Chapter 13: United We Stand

“Wherever you go, you know I’ll be there/If you go far, you know I’ll be there/I’ll go anywhere, so I’ll see you there/You place the name, you know I’ll be there/You name the time you know I’ll be there/I’ll go anywhere, so I’ll see you there/I don’t care if you don’t mind/I’ll be there not far behind/I will dare, keep in mind/I’ll be there for you/Where there’s truth, you know I’ll be there/Amongst the lies you know I’ll be there/I’ll go anywhere, so I’ll see you there./If you should fall, you know I’ll be there/To catch the call, you know I’ll be there/I’ll go anywhere, so I’ll see you there.” ~Greenday, “Poprocks and Coke”

Giles entered the gallery, looking around cautiously. He had never thought to come here before the night of the band candy, and he had never been comfortable visiting after that. It was too bad really, because it was a place he might have spent many enjoyable hours.

“Mr. Giles? Can I help you?” Joyce came out of the back, giving him a hesitant smile.

He smiled in reply. “Yes, actually, you can call me Giles, or Rupert if you prefer.”

“Of course.” Joyce shook her head, laughing a little. “I suppose we should be on a first name basis. After…”

“Yes, well, I suppose so.” Giles cleared his throat and didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I was actually looking for William. Is he around?”

“He’s running an errand,” Joyce explained. “Can I do anything for you?”

Giles shook his head. “No. No, I shouldn’t think so. I have a feeling we’re going to need his help, however. Spike has been quite—helpful lately.”

“He really has,” she agreed. “I don’t know what I might have done without him these last few months.”

Giles smiled and looked down at his shoes. “I think we might all say the same.” There was a lull in the conversation, as neither of them seemed to know what to say. “Joyce, I know we haven’t always been friends, but I wanted you to know that I have the utmost respect for you.”

“Likewise,” Joyce said sincerely. “In some ways, I almost feel as though we have two children in common now.”

“Indeed, I suppose we do in a way.” Their eyes met in mutual understanding, and suddenly they both knew that they would part this time as friends, and not just acquaintances. Giles opened his mouth to say something else, perhaps to ask a question, but he never got the chance.

The bell over the door rang as Spike came back in. “Rupert? ‘s everythin’ alright?”

“Quite alright,” Giles assured him. “But we’re setting things up, and we need all the help we can get.”

Spike cast a look back at his boss. “Joyce…?”

“Go, William,” she said. “Be careful.”

“Always,” he replied, giving her a cheeky grin and a quick peck on the cheek. Giles followed him out of the gallery. “Did you lot work things out then?”

“Something like that,” Giles said. “At least we agreed that we needed to work together right now.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “We’re goin’ to need a little more than that to defeat Adam. We need the whole team on board here.”

“The ‘team’ is on board,” Giles replied stiffly. “We’re still working out the details, but Willow managed to decode the disks early this morning.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Spike said sarcastically. “We’ve got the information that’s goin’ to lead us into a trap, an’ we’re all just fine with bein’ pissed off at each other.”

“Spike…”

“No,” Spike said firmly. “You’re the Watcher—”

“Not anymore,” Giles muttered.

Spike ran right over that comment. “You’re the Watcher, which means you get to be the adult in all this. What everybody seems to forget is that they’re children. Children who’ve started down different roads, an’ haven’t figured out what that means yet. You’re the adult here, you know ‘bout changes.”

The Watcher stared at him for a moment, and then sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” was Spike’s rather cocky reply. “Buck up, Rupert. Might not know it now, but they’ll always need you. An’ your books.”

Giles glared at him, though there was a suspicious twinkle in his eye. “Pillock.”

