Chapter 10: Fever Dreams

“What am I to you?/Tell me darling true/To me you are the sea/Vast as you can be/And deep the shade of blue/When you’re feeling low/To whom else do you go?/I’d cry if you hurt/I’d give you my last shirt/Because I love you so/Now if my sky should fall/Would you even call?/I’ve opened up my heart/I never want to part/I’m giving you the ball.” ~Nora Jones, “What Am I To You?”

Spike shifted the books underneath his arm and knocked on Giles’ door. He still felt bad about basically stealing the Watcher’s books without even letting him know what was going on, and then he hadn’t had a chance to return them until now. Joyce had sent him home from the gallery early since he’d opened that morning, and this afternoon seemed as good a time to stop by as any.

“Spike, come in,” Giles said, opening the door and stepping aside to let Spike enter.

The other man hefted the books so Giles could see. “Came to return these,” he explained.

“Of course,” Giles said. “Just set them anywhere.”

Spike hesitated. “’m sorry ‘bout just takin’ them like that.”

“Don’t be a git,” Giles replied. “You and Buffy did a good job. There’s nothing to apologize for. Though, in the future, I would rather be kept in the loop.” He took a closer look at Spike’s face, and found it rather too pale. “Are you alright, William? You look a bit off.”

Spike shrugged. “A bit tired, an’ m’ head hurts some. It’ll pass.”

Giles waved him to a chair. “Sit for a while. I’ll make us some tea.”

Spike sat, listening to the sounds of dishes being moved in the kitchen. It was a homey, relaxing sound. He really did miss having another person around sometimes, someone to pull him out of his own—usually melancholy—thoughts. The guitar leaning up against the chair caught his eye and, unable to resist, he reached over and snagged it. “You play?”

“Not as well as I would like, I’m afraid,” Giles replied from behind him, knowing what he was referring to. “Do you?”

Spike cradled the instrument in his hands and struck a chord. It sounded a bit off, and he adjusted his fingers and tried again. This time it rang true, and he shook his head with a rueful smile as Giles came around and put his cup in front of him. “No. Didn’t have the patience.” He handed the guitar over, and then admitted. “Play the piano a bit though. Learned when I was just a lad.”

Giles considered for a moment, running his hands over the strings. Singing at the Espresso Pump was an activity he didn’t really want to share with the group at large, but he had a feeling Spike might understand, not being wholly young himself. “I’m playing at the Espresso Pump tomorrow night.”

“Are you?” Spike seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so. He settled back in his chair. “Let’s have a song then.”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Let’s have a song,” Spike repeated. “You’ve got to practice, yeah? Be much better to find out how badly you’re going to do in front of an audience before it’s more than one of your mates.”

Giles shook his head, but ran his fingers along the strings, breaking into the opening chords for “Behind Blue Eyes,” which he was planning on playing anyway. Spike closed his eyes, listening to the rather moody words and notes. Giles’ voice was mellow and pleasant, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the music. “Good band,” Spike mumured as the song ended. “Saw them in concert in London once.”

“Did you now?” Giles asked. Since Spike hadn’t said anything about his singing or playing, Giles thought it must not have been too bad. He started running through his repertoire of songs, and occasionally, Spike would join him, his rough baritone a nice counter to Giles’ smoother tenor. Giles decided that Spike’s singing talent didn’t surprise him. He wasn’t sure there was much at all that Spike could surprise him with anymore.

After a while, Giles fingers grew tired, and he decided to give them a rest. “And there you have it,” he said. “By the way, you don’t have to mention this to anyone.”

Spike smirked, though his eyes remained closed. “You don’t have anythin’ to be embarrassed about, Watcher. You’re not half bad.”

Giles harrumphed. “Yes, well, I have a feeling that the others wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re pro’bly right,” Spike agreed, his eyes blinking open. There was a weariness there that hit Giles hard. “They’re young yet.”

The Watcher stared at the ex-vampire. It hadn’t happened much recently, but every so often, he was reminded of what Spike had been, of the years that lay on his shoulders. It was history that bound them, the passing of years and of eras, and the understanding that they were not what they had once been. Their eyes met, and Ripper and Spike were in perfect understanding. “Yes, they are,” he agreed finally. Then, looking at the clock, he said, “Go home, Spike. Get some rest. You look as though you could use several days’ worth.”

Spike merely shrugged and smiled, though he did as he was told, shrugging into his jacket. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said abruptly, standing before the door. “An’ you’ll do alright. Sounds more than halfway decent really.”

Giles felt an odd glow of satisfaction that lasted long after Spike had left.

~~~~~

Buffy stood in front of the door to 2C with a feeling of trepidation. It was stupid really. She had seen Spike a couple days ago and he had been fine. At the same time, however, her mom had called to ask her to check on him. Spike didn’t just not show up, and since he didn’t have a phone, it wasn’t like Joyce could call. Buffy was closer to the campus, and without anyone to watch the gallery, Joyce couldn’t leave.

She hesitated and then knocked, waiting for an answer. After a couple minutes went by, and no one came to the door, she knocked again, a little louder this time. Starting to get really concerned, she briefly considered breaking in, but since that would require actually breaking something, Buffy discarded that idea. There had to be another way inside…

“Can I help you?” Buffy turned to see an oily looking man staring at her. He was looking at her as though he had x-ray vision, and Buffy suppressed a shiver of distaste, reminding herself that she could break his fingers off if he actually tried to touch her.

“Yeah, I’m—” she paused briefly. She’d had lunch with Spike the other day, and while they weren’t dating yet, they were definitely heading in that direction. “I’m his girlfriend,” she said firmly. “He didn’t show up for work today, and he’s not answering his door. I’m worried about him.”

The man leered at her. “Mebbe he just doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed, and she shot him a glare that had frightened braver men than he. “I don’t think so. Now, can you help me or not?”

“Fine,” the man grumbled, pulling out a set of keys. As the Slayer had hoped, he was the landlord. Spike had described him as “smarmy,” and Buffy thought it was a perfect descriptor. “Just don’t come cryin’ to me if you get an eyeful of somethin’ you don’t want to see.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently. As if. When the landlord had unlocked the door, Buffy shot him an insincerely saccharine smile, and thanked him, shutting the door firmly behind her.

“Buffy? What are you doin’ here?” Spike appeared out of his bedroom, looking harried and tired, his face flushed.

“I was checking on you,” she replied. “Mom called me and asked me to stop by when you didn’t show up today.”

Spike shook his head. “Dunno what happened. Must have slept right through the alarm. ‘m on my way now.”

Buffy frowned. Something was off. She marched up to him and put a hand on his forehead, her frown deepening further when she realized how hot he was. Temperature-wise. “Spike, you’ve got a fever. There’s no way you’re going in today. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he insisted, pulling back from her. At her look, he sighed. “’ve got a bit of a headache an’ a sore throat,” Spike finally confessed. “An’ the rest of me doesn’t feel all that great either, but I’m perfectly fine, Buffy.”

He picked that moment to sway, dizzy, and Buffy put a hand on his arm. “Right. You’re fine. Sit.” She steered him over to the lone chair in his living room and sat him down. “Spike, I know your boss, and her mom-dar is top of the line.”

“Huh?” He stared at her blankly.

“Her mom-dar,” Buffy explained. “You know, mom radar. The thing that tells moms if their kids are sick, and if they are, if they’re too sick to go to school. Trust me, mom’s going to take one look at you and send you home. You might as well save yourself the trip.”

Spike shook his head. “I should go. She needs me.” It was a weak protest even to his own ears.

“Forget it,” Buffy retorted, though her tone was gentle. “Look, I’ll get you something to drink. You need to keep yourself hydrated. Then I’ll call mom, tell her what’s the what.” She ignored the last of his protests and went into the kitchen to see if she could find some juice for him. Opening the fridge soon revealed that he didn’t have much by the way of food. Two tupperware containers of leftovers were the only things in there.

Buffy opened the other cupboards slowly, not wanting to make a lot of noise to let Spike know she was snooping. Peanut butter and Ramen noodles. She opened another door, found the glasses, and filled it with water. Taking it back to Spike, she asked, “Where’s the nearest payphone?”

“On the corner,” he replied, in between thirsty gulps. “Just up the street.” He had a sudden realization. “How’d you get in, Slayer?”

“Your landlord,” she explained. “I’ll be right back.”

Buffy walked the block to the gas station and plugged a quarter into the phone. “Hey, mom.”

“Hi, honey,” Joyce replied. “How is Spike? Did you find him?”

“He was at home, but it looks like he’s got a pretty nasty case of the flu.” Buffy rolled her eyes, forgetting that her mother couldn’t see the gesture. “He thought he was going to come into work.”

Joyce shook her head. “He should know better than that.”

“That’s what I said,” Buffy replied. “I peeked in the cupboards, and he really doesn’t have much in the way of food either.”

Joyce made a little sound of disapproval. “I wondered,” she stated, though she didn’t go into detail about why she had suspected anything. “Spike can’t stay at his apartment. He doesn’t have a phone, and if he needed help or anything…”

Buffy had already considered that scenario. “I know. I was going to call Giles. I don’t think we should take him to the doctor unless we have to since he really doesn’t have any medical records or anything like that.”

“Go ahead and call Mr. Giles,” Joyce said. “But I think you should take him back to the house. I have an extra bed and he doesn’t. I just think that might be better for everyone.”

Buffy thought about it for a second, and decided that it wasn’t a bad idea. Besides, Giles already had his apartment overrun at all hours with Scoobies. Her mom’s house would be quieter. “Sure, mom. Giles can give both of us a ride over there, and I’ll stay with him this afternoon. Hopefully, he’ll sleep, but it’s no fun being by yourself when you’re sick.”

She said her good-byes and then hung up and called Giles, quickly explaining the situation to him. He agreed to come over immediately, and she headed back to Spike’s apartment. He was half-dozing in the chair when she got back, and Buffy picked the glass up off the floor and put it in the sink.

“Buffy?”

“I’m right here,” she said, coming over to stand next to him. “Mom said don’t even think about coming in, and she wants you at our house so someone can keep an eye on you. Giles is coming over to give his verdict and to give us a ride.”

“Don’t want anyone to make a fuss,” he argued.

Buffy shook her head, touching one of the damp curls lying along his forehead. “It’s not about making a fuss, it’s about taking care of you. You’ve had people take care of you before, haven’t you?” she asked, teasingly.

“Not like this,” he replied, in perfect seriousness.

Buffy put a hand to the side of his face. “Well, get used to it. You’re part of the gang now, so you get taken care of just like everybody else.”

He smiled slightly, and his eyes drifted shut. “I’m just going to get some clothes for you,” Buffy said, but he didn’t reply. She sighed. She remembered being that sick a couple years before, when Angel had been going through his soulless stage. She was hoping, however, that Spike wouldn’t wind up in the hospital like she did.

Buffy managed to get some clean, comfortable clothes for him before Giles came. He knocked on the door and then stepped inside, per Buffy’s instructions. The Watcher looked around the apartment and winced. “Good Lord, I had forgotten how miserable first flats could be,” he muttered. Turning towards Spike, he glanced over at Buffy. “How is he?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself, old man?” Spike said without opening his eyes. “I might be a bit under the weather, but I’m still capable of answering questions.”

“Well, I guess that answers the question of what kind of patient Spike makes,” Buffy quipped.

Giles smiled and walked over to Spike, placing a hand on his forehead. “You should have told me you were feeling this badly yesterday,” he scolded.

“Wasn’t feelin’ this bad,” Spike replied calmly. “Just not that good.” He looked at Giles with a touch of weary humor. “So what’s the verdict, doc? Will I live?”

“I’m certain of it,” Giles replied. “But I think Buffy has the right idea in wanting to move you to her mother’s house. You should at least be within reach of a phone if you take a sudden turn for the worse.”

“Thought you said I’d be fine,” Spike said suspiciously.

Giles gave him a quelling look. “As Buffy could tell you, the flu is not something to be taken lightly. If the Slayer can find herself hospitalized, a mere human had better take extra precautions.”

~~~~~

Buffy got Spike settled in her bed. The spare room was crowded with things her mom was storing for the gallery, and she had no problem putting Spike in her own room. “Get some sleep,” she advised him. “I’ll be around all afternoon.”

She didn’t have to say anything at all, since Spike was already drifting off into a restless sleep, curled up in a miserable ball under the covers. Buffy winced in sympathy and then went downstairs to talk to Giles. “Okay. Let’s have it,” she said without preamble.

Giles gave her a slight smile and followed her into the kitchen. “Have what?” he asked, though he was fairly certain as to what she meant. They had known each other for too long to not know when one or the other was hiding something. He had been well aware of Buffy’s attempts to distract him the other day, though he hadn’t known what she was trying to accomplish. Giles trusted both Spike and Buffy, though, and so he hadn’t been too worried about what they were trying to do. It turned out that his instincts had been right on target in that instance.

He only hoped that his instincts were not so accurate where it concerned Spike.

“Giles,” Buffy’s voice held an unmistakable note of warning. “You’re more worried about Spike than if it was just the flu. So spill.”

Giles sighed. “I have every reason to believe that it is simply the flu and that he’ll recover just as quickly as anyone else might. It’s his overall health that I’m concerned about.”

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked quietly, starting to feel the first pangs of fear.

“We don’t know what the Initiative used to change Spike, or what condition that left him in.” Giles took his glasses off and started polishing them on his shirt. “There have been a number of changes in the last century, not least of which are vaccinations, which Spike hasn’t had. The flu can be dangerous, and we don’t know what Spike’s immune system is like. We don’t know what kind of immunities he does have, or if the Initiative took any steps to prevent him from getting illnesses that we no longer have to be concerned about.”

Buffy put one hand to her temple and rubbed tiredly. “So what you’re saying is that Spike might have just gotten turned into a human only to die from some illness that he can’t fight off.”

