A Symphony of Echoes

A Symphony of Echoes
by Eurydice

DISCLAIMER: The characters are Joss', of course, and the chapter title comes from Shakespeare's "Sonnet CXLI."
PREVIOUSLY ON BUFFY: Giles and Spike are reaching a temporary understanding regarding Buffy, Baltozar found Havi and discovered she rented a room elsewhere, and Buffy shared a stressful moment with Spike about how she is being forced to be tutored for psych class...

*************

Chapter 27: She That Makes Me Sin

It was an unexpected turn of events, to say the least. Spike had only meant to give Buffy the words of support she needed to hear, to convince her that that bitch psych prof was wrong. He hadn't expected this glorious display, the tangible proof of her feeling for him put before the witness of her most trusted advisor.

After he'd spoken, she'd frozen within his touch. And she'd looked into his eyes with an understanding that he hadn't seen in over a century. She saw him, and it left Spike struggling not to burst into free verse on bended knee for the acknowledgment only Buffy had ever given him. And then she was kissing him, not the gentle caress of gratitude but a true, lustful, get him hard as a rock kiss. How could he not respond?

He hated the thought of letting her go. With her supple flesh pressed against him, her body warm and oh so inviting, Spike wanted nothing more than to take the invitation Buffy was extending and make love to her right then and there, regardless of the fact that they were on her Watcher's couch or that the Watcher in question was only in the next room. But he had to, knew she would be embarrassed by anything more, though it certainly appeared that they were well on the way to overcoming that particular peccadillo in just a short amount of time.

So when Rupert and Oz came back into the room, Spike pulled away from Buffy's mouth, curling his hands around her hips to nestle her against his side. "Soldier Boy wake up from his nap, yet?" he asked them, relishing the soft feel of her cheek when she laid it against his chest.

"Up and out again," Oz replied. "We had a little talk."

Spike's brows shot up. "Yeah?"

"Got a few things off my chest. It felt good."

"That why he's out for the count again?" Spike asked with a grin.

Though he shook his head, Oz sported a small smile as he did so. "It looks like it was a hangover. I don't think he's the kind of guy who can hold his magic." He turned to Giles. "Speaking of magic, I'm heading out to see how Willow's doing. We're done here, right?"

Giles nodded. "I think we've got as much out of Mr. Miller as we're going to today," he said. "Thank you for your help."

Oz was halfway to the door when he stopped and turned back to Spike and Buffy. "There was one thing, though," he said contemplatively. "I asked him about Riley's involvement in all this. He said it wasn't typical, that Riley was usually on Slayer watch."

Spike wasn't the only one to stiffen at the mention of the Slayer. Buffy sat up and faced Oz, while Giles peered at him in disbelief.

"Why did you mention Buffy?" Giles asked, his voice stern. "I distinctly told everyone to keep Buffy's involvement out of this. We didn't want her presence to be known."

"That's just it," Oz said. "I didn't. He brought her up all on his own."

"Right," Spike said, hopping to his feet and marching for the bathroom. "Time to have a few words with the bloke---."

He was stopped by Giles blocking the hall. "He's out cold," he reminded Spike. "You're wasting your time."

"Yeah, well, maybe it'll just be for my own satisfaction, then."

Buffy's hand brushed against his arm, effectively cutting off his intent. "We're not making this worse," she said to him when he looked down at her. She glanced over at Oz. "What else did he say about me?"

"Nothing. That was when he passed out again."

Giles' frown deepened. "That must be one of the subjects that trigger the magic," he mused. "Interesting."

"But Buffy's not a demon," Spike argued. "What would that lot want with her? Doesn't make sense."

"Which would be why I said it was an interesting dilemma," Giles said dryly.

"Great," Buffy muttered. "Someone else out to make my life miserable. Just what I need right now."

The way she pulled from him and headed for the door made Spike wonder if he was being lumped into that particular category, but the doubt was cast aside when she turned back to look at him.

"I need to get out of here," she said. It was directed to Spike, her eyes uncharacteristically dark. "Feel like finding something to beat up?"

He didn't have to be asked twice. With a jaunty step, Spike grabbed his coat and headed for her side. "We can pretend it's your psych teach," he teased.

Buffy grinned, though she quickly stifled it when Giles shot her a stern look. Grabbing Spike's hand, she pulled him out the door with a quick goodbye to her Watcher, barely giving Spike the time to get his coat over his head. Didn't matter. He'd go through a hell of a lot worse than a little sunburn to be at Buffy's side. He'd go through hell itself.

*************

They argued about Havi's decision the entire way to the apartment.

"It's not that I think you can't take care of yourself," Xander said. "It's that I think if this guy is such bad news, you should go in with as much back-up as possible."

"I refuse to let you get even more involved," she said stiffly. Though she had relaxed more and more throughout the day, as soon as her search was done and she realized she would have to go back to Baltozar's to fetch her belongings, Havi's agitation had returned. She didn't want to have to face Baltozar again. The confrontation would not be a pleasant one.

"Did I say it would be me?" He was grinning as he said it, and though she'd learned too quickly that he used his humor to hide his true feelings, Havi could also see the genuine concern in his eyes. "Let's go get Buffy. Nothing says back off better than having a Slayer on your side. Trust me."

"She has no reason to help me."

"Well, yeah, she does. You're one of the good guys, remember?"

The other thing that had thrown Havi over and over again was Xander's unexpected lumping of her with his friends. He had been wary of her at the Watcher's house, and still wary when he'd first walked up to her table in front of the coffee shop, but all too soon, that wariness had vanished, to be replaced by an affability that was difficult not to warm to. She liked him, which, in her experience, just didn't happen. It was yet another reason she didn't want him to witness a scene with Baltozar. Not only did she believe that Xander would get hurt in any fight that might ensue, a small, argumentative part of her wanted to keep each man compartmentalized from the other.

Baltozar was a part of her old life.

She wanted Xander to be a part of her new.

Clean break. That's what she wanted now. It's what Rose would've wanted for her.

Her dark eyes scanned the road as Xander turned the last corner toward the apartment. There was no sign of Baltozar's car; now was going to be the best time for her to do this. His absence meant no confrontation. It would make this infinitely easier.

"He's not here," Havi said as Xander coasted to a stop at the curb. She turned to face him and was mildly surprised at the certainty of his gaze. Behind the joviality was a young man who'd learned how to take strength from adversity; it was understandable that the Slayer would count him among her friends. "There's no reason for you to be concerned."

Xander's eyes jumped from her to the building behind her. "I still don't like it," he said.

"I'm not asking you to like it. I'm asking you to stay here."

He nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I'll give you ten minutes," he said. "Any longer and I'm coming in, got it?"

"I suppose it's a good thing I don't have many belongings, then," she said with a small smile.

"You're the first girl I've ever met who's said that. Knew you were one of a kind."

Turning away from the appraising grin he shot her, Havi hid her flush from him as she climbed out of the car, not even looking back as she walked quickly up the path. There had been a few comments that day that made her suspect his interest in her was more than just a polite concern. It was nothing she could put a finger on, though. She had never been frightfully good at reading the opposite sex.

The apartment was dark when she pushed open the front door, and she stepped inside with a relieved sigh. This would be quick, without conflict. She would grab her things and leave. Maybe write Baltozar a note.

She froze when the bedroom door opened and his dark shadow unexpectedly emerged. He didn't approach. He merely leaned against the jamb, blocking the way to her clothes, watching her with hooded eyes.

"I'd ask where you've been, but that never seems to turn out too good for me," Baltozar said.