“Git.”

~~~~~

“Riley’s a no-show, huh?” Spike asked, as they got to Giles’ apartment.

The older man shook his head. “Buffy went to the high school, but he’s nowhere to be found. No one else has seen him either, not since last night.”

“And Harris and his girl? They goin’ to be in on this?”

Giles shrugged. “Xander seemed to think he would be here. I’m not sure that we really need Anya, however. Just the core group.”

“An’ I’m part of the core group, huh?” Spike asked, a hint of wonder interlaced with smugness in his voice.

Giles looked over at him. “You’ve proven yourself more than once, Spike. So, yes, as a matter of fact, you are one of us now. As frightening as that sounds.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Spike asked.

“Now?” Both men turned to see Willow standing in the doorway. “Just Buffy and Xander. Unless Buffy has news, we’ve got all the information we’re going to have.”

There was an awkward silence as they waited for the Slayer to arrive. Willow had left a message at the dorm for her to come to Giles’ place whenever she got done with her patrol. They might have put a lid on their disagreement of the previous night, but that didn’t mean the tension wasn’t there. Spike could sense it simmering just below the surface, a heady maelstrom of resentment and mistrust. It only got thicker when Xander arrived, a sullen look on his face as he tried not to meet anyone’s eyes.

Spike sighed. He wasn’t used to being the one in a position to smooth things over; in the past, he’d always been the one to stir things up. “Does anyone here think Harris is a loser?” he asked to the room at large.

Three pairs of eyes swung around to stare at him, startled. “Huh?” Willow asked.

“Does anybody here think Harris is a loser?”

“Of course not,” Willow said indignantly. “Xander’s never been a loser.”

“And Rupert?” Spike asked casually. “You lot think you could do without him?”

Xander frowned. “Without the G-Man? No. I mean, he’s the only one that usually knows anything.”

“What about Willow? You all think she’s losin’ her mind, what between all the witchcraft, an’ the new girlfriend?”

Giles shook his head. “No. Willow’s ability is much appreciated, and Tara seems like a perfectly nice girl.”

Spike smirked. “Good. Now that we’ve gotten that all cleared up, we can move on.”

Just then, Buffy came through the door. Looking around at the rather bemused expression on all her friends’ faces, she had to ask, “Okay, so what’d I miss?”

“Harris isn’t a loser, Willow’s still alright, an’ you’d be lost without Rupert. I miss anythin’?”

Buffy stared at him. “What?”

Spike didn’t really reply. “We’re just movin’ past last night’s little discussion an’ making war plans. You got anythin’ to add to that, luv?”

The Slayer took in his smug look, glanced over at Giles, who seemed rather sheepish, and her friends, who were looking rather bemused themselves. She shrugged. “Spike and I are in a serious dating relationship. And he’s really old fashioned.” Buffy grinned at him and turned to Willow, who was trying very hard to hide a snigger. “What have we got, Will?”

“I managed to get the computer disks decoded. Well, actually, they pretty much started decoding themselves,” Willow stated. “It’s pretty clear that someone wanted us to have that information.”

“Adam,” Buffy stated flatly. The atmosphere in the room was rapidly turning serious. “He’s moved out of the cave he was using as his lair. Whatever he’s planning, it’s going to happen soon. What was on those disks, Willow?”

Willow frowned in concentration, her nose wrinkling. “Well, a bunch of stuff that we already knew about 314, but also there’s something there about a final phase. Apparently, Adam’s going to construct a bunch of creepy cyber-demons just like him.”

“Oh, that’s fun,” Xander commented. Everyone was leaning in now, interested, and Spike noticed the change in the room. This was the reason why Buffy and her friends had always been able to defeat him. Give them a challenge, and there was no breaking them apart. Presented with an outside enemy, and they were ready for a fight, completely united.

“Okay, so where’s this construction going to take place?” Buffy asked.

“Somewhere in the Initiative, in a secret lab,” Willow explained. “The disks didn’t say exactly where.”

Buffy let out a breath. “Well, I’ll give the demon his due. He gave this a lot of thought.”

Spike nodded, knowing where she was going with her line of thinking. “Because the demons were goin’ after the Initiative boys an’ leavin’ you alone,” he stated. “They wanted inside.”

“My guess is that Adam’s going to let them loose on the soldiers,” Buffy agreed.

“Demons versus soldiers. Massacre, massacre,” Xander said, whistling under his breath.

Giles nodded. “The perfect Trojan horse.”

Willow made a face. “And then Adam has a neat pile of body parts that he can make new demons out of. Diabolical, yet…gross.”

“Does anyone else miss the Mayor ‘I wanna be a big snake?’” Xander asked facetiously. Spike couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The boy never could resist the opportunity to crack a joke during a serious moment.

“I’ve got to shut him down now, Giles,” Buffy said quietly. “There’s no way I can let this happen.”

“Perhaps we should warn the Initiative?” Giles suggested.

Buffy shook her head. “They’re not going to listen to us, or Riley, since he’s a deserter. If we could even find him to ask him to pass on the message.”

“Okay, I’m confused again,” Xander said. “Adam’s got this evil plan, but he seems pretty anxious for you to know about it. Isn’t he worried you might kill him?”

“No, he’s really not.” Buffy bit her lip. She was used to arrogant evil guys. The Master, Spike, the Mayor, Angelus: they had all been pretty cocky until she shut them down. Adam worried her, however. She had watched Forrest shoot him with his Initiative-issue weapon, and the cyber-demon had lapped it up. He really did seem indesctructible.

She felt Spike’s hand slip into hers, and she glanced over at him. He’d come to stand behind her, and she could feel the strength of his presence. “He doesn’t have to be worried ‘bout you killin’ him, luv,” the ex-vampire reminded her, reading her mind. “Him bein’ worried doesn’t change the fact that you’re gonna rip him into tiny pieces.”

Willow grinned. “No kidding. The Mayor thought he had it under wraps until we blew him up. We’ll take Adam down just like we’ve taken down every other bad guy.”

“I’m not sure blowing Adam up is going to work in this case,” Buffy said, smiling a little at the support. “According to Riley, he has some sort of uranium core near his spine. That’s what we need to get to.”

“Great, so we ask him to lay down while we perform exploratory surgery?” Xander asked sarcastically.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Or, you could hold his arms while Buffy rips it out.” He smirked a little at Xander’s glare.

“Oh! Maybe a spell?” Willow suggested. “You know, one that holds him down?”

“A paralyzing spell?” Giles asked. He stood and grabbed a book leafing through it. Finding the one he was looking for, the Watcher shook his head. “Only I can’t perform the incantation for this.”

Willow’s brow furrowed. “Right. Don’t you have to speak it in ancient Sumerian or something?”

Giles looked slightly offended. “I do speak ancient Sumerian. But this spell must be performed by an experienced witch, and within close range of the object in question.”

“An’ they don’t teach Sumerian in schools these days?” Spike asked glibly. “What is this world coming to?”

“So what we need,” Xander said, “is combo-Buffy. Her with her Slayerness, Giles with his language know-how, and Willow with her witchy-power.” At Giles look, he held up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know, I’m just full of good suggestions.”

“Actually, you are,” Giles responded, going to his bookshelf for yet another book. As Giles explained the adjoining spell to them, Spike got the sinking feeling that he was being left out of things. Giles was mentioning heart, mind, spirit and hand, but that didn’t leave a role for ex-vampires.

He raised a cautious hand after a while. “Uh, an’ what about me?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him. “Oh, Spike,” Willow said, her voice faltering slightly. “You know, there’s only room for three, and, you know, we’ve uh…” The redhead trailed off as she realized that telling Spike that they didn’t need him wasn’t the most tactful way to do it.

“Maybe you should stay behind,” Buffy suggested tentatively. “There’s going to be a lot of danger, and—” Spike’s look cut off whatever else she might have said. “Or not.”

Spike’s eyes were glinting dangerously. “’m not lettin’ you go in there without me. Period. ‘f nothin’ else you can use the extra muscle.” He looked over at Giles. “Besides, what about while you lot are doin’ the spell? What happens to you?”

Giles blinked, unsure of where the question was going. “Well, we will be connected to Buffy, with her in a mystical sense.”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, got that. But what happens to you lot? If somethin’ comes after you?”

There were looks shared all around. “Uh, yeah,” Xander said, realizing that they had just been about to walk into a death trap, immobilize themselves, and hope for the best. “Maybe Spike should come along. To watch our backs.”

“An excellent idea,” Giles concurred, as Willow nodded.

Buffy still looked uncertain. “Spike, I don’t know. We’re talking about walking right into a war zone. If you’re there—”

“I can watch out for your friends.” Spike gave her a look. “I’m doing this, Slayer. End of story.”

They locked eyes, and to the rest of the room it appeared that they were having a staring contest. Finally, Buffy gave him a slow nod. “You’re right. Somebody needs to look out for them while I’m doing my thing. You know, killing Adam.”

Spike mock sighed. “An’ look how far the Big Bad has fallen. Reduced to a bloody babysitter.” Three indignant “heys” greeted his comment.

~~~~~

Spike finished tightening the straps on Buffy’s harness. The Slayer could have done it herself, but she could feel the worry radiating off of him. She knew very well that there were moments he wished he was still a vampire, and that this was probably one of them. Wished that he had his strength and speed so that he could hope to help her defeat Adam, instead of being “reduced to a bloody babysitter.” Even though it was supposed to be a joke, he had been half-serious, wishing he could be at her side.

“Who’s gonna tighten your straps?” Buffy asked him.

He gave her a dirty look. “I can tighten my own straps, luv.”

“I’m going to be fine.”

“I know.” He paused to lay his forehead against hers. “I hate this,” he whispered. “I hate bein’ of no bloody use.”

“You’re not useless,” Buffy replied heatedly. “You’re taking care of my friends so I don’t have to worry about them..”

“Which is why you didn’t want me along.” Spike raised a scarred eyebrow, his expression telling her exactly what he thought of that sentiment.

Buffy smiled. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Spike’s face smoothed and he cocked his head to one side, studying her face. “If I say anythin’ right now,” he whispered, “’s gonna seem like ‘m sayin’ it because we might all die. So I’m not sayin’ it now. I’ll have to tell you later.”

“Tell me what later?” she asked.

“This.” Spike captured her lips in a sweet kiss, nibbling at her lower lip. They broke away from each other reluctantly. There had been so little time to spend with each other, in their own company and away from the others. Buffy wished they’d had just a little more time. Their eyes met, and Spike smiled, just an upward turn of one corner of his lips. He released her, and Buffy walked to the edge of the elevator shaft.

“Watch your back,” she said, before she and Willow began climbing down.

Willow threw her friend a smug look. “I knew you two would be perfect for each other.”

“What?” Buffy asked.

Willow smiled. “Come on. Spike has it so bad for you, it’s not even funny. And I don’t think I ever saw you look at Riley like that.”

“Yeah. Spike’s something special,” Buffy agreed. She paused, wanting to get things out in the open. Spike had forced the issue earlier, but she wanted to lay things to rest herself. “Will, I’m sorry things got strained between us.”

“It’s okay, Buffy. I mean, the first year of college, you can’t keep the high school gang together always.”

“But I want to! Will, I miss you, and Xander, and Giles. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own life, with Riley and the Initiative and then Spike, I lost track of everybody else. I think Spike was trying to tell me that, but I wasn’t listening very well.”

Willow gave her friend a sympathetic look. “Buffy, we all messed up. I kept secrets. I should have told you about Tara, but I was scared.”

“You can tell me anything,” Buffy assured her. “I love you. You’re my best friend.” They hugged across the distance, Willow echoing Buffy’s words, even as their combined weight sent them plummeting.

The two girls lay on the floor, giggling together. Buffy thought that it felt like old times. They pounced on Xander as soon as his feet hit the ground. “We love you, Xander!”

