Chapter 15: A Difference of Opinion
 
 

"The thought of you and me and me and you/it's clear, it's blurry/your head, my mind, your mind, my head, as one/it's real, the foolish worry/I feel you and you feel me as I feel you/it's good, it's scary/the speed, the heat, it's deep, and steep/it's light but hard to carry/ listen when I'm silent there's a/SOUND that only you can hear..." ~K's Choice, "A Sound That Only You Can Hear"
 
 

Spike was not a good liar. Oh, he could bluff his way through a game of poker with the best of them. He could lie without compunction to people he cared nothing about. Ask him to lie to someone he loved, however, and it was a completely different story.

Which was why the first words out of his mouth were, "Bloody hell. What do you know, Bit?"

"I heard you guys talking last night," she replied. "You were talking about Glory and me and the Council."

Spike ran through a number of phrases in his head, but none of them were things he should be saying out loud in front of a child. "Didn't your mum ever tell you that it's not good manners to eavesdrop, Niblet?"

Dawn fixed him with a glare, not willing to be sidetracked. "How else am I ever going to find out anything?" she demanded.

Spike sighed. He'd known this day was coming. Dawn was too sharp to not notice that something was up. Her questions a few weeks ago about the crazy guy's reaction to her in the hospital, and then what Joyce had said to her during her dementia, had been warning enough. It was really only a matter of time before the truth came out.

"I can't, luv," he finally said, pulling away from the curb in front of the school.

Dawn glared at him. "You mean you won't."

"No, I mean I can't," Spike replied. "Not without talkin' to your mum an' Buffy first. Love you, Dawn, but I'm not in charge here."

Dawn sat back in her seat sullenly. "Buffy never wants me to know anything."

"Your sis wants to make sure you're protected," Spike corrected. "That's important to her, 'cause you're important. Might not be fair, but that's the way it is."

"So you're not going to tell me anything."

"I'm going to talk to Joyce first," Spike said. Dawn was looking at him with those huge blue eyes of hers, but he refused to be moved. He was in enough trouble as it was; Buffy would be furious that he hadn't lied.

She would be furious that Dawn was even aware that there was something to know.

"Fine," Dawn grumbled, not at all appeased. "It's so not fair, though."

"Yeah, well, join the club," Spike replied, not looking forward to the coming discussion.

~~~~~

Spike made certain that Dawn was in the kitchen, doing her homework, before calling Joyce at the art gallery. "Is everything okay?" Joyce asked upon hearing his voice.

"That's a matter for debate," he hedged, and then quickly described his conversation with Dawn.

"Does Buffy know?" Joyce asked, sounding immediately in control and in charge. Spike was happy to follow her lead on this one. Dawn was, after all, her daughter. He didn't want the responsibility of explaining that she wasn't actually real.

"Not yet."

"Good," Joyce commented. "What do you think, William?"

Although Spike was a little surprised to be asked his opinion on things, he had no problem giving it. "Tell her the truth. She'll just nose around till she figures it out for herself anyway, an' that won't be pleasant. 'Least this way you can control what she's hearin'."

"That's what I was thinking also," she agreed. "Will you tell Dawn that I'll talk with her tonight? And don't worry about calling Buffy. It might be better if I do that."

Spike breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn't have to be the one to tell Buffy that the news had been broken, albeit inadvertently. "Right. I'll see you when you get home then."

He hung up the phone and turned to see Dawn watching him. "Thought you were supposed to be doin' your homework, luv."

"Did you talk to Mom?"

He nodded shortly. "Yeah, Bit. Joyce'll talk with you when she gets home from the gallery." He moved to go past her, a little put out by her anger with him. After all, it wasn't as though Spike had done anything wrong.

Dawn's hand on his arm stopped him. "Spike? Is it bad?"

Spike paused and drew in a deep breath. "No. I don't think it's bad, Niblet." He put a friendly arm over her shoulders. "Your mum will tell you all about it when she gets home, but no matter what, 'm here for you, yeah?"

"Yeah," the girl replied, knowing that she could trust him in that area at least. Spike had never let her down before.

~~~~~

Joyce made the decision to tell Dawn herself, with just the two of them. Right after she got home, she took her youngest daughter upstairs to her room. Spike stayed downstairs, waiting for Giles and Buffy, who were supposed to be arriving shortly.

The ex-Watcher showed up first, and he frowned when he didn't see either Joyce or Dawn. "How are things going?"

Spike shrugged. "Hard to say. Haven't heard any ungodly shrieking or anythin' like that, an' I'll take that as a good sign."

"Indeed." There was a moment's pause, and then Giles gave Spike a sharp look. "You couldn't have lied to her?"

"'m not a good liar," Spike protested. "An' that's s'posed to be a good thing, I thought."

Giles had to admit that the other man had a point. He certainly hadn't expected Dawn to ferret the truth out for herself. "I must admit that I didn't think the truth would come out like this. We'll have to tell the others soon, too."

Spike gave him a disbelieving look. "You didn't think Dawn would know somethin' was up?" He snorted. "You lot don't give that girl enough credit. She's a sharp one."

"Obviously," Giles said drily. "We'll have to be more careful from now on, certainly."

Spike might have replied, but Buffy came rushing into the house. "Where's Mom?" she demanded. "She left me a message saying that she was going to tell Dawn about her being the Key."

"She's upstairs," Spike said, grabbing her arm when she tried to hurry past. "Buffy, I don't think now's a good time. You should let your mum tell Dawn her own way."

The Slayer glared at him. "She wasn't supposed to tell Dawn at all. Dawn wasn't supposed to find out."

"Well, she did," Spike snapped. "The Niblet was eavesdroppin' the other night when we were talkin' it over, an' then she ambushed me with questions when I picked her up from school. Joyce didn't have much of a choice."

Spike was sorry he'd said anything, because Buffy's anger refocused on him. "And you couldn't lie to her?"

"I suck at lying," Spike exclaimed. "Bloody hell! You lot should remember that's a good thing."

"And now Dawn knows and she's going to freak," Buffy hissed. "Didn't you think about that before you spilled the beans?"

Giles laid a calming hand on her arm. "Buffy, you know Spike didn't tell Dawn anything. He simply didn't deny her questions, and maybe that's for the best. If she were to stumble across the truth herself, that could be quite traumatic."

Buffy was not pacified. "I don't see how you could tell her without asking me first. I'm the Slayer. I'm the one that's supposed to be protecting her!"

"And I'm her mother," Joyce said quietly as she came down the stairs. "It was my decision to make. Spike made a good point. At least this way I could tell her the truth and reassure her at the same time."

Buffy looked from one to the other, anger and betrayal on her face. "Fine. I'm going to go patrol."

She pointedly did not invite Spike.

Spike watched her go. He'd anticipated her being upset, but hadn't expected her to be quite that mad. "Spike?" He turned to face Joyce. "Dawn needs you."

"Right. I'll just go see her then." Spike took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the youngest Summers' door. "Niblet?" When he got no response, he slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind him. "You okay?"

"I guess." The girl had the remains of tears on her face, and her voice was shaky enough that Spike knew she wasn't as okay as she wanted him to think. "It's just weird."

"Yeah, it is a bit," Spike acknowledged, sitting on the bed next to her. "Couldn't believe it myself when your sister first told me. Have all these memories of you, from way back. Didn't seem right."

Dawn looked over at him. "So do you love me because the monks made you? Is that the only reason Mom loves me? And Buffy—"

"Shh," he said, as she started to sound a little hysterical. "No, 's not why I love you. I still loved you after Buffy told me 'bout you bein' the Key. Have you noticed any difference in how I treat you? Huh?"

Dawn shook her head. "No, but...I'm not real, Spike. I mean, I shouldn't even exist!"

"An' I should?" Dawn met Spike's eyes for the first time, sensing the pain in his voice. "I was a vampire, luv, an' pretty much as nasty as you could get. An' then I was human again. Most people would tell you I shouldn't be real, or I should've been dead a hundred an' twenty years ago."

She opened her mouth to argue, to complain that it wasn't the same, but then shut it again. It wasn't the same, but yet it was. They were both creatures of chance, of someone else's whim. Spike existed because of Drusilla and the Initiative. Dawn existed because of some weird monks.

That was just Sunnydale.

"I don't have any family," Dawn said quietly. "I mean, not really. Mom, and Buffy—"

"You're mine," Spike said in a low, fierce voice. "Don't care what your mum or your sister decide, though I know they've already made their choice. But you're mine, because without you, an' Buffy, an' your mum, I don't have any family either. An' without us, Tara's alone. 's not just you, Dawn."

His tone was gentle, but the words had the effect of a slap to the face of someone who had gone into hysterics. Dawn was quickly reminded that things could be worse, that a fake mom and fake sister who wanted her (or at least a fake mom who wanted her) was better than no one wanting her at all.

"Your mum asked me if I thought we should tell you the truth," Spike said quietly. "An' I said I thought we should, because I knew you could handle it. You're a strong girl, Dawn Summers. One of these days you'll be an exceptional woman."

If Spike's previous admonition had been a slap, these words were a balm. Dawn found herself throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. And, as her previous tears in her mother's presence had soothed, so did the arms of the ex-vampire.

~~~~~

"Do you think we should check on them?" Giles asked. He had an arm around Joyce, trying to comfort her. Revealing the truth to Dawn had apparently been as traumatic for her as hearing it had been for the girl.

Joyce sighed, wiping a stray tear with one hand. "No, I don't think so. Spike—" She hesitated. "Spike is so good with her. I have a feeling he'll know just what to say to make things right." Then she added, "I just hope Buffy comes around."

Giles pulled her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "I'm sure Buffy will come around in time. It really was inevitable that Dawn find out."

What more either of them might have said was lost as they gave into the sensation of lips on lips and hands on skin.

