The silence was deafening. If someone had cared to drop a pin, the resulting noise would have had an echo.

"My heart's beating," Spike repeated, staring into Buffy's eyes, his voice shocked and shaking.

"Are you sure?" Willow asked. "I mean, it's been awhile."

"'Course I'm sure." Spike's free hand clutched at his chest. "It's thumpin' away in here like ... a big thumpy thing."

"He's right," Buffy said quietly. She tightened her hold on his hand and entwined their fingers. "We're still linked. I can feel it too."

"Well, this is highly unusual," Giles huffed. "You realize that I'll have to contact the Council now. This is beyond my capacity."

Spike abruptly began to panic. "I'm not human. Am I? I can't be human. I don't wanna be human again."

"We don't know what this means yet so don't fall apart on me," Buffy warned. He felt a calming wave flow over him via their link. "We still have Drusilla to deal with."

"Yeah right. Not being alarmist or anything, but heart beating here! That's all fine and dandy when you're alive. But then the old ticker stops. Dead. And it's not so bloody funny." He gazed at her earnestly. "Slayer, I'm gonna die!"

"You're not."

"I could pop off at any second. Pow! No more Spike!"

"So could I," Buffy smiled. "It's a mortal thing."

"Human. Mortal. Same difference." Spike looked like he was about to bolt. "Either way it's completely unwanted. Make it stop."

Buffy lifted their joined hands and frowned at them. "You're getting all warm."

"Oh bloody hell!" Spike tried to pull away but she held firm. They exchanged an exasperated glare.

"The Serpiente has most likely reached its permanent phase," Giles was muttering. "I don't suppose that it's ever been established between a vampire and a Slayer before. The resumption of the heartbeat is presumably a incidental result of that bond."

Spike turned to Xander. "Sorry about that earlier comment mate," he said dryly. "Looks like the Watcher swallowed his own thesaurus."

"Yeah," Xander finally found his voice. He was still a bit thrown by the sight of Buffy holding hands with Spike - and enjoying it. He peered anxiously at Giles. "What's up with the lingo G-man?"

"I have told you repeatedly not to call me that!" Giles snapped.

Anya glowered. "That was rude," she said. She smiled brightly at Spike. "I'm very happy that you're now a member of the ex-demon club."

"I'm not an ex-demon," Spike whined. "I'm still me. Big Bad evil vampire. You should all be trembling in fear."

"Go tell that to someone who doesn't know any better," Buffy said. She let herself indulge in the intensity of their link for a moment. "There's no evil intent here," she whispered into his mind.

Spike blushed. He could feel the heat rising and was helpless to stop it.

"That's so cute!" Willow gushed. She and Tara shared a smile.

Spike was wishing fervently for the ground to open up and suck him in. The only upside to the situation was that Buffy had opened the link between them. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced, and he'd been around for a long time.

There were a profusion of thoughts and feelings projecting from her, but he could sense amid the flow that she was struggling with something and a considerable amount of her energy was tied into that one inner contest. He had a suspicion that he was at the center of the conflict and the thought buoyed him. It was, after all, the place where he was most at home.

"Look," he said. "Someone had better clue me in to what's up. Not as thrilled about this as the rest of you seem to be." He glanced at his and Buffy's joined hands. Well, there you go - there was his silver lining. He gave her fingers a little squeeze.

Buffy graced him with a beatific smile and returned the pressure so intently that his knuckles cracked. All right, so she still wasn't entirely happy with him. He got that.

"I just informed you all that I would have to contact the Council," Giles groused. "I take it no one was listening."

"Only about as much as we usually do," Willow said. "Which I guess is not a lot." She winced sympathetically. "Sorry."

"Hello? Vampire with a heartbeat!" Spike waved his free hand and then paused, considering. "Hang on, I think I'm bloody breathing as well." He cringed as though expecting a blow and inhaled experimentally. He hyperventilated for a moment and then began to cough. "Oh yeah, breathing. This just gets so much better."

"Quit complaining," Buffy admonished. "You sound like a big cry-baby."

Spike glared at her. "You aren't getting it from this side, Slayer. You don't know how weird this is."

Buffy closed her eyes in frustration and her thoughts wafted to him.

"I am getting it from that side, stupid. I know how scared you are. We'll deal with it, okay?"

"Now who's being flippant?" he sent back.

"This is not flippant. I'm more used to dealing with the freaky stuff than you."

"Does the word 'vampire' mean anything to you?" Spike asked. He raised a cynical eyebrow. "And it's a sure thing that spendin' a hundred years with Dru was never freaky. 'Cause we all know how bloody not-freaky she is."

"That's different," Buffy snapped aloud.

He interpreted the wave that hit him as intense jealousy and grinned at her smugly. "I felt that, you know," he said.

"Felt what?" Buffy dropped his hand like a hot potato and tried to shut down the link. It didn't work.

"Don't think you can run away from it that easily," Spike told her. "Your Watcher said somethin' along the lines of 'permanent', dint he?"

"Oh-my-GOD." Buffy looked ill. "Oh God, oh God, oh God..." She seemed oblivious to the dumbfounded stares of Giles and the Scoobies.

"You can't blame me this time, it's all your doing." Spike patted at his chest, and then reflexively lay the hand flat, awed by the unfamiliar throbbing in his body. "And that includes this idiotic resurrectiony stuff."

"Oh no," Buffy held up her hand in protest. "You can't lay that on me. If you're getting all blamey, how about your friend Napoleon?"

"Apollyon!"

"Whatever. That whatsit demon put the snakey-thing in your head, how about we go and beat the crap out of him."

"Well I'm always up for a spot of violence." Spike smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. "You're cute when I'm angry, Slayer."

"As entertaining as this is," Giles interrupted, sounding impossibly worn out. "I'm beginning to get a tennis-match class crick in my neck."