Though bewildered, the boy wasn’t all that upset at his position as the sandwich filling. “Hey, guys!” he shouted, calling up to Giles and Spike. “I think you might want to get down here for this.”

~~~~~

Spike was fairly certain the colonel would have found some way to kill him if the lights hadn’t suddenly dimmed. They had all made it down the elevator shaft, into the Initiative itself, only to be greeted by several gun-toting soldiers. To say that their commanding officer had not been happy to see them again was an undestatement. To say that he was looking at Spike with fear and loathing would have been right on the mark.

For his part, the ex-vampire was happy to stay out of the way and let the Slayer and her friends do most of the talking. Spike just didn’t want to give the soldiers an excuse to shoot him, because he was certain they’d have no qualms about doing so. While he certainly wasn’t above adding his own sarcastic commentary (he’d had a few comments to make about group hugs earlier), one wrong word would get him zapped. Been there, done that, didn’t need a repeat experience.

So, even though the lights going out wasn’t necessarily a good sign, it also made it a lot harder for the soldiers to aim, and thus possibly hit, their targets. Spike heard one of the soldiers inform the colonel that the main power grid and backup were down. And then came the news that the containment areas had been breached.

Spike had some idea of what it means to let a bunch of demons loose like that. Their inbred need for violence and mayhem would be magnified by days’ worth of inactivity. The colonel’s stubborn refusal to believe that a mere slip of girl would be capable of doing him any good at all was going to get him killed. Him, and who knew how many more of their men.

Spike shared a look with Buffy in the dim emergency lighting, and they separated slightly as the colonel marched out, all but two of the soldiers following. The Slayer took out the one closest to her, and as the second turned to help his comrade, Spike pulled his special knife out from his holster at his back and clocked him over the head with the pommel. The soldiers had disarmed them, of course, but Spike knew how to hide a weapon. Although, he’d need his ax back.

He stripped the unconscious soldiers of their weapons, tossing a gun to Xander, and taking his ax back. Even as he did so, Spike realized that the violence got easier. It became easier to distinguish between the love of the challenge and the adrenaline rush. Violence done in aid of the right thing was nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, he supposed it put him on the road to being a hero, as unlikely as that seemed. Or, perhaps not a hero, but simply a man who knew the right thing to do and did it. That was something to aspire to.

“We’ve got to find Adam,” Buffy said, even as Willow moved over to the computer console.

“I’m on it,” Willow replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

Giles frowned. “The enjoining spell is touchy. It’s highly volatile, and dangerous. We can’t risk it being interrupted. We’ll need someplace quiet to do it.”

Spike and Xander shared a look. “Quiet?” Spike asked. “You wanted quiet, you could have stayed at your place.”

Giles gave him a look. “We’ll need to be close to Buffy.”

“Right.” Spike shook his head and muttered, “Guess that’s where I come in then.” As they waited for Willow to locate Adam, the sounds of a war filtered up to them. Spike had no idea how they were even supposed to get to where Adam was in the first place. Of course, that’s probably just what the cyber-demon wanted—if they got killed on their way to see him, no skin off his nose. If his nose had skin. Spike wasn’t any too sure about that.

“How are we coming, Will?” Buffy asked.

“Almost there,” the witch said. “Hold on. There it is. See all those air ducts and conduits running to that room?” She pointed to the schematic on the screen.

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. So?”

“So there’s nothing there,” Willow explained. “Look.”

“It’s Adam,” Buffy said.

“Are you sure?” Giles asked.

Buffy nodded absently, already thinking of the battle ahead. “I’m sure. Willow, can you unlock it?”

Willow shook her head. “I don’t need to. All the door locks have been disengaged except for the ones that lead out.”

Xander pulled a face. “Demon open house.”

“Guess we get to close it down then,” Spike said pragmatically.

Buffy nodded. “We stick together. Spike? You think you can take the rear?”

Spike hefted the ax that he’d brought along. “I think I can manage it.”

There was a mad dash through the “demon open house,” as Xander had called it. Soldiers and demons were at each others’ throats in a free-for-all that rivalled any of the scenes of chaos he’d witnessed (or created) in his century and more of living. Spike used his ax, a part of him glorying in the mayhem that surrounded them. This was a piece of him that would not die; the demon who called himself Spike had left a deep imprint on the man, and the man who remained was beginning to accept that.

His muscles and reflexes as a human were as good as they had been as a vampire. Not as strong, or as fast, of course, but almost as good. Sometimes knowledge is enough. It was his knowledge that told him that the Kraylor demon could only be killed by putting out its eyes, and that’s where he hit it with his ax. Spike sent his knife deep into the body of a Polgara demon with his left hand, even as his right hand eviscerated a Dullar. He whirled, ducking, to get away from a mean set of claws, and in the next moment lept over a spiked tail. He’d cracked at least two more skulls and slit a throat before they reached the other side.

Spike gloried in the mayhem.

The last one through the door, Spike helped Buffy push a cart in front of it to prevent unwelcome intruders. “This gonna be alright, Watcher?” Spike asked.

Giles looked over at the ex-vampire, thinking that he made quite a picture. He had demon goo of some kind smeared over his gray t-shirt, and his black pants had a rip across one knee. It was the look in his eyes, though, one that reminded Giles very much of the vampire he had known. Somehow the resemblance only made him feel safer. “It will do.”

“As long as we don’t get blown up or anything,” Willow commented.

Xander grinned. “And what are the chances of that happening?”

“How long before the ritual takes effect?” Buffy asked Giles, ignoring the quips of her friends. The generalissimo attitude caught Spike’s attention, and he couldn’t help smiling. He loved it when the Slayer took charge like that. Strength in a woman was a turn-on for him.

“Five minutes, give or take,” Giles said.

“All right. Barricade the door after me.” She looked at Spike for a long time, their eyes saying what they could not put into words.

Xander grabbed her arm, and spoke Spike’s thoughts. “Buffy, I still don’t like you going in alone.”

The Slayer smiled at him. “I won’t be.” Her eyes caught Spike’s for one last look, and then she was gone. He helped the others block the door, and then stood back as they prepared for the spell.

“I’m not sure what this will look like, or what effect it will have on you,” Giles told him frankly, pulling him aside for a brief moment before the chanting began. “It’s imperative that you do not interrupt, however, no matter what happens.”

Spike nodded, swallowing hard. Magic typically made him a bit nervous; there was always a price to pay, after all. Magic of this magnitude made him doubly nervous, because he’d seen spells like this go awry before. He hated to think he might have to watch it go bad and not be able to do anything. The thought of the four of them being stuck together for eternity just wouldn’t leave his mind. Giles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and then went back to take his place in the triad.

He watched, a silent observer, as Giles lit a candle, and Willow began chanting. “The power of the Slayer and all who yield it. Last to ancient first, we invoke thee. Grant us thy domain and primal strength. Accept us in the power we possess. Make us mind and heart and spirit joy. Let the hand encompass us. Do thy will.”

Spike couldn’t help but feel a little awe as Willow, Xander, and Giles all put their cards down in turn. He also couldn’t help but envy their union with the Slayer. They would be one with Buffy in a way he would never know. Even though there might soon come a day when he could celebrate a union with her in a different way entirely, they would still have a history, a unity that he would never be able to match.

Willow spoke the words that sealed the spell, and Spike could feel the difference in the room. And even though he was not supposed to be a part of it, he could still catch a sense of what was going on at the edges of his mind. He could almost taste their essences, feel the power that each of them possessed. Even Xander, for all his seeming uselessness, had a part to play in this game. They each had something to offer.

What did he have to give, besides his now-fragile strength? It was a thought that sometimes woke him in the middle of the night, that made him wonder how Buffy could ever be happy with a mere human. Perhaps being a good man might be enough for himself, enough for the rest of the world, but could it be enough for the Slayer?

Listening as they spoke in unison, he couldn’t stop the shiver that ran up his spine at the raw strength in their voices. This was strength without mercy or passion, but only purpose. Spike instinctively knew that it was the Slayer’s voice he was hearing. That part of Buffy that fed her strength and made her more than human. He loved that part of her, but he also loved her humanity, and he was suddenly glad that he wouldn’t see her while she was in the grip of this spell. He didn’t know that it wouldn’t change the way he viewed her. He also didn’t know that it wouldn’t cause him to desire to worship her that much more.

The banging on the outside door got his attention, and Spike swung around to face the entrance, knife in one hand and ax in the other. He heard Willow’s voice behind him saying, “Wow, that was—” They had come out of the spell, but he had no time for them, only time for the demon that came crashing into the room.

He sidestepped its trajectory, graceful as a cat, and lodged his ax in the back of its head, using his knife to stop the other that followed close on its heels. Spike turned to face the group. “You know, it’s a good thing you lot had me here. Otherwise, you would have been breakfast. Or maybe it’s dinner time ‘round here.”

“Yes, Spike, it was certainly a good thing we had you around,” Giles replied, trying to keep the sarcasm in his voice to a minimum. He looked at the bodies of the demons, and hid a shudder.

“Definitely a good thing,” Xander agreed, trying to stand, and not quite managing it due to shaky legs. Spike came over and offered a hand to haul him up.

Spike looked at Giles expectantly. “Buffy’s okay, yeah? That’s why the spell ended, because you managed to defeat Adam?”

