of the things we did-said to each other back then. Makes no sense, considering what we were to each other."

"Equals," Buffy said prophetically.

"That we were."

"Still are, bleach boy," she said before reaching behind her and pinching his thigh.

"Oy!"

"And don’t you forget it."

"Trust me, Slayer, I won’t." The double doors slid open as they reached the exit. The de Soto was conveniently parked by the doors, much to the chagrin of a few people in the garage. Ignoring several sarcastic comments sent his way, Spike helped Buffy to her feet and into the car, surprised at her lack of protests. He hustled the wheelchair back into the hospital and jogged back out, sliding over the hood of the car.

"You are a nut," Buffy said when he closed the driver’s side door. "Do you know that? You are a grade-A nut."

"Coulda told you that, luv. Toothless vampire falls in love with his mortal enemy." He frowned. "Yep. William the Bloody; the epitome of nutcase."

"But I love my ‘nutcase’," Buffy cooed and pulled Spike across the seat and towards her, their lips meeting in a searing kiss.

Their tongues moved in a familiar dance, a dichotomous war of dominance and submission as hands roamed indiscriminately under clothing and across flesh. It was too much yet not enough and both realized that a simple kiss, however potent, would not satiate the hunger that burned through their bodies, culminating in a needful ache in their lower extremities.

Spike pulled away, albeit reluctantly, and smiled at the whine elicited by the slayer.

"Now none of that, pet," he whispered. His lips traced her jaw line before descending on her jugular. Buffy groaned at the contact and grabbed the lapels of Spike's duster as her need to have him against her, inside her, nearly overwhelmed her.

"Buffy," Spike murmured against her flesh and she shuddered at the poetic beauty his voice gave to her name. Even when she had felt as if nothing else was right in the world a few months back, Spike whispering her name was like an adrenaline shot to the heart, giving her the desire to live for those precious few hours they shared together. Now, she wanted to live more than ever and yet craved him all the same.

"Buffy," Spike repeated when the slayer's deft fingers crawled down his chest and settled on the hem of his jeans. It took a will power he never knew he possessed to reach down and grasp Buffy's wrist and pull it away from his raging hard-on. "Come now, pet," he said, all the while taking deep, unnecessary breaths.

"God, Spike," she whined, "I need you so bad. Want you so bad."

The vampire groaned and bit his lip to hold back a sob of frustration. "Cor, luv. Want you more than anything…oh God," he gasped when she bit down on his neck. Spike let go of her wrist and his own hands roamed the small figure in front of him.

"Buffy," he pleaded, "not here, luv."

"But I need you, baby," she begged as her small hands massaged the bulge in the front of his pants.

"I need you, too, pet." He forced her hands away gently and looked her in the eyes. His resolve nearly crumbled when he saw the naked longing in her shimmering hazel jewels but steadied himself. "I need you more than ever right about now, but we're in the middle of bleedin' garage and, as much as I want you, I don’t fancy Geriatric Joe over there finally getting a stiffy after a decade because he saw my woman's arse."

Buffy tried to give him the 'look' but Spike stuck his jaw out in determination. Seeing that he wasn't going to relent (and that, God help her, he was totally right), Buffy slouched in her seat, crossing her arms.

"Fine," she grunted.

Knowing that his control was razor thin, Spike put the de Soto in gear and peeled out of the parking lot, ignoring several guys who gave him thumbs up on the way out.

"Besides," he said after pulling onto the street, "you're probably knackered anyway."

"Whatever. You know we're gonna have to wait for awhile once we get home, don’t you?"

"Bugger that. We'll give the Scoobs a few hours o' face time with you and then you'll play the tired routine. I wait a spell before followin' you up and then--voila--we shag like bunnies."

"You think?" She asked and a her lips twisted in the slightest smile.

"Trust me, luv," Spike said and patted Buffy's leg. "Just trust me."

" 'Trust me', he said," Buffy whispered fiercely into Spike's ear. Alone time for the couple had yet to be discovered since they had walked through the door. Spike had let Buffy enter the premises first, smiling as he watched her walk to the door. Earlier that day, they had decided to give Buffy a 'Welcome Home' party. The living room was decorated with store bought banners of Welcome Back, Glad you're feeling better, to the more creative ones of Sunnyhell missed you and Can't keep a good Slayer down. Buffy didn’t see the decorations right away because, once through the door, she had been instantly bombarded by a gangle of feminine arms as Faith, Dawn, Willow and Tara enveloped her in a group hug. Tears were shed and the four had plopped down on the couch as Giles welcomed his slayer home. Spike had rushed in around that time, his blanket smoking and greeted the others. He had smiled inwardly to himself, counting the hours before he and Buffy could slip away from the prying eyes of family.

That was nearly seven hours ago. In that time, Buffy had been carted off with Giles and Faith for an hour, was subjected to Dawn's gossip and chatted in depth with Tara about the Wicca's back injury. Add the double movie feature and pizza party to the mix and one had a very frustrated vampire and slayer.