“That isn’t what I said,” Giles replied. “Medical science is much more advanced than it used to be. I’m certain that even if he was to get a serious illness, there would be every possibility of curing him. But his health is a concern of mine, especially since I don’t believe he’s been sleeping or eating well, which certainly doesn’t help.”

Buffy looked away, thinking hard. “Great.”

“Spike’s condition is not the only thing I’m concerned about, however. We need to start thinking about how we are going to track down this Adam, and hopefully destroy him.”

“I know,” Buffy replied. She sighed. “I’ll have to go talk to Riley. He probably won’t be real happy to see me, but we both want Adam stopped. He’ll still help. And while I’m at it, I’ll see if I can get him to dig up some info on what they used on Spike.”

“I think that would be wise,” Giles agreed. “Riley is still our best source of information on Adam and the Initiative.”

Buffy looked over at Giles in sudden inspiration. “Do you think we could do something with Spike’s apartment?”

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know, something to make it more homey or something. While he’s here, it would be the perfect opportunity. Like Trading Spaces, only without the trading.”

Giles had no idea what she was talking about, but he could get the general meaning behind her words. “Do you think we should?” he asked doubtfully. “Spike has gone to great lengths to keep certain things private. I’m not sure we should intrude.”

Buffy waved a hand dismissively. “Spike’s too proud for his own good,” she said. “He just doesn’t want to be a burden. If we do it on a strictly voluntary basis, it should be okay. Besides, you saw his place. At the very least, it could use a good coat of paint and a carpet cleaning. That’s not that big of a deal.”

Giles still wasn’t sure what he thought of her idea, but decided to let it go. Buffy would do what she wanted; she usually did. “Very well. I have somewhere to be tonight, but I wouldn’t mind helping out. As long as Spike knows it wasn’t my idea.”

“Chicken,” Buffy teased him. “That’s fine. I’ll talk to Riley tonight. They’re having a party at Lowell House, but I think I can get to him before it gets into full swing.”

“Good,” her Watcher said. “I will feel much better when we know what caused Spike’s present condition. It should help us know what to do for him. You’ll stay with him this afternoon?”

“Till mom gets home tonight,” Buffy said. “I don’t want him to be alone while he’s this sick.”

~~~~~

Spike dreamt.

He stood on a swinging bridge that hung across a chasm. He looked down, and couldn’t see the bottom; it seemed to go on forever. To his left, standing on the edge, was Spike, the vampire—rash, perpetually angry, and yet filled with a violent joie de vivre that spilled over and left a wake of blood behind him. On the other side, to his right, stood William, the man—quiet, mousy, ineffectual William, who would have made someone a doting husband and indulgent father.

The demon called out to him. “You know you can’t escape your true nature. You were in the darkness for a century. Do you really think you can leave that behind? It’s not possible.”

The man called out to him. “You belong to the light now. There is no point in sullying your thoughts with evil things. A gentleman keeps his mind on that which is good and true and pure.”

“You don’t believe that Victorian shit,” the demon sneered. “The darkness is the place for you. You know you feel it in your soul.”

“You’re human now, a man. You must act like a man,” William called.

Bringing his hands up to his ears to drown out their voices, Spike howled a wordless cry. What was he? Who was he? He was Spike, and not-Spike. He was William, and not-William. He was both. He was nothing. “I won’t choose,” he said, screaming his defiance. “I am both or nothing.”

“Then be nothing,” they both said in unison, and the ropes holding the bridge broke on both sides at the same time. Spike fell—

—and landed on his back in a graveyard. He had known Sunnydale like the back of his hand, and he recognized this cemetery as one of those he had haunted on occasion. He had followed the Slayer there.

As if his thought had conjured her out of thin air, Buffy appeared, looming over him, a stake held firmly in her right hand. She dropped to her knees, straddling him, but there was no softness in her face. She was all business. “Buffy, no—” he protested.

“You’re beneath me,” she replied, coolly, concisely, and the stake slammed down into his chest. She pulled it out, and it made a sucking sound as it left. Then, as casually as if she were plucking a daisy, she reached down into the wound and pulled out his heart. “Did you ever think you had a chance with me?” she asked, and then crushed his heart in her hand.

Spike looked on in horror as she seemed to dissolve, and he put his hands up to the wound in his chest. They were covered in blood, but now it was not his, but others’, belonging to the thousands he had killed. He scrambled to his feet, terror overwhelming him. The faces of his victims surrounded him, crowding in out of the darkness, and he tried to plead with them, tried to tell them that it hadn’t been his fault. That he had been a demon in a good man’s clothing.

There were no excuses that could wash away the blood on his hands, however, nothing he could do or say to make it all right again. He had been a monster, a demon, and he had loved every minute of it.

Out of the crowd of faces came Drusilla, then Angelus. They walked side by side, slowly. “I missed my brave knight,” Dru crooned. “Daddy promised to get him back for me.”

“No,” Spike protested, trying to run. He found his feet fastened to the ground. Angelus came around behind him, holding him in place as Drusilla sunk her fangs into his neck. “You’ll be one of us again, my boy,” Angelus murmured, and Spike felt his life slip away from him with a sense of despair.

He woke to find himself back in the Initiative labs, the metal table beneath him cold on his bare skin. He was tied down, unable to move, unable to speak. They had stolen his autonomy, his voice, everything that made him what he was. Again, he watched as the doctor sliced a thin red line into his chest. Again, he watched as the green goo was poured over the cut. This time, however, nothing happened. There was no change.

“This one can’t be fixed,” the faceless doctor said, his voice echoing in the cavernous lab. “We’ll need to open him up to see what the problem is.”

The scalpel descended once again, and Spike struggled against what held him, tried to cry out, tried—

The cold wetness on his face shocked him into wakefulness. He stared at Buffy, who was regarding him with a look of concern. “Are you okay? That must have been some nightmare. I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last few minutes.”

Spike shook his head, still speechless for the moment. It had been a dream; he had been tangled in the sheets. Buffy had a glass of water in her hand, not a stake. The Slayer put the glass down and quickly helped him untangle himself. “I’ll need to change the pillowcase,” she said, as though he had replied to her previous question. “I didn’t know what else to do. I tried shaking you, and I tried calling your name I don’t know how many times.”

Spike was still silent. “Spike, why don’t you go take a nice cool bath?” Buffy suggested softly. “Your fever’s still really high, and we need to get it down.”

“Am I beneath you?” he asked hoarsely, still expecting to see a stake appear in her hand. The dream had felt that real.

Buffy pursed her lips. “I’m never gonna hear the end of that one, am I?” she asked. “No. You’re not beneath me.” A rather dirty thought ran through Buffy’s head as she pictured Spike beneath her in a very different way than he meant. She flushed slightly. “Come on. We really need to get that fever down. I think it’s playing with your brain.”

Spike didn’t reply, but Buffy took his silence as acquiescence. At least he was mobile enough to get himself to the bathroom. Buffy started the water, making sure it was cool. “Okay, you soak for a while, and I’ll see if I can’t get something for us both to eat.”

“I was a monster,” he whispered.

Buffy paused at the door. She understood how you could get freaked out by your own dreams. She’d had a few Slayer-dreams that had pretty much wigged her for days afterward. “Spike, it was just a dream. I don’t know what you saw, but—”

“I was a monster,” Spike repeated.

Buffy came to kneel in front of him. “Yes, you were. But not anymore. Spike, you’re sick right now. You don’t feel good, and you just had a really nasty nightmare. It’s natural that you would feel out of sorts.”

“How can you even look at me?” he asked, despair written on his features.

Buffy smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes.” When he didn’t return her smile, she gave an exasperated sigh. “Spike, do you trust me?”

“Wha—yeah, ‘course,” he said, still hazy from the dreams and fever.

“Good. Then trust me when I say you aren’t rational right now. We can talk about this again after you get better.” Buffy stared into his eyes. “Deal?”

A sheepish smile spread over Spike’s face. “I’m bein’ a bit of a ponce, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. She ran a hand down the side of his face.

“This really sucks.”

“Being sick always does.”

“Buffy, I don’t know who I am.”

Impulsively, she kissed him on the forehead, a tender, maternal gesture. “It’s going to be fine, Spike. I promise.”

~~~~~

Buffy stood in front of the door to Riley’s room. The guys she had seen on her way in had been cool, though no one had been outright rude. However, it was probably a good thing she hadn’t run into Forrest. While she had no doubt that she could take him, beating up one of Riley’s bestest buds probably wouldn’t be conducive to getting his help.

She knocked timidly, and then entered when she heard him call to enter. “Hey,” she said.

“Buffy.” Riley’s eyes were cool and remote. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk—about the Initiative and about Adam. Do you have some time?”

Riley regarded her calmly. “Not here,” he replied. “It’s not safe.”

They walked outside through the campus, side by side, though not touching. Buffy had left her mom in charge of Spike. After the cool bath and Nyquil, he seemed to be doing better, but she had warned Joyce about the nightmares. Her mom had assured her that she could handle a few bad dreams. “So what’s up?” Riley asked, breaking the silence.

“I need your help. We need to figure out how we’re going to stop Adam.” Buffy turned to face him. “You said you were going to help us.”

Riley stared at her, and then nodded slowly. He still felt some resentment towards Buffy, but he was having a hard time blaming her at this point. He was also beginning to see that she had been right, that they inhabited different worlds. Just look at what had happened with Faith: there was a world out there he wasn’t sure he was ready for, or that he even wanted to know about. There was a world beyond the government-sanctioned demon-fighting he did—a world of magic and shades of gray. In this case, however, they had the same goal, to prevent Adam from hurting more innocents. That was something they could both agree was worth fighting for.

“I’ll tell you what I know,” Riley agreed, filling her in on what they had found out about Adam’s construction.

“So he’s pretty much invincible unless you can get rid of the power core?” Buffy asked. “I’m not loving that scenario.”

Riley nodded. “We haven’t figured out how to stop him either,” he agreed. “It seems Professor Walsh did almost too good a job on the design.”

Buffy laughed a little bitterly. “Why am I not surprised by that?” She was silent for a minute. “We’ll keep working on it from our end. Maybe we can find something that you’re overlooking.”

“I hope you can,” Riley said sincerely. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, there is,” Buffy replied, looking over at him. “Is there any way you can get information on what was done to Spike?”

Riley’s face hardened. “Buffy—”

“Look, I know you don’t like him, Riley, but he’s human now.” Buffy forged ahead. “He’s sick. Giles thinks it could get more serious because he doesn’t have the immunities we do, and we don’t know what his health was like when he was turned. If we at least knew how it was done, it might give us some place to start.”

Riley looked away. “I’ll do what I can,” he finally promised. “I’m not sure Professor Walsh even knew what they did exactly, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thank you,” Buffy said softly, touching him lightly on the arm.

Riley gave her a serious look. “Don’t mention it.”

~~~~~

Spike woke slowly to find Tara at Buffy’s desk, working on homework. “Tara?”

“Hey. How are you feeling?” she asked shyly.

“Better. ‘Least I don’t feel like I want to die anymore.” Spike pulled himself into a sitting position and grabbed the glass of water on the bedside table, drinking thirstily. He had slept restlessly, and every time he woke up there was someone there. It wasn’t like they were hovering or anything, but Buffy had been there until Joyce showed up. Then Joyce had made soup for him. And now Tara was there to watch over him. “’s there something’ I should know about?” Spike asked her. “Like somethin’ about me dyin’, because no one wants me to be alone.”

Tara smiled. “You’re not dying,” she assured him. “But I think Buffy was worried about you having another one of those nightmares.”

Spike frowned. There had been another dream earlier, about his mother. He had dreamt of her, of her singing to him, and of turning her and everything she had said to him. It had been far from a pleasant dream, and yet another reminder of the dichotomy of William and Spike. How could he ever hope to reconcile the two? “They’ve been a bit worse lately,” he admitted.

“It’s probably the fever,” Tara said wisely. “Drink this.” She pressed a mug into his hand. “My mom used to make this for me when I got the flu.”

Spike took a suspicious sniff and then a hesitant sip. After the first taste, he gulped it down quickly. It really didn’t taste too bad. “That’s alright.”

“My mom used to say that there wasn’t any reason for medicine to taste bad,” Tara replied.

“Might have liked your mum then,” Spike replied. “She still around?” Tara’s smile faltered, and Spike immediately realized his mistake. “’m sorry, Glinda.”

“I-it’s okay,” Tara replied. “You didn’t know.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Spike, why do you call me that?”

“What, Glinda?” He gave her a rather charming smile. “’s what you are, yeah? The good witch?”

Tara’s face fell. Spike’s inadvertant reminder of her mother, paired with his nickname for her broke down the defenses she usually carried around. “I’m not.”

He frowned, hating that she was suddenly sad. “What? Not good, or not a witch?”

“I’m n-not g-g-good.” The hated stutter was back when it had all but disappeared recently around Willow and Spike anyway.

Spike grew more serious. “Luv, you’re one of the best ones I know. Why would you say somethin’ like that?”

She shook her head, refusing to answer, but Spike wasn’t about to just let it go. It was obvious that whatever the problem was it had her scared stiff. He reached out for her hand and grasped it firmly. “I won’t tell anybody,” he said quietly. “’f you need to get it off your chest. I won’t say anything.”

“I’m part demon.”

Tara’s voice was barely audible, and only Spike’s close proximity allowed him to hear her words. At first, he just stared at her in disbelief; then he started to laugh. He just couldn’t help himself. If there were anyone in the world less likely to be evil or a demon, Spike had never met them. She stared at him, hurt, and tried to tug her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go. “There isn’t anyone less likely to be a demon, Glinda,” he said gently. “An’ trust me, you’re not one. ‘ve met I don’t know how many, an’ none of ‘em looked like you.”

Tara shook her head stubbornly. “I-it’s in my b-blood. All the w-w-women in my family are p-part d-demon.”

Spike blinked, beginning to get the picture, barely refraining from snarling. No wonder the girl was so shy. “Luv,” he said gently. “Do you have any siblings?”

“A-a b-brother.”

“An’ he’s not part demon?” When she shook her head, Spike rolled his eyes. “Well, there you have it. Demon blood ‘s just like anything else. You might find a few half breeds here an’ there, an’ some of ‘em can pass for human. Some can’t. But you don’t have sibs from the same parents, an’ have one part demon an’ one not. Doesn’t work that way. Trust me. Whoever gave you that line was a lyin’ bastard.”

Tara’s eyes flew up at his harsh words, but he was looking at her with such compassion she wanted to cry. She had no idea why she told Spike, of all people, what her deepest fears were. Perhaps she thought he might understand, since he had been a demon once himself. “Th-that’s w-what m-my f-f-father always said.”

“An’ I won’t take back what I said,” Spike said fiercely. “’sides, even if it were true, ‘s not about the blood runnin’ through your veins, it’s about what you do. You do right, that’s all that matters.”

“Do you really believe that?” she questioned.

“’course I do,” Spike replied. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

“No,” Tara said. “Do you believe it?”

Spike realized that she wasn’t just asking about what he believed about her, but what he believed about himself. “Now that’s entirely different,” he protested.

“Is it?” she challenged him.

He glared at her. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t care what you’ve done,” Tara declared. “I know what you do now.”

Spike stared at her, and then broke out into a reluctant smile. “You twisted my words around.”

“It seemed like good advice,” she replied.

“I’ll try if you will,” he promised. “But you should tell, Red. She loves you, you know?”

“I’ll try.” There was a pause, during which Spike felt himself drifting off again. “Spike?”

“Yeah, luv?”

“Thank you.”

Spike simply smiled. And whether it was the tea, or the conversation, he slept sweetly after that.