"Yeah," Anya agreed bluntly. "How about you two just leave."

"She means, why don't you go and do the fighty thing somewhere other than here," Xander hurried to clarify. "We'll stay and pitch the full-on wiggy fit." He smiled tightly. "We excel at those. Lots and lots of practice."

"Patrol then?" Buffy suggested to Spike. "I could dust a few vamps, take the edge off."

"What edge?" he asked.

"That major Spike-shaped edge that's digging in to my rear end." She smiled sweetly. "Can you feel it too?"

"You really want an answer to that?"

~*[+]*~

Apollyon sat on the tunnel floor and contented himself with drawing patterns on the sandy surface with his claws. His tentacles rippled, stretched out into a wing-like formation and then returned to lie along his shoulders. The lack of stimulating company was tiresome for a demon of his caliber. He couldn't even try probing into the mind of the Drusilla-vamp to break the monotony. There was no way he would be able to reach her in her present state.

He rumbled to himself in irritation and peered at the vampiress. She rested against the granite face of the tunnel wall, the manacles about her wrists anchored to the stone by heavy chains. She had been shut down for hours now, mumbling every so often about stars and babies, and someone she called Angel. A speculative gleam flared in his eyes. His interest was piqued somewhat by this Angel character - he sounded fascinating. Of course, he would have to check that investigating that interest would have no adverse effect on Spike's welfare. He did owe the vampire a rather large debt on behalf of his entire species.

The irritated rumble deepened to a purr, which then rolled into a guttural laugh. The expression on Spike's face had been extremely amusing, as was his displeasure at learning of the Serpiente. That would change. Once he'd been exposed to the possibilities of the link, there was no way he could be disappointed. This was the road to true happiness for Spike. Apollyon had seen into the vampire's heart and was positive he had done the right thing.

The chains rattled as Drusilla stirred and fixed her wide-set eyes on him.

"I'm very cross with you," she sulkily informed him. "You were supposed to help me get my Spike back."

"Spike to another belongs," Apollyon wheezed. He angled his head and regarded her suspiciously. "Of this aware."

"I could see her," Drusilla admitted. She stared blindly at the opposite wall, her mind wandering. "He tried to hide her from me, but she was like music in his head. A pretty little goldfish swimming all around and in and out." Her gaze returned to the demon and the hostility in her eyes surprised him. "The Slayer shouldn't take my toys without asking, you know. She'll have to pay for that."

Apollyon shifted uneasily, glad that he'd finally agreed to restrain her. He hadn't thought it necessary, but Spike had insisted. The vampire obviously knew his former lover very well. The demon tightened his tentacles closer against his shoulders, not wanting to get his receptors anywhere near such insanity. He couldn't believe that he'd traveled all the way from Mexico with her in his van and hadn't suspected the extent of her problems.

He jumped as the trapdoor from Spike's crypt was thrown open.

"Hey Apollyon!" Spike called through the opening, not bothering to climb down. "Haul your slimy tail on up here! Got someone you'll want to meet."

~*[+]*~

Spike observed Buffy covertly from beneath his lashes as she proceeded to ignore him and settle cautiously in his mangy green armchair.

On their brief journey to the crypt they had run into and dispatched a round of vamp newbies in the cemetery. She hadn't said two words to him the entire time, and even her essence was distant. All told, she was taking it better than he had anticipated.

"Stop looking at me," she said suddenly, drumming the fingers of both hands on the armrests. "I don't like it when you look at me."

"Why's that?"

Buffy sighed. "I don't know."

Spike smirked. He couldn't help it. "You do so. I make you uncomfortable."

She turned to look at him but didn't comment.

"You know why I make you uncomfortable, Slayer? 'Cause you want me. And that scares you."

Buffy blinked at him. "Your ego must be the size of Alaska."

"Isn't a matter of ego. I can feel it. Always been able to, if the truth be known. Figure that's the reason I never got around to killin' you good and proper."

She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again as a massive clawed hand emerged from the trapdoor. It dug into the stone floor for traction as it dragged the monstrous body it was attached to from the narrow opening.

"Tight fit, mate?" Spike asked dryly as the demon rose to tower over him.

The beast grunted - a sort of dual grunt that managed to be both high and low in pitch.

"So, Apollyon, allow me to introduce ... the Slayer." Spike gestured grandly and threw her a cocky grin as the demon moved in her direction.

Buffy shot to her feet and stood on the chair to get some extra height.

"Hi!" She waved cheerfully, hoping that the motion would put him off having to shake her hand or something. "You're way bigger than I thought." She gave him a tentative smile and got a reassuring surge from Spike that unnerved her more than coming face to face with the demon did.

"Don't do that," she sent telepathically. "It puts me off."

"Puts you off what?" he returned. "Runnin' like a scaredy girl?"

She scowled and he winked at her, moving to nudge the demon conspiratorially. "Makes you wonder what all the fuss is about, don't it?" he said.

"Hey!" Buffy protested.

"Well, you've got to admit, there isn't that much of you, Slayer. You're a mite scrawny. 'Specially when compared to teeny little Apollyon here."

"How tall is he anyway?"

"Don't know. Never cared to estimate." Spike gazed up at the demon. "Vicinity of ten foot?" He frowned at Apollyon who had yet to say anything. "Struck dumb by her beauty or somethin', mate?" he asked.

Buffy blushed. "Shut up," she hissed. Her eyes widened as the demon's tentacles extended in her direction.

Spike sensed her panic and gave her a quick mental embrace. "Don't get violent. He's just gonna do you a bit of a reading," he told her. "It's sort of a Keratos formality. He won't hurt or anything."

"Oh sure. Look what he did to you."

Spike hesitated for a second. It was a good point.

"I'm gonna trust you," Buffy continued. "But so help me, if you're wrong..."