"Didn’t know they were gonna stick to you like a bloody second skin," Spike muttered and was promptly shushed by Faith.

"This is the best part," she informed the blonde duo before turning back to the television.

"I'll say," Spike said and planted a quick kiss on Buffy's neck. Such stolen gestures by the platinum blonde were the only things that kept the slayer afloat. Even during their make-out session in the car, Buffy still felt the grogginess of taking a two-month nap and the emotional homecoming didn’t help matters. She had trucked through the day, a tired energy pushing her forward and she had thought she would pass through the day unscathed. That is, of course, until Giles had taken her and Faith to the side to discuss the latter's dreams. When Buffy had asked the chat to be postponed until the next day, Giles had replied that he had a feeling that she at least hear it without the prying eyes of the others who knew about it already. Though she wasn’t too happy with being pulled away from Spike, Buffy had listened as Faith told her mother about the slayer dreams and with each passing description, a sliver of ice climbed up Buffy's spine. Though she had not thought about the dreams she had had during the coma all day, Faith's words awakened the visions that had plagued Buffy.

It took a Herculean effort for Buffy not to break down into tears at the memory of the things she had seen. After they had finished, she had instantly retreated to Spike, kissing him flushly in front of the others before she suggested the movie night.

Spike knew something had upset Buffy but decided not to pry. So he had sat for the past three and a half hours with the love of his unlife curled against his side and endured the torture of having her so close yet unable to express his love towards her properly.

"That bone sword-slash-whip is kinda cool," Buffy said and stifled a giggle when Faith's shoulders tensed in excitement as the final conflict in Brotherhood of the Wolf reached its pinnacle.

"Wasn't talkin bout that, luv," Spike said and deftly squeezed her boob before his hand returned to its idle position on her left shoulder. Buffy surprised him by not jumping and he whispered in her ear, "Movie's almost over--and you know what that means?"

If the words were said by anyone else, Buffy would have dismissed them. But the way they rolled of Spike's tongue--she shivered at the sensuality of his tone and the promise it hinted out. Damn him, she thought. He could probably make eating tofu sound sexy. The slayer's body perked up as warm desire slowly started to build within her, erasing the bad memories of the earlier conversation with Giles and Faith as well as the residual sluggishness from inaction. Oh, she had enough energy to…

The buzz of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts and Buffy sighed.

"Who the bloody hell," Spike muttered and glared at the door when a knock disturbed the group.

"I wonder who that could be at this hour," Giles said.

"Maybe they have the wrong house," Willow offered and continued to stroke Tara's hair.

"Th-that could be," the blonde Wicca replied.

"Or," Dawn said and threw another kernel of popcorn in her mouth, "it could be a hoard of demons that want us dead yet have the decency to knock instead of bursting down the door and sending our homeowners insurance through the stratosphere."

"I'm so sure," Buffy replied sarcastically. Dawn's reply was to stick out her tongue and hurl a kernel at her big sister. Buffy caught it in her hand and popped the corn into her mouth before scowling triumphantly.

"Well," Faith said, motioning to get up, "only one way to find out."

"That's okay, 'let," Spike said and dislodged himself from Buffy's petite form. They both groaned at the loss of contact and everyone but Giles gave the blonde duo a bemused look. "I'll get it. Scare away the buggers."

"I'll help you," Buffy said eagerly and hopped off the couch. Spike offered her a smug smirk before she shooed him towards the door.

"No boinking in front of company," Dawn called to the retreating couple.

"Thank you Dawn for that reminder," Giles scoffed and removed his glasses. "As if a certain redhead's 'Thy will be done' spell didn’t give me enough nightmares."

Willow ducked her head sheepishly. "That was a long time ago," she huffed before burying her head in the crook of Tara's neck.

"Just couldn’t stand to be away from me, eh, luv?" Spike said and pulled Buffy close to him. His back was towards the living room, shielding them if prying eyes decided to investigate.

"You know I can't," Buffy replied and smiled when Spike's eyes widened in shock. "Didn’t think I'd tell you the truth, did ya?"

"That I didn't, pet. But enough words. C'mere," he ordered and Buffy gasped as he crushed his lips to hers. His tongue invaded her mouth as his hands cupped her butt and it was all that she could do not to wrap her legs around his waist. Instead, she dropped her hands to the bulge that pressed intimately against her stomach and squeezed. Spike growled at the stimulation of her hands against his throbbing erection and Buffy smirked in satisfaction.

Spike broke away first and leaned his forehead against hers. The sound of her heartbeat was a soothing melody to him, matching her enchanting vanilla scent and goddess-like beauty. And the way she felt in his arms--Cor!

"That's cheating, you know," he told her as they both panted for breath.

"I remember you saying that before," she teased, "and you didn’t mind it then, either."

