“Is that right?

“Oh my Lord.

“Yes. Yes.

“I…I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.” He hung up and walked back to where Spike was waiting.

“So what was that all about?” Spike asked, noting that Giles’ appeared worried.

“Yes, well…that was the Council,” the Watcher said, looking as if he’d just eaten something that didn’t quite agree with him. “Apparently, they’ve decided to reinstate Faith as a Slayer. Feel she’s been fully reha-“

“That psycho bitch?” Spike muttered, shaking his head. “Thought she was in prison? And didn’t the Council order her dead?”

“Yes, well, I don’t know all the details yet, but apparently she’s in London. I’m meeting with them in the morning.”

“Bloody Hell!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Giles said grimly. He turned to the door. “Well, we better get going, as I have a very early meeting tomorrow.”

It was going to be close. Very close! Buffy sprinted to the gate, expertly maneuvering around slower moving travelers. Gracefully, she leaped over a toddler who sullenly sat in the middle of the walkway, sucking his thumb.

The Slayer had barely made it to the airport a half-hour before the departure time-much less than the recommended two hours prior. There’d been a long line to check in and she was told that it was going to be a very full flight.

Earlier that day she’d changed her mind about going to London several times. She’d started packing. Then stopped. Then started unpacking. Then stopped. Then started packing… And finally, after she’d resolved to go, she’d been unable to fit everything she’d wanted to bring in her suitcase.

‘Story of my life,’ she’d thought, ‘nothing fits.’ Well, she hoped to rid herself of a certain piece of ‘excess baggage’ very soon.

She rushed to the gate and found that they’d already announced the last boarding call. Breathless, she marched up to the jet way and handed her ticket to the airline worker who in turn gave her back the stub. She glanced down at it, reading “32F”.

On the packed plane, she passed row after row, until finally reaching her assigned seat-not an aisle, or a window, but a dreaded middle.

‘Can you get any more crappy?’

She put down her heavy carry-on and opened the overhead compartment. Buffy’s eyes narrowed. It was already full but…

‘Just have to MAKE it fit!’ Gritting her teeth, she proceeded to stuff her bag into the already tight space.

‘One, two, three…’ With a Slayer-strength push and an audible grunt, she slammed the compartment door shut, causing several passengers to look in her direction.

Buffy glanced at the onlookers, flashed an embarrassed smile and squeezed down into her seat.

Finally she could relax! It was just too bad that her magazine and paperback novel were both in the carry-on she’d just stuffed into the overhead.

‘No problem.’ She eyed the pocket on the seat in front of her. ‘Lots of stuff to read right here!’

Rifling through the pouch’s contents, she noted a variety of airline necessities:

There were the air safety instructions. ‘Not interested. Danger is my life,’ she thought with a smirk.

A white paper bag that she curiously opened, finding a bumpy wad of pink gum. ‘Ewww.’

There was the airline travel magazine. ‘May have to come back to it later, if I get really desperate.’

Finally, she saw the “Air Mall” catalog. ‘Oooh. Shopping.’

As she thumbed through the catalog, Buffy couldn’t help but wonder who actually bought the stuff. The items were mostly cheesy, but something eventually caught her attention--a clip-on reading lamp. She recalled how poor the lighting was in Spike’s crypt and how the vampire loved to read. She earmarked the page.

‘Wait a minute! What are you-his girlfriend now? Buying him presents?’

She unfolded the corner and angrily turned the page. The next thing she found was a massage mat. You could either lie on it, if you placed it on the floor, or sit on it, if you placed it on a chair. She thought that it might be nice to have. After a tough night of slayage, her muscles sometimes ached. Of course, it was so much nicer to have Spike knead away her soreness with those cool, skillful fingers of his.

‘Don’t even start!’ She frowned and snapped the catalog shut.

Buffy then tried to think about something, anything, other than Spike. She closed her eyes tightly, placed her hands in her lap and took a deep breath.

‘Okay, even breathing. Yes, that’s it.’ She attempted to meditate. ‘Nice and peaceful.’

She imagined a quiet setting in the woods. There were little animals scurrying around-rabbits, squirrels… She smiled. ‘Cute little guys.’

A kitten wandered by--a tabby with a pink nose and green eyes. It looked up at her and mewed.

‘Hey, what are you doing here? Did you get lost?’ She pictured herself picking the animal up.

Without warning, there was a rustling in the shrubbery behind her. She turned around.

“Oh there you are! Ran away, did you?!” An all too familiar, platinum blonde demon stepped out in front of her. He reached for the kitten. “Mind handing him over, Slayer? Got a very important poker game to go to.” He looked her up and down, then curled his lips into a smile. “Unless, of course…you’re interested in playing another sort of game with me.”

Buffy grimaced with frustration. “Damn!” she muttered and banished the image from her mind.

Sighing, she opened her eyes. It was no use. Despite what she’d told her friends, despite what she’d told her sister, and despite what she kept telling herself, over and over…Spike was always in her thoughts, and there was a part of her that knew he wouldn’t be leaving them anytime soon.

There was a part of her that didn’t want him to.

* * *

Two figures walked stealthily around the stately old building that served as the Watchers Council headquarters. The building appeared practically deserted. Giles looked up and saw a light in a corner office on the highest floor. Quentin Travers, a senior member of the Council and the man whom Giles would be meeting with in the morning, was apparently still at work.