~~~~~

There was at least a small part of Buffy that knew she was overreacting, at least to Spike's part in the whole mess. It wasn't like it was his fault that her nosy little sister had chosen to eavesdrop on the conversation. Nor did he have any control over whom Dawn hit up for information.

On the other hand, Buffy was furious, and she needed to be mad at someone. Spike seemed like a good pick. Never mind logic for the moment.

It mostly had to do with the fact that Dawn finding out she was the Key illustrated how much she wasn't in control of the situation. If her sister could find out so easily, what was stopping Glory from making the same discovery? She was the Slayer; she was supposed to be in charge.

Buffy hated not being in charge.

Of course, Dawn knowing about the Key meant that she would have to tell her friends as well. Telling them meant she would also have to explain keeping the secret for as long as she had, which would not be fun. At least this time she would have Giles and Spike on her side, rather than standing alone on the side of keeping silent.

She'd also have to apologize to Spike at some point, which sucked. Buffy hated apologies.

First stop, however, was to call a Scooby meeting. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Tonight, Buffy wanted to kill something. Possibly lots of somethings.

~~~~~

They gathered in the Summers' home, sitting on the couch, perching on chairs, lounging on the floor. For the first time, Joyce was present. Dawn had begged to be able to stay up, but the vote had been a unanimous "no." Mostly, no one wanted the girl present since they were going to be discussing her.

Of course, both Spike and Joyce were well aware that Dawn would be listening on the stairs. They just decided not to say anything about it.

"So Dawn is the Key that Glory's looking for?" Willow asked. "That's just—"

"Weird," Xander muttered. He was feeling highly uncomfortable with the fact that his memories had been played with to such an extent.

Anya was probably taking it with the most aplomb. "It's really not that weird," she said. "Giving the Key to the Slayer was a stroke of genius, actually."

"Right," Buffy said. "Genius. It's really important that this doesn't get out, guys. I didn't want to tell you because it could put you in danger."

"But you told Spike," Xander accused. "And like we're not in danger all the time."

"Buffy didn't have a choice 'bout tellin' me," Spike said from his position leaning against the wall. "Walked in on her when she found out."

Although Buffy had yet to apologize, or even really speak to him, she appreciated his support. It was yet another reminder of his devotion, and it just brought on the guilt feelings again.

The others were mollified by Spike's explanation for his own knowledge. "There's more," Giles said, giving Buffy an apologetic look.

"More?" Buffy asked.

Giles sighed. "The Council has information on Glory. They're, uh, on their way, actually. It seems they feel the information is best delivered in person."

"They're coming here?" Buffy demanded, a defninite note of hysteria in her voice. "Giles, make them not come here. I don't trust them."

"More Watchers?" Tara asked. "Isn't that okay? Like more Gileses, right?"

"Not quite," Spike said drily. "Some of those blokes are right bastards."

Buffy let out a quick breath. "What he said. They almost killed me when they took away my Slayer powers with that test. And then they almost killed me again when I was in Faith's body. I probably would be dead if Spike and Tara hadn't figured out the switch."

"You had things under control, luv," Spike said. "But I think I have to agree with the Slayer. This is a volatile situation to be introducin' new players into."

"What about Dawn?" Joyce asked. "Do they know she's the Key? Do they need to know?"

"They aren't going to know," Buffy stated firmly. "It isn't any of their business."

"I have to agree with that, Rupert," Spike agreed. "Best if it's kept quiet."

The others were nodding. "They're okay with former demons, right?" Anya asked. "I mean, they just get cranky about current demons. Right?"

Xander patted her knee with the hand not in a cast. "If they want you, they'll have to come through me, An."

Anya didn't look too reassured, and Spike intervened before the ex-demon could say anything to irreparably damage Xander's manhood. "They'd have to take exception to me too, luv."

"That's not going to happen," Buffy said. "It's fine. It's going to be fine. They'll come, they'll give us the information, and then they will go home. Even if I have to kick their asses all the way back to England."

~~~~~

Spike slipped out of the Summers' home that night before Buffy could stop him. He was tired of the drama, tired of always defending himself and his actions, past and present. What he really wanted was a good night's sleep and the opportunity to go and bury himself in work for the next couple days. With the Council in town, the Slayer's fuse was certain to be shorter than Spike had any desire to deal with.

Sleep, however, was elusive, and Spike found himself wondering what the bloody hell he was doing in a relationship with the Slayer. It wasn't just that he once was a vampire, but also that he was now human. Dracula's words from the end of the summer were coming back to haunt him. He wondered if he really was dark enough, strong enough, for Buffy to really love. Or, perhaps he was too dark, had been too dark. Maybe he had too much blood on his hands to expect her to trust him.

Because she really didn't—trust him. If Buffy had any faith at all in him, she wouldn't have gotten so upset with him just because he didn't come up with a quick lie to placate Dawn.

After only a few hours of highly unsatisfactory tossing and turning, Spike rose to go into the gallery. At least running the gallery was something he did, and did well. Joyce trusted him implicitly, and that was a balm to his wounded spirit at this point.

Spike had immersed himself in work when two men and a woman dressed in business attire entered. "Be right with you!" he called, biting back a sigh. Joyce had decided not to come in, since Dawn needed the reassurance of her mother's presence at the moment.

He filed the invoice away and went out to meet his customers. "May I help you?"

"Are you William the Bloody?" the woman asked.

Spike frowned. "Who—" He stopped, realizing from the accent and dress that he was hosting members of the Watchers' Council. "Watchers. Yeah, that would be me. I go by William Giles now, though."

"Yes, so we've heard," one of the men said, contempt dripping from his tone. Apparently the Council had as much respect for ex-vampires as current ones. "I understand that you are aiding the Slayer."

Spike's eyebrows went up. "I patrol with her on occasion. Kept all my fighting skills, even if I don't have the same strength." He allowed just a touch of bloodthirstiness to come into his eyes. "Could still snap your neck without givin' it much thought."

There was a certain amount of satisfaction to be gained from watching them back off a couple steps. "What do you want?" he asked shortly. "I've got a gallery to run here."

"What exactly is your role where it concerns the Slayer?" the woman asked.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "I think we already went over this. Told you, I help the Slayer on occasion. I also have a job, an' I watch out for Dawn. Oh, yeah, an' we're sleepin' together, not that it's any of your business." He took a step forward, invading her space. "What's this about then? What does it matter what I do?"

"We are conducting a review of the Slayer and her methods," the woman said primly. Underneath the bloodless exterior, Spike could detect some heat. No, not heat. Attraction.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Is that right? An' you want to know—from an ex-vampire who was instrumental in killin' two Slayers—how Buffy's doin'?"

"Well, yes, actually," the woman replied. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," Spike decided, flipping the "Open" sign over. "I can take a bit of a lunch break." He gave her a look. "Seems a bit unfair that you know my name when I don't know yours, pet."

"I, uh, I'm Lydia Chalmers." Spike took the hand she held out with smooth charm. "I actually did my thesis on you. Or, well, on William the Bloody."

"Isn't that neat," Spike murmured. "Well, then you know I'm something of an expert on Slayers myself. An' I'll tell you this much—Buffy's the best Slayer I've ever seen, an' I saw more than the two I killed."

Lydia blinked at the sudden change in tone, from smooth to sharp in no time flat. "Well, she seems a bit unorthodox."

"Why do you think I never killed her?" Spike asked. "Had her on my fangs, so to speak, an' never quite managed to do the deed. Girl's the best there is, maybe the best there ever will be. Take it from an expert." He smiled, suddenly warm. "Why don't you tell me all about yourself, luv?"

His sudden change in tone had her flustered again. "I—well, there really isn't anything very interesting to tell, you know. Not like you." One of his comments suddenly registered. "You've seen more Slayers than just the two?"

"Certainly," Spike replied. "Total of five. Was a bit busy when I ran into the other two, however. A bit—preoccupied, shall we say? If you wrote your thesis on William the Bloody, I would think you had some questions you were dyin' to ask, an' now's your chance." He was nearly purring at this point, really laying it on thick for the bint. Spike figured he'd make certain that at least one member of the Watcher's Council would be putty in the Slayer's very capable hands.

As Lydia blushed even more deeply, Spike smiled; he had her just where he wanted her.