~~~~

Buffy went through the doors, feeling a lot better knowing that Spike was staying behind to look after them. From the spells she’d seen done in the past, the spell-casters had a tendency to lose sight of their surroundings.

Of course, that would be assuming that the spell worked and she managed to kill Adam. Otherwise, Spike would end up just being one more dead body.

She found Riley immediately, seated, a look of distress on his face. “Riley?” He didn’t move, didn’t speak. “Riley? Are you okay? Why won’t you answer me?”

“He can’t.” Adam’s deep voice startled her. He always seemed to be able to sneak up from behind, and Buffy wasn’t quite sure how that was possible. Adam was big, for one thing, and he was half-metal. You’d think he’d at least squeak.

She turned to look at him, Dr. Walsh and Dr. Engleman appearing. They both looked like something out of a Frankenstein movie. “What’s going on with him?”

“He has not been programmed to talk to you,” Adam explained. “He is part of the final phase now, as you were supposed to be.”

“I don’t jump through hoops on command,” Buffy replied. “Sorry.”

“Oh.” Adam paused. “Kill her.”

Strong arms grabbed her from behind, and Buffy recognized Forrest’s voice as he spoke. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The Slayer knew that dead things could present challenges of both strength and skill, but dead things like this? When could she get back to normal dead things, like vampires? She’d even take a zombie or two at this point.

Walsh was getting way too close to her with whatever she had in her hand. A quick kick sent the former professor flying, and Buffy concentrated on taking Forrest down. What had to be most annoying was that she ought to have been able to do it with one hand tied behind her back.

And now she was losing. Forrest played around with her a little bit before bashing her head into the table. Buffy heard Riley say her name as she slowly got up.

“Shut up and watch me kill your girlfriend, Finn. That’s an order.”

“Not my boyfriend anymore, Forrest,” Buffy snarled. “Get with the program.” It might have been a mistake, making him mad, because he just came at her with that much more ferocity. Buffy found herself hard-pressed just to hold her own, and soon she found herself way too close to being put into restraints.

“That all you got?” Forrest asked.

Riley loomed behind him. “No, it’s not.” Forrest turned to look at him. “She’s still got friends on the inside.” He knocked out both Walsh and Engelman and then turned to struggle with Forrest. Buffy kicked the cyber-soldier to one side, looking at Riley with relief.

“I need to get to Adam. Like, now. Are you able?” Buffy asked.

He almost laughed. “Go.”

Buffy took off, and found Adam sooner than expected. There were the usual pre-fight pleasantries, and then the fight really began. Adam worried her; he didn’t tire, and he didn’t seem to be rocked by any of her blows. She broke the spine in his arm, and it turned into a gun.

She took cover behind the computer console, and felt the spell descend on her. It felt as though she were being consumed by living fire, as though she were both more and less than she had ever been. Buffy could feel Willow’s power, Xander’s heart, Giles’ mind; she could feel the pure power of the First Slayer.

Buffy-Giles-Xander-Willow stood and looked at Adam, seeing him for the first time like the bug he was. The bug she was going to crush beneath her heel.

“You can’t last much longer,” Adam said, sounding puzzled.

“We can. We are forever.” There was a small, tiny part of herself that remained Buffy during the spell, and that part stood back and stared in wonder as the Hand spoke Sumerian, as the power rushed out of the Spirit. She put up a forcefield, and turned rockets into birds. She blocked every punch and stopped every kick.

She was strong. She was infinite. She was eternal. “You can never hope to grasp the source of our strength.” Buffy-Giles-Xander-Willow said. “But yours is right here.” She reached through his chest and pulled out the uranium core.

Adam fell to the ground, dead, and the power that looked like Buffy heard Riley call her name. Her task was not yet over, however, and she levitated the uranium, again speaking in Sumerian, and it disappeared into thin air. The power rushed out of her, and blackness rushed in.

She woke to find herself cradled in Riley’s arms. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he replied. “You okay?”

Buffy laughed a little. “I think so. Quite a ride though.”

“What was that?”

She hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “Let’s just say it was combo-Buffy,” she said, using Xander’s terminology, thinking it as good as any. “What was that thing with you about?” She looked at his bloody shirt pointedly.

“Modification chip,” Riley explained. “The others?”

“I left them with Spike.” Buffy realized she was still in Riley’s arms, and she struggled to stand. Once she got to her feet, she found she was steady enough to help the soldier stand. “We should get you out of here. We still have demons to kill. Can I count on you to make sure the other soldiers are on board?”

“Of course, Buffy,” Riley said. “Always.”

Buffy supported her ex-boyfriend through the lower level, and then up and into the room where she’d left her friends and Spike. Just in time to hear Spike ask the question about whether or not they’d defeated Adam.

“He’s history.” Spike’s head swiveled to stare at her and Riley. She gave him a reassuring smile. “Adam’s done.” She looked at the bodies of the dead demons and then at her boyfriend. “You up for a little more mayhem?” she asked. “We need to do clean-up. Riley’s going to organize the soldiers.”