The Watcher glanced around quickly, scanning the area for the two night watchmen who would be patrolling the building at the time. Neither was in sight. He gestured for Spike to follow him and they entered through the front door. Giles led the vampire to the inner stairwell. Their footsteps echoed softly as they made their way down to the basement.

When they reached their destination, Giles flipped a switch, illuminating the aptly named Dungeon in fluorescent light.

Spike looked around, noticing rows of shelves, which almost touched the room’s low ceiling. The shelves were loaded with bankers boxes. The basement smelled musty and the lights flickered eerily in certain places.

“Very homey,” Spike commented, smirking.

Giles ignored the vampire and sat down at the microfiche reader. He searched through the index of records. “What was your Father’s name, again?” he asked.

“Pierce. Elliot Pierce,” Spike replied.

With the skill of an experienced librarian, Giles looked up the record and located the appropriate file number in less than a minute. “Well, there appears to be an Elliot Pierce here,” he said. “I’ll have to pull the film which contains his history.”

The Watcher went to a nearby shelf and started scanning the labels on the storage boxes. “Ahh. Here it is,” he muttered as he pulled out one of the heavy boxes. Spike watched Giles struggle for a few seconds before deciding to relieve him of the record-filled container. He easily carried it over to the table and placed it next to the microfiche reader.

Giles opened the box and found the appropriate film. He placed it in the machine and began reading.

“Elliot Pierce,” Giles said, looking at the screen in front of him. “Says here, he was a Council member from 1855 until his death in 1886. Hmmm. Interesting. Says he was second in command at the time of his death.”

“Could be my Father. Time sounds about right.” Spike leaned over Giles’ shoulder and squinted at the screen. “Is there anything else? Anything about the family?”

“Yes, he had a wife named Clara, a son, William…” Giles paused and glanced at Spike. “So, looks like your suspicions were right.”

“I wonder why he never told me.” Spike frowned. “Isn’t this Watcher thing something that’s supposed to run in the family?”

Giles shrugged. “Perhaps he thought you weren’t ready. The responsibly of being a Watcher is not something that one takes lightly. He was probably waiting for the appropriate time.”

Spike shook his head. “Funny. If he’d let me in on the whole Watcher thing-maybe we wouldn’t be here today. I might’ve never allowed Dru to turn me.”

Giles glanced at Spike. “Is that right?” he asked, doubtful.

“If I‘d known that I’d become an evil, bloodsucking vampire and murder hundreds of people? Yeah, I doubt that I would’ve allowed it to happen.” He looked at Giles. “But we all make bad choices during our lives-some just end up being worse than others.” He shrugged. “Is there anything in there about me getting vamped?”

Giles turned back to the screen. “No, it just says here that you were never trained as a Watcher and died in 1880, apparently killed in an attempted robbery.”

“So, my Father never told them.”

“Apparently not. Perhaps he was protecting you,” Giles said, glancing at Spike.

“Or covering up for his own failure,” Spike muttered.

“Yes, perhaps.”

“My father would’ve wanted to protect his reputation,” Spike said quietly. “I must’ve been a big disappointment. “ He paused. “But, tell me, is there anything about my sister…Emily?”

Giles looked back to the screen. “Yes, here…says daughter Emily…” He scrolled down the record until he found a separate history for Emily Pierce.

“Emily Pierce,” Giles continued. “Says here she began her Watcher training in 1883, at the age of 18.” He paused as he read through more of the record. “She became an expert in witchcraft.”

“My Sis was a Wiccan?”

“Apparently. It says she mastered the black arts at a remarkably young age…became quite powerful.”

“I told you she was bright,” Spike said, suddenly becoming excited. “But what became of her? What does the history say?”

Giles scanned the record. “Oh dear.”

“What?”

“It says here that she and the rest of your family were all killed in 1887, in a fire at their country home. The history ends there.”

“I don’t understand it,” Spike said softly to himself.

“Yes, it’s very tragic. It was the end of the Pierce line of Watchers.” Giles said, looking solemnly at Spike. But the vampire didn’t hear him, he was far away-thinking of his family and, in particular, the kid sister who had supposedly died so many years ago.

* * *

It was well after midnight by the time Spike got back to his hotel. Surprisingly, Giles had offered to drive him back without having to be coerced. Perhaps he was growing on the ex-librarian. Spike smirked. After all, they had the whole Watcher thing in common now.

As he was about to enter his hotel, he noticed the now familiar black Mercedes parked in front. ‘This is getting bloody irritating.’ He walked over to the car and knocked on the back window. After a couple of seconds, the rear door opened.

Spike peered inside the car and opened his mouth to say something. He stared in disbelief at the woman sitting inside.

“Hello William,” she said. Her small face was much as he’d remembered it. She was a bit older, more beautiful and her eyes were different, somehow. He remembered them as being bright and full of life. Now they seemed cold, hard and distant.

“Emily,” he whispered in disbelief. “It really is you.”

His sister smiled and beckoned for him to get into the car. “Come now, Brother. We have much to talk about.”

Wordlessly, Spike sat down next her on the back seat and pulled the door shut. Emily placed a hand on top of his. It felt cool.

“Max,” she said, addressing her driver. “Take us home.”