~~~~~

“Okay,” Buffy said. “Everybody have their assignments?”

“Bedroom, check.”

“Bathroom, check.”

“Kitchen, check.”

“Good, and I’ve got the living room.” Buffy surveyed her troops, consisting of Xander, Willow, Anya, and Giles. Buffy wasn’t sure what Xander had promised his girlfriend to get her here and do anything like real work, but an extra pair of hands was always nice.

Really, decorating for Spike was out of the question, mostly because no one had any idea of what he might like. On the other hand, painting was perfectly doable, and with more people to help, the job would get done a heck of a lot faster. Besides, Buffy was certain that the apartment would look so much better newly-painted, and she had chosen very neutral shades for the walls. With everybody pitching in, both with their money and their time, it was no trouble.

Then, with the help of her mother’s steam-cleaner vacuum (good for everything that might get in the carpets, including blood), the place would be spotless, ready for whatever Spike decided needed to be done.

There was plenty of chatter and good-natured ribbing as they got started, and sure enough, they were done in no time. The apartment was not that big. “Well, I hope Spike appreciates this,” Xander complained cheerfully. “Because my arm hurts.”

“Maybe you should work out more often,” Buffy teased, appreciating the mellow, creamy ivory color she’d gotten to put on the walls.

“Just because you’re the Slayer—” Xander replied, threatening her with a wet paintbrush.

Giles shook his head. “We should clear this out. I’m sure Tara doesn’t want to be stuck at Spike’s bedside all day.”

“We’d probably better leave the windows open too,” Willow suggested. “Otherwise, Spike’s going to be overwhelmed with paint fumes.”

“Good idea, Wil,” Buffy said. “Giles, you mind if I catch a ride back to the house with you?”

“No, not at all.” They packed up the paint cans, drop cloths, and brushes.

“You’ll tell Tara I’ll see her later tonight?” Willow asked Buffy.

“Sure.” Buffy and Giles rode together quietly for a while.

“Riley did tell you he would get the information?” Giles asked.

Buffy nodded. “There’s more. On patrol last night, I ran into a demon-vampire tag team.”

Giles glanced over at her. “Are you certain? Vampires and demons do not, as a rule, work together.”

“That’s what I said,” Buffy replied. “And trust me, taking on a vampire and demon by yourself? Not fun.”

Giles shook his head. “Demons look on vampires as half-breeds. There is a great deal of hatred between the two.”

“Well, tell that to the team I ran into last night,” Buffy huffed. “Giles, you know who’s behind this.”

“Adam.” Giles put a hand up to his head and rubbed wearily. “This makes it that much more imperative that we find a way to stop him. If he continues to unite demons and vampires, I fear it will be that much more difficult to end this.”

“I know, Giles. You haven’t seen him, though. Adam isn’t like anything or anyone we’ve ever faced before.” She gave a short laugh. “I’m not even sure a rocket launcher or blowing up a building will do it.”

“We don’t have a building to blow up this time,” Giles reminded her. “Not without a high risk of getting others caught in the middle.”

“I know.” They pulled up in front of the house. “Thanks for helping today, Giles.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied. “Let Tara know that I’ll be happy to give her a ride as well.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

Spike insisted on going back to his apartment the next day. Buffy insisted on walking him back, wanting to see the look on his face when he saw the paint job on his apartment. “I feel fine.”

Buffy had rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue with him. His fever was gone, and while he was still recovering, he would be fine on his own. “All right. I won’t argue with you.”

“’bout time,” he grumbled, but he was smiling. “Buffy, I—I really appreciate this, you lookin’ after me, I mean.”

“So you really are feeling better?” Buffy asked. “You were pretty freaked the other day.”

Spike shrugged. “It’s hard, Buffy. It’s—” He stopped, unsure of whether or not he should go on. “Before, it was just tryin’ to figure out what bein’ human means. Now, ‘m just tryin’ to figure out what bein’ me means.”

Buffy looked off into the distance. “You’re a good guy, Spike. You’ve changed. That’s all that matters.”

“Is it really, luv?” he asked. “After everything I’ve done, can you still say that?”

Buffy reached over and grabbed his hand. “Yeah, I can. One thing I’ve learned being the Slayer, is that right now is what matters. You don’t always have a lot of time, so what you do now is all that’s important.”

“Carpe diem, huh?” Spike asked.

“Pretty much.” They had reached his apartment, and Buffy held him back. “Wait, Spike.” She took the keys from his hand. “Eyes closed.”

He raised a scarred eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Just shut ‘em.” He sighed and closed his eyes. Buffy unlocked the door and tugged him inside. “Okay, you can open them now.”

Spike opened his eyes warily and then took a deep breath. “Who painted?”

“We did. You like?”

Looking around the apartment incredulously, he shook his head. “Buffy, this—this is—” Spike stopped. The whole place looked cleaner, brighter, almost like a brand new apartment.

“Oh, and Mom filled up your fridge. There isn’t a ton in there, but it’s enough to get you by for a while.” She grinned at him.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said softly.

“Spike,” Buffy pulled him around to face her. “It’s not about having to do something. We wanted to do it. You’ve been a lot of help, both to mom and the gang, not to mention Giles. This is the kind of thing people do for their friends.”

Spike had never had friends, not when he was human. And vampires didn’t make friends, they had minions, or perhaps families, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to laugh, and he wanted to cry. “What are we, luv?”

“I think we’re moving into the dating stage of the game,” Buffy replied. “You think you’re up for the challenge?” she teased.

He gave her a wolfish grin and then kissed her thoroughly, showing her exactly how ready he was to move onto the next step. It seemed he still remembered how to kiss, because when he pulled back, Buffy was looking just a little bit stunned. “Oh, wow,” she murmured. “Better try that again, just to make sure.”

Spike had no problem obliging her.

Chapter 11: Meet the Inner Demon

“Don’t speak, words come out your eyes./You’re wet with this nightmare./Like thorns you hold these secrets to your breast,/Your slender fingers closing into fists./Trace your bruise like a guilty streak./Hold the pain./You’re a connoisseur./You think you have no other gift to give,/but we have so much left to live…So come on now,/I can almost see/that place on a distant shore./And courage is a weapon we must use/to find some life you can’t refuse…I guess all I really mean,/is you’re gonna be alright/yeah, you’re gonna be alright./You can close your eyes tonight.” ~Over the Rhine, “Etc, Whatever”

Buffy opened the door to find Riley standing in front of her. “Hey, Buffy.”

“Riley.” She smiled in greeting. They had somehow found themselves on much friendlier ground than before. “What’s up?”

“I have that information on Spike that you wanted,” he explained, handing her a thick folder. “It’s all there. What they used, where it came from, results of the testing they did after he became human.” The soldier stopped and hesitated. “Look, Buffy, there’s a CD with some footage in there too. You might want to let Spike watch that by himself. It’s—it’s a little rough.”

Buffy looked grim. “I’ll let him know.”

Riley took a deep breath. “I know we didn’t see eye to eye on the whole Spike thing, but after getting a better look at his records, I’m beginning to think you were right. And, if you wouldn’t mind, could you tell him that I’m sorry?” At Buffy’s look of surprise, Riley added, “The Initiative’s job is to protect humans; that’s what I signed up for. But in Spike’s case we didn’t do a very good job of distinguishing between human and not.”

The Slayer gave Riley a long look, sensing his sincerity. “I think Spike will appreciate that.”

“Anyway, use what you need,” Riley continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let me know if you need my help with anything else, okay? I really want to do whatever I can to help stop Adam.”

“Thanks, Riley. Same here, if you need the Slayer, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I’ll let you know. See you around, Buffy.”

Riley turned to leave, and Buffy was relieved to see that he seemed cheerful enough. She hated to think that she’d damaged him for life by breaking things off. “Riley! Wait.” He half-turned to look back at her. “We’re having a meeting later this afternoon at Giles’ to talk about Adam and things. It would be nice if you could make it.”

She could see him hesitating, but he finally nodded. “I’ll try. Any particular time?”

“Maybe four-ish?” Riley nodded and started back down the hall. Buffy sighed. Now she would just have to explain his presence to Spike.

~~~~~

“Now why on earth would you ask me to do something like that?” Giles asked incredulously.

Spike looked at him stubbornly, and Giles had a feeling that no matter what was said, he would not be winning this argument. “’m curious, is all,” he said. “’sides, it’s not like you don’t have enough experience to help me out.”

Giles shook his head, still trying to figure out why Spike would want to train. His request seemed to come out of nowhere. “I am still uncertain as to what you feel you would gain by this, Spike.”

“I want to see where I end an’ the demon began,” the ex-vampire said quietly. “I was—I was different as a human, before. I want to know if I can still fight.” There was a note of desperation in his tone as he said, “Rupert, I spent over a hundred years learnin’ how to survive, honin’ my skills, getting a reputation. Wasn’t about the kill, it was about the excitement. There’s a part of me that still wants it.”

“And you want to see if you can still handle it,” Giles replied, beginning to understand. He sighed. Buffy hadn’t seemed particularly interested in training recently, and since Spike moved out he didn’t have nearly as much to keep him busy. The opportunity to train and teach someone else was inviting; he very much enjoyed that part of his work.

There was more, however. Giles felt that the time might soon be approaching for him to move back to England. Buffy certainly didn’t require extensive services from a Watcher, and Willow was skilled enough with witchcraft that they didn’t need his services as a magician. They might require an extra pair of hands in battle though, and a steady head where research was concerned. Spike was not a Watcher, but he could easily fill the role of replacement, without too much trouble. And Spike wouldn’t leave, that much Giles could guarantee.

“Very well, Spike. I do feel it wise to wait until after we have things with Adam sorted out before we start. I fear that he will require all our attention.” Giles looked at Spike, regarding him with serious intent. “It will also give you time to finish recovering.”

“I’m fine,” Spike protested, a touch of anger in his voice. “Wish you lot would quit hoverin’. You’re worse than Joyce. Least she’ll give me some space.”

“She also gave you the day off,” Giles pointed out. “With strict instructions to take it easy.”

Spike stared at him suspiciously. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” the Watcher replied calmly. “She called me and told me to look out for you.”

Spike rolled his eyes dramatically. “You two are worse than a gaggle of old mamas,” he grumbled. “Won’t even give a bloke the chance to breathe.”

“We happen to be rather fond of you, William,” Giles said, unperturbed. “We would like to keep you relatively healthy.”

Spike might have managed a snarky reply to that statement of fact, in spite of the kindness. He really was more than a little tired of people trying to take care of him. It was beginning to make him clautrophobic. Giles was saved from his caustic reply, however, by Buffy breezing in the door after a brief knock. “Giles, Riley came through on the information we needed.”

The Slayer stopped when she saw Spike standing there. “Hey, Spike. I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”

“Your mom decided I was too fragile and needed a day off,” he explained, rather grumpily.

She smiled at him. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here,” Buffy said. “It’s all about you anyway.” She set the file down on Giles’ coffee table and come around to sit next to Spike on the couch. “We’ll probably need Willow for the data files,” she said, “but Riley said there was some footage on the CD that no one else should see.”

Buffy could feel Spike stiffen beside her, and she reached out to take his hand comfortingly. “That’s what’s s’posed to tell us what they did to me, huh?”

Giles was flipping through documents, including detailed notes about the substance—some kind of demon blood—and the demon it was taken out of. “Spike, would you hand me Briggs’ Demon Compendium?”

Buffy was slightly surprised when Spike found it immediately, without any trouble at all. It seemed he knew his way around Giles’ books as well as the Watcher did. Giles flipped it open, going quickly to the correct entry. “Ah. I thought so. The Mohra demon, in whose veins runs the blood of eternity. The blood has regenerative properties. The Initiative tracked and captured one, and during their tests found out that the blood seemed to have strange abilities.” The Watcher flipped through a couple more pages, finding another that pertained to what he was looking for. “Spike was captured at about the same time they were looking for a test subject, and since vampires are technically dead, they decided to test the blood on him.”

Giles looked up at Spike. “It seems that the Initiative’s testing did include common vaccinations, so that’s one thing we don’t have to be concerned about.”

“That’s a relief,” Spike muttered, obviously uncomfortable.

“There are other things in here, of course. Test results, observations, some CD’s. I would suggest we let Willow look at it, at least to see what kind of information is there.” Giles threw a concerned look at Spike. “Are you sure you’re up to this, William?”

“Quite sure,” Spike replied, and for a second Buffy could hear traces of a much more Giles-like accent. “Let’s see it then.”

They spent the next several hours going over the rest of the files. Spike continued to get more quiet and more grim as he acquired additional information. He had pretty much missed out on the first couple weeks because he’d been, well, insane. Now, here was more information than he’d ever wanted. At some point, Buffy came over to sit next to him again, snuggling up close, and her physical proximity was a comfort.

Willow came over as soon as she finished her last class, bringing her laptop with her. “Okay. So I’m data girl. Here we go.” There were three disks, and Willow went through them quickly. Two were simply the electronic files for the hard copies of the documents they already had. The third obviously had footage on it, and Willow didn’t open any of the files on that one. “Do you want to watch it alone?” she asked Spike. “I could show you how.”

He shook his head. “Don’t think ‘m ready for that,” he replied. “Maybe—maybe some other time, yeah?”

“Whenever,” Willow said easily, almost too brightly. She was feeling particularly bad for Spike. Realizing exactly how much had been done to him was a little scary. “Just let me know.”

“Sure.” Spike wanted to do something, pummel something. He felt Buffy tug on his hand, and he glanced over at her.

“We have some time before the meeting later,” she said quietly. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

~~~~~

They walked to a park, Buffy keeping her fingers interlocked with his. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Wish everybody would stop askin’ me that,” Spike replied. “’s like you lot think I’m going to fly apart any minute.”