"Yeah, and I bloody well kicked you out o' the crypt, too, didn’t I?"

"Which was very mean, by the way." Spike sighed when Buffy's lips jutted out.

"Stop with the pouting, luv, 's really not fair."

"I'd hate to interrupt your little soiree," Giles called from the living room, "but it would be nice if you stopped whomever is outside from ringing the bloody doorbell."

The two blondes couldn’t help but laugh at the watcher's exasperation and Spike's hand reached for the door.

"Guess we forgot the part about answering the door, huh?" Buffy asked as her hand covered his on the handle.

"Guess so. But considering I had you in my arms, 's understandable."

"Awww," Buffy cooed and kissed him on the cheek before she pulled back and scrutinized the blue eyes that gazed so lovingly back at her. "You aren't just trying to butter me up for later, are you?"

"Maybe," he said. "Gotta get all the time I can with you lest you come to your senses and get yourself a real bloke." Though his tone was joking, Buffy heard the serious undercurrent of his words.

He still thinks I'm gonna change my mind, she thought sadly and wondered if there was any way to convince him otherwise.

"Spike," she said and slid her arm around his hip, "you know I love you."

"For now," he muttered and opened the door.

Anger coursed through Buffy at Spike's flippant tone. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I love…" just as she was about the finish, the door flew open to reveal the last person she expected to see.

"…Angel?"

TBC…

Chapter 10

It was an easy kill.

The three had been in Sunnydale for the past two years and together a few years before that as well. Though Gideon was the only one in the trio more than a decade into the immortal life, the other two were cunning and resourceful. Those were the only reasons they had stayed alive this long, in a town owned by the slayer. As well as they worked together they knew to stay away from the slayer and her gang, using the outskirts of town as their hunting grounds, away from prying eyes. But tonight they had made one of their infrequent visits to the cemetery. Heberly.

They had followed the young black man for the better part of an hour, making noises here and there, relishing in the fear that scorched his face every time he looked back. They were waiting, biding their time until he panicked and ran; that was when his blood would be the sweetest. And oh, would it be sweet.

Even from the dozen yards separating them from the boy, they could tell that he was an athlete. His black shirt clung to the muscles in his back and arms and though his slightly baggy jeans hid the strength of his legs, the young man's gait was that of a runner. And before this night was over, they would make him run before tearing him down. Or that had been the plan.

"I'm tired of this, Gideon," the smallest of the trio, Kyle, whispered.

"Kyle's right, G," the pug-nosed Marco agreed.

Gideon stopped and stared at his two minions. No, that was not the right word for them. For the most part, he treated them as equals. Kyle had been with him the longest. He had sired the former computer nerd six years ago in Ohio on his cross-country jaunt out the West Coast. They had traveled a few years before meeting Marco in a San Antonio bar. Where Kyle was weak yet crafty, Marco was powerful and somewhat dim. They were the perfect compliment to one another and Gideon had planned it that way. They were the brothers he never had and, though on occasion, he had been forced to dominate them, Gideon had always allowed them to have some say in things and, he found, on occasion that they sometimes had the right idea.

Like now.

"You're right, Marco," he said and fixed the larger man with a withering glare. "And after we are done with him, I will demonstrate to you reason number forty-two why you should refrain from calling me 'G'." The larger vampire nodded, swallowing reflexively at his sire's promise. Oh, yeah, he was buggered tonight--quite literally. Aside from his habit of calling his Sire ‘G’, Marco had rarely needed to be reminded of who the boss really was. Guess tonight’ll be another spectacular reminder, he thought fearfully. But, on the bright side, at least he would have some decent blood in his veins before that happened.

"Kyle," Gideon said as he watched the boy retreat into the distance, "stay behind him. Marco; take him on the left and I'll come in on the right." He faced his two Children and vamped out; they instantly followed suit and their golden irises glowed eerily in the darkness.

"Chow time, my boys," he said to the others and, with a nod, they split up.

They never saw the cocky grin on the young man's face as he followed them, his senses attuned to their every move. They never heard his eager whisper of "Showtime" the instant before they pounced. And it was not until the glint of silver arching through the air did they realize that this unsuspecting young man was much more than that. And before they could react, it was far too late. They had had been right about one thing, however.

It was an easy kill.

Three to be exact.

*&*

He parked three blocks away from Revello Drive knowing that the loud thrum of the van's engine would have been a dead giveaway on the quiet street and Dawn's head would have been the first out the window. No, he'd much rather walk the residential streets, taking comfort in the quiet chirp of insects in the bushes as his mind wandered over the past.

Xander stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hunter green jacket as he followed the path towards a house that was more of a home to him than the domicile of his younger years. The people that lived there now were more family than his dysfunctional brood ever could be.

And how do I repay them? He asked himself bitterly as he passed Mercury Place. By running off on them, like the coward I've always been.