“But how?” Spike asked, looking at the sister he’d long believed to be dead. “The record in the Watcher archive said you, Mum and Dad all died in a fire.”

“Yes, our parents died in that fire,” Emily answered, “but I was already dead.” She glanced at Spike then looked out the car window. “I suppose you’d like to know what happened.” She paused and looked back at him. “I guess it all started on the night you died...”

Around midnight, Emily said, she was awakened by voices coming from the foyer. She heard footsteps go past her bedroom and stop down the hall, where her parents’ room was located. There were more voices-her father’s, the servant’s and then her mother’s hysterical cries. She ran into the hallway and knew by the look on her parents’ faces that something terrible had happened. Her mother was distraught, unable to speak, so her father gently broke the news to his daughter.

William was dead.

Emily stood perfectly still, feeling numb. The hallway seemed to magically grow longer-its walls stretching, making her parents suddenly appear far away. Wordlessly, she turned around, made the long walk back to her room and shut the door. She then got into bed and went back to sleep, hoping that it was all a dream-that her older brother would be alive when she awoke in the morning.

“I never once thought about the Family,” Spike said softly. “After I was turned, I never once looked back.” He fidgeted uncomfortably as he reflected on the pain he’d brought to the people he’d once loved.

The funeral took place two days later, Emily continued. The weather was gloomy, perfectly mirroring the feelings of a fifteen-year old girl who’d just lost her only brother-and best friend. She stared in disbelief at the pale body lying in the coffin and told herself that William was only sleeping-that he’d awaken eventually.

She was brave until the end, not crying or showing emotion of any kind until they began shoveling dirt onto the coffin. At this point, she became frantic, yelling for them to stop.

Spike frowned. “Did you know?” he asked. “What I was to become?”

Emily shook her head. “Not yet,” she replied.

Later in the evening, Emily said. She heard her father pacing in his study. Unable to sleep, she decided to go downstairs to talk to him. When she reached the top of the stairs, she saw him leave through the front door.

Curious, she followed him and wound up at the cemetery-at her brother’s grave. She watched as her father took out a wooden cross and stake from the bag he’d been carrying. Then he waited for what seemed like hours. Emily was cold and shivering, but she didn’t leave.

As she crouched, hidden behind a nearby gravestone, she stared in disbelief as her brother emerged from the ground. She recognized his clothes, his hair, and his stature…but his face was transformed. She gasped at the sight of the demon he’d become.

Her father seemed prepared. He forced William back with the cross and raised the stake to strike. But then, without warning, her brother changed, and was William again. Her father paused and looked uncertain. He then stepped back and let the demon go.

Spike nodded absently. “I remember that night clearly,” he murmured. “I’d always wondered how he knew about me becoming a vampire. But I now know that he was a Watcher.”

“Yes,” Emily replied. “As was I.”

After that night, Emily said. She became obsessed with finding out what had happened to her brother.

One day, in her father’s bookshop, she found a secret room. All of the walls were lined with shelves reaching to the ceiling and all were filled with books about magic, the supernatural, demons and vampires.

She studied them secretly, learning all she could about the monster her brother had become. A vampire, she learned, was a soulless human body inhabited by a demon. She read that the mind-the thoughts and memories of the dead host, was left intact. However, as vampires were influenced by demon desires and wants, and lacked the spiritual guidance and conscience provided by the soul, they were all believed to be evil, remorseless killers. According to the books, they had no chance of redemption.

Emily couldn’t bring herself to believe this. She developed her own theory--that a strong mind could eventually overcome the vampire’s demon instincts and that redemption was possible. She believed that if she could one day find her brother-she could save him.

Spike sadly shook his head. “I don’t believe anything could’ve saved me back then.”

The car came to a stop and he stared out the window. He could hardly believe it. The house was just the same as it had been over a hundred years before. He was home again.

Emily squeezed his hand. “Come on. Let’s go. I’ll finish the story inside.”

* * *

Spike sat in the comfortable leather chair that had once been his father’s favorite. He sipped brandy from his glass and felt it start to warm him. His sister smiled and took a sip from her own glass.

“You know,” she said, nodding to the brandy. “It doesn’t really warm us. That feeling…the warmth. It’s only a memory. Just proves how powerful the mind is, doesn’t it?

“Sure feels real,” Spike replied, draining the glass.

Emily refilled it. “And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

“So,” Spike said, looking intently at his sister. “You never told me what happened to our folks and how you got vamped.”

“Yes.” Emily looked thoughtful.

It was years later, she said. She was twenty-two and was officially a member of the Watchers Council. By then, she’d already been studying magic for almost seven years-first on her own, then formally under the Council’s guidance. She’d learned much and had become quite powerful and very sure of herself-perhaps overly so. She decided that it was time to test her theory on vampires.

She began frequenting the places that ordinary people feared most. Places like the Hellhound Pub that were only patronized by evil types-vampires, demons. She looked for her brother for almost a year.

“I was long gone by then,” Spike muttered. “I left London the same year I was sired.”

Emily looked at him sadly. “Yes, I expected as much.” She continued with her story.

Eventually, Emily said, she lost patience. She decided to test her theory another way and started looking for the appropriate sire. She wanted to find someone old and powerful…to transfer that power onto herself. She knew it would have to be someone from an ancient line. She’d researched vampires-those known to the Council and documented in books.