“Are you?”

“Ha bloody ha, Slayer,” Spike said.

Buffy smiled up at him. “So, you’re definitely feeling better then?”

“All your mother’s arguments aside, yeah. I’m better.” Spike managed to smile back at her. There was something about the sun on his face and Buffy’s hand in his that made him feel infinitely better.

“My mother?” Buffy teased. “She’s your boss.” He raised an eyebrow in response, and she went on. “Riley told me to say he was sorry. I don’t know if that’s really what you want to hear, but that’s what he said.”

“That’s big of him,” Spike said evenly.

Buffy frowned. “Spike, for Riley to even admit that the Initiative was wrong is huge. You could cut him some slack.”

“What do you want me to say?” he demanded. “I just went through a file several inches thick with ‘Hostile 17’ stamped all over it. So he’s sorry. Finn was still a part of the blokes that did that to me.” Spike took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. “I’m human because of what they did, an’ I’m not sayin’ I regret it. Most days I don’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy for me.”

“I know,” Buffy replied.

Spike pulled away. “How can you?”

“Because I’m the Slayer,” she replied. “I know this kind of stuff.” When he didn’t smile or respond, she sighed. “I know what it’s like to have a hard time figuring out who you are, Spike. You’re right. It’s not easy. But you seem to be doing okay with things.”

“Yeah.” Spike studied the ground intently. “’m doin’ okay.”

Buffy reached out for him again. She had never been very good with words, not with anyone, so she tried the physical thing, hoping she might anchor him in a way. He let himself be moved, and she put her arms around his waist, feeling him return the embrace eventually. “I didn’t say you had to forgive Riley. I’m just passing along the message.” Buffy’s voice was muffled by the blue t-shirt he wore.

“I know.” Spike placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Just as long as you don’t expect me to be friends with the git, I think we’ll be okay.”

“That’s good,” Buffy said, pulling back slightly. “Then you don’t mind that he’s coming to the meeting, right?”

~~~~~

Spike had definitely minded, but he had understood Buffy’s point. They needed information from the Initiative to defeat Adam. The soldier could only be a help when it came to taking the hybrid human-demon cyborg down. That didn’t mean he was happy with it.

About the only saving grace was that Buffy was sitting next to him on Giles’ couch, as they went through the information they had. Spike made certain to keep one arm behind Buffy the entire time, the gesture a subtle declaration of possession.

“It’s been quiet,” Buffy said, knowing exactly why Spike felt he needed to put his arm around her, but deciding not to argue about it. “My kill count is way down.”

“Buffy doesn’t make her quota,” Xander quipped. “Bad Slayer.”

Spike glanced over to see Willow whispering in Tara’s ear, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Tara had spilled her secret yet. As he watched them laugh, he couldn’t help but feel happy for the both of them. They had a good chance of making it, he thought.

He tuned back into the conversation just as Giles said, “So the activity has shifted but not stopped. That’s very interesting.”

“To a very bored person maybe,” Anya commented, completely serious. Spike found it difficult to stifle his laughter. He always found Anya’s commentary funny, if sometimes embarrassing. She told it like it was, a trait he admired.

Giles got rather huffy, and Spike glanced over at Buffy who was also looking amused. Riley was valiantly trying to hide a smile, and then the door opened. The three of them looked up as the door opened, and Spike was surprised to see a short red-head standing in the doorway, looking a trifle awkward. He wasn’t sure who he was seeing, but as silence fell over the room, it looked to be an important arrival.

“Hi, guys.”

~~~~~

“So that was Willow’s ex?” Spike asked, as they walked back to his place.

“Yeah,” Buffy replied.

Spike glanced over at Buffy, who looked worried. “Bad breakup?”

“You could say that,” Buffy replied. “It was just before you showed up, actually. Some stuff came up, and Oz pretty much bailed over night. Willow was devastated.”

“I can imagine,” Spike murmured. “Been there, done that.”

“Me too,” Buffy said. They shared a look and both smiled, enjoying the shared bond. “Anyway, it’s really too bad. Willow was completely dealing with Oz being a werewolf.”

“The boy’s a werewolf?” Spike stared at Buffy. “Really? Is that safe?”

“Uh, sure.” Buffy gave him a weird look. “I mean, Oz locked himself up three days out of the month, but Willow was okay with it.”

Spike shook his head. “No, is it safe now? With the Initiative goons runnin’ around all the time, lookin’ for Adam.” He pointed at the sky. “’s a full moon tonight, luv. Do we know your friend’s in a safe spot?”

Buffy frowned. “I don’t know. Oz was meeting Willow tonight.” She gave it some consideration, and then said hopefully, “Oz was going to try to find a way to control the wolf. Maybe he figured it out.”

Spike hesitated, and then said slowly. “I hope he did, luv, but inner demons aren’t usually so easily gotten rid of.” He glanced over at Buffy. “You mind if we stop by Tara’s place? Want to check on her.”

Buffy wasn’t sure what to think of Spike’s question. She knew that he and Tara were friends, but she was curious as to why he thought he needed to look in on her. Unless—the thought was too strange to even contemplate. Except—Tara had been upset earlier that afternoon, as had Willow. If it were just a friendship—

Buffy shook the notion off. Of course it wasn’t anything like that. “Sure. And then, maybe, would you want to see a movie?”

Spike thought of needing to get up early the next morning to open the gallery. Then he thought of sitting in the back of a darkened theater with Buffy. It was no contest. “Yeah, pet. ‘d like that.”

~~~~~

Buffy woke slowly, her head pillowed on Spike’s shoulder. It was too early, but the alarm was going off, and she knew he had to be to work soon. She rolled over to look into his eyes. “Hey there.”

“’ey, luv,” he mumbled sleepily. “’s too bloody early.”

“I second that,” she said, giving him a kiss. They had gone to the movie after stopping by Tara’s. The girl had thanked Spike for stopping by, but had said that she was fine. They’d gone to the theater, finding whatever was playing at that late hour. Buffy hadn’t really seen any of it though. Spike had been too busy kissing her and making snide remarks about the actors for her to pay much attention. She couldn’t remember enjoying herself that much at the movies for, well, ever.

Knowing that Willow might want some time with Oz, and not wanting to intrude, they’d both gone back to Spike’s apartment and crashed together on his bed. Buffy wasn’t sure she would have minded doing something other than sleep, but Spike didn’t seem ready to go down that road yet. Just waking up next to him, though, his curly hair mussed and sticking up all over the place, his blue eyes darkened by dreams and desire—well, it was certainly something to wake up to.

“You want the shower first?” he asked sleepily.

Buffy shook her head. “No clean clothes. I’ll catch one back at the dorm.”

“You just want to sleep a bit more,” he accused. Buffy gave him a smug little smiled, then rolled over with her back to him. She heard him groan and then the bed creaked as he rose. She opened one eye to watch as he padded over to the closet and pulled out some clothing, admiring his well-muscled back and lean form. Definitely something nice to wake up to.

“How late are you working?” she called out.

His muffled voice came through the crack in the door, drifting across the short expanse of hall into the bedroom. “Till five. Your mom’s leavin’ on a buying trip in a day or so. She said she wanted to give me a bit of time off before I was stuck runnin’ the place on my own for the next few days. Why?”

“Just curious.” Buffy rolled over in bed lazily. “Thought maybe you might want to do something tonight.”

She could hear the water start, and whatever he might have said was drowned out by the noise. Buffy got out of bed and pulled on her pants, smiling as she did so. Spike had been so cute, looking away as she got undressed until she was under the covers. Buffy had to wonder how much of that was William.

Leaning back against the wall, thinking about Spike, she had to wonder how much of him was Spike, and how much was the man he’d been before he was turned. The Slayer had the sense that no one was really sure, least of all Spike himself.

She was still pondering when Spike stuck his head into the bedroom. “Sorry, pet. Didn’t hear you. What was that you said?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight,” Buffy replied.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What would you want to do?”

Spike hesitated, and then said, almost plaintively, “You think we could just—I don’t know—sit? Maybe stay in, watch the telly? Wouldn’t be here, of course, but—I just want you to m’self for a while.”

A slow smile spread across Buffy’s face. “I think we could manage that.”

He grinned at her. “Brilliant. We could rent a bad movie an’ throw popcorn at the screen. Always wanted to do that.”

Buffy laughed, loving this playful side of Spike. “Sounds like a plan.”

~~~~~

Their plans never did go quite right. Spike had decided to go for a run after work, since he wasn’t supposed to meet Buffy until 7. He had discovered that he needed to get his adrenaline rush from somewhere. Stealing was out of the question, and hunting demons was rather foolish. Running, on the other hand, gave him a nice high and was easy on his wallet. It had been Giles who turned him onto the sport, and they’d been together a couple times. But most days, he liked going by himself, letting his mind empty.

He had just finished, and was out front towelling himself off with his shirt when Buffy came running up. “Spike!”

“Hey, luv,” he replied, smiling at her. “You’re early.”

“We have a problem,” Buffy said grimly. “The Initiative has Oz.”

Spike stiffened, the hand holding his t-shirt dropping limply to his side. “Did you call Finn?”

Buffy shook her head. “I tried. I’ve been trying, but I can’t get a hold of him. We have to get Oz out of there. If I had the security clearance still, we could walk in there, but that’s long gone. I—we thought, maybe if you still remembered how you got out…”

His voice was toneless when he finally spoke, the color in his cheeks from his run draining out. “I’ll need to change, get dressed. Shower.”

“We don’t have time!” Buffy protested.

Spike looked at her, and something flashed in his eyes. “We have time. Place starts shuttin’ down after 10. We don’t go in before then.”

Buffy was silenced by the flatness of his tone and the emptiness in his eyes. She realized belatedly that she was asking him to do what constituted his worst nightmare. She had been thinking only of ways to get Oz out, and hadn’t completely processed what it would mean for Spike to be asked to go back in. “Spike—”