Her voice trailed off as a set of Apollyon's tentacles made contact with her temples, their ends grasping like suction caps. Another set came to rest lightly on her chest, as though testing for a heartbeat. There was an instant when she thought she was going to faint, a kind of floaty out-of-body experience, and then it was over. The demon shuffled back a few paces and grumble-squeaked at Spike.

The vampire bestowed Apollyon with the biggest, warmest smile she'd ever seen him produce - the subconscious joy radiating from it enveloped her like a fuzzy blanket.

"What?" Buffy demanded, suspicious.

"Just confirmed somethin' that I might've sussed out already."

Spike's joy seemed to have an edge of giddiness to it. She felt light-headed on his account and sat back down.

"I don't love you, if that's what you mean."

"Believe me, Slayer, I'm well aware of that." His happiness dimmed a fraction and his smile took on a tight edge. "The possibility is there, is all. A bit of potential. You feel something."

"Okay, I'll admit that I don't hate you - as much. How's that?"

"Enough. For now."

The Keratos interrupted, and Buffy took advantage of Spike's distraction to contemplate her feelings a little more closely.

Could she love Spike?

Well, there was the million-dollar question. And no lifelines left either.

She was undeniably attracted to him in a physical way. At this point she had to admit that she always had been. They had sparkage. That wasn't a problem. So what was?

The vampire thing also appeared to be a non-problem at the moment, considering the whole heartbeat and breathing scenario, so she could scratch that one too.

Scratching that left a huge portion of the slate bare. Not of the good. She was running out of cons. And the pro column was growing longer.

She'd already told Giles about the strength and the bravery, and when you included that he seemed to be in love with her. True love - the melty, chocolatey, hearts-and-flowers kind that you got in the movies. She was fascinated at the idea of it, but a bit horrified as well.

This was William the Bloody, a guy who'd earned his charming nickname by ramming railroad spikes through people's heads. He'd been trying to annihilate the whole Scooby gang for years. That he hadn't achieved his goal was unimportant. He'd tried. He'd enjoyed trying. And he'd rubbed their collective faces in that particular fact over and over.

She sighed. It was the microchip factor that was throwing her reasoning off. She couldn't deny that Spike had changed. With the link active she could detect the soft underbelly that he'd managed to keep hidden all this time, but was that softness a permanent thing? Would his caring nature alter if the chip deactivated?

She blinked and looked up to see that Spike and the Keratos had finished their conversation. Both were staring at her.

"Well," Spike drawled, "That was ... interesting."

"You could hear that?"

"Some." He puffed out his chest and folded his arms across it, regarding her seriously. "The chip didn't change me," he said finally. "Not the way you think. All it did was curb some of the killin' instinct. The whole slaughter of innocent humans bit. Everything else is exactly the same as it was."

"I don't believe that." Buffy said. "I can't believe that."

Spike took a breath, but she sensed the question before he voiced it.

"Why not?" she asked. "Vampire bad - Buffy kill. See? Black and white. Sacred duty. You're a whole pencil sketch of shades, Spike. It screws up the outlook."

"So I'm what? An anomaly now?" He glanced at Apollyon as though seeking backup. "I'm not the only demon that colors outside the lines, Slayer. We're all different."

The notion came to Buffy as a revelation.

"Like people," she observed. Why hadn't she thought of that before? Why had Giles neglected to teach her?

"Like people." Spike approved, nodding. "And there's why the likes of the Watcher's Council haven't cleared the ranks, and never will."

He squatted down in front of the chair, trying to convince her of his sincerity. "Life's stained in all shades of grey, love. It's not always clean - it's not always neat. You can't pigeonhole 'Good' and 'Evil' into simple 'Human' and 'Demon' types, there's both in each." He frowned. "That didn't come out right."

"But I understand what you're getting at," Buffy slumped back into the armchair. "You realize that you just debunked years of Slayer training in less than a minute."

Spike shrugged. "Needed debunking, then."

They smiled at each other, sharing a moment of complete harmony.

"Oh, and here's a little tidbit for you," he put in brightly, suddenly feeling the urge to aggravate her. "That's not how the nickname came about. Don't be believin' everything you've been told. Those Watchers of yours are mightily attached to preconceived notions."

She stared at him, the demand for an explanation on the tip of her tongue.

Then Apollyon started screaming.

"Bloody hell!" Spike yelled, slapping his hands over his ears.

Buffy did the same, but the gesture did little to minimize the noise that continued to come from the demon in an endless wail, like a police siren.

Spike's voice came in Buffy's head. "Whatever's givin' him the willies, he'll just keep on 'til it stops. Downside of him having two sets of lungs."

He sounded like he was in pain and Buffy belatedly remembered that vampire hearing was more sensitive than hers was. She frowned at the thought. Wasn't he human now?

"Yeah, I noticed that." Spike's voice came again. "Seems some vampy perks have decided to hang 'round." He gave her a mental smile that manifested physically in his eyes. "I'd bolt outside to check on the daylight situation, but blowin' away in the breeze doesn't appeal."

"That's not funny," Buffy rebuked. "And also not important. How the hell are we supposed to get him to shut up?"

Spike stared at the erupting Keratos for a moment, weighing his options. He flashed her a mischievous grin and headed for the battered old chest next to the television. He rummaged around inside and emerged brandishing a baseball bat.

"Just knock him out," Buffy said. "Don't kill him."

"No killin'. Promise."

Spike wielded the bat with a practiced ease and it connected solidly with the back of Apollyon's head. The demon swayed slightly, but did not fall. The screaming continued. Spike stared at him, perplexed, and then hit him again. And again. Nothing happened.

"Bugger," Spike muttered. He glanced sheepishly at Buffy, who watched with growing amusement, her hands still covering her ears. "What?"

Buffy merely raised her eyebrow at him. "You're doing a great job there, Paul Bunyan. Keep chopping."

