Chapter 21

"...Where shall I find a red rose budding?—/Out in the garden where all things grow.—/But out in my garden a flood was flooding/And never a red rose began to blow./Out in a flooding what should be budding?/All flooding!/Now is winter and now is sorrow,/No roses but only thorns today:/Thorns will put on roses tomorrow,/Winter and sorrow scudding away,/No more winter and no more sorrow/Tomorrow." ~Christina Rossetti, "Where Shall I Find a White Rose?"

Spike had been expecting Buffy to arrive for patrol that night. What he hadn't been expecting was the look of despair on her face.

It had been quite a while since either of them had been out on patrol without the other. At this point, it was simply understood that Spike would accompany her. The truth was that both of them enjoyed the other's presence enough to not avoid the contact.

Spike wasn't quite sure what to do with this Buffy, however. She rarely let any weakness show, and she certainly never volunteered the information. This time Buffy was coming to him not because she wanted him to kill a demon, but because she expected him to cheer her up.

He wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

"What's wrong, luv?" Spike asked immediately.

Buffy shook her head, her arms wrapped around herself. She didn't know what she was doing here. It would have been better to just go home. The hours of research the gang had helped her with had been worthless. There was nothing about curses on Slayers, nothing about why she might suddenly lose all her strength and coordination.

When she didn't reply, Spike led her into the living room with a hand on her back, sitting down on the couch and waiting for her to join him. "Buffy?"

"Have—have you ever heard of a curse on Slayers?" Buffy asked, her voice holding an edge of desperation.

Spike frowned. "Not that I recall. Nothing specifically for the Slayer anyway. What's this about then?"

Buffy explained about the vampire that had nearly bitten her two nights before, losing her coordination, and—worst of all—not even being able to stop a no-neck from getting rough with Cordelia. "He just shoved me, and I fell on my ass," Buffy finished. "Giles keeps saying that it's nothing, that it's some flu bug."

"You don't think so?" Spike asked.

Buffy shook her head emphatically. "I've been sick before, Spike. This isn't being sick; this is me not being the Slayer." She stood, beginning to pace. "Who am I if I'm not the Slayer?"

Spike stood as well, stopping her by placing his hands on her shoulders. "Buffy, being the Slayer doesn't have anything to do with being strong. It has to do with you going out night after night, trying to keep the worst from happening."

"How can I do that if I can't even stop a kid at school? Cordelia did a better job of fending him off than I did." Buffy shook her head. "If I'm not the Slayer, Spike—"

He gave her a little shake. "Quit it, Summers. You are the bloody Slayer. Haven't you been listening to me?"

"You didn't know me before I got Called," she argued. "I was worse than Cordelia."

"So what?" Spike shot back. "You've changed since then. We all change when we have to."

Buffy stared at him. "You changed."

"I had to."

"I don't understand," Buffy said suddenly. "Why do this? You said this isn't just a job to you anymore, but I don't know what changed."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "Dunno, luv. It's just different."

"Spike..."

Buffy was asking him to describe what couldn't be put into words. Spike feared trying to explain, not knowing what her reaction might be, what she might say. He thought she might feel something for him, but his growing affection made him cautious.

Spike had cared before, but not like this. Not since Drusilla. And that was the whole problem right there.

"It's not about you being the Slayer," he finally said. "You—you try."

Buffy watched as he turned away, and she could feel the emotions rolling off him in great waves. Spike frightened her sometimes with his intensity. The depth of feeling that hummed between them.

The realization that it was happening again. She was falling in love again.

And Spike was just as scared as she was.

Buffy took a tentative step forward and laid a hand on his back, the thin material of his t-shirt the only thing that stood between them. Well, that and their pasts, and the whole being a Slayer thing. Those were pretty big, too.

They stood like that for a long time, the silence strangely comfortable, before he finally turned to face her. "We'll get this sorted," he promised.

"I know." Buffy knew she'd have to make the first move in this case, and so she stepped closer, within the circle of Spike's arms.

Spike held her. It had been so long since he'd been able to indulge in something so simple as a hug. It felt unbelievably good. "I'll drive you home."

She pulled back slightly. "You don't have to, Spike."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're joking, right?"

"Spike, I—"

"Don't argue." Spike cut her off abruptly. "I'm driving you home. If you think I'd risk you getting hurt, you're mental."

Buffy finally sighed. "Okay. You can drive me home."

Spike's phone rang, and he answered it, impatient with the interruption. "Yeah." He frowned when he heard the voice on the other end. "She's here, Watcher." There was a longer pause, and then his eyes went cold, colder than Buffy had ever seen them. "We'll wait for you."

"What is it?"

"Your Watcher is on his way over," Spike said quietly. "Says he knows what's going on."

Buffy stared at him. "It's more than that," she stated. "You know what it is."

"I can guess," was all Spike would say. He had grown silent and remote, and Buffy couldn't understand it.

For Spike, the pieces had finally fallen into place. Giles had wanted him to go out looking for Buffy. The Watcher had called Joyce to be sure she'd arrived home safely, and when she wasn't there, he had grown worried.

Much more anxious than he probably should have been if Buffy was simply fighting off a touch of the flu.

Giles' insistence that he come over immediately, the thread of guilt that Spike could hear in his tone, and—perhaps most telling of all—the fact that the Watcher had asked him not to come to Buffy's training this last week.

Spike had the feeling that Giles knew exactly what was behind Buffy's loss of strength, and there was a good possibility that he had something to do with it. The vampire wasn't going to voice his suspicions, for fear of upsetting the Slayer needlessly if he was wrong.

Buffy was searching his face for some kind of sign, and Spike met her eyes. "I can't say for sure, pet. We'll just have to wait for Rupert."

They didn't have to wait long. Giles was knocking on the door less than ten minutes later, and as soon as he entered the house, Spike knew his suspicions had been correct. He'd been around long enough to know guilt when he smelled it. His talent for sniffing out that sort of thing had served him well over the years, and he was amazingly accurate.

Spike wished he wasn't this time.

Giles was quiet as he came into the living room. Buffy watched him, and Spike could see the fear on her face. "Do you know what's wrong with me?" she asked. "Can we fix it, Giles?"

Her Watcher put a leather satchel on the couch, opening it and pulling out a syringe and a small bottle. "It's—it's an organic mixture of muscle relaxants and adrenal suppressors."

Spike felt Buffy's shock. "What?"

"The effect is temporary," Giles assured her. "You'll be yourself again in a few days."

"You?" She turned to look at Spike. "Did—" When he shook his head, Buffy looked at Giles again. "Why?"

Giles swallowed hard. "It's a test, Buffy, given to the Slayer when—if she reaches her, um, her eighteenth birthday. She is disabled, and then trapped in a house with a vampire. To pass the test she must kill it."

"You bastard," Buffy spat. "You saw what this was doing to me!"

Giles wouldn't quite meet her eyes. "In matters of tradition and protocol, I must answer to the Council, Buffy. My role was quite specific. I was to disable you and lead you to the old boarding house on Prescott Lane. I wanted to tell you, but—"

"Liar!"

The single word struck him like a blow. Giles flinched. "The vampire has escaped and killed at least one of the Watchers that was there," he continued, forging on. "Now that I've told you, the test is invalidated. You'll be safe, I promise."

"How will I be safe?" Buffy demanded angrily. "You stuck a needle in me! I could have been killed before I even got to this stupid test."

Giles reached out to comfort her. "Buffy—"

"If you touch me, I'll kill you!" she spat, backing up right into Spike's chest.

The vampire brought his hands down on her shoulders. "Easy, luv," he murmured. "We'll sort this." The blue eyes were cold when he looked at Giles, and the Watcher knew he hadn't been far wrong when he worried about Spike killing him. "What do you know about this vampire?"

"His name is Zachary Kralik," Giles said. "When he was alive, he tortured and murdered more than a dozen women before he was put away in an asylum for the criminally insane. While a vampire..." He trailed off, realizing that further detail was unnecessary.

Spike's face was set in a grim expression. "Right, then. Buffy, I want you to stay here."

She turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of pity—anything that would suggest he believed her incapable of handling matters. Maybe she couldn't handle Kralik in her current condition, but Buffy hated to think that Spike thought of her as weak.