“I’ll go,” he said, knowing what she was going to say before she said it. “I’ll go, Buffy.” He turned and looked at her before they entered the building, and the image he made would stay with the Slayer for a long time afterwards—pale skin sweat-streaked, muscles well-defined on his lean form, his curls hanging loose and wet. And the look in his eyes was that of a man going into Hell, and doing so willingly.

~~~~~

Spike finished showering and then went into his bedroom to dress, leaving Buffy in the living room. He wasn’t sure that there was truly anything in the world that would get him to go back into the heart of the Initiative, except that he wouldn’t leave the carcass of a rabid cur in their hands. There was certainly no way he could leave a stranger there, not when he knew what would happen, what they would do.

He pulled the worn duffel bag out from under his bed, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. Spike hadn’t worn the clothing he’d had left over from his life as a vampire for months now. There seemed to be no reason. But now—now he pulled on slightly faded black jeans and a black t-shirt. Then, reaching into the bottom, he found it.

Spike had never much been one for weapons, whatever he had said to Buffy that night at the school. He had always preferred fists and fangs when he could get away with it, and he’d built himself a formidable reputation using them. On occasion, however, there had been need, and he had always liked knives.

He pulled it out of its sheath, the big ornamental knife gleaming in the dim light from the overhead bulb. It had been in a novelty store in New Orleans, over two decades before. He had seen it, and wanted it immediately; despite its beauty, it was sharp as a razor and fully functional. The shopkeeper he’d bled dry, and then he’d taken it and baptized it in blood that very night. So many to atone for…

Spike shook off the memories, and clipped the sheath to his belt in the small of his back, shrugging on his jacket over it. Except for the missing duster, he was Spike again. And it felt so good it was frightening.

Buffy looked up as he exited the bedroom, and there was something different in his eyes. It reminded her of Giles during the affair with Eyghon, as though a curtain had been drawn back and someone else entirely had been revealed. Oddly enough, she found herself comforted, because for the first time she believed that they might actually be able to pull this off.

“Ready?”

He gave her a hard smile. “Aren’t I always?”

They took the DeSoto to Giles’ apartment. “How did they catch him?” Spike finally asked, having yet to hear the story.

“Oz ran into Tara at the dorm. Apparently he—smelled Willow on her.” Buffy belatedly realized that Spike might not have all the details, and that Willow might not want all those details to get out. “You know, he just kind of—I guess he—”

“’s alright, luv,” Spike said, his face softening for the first time. “I know about the two of them.”

Buffy stared at him. “Wait. How come I didn’t know?” At Spike’s impatient look, she sighed. “Anyway, Oz changed right there. He went after Tara, but Riley and some of his guys showed up. Tara tried to tell them, but they weren’t really paying attention.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Spike snorted. “‘Wait, you should know—’, ‘No need to thank us ma’am, catching dangerous animals and making their lives miserable is all part of our duty.’ ‘But please, you have to realize—’, ‘That saving lives is what we do best. Yes, we’ve heard that before.’”

All of this was said in alternating voices, what Buffy could only imagine was supposed to be a damsel in distress and a manly soldier, and she couldn’t keep from giggling. The funniest part was that she had a feeling that he’d probably nailed the scenario right on the head. As much as she liked Riley, she could definitely picture him doing something like that. She sighed. “Something like that. Anyway, I tried to call Riley, but he wasn’t around.”

Buffy looked over at him earnestly. “Spike, you don’t have to do this. We can find another way if we need to.”

“No.” Spike was firm. “Won’t leave anybody I have a passing acquaintance with in that place longer than I have to. Wouldn’t leave my worst enemy in there, to be honest. There’s a different way in, the way they took me. Won’t be easy, but maybe the witches can whip something up.”

The Scoobies, including Tara, were at Giles’ when they arrived. Tara’s face was looking pinched, and she stared at Spike in relief when he came through the door. He couldn’t blame her; she probably thought he could actually pull off the rescue. Spike could tell she was feeling guilty, as though it were her fault, which it most certainly wasn’t. He walked over to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Don’t you worry, ducks. Wasn’t your fault. Besides, we’ll get him out, right as rain.”

Buffy watched as he reassured the girl and wondered at his softness, even as he geared up for battle. It was like watching two people share the same skin. Spike straightened and looked over the others. “We’ll need somethin’ to keep the goons at bay,” he said without preamble. “I can get us in, but there’s bleedin’ security cameras all over the place. Red?”

Willow shook her head, her face pale and worried. “I don’t know of anything that’s going to work for us there, and there isn’t anything I can do about the security. I mean, maybe if I had more time, but it’s been too long already. They could be doing anything to him!”

Her voice rose towards the end, and Buffy knew her friend wasn’t far away from giving into full-blown panic. Spike’s voice cut through her hysteria. “Pull it together,” he commanded. “Boy’s alive, I can tell you that much for sure. He won’t be comfortable, but he’s alive. Tara—” He turned to look at the blonde witch. “What can you do for cloaking spells?”

Everyone but Tara looked surprised when he asked that question. Willow might have protested, but Tara replied with only a slight stutter. “I-I think I have s-something th-that c-could work.”

Spike smiled. “Take you long to work it up?” She shook her head. “Get with Red. ‘magine she’ll insist on goin’ in with us, so make sure she can do what it takes to get us goin’. Any other volunteers for service?”

Xander raised his hand. “You’re not going in without me,” he replied steadily. “Oz is my friend.”

“Thought so,” Spike replied. “You alright with the numbers, Slayer?”

Buffy stared at him. This was generalissimo-Spike she was seeing. This was Spike, the Master Vampire, who ordered minions and made plans and fought battles. This was also a major turn-on. “Sounds like a plan. You know where we’re going?”

He grew still, and Buffy could sense him drawing himself in, much as she did before a major fight. “I know.”

~~~~~

Spike had made no attempt to remember where the Initiative had brought him out into daylight for the first time in several months. He had been much more interested in escaping at the time to want to remember how to go back. He’d gone looking for the entrance just a couple weeks ago though, soon after Walsh had been killed. So much of his past was beginning to feel like a dream, as though it had never happened, that he had wanted to be able to point to a spot. To be able to say, this is where I started my life all over again.

It hadn’t been nearly as hard to find as he thought it might be. That reminded him that his past wasn’t nearly as far away as he might wish it were.

“Here,” he grunted, crouching down next to the manhole cover and trying to lift it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Buffy looking rather amused.

“You want to let the superhero give it a shot?” Spike rolled his eyes and stepped back, watching enviously as Buffy lifted the cover effortlessly. The Slayer turned and looked at her friends. “Willow? Are you ready?”

The redhead nodded and then chanted the words needed to activate the spell pouches hanging around their necks. Tara had explained that the spell makes people not want to look at you. Even if they were spotted on the security cameras, there was a good possibility that the guards watching would feel an aversion to doing anything about it. Cloaking spells, she had added, were something of a hobby for her.

The pouches glowed yellow briefly as the spell took effect, and then Willow gave them all a hopeful smile. “That should do it.”

“Let’s go.” Buffy looked over at Spike, who was staring down into the hole with a strange expression on his face, one she couldn’t name. “Spike? You ready?”

He nodded shortly. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Spike lowered himself into through the opening, his feet finding the latter in the dim, emergency lighting from above. Waiting at the bottom for the others to descend, emotions washed over him in waves, memories of the day he’d escaped, memories from before.

They weren’t going to get him again, that much Spike was going to make certain of. It was the reason he had the knife strapped to his back. He didn’t see himself having any problem using it.

When they were all on the ground, he led the way through the hallways, letting himself move by instinct more than anything else. Spike had no idea where they would keep the wolf, but the place was huge. And it wasn’t as though there were going to be neon signs saying, “This way to rescue your friends.”

Buffy put her hand on Spike’s arm, catching his attention after fifteen minutes of fruitless wandering. “Spike, maybe we should go to plan B. Grab somebody who’s going to know where Oz is. Do you think you could find the head honcho?”

Spike frowned, thinking, and then nodded. “This way.”

They hadn’t gone very far when Spike stiffened, sensing people ahead. Buffy seemed to get the same idea at the same time, because she pushed herself out in front of the group. The soldiers came around the corner of the hallway, seemingly surprised to see the small group of trespassers. An older man was at the forefront, and he looked to be in charge. Unfortunately, the spell might work on cameras and guards, but it wasn’t much good in such close quarters.

There was a moment of mutual surprise, when no one knew quite what to do, but it was over in an instant. The soldiers pointed their weapons at the Slayer and her friends just as Buffy pointed her crossbow at the Colonel, and Xander brought his own weapon up.

It was a Mexican standoff. Neither Buffy nor Xander were ready to kill a human, but the soldiers didn’t know that. And the Initiative boys would willingly follow any orders given, regardless of the consequences. People on both sides were going to die if anyone decided to take action.

“You know who I am?” Buffy challenged the colonel.

“I know who you are,” he replied, distaste in his voice. “This isn’t going to do you any good, you know. Captain Finn is going to stay in the brig. Helping an HST to escape is a court martial offense.”

Xander blinked, and he and Willow exchanged looks from where they stood behind Buffy. “Riley tried to help Oz?” the Slayer asked.

The colonel’s eyes narrowed in recognition of their objective. “You came for the wolf.”

“I guess we’re two for one,” Xander said.

The colonel stared at them in disdain. “Hardly. You’re at a standstill Ms. Summers. You’ll be lucky to get out of here alive. Breaking and entering into a military base is a federal offense. I don’t think anyone will be surprised when we tell them you were shot during the attempt.”

“That’s assuming I don’t kill you first,” Buffy replied flippantly, trying to look as though she really meant it.

The older man seemed to recognize her hesitance. “You wouldn’t. We have very thorough records. Slayers don’t kill humans.”

“What about ex-vampires? What do your records say about them?” Spike’s voice came out of nowhere, just after he put the colonel into a headlock, knife at his throat. “You think I wouldn’t do it?”

Spike had been listening to the threats with the understanding that they were not going to make it out of there alive without drastic action. For months, he had been trying to reconcile what he had been with what he was now. He was William. He was Spike. He was neither.

He was both. William had been a wallflower, unnoticed except at the worst of times. He had long ago learned that it was often best to be overlooked, safer to be passed over. Spike had been a predator, and had known how to move swiftly and silently, taking advantage of the element of surprise, though he often bypassed surprise out of impatience. So he thought William-thoughts, enhancing the cloaking spell inadvertantly, even as the soldiers focused on Buffy. He tensed, inching his way to the side, wanting a clear shot at the colonel, the only non-expendable present.

Somewhere in there, he seemed to have reached a point of precious balance, something that both Spike and William could agree on: you did anything you had to do to protect the ones you cared about.

It took only a second, when all eyes were on the Slayer, and Spike had a wiry arm wrapped around the head honcho’s neck, knife at his throat, asking the crucial question. Would he kill?

Spike angled their bodies so that the other man was a shield. “You want him to stay alive, you bring the wolf and Finn to us,” he commanded. When they didn’t move, he applied a little more pressure with the knife and watched as a single drop of blood welled up and slid down the blade.

“Do it!” the colonel said, suddenly frantic.

Several of the soldiers disappeared back down the hall. Spike stood with the knife still poised. “Bit different, innit?” Spike murmured pleasantly in the man’s ear, almost purring. “To have a killer holdin’ the knife to your throat? ‘ve killed more people than you can count, an’ you thought to turn me back into a human, thinkin’ that would do some good. Did you ever stop to think what kind of damage I might do should I wish it?”

“Spike,” Buffy’s voice came from behind him, as though from a long way away. He wasn’t paying attention to the Slayer anymore, or anything else for that matter. There was only the knife and the man’s throat and the moment. Because if any of the soldiers thought for a moment that he wouldn’t kill, it would all be over.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Spike raised his eyes to see the soldiers heading back towards them, a limping, pinch-faced Oz in their midst. “Harris, take care of him.”

Xander didn’t question his orders, simply moved to help support his friend, pulling him back behind the rest of the group. Riley wasn’t far behind them, coming with his own escort just a few minutes later. “Buffy,” he said, pausing, his eyes going from his ex-girlfriend to Spike, who was holding his commanding officer hostage.

“Riley, we need to go,” Buffy said quietly, looking over at Spike, who seemed to be holding it together. She was worried however; he had a manic look that she hadn’t seen for a long time now.

“If I leave now, I can’t ever come back,” Riley replied, and then his eyes caught Spike’s. He looked at Oz. “I just wanted to hear that out loud.”

“Finn, Slayer, you lead. I’ll bring up the rear.” Spike walked backwards, keeping the colonel’s body in between him and the rest of the soldiers. One of them took a step forward, and he applied a little more pressure to the knife, watching their faces as they saw a thin red line appear and another drop run down the knife blade.

“I’ve done this before,” he reminded them. “And you’re the blokes what held me hostage for weeks. I know exactly how much pressure to give it before I spray the walls with his blood. And I’ll take a few of you lot with me. You want to see him die, take another step forward.”

“Stay,” the colonel croaked, and the soldiers fell back, obviously confused. Spike kept walking backwards until they were out of sight. Then he pushed the officer in front of him, prodding him with the point of the knife.

“Move.” They soon caught up with the others, and Spike forced the colonel into a half-trot as they hurried to get out of there. Riley reached the manhole first, and quickly lifted himself out, keeping watch until the others were safely out. Buffy was the last, and she was watching Spike decide whether or not to kill the man.

It was, perhaps, a more difficult decision than it should have been. Not that he actively wanted to kill the colonel, just that he didn’t think he would feel all that badly if he did. Spike hesitated, his fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. “I could slit your throat for all you’ve done to me and mine,” he said, anger threatening to overwhelm him.

“You don’t want to do that,” the colonel said, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “You won’t be able to return from killing a man in cold blood.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Spike asked incredulously. “You did this to me. I could kill you for that.” He looked over at Buffy, and unexpectedly saw understanding in her eyes. She didn’t want him to kill the man, of course, but she understood everything. His anger, his indecision, his hurt, and Spike couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t felt this way about Faith. With one violent gesture, he hit the colonel across the temple with the knife handle, knocking him out.

“Let’s go,” Buffy said, motioning him to precede her.

They stood in the clear night air, not quite knowing what to do with what had just happened. “You’ll need to take Finn somewhere safe,” Spike said dully. “I’ve—I need some time. I’ll see you later, Slayer.”

“Hey—” Spike turned to see Oz looking at him with an intensity only someone who knew him well might have been able to see. “Thanks, man.”