Oh, yeah. The Big Bad hadn't lost it.

~~~~~

Buffy put a shaky hand to her face. She hated the fact that the Council could put her under their thumb so easily. She hated that she hadn't gotten a chance to call Spike and warn him that Watchers were on their way. Most of all, she hated that she had to play the Council's silly little games while Glory was on the loose, after her sister, and in her house.

She had to figure out some place to stash her mom and sister while she went through with the freakin' Watcher tests, and there was only one person she could think of.

And he wasn't even talking to her right now.

"Mom, get some stuff together," Buffy said. "You guys can't stay here right now."

There was one good thing about Dawn knowing her true identity; Glory showing up at the house, demanding her Key had put the fear of God into her. Buffy was actually pretty proud of her sister. In spite of seriousness of the situation, Dawn had been smart and sassy, which meant that Glory hadn't a clue who Dawn really was at this point.

The ride over to the gallery was silent, no one knowing quite what to say. Buffy walked inside, Joyce and Dawn close on her heels. She watched as Spike looked up at the ringing of the bell. "Buffy? What's wrong?"

"I need you to take mom and Dawn for a while, somewhere safe," she said quickly. The Slayer grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the back office. "Your apartment, or somewhere, I don't know."

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the near panic in her eyes.

Buffy looked away. "Glory was in my house, and I have to go do the Council's tests. Someone has to look out for them."

"Was anybody—No, 'course they weren't. You lot wouldn't be here if somebody got hurt." Spike let out his breath in a rush and ran a hand through his hair. "Bloody, buggerin' hell," he muttered. "Right then. Safe. My apartment or the old mansion, I s'pose. Those are the only two places I can think of."

Buffy frowned, trying to think. "What's the safest?"

"Mansion," Spike said immediately. "Even if she'd find us, there's lots of hidin' places an' more than one exit. Glory finds us in my place somehow, there's no more than one way in or out."

She nodded. "Mansion then. I'll come get you guys when it's safe." The Slayer hesitated. "Did the Watchers come?"

Spike grinned broadly. "Yeah, an' I gave 'em an earful. Told 'em you were the best Slayer that's ever lived."

"Oh, Spike." Buffy suddenly grabbed him in a desperate hug. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I know you didn't mean to tell Dawn, and I know you're doing your best. I'm just—"

"Goin' a bit crazy?" he suggested, his arms coming around to hold her. "Buffy-luv, these Watchers think they've got power over you, but you just remember—you're the Slayer. Without the Slayer, Council's redundant, nothin'. In the end, you're the one with the power."

They kissed, saying through their actions what they couldn't put into words. "Knock 'em dead, Slayer."

~~~~~

By the time Buffy got done dropping off Joyce and Dawn with Spike, she was already running a bit late for her appointment with Quentin Travers. (And just the thought of his name made Buffy wish horrible things on him.) It didn't help that she was stopped on her way back to the Magic Box by rejects from the Renaissance fair.

The last thing she needed was more people out to kill her. Glory wanted to kill her to get to the Key. The random vampire and demon wanted to kill her because she was the Slayer. And now these freaks wanted her dead because she was protecting the Key.

She just couldn't win.

Except that she could. She was, after all, the Slayer, as Spike had so kindly reminded her. Buffy could keep Dawn safe, defeat the bad guys, and send the Council packing. Because she was the Slayer.

Buffy was finally beginning to understand just what that meant.

It was with that understanding that she walked into the Magic Box full of confidence as to how the next few minutes were going to go. "You're late," Travers commented as she entered.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?" Giles asked, standing from his position on the stairs, seeing the sword in her hand. "Was there an attack?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied.

Travers didn't even seem to register that information. "Well, we can begin the review. We'll skip the more obvious questions, and—"

"There's not going to be a review," Buffy said evenly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"There's not going to be a review," the Slayer repeated. "See, I've had all these people telling me how unimportant I am the last few days. Glory came to my house today—"

"Buffy!" Giles interrupted. "Are you—"

"I'm fine," she said, waving off his concern. "She told me I was a flea, a bug, that she was going to squash me, but she didn't. We had what in her world probably passes for a conversation, and that was it. You know why? Because I have something she wants."

The Slayer's eyes glittered. "I have what you want," she told Travers. "You didn't come here to figure out if I was good enough to be let back in. You wanted me to let you in. You might have the information, but as someone reminded me today, I'm the Slayer. I have the power. Without me, you can't do jack."

"This is beyond insolence—" one of the Watchers sputtered.

The sword quivering in the wall just inches from his nose shut him up pretty quickly. "Deal with it," Buffy said. "So this is how it's going to work. You're going to give Giles his job back with pay—"

Giles cough didn't quite hide the word "retroactively."

"—retroactive to the month he was fired," Buffy continued smoothly. "You're going to give me all the information you have on Glory, and then you'll contact me if you find anything else. And then me and my friends are going to go back to what we do best."

It didn't really come as a surprise to anyone that Buffy got exactly what she wanted.

~~~~~

Entry from Dawn's diary:

Buffy got so freaked out when Glory appeared at our house today. I thought her head was going to explode or something. I knew she wanted me to leave, and then Glory saw me. And she was all like, "Your big sis has my Key." And then I was all like, "My sister could kick your ass with one leg tied behind her."

That probably doesn't make a lot of sense out loud, but it sounded really cool in my head.

So now we're in the really creepy mansion that Angel had, because Spike is supposed to be looking after Mom and me. It's cool, though, since Spike's here. I don't think he could really do anything against Glory though. I mean, if Buffy's scared of her, then she's pretty tough, even though she doesn't look like it.

I think they've pretty much made up now, though. I know Buffy was really upset with him for not lying to me about being the Key, but maybe it'll be okay now. I hate it when they fight. It's like when Mom and Dad fought, only worse, because now I know what it'll feel like if Spike ever leaves.

~~~~~

They were downstairs on Buffy's couch, with Joyce and Dawn safely asleep upstairs. "Thank you for keeping them safe today, Spike."

"My pleasure, luv," he replied. Spike was relishing the feel of her head on his shoulder, wondering how he could have even contemplated giving this up. There was nothing in the world that could make him leave. "Don't know that I did all that much, though."

"You were there," she said. "Plus, that whole pep talk about the Council, telling me I had the power? You were right."

Spike smiled. "I love it when you say that."

"What? That you were right?" Buffy pulled back and looked him in the eye. "You were right about Dawn too, you know. It was better to tell her this way, especially if she was getting suspicious. And it definitely isn't your fault she's nosy. I'm blaming the monks."

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "An' you weren't nosy at fifteen, luv?"

"Maybe a little," Buffy admitted. "But that was with good cause." She thought about it, and then added, "Which Dawn had too. I just hate that I can't protect her from all of this. From being the Key, from Glory, everything. Glory's a god, Spike. What am I supposed to do against a god?"

"I dunno," he admitted. "But I imagine you'll figure it out, Buffy. You're the Slayer. 's what you do."

"Are we good?" Buffy asked softly, a plaintive note in her voice. "I mean, you'd have every right to still be mad, but—"

"We're good," he said, giving her a kiss. "Love you, Buffy, even when you're bein' a bit of a bitch."

She winced. "Yeah, I deserved that. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"For certain."

Spike didn't go home after that. Instead, he went straight to Giles' flat.

A very sleepy Giles answered the door. The newly reinstated Watcher was exhausted from the emotional roller-coaster of the last couple days. "Spike? Is everything okay?"

"Right now? Yeah," Spike replied. "But I think we need to talk about Dawn. Might be wise to think about gettin' out of Dodge."

"Buffy would never—"

"Not Buffy," Spike replied. "Dawn. I think we need to come up with a plan B."
 

Chapter 16: Dreams and Portents
 

"When you are old and grey and full of sleep,/And nodding by the fire, take down this book,/And slowly read, and dream of the soft look/Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;/How many loved your moments of glad grace,/And loved your beauty with love false or true,/But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,/And loved the sorrows in your changing face;/And bending down beside the glowing bars,/Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled/And paced upon the mountains overhead/And hid his face amid a crowd of stars." ~William Butler Yeats, "When You Are Old"
 

"You certainly seem to be doing better these days, William," Michael commented. They were each nursing a glass of very good scotch in the rectory. The minister did not drink much, as a rule, but the liquor he did have on hand was of the highest quality. Good scotch, he had confessed, was one of the small vices he allowed himself, as was good coffee. "As Abraham Lincoln once said, people who have no vices have very few virtues."

Spike, to be quite honest, had seen worse vices, and had met few men who were more virtuous than Father Michael. "I am," he replied. "Seems I've turned a corner."

"We do that on occasion in our lives," Michael said. "Ups and downs are common, no matter how well adjusted you might seem to be."

Spike shrugged. "Joyce is better, which is a load off my mind. Dawn's doin' good. Buffy—" he sighed. "Buffy an' me are okay right now. Her birthday's day after tomorrow though."

"Have you already gotten a gift?" Michael asked, taking another sip of his drink.

Spike pulled a small black box out of his pocket, passing it over to the minister without a word. They had been meeting a couple times every month, just to talk. Although Spike still wasn't certain that he could rekindle his childhood belief in God, it had somehow become important for him to know that there was at least the possibility. With all the evil in the world, it helped to think that there might also be a great force for good, other than one small girl, her friends and the efforts of a few men.

Michael let out a low whistle when he saw the ring. "I cannot see any woman being displeased with this kind of gift, William. You don't seem nearly as excited about it, however."

"Buffy's just turnin' twenty," Spike explained. "I want to ask her to marry me, an' maybe not right away, but I don't want to tie her down either. Girl hasn't hardly experienced life. Seems a bit unfair to demand she spend it with the likes of me."

The older man lifted an eyebrow. "That's the beauty of a proposal, William. The woman generally has the right of refusal."

"I just wonder sometimes," Spike admitted. "Not that I want to leave her, or that I'd want her to leave me. I think it would just about destroy me. But, I wonder if she wants forever, not when she's barely out of the school room."

"I think that's a decision you'd best leave to her, lad," Michael said gently. "If you're willing to wait for her, there's nothing wrong with asking now." Changing the subject, he asked, "Have you heard back about your manuscript yet?"

Spike shook his head. "Bracin' myself for a rejection letter right now, but that's alright. Didn't let that stop me when I was writin' poetry, so 'm hardly gonna let it stop me now I'm writin' prose."

"Well, if you're thinking about a different career choice, the principal at the high school is one of my parishioners," Michael said. "She's looking for a new English teacher, and I would be happy to pass along your name."

Spike snorted in disbelief. "Don't have the references, mate."

"I've heard they aren't that picky at Sunnydale High," Michael said wryly. "The death rate seems to discourage that."