His tone was almost too casual, and goosebumps erupted along Havi's arms. Restraint was not one of Baltozar's stronger suits; the fact that he was being so calm could not bode well for her.

"I didn't think you were home," she said carefully. "The car's not out front."

"Is that your way of telling me you wouldn't have come in if you had thought I was here?"

She frowned. His cagy question implied he knew more than he was telling, but what it could be, she had no idea. "What have you been doing all day?" It was a safer query for her, and she walked to the kitchen presumably to get a drink. She had to draw him away from the bedroom; all her weapons were in there.

"Looking for you," came the blunt reply. "You didn't come home last night."

Guilt stabbed through her at the use of his word "home." "You were drunk. You weren't rational."

"I thought you'd been hurt." She felt him approach her at the sink, but he still kept himself between her and the bedroom door. "But you're not, are you?"

Havi flinched when his fingers began stroking her right bicep, unexpectedly gentle. Thank god standing behind her meant he couldn't see her face. "The fact that you don't trust me hurt," she admitted.

"I don't trust anyone," Baltozar said softly. "You know that."

Her resolve was wavering. His proximity, this tender side that he so rarely displayed...it always undid her. It was so easy to forget how violent he'd been the night before, how violent he could be. Though he had yet to say...

"You know I'm sorry, right?" Baltozar murmured into her ear. His breath was warm against her neck. "It's just that I love you so damn much. You make me crazy sometimes."

The sigh escaped her. "That's not an excuse."

But part of her didn't really mean it.

Slowly, Baltozar reached to wrap his fingers around hers where they held the glass, guiding it down to the sink and forcing her to set it down. He turned her around so that she faced him, keeping her ass pressed to the edge of the counter. "It's all I've got," he said. "Isn't it enough?"

*************

Xander didn't wait well. He got bored. Fidgety. More than one teacher had commented on it throughout his scholastic career. More than one pencil had gotten stuck in an acoustic ceiling tile because of it. Nobody had been able to fix it, though. He just didn't like to sit still for that long without doing something.

However, sitting was his only current option. The ten minutes he'd given Havi were now stretching into fifteen, and while he'd only been kidding about going in after her if she took longer, Xander was starting to seriously wonder if something might be wrong. A light had come on in the apartment she'd entered, but the road remained silent, devoid of life and disturbance.

He wanted to trust her. It had been a surprisingly good day until they'd started heading back to her old place. Havi had even been smiling at most of his jokes by the time they walked out of the Sunnydale Arms. Xander was beginning to feel less like an imposer and more of a real friend at that point.

OK, a friend who wanted to have hot and crazy monkey sex with her, but for Xander, that really wasn't all that unusual for how his friendships with girls started. He was sure he'd get over it in time.

Hopefully.

For now, though, he wasn't sure what to think. He just knew he couldn't sit behind his steering wheel, listening to the local radio station run their eighties night. If anything was guaranteed to drive him around the bend, it was Cyndi Lauper on repeat.

He grabbed the crossbow out of his back seat without thinking. It didn't get used that often, and there was a Milky Way wrapper stuck on the end of one of the arrows, but it was the one weapon he knew he could count on for just about anything. Stakes were definitely more portable, but they only worked on vamps. The crossbow let him take a shot before whatever he faced decided he was a nummy treat.

And the bigger and harder to miss it was, the better.

He approached the apartment quietly, stepping from the path to peer through the open curtain. He spotted Havi right away, but it was the other person in the room that made him tighten his grip on the weapon.

She'd only talked about what had happened briefly, when Xander screwed up his nerve to ask about the bruises. He knew the guy's name---Baltozar---and he knew they'd come to Sunnydale together. But hearing those sparse details and seeing the man who was now pinning Havi to the kitchen counter were two entirely different matters.

For one thing, he was bigger than Xander had imagined. An easy six-three and two hundred pounds, he sported muscles that would've made Arnie jealous. Not the early, too big to be real Arnie, but the more compactly muscled Arnie from his comedy phase. It was Kindergarten Cop meets Vincent Vega.

Tattoos adorned his bare arms, and the fact that one was a sword dripping with blood came as no surprise to Xander. Neither did the fact that his hair was longer than Havi's. His dark hair was long and shaggy, slicked back away from his face to expose the thick sideburns that ran down to his jaw. It also revealed him talking to Havi, though Xander couldn't hear a word of it.

He could, however, see Havi's face. And he could see the way Baltozar's hands kept running over her body, possessive and knowing.

And Xander saw red.

*************

She knew what he was saying was wrong. She knew the way he was touching her was wrong. It had been less than twenty-four hours earlier that he'd attacked her in the very next room, but still, Havi was transfixed by what he professed, by the solicitude in his embrace.

"We didn't come all this way to lose each other," Baltozar was whispering. "Say the word, and we'll leave. Get out of here. We don't need the Hellmouth, Havi. I don't need anything. Just you."

"Don't," she said, but there was no conviction in her voice.

"You don't mean that."

"I think the lady does."

She hadn't even heard the door open, and her head jerked toward it, stiffening when she saw Xander there with a drawn crossbow. Something in Baltozar shifted, hardened even before he glanced back, and she saw a crack form in the gentle mask he'd been wearing.

"I was wondering if you were going to show up," he said.

It was his choice of words rather than his tone that snapped her out of the fugue he'd made in her head. "What're you talking about?" Havi demanded. She braced her hands against his chest and pushed, taking him by surprise.

Baltozar stumbled back, his eyes jumping between the two. When he took a step closer to Havi, Xander lifted the crossbow a little higher.

"I think even I'd have a problem missing from this close," Xander said. "Leave her alone." His gaze flickered to Havi. "You OK? He didn't hurt you again, did he?"

She shook her head, inching along the counter toward the bedroom. "I'm sorry," she said, but she wasn't entirely sure to which man she was apologizing.

"Is this the way it ends, then?" Baltozar snarled. "He's a fucking kid, Havi! Don't tell me you're leaving me for a fucking kid. You'll chew him up and be starving for more before breakfast, mark my word."

"Nobody's chewing anything," Xander said. "I'm her friend. I'm just trying to help here."

Baltozar's eyes flickered over him with disdain. "Do you really think I'm that stupid? Look her in the eye and tell her you haven't thought about fucking her into next Tuesday. Go on. Do it."

Though it wasn't entirely a surprise when Xander blushed, Havi still took a step away, from both of them at that point. But Baltozar wasn't finished.

"That's right." His voice was lower, more seductive, power glittering in his eyes. "You can't. Hasn't stopped you thinking about it, though, has it? Wondering how tight she is? What if I told you she gives the most amazing head? My girl could suck you dry if she wanted to. Can't think herself out of an open box, but she's got the hottest little mouth I've ever---."

"Stop it!" Her foot lashed out at the same time, slamming into the back of his knee and sending Baltozar crumpling to the floor. Shame coursed through her for having almost succumbed to his words again, and she whirled toward the bedroom, blinded by her tears.

"Don't even think about getting up," she heard Xander threaten. "No, wait a minute. On second thought, go ahead. I'm dying for a reason to shoot you."

Grabbing her duffle from the closet, Havi didn't even bother getting her clothes before returning to the outer room. Those were replaceable; other things were not.

"Let's go," she said, not stopping or looking up as she rushed past Xander to the open door.

"Havi..."

The pleading tone of Baltozar's voice made her falter, but she held her ground, refusing to even glance back. She couldn't. If she saw him, Havi wasn't sure she wouldn't end up falling prey to the doubt again.