But didn’t Buffy do the same thing? Another voice spoke up but it was quashed by the overwhelming guilt that coursed through him at the thought of his closest friend after Willow.

I left. I left while she was still in the hospital, fighting for her life. And I--I didn’t even give it a second thought. His footsteps slowed as the self-loathing, the one that had driven him to leave in the first place reappeared, threatening to crush him despite the superhuman abilities that coursed through his veins.

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and let out a hoarse laugh. The insecurities that danced in his mind were the same ones that had propelled him out of Sunnydale. As much as Anya’s death had affected him, Xander would never have left with Buffy and Tara hospitalized if he had thought that he was an asset to the group. But he hadn’t been and so he didn’t stay. But he would this time. Diohbin-Zi had said that something big was coming and Xander would be needed for the upcoming battle and that was why the brunette was here.

This isn’t about my feelings or failures, Xander resolved. This is about what I’m here to do; and that’s to help the others…

His determination returned and his steps quickened. As he rounded to corner and found himself on Revello, however, two things happened simultaneously. Directly in his line of sight, walking up the steps were three distinctly familiar figures he hadn’t seen in years.

Angel, with his black leather coat swaying as he walked up the steps, was in the lead followed by two very recognizable brunettes.

Cordelia was off to Angel’s left as he stopped to ring the doorbell and Faith, the rogue slayer, was to the right. Both were decked in black outfits similar to the vampire and, though he could not see the other two clearly, the rogue slayer’s face was twisted in a scowl of concentration.

The only thing that prevented Xander from moving forward was the unexpected chill that shot up his spine. He whirled around, his crimson eyes blazing as they cut through the darkness. Despite his enhanced vision, he could not find an immediate danger in the vicinity but the extreme unease refused to go away.

“What the hell?” He whispered before the pull on his spine caused his body to spasm momentarily. His mind whirled for explanation but was unable to find anything. He had trained for three years and had never felt such a violent pull on his senses. It was something-something powerful and unequivocally evil.

“Whatever it is has to be stopped,” he said and spun on his heels. With a final look over his shoulder, he apologized to his friends before darting back to his van. Whatever the creature was giving off such strong vibes, it needed to be taken down and Xander was going to make sure of that.

After all, there was a reason he had been christened the Executioner.

*&*

Similar to Spike, Buffy had always taken pride in her ability to quip with the best of them. It wasn't often that she didn’t have a rejoinder strapped to her hip, ready to go at a moment's notice. Whether facing the Master, a hell god or the general babblings of the "First Evil", Buffy's mouth was usually in tiptop shape, her greatest one-liners coming in the most dangerous of times.

Now, that wasn’t to say that there were times when her quippy quotes were nowhere to be found. Killing Angel was one of those times. Sending the love of one's life to hell tends to suck anyone's witty repertoire dry. And then, to her surprise, she could remember several instances with Spike where his presence took the words right out of her mouth. Shagging a total hot body after spending fifteen minutes wailing on his undead, soulless ass was another shining example of a slayer stupefied into silence.

Standing in the open doorway with her first love staring holes through her and her current paramour would definitely be added to that list of 'most uncomfortable situations ever'.

"Buffy," Angel said curtly as his gaze traveled between Buffy and his Childe. Ever since Faith had slipped up about Spike and Buffy's relationship, Angel had put it out of his mind as best he could, meditating and sparring to pass the time without even bothering with sleep. Though on the surface the mere thought of Buffy and Spike together was absurd, a reluctant part of him could admit to the possibility of an attraction between the two blondes. But now, as he faced both of them, taking in the slightly swollen appearance of Buffy's lips and the telltale scent of arousal, Angel knew that it wasn’t just a possibility.

It was a Goddamn reality.

"Angel," Buffy replied mechanically. She stared at the man who had, so long ago, had given her that first taste of love and, not long afterwards, her first bitter heartbreak. And now, as she gazed into Angel's furious brown eyes, Buffy couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Why do I always feel like I'm doing something bad when he's around? She asked herself. When she had told him about Riley, drawing it out unnecessarily to rub it in his face, Buffy had felt a stab of guilt. It wasn’t for how she told him (although she could admit to being a major bitch in that instance) but the fact that she was carrying on with someone else. It had taken her months to get over the voice that constantly whispered to her about how she was cheating on Angel. And now, three years later, that same guilt wound its way through her insides. But this time it didn’t last long, dissipating as she heard the annoyed (and hurt?) voice of Spike address his Sire.

"What do you want, Peaches?" Angel's gaze turned towards the bleached blonde and Buffy had to hold in the sigh of relief that threatened to slip out as Angel turned his attention elsewhere.

The two vampires stared at each other; their fists clenching and unclenching as the tension between them escalated with each passing second. Buffy chanced a look at Spike and cringed when she saw the muscle in his jaw spasm several times. This is so not of the good, she said to herself and moved to slither in between them but the last person in the world she expected to see beat her to the punch.