He thought about it, then shrugged. "You want to pass along my name, that would be fine," Spike finally said. "Doubt she'll want me, but it doesn't hurt to give it a shot."

"No, it doesn't." Michael stood as Spike did. "So, if you aren't going to propose to your girl, did you get her something else?"

Spike grinned. "Sure I did. Sharp an' pointy, just like she likes."

Michael raised an eyebrow, and then asked slyly, "I assume you're talking about a weapon."

Spike looked shocked for a moment that the minister's mind would even go there, but then he chuckled in appreciation. "Yeah, 's a new sword. She'll love it."

"I'm sure she will," Michael replied, walking him to the door. A sudden sense of apprehension caught him, and he laid a warning hand on Spike's shoulder. "Be careful out there, William. The world would be a poor place without you in it."

"Likewise, Father," Spike said, looking a bit confused. "Likewise."

~~~~~

Buffy rose with a sense of unease. The day just felt wrong for some reason. She went downstairs slowly, seeing her mom in the kitchen. "Have you seen William?" Joyce asked. "You don't want to lose track of him, you know. He's so good for you."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Do you know where he is?"

"Don't lose him, Buffy," Joyce warned. "Life is so fragile."

Buffy blinked and found herself at the Bronze with her friends. Spike was nowhere to be seen, and she was beginning to grow concerned. "Have you guys seen Spike?"

"Am I my brother's keeper?" Tara asked in reply. "You really should keep better track of your boyfriends, Buffy. Love slips away so easily, just like our minds. It's so easy to lose."

Willow was holding a sword; she was dressed like a warrior. "Remember, Buffy, you have to be careful. You fight for those you love and avenge the hurt."

"I love Spike." Buffy knew that for a fact, and yet it felt hazy, unformed, like it didn't make nearly as much sense as it was supposed to. Did she love Spike? What part of Spike did she love?

As though her silent question had summoned him, Buffy saw him emerge from the crowd. "Do you love me, Buffy?" he asked. His hair was shorter than it had been in a while, and bleached. "Do you love all of me?" he asked as his face changed to that of the demon's. "Do you love even this version of me, Slayer?"

They were suddenly standing in an older corner of a cemetery, one of the areas Buffy rarely visited. The Slayer was not needed among the oldest tombstones usually, as their occupants rested peacefully. "Because I love all of you."

Then the sun rose, and Spike turned to ash.

And Buffy woke.

~~~~~

Spike was a little startled to find Buffy at his door at six in the morning. Granted, he was already awake and ready to go for his morning run, but the Slayer had never even expressed an interest in joining him. Yet there she was, dressed in yoga pants and a jacket, and looking way too good to be going anywhere at all.

In fact, skipping the run for exercise of another sort seemed like the better option.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," Spike said, stepping back from the door to let her pass, "but what are you doin' here?"

"Can't a girl just want to see her guy?"

It was a nice thought, but it was also six in the morning, and Buffy was anything but a morning person. Spike wasn't much of a morning person, either, but the world of work put demands on a guy's schedule. "It's early, luv, an' you've never said anythin' about comin' with me before."

She sighed. "I had this dream last night, and you were in it—and not in a good way, I might add. So I thought I'd check on you."

"Check on me, huh?" Spike asked, leaning down and kissing her thoroughly, something he hadn't quite gotten around to yet. "So how 'm I doin'?"

"In the kissing department, I'd give you a ten out of ten," she said, but the smile she gave him didn't quite reach her eyes.

Spike pulled her over to the sofa and sat her down. "What was this dream about, Buffy? Because you seem pretty shaken up."

"I kept looking for you," she said, not meeting his eyes. "But I couldn't find you. And then, when I did find you, you were a vampire."

He blinked, and then pulled her into a hug. "Was it a Slayer dream?"

"I don't know," she said in a soft voice. "Maybe it's just the pre-birthday jitters, because my birthdays all suck."

There was nothing Spike knew so well as the girl in his arms, and so he could hear the "but" at the end of her sentence, even if it was left unspoken. "But—"

"It's just that I had this dream before—before Angelus, and I had the same feeling then." She pulled away to look up at him. "Spike, just promise me that you'll be extra careful for the next few days."

"Buffy—"

"Just promise me."

"I promise," he said. "You know I don't want anythin' to ruin your birthday."

"So can I go running with you?" Buffy asked.

Spike smiled. "Yeah, if you like. Didn't know you enjoyed runnin'."

"I don't, but you do," Buffy replied. "You do lots of things that I like to do, so I thought I'd return the favor."

The ex-vampire had a feeling that she was really trying to make up for the last fight they'd had. Then again, making up almost made the fight worth it. "Where do you want to go?"

"Wherever you usually go, I guess," she said, shrugging.

Where he usually went often included a quick detour by the grave he called his mother's, but Spike wasn't sure that was something he wanted Buffy to know about. Yet she'd made the effort to drag herself out of bed this morning, just so she could make sure he was okay, so she could do something with him that he liked to do.

Maybe it was time.

~~~~~

Buffy didn't like to run much, as a rule. After all, she got so much exercise between training and chasing after monsters that jogging seemed redundant. Running with one's boyfriend was a completely different story, however, especially when that boyfriend was Spike.

Talk about being able to enjoy the scenery.

More than that, there was her need to be with him, to make certain that he was okay. The dream had given her a scare, if only because the feeling she had after she woke up was the exact same premonition she'd had right before the Judge had shown up. Before Angel had transformed into Angelus.

Granted, Spike couldn't lose his soul, but a nasty could very easily get to him, and Buffy was determined not to let that happen. Hence, the running.

Buffy was paying more attention to Spike than to her surroundings, which was why when she did look around she pulled to a sudden stop. "Spike? Hold up a second."

He slowed and stopped as well, turning to look at her. "You okay, luv?"

"I'm fine. It's just—" Buffy knew this place, even though she was certain she'd never been here before. "Do you come here often?"

They were in a cemetery, one of the few she rarely visited. It was mostly full of older graves, their occupants long since turned to dust in the usual fashion. Some of the markers were so old that the lettering had been decimated by the elements, and it was impossible to tell who had been laid to rest, only that someone had.

"Uh, sometimes," Spike said, following the Slayer cautiously. She had an odd expression on her face that he couldn't quite fathom. She was also heading straight towards his own private spot.

Buffy knew where she'd seen this place before, knew that it had been in her dream. She recognized the clearing, the trees, everything. "How often?" she demanded, looking back at him over her shoulder.

Spike looked embarrassed. "Swear you won't laugh?"

He had that look on his face—the vulnerable one. It was the look that always signaled the revelation of some deep truth, her opportunity to either heal or hurt. "I swear."

Pointing to one of the markers, Buffy could just make out the words, "Beloved Mother." "Come here sometimes because my mum didn't have a grave, you know? I just—I talk to her."

"Why would I laugh, Spike?" Buffy asked, honestly bewildered. Sure, it was a little odd, but her own mother's recent brush with death made her a little more tolerant of that sort of thing.

He shrugged. "Thought you might think it was stupid or something."

"It's not stupid," Buffy replied, coming closer to lay a hand on his arm. She was positive that it was the same place he'd dusted in her dream, and the sense of déjà vu was sending chills up and down her spine. "This—I recognize this place from my dream."

Spike let out a little breath. "Well, innit that just neat?"

"We'll just have to be careful," Buffy said slowly. "I mean, it was probably just me worrying about this year's birthday disaster. I mean, I doubt it would be a Slayer dream. Normally I'd get some idea of the trouble to come, not just what would happen."

"Right. We'll all keep a sharp eye out, an' disaster will be averted. Or, at least we'll manage it, yeah?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied, but the sense of foreboding she'd woken up with was back full force.

~~~~~

The party was a subdued affair, much like Spike's celebration had been. Buffy had voiced the opinion that the more people who were present, the more going on, the more things that could go wrong.

Dawn was excited to be included this year. While she knew the memories were fake, she didn't think her older sister had let her in on the partying since Buffy was in grade school. This year, however, Spike roped her into helping him get the cake, and Joyce had asked her to decorate, and Willow and Tara had actually let her watch them do the protection spell. Of course, Dawn was well aware that it was all just because they wanted her to feel like she belonged and all that, but she'd take it. There was definitely something to be said for everybody worrying about hurting your feelings.

She had pretty much dealt with the fact that she was some thousand-year-old Key. That's not to say it wasn't freaky, especially thinking about a Hellgod coming after her, but Spike's words had given her a lot to think about, and she'd decided that he was right. Life was really strange sometimes, and it didn't make a lot of sense, and her life was definitely not normal. But the reality was that if she wasn't the Key, she wouldn't be alive. And if her sister wasn't the Slayer, Dawn would never known Spike, or Willow, or Xander, or Tara, or any of the others.

Fake memories or not, it was right now that counted.

Dawn let out a shriek as Spike came up behind her and tickled her sides as they were all settling down to watch Buffy open her presents. "Spike!"

"You were lookin' all too serious there for a minute, Bit," he replied, grinning.

Smoothing down her ruffled dignity, Dawn gave him the superior look that all teenage girls had perfected. "I was thinking."

"Pardon me for interruptin'," he replied, not at all phased. Spike sat down next to Buffy, watching as the others perched in different places around the room. He let out a sigh of contentment as she leaned into his side.

"Here, open ours," Willow said, handing her a good-sized box.

Buffy pulled out a new dress. "Ooh, this is beautiful. Thanks, you guys."

Tara smiled. "We figured you'd probably be getting a lot of crossbows and other—you know, killy stuff."