She'd made her choice. She just had to stick with it this time.

*************

Xander didn't stick around. With Havi no longer in the apartment, his bravado vanished with her, and he scuttled back toward the door as quickly as he could without losing his aim on Baltozar. Then, it was out into the encroaching darkness and a dead run to his car. He'd never been so glad to see the old girl in his whole life.

They didn't say a word until he'd pulled away, and then Xander only risked a quick glance at the woman at his side. "You did the right thing," he said. "I know you were thinking about staying, but trust me. You did the right thing."

Her head was turned away from him, but he saw the reflection of her tears in the window. "This is my life," she said quietly. There was no trace of her crying in her voice. It was almost as if she was trying to convince herself of her own words. "I do the right thing. Even when I think it is wrong."

"It doesn't have to be so bad. And look at the fresh start you've got. New friends, new apartment---."

Her head whipped around. "I can't take the apartment, Xander," Havi said. "Baltozar knows. He has to. He had to have seen us together when he was looking for me today. That's how he recognized you."

He hadn't thought of that. He'd just been concentrating on not letting the bastard lay another hand on Havi.

"But you can't go back there," he said, jerking his head toward the dark street behind them.

She deflated before his eyes. "I know."

They drove in silence, aimed mindlessly through the Sunnydale streets. He didn't know where he was going, and she wasn't volunteering any more suggestions, the two of them floating together on a river of indecision. He knew how tough it was for her to just walk out; he'd been witness to that kind of destructive relationship his entire life. But he didn't know how else to convince her of the power of what she'd done.

They were stopped at the light near the movie theater when he got the idea. When it turned green, Xander braved the honks of the cars behind him to cut across two lanes, making the left to go around the block. Havi turned to him with a frown darkening her face.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I want to make a phone call." He pulled up to the curb, fishing around for the change in the ashtray he used for a coin catcher. "You don't want to spend the night in front of the Espresso Pump again, do you?"

Hesitantly, she shook her head.

"I didn't think so." Leaving the engine running, Xander slid out of the car and had taken two steps toward the phone when she called out to him.

"Yeah?" he said, ducking his head back into the window.

Her eyes were luminous as she looked at him, and he saw her throat work as she tried to find the right words. "Thank you," Havi finally said, and nodded, an odd gesture that would've looked wrong on anybody else in Sunnydale. On her, though, it was just...right.

Xander smiled. "You're welcome." In that moment, all the fear that had been burning the back of his throat at what exactly he'd done---standing up to bullies had never been his strong suit---dissipated in a wash of soothing heat. "I'll be right back."

*************

It was Wesley's threat to send her back to England that finally made Esme speak.

"I wanted to know how the original spell was cast," she admitted. "I thought I'd have a clue from her blood."

His lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. "That isn't of your concern," he said. "If it was, you would've been informed of that back in England."

She disagreed with him, but held her tongue, waiting to see how he would act now that she'd complied with his order to explain herself. She couldn't return to England now. She'd only just deciphered how to get her magic back, once and for all.

"Rupert is of the mind to discontinue your sessions with Willow," Wesley said

"But you're not?"

"On the contrary, I think it's an excellent idea. And I'm sure Mr. Travers would agree that your behavior thus far has been less than exemplary."

There was a but coming. It took everything in Esme not to smile as she waited for it.

"However..." Ah, Watcher-speak for but. Just as effective. "...we agreed to defer the decision to Willow. And...she wishes to continue."

This time, she did smile, though it was just a little one. "Willow is a smart girl," Esme said. "She understands that I'm the only one who can help her."

"Actually, she told Rupert she's no longer afraid that she won't be able to defend herself against you," Wesley countered. "She believes that the incident last night was all the proof she needed."

It rankled, but Esme nodded in agreement anyway. It wouldn't do to ruffle feathers at this point by arguing what would soon be a moot point. She waited until he left her alone again before wiping the deferential smile from her face, picking up the phone and dialing the number she'd already committed to memory.

He picked it up on the first ring. "Havi?"

Esme frowned at the weakness in Baltozar's voice. "What's wrong?" she demanded.

A heavy sigh. The sound of glass clinking. Liquid sloshing as he poured something. "Havi left me."

"What? Why?"

"Because we had a fucking fight, that's why!" The pain in his voice was raw, and she listened to him try to soothe it with the liquor she knew he was consuming. "What do you want?"

"I have a job for you."

"Fuck off. I'm done with this. I'm out of here in the morning."

Panic threatened to make her overreact. "Don't be ridiculous," Esme scolded, keeping her tone firm. "You've come too far to give up now."

"There's no point in doing any of this without Havi," Baltozar retorted. "So, you just take your magic, and your mythical Slayer artifacts, and shove 'em up your---."

"I can give her back to you."

His sharp intake of breath cut through the phone line, spurring Esme to continue before she lost him again.

"Do this thing for me, and I'll have my magic back. I can make it that Havi never leaves you again, Baltozar. All it takes is this one thing."

She waited for him to digest her words, watching the red display on the clock switch over.

"What is it?" he finally said.

Esme smiled. "Nothing you haven't done before," she said. "One little kill. A girl. She'll never see it coming."

To be continued in Chapter 28: Tomb'd with Thee...

Given the choice, Xander would've preferred just a few more minutes to try and come to grips with what exactly had just happened between him and Havi. She hadn't made any sort of overture all day, and then, to have her practically throwing herself at him? It didn't make sense. Well, it did make sense, kind of like how he could hear his parents doing the unspeakable in their bedroom sometimes after they'd had a big fight. His dad was always just a little bit easier to get along with the days after that happened. If that was the kind of relationship Havi had had with Tattoo Boy, then Xander was even more glad than he had been that she was now out of it.

The other part that surprised the hell out of him was that he'd turned her down. Xander Harris, saying no to a hot girl offering him sex with no strings attached? That apocalypse he'd thought was coming when he'd first sat down with her at the Espresso Pump seemed even more imminent now.

It was Buffy's voice that drew him from the bedroom. Ignoring the fact that his cock was still rock-hard, and that he could still taste Havi on his lips, Xander hurried from the room to see Havi poised in the middle of the stairwell, gazing down at a furious Buffy at the bottom. He skidded to a halt when Buffy's eyes jumped to him, widening slightly in surprise to see him standing there, too.

Behind her, Spike smirked. "Looks like the boy decided to take Summers hospitality just a small step further," he said.

Xander's cheeks flamed, memory of what had just happened in the spare bedroom burning bright, but he was saved from answering when Joyce emerged from the dining room.

"What's with all the shouting?" she asked in mild annoyance. She took a sharp intake of breath, closing the gap between her and Buffy to take her daughter's elbow in a light grasp. "What happened?"

For the first time, Xander noticed the awkward angle at which Buffy was holding her arm, and the bruises that mottled her tanned skin. "If Spike---," he started.

"Vamp," Buffy interrupted. "On patrol." She shot Xander a grim look. "Spike saved me."

"Let's get this taken care of." There was no arguing with Joyce's tone, or with the commanding grip of her daughter's shoulders as she guided Buffy to the dining room. "I'll explain everything while we're wrapping you up."

The absence of the two Summers' women left Havi, Xander, and Spike standing around awkwardly, and the vampire's eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded her.

"You're the bird from the other night," he commented. "When Red went all firestarter."

"Yes." Her voice was clipped, more so than usual, and Xander could see the newly sprung rigidity in her shoulders as her fingers tightened around the banister. Spike made her nervous, which wasn't all that unusual considering it was Spike. Spike made everybody nervous. However, this just seemed like...more.