As if reading his mind, Spike lifted a scarred eyebrow and cocked his head. "You are recalling my job descriptions, aren't you? Doesn't make any sense for you to risk yourself when we're going to need you for a bigger battle up ahead." He looked from Buffy to Giles, his voice growing sharp. "You should have remembered that, Rupert, even if your bloody Council couldn't. What kind of help is a dead Slayer going to be?"

"I had a duty," Giles replied, but it was a weak excuse and he knew it.

"Bugger duty," Spike shot back rudely. "Sometimes you have to ask the questions. Duty and tradition are worth sod-all if they aren't what's right." He muttered a few more imprecations under his breath, striding off to a chest sitting in a corner of the living room.

Buffy watched as Spike shoved a few extra stakes into various pockets and grabbed a crossbow, tossing it to Giles. "Let's go, Rupert. You've got a mess to clean up."

The Slayer was a little surprised when Spike left without a backwards glance. Giles stayed still for a moment, appearing to want to say something to his Slayer, but unable to find the words that would heal the breach that had been created between them. In another moment, Giles was gone as well, leaving Buffy alone, waiting for someone else to take care of the problem.

It wasn't a role she was accustomed to playing. She wanted to be out taking care of this vampire herself. Buffy wanted to maintain the illusion, if not the reality, of strength. The idea that she suddenly wasn't capable of doing what she had been chosen to do was uncomfortable, to say the least.

That was why she was so angry with Giles. More than anything else, it was the fact that he had stripped her of her identity, of her power. It felt like rape in a way. Buffy was the Slayer, and now she wasn't.

Why on earth had she ever thought she wanted to be normal? One day as normal, and she couldn't wait to go back to being the Slayer.

Sitting around in Spike's—admittedly—comfortable townhouse wasn't doing her any good. Buffy wanted to be out solving her problem. As much as she appreciated Spike's help, and she did, she still wanted to be the one in charge.

She didn't like being taken care of. That was also a new revelation.

After half an hour, Buffy decided she couldn't wait any longer. She was the Slayer. Spike had been right about that. It was her job to make sure that Kralik couldn't kill anyone else, her responsibility to see to it that more innocents didn't suffer on her account. Maybe the Council had brought Kralik here, but in the end, she would be the reason that people died.

Unless she did something about it.

Buffy rummaged around in the same chest that Spike had gone through. It would have to be a stake, or something else that didn't require a lot of accuracy at a distance. She'd proven earlier with the throwing knives that she couldn't hit squat with the drug in her system.

The holy water and cross were also possibilities, but Buffy wasn't going to hold her breath. She would have to be sneaky, that was for certain. If she allowed him to get close, he would be able to kill her without breaking a sweat.

If vampires did sweat. Buffy decided she'd have to ask Spike about that when it was all over.

The Slayer decided that she'd start at that old boarding house on Prescott Lane. Giles had mentioned that the Council had been keeping Kralik there, and it was a possibility that he would return.

After that, she'd just have to try and pick up his trail.

~~~~~

Giles was finding the silence in Spike's car most uncomfortable. The vampire's face was set in an implacable expression, enforcing a distance that had never existed until now. He finally couldn't take the silence any longer. "Spike—"

"Don't. You betrayed her."

The Watcher swallowed hard. Spike's words brought the truth into sharp focus. His guilt threatened to eat him alive. "I had no choice."

"We always have a choice." Spike glanced over at him, his blue eyes flashing. "You were the person Buffy trusted the most, and you betrayed her."

"I answer to the Council!" Giles shot back, stung into taking the defensive. "I am not some rogue agent as you are."

Spike smiled grimly. "There's definitely something to be said for being a rogue agent."

Giles blanched, realizing that he was hardly helping his case. "Can you find this Kralik?"

"This isn't that big of a town, Rupert. I think I can manage." Spike's face grew even harder, his expression forbidding. "From what you've said, he'll try to find a nice warm body, and then he'll probably take it back to his lair to play with. If we don't run across him in another hour or so, we'll head back to the boarding house."

~~~~~

Buffy wondered if she was being unreasonable about this. The old boarding house loomed up in front of her, a forbidding structure she wouldn't have given another thought to entering a week ago. Now, its appearance was enough to make her think twice.

Of course, that still wasn't going to stop her.

Buffy took a tighter grip on her stake and slipped in the front door, trying to make as little noise as possible. The old floorboards creaked slightly under her weight, and she froze, listening for any sounds that might tell her that there was someone inside with her.

It was silent. Funny how that didn't make her feel any better.

She crept forward, keeping on the alert, her senses stretched out to the full. In spite of her efforts, the vampire seemed to come from out of nowhere. Buffy hit the floor, her stake flying out of nerveless fingers. The air rushed out of her lungs, and she reached for her weapon.

The vampire's hands were on her throat now, and he was squeezing. Buffy knew that she had to do something fast, so she gave up on the stake and reached for the cross in her pocket instead. She managed to shove the cross into his face, forcing him to loosen his grip. Once she had a little more room to wriggle, Buffy reached for another stake she'd hidden on a different part of her body. With a grunt of effort, Buffy shoved the stake through his heart, feeling the dust drift down around her.

Gasping and choking from the dust she'd gotten in her mouth, Buffy forced herself to her knees, then managed to stagger to her feet. She might have paused to savor her hard-won victory, but a voice cut through the silence of the house. "You came."

It came from behind, and Buffy whirled, nearly losing her balance in the process. The vampire grinned at her toothily. "You must be the Slayer," Kralik said. "I was told to expect you."

"I hate to disappoint," Buffy replied, knowing that it was a weak quip but unable to come up with anything else.

Kralik smiled pleasantly, his fangs showing. "I'm really looking forward to this, you know. I think your first meal should be your mother. You do have a mother don't you?"

"Not someone you're ever going to see," she hissed, backing up. Buffy needed to regroup, to figure out how she was going to deal with him.

"That's not very nice. I plan on getting to know you really well." The vampire took a step forward. "Don't you introduce all your friends to your mother?"

Buffy decided to take a chance and make a break for it. She ran for the stairs, letting out a very un-Slayer-like shriek when she felt him grab her. Kicking back, Buffy hit him in the face, scrambling up the stairs on all fours.

She was still trying to find a place to hide when she heard an inhuman sound. Whatever had happened, Kralik sounded like he was in pain, and Buffy didn't care.

Dashing from room to room, the Slayer looked for anything she could use, preferably to make a booby trap that would incapacitate Kralik for the few moments she would need to kill him. Her mind was racing too fast to form a coherent thought.

This was definitely a stupid idea. She could have stayed safe at Spike's place. She could have let him take care of Kralik; Buffy knew he would have. He'd have managed it. If there was anyone she could trust, it was Spike.

Buffy was here now, though, and so she had to see it through.

She heard another howl. There had to be something she could do.

An idea occurred to her, and Buffy headed for the closet in the nearest room. As she had hoped, the clothes rod in the closet was wooden, and she pulled it out easily. The fittings were old and loose, which meant even with normal strength, Buffy could manage.

Buffy couldn't do anything about sharpening one of the ends, however. She would just have to hope that she could work up enough momentum to force the wood through Kralik's heart.

Too bad there wasn't enough time for that.

Buffy whirled, holding out the rod in front of her like a pike. "Where is my medicine?" Kralik demanded.

She stood frozen, unsure of whether she should try to rush him or wait for the vampire to come to her. Buffy didn't have to wait long. Kralik took another couple steps into the room, his face contorted in pain. "Where are my pills? What have you done with them?"

Suddenly he was hurtling towards her, and Buffy didn't have time to do anything except hold the rod out in front of her, watching in disbelief as Kralik impaled himself.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

Spike stood in the doorway, and Buffy realized that he had pushed the other vampire towards her. If Kralik had been controlling his own motion, he never would have staked himself. "Spike."

"Well?" he demanded again. "Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

Buffy conveniently forgot that she'd been thinking the very same thing just a few moments ago. "You don't have any right to give me orders, Spike! I'm the Slayer, and this was my responsibility."

"And mine is keeping you alive!" Spike snapped. "How the hell do you expect me to do that when you're running straight into danger?"

She set her chin stubbornly. "I told you. This is my job, and I don't need you to do it for me. If you can't handle that, then maybe you should just leave."

Anger and relief had always caused Spike's mouth to disconnect from his brain. "Maybe I should."