Great. Even in his head she sounded sarcastic.

He offered her the bat. She rose from the chair and accepted it with a small bow. She smiled evilly and swung it in a wide arc. The subsequent cracking sound made Spike wince, his eyes shut tightly. That had to hurt.

The demon's screaming ceased for a merciful ten seconds and then started back up.

Spike opened his eyes and gaped at the Keratos in disbelief. Buffy exhibited a remarkably similar expression, but hers was directed at the now splintered baseball bat in her hands. Splintered right through the sweet spot.

"That's just bleedin' perfect." The vampire was annoyed now. He'd had that bat for fifty years - it was his favorite. "Can I kill him now?"

"I'd like to see you try." Buffy angled her head and eyed the demon. "Got any rope?"

Spike caught a mental indication of her plan and went back to rifle through the chest. This time he triumphantly held up a large roll of industrial cable.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at it. "I'm not going to ask why you've got that. I don't want to know." She shook her head. "Really, really don't want to know."

Together they managed to gag the still spouting demon and stood back to admire their handiwork. Apollyon was now positioned awkwardly on Spike's chair with most of his upper body wrapped in cable. He continued emitting noise, but it was now subdued to a quiet whine.

"Can he breathe with his mouth tied shut like that?" Buffy asked.

Spike shrugged and wiggled a finger in his ear. "Don't rightly care. I just want this bloody whistlin' to stop." He paused for a moment and tipped his head from side to side. "Think he might have perforated me eardrum."

"Good thing you don't need it to hear me," Buffy teased in his mind.

"You realize that we worked this whole thing without talkin'?"

Buffy contemplated that. "We did?" They had. What did that mean?

"Means we're a team."

"It so does not! There's no team. And there's definitely no 'we'."

"And the lady does the 'protest too much' routine - as per bloody usual." Spike sighed, casting his eyes toward the ceiling. "Don't know how you get on denyin' everything that doesn't fit in that convenient round hole you've got set up."

Buffy gnawed at her lower lip and stared at him. She didn't have to open her mouth. The words 'square peg' shot out at him loud and clear.

Spike ignored the message, gave the whining Keratos a final once-over and ambled toward the trapdoor. "Don't know about you, but I figure Dru's got more'n a bit to do with this," he said.

"I know. You know I know. I know that you know that..." Buffy stopped speaking and waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever. We both know - what we know."

"That's a lot of knowin' there, Slayer." Spike did the genuine grin thing again and headed down into the tunnel. Buffy caught the gleefully unspoken "We" before his head disappeared from view.

She gritted her teeth. He was so exasperating. A literal pain in the neck.

Well, not with the literal so much anymore. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that?

"Oi! Blondie!" Spike's voice bellowed in her head. "You'd best get down here."

"Blondie," Buffy muttered before descending the wooden ladder.

~*[+]*~

Research, better known in the Xander Harris dictionary as 'a full-on wiggy fit', continued unabated at the magic shop, although all but Giles were ready to concede defeat.

"She's coping with it really well," Willow said. "We should just let her cope. Shouldn't we?"

Tara squeezed her partner's hand. "I agree. We'd be better off letting this play out on it's own." She smiled lopsidedly. "Who knows, maybe he'll upset her so much she'll stake him on principle."

"And hope does the Snoopy dance," Xander said wistfully.

"I don't see why you're so opposed to Spike anyway," Anya put in. "I know I wasn't around when he was all evil and trying to kill you and stuff, but he's nice now." She paused for a second and thought it over. "Actually he's like me. We've got a lot in common."

"Huh?" Xander stared at his girlfriend. "Ahn, honey, that's not true."

"Sure it is." Anya began ticking off points on her fingers. "Both of us spent a long time doing nasty things, both really old, both ex-demons in human bodies..."

"But we're not positive that Spike's hundred percent human," Willow said. "Are we?"

"Breathing and a heartbeat count as human in my book," Anya declared.

"Would you all just shut up!" Giles snapped, finally reaching the end of his tether. He slammed his hand onto the table with a loud bang. "There is no conceivable way that I am going to allow Buffy to remain linked to that detestable vampire. If you're not going to help, then I suggest you leave."

The Scoobies peered around at each other in shock. Giles was never this mean to any of them, with the exception of Spike, who he seemed to despise more strongly than he'd previously let on.

"Um, maybe we could come back later," Willow suggested, blinking slowly. "You have to contact the Council anyhow, right?"

"Yeah, we'll h-head home and you can update us if anything changes." Tara wanted to get out of the shop as quickly as possible. She'd seen a brief glimpse of something in Mr. Giles' eyes a moment ago that she wanted to talk to Willow about.

They collected their coats and left the Magic Box, convening in a huddle on the street outside.

"Did you see it?" Willow and Tara asked simultaneously as soon as the door shut behind them.

"See what?" Xander asked. "Other than the G-man gettin' all hot under his starchy collar?"

"That's just it," Willow said. "He's been real touchy all day. Touchy-touchy. Ever since Buffy and Spike linked up. And now he's flashin' lil' yellow sparklies in his eyes."

"Yellow sparklies?" Xander ducked his chin, smiling.

"As in vamp-demon yellow," Anya told him, thumping his shoulder. "Men are so unobservant."

"Giles is a vampire?" Xander was horrified. "When did this happen?"

"I'm not sure that he's actually all vamped out," Willow said. "Same way that I'm not sure that Spike's altogether human. But something's definitely wiggy in Giles-land."

"D-Didn't he have contact with Spike as well?" Tara asked. "We were too distracted by the Buffy and Spike show to pay much attention to that part."

"We've gotta find them," Willow stated. "Buffy and Spike, I mean. We've got to do the Sherlocky thing. Put together the details. Figure out exactly what happened before Giles goes, like, permanently bumpy." She caught hold of Tara's hand and headed in the direction of Spike's crypt.