“After you, Slayer,” Spike replied, and then they stepped out into the fray. This might be all he had to offer, Spike thought, but it would be enough. He would make sure it would be enough.

~~~~~

“You can come back with us if you want,” Buffy offered. They had all made it out of the Initiative alive, which now seemed like a miracle. She would never forget the sight of her ex-boyfriend digging the modification chip out of his chest on his own. In the end, Riley Finn had acquitted himself admirably, even if she was never in love with him.

Riley shook his head. “No, I’ve got a debriefing to go to.” He hesitated, and then looked over at Buffy almost apologetically. “I’m leaving. Asking for a transfer. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble getting it.”

“Where will you go?” she asked, feeling a sense of sadness, though not loss.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably go with Graham to Belize. I always wanted to travel, you know. And now, with the Initiative gone, and with helping take Adam out, I’ll probably have my pick of commands.” Riley laughed a little. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll even get a promotion out of this.”

They stood above ground, in Lowell House, and in the relative peace that surrounded them, it was hard to believe what they’d just faced and survived. It was always hard to believe what went on in the darkness while you stood in the light of day. It was no wonder the populace of Sunnydale managed to delude themselves. “I guess this is good-bye then,” Buffy said.

He just smiled. “Pretty much. You never know, though. Maybe I’ll be back. Lot of weird stuff happens in this town. They might need me here again.”

Buffy pulled him into a hug. “Good luck, Riley.”

“You too.” He gave her a gentle squeeze and then released her. “I’ll see you.”

Buffy watched another piece of her past slip away and turned to find Spike watching her with a peculiar expression on his face. He came up, and without saying a word, pulled her into a hug of his own. They stood there holding one another, until he leaned down and kissed her, long and slow, reassuring himself that it had all turned out right. “Where to now, luv?”

“My house,” Buffy replied. “Traditional post-apocalyptic movie-night. The whole gang’s invited.”

Spike shook his head in wonder. “’s what Rupert said. Somethin’ about me bein’ a part of the gang.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in,” she assured him. “Even if you haven’t gone through the initiation.”

“Initiation?” he inquired.

She grinned. “Yep. Initiation: you help stop an apocalypse and live to tell the tale.”

“Did that two years ago,” he reminded her.

“Well, two makes it good then.” Buffy gave him a big grin. “That means you’re only one behind everybody else.”

A/N: I really did give serious thought about rewriting “Restless,” but then I had to face facts. I have no clue what half that symbolism meant, and I’m not even going to presume to try and “improve” the gang’s dreams. Suffice it to say they have them and that Spike and Riley play slightly different roles in everyone’s dreams but Buffy’s. You all can use your own imaginations as to who might fill those spots. And as this is last chapter, let me know if a sequel is something you might want to see eventually.

Chapter 14: The Great Advantage of Being Alive

“I wanna tell you/I wanna tell you just how I feel/I will show you/I will show you my love is real/Nobody’s ever gonna love you like I am/You never can deny that/Nobody’s ever gonna hold you like I am/I’ll love you ‘til I die/Until the day I die/I said “forever”/I said “forever” and I mean it/I made a promise/And I intend to always keep it/Forever is so far beyond the reach of my mind/So I’ll give all/I have, my heart, my love, my life.” ~Third Day, “’Til the Day I Die

Spike was out in the kitchen getting drinks when Joyce came to talk to him. “How are you, Spike?”

He smiled at her. “’m doin’ alright. Sorry ‘bout skippin’ out on you like that earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, and don’t even think about coming in early tomorrow,” she replied warmly. “It’s simply nice to know that someone is looking out for my daughter.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Spike said, a mischievious look in his eye.

Joyce laughed lightly and pulled him in for a quick kiss on the cheek. “Take the spare room bed tonight if you feel like it, William.”

“Thanks, Joyce.” He wandered out into the living room, glass of soda in hand. Buffy saw him and smiled, waving him over to the couch. Spike plopped down next to her, snaking his arm behind and pulling her in to rest against his chest. “Can’t believe you lot do this after every major battle,” he said.

Willow smiled over at him. “Well, we’re usually too wired to sleep.”

Spike shook his head. “You’ll have to excuse me when I drop off right away then,” he said. “’cause I don’t think it’s goin’ to take me all that long to get there.”

“That’s okay,” Buffy said comfortingly, patting his hand. “We’ll tuck you in.”

Giles snorted. “I won’t. Spike’s on his own.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how long you last old man,” Spike jeered.

Xander rolled his eyes. “Okay, guys? Anybody want to pick a movie?”

Spike watched as Harris plugged some damn thing into the VCR. He wasn’t sure who had been in charge of picking the movies, but none of the titles sounded all that interesting. Of course, it wasn’t like he was at all interested in staying up and watching the film. The feel of Buffy against his chest, friends surrounding him: Spike felt a sense of satisfaction like he hadn’t felt for a very long time. He slept.

And dreamt.

~~~~~

Spike stood in the hallway of a Victorian house that he had faint memories of. The scents that wafted past his nose evoked stronger emotions than the familiar hallway. “What—”

He looked around wildly, not understanding. He pinched himself, thinking it was a dream, but he did not wake. Then his eyebrows shot up as he realized what it was he was wearing. Tweed. Spike hadn’t worn tweed since—“Bloody hell.”

“William! Such language!” His mother, Anne, stood looking at him.

Spike stared at her. She was alive, though he could hear her painful breathing. She was still dying, but she was as she had been when they had both been alive—the first time. He blinked, and she raised her own eyebrows, obviously waiting for an apology. “Sorry, mum. I, uh, stubbed my toe.”

Her disapproving frown gave way to a slight smile. “Even so. You will not win over any hearts by using such words. It is unbecoming a gentleman.”

“Right. Sorry ‘bout that, mum,” he apologized again.

Anne looked at her son strangely. “Are you sure you’re quite alright? You’re talking rather strangely tonight, William.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

Spike remembered himself, remembered the way words had felt in his mouth once upon a time. “No, of course not, mother. I’m just—tired, you know.”

“Well, then you should go to bed, shouldn’t you?” Anne came over to him and gave him a warm hug. “Will you go to the party tomorrow night? I believe Cecily shall be there.”

Spike suddenly realized where he was, or rather, when he was. The night before the party, the night before he became a vampire. Two days before he sired his own mother. He swallowed hard. Seeing her there, it felt almost as though a spell had been cast over him. The part of him that was William did not want to meet a demon in the street. He wanted to stay with his mother, take care of her, as he should have done in the first place. “I don’t believe so,” he replied. “I do not see a need to attend the party tomorrow night. I feel it would better serve my time to stay here with you.”

Anne frowned, concerned. “You should not hide yourself away, William. You have so much to offer a young woman.”

William shook his head. “Perhaps. The right woman, at least. Cecily has better prospects than I could ever offer her.”

Anne looked at her son in surprise. “William, your prospects are good enough. And your sentiment—”

“Will not speak to her, I’m afraid,” he said smoothly. “I should have realized it long ago.” William tried to sound cheerful. “In any case, I’m sure I shall find a good woman someday. Until then, I already have a woman in my life.”

“Who—oh…” Anne smiled, and laughed a little as he kissed her cheek. “Well then, sleep well, William.”

~~~~~

A young, human William woke the next morning in the same bed he had fallen asleep upon. The part of himself that was still strongly connected to the memories of the demon was strangely quiet. He rose, washed, and dressed in the same manner he had so long ago. He spent his day quietly, just as he always had, taking care of his mother and reading.

It was odd, but he didn’t feel any sense of frustration or anger, stuck in a life he’d long outgrown. Instead, he accepted his fate quietly, and the piece of him that would always love violence and mayhem, that would always be brash and impulsive, slept on. He watched Anne fade away, as the days went by. He found himself marrying a woman for whom he had a strong affection, but no love. William had long since given up on both love and poetry. Though the memories of being a vampire and of Sunnydale were dim and increasingly dream-like, there was still the knowledge that his poetry was horrific, and there was only one woman he truly loved now.

It was William who nursed his sick mother and watched her die. William, who lay with his wife and did not love her. William, who doted on a young daughter with his eyes and her mother’s gentle spirit.

In the end, it was William who died of the same illness that had taken his mother when he was barely over thirty.

He died, and found himself standing in a dilapidated old house, the main hall blackened with soot. He was dressed in the clothes he had worn as a demon, complete with duster, and he heard a voice call out behind him.

“Do you understand now?” Spike turned to see Tara standing there, looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and sadness.

Spike shook his head. “Understand what?” he demanded. “Is this a dream? Because it feels bloody real.”

“It is and it is not,” Tara replied, though Spike knew it wasn’t really Tara. “It is what might have been, had you not been turned.”

Spike looked at her, and then around him. “So this is a soddin’ It’s a Wonderful Life? I bloody well hated that movie when it first came out. Didn’t need to live it.”

“Didn’t you?” she asked gently. “Given a choice, didn’t you choose to remain a human?”

Spike looked disgruntled. “Bloody lot of good that did me. Even knowin’ what I did, didn’t do anythin’ of any importance. I was just another poncy bugger. Just another waste of space ‘gentleman’ like any of those other wankers that made my life hell.”

Tara smiled at him. “And your daughter that would have been? Would it help you to know that watching you sicken and die made such an impression upon her that she became a nurse? That she served the soldiers of the Great War and was known as an angel to those she helped?”

Spike swallowed hard. Seeing the dream of what might have been, even if he had never loved the woman named Margaret who became his wife…His daughter had been beautiful. “Yeah. She was somethin’ wasn’t she?” He paused. “Wait just a bleedin’ minute. You’re sayin’ me not bein’ a vampire made no difference at all? That bein’ a member of the evil dead was better?”

“Look around you,” Tara said. Spike did as instructed, realizing that he was in the old Crawford mansion, and that it was much the worse for wear.

“What happened here?”

Tara pointed out the door, and Spike went to stand in the doorway, looking out on Hell. “You were not here. Angelus opened Acathla.” When Spike shook his head, Tara continued. “Spike was not here, but Angel and Buffy still had their perfect moment. Drusilla came to find her ‘daddy,’ and the Slayer was left to fight both of them herself.”

Spike spun to face her. “What about Buffy? Did she make it?” The look in Tara’s eyes told him all he needed to know. He shook his head and then looked away. “I don’t understand,” he confessed. “How is it that I could do more good as a vampire than as a human?”

“It is not being a human or being a vampire that matters. It is knowing who you are.”

Something that echoed in her voice caused Spike to look at her in wonder. “And who are you?”

“I am a voice that was loosed.” Something of power flickered in her eyes. “The others dream because they were caught up in the spell. It opened them to the power of the First Slayer. You dream because you must to understand your place.”

“My place?” Spike demanded. “What the hell are you on about? ‘m an ex-vampire. I was no bloody good as a human, an’ I was a bleedin’ terror as a monster. Where does that leave me now?”

“Did you not understand?” The thing that looked like Tara asked. “You are needed as you are.”

Spike turned and found himself standing between—himself. “Will you choose?” William asked.

“You gonna pick one of us, mate?” Vampire-Spike asked him.

Spike turned from one to another. Tara looked over at him. “What will you choose? Who are you?”

Spike thought about growing up in his mother’s home, thought about the bloody awful poetry he had written, thought about Drusilla and all she had given him. He thought about the fact that he only truly lived after he was dead, and that he never would have known his Slayer had he not crawled out of his own grave.

The truth was that he never would be the man that he was without William the human, or Spike the demon. In the end, it was an easy answer.

“I am William Brighton,” he answered her. “I am William the Bloody, the Scourge of Europe. I am Spike, the Slayer of Slayers.” Spike laughed. “I am William Giles, and I’m bloody well in love with the girl I’d planned on killin’.”

“Was it worth it, William?” Spike turned to see his mother standing there. He had no idea if it was just an apparition, or if, somehow, it was really her spirit. “Yeah, mum, I think it was.” Spike considered it a bit longer, and then said with more surety, thinking of a certain blonde girl. “I think it was all worth it, in the end.”