Havi shook her head. Her voice had fled in light of whatever fear Spike was inspiring.

Spike, on the other hand, wasn't moving at all. In fact, Spike was currently frowning, his eyes dark as he took a step toward Havi, features tight as he seemed to be scrutinizing her more closely.

Spike closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. When they opened again, gold flecks sparkled in the blue, and his lips curled back into a snarl.

Havi started moving just seconds before Spike did, knocking Xander over as she tried to flee back to the bedroom. Spike's hand grabbed her ankle, and she lashed back, slamming her free heel into his face. The vamp bellowed in pain, his grip loosening, and Xander scooped Havi beneath her arms, trying to help her get away.

At the bottom of the stairs, Buffy appeared with half-wrapped bandages dangling from her arm. Her eyes widened in alarm, and she bolted up the stairs, two at a time, to pull at Spike with her free hand.

"Stop it!" she shouted. "I don't care what kind of macho crap this is, drop it right now!"

Leaping gracefully to her feet, Havi squared her shoulders while she maximized the distance between her and Spike. "This does not concern Xander," she said. Her voice was frighteningly calm, considering the scuffle that had just taken place.

"No, it bloody well doesn't!" Spike barked. He jabbed a finger at Havi. "You've got his smell all over you, bitch. You were the one who was there, weren't you?"

Xander leapt forward to stand between them, while Buffy took a similar position in front of Spike. "What the hell is your problem?" he demanded of the vampire. "Havi's been with me all day, so yeah, she probably does smell like me." And god, he hoped that was all Spike could smell.

Spike wasn't listening to him, though. "That was what was bugging me the other night," he continued. He was straining to attack again, but Buffy's firm palm against his chest held him back. "That's what I couldn't place. It wasn't as strong then, but now..." His nostrils flared as he sniffed determinedly at the air. "No bloody way he hasn't been rubbing up on you some time in the past few hours. Don't think I could forget the smell of the bastard that easily."

"Harris' little friend," Spike sneered. "Been playin' footsie with the wanker who killed Rose. Probably held her down while he did the job."

Xander felt the muscles in Havi's arm twitch beneath his hand. "I did no such thing," she said viciously. "I loved Rose. I---."

"Set her up, most likely," he finished for her. "I was there, you daft chit. You can't pull the wool over my eyes. And you're wearing Baltozar's scent like those cheap fags he was always smokin'. There is no way in hell you're not involved in this."

At the mention of her boyfriend's name, Xander's head whipped around, drinking in Havi's pale countenance. There was some truth in whatever crazy talk Spike was babbling about, and it dawned on him that he'd known this detail about her boyfriend somewhere in the back of his brain. That was the name Giles had tested Havi with during his interrogation of her. Xander just hadn't put the two together until now.

For a moment, he hesitated. Had he been wrong about Havi? Had all his good intentions from the day been one massive set-up on her part?

No. Impossible. She hadn't faked the bruises on her neck, and she'd been genuinely surprised to see Xander that morning. He had been the one to approach her. There was no way she was on the wrong side of whatever it was that was bugging Spike.

Buffy was frowning, pulling away from Havi as her eyes darted around. "Is that true?" she asked carefully. "You knew Rose?"

Everyone looked surprised at his contribution to the conversation. "Right," Spike drawled. "And I'm the Queen of soddin' Sheba. Stop lettin' her lead you around by the short and curlies, Harris. My money is that you'll lose 'em."

"That's who helped us this summer," Buffy said tightly. "She was killed last week."

"And I'm sorry to hear that. But Havi is telling you the truth here. She had proof for Giles and everything---."

Spike snorted. "This just gets better an' better. Let's just toss the bitch and be done with it, yeah?"

All heads turned to see Joyce standing on the stairs. Her face was solemn, her mouth thin.

"Buffy, back to the dining room," she instructed. "Spike, finish wrapping her arm. Havi, you come with me."

Xander was left standing in confusion as first Buffy and then Spike obeyed Joyce's commands. Havi hesitated at the top of the stairs, glancing back at him, and he was struck by the bleak despair in her eyes. "Can I come with you, too, Mrs. Summers?" he asked, his gaze never leaving Havi's.

After a moment, Joyce nodded. "But I want to hear what Havi has to say, not you this time," she warned. "I think too many people have been talking for her tonight already."

Havi's small sigh was the only indication of her pleasure with the decision, and Xander followed after them, carefully keeping his eyes averted from the sight of Buffy and Spike at the dining room table. He felt their gazes on him heavily as he wound his way to the back porch with Havi and Mrs. Summers, but set aside the question of their interest in Havi's boyfriend.

Xander had seen the jerk with his own two eyes. Regardless of what might have happened in the past, there was no way he was going to believe that Havi had faked the anger or hurt Baltozar had caused.

It was only when Buffy winced as he tightened a bandage that Spike realized his anger at finding the woman who'd been in Rose's home here in Sunnydale was translating into unwanted aggression in his first aid treatment. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled, and eased the tension in the elastic gauze, taping down the edge so that it wouldn't come loose.

Buffy's eyes were turned toward the closed back door. "I don't suppose you've been using that super vampire hearing of yours to eavesdrop," she commented casually.

"Been a little distracted here, in case you didn't notice." He said it with a quick flash of a smile, and was glad when she looked back to him, her eyes softening.

"Yeah, kind of did," she replied. She paused. "What do you think is going on here?"

"Yeah, that's a little weird. Do you think it's some kind of rivalry thing with Xander? I mean, you attack Havi so he automatically has to defend her?"

Spike shook his head. "According to him, he spent the whole day with her. I knew something was off with the bint the other night, but I couldn't put my nose to it 'til just now. Harris couldn't have known how I felt."

"Would stake my life on it. Hell, I'd stake the baby's life on it, that's how sure I am, luv."

With a heavy sigh, Buffy leaned back in her seat, angling her body so that she could lift her legs and rest them on Spike's lap. Her hands rubbed absently over her stomach, a small moue making her so delectable that he forgot momentarily about the business outside.

"What kind of life am I going to be able to give this baby, Spike?" she asked softly. "I can't get through one night without some kind of ER melodrama. How am I going to be around for all the little things, like midnight feedings and her first tooth and---?"

"Stop right there." Pulling her shoes off, Spike began rubbing Buffy's feet, strong fingers loosening the tension in the arches. "Buggy before the horse, pet. First off, you're not alone in this so nothin's going to be missed. You've got me, and your mum, and Rupert when he gets his head out of his ass 'bout me bein' the father. Then there's Red and Oz and---."

She cut him off with a wave of his hand, a small chuckle escaping her lips. "OK, I get the idea."

Spike chewed at the inside of his cheek. Buffy was lost in her ruminations, probably dwelling on what had happened back at the cemetery as well as the drama outside. After what she'd admitted to, he desperately wanted to bring up the issue of her patrols, but he was still half-convinced that she'd automatically take it the wrong way and brush him off. Next time, she might not be so lucky. He might not be there to stop some nasty from having their one good day.

"You're goin' to let me do what I came here to do, right?" Not asking the question was impossible, and when she looked at him with a tiny frown, he elaborated, "Watchin' your back. 'Specially now. It's why I'm here, after all."

Something darkened in her eyes, and Buffy shifted her feet off his lap, curling into a tiny ball on the chair. "Do I have to watch those kind of displays every time?" she joked feebly.