Anya moved to follow, but had to pause to wait for Xander, who was still going over everything in his mind. "Are you coming?"

Xander sighed heavily, and trailed after the witches. "Only on the Hellmouth," he muttered.

~*[+]*~

Buffy knew something was wrong the moment she set foot in the tunnel.

Spike was out of sight, but she sensed he was nearby. He felt kinda panicky, not at all like the confident non-vamp she was linked with. She understood that most of that confidence was a carefully erected facade, but this sort of vague alarm was scaring her.

"Spike?"

Buffy sent the call telepathically. There was no answer and goosebumps shot up her arms. Stop it! You are so not afraid right now. She absolutely refused to be concerned about Spike.

"Drusilla's loose."

The realization popped unbidden into her head. But had she thought it or had Spike? She couldn't tell anymore. That was plenty scary on it's own.

Buffy reached behind, under her jacket, and pulled out a stake. She edged carefully along the tunnel wall, keeping a wary eye open.

"Spike? Where are you?" Why is it so damn dark down here?

Spike's lighter flicked on in the shadows just ahead of her, casting a warm glow across his sculpted face.

He smirked. "Fearful she might've done away with me?"

It was the smirk that did it. Buffy stalked over and smacked him. Hard. He flew across to land heavily on the other side of the tunnel.

"Hey!" He complained, sitting up and rubbing his jaw. "No fair gettin' slap-happy. I can't fight back, remember?"

"You jerk! I thought something had happened to you!"

"See? Knew you weren't as detached as you kept makin' out." Spike got to his feet. "That wasn't the intended message, though. Dru's scampered."

"Yeah, I got that." Buffy flexed her fingers and made a mental note not to punch him again. Not while holding a stake anyway. "What I wanna know is why you were so freaked about it."

"I was just wonderin' what she did to set Apollyon off," he said. "Got to be big. And I'm talkin' apocalyptic."

"I've dealt with apocalyptic stuff before. So have you. We'll deal."

"There's that 'we' again, Slayer. For someone who's not on a team, you're pretty chummy."

She held up the stake. "Do you want me to use this?"

Spike's chin jutted out at her in a silent dare, and she focused on it for a second, fascinated. It had a little pointy bit on it, like someone had attached an extra layer of stubborn.

Maybe that's why he brought out the worst in her. She hated stubborn. It reminded her too much of herself. And she didn't want to have anything in common with him. Right?

"Done with the pointless soul-searchin'?" he asked, breaking in on her meditation. "'Cause I'd like to go find Dru before she tries to destroy the world again."

The Scoobies arrived at Spike's crypt and hovered uncertainly outside.

"Should we knock?" Willow asked. "We should knock. Does Buffy knock?"

"It would be polite, I guess." Tara replied, doubtful.

"C'mon guys, its only Spike." Xander shoved the door open.

Willow frowned. "Are you sure? It doesn't seem right, just walkin' on in. I mean, he has to be invited to get in anywhere."

"He doesn't anymore," Anya commented as they followed Xander inside. "Not being restricted by vampire rules must be very liberating for him."

They all came to an abrupt halt and stared at the ten-foot, trussed-up warbling Keratos demon perched unsteadily on Spike's armchair.

"That's new," Anya said.

Xander blinked. "Yeah. And every home should have one 'cause they're so handy."

"What is it?" Tara was riveted to the spot, unable to take her eyes from the improbable scene. She hugged herself protectively.

"Guessin' that it's Spike's pal, the Keratos demon guy." Willow walked around slowly to stand in front of the beast. "Don't know why he's the one tied up, though. Wasn't Drusilla-? Oh." She halted. "Oh no."

"Should we, you know, untie him?" Tara asked. "He doesn't look too comfortable. And he keeps making that noise."

"Maybe we should wait for Spike," Anya suggested. "I mean, it's his demon."

"It's not a pet, honey," Xander informed her. He thrust his hands into his pockets and eyed the demon. "Although ... he's sort of cute in a non-fluffy, monstrous demon kinda way." He looked up eagerly. "Can we keep him?"

Willow leant forward and gingerly unwound a small section of cable, creating enough leeway for Apollyon to open his mouth and breach the remaining bonds. His strident howling began all over again, leaving the gang to do little but peer at each other with their hands clasped tightly over their ears.

Spike suddenly burst from the trapdoor opening and shouldered his way past Willow, rapidly moving to replace the cables. After securing the final knot, he turned to confront the group.

"Bloody hell!" he exploded, the furious glitter in his eyes motivating the witch to take a cautious step backward. "Whose bright idea was that?"

He glared at Buffy as she emerged from the tunnel, having clearly just said something defamatory in his mind. They waged a wordless battle for a few minutes, eyes flashing, then Spike hooked his thumbs in his belt and tilted his head defiantly.

Buffy stood firm and folded her arms, her jaw set.

"Oh, alright then." Spike gave the Scoobies a disgusted glance and wandered over to sit atop his sarcophagus. He lit a cigarette and stared moodily at the Keratos.

Buffy watched him with suspicion for a moment, and then turned back to the Scoobies. She gave them a wide smile. "What's up?"

"Besides the decibel level?" Xander anxiously tapped at the side of his head.

"I can't hear anything." Anya declared in a very loud voice. "I'm deaf. Is anyone else deaf?"

"Why is she asking the question if she won't be able to hear the bloody answer?" Spike pondered aloud, squinting at the former vengeance demon through a cloud of smoke.

"I thought I told you to stay out of this," Buffy cautioned.

"You don't dictate to me, Summers. Not big on the whole order-takin' vibe."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Willow, who raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"Don't ask." Buffy sighed. "What's with the group outing?"

"Oh, um, we've kinda got a Serpiente-related problem," Willow grimaced apologetically.