~~~~~

Spike woke on the couch, next to Buffy, startled out of his dream by the sound of choking. He sat, paralyzed by his dream and its import for a moment, realizing that he finally understood. He’d known he needed to be both; he hadn’t quite realized that he was both yet. That it would not have been better if he had never been a vampire. After all, as evil as he had been, Spike was a little different than any other vampire. Had William never been turned, there would have been another to take his place. Perhaps it had been destiny that had led Drusilla to choose him that night. On the other hand, perhaps he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or the right place at the right time.

Spike looked over at Buffy tenderly, his eyes widening as he saw her struggle. Remembering what dream-Tara had told him, his eyes flew to the others, and he could see Giles twitching, Xander gasping, and Willow struggling as though someone were choking her.

“Buffy!” he called, trying to shake her out of it, but there was no response. Spike went to the others in turn, but whatever had them in its clutches was too strong. He came back to sit next to the Slayer on the couch, watching her and waiting for her to wake up.

When she came to, she did so suddenly—immediately. Buffy’s eyes opened to look straight into Spike’s worried blue ones. “Spike.”

“Buffy.” He sounded infinitely relieved. “I couldn’t wake you up. The others—”

Buffy turned to look at her friends, who were also waking. “I think they’re okay.”

They sat around the dining room table, wearing similar expressions of disbelief. “The First Slayer,” Willow finally said, for all of them. “Wow.”

“Not big with the socialization,” Xander commented.

“Or the floss,” Willow added.

Giles shook his head. “Somehow, our joining with Buffy and—and invoking the essence of her power was an affront to that power.”

“An’ you didn’t think of that before you did the spell?” Spike asked, still a little disturbed to think that he might have lost Buffy while she was dreaming. Not to mention the fact that he was still a little shaken by his own dreams.

“I did warn that there could be dire consequences,” Giles replied, slightly disgruntled.

Buffy looked over at him. “Yeah, but you say that when we chew too fast.”

Spike looked up at the rustling sound to see Joyce looking at them sleepily, in her bathrobe. “I’m guessing I missed something,” she said.

“The First Slayer tried to kill us in our sleep,” Willow explained.

“Oh.” Joyce looked around at the group. “Do you all want some hot chocolate?”

There were five affirmatives at once, and Spike rose immediately. “I’ll give you a hand, Joyce.”

“Thank you, William,” she said. Spike looked over at Xander with curiosity as he passed, noticing that Harris was blushing furiously. He caught the younger man’s eye and quirked an eyebrow, but Xander looked away immediately turning an even deeper shade of red. “Did the—First Slayer?—try to kill you too?”

Spike looked over at Joyce, who was beginning to heat the milk on the stove. “No. No, I wasn’t involved in the spell. Had a different dream, I guess. Dreamed I was back home. With my mum.”

Joyce was silent, waiting patiently for him to finish. “She would have died anyway, you know,” Spike finally stated. “When—when it happened, she didn’t have all that long. I would have been with her to the end.”

“Then it wasn’t all that different, was it?” Joyce asked quietly. “You were still with her at the end.”

Spike stared at her, suddenly intent. “You know how I feel ‘bout you, yeah? I mean, you know how I feel ‘bout your daughter, but it’s more than just you bein’ her mum. ‘s more than Giles bein’ who he is, an’ the others bein’ her friends.”

“I know.” Joyce put a tender hand to his cheek. “You have made a place for yourself here. I’m very proud of you, Spike.”

“’s who I am.” He drew her into an embrace, kissing her cheek fondly, much as he had embraced his own mother. Spike was a man who needed others, even if he had finally defined himself on his own terms.

For twenty years, he’d chased across Europe as part of its Scourge. They had been a family, of sorts, he and Drusilla and Angelus and Darla. Then Angel had been cursed with his soul, and Darla had left soon after the Boxer Rebellion, and it had been he and Dru. She had been his black goddess, his sun, and the center of his universe.

But losing Drusilla meant losing his identity, and what had he been after she left him? A poor monster with a yen for Slayer’s blood, defining his existence by his hunt for Buffy. In the end, it was meaningless, still an attempt to describe himself in relation to another.

Now—now Spike knew who he was, by himself, on his own. He knew at least one of the possible futures he might have had if Dru hadn’t found him that night. Maybe it didn’t make any difference, that he had died. But it made a difference that he had existed.

He was William. He was Spike. Knowing that, he had something to offer to those around him, even if it was only himself. Knowing that, he could remain connected without losing himself in them. “You were right, y’know,” he said, finally pulling back.

“About what?” she asked, smiling at him, looking just a little misty-eyed.