With that, Spike whirled, stalking out of the room and leaving Giles behind in the hallway. Buffy met her Watcher's eyes. He moved towards her slowly, reaching out to brush her hair out of the cut on her forehead that the first vampire had caused when he tackled her. "We should get that cleaned up."

Buffy stared at him. She didn't trust him, not now. At the same time, however, Giles hadn't been obligated to tell her. He could have stuck to the Council's mandate, and he didn't have to go after Kralik.

That counted for something.

"Okay," she replied, too numb to do anything else.

Buffy would think about Spike's words tomorrow.

Chapter 22

"How like a winter hath my absence been/From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!/ What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!/What old December's barrenness everywhere!...For summer's pleasures wait on thee,/And, thou away, the very birds are mute..." ~William Shakespeare, Sonnet 97

Giles couldn't say he was all that surprised when Joyce came knocking on his door. In fact, he was more surprised that it had taken her so long to come. It had been four days since the Cruciamentum, four days since he'd been fired from the Council.

Four days since he'd spoken to her at all.

He had prepared himself for this. "Come in."

Joyce remained silent as she entered his apartment, looking around at the darkened interior. Giles appeared to have had more than a few sleepless nights, and she couldn't profess to be sorry about that. She wasn't particularly happy with him right now.

Of course, Joyce had tried to burn her daughter at the stake not too long ago, so she wasn't inclined to throw stones either.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Sure." Joyce watched as he went into the kitchen, carefully avoiding meeting her eyes. "How have you been?"

Giles chuckled bitterly. "About as you would expect." He paused. "I'm so very sorry."

"I know you are." Joyce sat down, her tone almost conversational. "Buffy told me you'd been fired from the Council."

He sighed. "I was. I will retain my position with the library, of course, so I'm not out of work at least."

"Buffy also told me that you didn't have a choice."

"Spike would disagree with that."

"Spike would probably be right," Joyce replied. "I know you don't want to see Buffy hurt, though, so I can only assume that you felt you were acting in her best interests."

Giles only wished that was the case. "No, I wasn't." He felt the need to be completely honest, even though he would rather have avoided it. "I obeyed the order from the Council because this is the way things have been done for centuries. There's really no other reason than that. Had I truly considered the cost of my actions, I would have refused outright."

Joyce leaned back. "You don't regret being fired?"

"Of course I regret being fired," Giles said irritably. "I regret that the Council is populated with useless gits who seem to know nothing about what being a Slayer—or being a Watcher—really means."

She nodded, satisfied. "That's what I wanted to hear."

Giles set the tea tray down hard on the table, the warm affection in her tone startling him enough to cause him to nearly lose control of it. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that just because you made one stupid decision, I'm not going to give up on one of the best things to happen to me in years." Joyce grew serious again. "But if you ever pull something like this again..."

She left the rest of the threat unspoken, but Giles really didn't need her to finish it. The look of betrayal on Buffy's face had been enough to discourage any similar actions in the future. The guilt was still nearly overwhelming. "I understand."

Joyce smiled. "Good. As long as we understand each other."

The expression on her face left no doubt in Giles' mind that crossing her would be a very bad idea. Joyce could be very scary when she wanted to be.

~~~~~

Xander wandered into the Bronze feeling aimless. Everyone had somewhere to be tonight, or someone to be with. Willow was with Oz, Faith and Buffy were out patrolling, and he was feeling rather useless.

They all had their place within the group, except for him.

He paused, catching sight of a familiar bleach-blond head through the crows. Maybe he wasn't the only one without somewhere to be.

Without thinking about why, Xander made his way through the mass of bodies to join Spike at the bar. "What's up?" Spike held up his beer bottle in a silent response. "So how come you aren't out with the Slayers?"

"They don't need me tonight," Spike responded. If Xander didn't know better, he would have said that Spike was depressed. "I'm just the hired muscle, after all."

Xander blinked. "What? No, you're part of the team, Spike." He sat down next to the vampire. "And trust me, I never thought I'd be saying that about a member of the undead."

Spike shrugged, visibly trying to shake off his bad mood. "So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out with the girls?"

"What girls?" Xander asked. "Buffy basically told me I'd be in the way, and Willow definitely doesn't need me around her and Oz." He hesitated, finally blurting out, "I'm sorry about the spell. You know, the hand and the pants, and I am really sorry."

Up to that point, Spike had assumed that Xander wanted to forget about the spell and its effects as much as he did. Spike certainly wanted nothing more than to forget the whole mess. "Forget it."

Xander, sensing his sincerity, breathed a sigh of relief. "Already done."

They sat in a silence that wasn't completely comfortable. Of course, it wasn't entirely uncomfortable either. "You want to play a round of pool?"

Xander glanced over in surprise and then nodded, relieved to finally have something to do, even if it was playing pool with the undead.

Although, Xander thought he might actually end up liking Spike. He really wasn't so bad for a vampire.

Spike allowed the boy to break. When his turn came up almost immediately, he quickly sank three in a row before deliberately missing a shot. Beating Xander at pool was a lot like taking candy from a baby. He might as well make it worth his time.

"So what's up between you and Buffy?" Xander finally asked.

Spike frowned. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You guys were almost inseparable," he pointed out. "And you haven't been around the last few days."

"Slayer doesn't need me right now," Spike muttered. "I'm still around." He leaned back against one of the supports, watching as Xander took his shot. "What are you doing here by yourself?"

Xander flushed. "If you haven't noticed, Cordelia still hates me, which means I have nowhere better to be tonight." He straightened, fidgeting with his pool cue. "How do you do it?"

"How do I do what?" Spike asked impatiently.

"It's just that everyone has something," Xander explained. He had no idea why he was telling Spike this, other than the fact that the both of them were at the Bronze alone. "Buffy and Faith are both Slayers, Giles has all that knowledge, Willow's got her magic. Everyone has something except for me."

Spike shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. He knew what it was like to feel as though you had nothing to offer the rest of the world. Those weren't memories he particularly cherished. Of course, Spike couldn't say he cherished many memories at all.

"You make the best of what you have. Not much more you can do."

"But—"

Spike interrupted him impatiently. "Look, you've got guts, Harris. Not many people would go out night after night like you do, trying to help. So take what you've got and be happy with it."

Xander appeared unhappy that there was nothing more to it than that. "Isn't there anything I can do to be..."

"What? Cool?" Spike rolled his eyes. "It's all about figuring out who you are and what you want, mate. You figure that out, and everyone else will fall into step as well."

Xander shook his head. "That's easier said than done."

"You're telling me," Spike muttered, too low for the boy to hear. It was always easier said than done.

~~~~~

The truth was that Spike hadn't seen much of Buffy since her birthday. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, it was that he refused to go to her. Spike wanted the Slayer to come to him.

He'd told her to stay put. Spike had wanted to make sure she was okay—and she took his help and threw it back in his teeth. Buffy had been very clear about not needing him. He was equally certain that she did need him, but he suspected that she would be happy to never see him again.

Well, Spike wasn't having any of that. He'd had enough of being Love's Bitch with Cecily and Drusilla. He would make sure Buffy lived through the apocalypse, but other than that he had no interest in the Slayer.

But if that was true, then why did his heart ache so badly?

Spike was just a little drunk when he unlocked his door. It wasn't like he was trying to drown his sorrows—it was more that he needed the distance that the numbness of intoxication brought.

Distance from his current situation, distance from his memories, it was all the same.

"You don't look real steady on your feet," Faith said, coming up behind him.

Spike tried to turn quickly to face her, but his balance was just a little bit off. "Bugger off."

"I would except that I'm sleeping here," Faith replied, following him into the kitchen. She and Buffy had managed to get in quite a few kills, and she was feeling hungry and horny.

Faith knew exactly why Spike had been drinking. It was probably for the same reason that Buffy had been bitching on patrol. The other Slayer had gone on and on about how bossy and demanding Spike could be, about how he hadn't come around, about how he was never around when you needed him and how he stuck his nose in where he wasn't wanted.

Even Faith could see the contradiction in that complaint.

Of course, Buffy's loss could definitely end up being her gain.

She kept an eye on him while peering into the fridge. "So what's your problem?"

"None of your business," was Spike's rather surly answer.