"Angel," Faith said and pushed past the stiff vampire. "How many times do I have to tell you to cut the macho shit? We don’t have time for it."

"Faith?" Buffy whispered in disbelief. Seeing her sister slayer in living color after two years temporarily numbed Buffy's emotions. Her hazel eyes took in Faith's petite form. From the look of things, she appeared no different. She held a little more weight around the face but her hair and wardrobe hadn't changed one bit.

"Hey, B," Faith said, finally turning to face the blonde. She purposely leaned against Angel, hoping to calm the anger radiating from him. She smiled at Buffy and tried to hide the nervousness infecting every part of her. "Long time no see."

"Not long enough," the blonde replied, noticing that her words were not nearly as harsh as she wanted them to be. "What are you doing here?" She inched towards Spike and discreetly brushed her knuckles across the back of his hand and was relieved when much of the tension drained from his body. The tension migrated to her, however, when she saw the murderous glint in Angel's eyes return and Faith's lopsided smirk. Okay, so she needed to work on being discreet.

"So this is the stud muffin from my dreams," Faith said, ignoring Buffy's question and her eyes perused Spike's lithe form. She pursed her lips, whistling silently before staring into cobalt jewels that shimmered with anger, fear, loathing and amusement. Not liking the other three in the least, Faith decided to play on the latter. "Much better in person."

Spike smirked at the small woman in front of him. There was something about her that called to him--a kindred spirit in the wild. He could see the animalistic will through her dark eyes and Spike couldn’t help but take an instant liking to this woman.

"So I'm told, pet," he said and jumped when all the heat was sucked out of the room and was focused on the right side of his face. Stupid git, he cursed and turned to Buffy. Not to his surprise, the searing heat from her gaze pinned him into a corner and the vampire was thankful that a stake was nowhere to be found.

Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she had been so furious at someone. The cavalier way that he and Faith were flirting had the slayer wanting to dust the vampire by her side and pummel that little sexy grin from the lips of the woman in front of her. A part of her knew that she was overreacting, that Spike would never do anything with any other woman but coupled with Faith past behavior towards her boyfriends and the slayer dreams of the past few days, the irrational side of Buffy refused to be talked down. When she turned back to the other slayer, Buffy's reveled in the return of the anger and dislike she still harbored towards the brunette.

"I will ask you one more time, Faith, and you have three seconds to answer." Her eyes briefly flickered to Angel's before settling back on the intended victim of her rage. "After that, I'm slamming the door in your face. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" She punctuated every word with a small step forward until she and the other woman were nose to nose. She smiled inwardly when Faith's smirk disappeared and was replaced by an almost fearful scowl.

"B," Faith started and the reformed slayer felt her confidence waver. She opened her mouth to speak again but was stopped by a powerful hand grasping her shoulder gently before pushing her out of the way.

"Buffy," Angel said and stepped between the two slayers. “That’s enough.”

"I don’t have time for this," the slayer spat and whirled around just as she felt a hand clasp her firmly around the wrist.

"Buffy," Angel pled, "just listen for a minute."

"I'd watch those hands if I were you, mate," Spike said, making himself known once again. He grabbed Buffy's forearm and deliberately pulled her arm out of Angel's grasp before fixing the elder vamp with a gaze that both slayers shivered at.

"We don’t have time for this, Spike," Angel said and took a step forward. Spike pressed his hand against the bigger man's chest and held back the demon inside that cried for freedom.

"Don’t take another step, mate."

Angel slapped the younger vampire's hand away. "Or what?" He glowered.

Spike flashed a deadly smirk before taking a step towards Angel as the two mimicked the slayer standoff from moments before. "Or you'll find out why I'm this town's original Big Bad."

Buffy and Faith traded looks of apprehension at the scene unfolding before them. It was no secret that the two vampires hated each other but the women had not fathomed the sheer depth of the animosity until now. If the vampires started brawling now, even two slayers would be hard pressed to break up the fight before it reached a dusty conclusion.

Buffy was the first to realize this and, catching Faith's eye, she nodded to the brunette. The latter took the hint and reached her hand up towards Angel before she was pushed aside by a third figure.

"For the love of God, you two!" Cordelia shouted as she bull-rushed her way between the two vampires. "Will you quit with the fucking pissing contest.” Her eyes turned to Angel and the vampire had the intelligence to step back. "Mr. Caveman, Faith told you that you could stay home if you were going to act like such a moron."

"But he started it," Angel protested weakly.

"Of course he did," Cordelia said dryly. "He was the one that was shooting daggers at his ex because he caught her in the aftermath of a kissage fest behind the door with her new beau before putting his hands on her in front of said beau." She turned towards Spike and opened her mouth to speak but turned back to Angel instead. "Oh, I forgot; that was you." Angel had the grace to look sheepish and the other three fought to hide their grins as the former Prom Queen put the two hundred and fifty year old vampire in his place.