She finally found one who fit her needs. His name was Dominick. The Master had sired him. He was perfect.

“Dominick,” Spike said, recognizing the name. “I’ve met him before-a sadistic, evil bastard. He wasn’t your…?”

Emily nodded, “Yes. He was my sire.”

She followed him one night to a deserted street not far from the cemetery where her brother was buried. She approached him, trembling more with excitement than fear. He was beautiful. Tall, with black hair and glittering eyes that, when he turned to her, reflected her own dark desires. She felt herself being drawn to him-to the darkness.

This frightened her and she hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself. She’d never been this close to evil before-never stared in its face so directly. She took a step back then froze as he advanced on her.

Dominick seemed to be relishing the moment. Feeding on her fear. When he reached her, he ran his fingers through her hair and looked down at her, willing her to stare back. She felt as if she couldn’t look away. He smiled at her, giving her chill. But she couldn’t move. She didn’t want to.

The vampire then leaned down and kissed her--tender at first, just brushing her lips-then harder, more urgent and demanding. He caressed her cheek. His fingers felt smooth and cool like a silk scarf on a Fall day.

He whispered in her ear, “Do you want it?” She looked at him and nodded, and at the moment, she really did.

His demon face emerged, sinking his sharp fangs into Emily’s neck, and he began to drink. She felt her life draining from her. But the pain startled her like a slap in the face. Suddenly, she came to her senses and forced him off of her with a separating spell. It knocked him down and gave her enough time to escape.

When she reached home, her father was in his study. He heard her come in and intercepted her at the bottom of the staircase. He immediately saw the blood from her neck wound and demanded to know what had happened.

She explained everything to him. He became angry and started ranting about how Dominick would come after her. That he’d tasted her blood and would want to finish what he’d started. He’d heard of Dominick and knew that he was a very dangerous vampire, gifted with second sight.

The family packed that night and left at sunrise for their country home. They arrived there the following day at dusk. Her father sent Emily straight to her room and had the servant bring her supper. He locked the door from the outside.

Every evening after that, for the next six nights, he would lock his daughter in her room. A witch, she could’ve easily unlocked the door with a single word, but she didn’t out of respect for her father. He needed to feel that he was in control of the situation. Of course, he never was.

On the seventh night, Dominick found her. She was asleep in her bed and she awoke, suddenly, feeling him near. She went to the window and saw him outside the house, under a tree, staring up at her. She watched as he approached the house, then disappeared into the shadows. Craning her neck, she tried to see where he’d gone, until moments later she heard a soft tapping of fingernails on glass.

She turned and saw him standing in front of the French doors, on the side balcony outside her room. He looked at her, knowingly. She hesitated, then went to the door and stood there, staring at him. She wanted to let him in, but knew she had to resist.

Dominick pressed his hand against the glass pane. Emily placed her hand on the opposite side. He looked down at their hands, almost touching, and smiled at her, appearing almost boyish. She smiled back, feeling a strange connection with him. She sensed that he understood-what she really wanted. She felt his presence inside her head, his thoughts melding with hers.

He nodded to the door’s latch, indicating for her to let him in. She opened it.

“You didn’t…” Spike muttered, knowing all too well that his sister had invited a sadistic killer into his family’s home.

Emily nodded. “I couldn’t help myself,” she said sadly.

Dominick entered the bedroom and stood in front of her. He reached out and gently cradled her face in his hands. He spoke softly, telling her how lovely she was and how he could make her beauty eternal. He said that it was what she wanted.

He kissed her. His lips, cold from the outdoors, warmed as they pressed against hers. Emily was inexperienced with men, having spent most of her life focused on studying and magic. She felt completely lost, with a demon as her only guide.

Dominick was in control, leading her to the bed. He stroked her face and smiled as he felt her tremble beneath his touch. He asked if she were cold. Emily shook her head and whispered “no.” He then gently guided her down onto the bed and lay next to her. He kissed her again, his hands now exploring her body, feeling her through the thin cotton fabric of her nightgown.

The vampire proved to be a gentle lover. In his cool embrace, Emily could almost forget that he was a demon. His eyes were unfathomable as she stared into them, unable to speak-only to feel. To lose herself in his experienced touch.

After they made love, he stared at the fresh scar on her neck and lightly traced it with his fingertips. Her wound had nearly healed in the week since she’d been bitten. He kissed it. She felt a sharpness at her throat and realized that his fangs were now bared. The demon was back. He sank his teeth into the new, pink skin and began drinking her blood. This time, the pain felt almost pleasurable. The intensity of his bite was like an extension of their lovemaking.

She seemed to be drifting away. The room was getting smaller. Her eyelids were becoming heavier. He stopped feeding and looked at her-his face an evil mask, eyes glittering yellow. He asked again, “Do you want it?”

It took all her remaining strength to answer. She nodded. Using his fingernail, he sliced his wrist and offered it to her. She drank with only the slightest hesitation. After she was full with the vampire’s blood, she lay back and lost consciousness. She would awaken the next night-one of the undead.

“Dominick,” Spike said softly. “He murdered our parents.”

“Yes,” Emily replied. “He told me later. He hunted them down, one by one, took his time-and slaughtered them. He then set the house on fire and watched it burn until nearly sunrise.”