"So we thought less killy, more frilly," Willow added.

Seeing Buffy's reaction to the dress, and hearing Willow and Tara's explanation, caused Spike to tense. He probably should have thought of that—should have gotten her something romantic instead of a sword. Of course, he still had the ring in his pocket, but he wanted to wait for a more private moment to actually pop the question.

Dawn insisted on Buffy opening her present next—a picture of the two of them taken on the beach, just before school had started. The sisters shared a hug, and Buffy whispered something in Dawn's ear that made her smile and look a little uncomfortable.

Spike watched as the other presents were opened, until he was the only one left. "Uh, well, hope you don't mind that I went for the sharp end of the spectrum, luv," he said, handing her the long box from where he'd hidden it in the coat closet.

Buffy pulled off the ribbon and opened it, her eyes widening when she saw the weapon. "Spike—this is incredible."

The Slayer pulled the sword and scabbard out of the box, and moved so that she could better maneuver. Of all those present, only Giles recognized exactly what the weapon was. "Spike, that's—that's a K'tok ceremonial blade. How on earth did you come by it?"

"Man's got to have some secrets," Spike replied, with something of a smug grin.

"A what?" Xander asked.

"It's a K'tok ceremonial blade," Anya repeated matter-of-factly. "Only female K'toks carry weapons. In fact, all the women are really scary warriors. The only way that Spike would have a sword like that is if he killed one or did somebody a really big favor."

Spike shrugged, his lips still sealed. "It was a favor, but I was sworn to secrecy. 's a woman's sword, though. Seemed appropriate for the Slayer to have it."

Buffy was still engrossed in her examination of the weapon. It was slightly curved, light, and was perfectly balanced. She could easily imagine jumping into battle with something like this. "Thanks, Spike. It's perfect."

Again, he shrugged, although the others could detect the flush on his cheeks. "You missed what's in the bottom of the box, luv."

Buffy raised an eyebrow and put the sword back into its scabbard, moving the paper in the box to discover a sheaf of papers. At her puzzled expression, Spike hastened to explain. "'ve sent it in, but I don't know if anybody wants it yet. Thought you might want your own copy though. And—well, look at the dedication page."

With a wondering expression, she did so, murmuring, "Oh, Spike." The dedication read, To Buffy, who made me glad to be alive.

Buffy moved to kiss him, and when they showed no sign of ending the embrace, Dawn cleared her throat loudly. "Uh, emotional scarring going on here. Can we maybe have cake now?"

They broke apart, but Spike's eyes promised more to come.

~~~~~

Buffy set her new sword in a corner of her room. It was definitely going to get hung on the wall; she just had to figure out how she wanted to do it. Spike was lounging on her bed, watching her with serious eyes. "So you really like it?"

"I love it." Buffy smiled. "I'm a big fan of both the frilly and the killy, and I got both satisfied." She plopped down on the bed and gave him a lingering kiss. "Plus, the dedication? Major bonus points there, mister."

Spike's mouth twisted up into a half-smile. "That right?" He hesitated, and then said, "'ve actually got one more thing for you, luv."

"More presents?" Buffy asked slyly. "I hope it has something to do with you spending the night."

"Is that allowed?" His look was humorous, but Spike was quite serious. There was no way he wanted to offend Joyce.

She raised an eyebrow. "You could sneak out in the morning, before anyone else is up," Buffy suggested. "Could be fun."

"Could be." Spike was still procrastinating. He wanted to ask, and yet he feared rejection. If she didn't want to accept his proposal, would it change their relationship for good?

"Okay..." Buffy gave him a look and then bounced on the bed a little. "You said you had another present, and right now I'm going to make a wild guess and say it isn't you."

"Not exactly," Spike hedged. "In a way, I s'pose the gift is me." Sighing, he pulled the box out of his pocket. "Thing is, I know you might not want this now, Buffy. You're still young, an' you might want to wait. You might not want to be tied down, or maybe you're not certain about me."

He took a deep breath. "Thing is, I'm dead sure you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, an' I'll be here till you tell me otherwise. I already gave you a ring as a promise. This one's a question." Spike opened the box so Buffy could see the ring, a large diamond in a simple setting. "Doesn't have to be now, or even soon. We don't have to set a date, even. Don't want you to feel any pressure—"

"Spike?" Buffy interrupted, continuing when he finally looked her in the eye. "Are you ever going to let me answer?" He stared at her, not saying anything, having finally run out of words. He hadn't even really asked the question. "The answer, by the way, is yes." And, to seal the deal, Buffy held out her hand.

Spike couldn't conceal the slight shaking of his own hand as he put the ring on her finger. "I—" He stopped to clear his throat. "I was thinkin' maybe after you get done with school."

"Or sooner," Buffy said. "But that probably isn't a bad idea either. Tell me. How nervous were you on a scale from one to ten?"

"'bout an eleven," Spike said with a sheepish grin. "'s just—I'm a good bit older than you, luv, an' I don't mean just because I was a vampire for so long. I don't want you to feel like you're trapped, or that you don't have any options."

"I've realized that life is not a multiple choice test, Spike," Buffy said quietly. "If you keep looking for better options, there's a really good chance that you'll miss out on what was in front of your face the entire time. I've dated other guys, so it's not like you're the only one I've ever had feelings for." At the look on his face, Buffy hastened to reassure him. "But you're the only one I've felt this way about. You're the man I love. The more I discover about you, the more I find myself wanting to know."

Spike stared at her, the expression on his face nothing short of worshipful. "I love you."

Buffy didn't try to reply with words, although she thought she might have finally gotten it right. Spike was the word-guy in the relationship—he was the writer, for Pete's sake. She was action-girl.

Their loving was langorous, a journey of rediscovery and of promise. In some ways, it was like the first time all over again, as Buffy tried to show with her hands and mouth the depth of her feelings. She felt as though she was drowning, drowning in him, and it was okay because Buffy knew that he wouldn't let her go.

Spike, for his part, knew that this was just a beginning. He could look forward into the future and see—something. There were no details. Details were overrated, anyway. What was clear was that they were together; she loved him in spite of his faults, in spite of his past. Loved him enough to say yes to everything he was offering.

Loved him enough to say yes to everything he was.

If Spike had died in that moment, he would have died a happy man.

~~~~~

The story in the paper the next morning sent off all kinds of warning bells in Buffy's brain. Large massacres on trains heading into Sunnydale usually meant a little more than just your random killings. The whole thing just screamed "vampire," and Buffy felt the chill of fear renew itself.

"You don't think it's somethin' serious, do you?" Spike asked quietly. He and Buffy were cleaning up the dinner dishes while Joyce and Giles talked in the living room. Dawn was upstairs playing a CD from one of those boy-bands she liked so much. He made a face. "Strike that question. That many dead bodies is always serious."

Buffy handed a dish over to him to dry and shook her head. "I don't know. At this point, I'm just grateful it's something simple, like vampires. The last thing we need right now is another attempt from Glory to get her Key."

"How could she know the Key is Dawn?" Spike asked reasonably. "No one knows but us, an' we're not tellin'. Unless Glory manages to find out from one of those crazy people she's so good at makin'."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't know, Spike, but it's still possible. What if she cooks up another locator spell, or something? It could lead her right to Dawn."

"Don't know, luv. We just have to protect her, best we can. What did you find on the train today?" he asked.

"A big fat nothing," Buffy complained. "The police in Sunnydale aren't good for much, but they're really good at finding all the clues that I might have been able to use."

Spike shook his head. "Wish I'd been able to go with you. Maybe I could have—"

"I doubt it. There really wasn't much to see. Plus, you had Dawn with you. That's just as important." Buffy watched the water drain down the sink. "I really wish we could take some time," she said wistfully. "You know, to celebrate?"

The Slayer was talking about her new ring, which she'd been showing off every time she got the chance. The whole gang had gone to the Bronze the previous night, leaving Dawn with Joyce and Giles, as a sort of impromptu party. Tonight's dinner had been a quiet celebration with just the immediate family.

It had been nice. Except for the after-dinner conversation that centered around Hellgods and vampires, they might have been any other couple celebrating a recent engagement.

Buffy wanted a little more than that, however. She wanted Spike all to herself for a few days on end, free of responsibility. She wanted to not worry about school, with the test in literature that was coming up, or about monsters and demons. Buffy wanted normalcy like she'd never wanted it before.

If only for just a few nights.

"Soon's this is all over," Spike promised. "We'll get rid of Glory an' maybe go off to L.A. for a few days. Stay in a nice hotel, whatever you want."

"You," Buffy replied. "I just want you all to myself."

Their kiss was long and hard, with an edge of desperation to it. They were all feeling the strain these days. It was like living in the middle of a war zone, and no one had a real chance to relax and let their guard down. "Wish you could come over tonight, pet."

"Me too, but—"

"Not safe," Spike agreed. "I should go."

"Be careful," Buffy said. "With whatever it is on the loose..."

"I'll be fine, an' I'll see you tomorrow. Want to pick me up at seven for patrol?"

Buffy nodded. "Sounds like a plan." As she headed upstairs to study, she studiously avoided looking in on Joyce and Giles on the couch. They might be sitting a couple of inches apart now, but their dishevelled clothing suggested something a little different than mere conversation.

She rolled her eyes and called out a goodnight. Having her mom and her Watcher together was definitely a little strange, but it was a normal strange. It was the kind of weirdness that might strike any young adult whose mother was beginning to date after a divorce. So it was a normal weird.