"Yeah, but it's definitely not of the fun to see." She picked at the edges of the gauze. "Maybe...we should just make it a permanent thing anyway."

"Patrolling together." She was deliberately avoiding his eyes. "Between school, and the baby, and Willow, and this vigilante business, and now Havi...wow, it's no wonder I'm all stressy. When I put it like that, I don't know how I'm doing it, either."

She was actually bringing up the issue herself. It was more than Spike would've wished for. "No reason you can't even start taking some nights off," he said eagerly. "Let me take some of the pressure off."

But she was already shaking her head. "I don't want anybody to baby me," Buffy argued.

"It's not you---," he started, but at her sharp look, he amended, "OK, it's not just you. Got a fair interest in keeping the little one safe, you know. You think I like the idea of something happening to either one of you? It bloody tears me apart, Buffy. I've got just as much right to want to do what it takes to protect it as you do."

"And tomorrow? And the night after that? You can't tell me you were planning on me bein' at your side every time you get an itch for a spot of violence, pet. That's not your style."

Her lips tightened, her gaze falling again. Before either of them could say anything else, however, the back door opened, and a subdued Xander ambled inside, Havi on his heels. Spike frowned when he saw the way Harris was holding the young woman's hand, but his mouth snapped shut when he caught the stern look on Joyce's face.

"Havi's staying," Joyce said firmly. "And the two of you are going to have a long talk about what exactly is going on."

"Now wait a bloody minute," Spike said, jumping to join the fray. His ill temper returned when he saw the proud jut of Havi's chin. "There's certain things you don't know about---."

"I know enough." Joyce nodded toward the living room. "Why don't you girls go get comfortable? Xander's going to wait for the pizza, and I'd like to have a word with Spike in private."

Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't smiled at him once since he'd shown up on her doorstep that put Spike on edge about Joyce's intentions. Watching the others disperse according to her instructions, he had no choice but to follow after the elder Summers when she headed back to the kitchen, hopping up onto the counter to try and hide his sudden nervousness about speaking with her.

"I haven't seen you since Monday," she said, reaching up into the cupboard to pull out two mugs. Putting them down with the three others that were already next to the stove, she added, "How are you doing?"

Somehow, he didn't think this little chitchat was really about his health. "Not that I don't appreciate the niceties," he said, "but don't s'pose you could just cut to the chase here, could you? Been a bit of a tryin' day."

Joyce's mouth curled into a small smile. "Wait until the baby gets here. All of this is just the pre-show."

He couldn't help but chuckle as she turned away to finish up the hot chocolate preparation she'd been interrupted in. "S'pose you've got a point there."

"There's actually two things I wanted to talk to you about," she said as she worked. "I've heard Havi's side of the story. Now I want to hear yours."

Mention of the other woman raised Spike's hackles. "What did that bitch tell you?" he growled.

Joyce turned a stern look at him. "As long as Havi's a guest here, Spike, I'd prefer if you didn't refer to her like that in my presence, understand? I've asked the same of her and Xander, so don't think this has anything to do with you. It's just a courtesy I'd like to expect from everyone. There's enough stress going around as it is." She waited for him to nod. "Now. Tell me why it is you thought it was OK to attack someone who's a guest in my home."

There was that maternal condescension in her tone as she spoke, shaming Spike in ways that hadn't happened since he'd been human, and he dropped his voice respectfully as he related the tale. She already knew the history of it from when he and Buffy had told the story of their summer, so he just skimmed over those details, jumping ahead to his search for Rose after Buffy had left London and how he'd eventually found the seer.

"Never really liked that Baltozar, but since he was Lydia's contact, I didn't question it," Spike said. "But there's no doubt in my mind that he's the one who offed Rose, or that that Havi chit has seen him in the last few hours. That means he's in Sunnydale, and if you think I'm goin' to just take a back seat while there's a potential threat to Buffy out there, you don't know me at all, Joyce."

"Yes, I think I'm beginning to see that." Her gaze turned to the doorway, through which the low murmur of Buffy and Havi's voices could be heard. "She doesn't deny being with this Baltozar, so you know."

Spike snorted. "'Course not. She knows she'd be found out in two ticks if she lied about it."

He frowned, thrown by the question, and stretched his memory back. "Can't say that I did."

"Baltozar caused them. Xander personally witnessed him attacking Havi. He brought her here because she needed someplace safe to stay."

"Red herring. Likely, she's settin' the lot of us up for something, waitin' until our guard is down."

"So, because she's got a questionable history, you think I should just dismiss any claims she has that she means us no harm now?"

The question was ingenuous, and Spike caught her angle within seconds of her finishing. "Oi," he said, straightening. "That's not the same thing."

"Were trying to kill each other less than a year ago, if I remember correctly. And yet, now you're vowing to be a father to her baby. Supposedly."

Spike scowled. He had a feeling she would have something to throw at just about anything he might say in his defense. "It's not the same," he repeated, petulantly.

Joyce poured the hot chocolate into the mugs, leaving the room quiet for a few minutes while she did so. "I'm not going into this completely blind," she finally said, handing him a steaming mug. She crossed to the pantry to pull out a bag of mini marshmallows. "First thing tomorrow morning, Havi and I will go see Rupert. Xander claims that he has more evidence that will support Havi's side of the story."

"Good to see my word means something 'round here," he muttered, staring into the filmy surface of his drink.

He watched her drop a small handful of marshmallows into his mug. "Spike," she said, and the gentle tone in her voice dragged his gaze away to meet hers. "I haven't thanked you yet for helping Buffy tonight. What you did...that says a lot. So, thank you."

Suddenly uncomfortable, he shrugged. "I love her," he said simply. "If she'd let me take the patrols completely just so that I knew she was safe, I'd do it. No question."

He should've known Joyce would corner him on this sooner or later. Was he good enough to help provide for her daughter? Was he there just to pursue a physical relationship with Buffy? Mama Summers was ready to divine the truth, it would seem.

"Still gettin' myself sorted," he said. "Haven't even had much of a chance to breathe, if you can pardon the figure of speech. But I will," he hastened to add. "Just as soon---."

"The basement needs a good cleaning, but there are only windows at the one end, and it would be big enough for you to make into your own space without feeling like you're just a guest. I'm sure Buffy would feel more comfortable knowing you're somewhere she knows is safe, and when the baby comes, having you around means I'll get to see my grandbaby more."

"As long as you're not going to poke fun at me for suggesting it," she said with a smile.

"No, it's just..." He shook his head, still awed by the fact that she'd proposed it. "Why?"

"Because I'm selfish." It was said simply, with complete sincerity. "Buffy's in college now, and the fact that I only found out about the two of you a couple of days ago just shows how much she's growing up. This is a way for me to make sure I don't miss out on too much of it."

His gaze was fixed by the white fluff starting to melt across the surface of his hot chocolate, and Spike stuck his finger into the fluid, stirring it up before lifting it to his mouth and sucking it clean. Buffy'd already been talking around the issue of his getting a place, bringing up the possibility of the Watcher and most likely nursing other ideas to pull out in case Wesley didn't pan. How would she feel about this arrangement?

"You don't have to answer me now," Joyce said, edging away to start putting the mugs of chocolate on a tray. "But there's something else in it that works in your favor."

"If you don't trust Havi, this is the best place for you to keep an eye on her." Shooting him a small smile, Joyce picked up the tray and exited the room.