Faith gave up on the fridge and started going through the cupboard. She could have sworn she had a package of microwave popcorn somewhere. "Maybe you'll feel better if you get it off your chest."

Spike snorted. "No thanks. I'm not in a sharing mood."

Faith bit back a sigh as she realized that she'd eaten the last bag the other night. Good thing there were other hungers she could satisfy. "Maybe you could try something else then."

"What's that?" Spike asked.

She'd always found that the direct approach worked for her. Faith straddled his lap before he realized what she was doing. "Maybe I can take your mind off of things." Her lips came down on his immediately. Faith figured that if she didn't give him a chance to think about it—just to react—they might both get lucky.

It had been a long time. Too long, in fact. Spike couldn't help his immediate reaction, which was to deepen the kiss and pull the Slayer closer. Faith was grinding against him, and his jeans were getting uncomfortable.

The heady feeling of warmth, of being touched for the first time in a long time, of having a warm, willing girl in his arms—it went straight to Spike's head. Mix that with the alcohol, and it was understandable that it would take a while for sense to penetrate.

Spike managed to push Faith off of him, stumbling to his own feet, just before they reached the point of no return. "We can't do this."

"What are you talking about?" Faith was pissed as hell that Spike had called a halt to things. "That was good. You can't tell me you weren't enjoying yourself."

He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Not the point," he responded. "I told you I wasn't going to do this with you."

"Is this about Buffy?" Faith demanded. "She totally ditched you!"

Spike growled, knowing that this situation was partly his fault. He'd invited Faith to live at his place thinking he could keep things platonic, even knowing that she would most likely make a move. He should have pushed her away immediately, rather than letting it get as far as he had.

They were both keyed up now, and Faith wasn't going to come back down anytime soon. "It's not about Buffy," he insisted.

"Yeah, well, that's not what it looks like to me," Faith hissed. "So Buffy gets you too, huh?"

"I never made any secret about the reason I came to Sunnydale!" Spike responded, his voice growing louder. "I was hired for a purpose."

"And that's all you are," she replied. "Just the hired muscle. You think you found a place here? You're expendable. You're the vampire mercenary. They'll get rid of you in a heartbeat if that's what it takes."

It took every ounce of Spike's hard-won control to keep from attacking her—and to keep from showing his hurt. Faith was hitting every raw nerve he had. Instead of snapping her neck like he wanted, Spike turned and stalked down the hall to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Once inside, he took several deep, unneeded breaths, knowing that he needed to calm down. Spike could hear some shuffling and then the slamming of the front door. He had a feeling that Faith had left, and it was unlikely that she'd be coming back.

"Good going, mate," he muttered, suddenly angry with himself. "You've really bollixed up this situation."

It was too close to dawn to go hunting. Spike wanted to do some damage, and it just wasn't possible, not unless he wanted to destroy his own place.

He was better than that.

Spike would take a cold shower and try to sleep. It was too much to hope for that the lingering alcohol in his system would have a soporific effect. He was pretty much sober at this point, more was the pity.

Although, he did have a bottle of Jack in the cupboard.

~~~~~

Giles had been very firm in his instructions. Buffy was to go over to Spike's house, inform him that they needed his help, and drag him back over to the school if necessary. "This is a serious matter, Buffy. If we do not have Spike's help, there's every possibility that we will not be able to stop this apocalypse."

As she stood in front of Spike's door, Buffy thought that she probably should have made Giles go. He was still feeling guilty enough over the Cruciamentum for blackmail to work.

It was mostly her own sense of guilt that made her want to avoid the vampire. Buffy knew she'd been pretty harsh with him. Spike had been doing his job, and she had lashed out because of her own pain. It had been Giles and the Council she was angry at, not Spike.

Of course, that didn't mean she wanted to apologize.

Buffy finally took a deep breath and knocked on his door. She waited, frowning when she realized that no one was going to answer. Pounding a little harder, Buffy wondered if something had happened to him. It had been a few days since she'd seen the vampire. What if someone had come after him?

What if he was dust?

She was about ready to start pounding for a third time, a little more frantically, when the door swung open to reveal a bleary-eyed Spike. "What do you want?"

"I came to see you," Buffy replied, her eyes narrowing. "Are you drunk?"

He shrugged. "I was. Think I'm sober now, though."

Buffy frowned. "Where's Faith?"

"How the bloody hell should I know?" Spike demanded. "She left last night. Doubt she'll be back anytime soon." He hadn't moved out of the doorway, standing just far enough back to avoid the late afternoon sun. "So what do you want? More heavy lifting?"

"There's an apocalypse coming," Buffy replied, unsure of herself. She had never seen Spike this hostile before. Angry, yes. Sarcastic, of course. But she was getting the sense that he would have just as soon never seen her again.

After his gift, she found that strange.

Spike stared at her and then sighed. "Fine. I'll be at the library tonight."

He would have shut the door in her face, but Buffy was faster. She got her foot in the doorway, preventing him from closing it. "What is up with you?"

"It's none of your bloody business," he snarled. "So sod off."

Anger reared its ugly head. Buffy shoved the door in, causing Spike to stumble backwards. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Bugger off, Summers!" Spike shouted. "You're not wanted here."

Buffy pushed him back into the living room, although not hard enough to hurt him. She did, however, want him cornered. "Is this about the other night? Because I'm sorry, Spike. I said some things I didn't mean."

"Don't give me that," Spike shot back. "Don't you dare throw me a bone like I'm some stray dog. You think I'm here for you? Well, I've got a nice, fat bank account and a fast car in the garage that proves otherwise. Soon as the apocalypse is over, I'm out of here! I'm not Love's Bitch any longer."

It was that last, seemingly unrelated, comment that clued Buffy in to what this was all really about. Her own words echoed in her head—she'd told Spike she didn't need him after he'd promised to be there for her. Really, it was no wonder he was so royally pissed off.

"Okay, I'm only going to say this once, and so you'll just have to listen up," Buffy said, pushing him back on the couch so that she was standing over him. "I'm sorry for what I said. It wasn't nice, and I didn't mean it, and I do need you. And not just for backup. So if you'll pull your head out of your ass, maybe you'll actually hear what I'm saying."

Spike didn't want to. He didn't want to listen to Buffy's apology. He really, really wanted to stay angry. It was easier to not hurt when you were angry. "Fine," he replied sullenly.

Buffy was mad enough to spit. She thought about popping him in the nose, but didn't think that would do much good under the circumstances. "Fine. Go shower, and then we'll head back to the school. The sun should be down by then."

She stepped away to allow Spike to rise and then abruptly changed her mind. "You know what? Forget it." Buffy grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "You are the most infuriating—guy!"

"Maybe if you weren't such a bitch," Spike snarked back.

Buffy's eyes widened. "You—you—jerk!"

And then, of course, she kissed him.

Chapter 23

"Come with me, I said, and no one knew/where, or how my pain throbbed,/no carnations or bacaroles for me,/only a wound that love had opened...That is why, when I heard your voice repeat/Come with me, it was as if you had let loose/the grief, the love, the fury of a cork-trapped wine/that geysers flooding from deep in its vault:/in my mouth I felt the taste of fire again,/of blood and carnations, of rock and scald." ~Pablo Neruda, Sonnet VII

The Slayer had never been so uncomfortable in her entire life. She still wasn't sure what she'd been thinking. Buffy had managed to stutter out an apology right before Spike turned and practically ran out of the room.

She'd kissed him. She had kissed Spike. And she'd enjoyed it.

The vampire's reaction was less than encouraging, however, and Buffy got the vibe that Spike didn't really like her. That left her waiting for him in his living room, having made a complete and utter fool out of herself.

Buffy had never wanted the floor to open up and swallow her more than at that moment.

"Maybe I'll get lucky," she muttered. "Maybe this apocalypse will actually end the world."

"What's that, pet?"

Spike's voice came from right behind her, causing Buffy to jump and emit a muffled shriek. "Don't do that!"

Her scare broke the ice like nothing else would have. "Do what?"

"Sneak up on me!" Buffy glared on him, suddenly back on solid ground. "Warn a person next time."

"I thought you were the Slayer," Spike teased. The banter was as comfortable to slip into as his old boots. "You should know when a vampire's behind you."

"I think we've had this conversation," Buffy shot back. "I knew you were close, I just didn't..." She trailed off, staring at him. "Look, I—"

"Forget it."

Hurt flashed across her face. "If that's what you want."

"Isn't that what you were going to say?" Spike asked.

Buffy glared at him, angry again. "How would you know? You didn't let me finish!"

"Then finish."

"Fine. Forget it." Buffy stomped out of the house. She'd been up and down so many times during the last half hour her head was spinning. Obviously, there was no dealing with Spike right now. Or ever.

In fact, never sounded like a really good option.

"Buffy!"

She picked up the pace, knowing that Spike would have to follow her back to the library, but she thought if she walked fast enough, they wouldn't be able to have a conversation. "Summers!" Spike grabbed her arm and physically pulled her to a stop. "We could drive over there, you know, since you're in such a hurry."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. Apparently, Spike had no clue why she was practically running. "Whatever."

They turned to go back to his house to get the car, but Spike stopped, standing perfectly still in the middle of the sidewalk. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You know what."

"Pretend I'm stupid and spell it out for me." Buffy crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited.

"The kiss," Spike finally said. "Tell me what that was about." When she was silent, he added, "Tell me it wasn't nothing."

Buffy went still. "What are you saying?"

"No, I told you," Spike shot back. "I went out on a limb. It's your turn, Slayer."

"It wasn't nothing."

The whole world could have stopped spinning right then and neither would have noticed. They were at a standstill, since no one was ready to take the first step. "Then what was it?" Spike asked.

It cost him something to utter those words. It felt like he had re-opened a wound that had closed up but had never healed.

This whole exercise in futility was costing Spike more than he'd ever thought to pay again. Spike had sworn that he was done with this sort of thing, done with love and the way it messed with his head. Done being Love's Bitch.

Well, he was done with that part, but it seemed that he was born to love.

Spike was just scared to death that he'd been born to love the wrong woman.

"I don't know," Buffy confessed, and then she watched as Spike's face hardened and he slipped behind his mask once more. "It was good."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "It was that."

There was another long pause. "I think I like you."

Spike felt like a boy again, only this was better. At least this time he could be fairly sure that the girl didn't think he was beneath her. "Same goes for me."

"Okay," Buffy said, breathing a sigh of relief. Spike apparently didn't find her completely repulsive. "So...okay. What now?"

Spike swallowed. "Apocalypse?"

"Yeah, that." Buffy started to smile, but it just as quickly faded. "That's all you have to stay for, isn't it?"

Spike shrugged. "Dunno. How many apocalypses have you had around here?"

Buffy paused to think about it. "Three, I guess. Why?"

"Then maybe this isn't the big one," Spike offered. "Whistler told me I was supposed to keep you alive for the big ending of the world, but maybe this isn't the one he meant. There could be another one coming."

Buffy winced slightly. "There could be."

"So maybe it's a good idea that I stick around for a while after, just to make sure this is it."

"And if this is it?"

Spike hesitated before answering, wondering what he was getting himself into. "You can never be too sure about that sort of thing, can you?"