Spike looked at Oz, at Riley, at the others—they seemed suddenly strange to him, as though he’d never seen them before. “Sure.”

~~~~~

Spike walked for a long time, no destination in mind. He went unmolested, though there was a part of him that wouldn’t have minded being attacked. It was a hard thing to walk into the pit of Hell and find that a demon still dwelt within.

He wasn’t all that surprised to find himself on Giles’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning; the Watcher was one of the few he knew that might understand personal darkness. Giles himself seemed unsurprised to see him. “Spike.” He pulled the door open, wider, and let the smaller man inside. “I wondered when you might show up.”

“How did you know I would?” Spike asked with a touch of belligerance.

Giles made a motion with his shoulders that might have been a shrug. “Buffy came by and told me what happened. She wanted me to keep a lookout for you.” He poured them both a stiff drink, and handed Spike a glass.

“I would have killed him tonight,” Spike said, anger and bewilderment in his voice in equal parts. “I didn’t care.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Buffy.” Spike looked over at him. “She looked at me like she understood, but she didn’t. Not really. She wouldn’t’ve understood if I’d gutted the bastard.”

Giles nodded. “I daresay she would not.”

“It’s not the same,” Spike said slowly. “The bloodlust isn’t there anymore. Don’t want to go out an’ literally paint the town red. But it’s still in there, Rupert. I know—” He swallowed hard. “I know what it would have felt like to slit his throat—just where to put the knife. What it would have looked like, watchin’ the blood spray on the walls. God help me, I can even remember what I would have felt doin’ it, an’ I can’t help but wish I had a little bit of that back.”

“We do not completely exorcise our demons,” Giles said after a long silence in which he filled Spike’s glass a second time. “We bury them, or perhaps harness them for the greater good, but they are a part of who we are and ever will be.” He watched Spike slam the glass back. “You did well tonight.”

“Don’t want to think about it right now,” Spike mumbled, the alcohol hitting him hard on an empty stomach, with his human metabolism. William could never hold his liquor.

Giles poured him another glass, knowing exactly what he was doing. Well, Spike was hardly a minor, so it wasn’t like he was contributing to anyone’s deliquency. Another glass and the ex-vampire would be able to forget for a time that he had been a monster once. Another few days and he would forget what it felt like to let the demon loose. He would lose himself in his own life, in the day to day mundanities of going to work and paying the bills and making out with his girlfriend. Until the next time he had to bring the demon out, and it would be a little easier then.

But until then, he would watch as Spike got drunk and pour him into bed in an hour or two. He would call him into work sick and rib him about his hangover. Giles knew all too well what it was to want to forget for a time. All too well.

Chapter 12: Moments of Truth

“…And in that moment I found myself knowing/That in the end it’s just about you and me/ Nothing smaller or larger/Though dragons are good for your soul/Nothing can be better than baring yourself for another…Open for scrutiny, ridicule and indulgence/Therein lies the balls, and the mind, and the heart…As fear is truly the Mindkiller…When nothing is left…Everything is gained…You see I wish I was a poet/But I know as we go round and round/Though endings are never ever happy/It’s the happy moments along the way/That in the end/Make it…ok.” ~Five for Fighting, “Nobody”

Spike opened the door to find Buffy standing in front of him. “Buffy.”

“Hey,” she greeted him, a little nervous. It had been a couple days since they’d braved the dangers of the Initiative, and she’d been trying to give him his space. Giles had called her the next day to let her know Spike was at his place and safe, but her Watcher had also warned her that she needed to give him some time to recover. Of course, now that she’d given him the requisite time, she had to dash off to L.A. to save Angel’s ass.

He stood aside to let her enter, a silent invitation. “’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “You’re looking less hungover.”

Spike gave her something of a sheepish smile. “I blame Rupert. He’s the one that kept pourin’.”

“And you weren’t drinking?” she teased. Then, more seriously, she asked, “Are you okay?”

He shrugged. “’m alright. Didn’t think I was capable of somethin’ like that anymore. Bit of a shock to find out I could still slit someone’s throat quite happily.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I would have minded him being dead,” Buffy said lightly. “He was a major jerk.”

Spike shrugged. “Not my business to decide those kinds of things. Willow’s friend get off alright?”

“Yeah.” Buffy stood awkwardly, not wanting to take the only chair. The apartment was looking a little more lived-in, but Spike had decided to work on the bedroom first, so there still wasn’t much in the way of seating. “He pretty much left that night.”

“And Willow?” Spike asked quietly, also standing. He was feeling uncomfortable for entirely different reasons. “She okay?”

“She and Tara are still together,” Buffy said.

There was a long moment of silence before Spike said quietly, “Buffy, I don’t know if I can do this, between us. You saw—I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t—” Whatever he was going to say was cut off by Buffy’s lips on his as she kissed him. Quite thoroughly. When she broke it off, they were both breathing a little harder.

“What—?”

“That was to stop you from saying something incredibly stupid,” Buffy said firmly. “Do you really think I didn’t know how you might react going back in there? After what they did to you? What you did, because I asked you to, was probably one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen anybody do. You kept it together, and you got us all out in one piece.” Spike opened his mouth to speak, and Buffy cut him off. “And you better not give me the speech on how I’d be better off without you, because I’d have to kick your ass.”

“Right then,” Spike breathed, still a little shaken from the kiss. “You’re okay then?”

Buffy rolled her eyes at his obtuseness. “Are you forgetting who my first boyfriend was?”

Spike let out a snort. “Never mind then.” He paused, tilting his head to the side to look at her. “What’s wrong, luv? You were lookin’ a bit nervous when you got here, an’ since you’re not breakin’ up with me, that’s not it.”

Buffy winced as she realized that part of Spike’s nervousness was her own fault. “No, not breaking up with you. It’s just—well, it’s funny really, since we just mentioned Angel.” Spike’s face resembled a thundercloud at this point, and Buffy pushed on. “We got a call that Faith is in L.A., trying to kill him. I need to go.”

Spike regarded her steadily for a long minute, finally saying quietly. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I need to,” she replied. “What if—what if it were Drusilla? Wouldn’t you want to go?”

He gave her question some serious thought, but finally shook his head, not quite answering. Drusilla was a part of his past that he’d let go of. There was nothing he could do for her now, nor would she want him anymore. Not as a human. “Don’t think it’s the same, pet. You know that.”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t need your permission to go, Spike.” There was a touch of anger in her voice. “I just thought you’d like to know.”

“You don’t need my permission,” he agreed softly. “But, Buffy, be careful.” Blue eyes met hers, and she realized that he half-expected her to get to L.A. and leap into Angel’s arms again.

She shook her head, placing a palm against his cheek. “Curse, remember? I can’t be with him, even if I wanted to, Spike. Angel’s my past.” She swallowed hard, knowing her next words would put their relationship on a new level. “You’re my future.”

A small glow lit his eyes. “An’ you’re mine, luv.” He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “Stay safe, Slayer. Faith ain’t above playin’ games with your ex.”

“I know what she’s capable of,” Buffy reminded him. “I do have a favor though.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Look in on Riley?” she asked. “I’m not asking you to be friends or anything, but just keep an eye on him. Xander’s going to make the rounds too, but if he needs a hand…”

Spike sighed. He was so whipped. “Only for you.” They shared a sweet kiss. “Come back to me.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

~~~~~

Well, that was a lie, but he’d known that even as she said it. Spike missed her about five seconds after she walked out the door, and if it weren’t for the responsibilities that working and paying bills presented, he’d have demanded to go with her. Not that he didn’t trust Buffy, mind you, but he’d been around her and Angel for long enough to know what that kind of love meant. First loves always stayed with you, whether you wanted them to or not.

It was the insanity of thinking about Buffy and Angel together that was now driving him, Spike was sure. Why else would he willingly go with Xander to check on the soldier-boy? Not to mention the fact that he was another one of Buffy’s exes. It seemed that they’d never be free of Buffy’s ex-boyfriends. Spike sighed. Not only was he going with Harris to deliver clean clothing to Riley, but he’d also prevented the boy from bringing Riley the glow-in-the-dark pants. He was getting way too soft, but he figured if a bloke was stuck in a blown-up high school, he should at least have the dignity of decent clothing.

He was too nice.

“You doing okay?” Xander asked, hearing Spike’s deep sigh. Xander was still trying to get over the look in Spike’s eyes when he’d held that knife to the officer’s throat. He wasn’t sure Spike had been that crazy when he was a vampire. On the other hand, it somehow didn’t bother him all that much. After all, Spike was on their side, and a little crazy was good if you were talking about hanging with the Slayer. Hell, Xander figured he’d gone over the deep end years ago.

“Fine,” Spike said shortly, not wanting to talk about it. Not wanting to talk about anything really. Feelings. The whole group always wanted to know about feelings. Harris wasn’t an exception.

Xander hesitated, and then said, “You know, if you want to wait outside or something while I go in, it’s fine. If you don’t want to see Riley…”

Spike looked at the boy, startled by his perceptiveness. “No. ‘s fine.” There was a long pause. “I miss her.”

Xander thought about Anya being gone for a few days to see her ex-boyfriend, and understood immediately. “She’ll be back soon.”

They walked a little farther, with Xander throwing small glances over at Spike continually. “Spill,” the ex-vampire finally said, semi-amused at Xander’s reticence.

“It’s nothing.” Xander looked at him again. “Okay, well, it’s just—I like Riley, you know? And I like you too. So I can’t help but feel I’m putting myself in the middle of things here by bringing you guys together.”

“We’re not goin’ to exchange blows,” Spike replied, now highly amused.

Xander shrugged. “I know. It’s just that if I were going to visit my girlfriend’s ex, I’d be a little—I don’t know—something.”

“Who says I’m lookin’ forward to it?” Spike demanded. “But ‘s better than stayin’ alone in my apartment, thinkin’ about…” He trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought. “This is better,” he said softly. “Though maybe not by much.”

While they were on the subject, Spike thought he’d broach a question that had been bugging him. It wasn’t as though he actually cared about what Buffy’s friends thought, but he knew how important they were to her, like family really, and he didn’t actually have any family of his own. So, if he was going to try to get along with them, he might as well go all the way. “You okay with it? Me an’ Buffy, I mean. Not that it would change anythin’,” Spike hastened to assure him. “But I was wonderin’.”

Xander shrugged. “It’s not like Buffy’s ever taken my advice on dating anyway,” he said. “But, I don’t know, it’s cool, I guess. At least you know what being the Slayer is all about. That’s one less secret we have to keep. You’ve been in the game for a long time, even if you were on the other team, but you’re human now, which is a good thing.”

“So you’re okay with it?” Spike pressed.

“Yeah,” Xander finally said. “It’s not like I knew Riley that well anyway, so I’m not taking sides, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good,” Spike joked. “’cause I’d hate to think you’re gonna hold me down while he pummels me.”