Spike shook his head, knowing full well that he’d done many deeds of equal, if not greater, evil.

Emily smiled sadly at her brother. “At least Father never found out what I was to become.”

Spike didn’t reply. He took another sip of the brandy and savored the warmth that was only an illusion.

“It’s almost dawn,” Emily said glancing at a wall clock. “We can talk more tomorrow. I’m afraid I’ve dominated the conversation. You must have much to say yourself. Come-You can sleep in your old room.”

She rose to her feet and led Spike up the familiar stairway to the second floor and the corner room that had been his. He stood in the doorway and stared in amazement-the room was unchanged-as if he’d never left.

Emily stood on her tiptoes and kissed her brother on the cheek. “Goodnight William. It’s good to have you back.” She headed down to her room at the other end of the hallway.

Spike entered the bedchamber and shut the door. He looked around and noted the heavy drapes that now covered the windows. Everything else was just as he’d remembered. It had all been meticulously maintained.

He went over to his bed and lay down on it. He’d found out so much about his past and his family on this night. There was much to digest and he didn’t know how this new knowledge would change things for him. He sighed and closed his eyes. He pushed all of the evening’s discoveries out of his mind…and thought, instead, of Buffy.

Giles sat alone in Quentin Travers’ office, impatiently tapping his foot against the base of the large wooden desk in front of him. The Watcher’s stomach growled, reminding him that he’d skipped breakfast in his haste to be on time for this meeting. He glanced at his watch and shook his head. It was not like Travers to be late. He wondered what was keeping his old colleague.

At twenty past eight, Travers entered the room and apologized for his tardiness. He explained that something had come up just that morning.

“What’s going on?” Giles asked, frowning.

“This business with Faith has a lot of people worried,” Travers replied, looking tired. “There are a number of Council Members who still believe that she should be terminated. She could be a terrible liability to us if she were to change her loyalties.”

Giles looked distracted. “Yes, as she has already proven.”

“I’ve previously explained to you the Council’s plans to reinstate Faith. We’ve had people observing her for quite some time-psychiatric experts. They all believe that she’s sufficiently rehabilitated.”

“But I thought that Faith was incarcerated.”

Travers nodded. “Yes, but we have excellent attorneys-and connections. After approaching Faith, offering her a second chance, we were able to get her conviction overturned. Certain key pieces of evidence were ‘misplaced’ and her confession was thrown out due to her unstable mental state at the time it was obtained. After her release, we brought her here.”

“How long has she been in London?”

“A month.”

“And why was I never told?”

“The Council still wasn’t sure what we were going to do with her…one way or the other. We believed you to be too close to the situation; you were directly affected by her previous betrayal. This needed to be an unbiased decision and we just weren’t sure of how you’d react.”

Giles frowned, but didn’t speak.

“A second slayer could be a real asset to us, Rupert,” Travers continued. “Although it’s unquestioned that Buffy remain at the Hellmouth, the numbers of vampires have been increasing in other places-even here in London. Faith could be used as a ‘roving slayer’, so to speak. The Council could send her, on an ‘as needed’ basis, to areas where the vampire population has grown too large.”

“I don’t know,” Giles said, scratching his head. “In my opinion, the girl is extremely unstable. I realize I haven’t seen her recently, but the kind of emotional scars she had…I just don’t believe that they could have completely healed in a few years time.”

“I understand your concern. There are many who feel the same way. In light of this, the Council will be taking certain precautions with Faith.”

“Precautions?”

“Yes, she’ll be accompanied at all times by two Council representatives. They will assist her in her slaying duties and will always remain very close to her.”

“The Council has assigned her two Watchers?”

Travers shook his head. “Not exactly. The men assigned to Faith are members of our elite group-“

“Assassins. To keep her in line,” Giles said, gravely. “And if she should cross the line…”

“These men have been instructed to take the necessary measures.”

“I see,” Giles murmured.

“Rupert, Faith will still need an official Watcher,” Travers said, looking pointedly at Giles. “This is where you come in. The Council feels that you would be the best man for the assignment.”

Giles frowned. “I’m not sure that I agree.”

“Rupert, the girl has requested you. You seem to be the only one in this organization that she trusts. I believe it’s vital to our success that we foster this trust.”

Giles still looked doubtful.

“Let’s bring her in,” Travers said gesturing to the door. “You can meet with her yourself and decide.” Travers pressed the button on his intercom. “Nancy,” he said, speaking to his secretary. “We’re ready for them.”

Moments later, Faith entered, flanked by two tough-looking men dressed in dark suits. They reminded Giles of mafia hit men. He glanced at the rogue Slayer who looked out of character dressed in a white oxford shirt and gray pinstripe pants. She seemed apprehensive and unsure of herself.

Faith looked at the Watcher. “Giles…” she said, taking a step toward him. One of the thugs at her side immediately placed a hand on her shoulder. She glared at him and easily shrugged him off.

Travers cleared his throat. “Rupert, you remember Faith, of course.” He gestured to her two escorts. “This is Leslie King, and his associate Collin Danvers. They’ll be working with her as we’ve discussed.”

Giles nodded at the two men then turned his attention to Faith.

“Giles,” she began again. “I feel really awful about everything I did. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking-I want to make up for it-I really do.”