~~~~~

Willow knew something was going on. First Buffy and Spike were getting really friendly, then they were fighting, and now they were acting like—

Well, like a couple of teenagers who liked each other and knew they liked each other and were trying not to let on to it. Of course, as Buffy's best friend, Willow had the ability to read minds occasionally, and Buffy wasn't that hard to read.

Now that she'd gotten to know him, neither was Spike, for that matter.

Giles was going over how they were going to stop the apocalypse, but Willow had both heard and understood the first time. She was feeling a little forlorn since Oz had band practice and wouldn't be able to make it to the apocalypse anyway. The night before the full moon was the next day, and so there was no way he'd be able to help.

While Giles explained to Spike how the Sisterhood of Jhe planned on opening up the Hellmouth, Willow leaned over to Buffy and whispered, "So what's up with you and Spike?"

Buffy's eyes widened for a split second before she donned her innocent face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, well, I'm talking about the end of the world, and unless you pay attention..." Giles trailed off, glaring at the two of them and looking back over at Spike. "So you will help?"

"No, I'm planning on letting you lot die horribly," Spike replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Giles glanced at Faith. "You'll be around?"

"It's part of the calling," she replied airily.

Willow noticed that if Buffy and Spike had been acting like teenagers in love—or at least in like, Faith and Spike had been studiously ignoring one another. "Very well," Giles said, breaking into Willow's thoughts. "I think it's best to get started."

Faith stood abruptly. "You know I'm not good at that kind of thing. Give me a call when you need me."

She walked out of the library, and Giles frowned, glancing at Spike. "Do you—"

"No idea what gets into that girl," Spike replied, not allowing Giles to finish his question. "Let's keep going, yeah?"

Giles seemed to take his disclaimer at face value, and they kept going, researching until the wee hours of the morning. Willow tried to corner Buffy before she left, but Spike offered to give them both a ride home, and he ended up dropping Willow off first.

Then, of course, they had to hunt down members of the Sisterhood of Jhe, and keep the Hellmouth from opening, and there really wasn't time to talk about anything. What Willow did notice was Buffy's reaction when the monster coming out of the Hellmouth nearly took Spike with it when they forced it back down.

Willow didn't think she'd ever seen Buffy move that fast.

So it was the day after they managed to close the Hellmouth before Willow got a chance to talk to her. She basically invited herself over to Buffy's house and cornered the Slayer in her bedroom. "What is going on, Buffy?"

Buffy tried to give Willow her innocent face again, but her innocent look was no match for Willow's resolve face. "You absolutely have to swear not to tell anyone."

Willow held up a hand in a mock-Girl Scout salute. "I swear."

"I kissed Spike."

If Buffy was expecting Willow to be shocked, she was sorely disappointed. Willow broke out into a broad grin. "It's about time! How was it?"

Buffy frowned. "You're not mad?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Buffy, you and Spike have been fighting for months now. There was all this UST floating around. It was obvious."

"Obvious to you, maybe," Buffy muttered. "What am I going to do, Willow?"

The witch frowned. "What do you mean? Aren't you going to kiss him again?"

"No!" Buffy said immediately, then stopped. "I don't know. We haven't really talked about it."

Willow pursed her lips. "Okay," she said slowly. "Do you want to kiss him again?"

"Yes." There was a definite whine in the Slayer's voice. "But he's a vampire!"

Willow shrugged. "But Spike's not Angel, Buffy. You know he's not going to lose his soul. He told you he got it anchored. So it's no worse than you dating Angel before we knew he was going to lose his soul, and everybody pretty much dealt with that."

It was a completely logical argument, but Buffy wasn't quite ready for logic. She was still wallowing in doubt. "What if something happens and he does lose his soul?" Buffy asked. "And I don't even know if he really likes me all that much. What if he doesn't like me?"

Willow gave her a look that was designed to let her know just how stupid Buffy was being. "Uh, Buffy? I have eyes. Spike likes you."

"What's Giles going to say?" Buffy asked. "Or Xander? Or my mom?"

Her brow furrowing, Willow gave Buffy a hard look. "Buffy, are you really worried about what they're going to think, or are you trying to find an excuse about why this thing between you and Spike won't work?"

She knew she'd hit the nail on the head when Buffy winced. "I swore I was never going to fall for another vampire, Wills," Buffy said softly. "I can't—I can't do this again. I mean, Spike and I are friends, and if something happened, it would be bad. If we take this to the next level, and the worst happened, I don't think I could bear it."