They locked eyes and relaxed, truly comfortable with each other for the first time. “No pummeling,” Xander agreed. “But maybe a game of pool later?”

~~~~~

Buffy let herself into her dorm room and was disappointed to find it empty. It looked as though Willow hadn’t been back in all the time she’d been gone. She sighed, remembering how she and Angel had fought. Buffy had seen Faith in Angel’s arms and snapped. She should have just gone with it, concentrated on getting the rogue Slayer safely into custody.

But, no. She saw red, and said things. Then Angel had said things, and she’d said things back. There had even been fists involved. At least she hadn’t out and out spilled who her new boyfriend was. The last thing she needed was Angel coming to town intent on kicking Spike’s ass.

Speaking of Spike… Buffy looked around the empty dorm room and decided that it was the last place she wanted to spend her evening. Spike’s place wasn’t that far from the campus. She could be there in fifteen minutes.

Twenty minutes later, Buffy was turning away from Spike’s door dejectedly. Where on earth he would be at this late hour, she had no idea. Unless, of course, he was working late at the gallery. Or possibly hanging with Giles. Or maybe her mother. He did that sometimes.

Buffy winced. Spike was more connected to her life than she was. She’d only gotten about half a block away when she heard someone calling her name. “Buffy!”

She turned to see Spike jogging towards her. He was still dressed for the gallery in charcoal gray pants and a bright blue shirt, even if he was wearing his combat boots with the dress slacks. “Buffy! You just get back in?” he asked coming up to stand next to her.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see you.” Buffy looked away. “I missed you.”

Spike smiled at her. “Missed you too, luv,” he replied softly. “You want to go back to my place?”

“That would be nice,” Buffy said. They started walking back, and Spike linked his hand with hers. “Willow wasn’t around tonight, and I wanted some company.”

“Things didn’t go well with Peaches?” Buffy marvelled at how well he could read her.

She gave a half laugh. “Something like that.” Buffy shook her head. “I got there and found Faith in Angel’s arms…” She gave Spike the entire story, following him into his apartment, stopping only to comment on his new futon, which was hard to miss.

“Got it so we’d both have somethin’ to sit on,” he said. “But go on.”

She finished her story, telling him everything that was said. Yet another benefit to dating Spike: there was no explanation needed about the whole Angel thing. He’d seen all of it.

“Tell the truth, luv,” he said, when Buffy had finally finished. “It wasn’t the fact that Faith was in Angel’s arms, it was that he wouldn’t let you kick her arse into next week.”

She pouted. “Well, kind of. I mean, I really wanted to hurt her, Spike. After what she did to me—”

“I can’t see that it was all that bad, Buffy,” Spike said, smirking when she shot him a betrayed glare. “Admit it. If Riley hadn’t been a blind git and not noticed you weren’t you, I wouldn’t have had a chance.”

Buffy frowned, and then looked uncomfortable. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just—Angel was helping her. He knows what she’s done to me. She’s tried to kill him at least twice.”

“Angel has a savior complex, luv,” Spike replied, stroking her hair. They were both sprawled out on the navy cushions of his couch, her head resting on his shoulder. “He has to save Faith, ‘cause that means he might actually be able to save himself.”

Buffy craned her neck to look up at him. “What about you, Spike? Why aren’t you interested in saving people?”

He laughed. “I have enough trouble getting m’self to work on time an’ not getting killed to worry ‘bout savin’ anyone, luv. ‘sides, innit that your job description?”

Buffy smacked him on the chest. “Spike! It’s not funny.”

Spike sobered and drew her to him again. “People don’t get saved, luv. They save themselves. My guess, Faith wanted to be saved and the poof saw that. An’ he needs to save people enough that he didn’t even think about what it would do to you.” He paused, then added, “That, an’ he didn’t expect you to come walkin’ through his door.”

The Slayer glowered. “Now why do you have to be all reasonable about it? Why can’t you just threaten to beat him up like a good boyfriend?”

Spike smiled, a long, slow smile that showed his dimples. “Never get tired of you callin’ me that,” he confessed.

Buffy shook her head and laughed. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Cheer me up.”

Spike shifted so they could look each other in the eyes, and he brought a hand up to stroke her cheek. “’s my pleasure.”

Buffy could feel a shiver go up her spine as his voice dropped about an octave. He leaned in to capture her lips in a sweet kiss. Pulling back, he smiled, then leaned in again. She would have to say that Spike was pretty much the best kisser ever. He nibbled, he plunged, he came up for air only to trail feathery kisses down the column of her neck. He made love to her with his mouth, until Buffy could think of nothing but the moment and him.

Spike’s hand blazed a heated trail on the smooth skin of her stomach and back, wandering, though never too far. He made sensuous patterns with his fingers, driving Buffy to do her own exploring, pulling the hem of his shirt out of the waistband of his slacks.

The feel of her hands on his belt buckle snapped Spike out of the moment and back into reality. “Wait,” he gasped, as Buffy’s hands skimmed sensitive skin. “Buffy, wait.” He pulled back from her, scrambling to his feet and over into the chair to put a little breathing room between the two of them.

Buffy was still a little dazed from the waves of emotion (along with a healthy portion of lust) and was having trouble keeping up. “Spike? What—”

“We can’t do this,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

Buffy blinked. Last time she checked, “can’t” was definitely not in their vocabulary. They had been doing just fine. “Okay… Huh?”

Spike swallowed. “I can’t do this, luv. How’m I s’posed to look your mum in the eye tomorrow?”

Buffy frowned thoughtfully. She had to admit it was a little awkward, to have her boyfriend working with her mother. On the other hand, she was a grown adult, and it wasn’t as though Spike were deflowering an innocent. “First of all,” she said, answering his question patiently enough for someone who’d just been interrupted, “I’m an adult, and I’m not living at home. Secondly, she’s not going to know unless you or I tell her. So I’m not seeing the problem here.”

Spike flushed. “It’s just—it’s a bit strange, workin’ with your mum and all.”

“Spike, it’s not like—” Buffy cut that statement off before she finished. The only one of her boyfriends that Joyce had known about was Angel. Her mom wasn’t even aware that she had been dating Riley. And bringing up the fact that Joyce knew about her night with Angel was probably just the thing to say to make sure the moment was completely dead. “Mom knows I’m old enough to make my own decisions.” It seemed the best compromise.

He shook his head. “I know, an’ it’s not like my intentions aren’t honorable, but—”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. Honorable intentions? That was a little archaic. Her eyes narrowed as she picked up on his heightened tension, remembering his averted eyes when she’d stayed the night a few days ago. She thought perhaps she might be talking with the part of Spike that would always be William. “What is this really about, Spike?”

Spike looked a lot like a rabbit caught in the headlights. His shoulders slumped, and he replied in a low voice, “’ve never done this before.”

“But you were with Drusilla forever,” she protested. “And I know you weren’t with Harmony for the conversation.”

“As a human,” was his muttered explanation.

She blinked twice, slowly, as she realized what he meant. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” she repeated. “You mean you were a—before you, uh, you know?”

He looked at her glumly. “Yeah, I was a soddin’ virgin before Dru turned me,” he said, filling in her blanks. Of course, it wasn’t as though he didn’t remember what was supposed to go where; William had been a virgin, Spike certainly was not. On the other hand, he wasn’t at all sure what this meant to Buffy, if sex was simply supposed to be casual. The part of him that was still William wanted it to be romantic, special, right.

“That’s good,” Buffy said, trying for cheerful, and probably sounding a lot like she had when assuring Willow that lesbianism was a perfectly legitimate lifestyle choice. “I mean, that’s, you know, a good thing.” What she was really thinking was that Spike had probably slept with fewer people than she had, and he was six times her age. Buffy wasn’t sure what that meant.

Spike stood, suddenly angry. The evening had been going quite nicely, and now he was embarrassed and feeling absurdly guilty. “’s just, I’ve never been with a human, Buffy. An’ I’ve never been—I don’t know what’s different. I don’t—Bloody hell, I sound like a friggin’ ponce.”

Buffy smiled, amused, though he was perfectly serious. “You don’t sound like a ‘ponce,’ Spike, whatever that is. Sit down.”

He ignored her request, remaining on his feet. “’s just, there’s a part of me that wants you so bad I can taste it, Slayer,” he said, desperate to explain. “But there’s this other part of me that isn’t sure. I want—I want this to be right, b’tween us, you know? Spent a hundred years with Dru only to find out it didn’t mean all that much. I want us to be special. I want this to be special.” Spike sighed deeply. “Am I makin’ any sense at all?”

“Tons,” Buffy assured him, because he was. When had sex last meant something “special” to her? Well, it had been special between her and Angel—so special he lost his soul, in fact. Parker had just been a horrible mistake, and Riley—Sex had become a part of their relationship as a matter of course. They had never sat down and talked about it; they had killed the Polgara demon and suddenly they were both ready to tear each others’ clothes off. It had been a natural progression, but now Buffy wondered if the physical part hadn’t rapidly outstripped the emotional connection. Perhaps that was why Riley hadn’t known she wasn’t in her own body. Maybe they’d never had that emotional connection at all.

Buffy couldn’t help but think it was odd that it was Spike who was hesitating, and she was the one who was ready to jump in. After all, wasn’t the woman usually the one who wanted to take it slow?

Spike, for his part, was completely torn. Torn between wanting Buffy any way he could get her, and waiting for the right moment. Wanting there to be a right moment. Wanting to hear that she loved him first. They were dating, but Buffy hadn’t told him how she felt. Neither one of them had used the “l” word yet. And she had just gotten back from L.A., after having a rough visit with her ex, and was coming off a relationship with Riley. There was a small part of Spike that harbored the suspicion that Buffy really didn’t want him, that one of these days she’d realize she’d made a mistake, and it would all be over.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

Buffy shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s nice to not be pressured. We can take our time.”

He smiled in relief. Then, quietly, his voice earnest and low, he said, “You know, don’t you, luv? ‘bout what my intentions are?”

It was Buffy’s turn to look like a rabbit in the headlights. She had a feeling Spike was going to tell her, and she found his intensity almost frightening. The last time a guy had gotten that intense about their relationship, he’d tried to kill her and all her friends. She shook her head mutely. “I don’t leave, Buffy.” Spike’s blue eyes bored into hers. “I won’t leave, ever, ‘less you ask me to, an’ even then I’m not sure I could go.”

“I don’t think I could ask you to.” Buffy reached out a hand to touch his arm from where she sat on the couch. Even across the distance, she could feel the pull. She remembered something from her science class about gravity, that if you got to a certain distance away from an object, its pull was unavoidable, inescapable. Was it called the gravitational well, or something like that? It didn’t matter; she and Spike had somehow slipped into orbit around each other without even knowing it.

Some of the lines in his face eased as he read the meaning behind her words in her eyes. This thing that was between them meant something to her too. “Will you stay tonight?” Spike asked softly. “Just—be with me?”

“Yes.” Buffy let him take her hand, tug her back towards the bedroom. In her heart she couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t mind being with this man forever.

~~~~~

Spike woke early the next morning, before the alarm, and reached over to shut it off to prevent it from waking Buffy. Propping himself up on one elbow, he studied her still face, tracing the contours of cheek and lips with his eyes.

Somewhere along the way, he had lost his heart to this girl, this Slayer. The part of him that was still William would offer her a ring if he thought she might take it. He frowned slightly. It didn’t quite feel right, what they were doing.

Not that he felt being with Buffy was wrong, but it felt like something was missing, like there was intent, but no follow through. When he was human, the first time, there were very strict procedures for courting a woman, and really, that’s what he wanted. He didn’t just want to date, he wanted to make something permanent with her.

Spike reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, watching as her breath quickened and her eyelids fluttered in preparation of waking. She smiled when she saw him, and he thought his heart might stop beating. “’Morning.”

“Good morning, luv,” he replied.

“Whatcha doing?” Buffy asked, her voice still cloudy with sleep.

He smiled at her. “Watching you. I’ve been thinking…” Spike said hesitantly.

“About what? Because you look entirely too serious for this early in the morning,” she teased.

Spike made a movement that might have been a shrug. “’s just that—when I was human, before, if a bloke wanted to call on a girl, he talked to her parents first. Doesn’t seem right that your mum doesn’t know about us.”

“So what happens when she says she won’t let you date me?”

Spike blinked, suddenly worried. “You really think she will?”

“No, Spike,” Buffy replied laughing. “Mom loves you. She’s not going to say no. I just wondered what you would do if she did say no.”

Spike glared at her. “That wasn’t funny, luv.”

“Yeah, it was,” Buffy said. “The look on your face was priceless. But seriously, what would you do?”

“Uh, keep seein’ you and wait for your mum to come around,” he replied. “It would make things a bit awkward though.”

Buffy nodded. “Awkward would be one word. It is a little weird to have my boyfriend working with my mom. And speaking of parents, if you’re going to do this right, you should probably talk to Giles too.”

Spike winced. “You know, this is easier when you only have to do the talk once.”

“You’ll be fine,” Buffy said, smiling. “Besides, better you explaining this than me. In fact, I could get used to this thing where the guy explains it to the parents. Definitely takes the pressure off.”

~~~~~

Spike was going through the pile of invoices when Joyce came into the back. “I wanted to talk to you,” she said.

His head came up, the look on his face a little guilty. “What’s that?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Joyce repeated. “I have another buying trip in a few days, and I just wanted to go over a few things with you.”

“Uh, yeah,” Spike said. “Sure.”

“I also wanted to ask if you had any ideas about our display for this summer,” she continued.

He stared at her. “Me?”

“You,” she replied, amused. “You have a good eye, William, and a strong sense for what people will enjoy. So what do you think?”

Spike leaned back in his chair. “This summer, huh?” He frowned slightly. “Photography,” he said decidedly. “A nice mix of local talent, an’ maybe somethin’ from out of town. Summer’s the time for people takin’ pictures.”

Joyce nodded. “That’s a good idea,” she agreed. “I think I have a couple artists from southern California in mind.”

“Great,” he said, knowing now was probably the best time to talk to Joyce about his relationship with her daughter. “Uh, there was somethin’ I wanted to talk to you about too.” She sat down in the other chair in the office, looking attentive. “’s about Buffy.”

Joyce didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for his explanation. “Way I was raised, it was only proper to ask a girl’s parents if you could call on her. Know it’s a bit different now, but I thought it was only right to let you know Buffy an’ I are seein’ each other.”

“And what are your intentions?” Joyce asked, her face completely serious.

Spike didn’t realize she was teasing him, and he responded with solemnity. “Completely honorable.”

Joyce couldn’t help laughing. Spike was so serious, as if he thought she would really disapprove. “I’m very happy for the both of you,” she said. “But I already knew. Buffy never comes to the gallery; if she was coming here, it wasn’t to see me.”

Spike caught the note in her voice he knew she was trying to hide, the sense that Buffy had forgotten about her. “Well, she wanted to be the one to tell you, but I insisted that she let me,” he lied.

Joyce raised an eyebrow, and he knew he’d been caught out. “I’m fine, Spike. Buffy has her own life now, and that’s the way it should be.”

“But she’ll always need her mum,” he replied, his eyes showing a wisdom that belied the youthfulness of his features. “She may not know it just yet, but she’d be lost without you , Joyce.”

Joyce shook her head. “She wouldn’t be lost. Not when she has someone like you looking after her, William.”

~~~~~

Spike stood outside Giles’ flat and knocked. He’d meant what he said to Buffy. That was the benefit to a society where people didn’t get divorced. He hadn’t bothered asking Buffy if he should talk to her father. From what both she and Joyce had said, the man hadn’t been involved in their lives for a very long time, the wanker. No, if he was going to talk to Buffy’s father, the man to see was her Watcher.

A muffled voice called for him to enter, and Spike pushed the door open to find Giles in the middle of a pile of books. “You know, you shouldn’t just ask people in like that,” he admonished. “Never know who it is you’re invitin’ inside.”

“It’s broad daylight, Spike,” Giles replied huffily. “There is very little chance it would be a vampire at my door.”

“Could be a demon though,” Spike pointed out.

“A demon doesn’t usually need an invitation, as I recall,” the Watcher replied. “What can I do for you?”

“Wanted to talk to you about somethin’.” Spike sat down in Giles’ chair and worried the fabric of his jeans with his fingers. He was supposed to meet Buffy later, and so had decided to change at the gallery. While black was not necessarily the color of choice anymore, he was still more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt. Today it happened to be a blue shirt. Buffy had said she liked him in that color.

“Well?” Giles asked, when Spike didn’t continue.

Spike glared at him. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

Giles wasn’t in the best of moods. He’d been feeling a bit out of sorts for a while now, much as he had when Spike had first come to him. Superfluous. That’s the word for how he felt. “Spike. I’m trying to do important research here.”

“On Adam?” Spike asked. “You’re not goin’ to find anythin’ with his name on it in your books. That’s half our problem right there. Like mixin’ two worlds that shouldn’t have ever been mixed. Science an’ magic. ‘s not right.”

Giles slammed the book shut. “Of course. Now that I know I won’t find anything, I can stop looking. Thank you for your information.”

The ex-vampire gave him a perceptive look. “Rupert, the Slayer doesn’t know how we’re goin’ to stop this thing, either, but we’re goin’ to need everybody on board for this.”

“I’m fine,” Giles replied, in the exact same voice Joyce had used. “What was it you wanted to ask me?”

Spike rolled his eyes. This wasn’t going well, though not through any fault of his own that he could see. “I came to let you know that Buffy an’ I were seein’ each other and to ask for your blessing if you’d give it.”

Giles snorted. “As though she needs my permission.”

“She doesn’t,” Spike agreed. “But it’s the right thing to do, so I’m askin’, even if she wouldn’t.”

“And if I say no?”

Spike shrugged. “I’d have to talk you ‘round,” he admitted. “I can be persuasive when I want.”

Giles laughed. “I would imagine you can. But it’s fine, Spike. Even if she weren’t a grown woman capable of making her own decisions, I have no qualms about the two of you seeing one another.”

Spike nodded. “Good. That’s settled then. There’s somethin’ else, though.”