He felt like crap, and he'd been in and out of consciousness all day, but Graham could tell by how the older British guy was so careful with him that he probably looked a hell of a lot worse than he really was. After the last aborted attempt at interrogation, the man---Giles, he remembered them saying his name was---returned with a first aid kit, seeing to the superficial bleeding that had occurred when Graham had passed out again. He'd stayed silent, but the compassion in those weary eyes had spoken volumes, leaving Graham more than a little perplexed when the chains that bound him were loosened slightly.

Giles didn't consider him a threat. After all the precautions he'd taken, Giles seemed to be of the opinion that Graham was more incapacitated than he actually was.

He didn't say a word. Speaking would likely reveal how much strength he really had. He just watched through heavy lids, struggling to keep his appearance sluggish, while Giles went about his nightly ritual. It was telling that Graham's presence didn't seem to bother him too much any more, even more reason Graham had to risk the odds. He just had to time it correctly.

Graham's foot shot out, all his energy focused on the limited range of motion he had with it, and slammed into Giles' shoulder. The Brit's head jerked to the side, cracking against the porcelain, and he slumped to the ground, already out cold from the blow to his brow. Quickly, Graham rolled out of the tub and crawled over to the prone form, fumbling in his pockets for the keys he'd seen Giles secret away earlier. Within a minute, he was free.

He hesitated when he stepped outside, inhaling the cool night air with a wondrous delight before glancing back at the door. Against his better judgment, he darted back in, hurrying to the bathroom and double-checking Giles' vitals. Stable. He'd survive. Probably wake up with a hell of a headache, though.

There was no more time left to linger. With his concern appeased, Graham disappeared again into the night. There was only one place he could go after being gone for so long. He only hoped that Dr. Walsh didn't have a court martial in mind when she saw him.

In her mother's house, Buffy realized she would always feel fifteen. She'd complied with the request to hear Havi out without question, even though she was dying to know what her mom was saying to Spike. She'd listened to Havi's story with minimal interruption, half-listening for shouts of "Bloody hell!" from the kitchen. She'd not even dropped the conversation to find out from Xander just why he'd suddenly developed the need to be Sunnydale's welcome wagon, remembering her mother's warning about concentrating on hearing Havi's story to the end.

But just because she did what her mother asked, didn't mean Buffy could process it as blithely as was probably expected. Her head was splitting. She had questions upon questions that couldn't be answered. It felt like she hadn't slept in over a year.

So, as soon as Havi was done, and as soon as Spike appeared in the living room entrance, lounging against the jamb as he watched her sitting on the couch, Buffy did the only thing she could.

To her credit---so she thought---she did manage to toss her mom a cursory good-bye, using the excuse of an early class to escape further confrontation. Brushing past Spike, she headed straight for the front door, not bothering to look back until she realized he wasn't right behind her.

Their eyes met when she glanced over her shoulder. Locking with the dark blue was all it took for him to straighten and come to her side.

On the way out to the car, Buffy wondered silently just when she'd come to depend on Spike being there for her.

In spite of the chaos of her thoughts, the corner of Buffy's mouth lifted at the very obvious reminder of William's genteel manner. Had Spike held doors open for Drusilla? Part of her wanted to think yes, because then that would mean William had been there all along, as she suspected.

Another, more selfish, part wanted to think no. Because then that would mean William really was all Buffy's.

"Anywhere but here," she answered. She glanced up when the door didn't close right away, seeing Spike's outline against the star-studded sky. "Is there a problem with that?"

He shrugged. "Just that there's a whole lotta world that's not here," he said casually.

Her gaze flickered to the house behind him, catching her mother's shadow cross along the living room curtain and then disappearing again. "Your place?"

Something dark passed behind his eyes, but after a moment, Spike nodded and shut her door. Burrowing deep into the seat, Buffy shifted her body so that she was facing his by the time he joined her inside. "Just for a few hours," she clarified. "Just long enough for me to get my head together. I still don't have any clothes at the hotel, and repeating Slutty Buffy by getting dropped off at the dorm in the morning doesn't sound like my idea of fun."

Nodding, Spike pulled away from the curb in silence, guiding the car with an indolent hand at the top of the wheel. "Take it your little confab with Harris' chit didn't sit so well," he commented.

Buffy sighed. "I don't know if it's that, exactly," she said. "More of a lot of information to try and process all at once. My brain feels like it's going to explode."

Switching hands on the wheel, Spike reached across the seat, curling his fingers around her good wrist to guide her into the space beneath his arm. Her cheek pressed against the leather of his duster, and Buffy closed her eyes as the gentle weight of his hold curled around her shoulders. This was better. This always seemed to banish some of the confusion for her.

He shifted beneath her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to pull away. "She asked me 'bout my side of the story with Rose," he said instead. Buffy glanced up to see Spike staring out the windshield, his features hard. "Guess she wanted to see if it gelled with what the bitch had to say."

There was a pause. "Doesn't matter what I think, now does it? She's staying there, regardless."

Buffy lapsed back into silence, closing her eyes to focus on the sounds of the road around them, the feel of Spike beneath her touch. He wasn't OK with Havi, in any shape or form. When Buffy had come onto his attack at the top of the stairs, it had taken her breath momentarily away to see Spike so enraged. She hadn't seen that since his days with Dru, and though she recognized that it wasn't directed at her, it was still a little frightening. It only served to remind her of the demon that lived within him.

"Havi said some things," Buffy started slowly, and felt him tense at the mention of the name.

"I'm not sure what to believe, to be honest." Pulling back, Buffy sat up so that she could meet his eyes. "She knew things, Spike. Things nobody but Rose could've known. She made it sound very convincing."

His mouth opened to rebut her opinion, but then what she said sank in. "She made what sound convincing?" he asked carefully.

Buffy swallowed. This was the part that was giving her the biggest headache. "Why she's here."

His nostrils flared, and she saw his knuckles tighten around the steering wheel. "Something tells me I'm not goin' to like this," he muttered.

"The one where Rose told Havi she needed to come here and protect me. Havi isn't sure if it's because of the baby or...because of you."

The wheel jerked in his agitation, and the swerving of the car made Buffy slide across the seat, jolting harshly against the arm rest. "Watch it!" she complained, and shot him an annoyed glare as she held on, waiting for him to regain control. When it looked like he was going to do a u-turn in the middle of the road, her hand shot out to stop him.

"Because you're not picking another fight with her in my mother's house, that's why. Do you want to make it even harder for Mom to accept that you're a part of my life now? This is hard enough as it is. Why do you want to make it worse?"

"Do what? It seems to me I'm the one making sure you don't mess this up for us."

She heard the audible click of his teeth slamming together, and caught his glance in his mirror before he changed lanes to make an unexpected turn. The force of it broke Buffy's hold from his hand, and she looked at him, surprised that he was reacting so violently.

"What's your damage?" she demanded. How had things soured so quickly? she thought, and then stopped, recognizing one of the street signs as it went whizzing past. "Wait a minute. Scratch that. Where are you going?"

"Campus," Spike replied through gritted teeth. "I'm droppin' you off at your dorm."

"'Cause I'm not about to drop you off in the middle of nowhere and make you walk back, much as the notion of that appeals right now."

Buffy's temper rose again. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" she asked. "Because I've got no clue here."

A red light forced them to slow down, though Buffy could see Spike's foot twitch to gun his way through it. He didn't, though. He just slammed to a stop and glared up at the scarlet spot.