Willow put a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "Buffy, I think maybe you're already at the next level."

~~~~~

"Are you sure about this?" Giles asked in between kisses.

Joyce gasped as his thumb brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. "Buffy's out. We've got some time."

"This may take more than 'some time,'" he replied.

Joyce was sitting on the kitchen counter, her legs wrapped around Giles' waist. She had been making tea for the two of them, and then Giles decided he didn't want tea.

Joyce didn't mind a bit.

Still, their trysts at her house were just a trifle dangerous. She remembered all too well how Buffy had discovered her relationship with Ted. Even if Giles wasn't an evil robot, this definitely wasn't how Buffy needed to find out.

Actually, Joyce was still kind of hoping that she could put it off until after Buffy went off to college.

"We can make it quick," she said hopefully. "Quick is fine." A sultry smile tilted up her lips. "I could come over to your place after I get off work tomorrow night."

"Not a bad plan," Giles agreed, beginning to unbutton her blouse.

Joyce's next gasp sounded more surprised than happy, and he glanced up to see shock and embarrassment on her face. Giles spun around to see Spike standing in the doorway, looking completely mortified. "Oh, bloody hell," both men said at the same time.

"Sorry," Spike said, quickly beginning to back out the kitchen door. "I saw the lights, and—sorry."

"No, wait, Spike," Joyce said, quickly buttoning her blouse. "Don't feel like you have to run off."

Spike lifted an eyebrow, his expression sardonic. "Rather feel like I'm interrupting something a bit more important than a chat."

"I thought you were out with Buffy," Giles said, straightening his own clothing. He wasn't happy about the interruption, but the mood had been effectively killed. From the look on Joyce's face, Giles had thought that it was Buffy coming in for a moment. The idea of her walking in on the two of them—not exactly conducive to romance.

Spike gave a quick shake of his head. "No, she's with Faith tonight."

The truth was that ever since that kiss, he and Buffy hadn't been particularly comfortable in one another's company. Spike would have loved to revisit the conversation, but there was never a good time.

Besides, he was a bit worried about what was going to happen when Joyce and Giles found out. Spike hated to think that they'd end up disliking him.

Giles frowned. "You didn't go with them?"

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "They didn't need me."

Joyce got down off the counter. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spike shook his head. "No, I should go. I interrupted you, and—"

She stopped him by putting a hand on his arm, giving Giles a pointed look. "Rupert was just leaving."

It was a blatant lie, but Giles decided to take the hint. Besides, he really had planned on taking a lot longer, and it was too risky to engage in those sorts of activities where Buffy could walk in at any moment. "I'll see you soon, Spike."

"Yeah, sure," Spike replied, obviously distracted.

Once the front door had shut behind Giles, Joyce showed Spike into the living room. "Now, what's wrong?"

"I think I might have made a mistake," Spike admitted in a low voice.

Joyce grew still at his somber tone. "What kind of a mistake?"

Slowly, Spike told her about what had transpired between him and Faith, and then, with a lot of false starts admitted, "Didn't shove her off just because it didn't seem right."

"Is this about Buffy?" Joyce asked.

Spike gave her look that was half-grateful, half-nervous. "Look, Joyce, I haven't done this in over a century. Never got a chance to properly court a girl, and I know Buffy's young. Probably too young, but—"

"Oh, William," Joyce sighed. "You're in love with her." He didn't seem old to her; Spike never really had. He might be slightly more mature than her daughter, but in some ways Spike had always seemed very boyish.

Perhaps it was the vulnerability in his eyes.

Spike fiddled with a button on his jacket, his hand twitching towards his jacket pocket where his cigarettes were. "Dunno."

"William." This time it was just a little sharper, in the tone that she used to get Buffy to tell the truth. Not that it always worked.

"Yeah." It was nearly a whisper. "Guess I am."

Joyce nodded. She wasn't going to kid herself. A vampire did not make for a good boyfriend, even if that vampire was Spike. She was also very well aware that Buffy was only eighteen, and the guy she liked this week wasn't necessarily going to be the guy she liked the next.

On the other hand, Joyce was knew that Spike's feelings were probably of the more permanent variety.

She took a deep breath. "Well, if you're waiting for me to be angry about it, you'll be waiting for a long time."

The relief that washed over Spike's face was the only reassurance that Joyce really needed. Spike's respect for her was obvious, and it was unlikely that he'd do anything to hurt Buffy, not when he wanted to stay in her good graces. "I'm not going to hurt her," he said earnestly a moment later. "I wanted you to know that."

Joyce noticed that Spike wasn't offering to keep his distance, but that was only fair. Buffy was eighteen and the Slayer. She was capable of making her own decisions, no matter how badly Joyce wanted to protect her.

And if she had to choose, Joyce was just grateful that it was Spike and not Angel.

"I do know that." Joyce leaned back into the couch. "What are you going to do about Faith?"

"Dunno," Spike said. He shook his head. "I never—it was stupid of me. I thought I could help, but..."

"You did your best," Joyce said. "That's all anyone can ask for, sweetheart. Faith has to make her own choices."

Spike was quiet for a long moment. "I'm a bit worried about those choices. Might not be very pretty."

Joyce thought about the other Slayer, about the lostness of her, and couldn't disagree. "Well, if she needs help, we'll just have to be there."

~~~~~

Faith had been acting strangely towards her all night. Buffy couldn't figure out what the other Slayer's problem was. Finally, she asked. "Okay, Faith. What's the what?"

"What are you talking about?" Faith asked, shrugging the question off.

Buffy glared at the other girl. "You've been acting weird all night."

"Have you slept with Spike?"

The question came out of the blue, surprising Buffy into answering immediately. "What? No!"

"So you don't want to?" Faith asked.

It was not Buffy's turn to be on the defensive. "No, of course not." At Faith's skeptical expression, she reiterated. "I don't want to sleep with Spike."

"Because he sure wants to jump your bones," Faith said.

Buffy's eyes widened. "He told you that?"

"I can tell," Faith said, her tone secretive. "Guy doesn't even respond when another woman looks at him." Her lips twisted into a smirk. "Looks like you got another vampire hot for you, B. I guess you don't really need to slay 'em anymore."

Buffy nearly snarled. "How Spike feels isn't my problem."

"It's gonna be," Faith replied. "He'll start panting at your heels, and then what are you gonna do when he goes bad, just like everyone else does? Want some advice? Screw him and leave him before he can do the same to you."

Buffy took a step back, her face screwing up in distaste. "What is up with you?" Something clicked. "You—he turned you down, didn't he?"

"What?" Faith scoffed. "More like I turned him down when he found out you weren't going to be receptive."

Buffy might have said more, but a leather-clad vampire came sailing out of the darkness at her. Not a minute later, they were surrounded. Typically, she and Faith indulged in the same kind of banter that she and Spike did while fighting, but tonight they fought silently.

The anger that lay between them lent their moves a force that wasn't usually there. The vampires were better fighters than the typical bloodsuckers, and one was using a sword and dagger instead of fists and fangs. When the last one was dust, Buffy turned around, looking for the weapons she knew one of them had dropped. "Where's the sword and dagger?"

"How should I know?" Faith asked, walking off into the night.

Buffy let her go, taking a deep breath. She needed to tell Giles about these vampires, and she needed to talk to Spike.