“What’s that?” Giles asked, tiredly.

“I want you to start trainin’ me,” Spike replied steadily.

Giles stared at him. “What? Now?”

“Yeah, now,” Spike replied. “Before, you said it was about Adam, an’ givin’ me a chance to recover, but you’re goin’ to need all the help you can get with Mr. Bits-‘n-Pieces, and I’m recovered. If Buffy’s not takin’ advantage of your infinite wisdom, then I will.”

The Watcher looked skeptical. “I’m not sure—”

“I am,” Spike interrupted. “I want to help, an’ to do that I need to know what I can do. I assumed bein’ human meant I wasn’t any good to anybody anymore, but that’s not true. Learned that when I went into the Initiative.”

Giles nodded slowly. “Very well then. I must insist that you actually listen to me, however. I will not have insubordination while I’m training you.”

“What? Like you didn’t get from Buffy?” Spike asked facetiously.

Giles’ eyes narrowed. “Do you want the training?”

“I will follow every order you give, oh fearless leader,” Spike replied with a smile.

Giles decided to ignore that. “Then we will start with the quarterstaff.”

~~~~~

Spike was altogether pleased when he left Giles to meet Buffy at her dorm. Despite months of relative inactivity, he’d managed to defend himself quite well, and had even given the Watcher a couple thwaps he wouldn’t soon forget. He had every hope that with regular training, he would even be able to assist Buffy on patrol without putting himself in any real danger.

Whistling softly to himself, Spike walked through Stevenson Hall, approaching Buffy’s door in time to see her trying to unlock it with a trembling hand. “Buffy?”

She turned slowly, and Spike could see that she’d been banged up pretty badly. “Spike, I—”

“Let me get that,” he said, ignoring her protests and taking the keys out of her hand. He unlocked the door and gently guided her inside with one hand on her back. “Sit. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“In the drawer,” she replied, not really wanting to fight him. Spike found the kit and quickly ducked out of the room to wet the washcloth he’d found.

“Hold still.” He tenderly dabbed at the cut on her head, wincing in sympathy as she flinched away. “What happened?”

She breathed out a sigh. “I went patrolling near the area where they found that boy. Adam’s first victim. I ran into Forrest, one of Riley’s buds, and he wouldn’t leave, so we both went into this cave. Adam was there. It’s like he came out of nowhere. I told Forrest, the dumbass, that he should leave, but—Adam got him.” The last part was said so quietly Spike almost didn’t catch it.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault,” he said. When Buffy wouldn’t look him in the eye, Spike tipped her chin up. “Slayer, it wasn’t your fault. He was a soldier. He knew the risks, and he didn’t listen to you. You ask me, he was lookin’ for trouble.”

“I know that,” Buffy replied. When he looked doubtful, she repeated, “I know that. It’s just—we need to stop him, Spike. This has to end.”

He nodded slowly. “Then we’ll go together. You said Adam’s got vamps an’ demons workin’ together, an’ the Initiative is goin’ on overtime. We’ll go lookin’ for a vamp—I still know some of the old haunts—an’ we’ll beat the shit out of him till he tells us what we want to know, or at least how to find it.”

Buffy shook her head. “Spike, it’s too dangerous.”

He gave her a look. “I can take care of m’self, Slayer,” he replied. “Remember?”

“I remember. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Spike drew her close to him so the uninjured side of her head was resting against his chest. “Not goin’ anywhere,” he said. “We’ll give it a bit. You’re hurt. But we’ll go out tonight, when you’re a bit better, yeah?”

“Okay.” They sat there for a while, unmoving except for Spike’s rhythmic stroking of Buffy’s hair. She was relaxed in his embrace, feeling for the first time in a long time that she was the one being taken care of rather than her being the one doing the caring.

There was a knock on the door, and Spike gave her a squeeze around the shoulders. “I’ll get it.” Spike rose and opened the door to find Angel standing in front of him.

“Spike,” the vampire snarled, throwing himself at the invisible barrier. “Where’s Buffy? What did you do to her?”

“He didn’t do anything to me,” Buffy said, coming up to stand behind Spike. “He’s welcome here.”

Angel nearly snarled again, his split lip and bruises livid against his pale skin. “Spike is dangerous. Buffy, you have to let me in.”

“Only if you promise not to touch my boyfriend,” Buffy said sternly. At Angel’s look of surprise, Buffy repeated herself. “Spike is my boyfriend. I don’t let anybody touch my boyfriend. Do I have your word?”

“Yeah,” Angel replied sullenly.

“Then come in, Angel.” No sooner had she said the words than Angel was through the barrier with his hands around Spike’s neck. “Angel! I said—”

Angel’s hands came off just that quickly. “You’re human,” he said, in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah,” Spike said, self-righteously straightening his clothing. “Didn’t you hear two heartbeats, Peaches? Or are you slippin’ in your old age?”

Angel was still in too much shock to come up with a decent comeback. “You’re human.”

“Think we went over this,” Spike said.

“How?” he asked.

Spike snorted. “Combination Mohra demon blood an’ the Initiative.” He gave Angel another look. “Who’d you run into?”

Angel shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not life and death. Mohra blood?” As the information sunk in, he looked from Spike to Buffy with the slow realization that Spike had everything he’d given up. As Angel processed that bit of news, Spike read the emotions flitting across his face.

“You knew about the demon blood,” Spike said.

The look on Angel’s face told both he and Buffy that he’d hit the nail on the head, and Spike knew that there was probably more to the story than that. But Angel just shook his head. “Mohra demons don’t come from this dimension. It’s almost impossible to capture or kill them.”

“Well, luckily for us, the Initiative managed it,” Buffy said. She could sense that Angel wasn’t telling her the entire story as well, but something told her she didn’t want to push it. The same little voice that told her if she did know, she’d have to stake somebody. “What are you doing here, Angel?”

The vampire tore his eyes away from Spike. “I wanted to apologize. We didn’t leave things very well last time. I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t have much time.”

The Slayer frowned, knowing from experience that hearing Angel use that tone of voice wasn’t a good thing. “What’s going on?”

Riley barrelled through the open door, steadying himself against Willow’s desk and pointing a gun in Angel’s direction. “Buffy, he’s dangerous. You can’t trust him.”

Buffy and Spike both looked from one battered face to the other. “I can’t believe this,” she said flatly. “What the hell is going on?”

“This was a mistake,” Angel said, trying to placate her. Spike had a hard time not laughing. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Buffy this pissed off, and he’d seen her angry. Somebody was going to be hurting over this one.

“No, the mistake was you coming back to Sunnydale,” Buffy replied, furious.

Angel looked over at Riley. “Put the gun down.”

“I don’t think so,” Riley replied. “It’s pretty much all I’ve got left. Buffy, he attacked four of my men. He’s dangerous.”

Spike raised an incredulous eyebrow. “If Angelus was up to his old tricks, you’d be dead, mate. ‘sides, little gun like that won’t even slow him down ‘fore he snaps your neck, Finn.”

“And they attacked me first,” Angel added.

“He’s a vampire. He’s evil.” Riley seemed quite sure about that.

“Angel’s not evil and he’s not going to hurt anybody.” She looked at the vampire. “Tell him.”

Angel gave Riley a cold little smile. “I don’t know. I might hurt you.”

“Try it,” Riley invited.

“You can hardly stand.”

“Trigger finger feels okay.”

“That’s just about enough!” Spike exploded. “I was havin’ a nice moment here with my girl ‘fore you lot showed up an’ ruined it. Buffy was hurt earlier, an’ you’re both makin’ it worse.” He turned to glare at Riley. “Put the gun down.”

“But—”

“Put. The. Gun. Down. Now.”

Something in Spike’s eyes warned Riley that he was dead serious, and he lowered his weapon slowly. “Right then. Hallway, now.”

Riley looked like he was going to argue, and Spike grabbed his arm. “We’re goin’ outside. Angel—” He looked at the vampire, a fire in his eyes. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

Buffy watched as Spike firmly steered Riley out into the hallway and said a silent word of thanks. He knew her so well, and she was glad she could count on him. She waited until Spike had shut the door and then faced Angel. “So, you and Spike?” he asked.

“Yeah. Me and Spike.” Buffy hesitated. “He’s been human for a while now, but this—between us—is pretty new.”

“That’s—good.” Angel frowned. “Look, Buffy, I’m sorry about this. I came to apologize, and…”

“What happened with Riley?” she asked.

Angel shrugged. “I got jumped by some of his men, and he ended up in the middle. He wasn’t real forthcoming with the benefit of the doubt.”

Buffy sighed. “Put yourself in his shoes, Angel.”

“Things are pretty tense around here,” he observed.

She nodded. “They are.”

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” he said suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

She shook her head. “We both said some things to regret. You were right, Angel. We’re at a different place now, both of us.”

“And you have Spike.” Angel looked over at her. “I want you to be happy, Buffy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“He makes me happy,” she said quietly. “He knows me.”

Angel shook his head, laughing a little. “Who knew?”

“I don’t know. Not me.”

“Do you want my help?” he asked.

Buffy shook her head. “No. I think it would just complicate things more than they are already.”

“All right.” Angel moved to the door, his hand on the doorknob. “You know, Buffy…Spike.”

“Yeah?”

“I told you once, he doesn’t give up.” Angel smiled a little.

Buffy smiled in reply. “I know.”

Angel nodded, and walked out the door. Spike was standing in the hallway alone. “Riley?”

“Left.” Spike shrugged. “Actually, I convinced him he didn’t want to stick around. Boy’s s’posed to be keepin’ a low profile anyway.”

“You hurt her, I’ll be back,” Angel promised.

“If I hurt her, I’ll stand still for you,” Spike replied. There was a moment of silence, and then Spike said, “You know, ‘bout the pokers…wish I could say I was sorry for that.”

Angel almost laughed. “Take care of yourself, Spike. Humans are a little more breakable.”

“An’ you’re speakin’ from experience,” Spike said knowingly. “I’ll do that.”

~~~~~

It actually didn’t take them nearly as long to find a vampire with information as it should have. A scrawny excuse for a member of the undead literally ran across their path almost as soon as they started hunting, and he practically threw himself at their feet. Buffy got in a few good blows, the vampire pitched a few computer disks at their feet, and then scrambled away as quickly as possible. Buffy might have gone after him, but Spike held her back. “Let him go, luv. That wasn’t an accident.”

“No, that was Adam trying to get our attention,” Buffy said. “It shouldn’t have been that easy.”

Spike looked around. “So what are we going to do about it?”

“Let Willow take a look at these and hope it gives us the information we need,” Buffy replied. “What else can we do?”

“It’s a trap,” Spike objected.

She shrugged. “We have to stop Adam, though. So what if it’s a trap? We’ll just have to find a way to use that against him.”

Spike shrugged. “If you say so, luv. Let’s get these to Red and see what we can do from there then.”

When they got to the Watcher’s apartment, Spike could feel that there was something in the air that was off. In the past, when he’d spent time with the group, or when he was fighting them, they’d been a tight-knit bunch. Their closeness was one of the reasons he’d never been able to defeat Buffy, but now… He was vaguely reminded of how it was after Angelus had returned, when Dru had left him to his own devices for her “Daddy.” Of course, it wasn’t at all the same, but that’s what it reminded him of.

Willow got to working her techno-magic on her laptop, making a worried face when she saw the complicated encryption. “Well, this isn’t good.”

Buffy came over to stand behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“The data is encrypted,” Willow explained. “And it’s a little complicated.”

“So how long before you can un-crypt it?” Buffy asked.

Willow gave her a look that said it would be better if she didn’t ask. “Days. Weeks. Months probably wouldn’t be a bad estimate.”

“We don’t have that long,” Buffy protested. “Adam obviously has something in mind, and we need to have a counter-plan.”

Spike leaned back in his chair, watching the entire thing. Giles and Xander were both looking unhappy, and Anya and Tara were beginning to get twitchy. They were smart girls; they knew when there was a storm brewing.

“Working as fast as I can here,” Willow replied huffily.

Buffy frowned. “Okay, well Adam was at the cave for a reason. Maybe I could go back there and scope it out, figure out where he went.”

“Oh, right, so you can try and get yourself killed again?” Xander objected. “You’re not going by yourself.”

Buffy shook her head. “You’d just get hurt, Xander. It’s better if I go by myself.”

Spike bit back a sigh. He could already see where this was going. Giles’ dissatisfaction earlier that evening, Xander’s complaints the other night while they’d played pool, how no one thought much of him. Red’s hiding her new life from her friends.

“You haven’t been training,” Giles said, disgruntled. “Adam will kick your ass.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, and she stared at her Watcher. “I will not. And to-today was just a fluke.”

“Enough.” Spike stood. He had to be up early tomorrow to open at the gallery, and he wasn’t entirely happy with the situation himself. What he’d really wanted was a nice quiet snog with his girl, involving plenty of making out and wandering hands. Instead he got fighting. Riley and Angel, now the Scoobies and the Slayer. Well, he had better things to do and more important places to be.

“You’re all a bit pissed at each other. You haven’t properly talked for months, an’ you’ve all got your separate lives.” He met each of their eyes in turn. “My advice? Hash it out among yourselves and get ready to fight the good fight. Slayers die young ‘cause they don’t have anybody watchin’ their backs. You lot have already beaten the odds. So what if you’ve all got separate lives? Doesn’t mean anythin’ in the long run.”

Spike picked up his jacket and got ready to leave. “Spike?” Buffy called.

“I’ll be at my place should you need me, luv. Let me know the plan, an’ I’ll be happy to participate, but I’ve got an early day tomorrow, an’ I don’t need to waste my time sittin’ around, listenin’ to you argue over who’s doin’ more, or who doesn’t appreciate who.”

He walked out into the night air and took a deep breath. There was something to say about solitude, he thought. There was definitely something to say about solitude.

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