And that was strangely comforting.

~~~~~

Spike flipped through the mail absently. It was all bills for the most part, but then he reached an envelope that was obviously from one of the publishers he'd sent his manuscript off to. He put the rest of the mail aside and then sat down heavily. There was a small part of him that wanted to wait until Buffy arrived so that she could open it for him. That way, he wouldn't actually have to read the words of rejection, would instead be able to see it on her face.

Glancing at the clock, he realized he still had about fifteen minutes until Buffy was supposed to arrive. He wasn't sure he could wait that long. Besides, if he opened it now, Spike could tell her the news, one way or the other, when she got there. Maybe that would be better.

Spike was just going into the kitchen for a knife to slit the envelope when the knock on the door came. Thinking that Buffy was early, he called out, "Come on in, pet. Door's open." Still bent on opening the letter, he was fumbling the paper out when something made him turn.

"Buffy? What—" It wasn't Buffy. Drusilla stood there, looking as dark and dangerous and beautiful as ever.

"Hello, Spike."

"Drusilla." Her appearance wasn't the surprise that it should have been, perhaps because Spike knew his dark princess. She might have sent him off, but his humanity would be an offense to her artistry. Dru had, after all, spent over a century making him into her vision of a medieval knight. "What are you doin' here?"

"Come to see what they have made of you, dearest," she replied. "You're all warm—and weak."

Spike smiled ruefully, well knowing that he was hardly a match for her. "'m happy, luv. Don't suppose you'd let me be."

She shook her head. "How can you be happy when they can't see your vision? Your strength?"

They were very similar to the words Drusilla had spoken to him on the night of his turning, of his rebirth. At the time, Spike supposed, they had been true, but things had changed. "It's a different kind of vision, Dru," he replied gently. "Think you could leave? Get out of town? The Slayer will kill you if she finds you."

Spike didn't want her dead. Even though he felt the danger, he was fairly certain that he couldn't kill her. She was too strong for him, and he didn't have a weapon ready to hand. More than that, there was a small piece of him that still loved her, just as there was a small piece of him that remembered the hunt with fondness.

It wasn't in him to kill a woman he had once loved, even if a lifetime had passed.

"Can't leave you stranded, Spike. My William. You've been blinded. I can make you strong again. Make you see the truth." Drusilla glided closer. "You belong in the dark."

"Not anymore, luv," Spike replied, knowing even as he said it that it was futile. Her eyes were hypnotic, as was her voice. He'd always been impressed by Dru's ability to take over someone's mind, but he'd never expected to have it used on himself. Attempting to tear his eyes away from hers was like trying to swim against a current, and though he gave it his best, the fight was over before it had begun.

The last thing he head was Drusilla's whispered promise. "We'll be together again soon, just like before. The Slayer will never love my Spike."

~~~~

Buffy took the stairs to Spike's apartment at a jog. She was running a little late—as usual—and didn't want Spike to have to wait for too long. When she reached his door, Buffy realized that it was open just a crack, and the small nagging fear she'd had all day blossomed into full-out panic.

"Spike!" She catapulted through the door and stood, frozen, at what she saw. Drusilla stood there, Spike's limp body in her arms. There was a bleeding cut on her breast, but the Slayer couldn't see if there was any blood on Spike's lips or not.

It was a good thing she'd been training so strenuously. Instinct took over, and Buffy's stake pierced the vampire's heart before either woman really knew what was going on or how to react. In the next moment, Spike was in her arms. "God, no," she pleaded softly as she searched for a pulse. "Please, God, no. I need him. I need him..."
 

Chapter 17: Forever
 

"My love, if I die and you don't—,/My love, if you die and I don't—,/let's not give grief an even greater field./No expanse is greater than where we live./Dust in the wheat, sand in the deserts,/time, wandering water, the vague wind/swept us on like sailing seeds./We might not have found one another in time./This meadow where we find ourselves,/O little infinity! we give it back./But Love, this love has not ended:/just as it never had a birth, it has/no death: it is like a long river,/only changing lands, and changing lips." ~Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XCII
 

Spike knew as soon as he woke up. As the rush of blood and guilt and the sound of his own heartbeat had let him know he was human, now the absence of all three indicated another fundamental change. It was a rush, as it had been the first time he'd been turned, a feeling of power, of invincibility.

There was nothing and no one that could touch him now. Weakness was a thing of the past. Strength sang in his bones. He nearly laughed with the drunken feel of it.

And then he felt the weight of the manacles around his wrists, and he remembered. Spike suddenly remembered that this time he'd had more to lose than to gain from becoming a vampire again, and oddly enough, he still cared.

A hunger in his belly reminded him of another need, and Spike jerked on the chains with a growl. He was starving. The idea of blood, straight from the jugular, had him salivating in anticipation, even though he knew Buffy would never allow it.

Even though there was no way he could kill and hope to remain in her good graces.

Spike tugged on the chains again, wondering if he was going to be left to himself for much longer. From his surroundings and the smells he judged himself to be in the Slayer's basement. "Oi there! Slayer! You gonna let me starve to death?"

Spike knew she was somewhere in the house. He could feel her.

He heard her footsteps on the stairs moments later, and Buffy came into view, carrying a cooler. "Spike."

Her voice was cold, colder than it had been since—since they had come to an understanding. Possibly since he'd been a vampire the first time. Even though Spike wasn't precisely surprised at her reaction to his return to vampirism, hearing Buffy speak in that tone drove home how much had changed in such a short time.

"Goin' to stake me now, Slayer?" he challenged.

Buffy gave him a tight little smile, and in that expression Spike could see the ravages of grief. "No. Willow and Tara are working on a spell to return your soul. Should be ready in no time."

She was lying. Spike could smell it on her, sense it in the slight increase of her heartbeat. "Haven't quite figured out how to bypass the loophole, huh?" He leaned back against the wall, waiting to see if she would relax around him.

"Not yet," she replied, and he could sense the uncoiling of tension. Spike wasn't sure what Buffy had expected of him, but apparently he wasn't acting quite like she thought he might. "It's just a matter of time, though."

"And if they can't?" he asked. "Will you stake me then?"

Buffy's face was stoic, but her eyes told a different story."If I have to."

"I still love you, you know," Spike said, almost conversationally. "Told you nothin' was gonna change that, luv."

"You're not the man I loved," the Slayer spat back. "You're—you're—"

"A vampire?" Spike asked with a sardonic smile. "An' you think he wasn't? Deep down inside? He still had darkness, pet. So do you." With inhuman grace, Spike surged to his feet. "I could make it so good for you. Take you on a ride like you wouldn't believe. 's like yin and yang now. The man you loved is still here, just stronger, faster—"

"More evil," Buffy replied. Her foot slid the cooler towards him so she didn't have to get too close. "There's blood in there if you're hungry."

"Cold pig's blood isn't gonna satisfy forever," Spike nearly snarled. "That stuff is disgusting."

"It's all you're going to get," Buffy replied. "Deal with it."