"Another one," Anya inserted, still speaking much louder than necessary.

Buffy felt Spike's approach. "Don't suppose you Scoobies've found the magical cure-all?" he asked, coming to a halt at her shoulder.

"No." The redhead's brow creased. "It's just, Giles is actin' kinda ... he's a little..."

"Vampirey." Tara supplied, helpfully. "With the yellow eyes and stuff."

"I'm really worried," Willow continued. "What if he gets all, you know, Grr?" She curved her fingers into a claw to demonstrate. "He hasn't got a chip like Spike does. He could hurt someone."

"Kinda doubtful, Red," Spike said, trying to reassure her. "My soul didn't make a miraculous reappearance, so I'd lay odds he's still intact." He smiled. "Rupes is more likely to act like His Royal Peachiness than some fresh-turned newbie."

"Spike's right." Buffy had the disturbing urge to lean against her misfit of a link-partner for support and threw a comforting arm around Willow's shoulders instead. "Giles would never hurt anyone, Will. Not if he could help it."

She glanced at Apollyon and suddenly realized that the demon had stopped whimpering.

Spike sensed her astonishment and was starting toward the Keratos before she could even finish processing the thought. He halted in front of the demon and narrowed his eyes, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He took a deep drag and then leant forward threateningly.

"You all done?" he asked, blowing smoke across the demon's nostrils, his voice low and thick with menace, "'Cause you start up that caterwaulin' again and I'll kill you right quick."

The demon's startling green eyes rolled back into his enormous head and he collapsed backward, his sheer weight tipping the chair over with him.

Spike puffed out his chest. "Oh yeah. I still got it."

"That wasn't because of you." Buffy shook her head in disbelief. He was so full of it. "He's probably all traumatized or something."

"Yeah, by the Big Bad..."

"Hello? Not a real vampire anymore!"

That seemed to take the wind out of his sails. He tossed his cigarette onto the floor and exhaled dejectedly, his head bowing. Buffy could feel his frustration, and the dark layer of unadulterated terror lurking beneath it. She sent him a little extrasensory hug and he looked up in surprise. Their eyes met ... and held.

Xander cleared his throat, not liking the sudden tension in the air. "What's with the overzealous yawping anyway? He always like that?"

Spike glared at him. Insolent whelp - if he didn't have this chip, he'd be the first one...

The thought earned him a mental slap from the Slayer and his glare instantly transformed to a delighted smile, completely disconcerting Xander.

"Spike's smiling at me," he complained. "Officially power-freaked now."

"Shut it, Harris," Spike said affably, managing to sound quite pleasant. "I haven't gone about testin' the chip yet. Mightn't work now I'm sportin' all these human-type qualities."

Xander's eyes bulged, though it was hard to determine whether it was because of the threat or the tone of voice with which it was issued. He took refuge behind Anya, who was opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, trying to get her ears to pop.

"Spike, behave," Buffy ordered, taking charge of the situation. "We're going back to the shop to check on Giles. Now."

Spike sneered, but she could sense that he was enjoying her show of authority. He seemed to have a thing for strong women.

Buffy cautiously prodded the unconscious demon, nudging him with her foot.

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked Spike, automatically interacting via their link. She was actually beginning to appreciate being able to share these secret conversations with him.

"When he passed out in that bar in Mexico, I just up and left him there," Spike admitted. "Don't see how this is any different."

"Remind me never to go out drinking with you."

"Why is he all ... with the bondage?" Willow inquired curiously.

"And, again, that screamy thing?" Xander put in. "What's that about?"

"There's the poser children," Spike noted. "We'll be askin' the same of Dru when we get to trackin' her down."

Still having the persistent impulse to touch him, and giving in to it just this once, Buffy reached over and grabbed Spike's hand.

Surprisingly, he didn't make with the sarcastic comments, gently stroking the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand instead. It was nice.

And his skin really was remarkably smooth for someone as experienced and battle-hardened as he was.

She blinked. Okay, where had that come from?

"We'll fill you in on the way," she said to the gang, heading out of the crypt and dragging a very pleased-looking Spike along behind her.

~*[+]*~

The whole town was strangely dark. Or not so strangely, seeing that there was no moon and that all the streetlights were out.

Electrical disturbances usually heralded the arrival of some major league nasty and the group was well aware of it. They were a little more tense than usual, and it manifested as an elevated level of sniping.

"Well, I don't get it," Xander said. He was whispering to Anya, but it was loud enough for everyone else to hear because she kept telling him to speak up. "I know they're all linked and stuff, but the hand-holding? When did that happen?"

"Can't you belt him one?" Spike complained to Buffy in link-versation. "Just a little tap. Wouldn't take much. I'd do it, but I don't wanna risk a chip-zapping." He gestured vaguely toward his head. "Get the feelin' it might, you know, do a crossover."

"And since when did you decide that was a bad thing?" Buffy returned. "I thought you'd want me to see what it felt like. A chance to do a bit of damage."

"That was before."

"Oh, right," Buffy said cynically. "Before you realized you loved me."

"Before the sodding link, you nit." Spike became agitated. "I love you, yeah, but I've never once treated you like some delicate flower. You don't need coddlin'. Hell, you can protect yourself better than the average bloke."

Buffy stopped walking and stared at him. "Say that again."

"What? 'Average bloke'?"

She slugged him on the shoulder and he flailed back a few steps. "Hey!"

"You said it." Buffy pointed her finger at him accusingly, but it trembled a little. "I heard you. You actually said the words." His admission had been like a solid blow to the gut. She was having trouble drawing breath.

"You okay?" Spike was suddenly all attentive. "I can feel you strugglin' in there." He glanced back to the Scoobies, who had paused to watch their interchange. "And you're drawin' an audience."