“Faith,” Giles said, regarding her coolly. “I would like to believe you, but given the nature of your past behavior, I don’t know if-“

“Giles.” Faith interrupted. “You don’t understand. I need to make up for what I did. I know I screwed up, big time. I need for you to believe in me…to give me a chance. You’re all I’ve got. And Buffy, I’d like to make it up to her too. I can help her with the slaying-make things easier for her.”

Giles contemplated what Faith had just told him. He knew that he was probably the only Council member whom she could really trust. She seemed sincere. Travers was right about the benefits of having a second slayer and if it meant helping Buffy…

“Against my better judgment,” Giles said, turning to Travers. “I’ll accept this assignment.” He glanced at Faith, his brow furrowed. ‘May God help me,’ he thought.

Faith smiled and let out a sigh of relief. “I promise, I won’t let you down,” she said.

Travers stood up and glanced around the room. “Well, now that we’ve settled that, we can get on with Faith’s training and continued rehabilitation. Her first assignment will be coming up in a couple of days…”

* * *

Spike sat in the familiar dining room and sipped blood from a crystal glass. It had been heated to body temperature and he could tell from the first sip that it was human. It tasted fresh. He glanced at his watch and noted that it was only four in the afternoon. He didn’t expect his sister to emerge from her room until sundown, as was the norm for most of their kind.

Although he found his accommodations to be most comfortable, he felt eager to get back to his hotel. He wondered if Buffy had tried to contact him or if she had decided to join him. He knew that neither scenario was likely, but he couldn’t help hoping.

Moments later, Spike was surprised by Emily who descended the staircase and entered the room. She was impeccably dressed in a tailored, black Armani pantsuit and her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. He rose to greet her.

“You’re up bright and early,” he commented as she seated herself at the table.

Emily smiled at him. “As are you,” she replied. She signaled to a servant who immediately left the room and returned a few minutes later with another crystal glass filled with the same bright red liquid as Spike’s.

“So,” Emily said, sipping her breakfast. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like the dead,” Spike replied, smirking. He looked around the room. “You’ve got a nice little set-up here, Sis. How’d you…?”

“I knew right from the start that living in a crypt was not for me.” She replied, looking appreciatively at the fine crystal glass held in her hand. Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “And after all, where would I keep all of my clothes?”

Spike’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he recalled the extensive wardrobe his sister had owned when he was alive.

“Anyway, you remember our cousin ‘Becca?”

Spike drained his cup of blood. “Of course.”

“Apparently, after the fire, the little twit was our only living relative and stood to inherit our family’s entire fortune.” Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Now, that just wouldn’t have been right.”

“So you killed her.”

“No,” Emily said, looking offended. “I told Dominick about it.”

“And he killed our cousin.”

Emily shrugged. “Well, yes, but it was necessary. I had to assume her identity to get back what was rightfully mine.” She glanced at her brother. “And yours.”

“Hmmm,” Spike said thoughtfully. “To kill with a clear conscience-just one of our many ‘gifts’. But what about all that mumbo jumbo you said about vampires and redemption-that a strong mind could overcome our inner demon? Thought you had a theory.”

“I haven’t given up on the theory,” she said quietly.

Spike arched an eyebrow. “So, do you consider yourself to be redeemed?” he asked, sounding doubtful

She drew a deep breath, slowly exhaled and shook her head. “It’s not that simple. I’ll admit, I have taken human life…many lives, actually. Our demon instincts and our urge to feed-they’re so strong. In the beginning, it was easy to fall into this new way of existing.

“People-you see them in a whole new light. They’re not Tom or Mary or Robert, but nameless faces…bodies…cattle. There’s an immediate distance between us and them.

“And Dominick, he showed me how wildly exciting it could be to embrace the darkness.” Her smile appeared sad as she spoke of her sire. “He was beyond redemption. And, for a time, so was I.”

Spike looked at his sister skeptically. “And now…?”

“And now, I think it’s possible again. You just have to want it. Most of us don’t-not really. Why would we?”

“And what changed things?” Spike asked, leaning forward. “Why would you want it now?”

Emily paused before speaking. “I think it has something to do with my having contact with humans again…with my seeing them as people and not prey. “

After Dominick left, she said, about fifty years before-she met a man. At first she was only interested in him because he reminded her of her sire. He resembled him: the same thick black hair, the same dark eyes. She followed him around for a while, watching him from afar. Stalking him. She’d originally planned to turn him and make him into her new companion, but as she watched him and saw him go about his life, she changed her mind.

His name was Daniel. He was a good man. The kind that helps little old ladies cross the street or holds the door open for people in wheelchairs. Invalids and the elderly had always been invisible to Emily. But he saw them and he helped them.

As a doctor, he spent his days and many of his nights healing the sick. Where she took lives-he saved them. She examined her own existence and came out feeling dissatisfied. Suddenly, she wanted more. She recalled the idealistic girl she’d once been. She saw glimpses of that girl in Daniel.

If she could meet him-make him fall in love with her-like a real woman…

“And did he?” Spike asked, sitting at the edge of his chair. “Did he fall in love with you?”

Emily sighed and shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Although I never really gave him the chance. I was afraid he would reject me-so I resorted to a spell.” She looked down at her now lukewarm glass of blood. “Let’s face it, Brother, do you really think a human could fall in love with a vampire?”

Spike didn’t answer.