"As much as I'm lovin' this Cor," Faith interrupted, biting her lip to keep her grin at bay, "we do have things to discuss." She turned towards Buffy and sighed at the distrust in the other woman's eyes. "B, we need to talk."

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and eyed the brunette suspiciously. "So talk."

"Can we come in?"

"Buffy?" Giles called as he walked into the foyer. "Is there a problem?"

"You could say that," the slayer replied, never taking her eye off of Faith.

"What is the…Good lord," the watcher exclaimed. "Faith?"

"In the flesh," she said and threw a sad smile at the Brit.

"What's going on?" Giles demanded as he unhinged the cage holding Ripper into place, in case the latter was needed.

"That's what we're trying to find out, Rupes," Spike said and turned to Buffy. "Let 'em through, pet." At her astonished look, Spike laid his hands on her shoulders and fixed her with a wry smile. "You know that if I had my way, Peaches'd be stuck out there all night, preferably after getting a good old arse kickin' by yours truly before the sun finished the poofter off." He chuckled inside when his Sire bristled angrily. "But this Faith chit here is right, something is going down. You saw it. Bitlet saw it. And since she's like you two, then in all likelihood, she's seen it too. And as bad as it may be, havin' three slayers on the job's gonna tip the scales in our favor, wouldn’t you say?"

As angry as Buffy was at everything that had happened in the past five minutes, she couldn’t help but smile at the comforting voice of her lover. How does he do that? She wondered. No matter how bad things are, he can do this--make me feel so much better. Buffy raised her arms and covered his hands with hers before sliding them off her shoulders. She stared at him pointedly, giving him a tired smile before squeezing his hands firmly.

"I hate it when you're right," she muttered before dropping his hands and returning an icy gaze towards Faith. "Is he right? Did you see what's coming, too?" The other woman shivered and hugged herself tightly. The ice that was between them was melted as Buffy took in the now shaken woman. She saw it, all right. And if it shakes Faith, then it's bad. Buffy glanced over her shoulder past the stoic watcher and towards the living room. I just hope it's not as bad as what me or Bitlet saw.

"So," Cordelia said, tapping her foot, "are you gonna let us in already?" Buffy couldn’t hold back the chuckle at Cordy's bluntness.

"I see some things don’t change," she muttered to herself before stepping aside, pulling Spike with her. "Come one, come all." Cordelia smiled and pulled Buffy into a short but warm embrace before striding towards Giles. Angel followed her and didn’t hesitate in giving his Childe a hostile glare before moving on into the living room. Buffy sighed in relief when Spike didn’t rise to the bait and she turned her attention towards Faith.

Buffy read the discomfort in Faith's gait as she stepped over the threshold, her arms still wound tightly around her. She nodded towards the brunette and let Faith past, following her closely as Spike shut the door. She almost ran into Faith when the other slayer stopped, turned around and gave Buffy a confused look.

"Did he say "three slayers"?" Faith asked, nodding towards Spike.

Despite everything, Buffy found herself flashing a smile at the woman in front of her. Surprising herself with the gesture, Buffy patted Faith on the shoulder before escorting the brunette forward. "I see we have quite a bit to talk about."

TBC…

It didn’t take long for Xander to locate the disturbance. After loading himself up with weapons he allowed his instincts to take over and they had led him to Shady Groves cemetery. Nestled between Heberly and the factory district, Shady Groves wasn't the largest cemetery though it did house several crypts that vampires had often used as nests. This threat, however, had nothing to do with vampires and when he reached the middle of the cemetery grounds, ducking a slab of concrete hurled at his head, Xander wished it were as simple as a few vamps.

He spun around to face his attacker and took an involuntary step backwards at the sight of the beast. It was at least seven and a half feet tall with muscles bulging from its shirtless torso. It's skin was the darkest of purples and was covered with an assortment of protrusions. It wasn’t until he peered closer that Xander discerned what those protrusions were and he shivered at the knowledge.

Its flesh was a canvas of blue and crimson veins that throbbed with a maniacal intensity as the wind caressed them. The moon reflected off the numerous piercings that the creature possessed. Aside from the veins, it chest was littered with chain-like links and its arms were skewered from wrists to elbows by metal spikes. Another curved spike was embedded through its nose, a disturbing compliment to the grayish tusks that protruded from the sides of its mouth.

"Wow," Xander said as he circled the beast. "That must have hurt."

"You have no idea," the demon replied, its voice like a guttural snarl. "Every step I take, I feel it. Every time the wind blows across my skin, I feel it. Every time I am touched, I feel it. My life is one of pain and it is something that I will never be rid of it." It stopped circling and pinned Xander with half crazed eyes.

"And you know what?" It asked, a horrible smile surfacing through the tusks and piercings of its face. "I love every minute of it."