Buffy continued to gape at him. "I didn't believe it, you know," she said. "Even after, when then link exploded. I could feel it, but I..." She shook her head, wonderment crossing her face. "It's really real. You really love me."

"Well, yeah." Spike was blushing again. Bloody human body. "Thought we'd pretty much established that."

"But it's wrong. It isn't supposed to be possible."

"Think I don't know that? Contrary to the popular belief 'round here, I'm not stupid." He sighed and stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek. "Doesn't feel wrong."

She blinked at him, wishing for some proper light so that she could really see him. Drown in those brilliant blue eyes of his and just ... Oops! Buffy, what are you doing? Focus!

She cleared her throat. "Right. Um, weren't we on a mission here?"

Spike smiled.

He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, but she hadn't taken the time to notice. He usually had that perpetual 'don't trust me, I'm up to something' look on his face.

"Oh dear," he lamented, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. "Forgettin' your Slayery duties?"

Buffy gave him her best 'drop-dead' look, and resumed walking.

~*[+]*~

Drusilla sat in a corner of the Old Mansion with her favorite porcelain doll in her arms. Its eyes had been removed.

Miss Edith was blinded - just as that Jezebel Slayer had blinded her lovely William. Her lovely, wicked baby. He reeked of her. It would take her some time to get rid of the stench, but it would be well worth it and they would be a family again.

Daddy was on his way. She had made sure of it. The invitations had been sent and all the guests were coming. It wouldn't do for the entertainment to be spoiled and the Slayer played all the best games.

She hummed to herself as she fashioned a ribbon to cover the doll's empty sockets.

"It will be perfect, my darling," she whispered conspiratorially to Miss Edith's blanked-out countenance. "But you mustn't tell, it would ruin the surprise."

~*[+]*~

Giles was beginning to worry himself. He paced up and down the Magic Box's floor like a caged animal, aware that something was profoundly wrong. He could feel the anger simmering through his system, and was finding it harder and harder to control.

It was not unlike that time he had been put under a spell and turned into a demon, although on this occasion he believed that there was no spell involved. This was Spike's fault.

He snarled, and then paused to contemplate the sound, startled to find it coming from his own throat.

Oh yes, this was definitely Spike's fault. He was exhibiting traits that were undoubtedly vampire-like. It was a short leap to the conclusion that it was as a result of the minimal contact that he'd had with Spike earlier. Another previously unheard-of Serpiente side effect.

Logically, in came down to the fact that some of Spike's demon element had been passed to Giles, just as Buffy's humanity had rubbed off on the vampire. It would be difficult to establish whether or not the situation could be reversed.

He looked up as the Scoobies arrived back at the shop. Xander and Anya barreled through the door, closely followed by Willow and Tara. It was the appearance of Spike that pushed him over the edge. Giles launched himself at the vampire, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd slipped into game face.

Spike reeled back, pivoted, and let fly with a vicious left that momentarily flattened the Watcher - and let the vampire know that the chip was still painfully operative.

"Ow!"

The cry came from Buffy and Spike simultaneously and they both clutched at their heads.

"See," Spike groaned to the Slayer. "Told you it'd do a crossover."

Buffy squinted at him. How did he take this? It was excruciating. Her eyes were watering.

Giles growled at them from the floor and Buffy stared down at him.

"Breathe," she instructed. "Count back from ten to one. Slowly."

Spike frowned at her. Had she been doing some prying when he wasn't looking? How did she know that was the precise method he used to calm himself down?

She smiled at him smugly and he narrowed his gaze. Bitch.

"I heard that."

"I know. Stop statin' the bleedin' obvious."

Giles was finally able to contain his rage enough for his game face to recede. "I am so very sorry," he said. "I'd like to say that I don't know what came over me, but that would be an outright lie."

Spike leant over the prone Watcher, his eyes narrowed meaningfully. "Not as simple as you thought, is it?" he asked.

"No, no. Certainly not." Giles pulled himself into a standing position and probed at the swelling on his jaw. "Quite the left hook, you've got there."

Spike shrugged. "Still runnin' on vamp-power, I guess."

"Have any other consequences surfaced?" Giles slipped seamlessly into Watcher Mode. "Anything else changed?"

"Just this latest interactive pain thing. Other than that, I'm still feelin' the need for McPlasma meals." Spike glanced at Buffy, who nodded in agreement.

"I can sense the craving," she said and gagged a little. "Wiggy doesn't even cover it, but I'm dealing." She stared at Giles intensely. "Speaking of..."

"I think I have adequately displayed my lack thereof," Giles shook his head. "I completely underestimated the potency of demon urgings." His gaze returned to Spike. "I'm amazed at your ability to control it."

Spike blushed again. He really had to get that under control. "I've lived with it for a bit longer," he said dismissively. "It gets easier." He glanced almost shyly at Buffy. "In some ways."

Buffy frowned. "Well, how about you cryptic that up?"

"Oh, for God's sake, spit it out," Anya said suddenly. "You're all so emotionally repressed. It's not healthy." She folded her arms defensively as they stared at her. "Well, it's not."

Spike sauntered away, perched himself several rungs up the ladder to the loft and lit a cigarette. He cleared his throat to make sure he had their undivided attention. "Right," he said. "Here goes then."

He pointed his cigarette-holding fingers at the group. "Fact one. This whole situation started 'cause I wanted to test a theory. Nothin' sinister, I just wanted to find out how Buffy truly felt about me is all."

The cigarette relocated to his mouth. "Fact two. Dru was behind the Serpiente. I had absolutely nothin' to do with it. Fact three..."

"Fact three," Buffy inserted. "The reason the Serpiente passed on to me, is because you're in love with me."

There was silence for a moment and then Xander started laughing.

"Good one, Buff," he applauded. Then he realized that no one else was sharing the hilarity. "What?" He peered around uncertainly. "She was joking. Right?"