And not necessarily in that order.

~~~~~

"Interesting," Mayor Wilkins commented as he looked at the weapons. "I haven't seen weapons like these in a good long while."

Trick put the sword and dagger down on the Mayor's desk. "Are you expecting company?"

"From these folks?" the Mayor asked in surprise. "Heavens, no! I run a clean town here, Mr. Trick." He shook his head. "Do you know where the owner is now?"

"Dust in the wind," Trick replied. "Those Slayers handled it."

The Mayor nodded slowly. "Those girls are always sticking their noses in where they don't belong, you know? Of course, as long as they're kept busy with this new group, that's quite alright with me. The dedication is coming up, and I can't afford to have any slip-ups right now."

"Maybe we should postpone the dedication?" Allan, the deputy Mayor, suggested timidly.

Mayor Wilkins fixed him with a look that Trick had no problem interpreting. "I think the Mayor hates that idea."

The Mayor shrugged it off. "Keep me updated, Mr. Trick. This situation might work out to our advantage yet." He paused in thought. "What about Spike? What is he up to these days?"

An emotion flashed across Trick's face that might almost have been fear. "He's sticking close to the Slayer. Mostly the blonde one."

"Is that right?" Mayor Wilkins nodded. "Ah, the follies of youth. Well, let's keep an eye on him as well. He's proved to be a bit more durable than I predicted. I'll need to start thinking about taking steps when the time comes."

The Mayor smiled coldly. "And the time is certainly coming."

Chapter 24        

"Life! Austere arbiter of each man's fate,/By whom he learns that Nature's steadfast laws/Are as decrees immutable; O pause/Your even forward march! Not yet too late/Teach me the needed lesson, when to wait/Inactive as a ship when no wind draws/To stretch the loosened cordage. One implores/Thy clemency, whose wilfulness innate/Has gone uncurbed and roughshod while the years/Have lengthened into decades; now distressed/He knows no rule by which to move or stay,/And teased with restlessness and desperate fears/He dares not watch in silence thy wise way/Bringing about results none could have guessed." ~Amy Lowell, "Before Dawn"

Xander was dying to tell someone the story, but it couldn't be just anyone. Willow wouldn't understand. She was too caught up in her early application packets. Buffy was busy with Slayer stuff. Giles would just roll his eyes and tune him out.

Oz would probably listen, but Xander had a hard time reading the other boy. He wanted someone who would actually react to what he was saying.

He really wished there was someone he could talk to about the thing with Faith. That had just been weird.

That might have been why he felt some sense of relief when he saw Spike coming down the hallway. "Spike! What are you doing here? It's early."

Spike shrugged. "I was out last night and saw something that worried me a bit. Took the tunnels to get here." The vampire suddenly grinned. "Sun isn't so scary if you have a few tricks up your sleeve."

"Well, if you're looking for Buffy, I think she's in the library. Last I heard, she was complaining to Giles about the new Watcher."

Spike frowned. "There's a new Watcher?"

"Yeah, Giles got fired over that test thing." Xander fell into step next to Spike.

"Oh, right. Forgot about that." Spike gave Xander an inquisitive look. "What's up with you, mate? You look like you've got ants in your pants."

Xander hesitated, and then he burst out, "I kept the school from getting blown up."

"You what?"

The story wasn't nearly as coherent as Xander wanted it to be, and he was worried that he sounded more like a spaz than a hero, but Spike simply nodded. "Said you had guts, didn't I?" At Xander's slightly disappointed expression, the vampire raised an eyebrow. "You were looking for something else?"

"Nothing's changed," Xander said. "Cordelia—"

"Do us all a favor and forget about her," Spike said. "She's going to be pissed off at you until the day she dies, and she's going to try and make your life a living hell. Best if you ignore her as much as possible."

Xander sighed. That was basically what both Buffy and Willow had been telling him, but he'd wanted another solution, something a little quicker. "Yeah, I guess."

"So you've seen this new Watcher?"

Xander laughed. "He's no Giles."

Spike got to see how right Xander was for himself. The new Watcher had returned to the library in Xander's absence. The vampire couldn't help but be reminded of a certain stiff young man who had died over a century ago.

Of course, while he might be able to sympathize that didn't mean he was going to make it easy on the prat. "What have we here?"

"New Watcher," Buffy said, sitting at the table, her chin propped in her hand. She perked up. "Want to come amulet-hunting with me tonight?"

"And who is this?" Wesley demanded. "Does everyone know your identity, Miss Summers?"

"I'm hardly 'everyone,'" Spike drawled, looking the other man up and down with apparent disdain. "Name's William the Bloody, or Spike if you prefer."

Wesley's eyes widened. "But—but—you—" He turned to stare at Giles. "He's not supposed to exist!"

Spike smirked, his face shifting as he grabbed Wesley by the lapels and pulled him in close. "I don't, strictly speaking." He grinned toothily, thinking that the younger Watcher looked as though he was about to wet himself. Spike pushed him back. "Can't believe they'd send you to the Hellmouth."

Wesley drew himself up importantly. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly qualified!"

Both Spike and Buffy burst out laughing at the same time. "Right," Spike said slowly, his now-blue eyes sparkling with barely-contained laughter.

Wesley straightened his suitcoat, turning to Giles. "Do you mean to tell me that you have allowed a vampire to work with the Slayer?"

"Apparently the Powers That Be asked Spike to protect Buffy," Giles replied mildly. His eyes met Spike's, and they shared a moment's understanding. "Really, Wesley, I had expected you to understand that sometimes one needs to improvise in the field."

Wesley frowned, thrown off slightly by his total lack of fieldwork. "Oh, ah, yes. Improvisation and flexibility are key elements in the Slayer's arsenal. Remember that, Buffy."

"Whatever," Buffy said, bored. She perked up a moment later as Willow came through the library doors. "Willow! Ready to teach me some chemistry?"

Willow's eyes widened. She didn't think she had ever seen Buffy this excited to study anything before. "Uh, sure?"

Wesley cleared his throat. "Buffy—"

"It's not dark yet, and I have a chemistry test tomorrow," Buffy said, interrupting him. "Why don't you grill Spike for a while? Then we'll both go to retrieve the amulet."

She paused to give Spike an apologetic look then turned and dragged Willow out of the library. The vampire simply raised an eyebrow, daring the new Watcher to ask a question. Wesley stiffened. "You know, I have some more unpacking to do, if you'll excuse me." He scuttled out of the library, and Giles finally indulged in the laughter he'd been holding in.

"Oh, Spike," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "You don't know how badly I've wanted to do something like that all day."

Spike shrugged. "It was fun, pulling that wanker's chain." He grinned. "You sure he isn't evil? I could rip his throat out for you."

Giles wished that offer wasn't nearly as tempting as it was. "No, I don't think that's a good idea. He's not evil, just a prat."

"If that means he's a dork, I would heartily agree with that assessment," Xander offered.

Giles, who normally found Xander rather annoying, now regarded him as a breath of fresh air in comparison. "Thank you, Xander." He turned to the vampire. "You're here early. Is anything wrong?"

Spike took a seat at the table. "Could be. We've got a cult moving into town, and they're not here for the sunshine."

"The Eliminati?" Giles asked. "Yes, Buffy and Faith ran into them last night. Wesley seems to think they're here for an amulet."

Spike leaned back in his chair. "What amulet?"

Giles took a seat across from him. "Apparently it's rumored that the demon they worshipped, Balthazar, had an amulet that gave him strength. Wesley is insisting that the demon is dead and that the Eliminati want the amulet for sentimental value."

Spike stared at Giles for a moment before letting out a bark of incredulous laughter. "He's not serious, is he?"

"Yes, I believe he was." Giles frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Spike shook his head. "This is a vampire cult we're talking about, right? Because they don't put a lot of stock in 'sentimental value.'"

"Yeah, vampires aren't really with the touchy-feely, I'm thinking," Xander threw in.

Giles considered that for a moment. "Wesley seemed to know what he was talking about." The older man steepled his fingers in front of his face. "I knew his father, you know."

 

"Was he a wanker, too?"

"Quite." Giles shook his head. "I want you to go with Buffy tonight, Spike. Stick close to her. If the cult wants this amulet for something important, this might turn out to be more dangerous than we thought."

~~~~~

More dangerous than expected was exactly what their evening turned out to be. The amulet was right where it was supposed to be, but the Eliminati arrived soon after they did. Two against six weren't horrible odds, however, and they managed to kill four before the last two ran away.

"Where's Faith?" Spike asked, leaning against the wall of the crypt. One of the vampires had managed to graze his side with his sword, and he was trying to get a good look at the laceration.

Buffy swatted his hands away and bent to take a look for herself. "This isn't too deep," she decided, then answered his question. "I don't know. We kind of got into a fight last night." Straightening, she asked, "What happened between the two of you, Spike?"

 

"Nothing," he replied, his tone short. "It was nothing."

"Did she come onto you?" Buffy asked. When he refused to answer, she pressed a little harder. "Did you turn her down because of me?"

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Slayer," Spike replied, disgruntled with her line of questioning.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That so doesn't answer my question."

"It's none of your sodding business."

"Well, pardon me for being a little concerned here, Spike," Buffy shot back. "You're fighting with Faith, Faith is picking fights with me, and I've got an idiot for a new Watcher. I'm not doing this with you."

"Doing what?"

"Doing this back and forth thing," Buffy replied boldly. "Either we like each other or we don't. We're all in or we decide we're not." She stuck her chin out. "So what's it going to be, because I would appreciate knowing you've got my back if I can't trust anyone else."

"You know I've got your back, Buffy," Spike replied. He was quiet for a moment. "What happens if we're all in?"

"Beats me," Buffy admitted. "I just thought deciding that might make things easier on the two of us."

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm in."

"Okay. I'm in, too."

There was a long pause, and then Spike observed, "That didn't seem to help."

"No, it really didn't."

"Maybe this will." Spike bent his head, touching her lips with his. The kiss was chaste, tentative, and brief. He rested his forehead against hers.

Buffy sighed. "What happened between you and Faith, Spike?"

"About like you thought," he confessed. "She said all you wanted me for was muscle."

"I won't deny that part of it is nice," Buffy replied, "but that's hardly all I want you for."