He returned the smile, dimples showing. “’bout it getting easier. It does.”

~~~~~

The others went home after their hot chocolate, but Spike decided to take Joyce up on her offer and stay in the guest bedroom. He followed Buffy up the stairs, and noted when she paused. “Everythin’ alright, pet?”

Buffy looked back at him. Spike was giving her that look, the one that said he would listen to her until the world ended and would love every minute. “Yeah. I think so. It was—just the dream, you know?”

“You want to talk about it?” he asked.

Buffy shook her head. “No. Well, maybe. I—I heard you telling mom you had a dream too. You want to share?”

“I show you mine, you show me yours?” Spike asked with some amusement. He hesitated. “Yeah, sure, luv.”

Spike wandered into Buffy’s bedroom as she washed her face and got ready for bed. It was odd to be here even now, looking at the life of the Slayer from the inside. It was still a position that stunned him. He was holding onto Mr. Gordo, and sitting on the bed when Buffy came back to the room, already in her pajamas. “You want something to sleep in?” she offered. “I could probably—”

“Don’t need anything,” he replied, tilting his head with a smile. “But thanks.”

Buffy saw he had Mr. Gordo in his hands, and sadness flickered in her eyes, almost too fast for Spike to see it. “Luv?”

“Angel,” she said, sitting next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder. “Long time ago. I came home, and he was waiting for me and holding Mr. Gordo. Before he went evil.”

“Things change,” he observed. “Almost too fast to keep up, sometimes.” Spike put the stuffed pig back on the bed and put an arm around her. “So. The rest of your dream?”

Buffy told him about it, including the part with Riley calling her a killer and the part where the thing that looked like Tara told her that she didn’t know what was to come. “She said I didn’t even know what I was.”

By this point, they were both lying down. Spike’s head had somehow ended up in the crook of Buffy’s arm, and she was playing with his hair. It lay curly and still mussed from the after-battle clean up, and she wound the strands over and through her fingers. His eyes were closed, and for a moment Buffy thought he was asleep, until he spoke. “None of us ever know what we are, luv.”

She gave a little huff. “Okay, cryptic-guy.”

He laughed, and she could feel him shift against her. “Can I tell you what I dreamed? Might help.”

“Okay.” He told her, sparing no details, and sparing William not at all. When he had finished, Buffy said quietly, “So what you’re saying is that even though you weren’t you, you still loved me?”

“As confusin’ as that might sound, yeah.” Spike sighed. “’s taken me this long just to start to figure out what I am now, Slayer. To find some sort of balance between the man an’ the demon. Didn’t really like either one of them on their own.”

Buffy’s hand stilled as she considered her words. “You mean, finding a balance between being me and being the Slayer.”

Spike shook his head as best he could in his position. “No, that’s what I’m sayin’, luv. You are the Slayer, just like I’m Spike an’ William both. ‘s not about balance. ‘s about findin’ a place inside yourself you can live in.”

“What if I can’t?” Buffy asked. “Tonight, that spell—I felt the power. She said—she said the Slayer is always alone. I mean, I know I’m not alone. I have my friends and you and mom and Giles, but…”

Spike twisted so that he was face to face with her, his eyes dark with passion. “Buffy, luv, we’re each of us alone. An’ I hate to say it, but in your little group, you’re each of you gonna feel more alone than most sometimes.” When her face fell, he touched her cheek, asking gently for her eyes to meet his gaze. “’s why you lot lost your way. Goin’ through different things, it’s easy to forget ‘bout everybody else, an’ that they’re changin’ too. It’s when you come together again, you know you’re stronger for it. An’ you’ll always come back together.”

“How do you know that?” Buffy asked him. “Things change. Maybe someday we won’t.”

“Maybe.” Spike looked away, his face troubled. “I’ve fought two other Slayers, pet. An’ I killed the both of them. ‘m not proud of it, not now, but I know a little bit about Slayers because of it. None of ‘em last as long as you have. None of ‘em lasted as long as you will. You’re different, Buffy. Unique. We all see it. You’ll find a place you fit, you feel comfortable, an’ you’ll know it when you do.”

He looked so sad just then, that Buffy grabbed his hand, wanting to offer comfort for whatever reason that he needed it. “Then why the long face, Spike?”

“Because there might not be a place for me when you do.”

It was this part of him that startled her. The part of Spike that was so obviously William, so insecure. And yet, maybe it was still Spike, and half of who he had been was only a mask. She loved him. Buffy stared at him, stunned by his words and her own realization. She had fallen hard for him, and she hadn’t even noticed. And now she loved him, but she wasn’t quite ready to say it. “You didn’t include yourself in the part of the group that always comes back together no matter what.”

“Buffy—” Spike frowned. “You lot have a history.”

“And we don’t?” she asked, amused. “You said you wouldn’t leave unless I asked you to. Here’s fair warning from me. I’m not going to ask you to.”

“Then I suppose you’re stuck with me, Miss Summers,” Spike said gallantly. “I fear for the safety of your heart.”

He was silly and noble and beautiful all at once, and Buffy felt her heart turn over in her chest. “I think someone might have already stolen it,” she replied. “Some bleach-blonde guy with blue eyes and killer abs.”

“So you only want me for my body?” he asked facetiously.

Buffy laughed. “There’s a lot more to you than just a pretty face, Spike.” She stopped. His eyes were so deep she might drown in them. “Layers and layers.”

“There’s so much to you, luv,” he whispered to her. “You’ll find out what that First Slayer was on about and make her eat your dust. An’ then we’ll outlaw apocalypses an’ live happily ever after.”

Buffy smiled. Maybe Spike was right, because she saw herself so clearly in his eyes. Having him around, she might actually find that place he was talking about. One of these days. It certainly gave her one more reason to keep him around. “Sounds good to me,” she said, and pillowing her head on his chest, she slept deeply and with no dreams.

~~~~~

Giles strode into the gallery the next afternoon, taking a deep breath. He and Joyce had discovered a number of similarities in recent months, besides their children. They also had a taste, or at least could remember, the same music. They liked fine things, and she really made a rather decent cup of cocoa. There was no reason to continue in a strained manner. It was ridiculous.

“Rupert.” Joyce came out of the back room to greet him warmly. “I know you knew Spike was coming in later this afternoon. Did you come back to take a look at the rest of the gallery?”

He smiled, a little stiffly. “Uh, yes, as a matter of fact.” Giles hesitated, wondering if he was turning into a complete nutter. “Although, I was wondering if you might like to have dinner sometime. With me, that is.”

Joyce gazed at him for a long moment, her expression enigmatic. “You know,” she finally said, “I think I would like that very much.”

~~~~~

“Hey there.” Buffy turned to find Spike standing casually in the door of her bedroom. She had moved back home for the summer, and was starting to unpack and put her things away. It looked as though he’d just gotten done at the gallery, since he was wearing gray slacks and a crimson shirt.

She smiled, coming over to give him a quick “hello” kiss. “Hey yourself,” she replied. “Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?”

Spike pulled her in and held her to him. “Your mum invited me home for dinner,” he replied. “Benefits of workin’ for your girl’s parental figure.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist. “Well, I’m glad you could come then. It’s going to be way too boring this summer with you working and me not in school.” She paused. “I can’t believe I actually said that I would be bored while not in school.”

Spike felt her forehead, as though checking for a fever. “Well, don’t think you’re running a temperature, luv, but it’s hard to say.”

Swatting his hand away, she sighed. “It’s just that you’re busy all day, and I’m less busy, and it would be really nice to spend my not-busy time with you.”

“Good thing I left my nights open then,” he commented, with a suggestive tilt of his head.

She looked at him inquisitively. “What happened to the ‘moving things slow’ philosophy?”

“Nothin’.” Spike pulled back and gave her a serious look. “You up for dinner with me tomorrow night? An’ before you say anythin’ I got the next day off too.”

Buffy realized what he was saying without really saying. “Okay. Sure, I’m up for dinner. Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nice,” Spike said, still looking serious. “Got something I wanted to tell you.”

She wanted to ask what that was, but didn’t. Spike didn’t seem like he was in a sharing mood, and even though her curiosity was killing her, she’d respect his reservation. He had said something about wanting their first time to be special. Buffy happened to like special.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Tomorrow night then.”

~~~~~

Buffy dressed carefully for their date. It was the first time they’d been able to actually make plans and then follow through on them. It was certainly the first time she’d been able to go out to a nice restaurant for a while.

The red dress she chose was a heart-stopper, and she was looking forward to watching Spike’s jaw drop. He came to the door to pick her up, two bouquets of roses in his hands: one red, one yellow. “For you,” he said, handing her the red roses. When Joyce appeared at the door behind her daughter, Spike handed her the yellow roses.

“Spike, how thoughtful,” Joyce said, smiling. “I’ll just put these in water.” She took both bouquets and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Spike turned his eyes to Buffy, who was looking drop-dead gorgeous in her dress, the low-cut front and fitted bodice showing off her figure to good effect. The uneven hem fluttered around her calves, giving him tantalizing glimpses of lean legs. He gave her a slow once-over, and then murmured in a low voice, “You look beautiful, Buffy.”