As she turned, Spike could see his cross dangling from her neck, and he realized he wouldn't be wearing it again. "You promised me forever, Buffy!" he accused. She didn't turn. "Bloody hell! I love you! I won't hurt you!"

~~~~~

"Are you alright?" Giles asked as Buffy emerged from the basement.

"Yeah." She managed a weak smile. "It wasn't too bad. He was in full vamp-mode, though. I don't think he even noticed."

Giles pulled her into his arms for a hug. "Technically, Spike would be a fledgling, Buffy. It takes time to learn control, from what I understand."

"Can we save him?" Buffy asked. "Am I just being stubborn and stupid?"

"Stubborn?" Giles asked. "Always. But stupid? No, I don't believe so. If there's even a chance—" He broke off, and Buffy knew her Watcher was grieving in his own way. They had all loved Spike—human-Spike, that is.

It was worse than when Angel had become Angelus. That had been bad, but it was nothing compared to watching Drusilla draining Spike, searching frantically for a pulse that couldn't be found, calling Giles to tell him that Spike was dead.

There had been a heated discussion over whether or not to simply make certain that Spike didn't rise, or to wait and see and then make a decision. No one had argued very hard for giving up. Tara had been the only one to point out—quietly—that Spike might not want to be a vampire.

At the time, Buffy hadn't really cared what Spike would want. He had somehow let Drusilla into his apartment, had gotten himself turned again. She was royally pissed off at him. Spike was the man who wasn't supposed to leave, and now he had gone, leaving behind a demon who wore his face.

So, if Buffy could find a way to keep him with her, she would.

Dawn had been nearly hysterical when they told her, of course, although Joyce had been more accepting than Buffy would ever have believed. When Buffy had commented on it, her mom had replied that she had liked Spike before he became human, so she didn't see how it could be too bad.

Buffy had replied that having a demon hijack your fiancé's body was about the worst thing ever.

So now Spike-the-Vampire was awake and insisting that he still loved her when everyone knew that vampires couldn't love. And even if they could, he had let Drusilla into his apartment. Surely that meant something. Did he want to leave her so badly?

"Is everyone else here?" Buffy asked, finally pulling away. "We really should figure out what we're going to do with him, and quick. If I know Spike, he's probably working on his great escape as we speak."

Giles nodded, pulling off his glasses and polishing the lenses briskly. "Yes, everyone's here. I'm certain we'll come up with a solution if we put our heads together."

Thirty minutes later, Buffy wasn't so certain. She stood by the fireplace, her arms crossed, in full Slayer-general mode. Joyce and Giles were seated on the couch, their hands surreptitiously entwined. Willow was in the armchair, with Tara at her feet, with Xander and Anya occupying a similar position on the other end of the couch. Dawn had been told to stay in her room, much to her dismay.

Of course, that just meant she was sitting on the stairs where no one could see her.

"Are you sure?" Buffy asked, for the third time. "You're sure you can't change the spell?"

Willow shook her head. "Maybe if I had more time, Buffy, but the spell—it's all about the dark magicks, and because it's a curse... Maybe if there was another way to give a vampire back his soul, but you're doing something against its nature, and against its wishes. That takes a lot of power."

"You have power," Buffy replied. "You—"

"We both have power," Tara said gently. "But we don't have the kind of skill it takes to take someone's soul and put it back in, not without that particular spell." She hesitated. "Besides, it's not a good spell, Buffy. I think maybe you should talk to Spike. If he was willing, we could maybe work something out."

"He's not going to be willing," Buffy said definitively. "Vampires don't volunteer to get their souls back."

Willow gave her a reassuring smile. "We can still do the spell, Buffy. We just can't get rid of the loophole."

"Do we have everything we need for it?" Giles asked.

"We don't have an Orb of Thessula," Anya said matter-of-factly. "And those puppies are hard to find right now."

Giles frowned. "I didn't think they were that scarce an item."

"Yeah, well, word got out that they could be used for re-ensoulment, and every vampire who thought someone might have a grudge started buying up all the ones they could find." Anya shrugged. "They always have one or two on e-Bay. I'll see what I can do."

"How long?" Buffy asked.

Anya shook her head. "A few days maybe. It'll probably take that long to find one, and then you have to wait for the bidding to be over. After that, we can get it over-nighted if you're willing to pay for it."

"We're willing to pay," the Slayer said grimly. "I want Spike back."

"What if we can't get him back, Buffy?"

The quiet question came from Xander, who was looking very uncomfortable with all eyes on him. "What are you talking about?" Buffy asked.

"What if Anya can't get the Orb?" he said. "Or what if the spell doesn't work on him? Or what if he gets loose before then and starts munching his way through Sunnydale? I'm not—I'm not suggesting that we stake him now, but..."

"But you think we might need to." Buffy's tone was flat.

Xander sighed. "I'm saying we might have to. Have you thought about what he knows, Buf? Spike knows about Dawn. If he gets loose, or if the spell doesn't work, he could go to Glory."

There was a long silence. Joyce was the one who broke it. "Spike wouldn't do that."

"Spike's an evil vampire," Xander objected. "Sorry, Joyce, but I don't think there's much he wouldn't do at this point."

Joyce shook her head. "Spike might be a vampire, but he wouldn't hurt Dawn or me. He didn't when he was in town that last time, when Drusilla left him."

There was a strained silence as they all looked around uncomfortably at the vampire's name. "That wasn't the last time he was in town, Mom," Buffy corrected her. "He was here right before he got captured by the Initiative, and he was pretty intent on killing me. There's no way I could trust him."

"I think Xander might have a point, though, Buffy," Giles said gently. "If we are unable to return Spike's soul to him, it might be wise to have a back-up plan."

"Couldn't we just make a deal with him?" Willow asked wistfully. "I mean, he did help you stop Angelus. Maybe you could just ask him to leave town."

Buffy hesitated and then shook her head regretfully. "I can't, Will. If Glory wasn't an issue, then it wouldn't be such a big deal, but Xander's right about that much at least. I can't take the risk that he would tell her about Dawn."

"He wouldn't," Tara said. "I still think we should talk to him, Buffy. Maybe you could get his cooperation. Spike's talked about his mom. After he—"

"Spike turned his mom because he loved her." Buffy's voice was flat. "I'm not going to risk that happening with any of us."

"I want to see him." Dawn's voice cut across the room. She stood in the doorway, her pose unconsciously mirroring the Slayer's—arms crossed on her chest, glaring.

Buffy walked over to her sister and took her by the arm. "You're supposed to be in bed, Dawn."

"I don't want to go to bed," Dawn replied sharply. "I want to see Spike. You can't keep me from seeing him, Buffy."

"Yes, I can," was Buffy's response. "Upstairs, now."

"No! I want—"

"Go, Dawn." Joyce had come over to join them, and she ran a loving hand down her youngest daughter's hair. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but it's better if you don't see him right now, not until we get things settled."

Dawn's lip trembled. "Please, Buffy. Please. I have to! You don't understand! I—"

"Come on, Dawnie." Tara was there, putting an arm around the younger girls' shoulders. "I'll take her upstairs," she said to Joyce and Buffy. "I don't think I can be of much help down here anyway."

Tara led the girl up to her room and then sat with her on the bed. "Why can't I see him?" Dawn asked rebelliously.

"Buffy doesn't think it's a good idea," Tara said carefully. Personally, she thought that Dawn should probably be allowed to see Spike, if only to get a little more closure, but it wasn't her decision to make. None of these decisions were hers.

Dawn's chin set stubbornly. "Buffy doesn't understand."

"No, she probably doesn't," Tara agreed. "It's hard for her too, though."

The anger drained out of her, and Dawn tried to stifle the resultant sob. "Why, Tara? Why'd Spike have to get hurt like that? It's not fair. I hate this."

"I know, sweetie," Tara murmured in reply, pulling Dawn's head down on her shoulder. Her own tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. She had somehow forgotten how bad new grief felt. "I hate this too."

Oh, how she hated it.

~~~~~

Spike could hear the murmured voices above him, and he managed to catch snatches of conversation as he drained the bags of blood Buffy had left. Pigs' blood was soddin' awful, and it didn't satisfy, but it was something anyway.

It was just until he could get his hands on something better.

He nipped that thought in the bud, wondering what had changed between now and being a vampire for the first time. It was a relief to be free of the guilt, of course. He couldn't be disappointed to lose that load.

The loss of his guilt was the only positive thing to have come out of getting turned again, as far as Spike could tell. The first time he'd been thrilled at the power, the strength. Spike had adored Dru, and he couldn't wait to show his mother. The idea of being able to offer her what was essentially eternal life had been a major bonus.

But turning his mother had backfired, and Spike knew now that if he were to turn Buffy or Dawn or Joyce or any of the others, they would cease to be the people that he loved. So that was out of the question.

Spike had some doubt as to his ability to control himself. Even if Buffy decided to take a chance on him—which seemed highly unlikely—what was to say he wouldn't eventually get tired of a diet of pigs' blood?

While he might have a number of sterling qualities, Spike couldn't kid himself that self-control was one of them.

If the Slayer did take a chance on him, who was to say he wouldn't let her down, make her stake him one of these days?

No, the first time he'd died, Spike hadn't had much to lose. If he were honest, anything would have been an improvement, especially when compared to the pathetic git William had been. This time, however...

Spike sucked on another blood bag thoughtfully as he listened to them debate giving him his soul. Seemed like they couldn't remove the happiness clause.

Snorting, Spike tossed the now-empty bag to one side. He wasn't Angelus. Spike knew himself well enough to understand that it wouldn't take a quick roll in the hay with Buffy to make him lose his soul. There had been moments with Joyce, with Dawn, even with Tara where Spike would have described himself as being perfectly happy.

Even so, with that little curse in place, Buffy would distance herself from him, and they certainly wouldn't be shagging anytime soon. Spike knew he would most likely lose the others' acceptance as well, with the possible exception of Tara.

He caught a bit of Dawn's interruption, knew she wanted to see him. They wouldn't let her come down, of course. Couldn't risk it. Like he'd hurt one hair on his Niblet's head. Spike had loved her long before he'd become human.

It was different now, though. Everything was different. And it hadn't changed for the better.

Spike listened as the voices upstairs faded, the number of heartbeats he could sense decreasing. They were all going home, going to research ways to leash the demon. He barked his laughter. It was ridiculous. Hadn't they learned anything at all from Angel? Demons couldn't be leashed. They could only be harnessed.

All the sounds in the house quieted. If he wasn't a vampire, Spike wouldn't have been able to hear the heartbeats. Two were slow.

One was speeding up as the footsteps approached the basement stairs.

For a half second, Spike thought it might be Buffy, come to visit. Perhaps she wanted to get a feel for the vampire that had replaced her human boyfriend. The scent that reached his nose as the visitor descended wasn't the Slayer's however.

Spike smiled. He should have known.

Dawn came into sight, staring at him. "Spike?"

"Still me, L'il Bit."

"Your face..."

Belatedly, Spike realized his face was still the demon's. It took a moment to remember how to change back, but his features smoothed out, the ridges and fangs disappearing. "Better?"

Dawn was still staring at him. "I—I didn't really—"

"It really happened, luv." His tone was gentle, soft as a summer's breeze, much like the one he'd used on Drusilla when she took a fit. "'m sorry."

Dawn took a step closer. "Buffy's really pissed off at you."

Spike laughed, though there was little humor in the sound. "What else is new? Your sis's always pissed off at me for something or other. What about you?"

"Did you really let that vampire turn you?" Dawn asked, betrayal coloring her voice. "Did you want—"

Spike shook his head. "Never wanted this, luv. Not sure I exactly want it now. She—Thought she was your sister when I invited her in, an' then..." He trailed off, remembering. "Couldn't stop her."

The girl took another couple steps forward, and now she was almost within reach. The demon inside was desperate for firm ripe flesh only inches away, for sweet blood that ran hot. Spike could see the pulse throbbing in her throat, and he scented both her fear and her fascination.

He wanted to drain her dry, and the desire frightened him as nothing else did. As nothing else could.

"Better not come any closer, Bit," Spike said regretfully. "Don't want to hurt you."

"You wouldn't hurt me," Dawn declared boldly, but she stopped just out of arms' reach.

Spike smiled at her brass. He'd always loved that about her. "No, but I haven't had a real meal yet, an' I don't want to risk it."