Under the influence of magic, Emily continued, Daniel became a part of her existence. She loved him. He was everything that she wasn’t, everything that she’d forgotten. She remembered what it felt like to be alive and she almost wanted to be mortal again. Almost.

But since human life is fleeting, he inevitably began to fade. His black hair turned gray and then white. His eyes became dim, as did his mind. He forgot about her. Forgot about everything, even who he was. He became an invalid just like the ones he used to help. To her, it seemed cruel and unfair.

“I took care of him until the end…until he died, nearly five years ago,” Emily said wistfully. “I’d finally found the redemption that I’d almost forgotten about. But perhaps it’s only temporary-like a human life. I can still feel the demon stirring inside me, and I’m not sure I can continue to fight him alone.”

Spike reached over and covered her hand with his. “Sad story, Em,” he said. “Sometimes it’s tough being immortal, isn’t’ it?.”

Emily smiled sadly at her brother. “Sometimes,” she replied. “But what about you, William? I saw you save that boy the other night. Tell me, have you found your way to redemption?”

“I…” Spike shook his head. “I’m not sure. But I think there’s a chance.” He attempted a smile. “A girl…she just might be that chance. But I need to get back to my hotel…”

Buffy checked in under the name ‘Mrs. William Pierce’. She thought it funny that Spike’s last name was Pierce. ‘Spike Pierce? Could you get any more pokey?’

She was pleasantly surprised by the hotel’s elegance. It was like stepping into an episode of “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous”. At first, she’d wondered if she was in the right place. But the man at the front desk had easily found her reservation, and when she’d gotten up to the room with the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, she’d found the supply of blood in the mini-refrigerator and her sophomore year picture propped up on the nightstand.

The Slayer picked up the photo and smiled, then frowned. ‘Gotta get him something more recent. Well, maybe…we’ll see.’ She carefully put the picture back and decided to take a shower. The hot water would wash off that icky feeling she had from traveling for almost a day.

She wondered where Spike had gone, and couldn’t help hoping that he’d be back soon. After all, she’d flown halfway across the world just to be with him.

“She’s here,” Spike said incredulously as he snapped the cell phone shut. He handed it back to Emily who was seated next to him in the car. “They said she just checked in…I can’t believe she actually came to London.”

Emily faced her brother and studied him carefully. “You really love this girl, don’t you?” she asked.

The corners of his mouth turned upward and he answered without hesitation. “I do.” He leaned forward and addressed the driver. “Can’t you make this tin can go any faster?”

Emily smiled. “Patience, William. We’ll be there soon enough.”

She glanced out the window and watched passersby walking on the sidewalks…like herds of livestock. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then turned back to her brother.

“Tell me,” she said. “Does this girl feel the same way about you?”

Spike looked away. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “She knows I’m a monster…”

“I could do a spell if you’d like,” Emily suggested. “It could make you irresistible…”

Spike smirked. “Oh, I’d say that I already am. I’m the drug she just can’t give up no matter how hard she tries.” He said bitterly. “But that’s not what I want.”

“And what is it you do want?”

He shook his head. “Well, I know what I don’t want. I’m tired of being a quick fix…an artificial high that only leaves her feeling sordid and ashamed afterwards-hating herself, and me even more. I’d rather…” Spike exhaled with frustration. “But I know it’s useless. I’m just a thing…a monster. How could I be anything more?”

“William,” Emily said firmly. “You’re only a monster if you let yourself be one. It’s easy to believe that we have no control-that our fate is predestined, but ultimately we all make our own choices. Even demons like us. We’ve been dealt a tough hand, you and I. Our paths are somewhat more twisted than the average man’s, but it doesn’t mean we can’t end up in a similar place. There may be a few detours along the way, but we’ll get there.” She smiled encouragingly and patted his hand.

Spike looked doubtful. “Will we?” he asked.

“I’m sure of it.” If only she could believe her own words. “Tell me, Brother, what’s she like…this girl of yours? I’d like to meet her…”

B Buffy tilted her head up and closed her eyes, savoring the feel of the warm droplets raining down on her face. Her lips parted slightly and a small amount of water collected in her mouth. The shower felt good, but she’d stayed in much too long. Her fingertips were beginning to resemble raisins.

She stepped out of the shower and patted herself dry with a fluffy white towel. Using her hands, she wrung the water from her long blond hair then wrapped the towel around her head like a turban. She put on one of the hotel’s thick terrycloth robes and cinched the belt around her waist.

The mirror above the sink was completely fogged. Buffy cleared a circle with her hand and stared at her reflection. She looked flushed from the shower. She pressed her hands against her head, blotting the wetness from her hair, then removed the towel, revealing a tangle of damp waves.

Scanning the counter, she realized that she’d left her cosmetics case on the bed. She spied a black toiletry bag. It looked new. She imagined Spike buying it, or rather stealing it, special, for the trip.

In need of a comb-and curious, she picked up the vampire’s bag and opened it. Its contents seemed so normal: A razor, shaving cream, toothpaste, a toothbrush, and mouthwash. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought that the bag belonged to a regular guy-of the live variety. It was all very deceptive.

Buffy continued sorting through the toiletries until she came across a small black comb. She pulled it out and looked at it doubtfully. ‘A little wimpy,’ she thought. It would’ve been like trying to take out a meadow with a weed-whacker.