A purely feminine smile of appreciation curled Buffy’s lips as she said, “So do you.” He was wearing black on black: black pants, dress shirt, and silk tie. Spike looked both dangerous and completely yummy. Buffy rather hoped that he might be her dessert.

Joyce came back to see them both out. “Have fun tonight, you two.”

“Don’t wait up for us, Mom,” Buffy said.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Spike said, holding a gallant arm out for the Slayer. Buffy let him escort her out, and she almost didn’t recognize the Desoto, which had been freshly washed and cleaned, the paint removed from the windows.

Neither said much as Spike drove to the restaurant. Buffy let her hand rest comfortably in his, and while she was terribly curious about what Spike had planned, she was also content to simply be with him. After all the drama and activity of recent weeks, she was just happy to take a break from it all.

Not since she’d been with Angel, long ago, had she been so comfortable just being with a man. Even being with Riley had felt like she was putting on a front. With Spike, there was no pretending, no need to be anything other than Buffy. He already knew her, and Buffy thought she might be getting to know him as well.

“So where are we going?” she asked, after they’d driven for about 15 minutes.

He glanced over at her, his blonde hair startlingly visible in the light from street lamps. “Place I know ‘bout halfway to L.A. Decent food. I think you’ll like it.”

The silence stretched out for a while. “When are you going to tell me what this evening’s all about?”

“After we get to the restaurant,” he replied briefly.

Buffy raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. “And if I die of curiosity before then?”

“You’re the Slayer. You’ll survive,” Spike said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. “You know, that’s really frustrating.”

“’s called anticipation. Makes getting there even sweeter.”

Buffy sighed. He really wasn’t giving out information. “Either that, or whatever you’ve got to say has you so nervous you’re postponing it.”

Something flickered over his face, and Buffy realized that she’d inadvertantly hit the nail on the head. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Good nervous or bad nervous?”

“That would depend on you, luv,” he replied with a rueful smile. “But I’m hopin’ for good.”

They drove the rest of the way to the restaurant in silence, Spike not wanting to say anything and Buffy too busy trying to figure out what it was he was going to tell her. Under different circumstances, she might have expected a marriage proposal, but they hadn’t been dating that long. She knew he had a clean bill of health, so it couldn’t be that he was sick.

She was still pondering when Spike pulled the car up in front of a restaurant on the outskirts of a small town halfway between Los Angeles and Sunnydale. “Here we are,” he announced unnecessarily, and then came around to her side of the car to open her door for her.

“You know, you’re really starting to scare me,” Buffy told him as she took his hand to let him help her out of the car. “I mean, I’ve seen you be polite before, but you’re on your best behavior.”

Spike shrugged, and somehow the familiar movement comforted her. “’s a date, yeah? ‘m supposed to be on my best behavior.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Well, not that I don’t appreciate the chivalry, but I’ve seen you with demon goo all over you, I’ve seen you with the flu, and I’ve seen you up to your neck in my mom’s filing system. Normally on first dates you’re just getting to know someone. I think we’re probably past that point.”

Spike’s shoulders lost a little of their tension. “S’pose so.” He glanced over there, his face full of a self-deprecating amusement. “This is a bit different for me, Buffy. I’ve never actually dated anybody before.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the dual bouquets were worth major points.” They walked into the restaurant, and Buffy’s eyes widened. “Okay, you know, you have points for about six months right now.”

The restaurant was beautiful, sophisticated and stunning, and the maitre’d who met was completely deferential. “May I help you?”

“Reservations for William Giles,” Spike said, his voice slipping into the smooth tones of his childhood. Buffy glanced over at him with surprise, but didn’t say anything.

“Of course. Follow me, please.” They followed the short, portly man through the restaurant, back to an out of the way corner table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly,” he informed them, before he left them with the menus.

They looked over their choices in silence, until Buffy finally lost patience. “Okay. Spike, what is—”

The waiter showed up just then. “My name is Jeff, and I’ll be serving you this evening…”

Buffy resisted the urge to growl, and instead managed to smile sweetly. She asked for water and let Spike order the special for both of them. Once Jeff had again left them alone, Buffy gave her boyfriend her most serious “Slayer” look. “Spill.”

Spike looked a little sheepish. “I was thinkin’ maybe we could make it through dinner first.”

“Do you really want to be so nervous you can’t eat?” she asked.

He sighed. “No. S’pose not.” Spike reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small box, handing it to her across the table. “Thing is—” Spike cleared his throat and continued. “Thing is, ‘s hard for me to be with a girl an’ not mean for it to last forever. ‘m not built that way, Buffy.” Spike fiddled with his napkin. “Wanted to do somethin’ to show you how I felt—let you know I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Buffy opened the box, and her eyes widened as she saw what it contained. “’s not meant to be an engagement ring,” he explained. “Not yet, anyway. It’s—I guess it’s a promise ring. My promise that ‘m not goin’ to leave you.”

With wide eyes, Buffy pulled the ring out of its padding. It was simple, a gold and silver strand entwined to form one band. Feeling a little foolish, Spike explained, “It’s a symbol of your life an’ mine comin’ together.” At Buffy’s continued silence, Spike continued stammering nervously. “You don’t have to wear it on any particular finger or anything. I mean, you don’t have to wear it at all, if you don’t want. I’d like for you to keep it, but—”

Buffy cut off his nervous rambling with one finger laid across his lips. Then, slowly, deliberately, she slid the ring on her left hand. “That’s where you wear a promise ring, you big doof,” she said gently. And then, even more softly, “I love you, Spike. What you’ve managed to do in the last year, the ways you’ve changed, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

Spike blinked, stunned, unable to say anything at all. He had wondered, right up until that moment, if Buffy really loved him, if she really wanted to be with him, or if he was just the pit stop on the way to something better. Her words, and the way she wore his ring, put all his fears to rest.

Not to mention the fact that they lit a fire deep inside him. “You sure you’re hungry?” Spike asked abruptly.

Buffy smiled, and then rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “I’m starving. And we’ve waited this long. We can wait a while longer.”

It was true enough, and now that the painful part of the evening was over for Spike, he let himself relax and enjoy Buffy’s company. They told stories, each one of them trying to outdo the other with tall tales. They told tales of past hurts, each wanting to cry or rage on the other’s behalf. They loved each other with their words, their secrets, building up the intimacy of the evening with everything they said.

By the time they left the restaurant, neither one of them was completely sure they could wait to get back to Spike’s apartment, but he had promised both Buffy and himself that it was going to be special. Buffy kept their hands entwined on the way back, teasing him by massaging his palm and fingers, until he thought he might go mad with desire.

Their lips were already dueling before they even got to his door, and Spike fumbled for the key while trying to concentrate on the kiss. He got them inside, then locked the door behind them, pulling back to take a deep breath and take another long look at Buffy. “You’re beautiful,” he said reverently.

“So are you,” she replied, smiling, and went with him willingly back to the bedroom. Spike shakily lit the candles he’d placed around the room for just this occasion, and turned back to look at her.

Buffy met his eyes, and saw in their depths that he knew her. Spike saw her, and she loved him for it. “I love you, Spike.”

He reached for her, his fears falling away like old rags. In her words and in her eyes he saw the truth. The great advantage of being alive had everything to do with this one, perfect moment, and Spike wouldn’t give it up for the whole world.

the great advantage of being alive

(instead of undying)is not so much

that mind no more can disprove than prove

what heart may feel and soul may touch

—the great(my darling)happens to be

that love are in we,that love are in we

and here is a secret they never will share

for whom create is less than have

or one times one than when times where—

that we are in love,that we are in love:

with us they’ve nothing times nothing to do

(for love are in we am in I are in you)

this world(as timorous itsters all

to call their cowardice quite agree)

shall never discover our touch and feel

—for love are in we are in love are in we;

for you are and I am and we are(above

and under all possible worlds)in love

a billion brains may coax undeath

from fancied fact and spaceless time—

but by the sizeless truth of a dream

whose sleep is the sky and the earth and the sea.

For love are in you am in I are in we

~e.e. cummings