"Well, then," Xander replied after several seconds, "why don’t I put you out of your misery." He withdrew his silver sword from the scabbard on his back and relaxed his body before getting into his battle ready samurai stance.

"But I like the misery," it replied and, faster than the brunette could have guessed, it attacked.

*&*

"I'm gonna need a massage after tonight, thanks to you," C.J. said to the pile of dust sprinkling to the ground. Re-sheathing the blade in the scabbard attached to his forearm, C.J. rotated his neck clockwise several times, grunting as the bones popped.

This last fight had been a close one. It wasn't as if being a hairsbreadth from death was new to him. It was one of the many hazards he took in fighting evil on a nightly basis. But after easily repelling a coordinated attack by three vampires, taking one down should have been easy but the twin punctures just above his collarbone and the bruised ribs were a testament to the perils of 'should have'.

"Another ruined shirt, thank you very much," he said dryly after examining where he had landed on a tombstone. The stone had cut through the shirt and his skin and, in all honesty, C.J. had no clue as to why his ribs weren't broken. Of course, he was always taught to never frown upon the 'whys' of good fortune but take it as it is--good fortune.

And this was definitely good fortune, he thought as he walked through the cemetery. A delicious wave of pain crept up his entire right side at every step. Not only were his ribs bruised but his knee had slammed into the marker as well. Not to mention the little river of blood spilling into my eye. Taking the sleeve of his shirt, C.J. dabbed again at the cut over his left eye, trying to staunch the blood flow without much success. He shook his head, disgusted that he had been so careless in the last fight. The last vampire had disarmed him on two separate occasions and it wasn't the first time that C.J. had questioned his resolve not to carry a stake. On the rare occasions that he had, the dusty conclusions were always a lot faster albeit not as satisfying as decapitation.

It really must be a guy thing, he thought wryly and smiled in relief when the cut above his eye ceased bleeding. Although the cut would be more or less healed in the next day or two, along with his ribs, C.J. knew that they required dressing as soon as he got home. And that meant that he'd be better off all-around calling it a night. He hadn't reached his quota of six kills but there was always tomorrow.

"Don’t be an idiot, Ced," he muttered to himself, "you need to take at least one night off." Since coming to Sunnydale six months ago, C.J. had rarely taken a break from hunting, always too concerned about a repeat of Ohio; especially after meeting Dawn. Ever since the literal run-in with her at the beach several weeks ago, C.J. couldn’t get the teenage brunette out of his mind. He had asked for her number that first day and she had told him, though she had given him strict instructions to call only between the hours of one and three unless otherwise noted. He had laughed at that but one look in those beautiful obsidian eyes of hers and he had acquiesced. In truth, she could have asked him to streak across the beach and he would have happily obliged. He really didn’t understand what it was about her that drew him in so deep but he was powerless to fight it and wasn't about to try. Even if she was only fifteen, C.J. had no doubts that he wanted to be with her and protecting her, even if she did have Faith as her damn bodyguard, was number one on his list of priorities. The only way he knew how to do that was eliminating as many demons as possible every night.

And that was how the all-nighters of the past couple of weeks had begun.

Hunts that generally lasted three to five hours routinely extended beyond seven and sleep consisted of two-hour naps before going to work or sometime during the day. He stalked as many cemeteries and back alleys as he could in that given time, staying out of the way of the others that fought the good fight as well. Oh, he knew he wasn't alone in the fight. On several occasions in the past few months he had come across two blondes, one male and one female, who policed the graveyards. The first time he had seen them fight he knew that they had been gifted just as he had. C.J. had come close to introducing himself more than once but something had always kept him away. Eventually, he had given up, resigning fate to have them cross his path. If and when that occurred he would deal but until then, he would do his thing while they did theirs.

Taking a shortcut through Shady Groves, C.J.'s thoughts were filled with Dawn and, as he neared the exit to the street, the distinct sounds of combat garnered his attention.

"It's probably the blonde duo again," he said to himself but was inextricably drawn to the clamor in the distance. After a minute of skulking between headstones and behind shrubbery, he spotted the two combatants. Hiding behind a bush, C.J. watched the two fighters attack one another relentlessly. The large demon, a thing of the likes he had never seen, was obviously besting the smaller man. The gait of the man was that of a punch-drunk fighter. He could barely keep his feet and the large gash across his forehead and the limp arm hanging at his side was evidence enough for C.J. to know that the fight was drawing to an inevitable end.

"Looks like I get to play hero again," he whispered and slowly withdrew his blade. Keeping low to the ground and behind tombstones when he could, C.J. crept up on the two fighters. He winced when the smaller man was thrown through a headstone and was amazed when he immediately got to his feet. For a moment it appeared that the collision had invigorated the man and C.J. watched in awe as the man put together a string of kick and punch combos that would have felled any other demon C.J. had seen in Sunnydale. But there was no doubt that this was no ordinary demon. After a particularly vicious spinning back kick that dropped it to one knee, the creature wiped its mouth and laughed--laughed! --Before slowly rising to its feet. Though the determination never left the other man's eyes, it was clear to C.J. that the man was out of ideas.