"Told you I'd do anything for you," he said. His voice was barely more than a rumble. "And I meant it. Knew it would mean some...sacrifices, but I just...it never occurred to me that you'd want to hold me back completely. You're cuttin' me off at the knees here, Buffy. I can't patrol for you. I can't defend myself. I can't even have an opinion without you thinkin' I'm tryin' to sabotage what's goin' on. Knew I was love's bitch and all, but didn't think it came with its own soddin' muzzle."

"Oh, really? So, you'll let me take your patrols 'til that wrist of yours is better?" He watched her with a cocked brow, but when her silence betrayed just what she thought of that idea, Spike snorted. "Right. That's what I figured."

"There's a way to get things done around here, Spike, and you going off half-cocked isn't it."

"Nope," he said, and then floored it when the light turned green, squealing the tires through the intersection. "There's Buffy's way, or the highway. I'm startin' to see that now."

"You tell me. You let old William take more risks than you let me, pet. Maybe he's the one you really want around. Ol' Spike's just a nice reminder of a pleasant summer holiday, and a convenient shag for when the fancy takes you."

That was it. Ignoring her injured wrist, Buffy leapt for the wheel, forcing him to swerve over to the curb, the car bouncing up on the concrete before he could yank it back onto the street. Her foot slid between his legs, hitting the brake, and the vehicle jerked to a halt.

"I don't know what it is about this car that makes you go around the bend," she said, "but I for one am getting pretty damn tired of having fights while you're driving."

She was practically shouting at him, her fury at his blindness and his erratic mood making her vibrate from the intensity. Half of her body was draped over him in her desperation to get him to stop the car, her breasts pressed into his side as her inner thigh rubbed along his leg, and Buffy became all too aware of the power beneath the denim, the barely restrained violence that hummed beneath his skin.

Spike's eyes glittered as they met hers. "Don't think because you could wind William 'round that pretty little finger of yours with just a smile and a flash of leg," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "that the same tricks will work on me. You've got a whole new beast here to tame, Buffy. I love you, yeah. And so help me, I'd set this whole world on fire if it meant keepin' you and the little one safe. That doesn't mean I'm goin' to just bend over and let you bugger me into bein' some memory for you."

"Very easily, luv. Very easily." Slowly, his face shifted before hers, bones rearranging, fangs elongating. "Know you love the poet, but the thing is...do you even like the demon? You don't trust him, that's for sure." His face changed back until those hard blue eyes were boring into hers again. "You keep sayin' you see William in me, but you're forgetting that I'm Spike, too. You can't just sweep the last century under the rug. It happened. To me. Been scrapping far longer than I breathed on this rock, and that just doesn't go away because you don't want to have to deal with it." Again, his features merged until it was the vampire meeting her eye to eye. "Been a pisser of a night. Too much mistrust goin' around for my taste, especially since I thought we were startin' to get past that, and I just want to beat something to a bloody pulp right about now. You goin' to stop me from doin' that, too?"

She didn't know why she did it. Maybe it was hearing him call her on the carpet so blatantly for refusing to give him the slack he needed. Maybe it was the unspoken dare he'd tossed before her. Or maybe it was the hard muscle rubbing so close to her sex.

Buffy kissed Spike. Hard. Her lip sliced on his fang almost at the first contact, the blood flooding her tongue with warm copper, and Spike reacted immediately, growling as he pulled her roughly the rest of the way onto his lap, his tongue pushing past hers to plunder and taste the swelter of her mouth. His fingers dug painfully into her hips, and she twisted her leg in order to wedge it down his other side, straddling him as best as the front seat and steering wheel allowed.

She kissed him until the spots were starting to dance behind her eyes, lights of scarlet and yellow reminding her with their flitting of her need to breathe. When she tried to break away, however, Spike growled again, lifting a hand to tangle in her hair and yank her back to his mouth, while his other slid between their bodies. She gasped at the cool feel of his fingertips across her stomach, and squirmed against the hard creases of the denim, desperate to increase the friction.

"Spike..." she murmured. Mimicking his hold, her fingers found the loose curls at his nape, her nails raking across the skin.

She felt him shiver, break away. When her eyes opened, Buffy found herself staring into the stormy blue again, his vampire visage gone. She hadn't even realized she couldn't feel his fangs any more against her tongue.

"Won't work," he said, but his hands didn't move away, the one at her waist deliberately undoing the button of her pants. "This doesn't make the fight go away, Buffy."

"I didn't think it would." She gasped when his long fingers slid into her underwear, pushing past her outer folds to trace her inner lips.

"God, you're so wet." He said it with more than a touch of amazement, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Never breaking her gaze, Spike probed further, driving three fingers into her so deeply that she arched back against the steering wheel.

"You're a jerk, you know that?" she hissed as he began to fuck her. Her hands clawing into his unyielding flesh, she began to ride up and down on his fingers. "I didn't...oh god...this isn't about..." Her attempts to explain were suffocated by the waves of pleasure washing through her, and Buffy gave it up, slamming her mouth back to his as he continued to stroke in and out of her wet depths.

The kisses were no longer marathons, but rather, each was a sprint, a burst of power halted when she thrashed away, or when Spike threw his head back against the rest when Buffy reached between them to grab his cock through his jeans. Her skin thrummed with each drive, hummed and breathed and came to life as only happened when this man---this vampire---touched her. She came screaming his name, her sweat-slicked brow sliding against his as she sought his mouth yet again, and when the return of his fangs cut her tongue, she let him suck on it, let him swallow down the droplets of blood that rose to the tender surface.

"I do trust you," Buffy rasped when they finally broke away. "I know who you are, Spike. You're not a substitute."

His fingers were still buried inside her pussy, though now they were just as still as the rest of him as he pulled back to look at her. His tongue licked a stray spot of blood from his lip, but the hardness was already returning to his eyes.

"Your mum didn't just want to talk about that Havi. She offered me a place to stay."

"Told her I'd think about it." His fingers began stroking her inner walls, his thumb brushing over her clit. "That I needed to talk to you first."

It was hard to concentrate when he was taking command of her body so efficiently, and Buffy pulled away, sliding down to the leather seat beside him, forcing his hands to come free of her flesh.

Spike seemed to be expecting her response. With a shake of his head, his vampire mask disappeared and he averted his eyes from hers to stare out the window.

The fury had dissipated, vanished just as quickly as it had come. His voice gave away his pain, his disappointment building the wall she now felt between them. Carefully, Buffy reached out, wincing when he flinched at her touch.

"Lettin' me get you off and then running away when I ask one thing from you? Felt like an answer to me, pet."

"That wasn't---." She exhaled loudly, clearing her head. "I moved off because I can't think straight when you touch me, Spike. If you want this to be a serious conversation, you doing...what you were doing isn't the way to have it."

He didn't say a word, just continued staring at the night. The reflection of the moonlight through the glass made his hair look like spun silver, cast his face in shadows of black and white. It effectively hid his eyes from her and Buffy realized that she hated that.

"Look at me," she demanded. When he didn't react quickly enough, she slid back onto his lap, feeling his erection pressing into her ass. "Do you want to?" Buffy asked.

Spike shrugged. "Tell the truth, I'm not sure what I want. Coulda knocked me over with a feather when she suggested it. But don't you fuss. I won't---."

"You want me livin' in the same house as your mum." Thick brows drew together in disbelief, his tone skeptical. "Is that what you're tellin' me?"

"No, I'm saying that if it's a solution you think you can live with, you should take it before she changes her mind. She's been known to do that, you know."

Her stab at humor fell on deaf ears. "Even knowin' that bitch is goin' to be livin' with her?" he pressed. "You trust me around her?"