"Unfortunately not," Giles said. "Spike seems to possess deep feelings that no-one believed his kind was capable of."

"You mean, our kind." Spike blew a smoke ring. "Seems I'm not the only one who's occasionally bumpy in the forehead region these days."

Giles rubbed at his brow, half-expecting the ridges to still be there. He could still feel the rage coursing through his body.

"But Spike ... I mean, he and -?" Xander stammered to a stop and sighed. "Wait. Why am I even surprised?"

"I was about to ask the same thing," Willow smiled indulgently at her lifelong best friend. "Hellmouth," she stated. "Explains everything. I mean, just look at who you're dating, Xander. A thousand-year-old ex-vengeance demon. Do you think that would be possible anywhere else in the world?"

"I'm guessing not." Xander smiled tenderly at Anya. "And lucky me for livin' in a Hellmouth-friendly area."

Spike snorted and stubbed out his cigarette on the handrail. He went to flick the butt to the floor, then thought better of it and tucked it into his pocket. He looked up to catch Buffy's knowing grin.

"Coward," she flung at him.

"Damn right," he sent back. "Don't want the Watcher gettin' all in a tizzy and settin' the chip off again."

"Well, I'm with you on that one." Buffy rubbed her temple, remembering the agony.

"Figured you would be."

Giles snarled again and they all turned to stare at him.

He appeared as stunned as they did. "Sorry," he apologized. "It just came out." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of feelings, Spike, what's the current status of your former paramour?"

"My what?" Spike blinked at him.

"He means Dru," Buffy said.

"Well, I know that. But 'paramour'? Who the bleedin' hell talks like that?"

"He's British," Xander put in. "You gotta allow for..."

"Hey, I'm British. I'm a sodding Londoner. I was around when everyone actually spoke like a bunch of prissy twits. What's his excuse?"

"Ignore him," Buffy advised Giles. "He's just trying to push your buttons to avoid the subject."

Spike glowered. She dismissed his ominous expression with a wave of her hand. "You can't intimidate me anymore, chipped wonder. Not that you were ever all that..."

Giles and Spike both growled in a tandem warning and then stared at each other in surprise.

"Whoa, surround-sound vamps," Xander remarked.

Willow and Tara giggled. Buffy ducked her head to avoid doing the same.

Spike swung back to her accusingly. "Hey, no cheek from you, Slayer," he cautioned.

"And again with the un-intimidation," she intoned. "Can we get back on-topic now?"

"Yes, of course." Giles massaged his forehead again, absently checking for ridges. "Drusilla?" he asked.

"Done a bunk," Spike gritted out. He should have been more alert. He of all people knew how slippery she could be.

"But not before doing something creepified to the Napoleon demon," Buffy added.

"Don't know what exactly," Spike continued. "Set him off like a sodding burglar alarm she did."

Giles hurried to rifle through a stack of books that he'd kept separate on the counter. He grabbed a volume and flipped to a book-marked page. "Was it a 'clamor of stentorian pipes, laden with despair'?"

"Nah, mate. It was bloody loud 'n all."

Giles frowned, reading. "When a Keratos demon begins issuing this sound, it is a sign of extreme psychic stress. Someone rather powerful was sending a signal. Is Drusilla capable of such strength?"

"Not without help. She's sighted, but it's only at parlor-trick level. Helpful, but not end-of-the-world stuff." Spike shifted on his perch. "'Course, she might've picked up a few things since I last saw her. Especially with the company she's been keepin'."

"Company?" Giles looked blank for a moment.

Spike stared pointedly.

"She did dump me for a Chaos demon," he stressed. "Moved on to a Fungus demon. Hell, for all I know, she was shacked up with Apollyon."

Buffy screwed up her nose, disgusted. She had a mental flashback of the enormous demon and her disgust deepened. "Ew! Thanks for the imagery Spike. I'll be having nightmares now."

"Join the club, Slayer."

The message was for her alone and she gazed at him, recalling the tormented memories she'd picked up from him before. His nightmares. Well, day-mares really.

"Do you think that you'll be getting my memories now the link's going both ways?" she suddenly asked him.

"Probably." He grinned at her. "Just don't be havin' any lurid dreams about the Incredible Hulking Moper right? Don't want him prancin' naked through my head."

Buffy broke up laughing, causing the rest of the group to stare at her like she was a crazy person. It just made it worse and set her off again.

Spike was experiencing her mirth firsthand and tried to contain the urge to join in. The giggle came out regardless.

The Scoobies swung back in his direction as one.

"Well, that's just adorable," Anya said, smiling.

"I've never heard him laugh before," Willow commented. "It's ... well, you're right. It's adorable. Very cute."

"It's not that cute," Xander groused.

Buffy watched Spike through laughter-induced tears. He was adorable. He looked so young and carefree, and so utterly gorgeous. She found herself standing in front of him before she even realized she was moving.

Spike met her eyes, still grinning like an idiot. "What?" he asked.

Buffy's breath hitched in her throat. She reached up to lay her palm along his face, her thumb resting in the hollow under his cheekbone. "I -", she began, then shook her head, her heart squeezing in on itself behind her ribs. "I can't..."

Spike leant into her touch, emitting a heady wave of adoration. "You don't have to say it," he told her.

Buffy searched his gaze for a moment, certain that she'd just seen a glimpse of a soul that he wasn't supposed to possess. She beamed at him, and then turned back to the others.

"I don't want Spike alone in his crypt," she announced. "He'll be staying with me."

"No, I won't," he said, voicing his own dissent over the ardent protestations of the Scoobies. "I can handle myself. You know that."

"You're vulnerable when it comes to Dru. She'll use it to manipulate you."

"So. That's not new."

"But this super-dupery psycho thing is."

Spike made to retort, but was stymied by the steely resolve in her eyes.

Hell, the Slayer wanted him to move in. Who was he to argue?

Next