"Guess I should've brought my shotgun, huh?" C.J. heard him say.

"It would not have helped you, little man," the demon grunted and dug a hard right into the man's body. He gasped before falling to his knees, his good arm keeping him from falling face-first into the ground. The demon circled the man arrogantly as if waiting for the perfect opening to end it. C.J. knew he had to act but something held him back.

"Not even your puny slayer would have been able to help you," the demon said and chuckled grotesquely. The comment had an immediate impact on the man and C.J. almost gasped when he saw the man's eyes burn crimson.

"Don’t you go near her. Don’t you go near, Buffy," he growled. Buffy? C.J. thought. Buffy? That's Dawn's sister. Wha--what the hell is going on?

C.J. was torn from the questions bombarding his mind when he heard the downed man scream. The demon's foot ground into the other man's hand and C.J. cringed. What the hell am I doing standing here? I need to get the hell over there. He started to move but stopped when he heard the demon's gravelly voice speak again.

"Don’t worry," it said, "your little slayers are free from my wrath. Gabriel wants them all to himself. But you, on the other hand, are mine." It grabbed the man roughly by the back of his neck and pulled him towards its mouth. "Now it's time for you to feel my pain." C.J. stared at the scene as the demon knelt in front of this man--was he just a man? --And, for whatever reason, C.J. knew exactly what was going to happen.

"He'll never survive," C.J. whispered just as the demon opened its maw incredibly wide. Without a second thought, C.J. sprung from behind a headstone and dashed over to the downed man. He knew he wasn’t going to get there in time, so he yelled out the first thing that came to mind.

" Algolagniar, no!" At the sound of its name, the demon whirled around, its chest heaving in anticipation of the kill. His blade balanced in one hand, C.J. stopped just out of reach of the creature. The adrenaline flowing through his veins escalated as his eyes roamed over the hideous flesh of the creature before him.

As much as he was horrified by the demon's appearance, C.J. was dumbstruck by the void that greeted him when he glanced into its eyes. They weren't black as night or obsidian in shade. They were nothing. It was like looking into an empty void of space where only evil could survive. But that wasn’t the only thing. C.J. could feel his body being pulled by some destructive energy towards the demon. He resisted, of course, but it was at the price of a growing discomfort that spread throughout his frame.

What the fuck is going on? Feels like I'm on fire. He wanted to slash at the creature but the pain he felt coupled with its proximity to the downed man would only hinder C.J. and more than likely get them both killed. No, he needed to maneuver it away from the injured man. But how?

His question was answered when, quite abruptly, the demon dropped the man to the ground and stood. C.J. stared up at the hulking mass in apprehension. Even on a good day I'd have trouble with this thing, he thought, but with me sporting bruises and probably cracked ribs…I'm fucked.

He bounced on the balls of his feet as the creature approached, willing, if only for a few moments, the pain and fear away. His concentration was broken, however when, instead of attacking, the demon regarded him with a curious expression. It stroked its chin as if in thought, cocking its head from side to side as it took stock of the man in front of it. Out of nowhere, the demon staggered back and C.J. braced himself as its hands dropped to its sides, clenching and unclenching into fists and its breath coming in jagged gasps.

"It…it cannot be," it growled in disbelief. "Y-you are dead. Gabriel…he told us. You're dead."

"Well, obviously you guys don’t know me very well," C.J. replied with a confidence he didn’t feel. "Didn’t you get the memo? I can't die." Knowing he wouldn’t get another opportunity, C.J. launched himself at the demon, his heel slamming into its neck.

The demon collapsed in a heap as it held its hand to its neck. C.J. followed up the attack with a hook to the temple. His right hand came around to slash at the demon but it blocked the strike with its hand. As soon as their flesh made contact, C.J. screamed and staggered away from the downed behemoth. For a brief moment his arm felt as if it had been dipped in acid and he wanted nothing more than to cut it from his body. As soon as it began, however, the rabid agony lowered to a throbbing pain. But it was still too much and he knew he had to get out of her before the demon got back to its…

"Too late," he said as the moonlight disappeared behind the monstrous beast.

"You injured me," the demon said, its face expressionless. "And for that, you will pay."

C.J. had no doubt that he was in way over his head but there was no quit in the young man. Garnering all the courage he had, C.J. winked at the creature before his smirk fell into place. He positioned himself between the demon and the dazed man still on the ground. Shrugging his shoulders, he beckoned the demon with one hand while holding his silver blade high in the air. What did the Joker say? If you gotta go, go with a smile.

Swallowing a deep breath, C.J. licked his lips. "Bring it," he said and, with a thunderous roar, charged.

TBC…

Next