They both caught the unintended double entendre and laughed shakily. Spike sighed, his hands moving of their own accord in a soothing pattern on her back. "This isn't something I've done before, Summers."

"We'll move slowly then," Buffy said. "Just—see where it takes us."

"Right then," Spike said. "You got it, luv."

"Then maybe you could kiss me again," Buffy said. "Because that's the best part of the deal."

~~~~~

"So then what?" Willow asked.

Buffy tried to hide a smile. "Then we went back to his place and I patched him up."

Willow glared at her. "I want to know about the smoochies!"

"There were some."

The resolve face came out again. "Details, Buffy!"

"They were nice?"

"On a scale of one to ten?"

"Oh, we were hitting an easy nine by the time I left to go home," Buffy admitted. "And that was just the beginning. I got the feeling Spike was holding back on me."

Willow sighed. "You guys are perfect for each other."

"I know." Buffy's expression went from blissful to concerned. "Which is what has me worried."

"You're not still concerned about Spike going evil on you?" Willow asked.

The Slayer shook her head. "Not really. I'm just concerned about Faith. She got pretty nasty the other night about Spike. I think she's jealous."

Willow made a face. "I kinda can see that," she replied. "I mean, she was living with Spike and he's still into you. Plus, you got Giles for a Watcher and she gets Wesley."

Buffy grimaced, slouching down on her bed. Willow had come over to give her a protection sachet, and then they had gotten to talking. Spike was supposed to be over later, and then they were going to meet up with Faith. Not that any of them were actually comfortable with that plan, but all three of them would probably be needed to take care of the Eliminati.

"Don't forget that I have Wesley too," Buffy reminded Willow. "And can I just mention how badly that sucks?"

Willow, who normally preferred to see the best in people, couldn't disagree. Even she thought Wesley was pretty much useless. Still, she wanted to be positive. "Maybe the Council had a good reason for sending him here," she suggested, even though she sounded rather doubtful.

Buffy made a face. "Does the Council ever have a good reason for doing anything?"

Willow couldn't really disagree with her friend on that one. Any organization that would nearly kill Buffy and fire Giles didn't operate on any kind of logic that she recognized. "Yeah, you're right."

A knock came on the door and Spike poked his head through. "Ready to go, pet?"

"I'm right behind you," Buffy said. "Where are we meeting Faith?"

"At the Bronze," Spike replied. "Seemed like a neutral enough location."

"Sounds good."

Spike looked at Willow, giving her a brief nod. "You alright there, Red?"

"Just peachy," she said. "You guys be careful tonight."

"As always," Buffy said cheerfully, following Spike out the door.

Willow watched them go, realizing suddenly that Buffy had appeared to be happier than she'd been in a very long time. The witch sighed. Although she couldn't begrudge her friend a chance at happiness, they hadn't been able to spend nearly as much time together recently.

At least Willow did get most of Buffy's company during the day.

~~~~~

It was with a certain amount of shyness that Spike reached for Buffy's hand. The fact that she let him take it relaxed him slightly. "So, the Bronze, huh?"

"Yeah, figured it was easiest," Spike replied. "You don't mind?"

"No, but it would have been nice if we had some time to have fun before work," Buffy replied, pouting slightly.

Spike frowned. "Fun?"

"Is that such a foreign concept?" she teased.

"No, but..." Spike shrugged. "Killing things is fun."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "There are other ways to have fun, you know."

"Like what?"

"Like dancing with yours truly." Buffy stepped just a little closer.

Spike smiled. "All we've ever done is danced."

"Maybe we ought to try a different venue."

"You two lovebirds going to get down to business any time tonight?" Faith asked, her tone sharp.

Spike took a step away from Buffy, putting some much-needed distance between the two of them. "You ready to go?"

"There you are!" Wesley's voice cut through the noise, although he stiffened when he saw Spike. "What is he doing here?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "There's a demon that needs to be killed, and it requires all hands on deck." He suddenly grinned. "In fact, maybe that ought to include you."

"What?" Wesley took a step back as if he was afraid Spike was going to grab him. "I'll have you know I'm a Watcher. It's my job to instruct and guide the Slayer. Watchers are not required for field work."

Faith and Buffy exchanged a look, completely in one accord for the first time in weeks. "That's probably a good thing," Faith said. "You'd just be in the way."

"I am highly trained in the art of hand to hand combat!" Wesley shot back, stung.

Buffy snorted. "Right. Spike says Balthazar isn't dead."

"He most certainly is," Wesley said. "My books—"

"Aren't worth shit," Spike said rudely, tired of Wesley's pretentious attitude. "Where's the amulet?"

"It's in a safe place."

Buffy reached forward, ignoring Wesley's squeak of affront, and pulled out the amulet. "Maybe we should put it somewhere that's actually safe."

"How did you know it was there?" Wesley demanded.

Buffy sighed. "It made your jacket pooch." She looked over at Spike. "What are you thinking?"

"That you two aren't going in alone," Spike said. "We can wait until tomorrow night to take care of this demon."

Faith frowned. "Screw that. I'm in the mood for some damage."

Spike shook his head. "From what I've heard, there's at least a dozen Eliminati, plus the demon. Not odds I want you two facing on your own."

"You mean you don't want your precious Buffy facing those kind of odds," Faith shot back.

Spike glared at her. "Listen up, little girl. You might not want to listen to your Watcher—which makes sense since he's a complete git—"

Wesley was indignant. "Hey!"

"But you'll listen to me. I've been around longer than you, and I know losing odds when I see them. Might not want to sleep with you, but I don't want to see you hurt."

Spike's tone of voice was one Buffy hadn't heard before. It was hard—tough and authoritative, and she found herself grateful that he hadn't ever tried talking to her like that. There was something about it that caused Faith to look away, almost cowed. "Whatever."

"Good." Spike's eyes narrowed. "Where are you staying?"

"Motel out by the highway," Faith muttered.

Spike nodded. "Fine. You need to do some violence tonight, you do a patrol. Sweep the cemeteries and keep your head down."

To Buffy's surprise, Faith didn't argue, even if she didn't say anything that could be termed an agreement. After the dark-haired Slayer had disappeared into the crowd, Buffy turned to Spike in surprise. "What was that?"

"That was me being the pack-leader," Spike said with grim satisfaction. "Not a card I like to play all that often, but a girl like Faith respects a show of strength."

Wesley apparently felt that he needed to try and regain the ground he'd lost. "Excuse me, but I am the Watcher here."

Spike glanced at him with disdain. "When you start acting like one, I'll let you know. Let's get this out of here, Buffy."

Buffy couldn't help but feel a warm sense of satisfaction that Spike was hers.

He was really hot when he was taking charge.

~~~~~

"How long are we going to have to put up with him, Giles?" Buffy whined the next day.

Wesley had been talking about "training regimens," and Buffy had attempted to explain that Spike was in charge of that but to no avail. He was driving her crazy.

Giles sighed. He wasn't happy about the Council's choice for his replacement, either, although he couldn't help but be relieved at Buffy's change of attitude. Since the Cruciamentum she'd been a little cold towards him. She'd done a complete about-face once Wesley had arrived, however.

"I'm afraid he's here for the duration, Buffy," Giles replied. "That's who the Council wanted."

"Why?" she demanded. "It doesn't make any sense!"

Giles grimaced. "I won't argue with you. Honestly, I'm not certain why the Council would place Wesley in such a position. Active Slayers are usually assigned to a—well, an older Watcher."

Buffy slumped in her seat. "I'm not training with him," she warned him. "Spike and I are doing just fine."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that," Giles said. "How are you and Spike?"

"What are you talking about?" Buffy said, trying for complete innocence and not quite managing it.

"I think you know."

Buffy wouldn't meet his eyes. "Are you angry?"

"I ought to be," Giles said sternly. He shook his head. "Spike's soul might be permanent, but he is still a vampire." His face softened. "But I believe he'd lay down his life for you, Buffy, and that's something."

Buffy shook her head. "This wasn't what I wanted, Giles."

Giles thought of his relationship with Joyce, and although he didn't say anything, he certainly understood. He never should have entered into a relationship with Buffy's mother—except that sometimes, you really had no control over who you fell in love with. "Be careful, Buffy."

"Always," she promised him with a smile.

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