She knew what he was driving at, and though her heart started to skid at some of the bloodier possibilities of Spike and Havi alone in the same house together, Buffy gritted her teeth and nodded. He needed this. And the fact of the matter was, she did trust him. It was just letting that trust be manifest that scared the living daylights out of her.

A tremulous hand reached up and brushed a lock of hair off her cheek. "You have to mean it, Buffy," Spike whispered. "Don't give me this and then change your mind tomorrow. You've got no bloody idea how much I want this."

"I think I do." Leaning forward, Buffy pressed her lips to his, the kiss simple and chaste. "I trust you with the life of my child. Our child. If that doesn't that tell you that I mean what I'm saying, I don't know what else to do."

This time, the reaction was his. The force of his mouth to hers shoved her painfully against the steering wheel until Spike twisted her sideways, pressing her down into the seat and covering her body with his own. Hands clawed at her clothing, her top tearing, her pants scraping against tender skin when he shoved them down her hips. Buffy tried to help, reaching down to free his hard shaft from his jeans, but the moment Spike realized what she'd done, he positioned his erection at her entrance and shoved inside.

Just in time, Buffy reached above her hand to brace herself against the door, slamming back against his hips to match his pounding rhythm. There was no attempt at foreplay, no pretense of tenderness. Nails and teeth and ravenous mouths were again their weapons of choice, carving their need from the other in marked flesh. The emotions that had been simmering below their skins erupted in flame, engulfing them as Spike drove into her with every last ounce of feeling he had left.

He came with a shout, not bothering to see to her climax first in his need. But as he pumped those last few times inside her, Buffy climaxed again, shivering and rippling around his cock as he buried his face in her neck. Through the clouds of their orgasms, she could've sworn she felt something wet on her face, but when Spike finally pulled back, his eyes were clear, his love for her burning behind the blue.

"I love you," he said, his voice rough. "So much, sometimes I think it's goin' to kill me."

"Well, that's not good," she said with a smile. "I can't say I'm all that thrilled about you dying on me any time soon."

Spike shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. "This doesn't make it all better, you know." Carefully, he pulled back, sitting up and adjusting himself as Buffy did the same. "There's still sortin' to be done between us."

His smile grew wider, softening his features. "Maybe a little," Spike conceded. "Still want to beat the hell out of something, though."

"Go to Willy's," Buffy said. "I haven't had a chance to get over and clear things out for awhile. It'll spread the word that you're back in town, too." She grinned. "Can you see their faces when they realize what's going on? William the Bloody and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, tag team extraordinaire."

She was rewarded with another brilliant smile, and settled back into her seat as he eased the car back onto the road. It was a small step, and he was right about there being more work to be done. She'd never realized the extent of his feelings about the way she regarded him. Even asking to call him William occasionally must've driven that doubt even deeper into him.

Then something else popped into her head, forgotten during their fight, and Buffy turned to Spike as she spoke.

"I told Havi she was wrong about you," she said. "Just like Rose was. Whatever reason Rose sent her here, it's got nothing to do with you being a danger to anyone, especially me or the baby. And for good measure, I told her if she laid a finger on my boyfriend, I'd lay more than that on her. So, see? No problems with Havi."

He reached to take her hand in his, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss into the palm. "Still got a problem with the bitch," Spike said. "But thank you for that. 'Course, you could've saved us both a lot of headache if you'd just told me that in the first place."

She punched his arm at that, smiling along with his teasing laugh. Steps forward, even small ones, were always of the good. Buffy was grateful that she'd managed to keep them on that particular path. She had a feeling she was going to need all the friends and allies as she could gather for the months ahead. It was good to have Spike as both.

Robin's first report was encouraging. Maggie had decided that the route she'd chosen for Riley to get close to the Slayer had been flawed, encouraging him to develop feelings for Ms. Summers which could prove detrimental to the Initiative in the long run. His death had pre-empted that from occurring, but Maggie suspected that it would have been a very possible outcome. Thankfully, Robin's added age made the option of using him as a romantic interest less appealing. Threatening the Slayer's scholastic future seemed the best way to drive the pair closer together, encouraging Buffy to find an ally in unexpected places. Maggie was convinced this was going to work much better.

There were other issues at hand, though, not the least of which was Graham's continued disappearance. Her usual resources were failing her, and she was about to resort to more unorthodox measures when there was a loud thump outside her office door.

She opened the door to see a flurry of guards rushing down the hall, but it was the crumpled body on the form that drew the wealth of her attention. There, in the middle of the floor, was the object of her worry.

He was unconscious, his clothes torn as if he'd been running and fallen. There were no obvious injuries except for on his face. Deep purple shadowed beneath Graham's eyes, livid and stark against the white of the Initiative hallway. She recognized the signs, and while she was certain the guards would think the unconscious soldier had been in some sort of a fight, Maggie knew differently. This was the result of Graham's body fighting against the magic that kept each of her men bound from revealing the true extent of their responsibilities. Somebody had attempted to pry him of his secrets.

"Get him into isolation," Maggie ordered, before the guards could raise the question. "We don't know where he's been. As soon as he's been looked over, I'll be there to question him."

They obeyed without hesitation, scooping him up and marching away from her office. Maggie wasn't sure she was happy to see Graham. If it was discovered he'd revealed Initiative secrets, she would have no recourse but to have him eliminated. She really didn't want to do that. She hoped for Graham's sake, the magic had worked.

It would be worth it if Esme got her magic back. That was Baltozar's mantra as he watched the redheaded girl moving back and forth in front of her window, oblivious to the fact that she was being watched. If the old bat got her powers back, she could do something suitably nasty to Havi's little boytoy before guaranteeing that Havi would never leave Baltozar again. He was thinking something involving spiders. Lots of them. Small ones that crawled into the tiniest of orifices before starting their painful damage.

This one, though...he still wasn't sure what the big deal about killing this particular girl was. She was just a college student. Esme had warned him that she had quite powerful magical powers, which meant that he would not only have to take her by surprise but that he would have to make it quick so that she wouldn't have time for retaliation. But it still didn't give him a why, and Esme had been tightlipped about her reasoning.

Not that he really cared. A job was a job. Esme had paid him too handsomely over the years not to give her satisfaction on this one, too.

When the black Thunderbird came roaring up to the curb, it was impossible not to avert his attention momentarily. Baltozar's lips quirked into a smile as his eyes swept over the sleek lines. Nice car, even if it needed a new paint job.

His smile faded when the two blonds emerged, the guy's head almost glowing white under the streetlights as he stepped around the front to meet the girl. Though he couldn't hear the words they exchanged, he could see the passion in the kiss they shared, the way she clung to him even after their mouths had separated. Something inside Baltozar burned in jealousy, remembering too many times when that had been him and Havi, her hard muscles pressing against him as her lips did a wicked dance over his.

But now he suspected what Esme's game was. Especially when the girl headed toward the same dorm he'd been watching the redhead in for the past two hours.

Spike was in town. The same Spike Esme had been adamant not find Rose until it was too late.

Baltozar saw the second figure join the redhead. So, Spike's girlfriend was roommates with the young witch. At least he could see the connection now, even if he didn't know what exactly the purpose of the kill would be.

The only good thing he could see in Havi's temporary absence was that this time, he didn't have to figure out how to do the job behind her back. Havi had found out too late about his killing of Rose, and while she had been furious at his betrayal, she'd loved him too much to argue when he explained it was all for the greater good.

Baltozar dropped his cigarillo to the ground and crushed it beneath his boot as he watched Spike speed off. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day.