She was about to exit the bathroom and retrieve her cosmetics case, but paused when she heard voices. Someone had entered the room. She placed an ear against the door and listened.

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, pet.” It was Spike’s voice.

A woman answered. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t stay long.”

Buffy’s mouth hung open as she realized that Spike wasn’t alone, that he was with…another woman! Her eyes narrowed. And he’d called her pet! She heard Spike offer the woman something to drink. “No thanks. You know I only like it heated just right,” the female said. There was a certain intimacy in her tone.

‘Omigod!’ Buffy looked around the bathroom for her clothes but realized that she had left them on the bed. She couldn’t believe that she’d come all the way from Sunnydale only to find that Spike had met someone else.

‘Omigod!’ she thought again. ‘He’s with another woman!’ She felt a lump in her throat. ‘Bastard!’ She glared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘I’m the one who’s supposed to move on-not him!’

She took a deep breath, straightened her robe and stood a little taller. ‘Okay Buffy, let’s do this with dignity. Get your stuff and get the Hell outta here!’

She took another deep breath and opened the door. As she entered the room, she felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. She looked immediately at Spike who jerked his head toward her and started to smile. She then turned to the woman standing in front of the bed. She was pretty: petite, brunette and strangely familiar. Buffy stood there, mortified, as she noticed that the woman was looking at her high school photograph.

“Buffy-“ Spike said, taking a step toward her.

Buffy gaped at the two vampires and found herself unable to speak. Her higher faculties seemed to be on vacation. Baser instincts took over. Instincts that told her to flee…run…to just leave! She quickly turned and rushed out the door. Behind her, Spike was saying something, but it sounded all garbled like the guy reading back your order at the Jack-in-the-Box drive-thru.

Clad in a bathrobe, hair still damp, and barefoot, Buffy fled down the hallway. When she reached the elevator, she immediately began punching the down button with her index finger. ‘Dammit!’ She felt tears starting to form and blinked repeatedly, determined to hold them at bay.

Someone from behind her put a hand on her shoulder. She batted it away. Two hands grabbed her and turned her around. Spike. He looked all blurry. He tilted his head to one side and gazed at her sympathetically. Cool hands cupped her hot face and fingers brushed away the tears that had started to flow uncontrollably.

“Buffy…pet,” Spike said, still stroking her face with his fingers.

“Pet?” The Slayer stared at him angrily. “Is that what you call all your women?”

“What?” His brow furrowed with confusion. “Luv what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Buffy asked hysterically. She hammered his chest with her fists, until he gently stopped her and held her hands still. She glared up at him. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong!” she said. “I’m such an idiot! That’s what’s wrong! And you! You’re such a jerk! I can’t believe I came all this way…only to find you with…”

“My sister?”

“That little tramp…That…Your-wha?” Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. “What did you just say?”

Spike smiled and kissed her forehead. “Emily’s my sister, luv. My only living relative…in a manner of speaking.”

* * *

There was an uncomfortable silence as two vampires and a Slayer stood facing each other in the posh hotel room.

“Emily,” Spike said, breaking the silence. “This is Buffy. Buffy…Emily.”

The two women stared at each other cautiously.

Spike laughed nervously. “Emily, as it turns out, is not only a vampire, but a really powerful witch as well.” He winked at Buffy. “Let’s just say that she sorta makes Willow look like a muggle, eh?”

Buffy’s eyes widened with alarm and she looked apprehensively at the demon that would undoubtedly be considered a major threat by the Watchers’ Council.

“Oh, and by the way,” Spike added casually. “I forgot to mention to you Em, Buffy happens to be a Slayer.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed as she studied the girl who dusted vampires for a living.

Spike looked at Buffy, then at his sister, and then back at Buffy again. He clapped his hands together and made a weak attempt at a smile. “Well then, now that the bloody introductions are over, I think it’s time for Sis here to get going. Slayer and I have a lot to…uh, discuss.”

He started ushering his sister out of the room. Before opening the door, he whispered something to her. Emily looked at him and sniffed. She turned to Buffy and smiled coldly. “It was very nice meeting you,” she said stiffly.

“Likewise,” Buffy responded with barely feigned sincerity.

Emily then exited the room without a second glance, leaving a trace of Chanel lingering in the air.

Spike turned to Buffy and shrugged. “Don’t worry, she’ll grow on you, I’m sure,” he said. He crossed the distance between them in three long strides and enveloped her in his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He grinned, making him appear about eighteen. A young schoolboy smitten for the first time. “You surprised me!” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you came.”

She looked at him and bit her bottom lip. “I guess I surprised me to,” she admitted. “I still don’t know what I’m doing here. I…“

His eyes looked so blue, dreamy-you could get lost in eyes like that. What was she going to say? Suddenly she didn’t know. Acting on impulse, Buffy stood on her tiptoes and locked lips with his. She wanted to kiss him so completely-so thoroughly-she wanted to devour him.

Spike’s hands roved up and down her body. ‘God! He knows how to push all the right buttons!’ she thought. It amazed her how he could do that. She felt herself melt in his cool embrace. So much for discussion-they’d probably only bicker anyway.

She let out a slight gasp as his lips tickled her ear and he whispered, “I love you, Slayer.”

She closed her eyes, held him close and pretended that it was really true.