She sat down on the floor cross-legged in front of him. "So, do you feel all evil now?"

Spike considered the question. "A bit. The hunger's there." That was an understatement. "You know what Buffy decided to do?"

"They're going to do the soul-restoration spell as soon as Anya can get all the ingredients," Dawn said.

"An' the loophole?"

She shrugged. "They're still going to do it, even if Tara and Willow can't figure it out before then. Buffy said she can't afford to wait."

Spike didn't like that idea much, mostly because of the curse. He would be on the outside but good then, able to look but not to touch. It was the worst form of torture he could imagine. "What if I agreed to leave town?" he suggested, trying to think of another solution. Spike had heard of places a bloke could go to get wishes fulfilled. Maybe there would be another way, either to get the soul back or get himself back to the way things were. Possibly even go back in time, fix things so he never let Drusilla in.

Surely there was a better solution, other than the gypsy-spell.

Dawn shook her head. "Buffy said maybe, if it wasn't for Glory. Everybody's scared that you're going to give us away."

"I'd never!" Spike said indignantly. "If I wanted to kill Buffy that badly, I'd come after her myself."

There was a long silence. "It's not going to get better, is it?" Dawn asked. "I mean, nothing we do is going to make this okay."

Spike could think of a couple things. If he could escape and then lie low for a while, work his way back into the Slayer's good graces, convince her that she could trust him. Either that, or he could leave town, find another way to get his soul.

The latter choice had one major flaw: he'd be leaving both Dawn and Buffy unprotected against Glory. As a vampire, he was in an even better position to protect the Slayer and the Key, but he wouldn't be allowed.

Solution number one also had a major—and probably insurmountable—flaw: Angelus. There was no way that Buffy would ever believe that an unsouled vampire could be good, could help her—could love her. Not after the Great Poof had done such a magnificent job convincing her otherwise.

Instead, there Spike would be, souled or not, just another burden. He would be one more thing that the Slayer had to worry about. In the end, there would be tears and drama and hurt on both sides, and it would end with Buffy asking him to leave.

Or staking him. While Spike was still absolutely certain of his love for her, he was uncertain of his self-control. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't snap the neck of the first wanker who pissed him off. That he wouldn't get so hungry he didn't catch a quick snack on the way home.

And there was one thing that Spike would not do in any incarnation—he didn't hurt the girl.

"Dawn-luv?"

"Yeah?" Dawn had watched him think, and she wondered what kind of decision he'd come to, but he looked peaceful, if determined.

"You think you could get the keys to these things?" Spike asked, rattling the manacles.

Dawn gave him a doubtful look. "Buffy's going to kill me."

Spike smiled, and it was the saddest expression Dawn had ever seen on his face. "She won't know. She'll think I escaped. 's why she wanted to do the soul-spell so quick, yeah?"

Dawn still hesitated. "'m not goin' to hurt anyone," he promised fervently. "But this is somethin' I ought to do myself, Bit. The curse is no good. I'll just end up losin' the bloody soul the first time I have a good moment. Your sister'll probably end up askin' me to leave. 's my right to do this my way."

It was, of that Dawn was certain. Spike had a right to determine his own future, to a certain extent. Of course, if he started munching on people, she would never forgive herself for unlocking him. "You swear?"

"Promise," Spike said. "An' I always keep my promises."

Dawn believed him, oddly enough. She thought there was an excellent chance that Spike would do exactly that. He would take care of things. Dawn decided that she didn't want to ask how he'd manage it. "Be right back."

Dawn had seen where Buffy had stashed the keys, unbeknownst to her sister. They were actually in a kitchen drawer, rather than underneath her pillow, which is where she would have kept them.

The littler Summers guessed that Buffy didn't think anyone would try and let him go, and if Spike made it to the kitchen, it was pretty much all over anyway.

She returned to the basement, keys in hand. "Okay. I got them."

"Do me a favor, Bit," Spike instructed. "When you go back upstairs, leave a bit of paper an' pen for me, yeah? Want to let your sis know what's goin' on. Then scamper on back to bed an' stay there. I want you safely tucked away."

Dawn stared at him wide-eyed, realizing that Spike was asking her to take those precautions for his sake, as well as her own. "Spike—"

"Ask me no questions an' I'll tell you no lies, Dawn," he said softly. "Just know it's better this way. Better that the Slayer can focus on takin' care of you an' Joyce an' the others. 'm not worth worryin' over."

Dawn blinked back sudden tears, somehow knowing that this would be the last time she'd see him. Biting back a sob, she hurled herself into Spike's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck in a death-grip. Spike awkwardly returned her embrace, breathing her scent in deeply, already feeling the ache of missing her. "I love you," she whispered fiercely, letting go and dashing upstairs.

Spike looked down to the floor next to him, where she'd dropped the keys. He waited until he could hear the faint echo of footsteps heading up the second flight of stairs before unlocking himself.

On the kitchen counter, he found the paper and pen he'd asked Dawn to leave out for him, and Spike began to compose a love letter.

He wanted to make it good. It would be the last one he'd ever write.

~~~~~

Buffy found sleep to be elusive. There was a vampire in her basement who wore the face of her lover, and all she could hear were his words, "You promised me forever, Buffy...I love you."

What she hadn't told anyone was that a piece of her believed him. The Slayer had seen Spike's eyes years ago when she'd threatened Drusilla's life—he'd been terrified to lose her. Buffy couldn't quite buy that Spike didn't love, even as a vampire.

The question had become whether love was enough.

She was still attracted to him; Buffy still wanted him, even as a vampire. In fact, the danger made her tingle in a new way that was absolutely delicious. In the darkest recesses of her mind, Buffy could admit that the thought of going downstairs and having her way with him, while Spike was still chained up, was tantalizing.

Spike-the-vampire had promised her a ride like no other—and that she could believe.

If it wasn't for Glory, Buffy might have taken the chance. She might have told him to leave town and then have been surprised when he didn't. They could have fought and made love and in time he would either have convinced her that he could change—or she would have to stake him.

With Dawn as the Key, and Spike privy to the knowledge, the risk was an impossible one. Besides, there was her mother and Giles and the others to think about. Knowing that Spike had turned his mother didn't make her feel any better. Who was to say that he'd learned his lesson?

Buffy sighed and tossed the blankets off of her. Her hand brushed the cross she'd placed around her own neck, and she made a fist around it briefly. She had promised him forever, and now it seemed as though their time was up. It wasn't fair.

Padding downstairs, Buffy went to the fridge to find something to eat, only to have a folded piece of paper on the counter catch her eye. With a sense of foreboding, Buffy recognized the elegant handwriting inscribing her name. She opened the paper and read:

Buffy,

Whatever you might think, I never wanted this. I wanted to be with you, with your mom and sister, to get married. The first time I was turned, I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Now, I've lost everything. I think Dru thought she was helping, but in reality she killed me as surely as if she'd just drained me dry.

It's not fair for you to have to make this decision, love. And it's not your right, it's mine. I've had my choices stolen enough for now. This time, I'm going to make the decision as to my future. If you gave me my soul back, the outcome would be the same, sooner or later. You'd have to stake me, or you'd end up telling me to leave, and that would surely dust me. Better to end this now.

Hope I'll see you on the other side, love. Maybe God will look favorably on a poor monster.

Forever yours,

Spike

Buffy dropped the note on the counter, putting a hand to her mouth. Thinking furiously, she tried to figure out where Spike would go.

In the end, there was really only one place.

~~~~~

Buffy came to a skidding halt just inside the clearing. The sun was only just beginning to lighten the sky, but it was enough to see him. Spike was standing by the gravesite he'd pointed out to her, hands in his pockets and facing east.

"H'lo, Buffy."

Of course he'd known she was there. "Spike—"

"Have you come to stop me?"

He still hadn't turned to face her, and Buffy moved closer. "Can I?"

"No."

"Spike, please, look at me."

He finally turned, his face grave in the gray light. "'s no good, luv. Could you ever love me as I am now?"

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it again as quickly. She could not bear to do without him, and she couldn't take the risk of trusting him. It was a no win scenario to which she could see no solution. "'s better this way," he said gently.

"We can do the soul spell, Spike," Buffy pleaded. "We'll figure out a way to anchor it. It'll just take some time."

"An' if you can't, luv?" The vampire shook his head. "'m tired of this, Buffy. Tired of other people runnin' my life for me, makin' my decisions. I want to be my own man again. I don't want to lose you, not by inches. Can't bear to watch you slippin' away from me, luv."

"We can try," Buffy said desperately. "We can try, and I'll help. Even if you never have a soul, or if you lose it. You can promise to leave before you hurt me, and—"

"An' my bein' undead isn't hurt enough?" Spike asked incredulously. "We'll kill each other slowly, instead of quick-like. 'd rather have a down an' dirty fight with you right now, Slayer, except I don't much want to win. 've finally found my death-wish, Buffy. This way, you can grieve me an' move on."

Buffy stared at him. "What if I don't want to move on, Spike?" she demanded. "What if you're the only man I'll ever love?"

"That's not the way life works, Slayer," he replied. "You'll fall in love again eventually. Maybe this way, since 'm tryin' to take a demon out of the world, I could wait for you." Spike smiled, and the first rays of the morning sun lit him up from behind, forming a halo effect. "If I have my way, luv, I'll wait for you forever."

This time there was no miracle, no last minute save from the Powers That Be. This time the sun rose right on time, warming the chill morning air.

Spike burst into flames, immolated in moments.

~~~~~

And Buffy woke with a gasp.
 

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