Chapter 11: Changing Perspectives

Angel wasn’t particularly happy. Drusilla might be reasonably comfortable with him—at least comfortable enough to be in the same room—but she stuck close to either Wesley or Cordelia. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to be happy in his presence any time in the near future.

The vampire might have been able to handle that. He might have been able to chalk up her discomfort to trauma and then swallowed the guilt like bitter medicine. It was her continued worry over Spike that was driving him crazy. Not that he wanted Wolfram and Hart to get their hands on the chipped vampire. Angel hated to think what they might be able to do if they were able to convince Spike to go along with whatever they had planned.

Of course, Spike never had been one to play well with others. More likely, if they did get their hands on him, he would refuse to cooperate out of sheer obstinacy.

No, that wasn’t what was bothering Angel. It was the fact that Spike seemed higher in Drusilla’s affections than he was at the moment. Drusilla had always liked him better. Plus, when he’d spoken to Buffy, she had seemed sincerely concerned about Spike’s safety, and not solely out of fear of what the lawyers might do were they to get their hands on him. The Slayer was concerned for the vampire himself. That had chafed Angel even more.

Why Spike—who was still evil and didn’t have a soul—was getting any consideration at all from anyone bothered Angel immensely. It was, of course, possible that it rankled him that Spike wasn’t nearly as evil as Angelus. Angel knew that it would have taken more than a chip to leash the beast inside him. Spike, on the other hand, had put Drusilla’s needs before his own, which was something Angel was still having trouble doing, if he was to be completely honest with himself.

He watched from Cordelia’s couch as Wesley and Drusilla spoke in soft voices, the sound of occasional laughter coming from one or the other. They were talking about a movie that Wesley had rented for the both of them to watch the night before, and Angel found that he was jealous over their burgeoning relationship. It was obvious that Wesley was becoming besotted with Dru while she seemed to be blooming in the face of his attraction.

The crazy thing was that Angel could have seen this happening more than a hundred years ago, before he turned her. Wesley would have been just the sort of man Drusilla would have been attracted to, and vice versa. The ex-Watcher’s gentility was a sharp contrast to the obsession that Angelus had borne for the woman. Wesley could be trusted to be a gentleman, and Dru obviously loved the attention.

And while Angel really was trying to be happy for her, it still irked him.

“Blood?” Cordelia asked, handing Angel a mug.

“You didn’t put cinnamon in it again, did you?”

Cordy rolled her eyes. “You said you didn’t like it.”

“You didn’t put anything else in here?”

“No, it’s straight blood, just like you wanted.” Cordelia glanced over to Wesley and Drusilla. “You’re not brooding again are you?”

“Of course not,” he replied sulkily.

“You’d better not be,” she warned him. “Because it’s about time you snapped out of it. Just be happy that the very sight of you isn’t driving Drusilla crazy any longer.”

Angel sighed. “She looks happy doesn’t she? With Wes?”

Cordelia gave the pair a thoughtful look. “Huh. I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right. Looks like Wesley has a crush on her.”

“You don’t find that at all odd?” Angel asked.

She thought about it. “No, not really. I mean, not that Wes isn’t a big dweeb, but Drusilla would probably like a dweeb, you know.”

Angel frowned. He hadn’t thought about it quite that way. “You think?”

“Well, sure,” Cordelia replied. “I mean, it’s not like Wesley is going to get fresh. Wes might drive me up the wall on occasion, but he’s definitely a gentleman.”

That had pretty much been Angel’s assessment of matters, although he hadn’t thought of Wes as a “dweeb” for a long time. In fact, Angel had been fairly impressed by the ex-Watcher as of late. The man had come a long way from the failure he’d been with the Watcher’s Council.

“You’re probably right,” Angel replied. “I don’t know why I’m worried.”

“You’re worried because we have no idea what Wolfram and Hart want with Drusilla. Not to mention if they get their hands on Spike we could have a real problem on our hands,” Cordelia pointed out practically. “It always manages to get messy with those guys involved.”

She had hit the nail on the head once again. “I think we might want to do something about that.”

“You aren’t going to do something stupid, like try to sneak into their offices, are you?” Cordelia asked, a note of panic in her voice. “You know that’s not going to do any good.”

“No, not that,” Angel said quietly. “But I think we do need to find some answers.”

~~~~~

Lindsay wasn’t very happy himself, which Angel probably wouldn’t have minded hearing. The lawyer had found himself stumped at every turn. When Lilah had sent her team to the Watcher’s apartment to collect Drusilla, both of them were gone. Apparently the ex-vampire had gotten over her fear enough to be around Angel.

Lindsay wasn’t quite ready to bring Angel into things. Right now all he wanted to do was to salvage his career. They would have to figure out how to use her to disturb Angel’s delicate equilibrium after they had Drusilla and Spike in custody.

Turning her shouldn’t have been a problem. Spike was rumored to have been her consort for over a hundred years. Their records indicated that William the Bloody had been captured by the Initiative and fitted with a behavior modification chip, which seemed more a boon than anything else. If they could guarantee Spike that they would remove the chip, Wolfram and Hart would then be possessed of both a pet vampire and a superior piece of technology.

Of course, that only worked if they could get their hands on both Drusilla and Spike. Drusilla seemed to be beyond their grasp for the moment, which left Spike.

And Spike seemed to be under the protection of the Slayer.

Lindsay had dealt with a Slayer before, and he couldn’t say that he’d relished the experience. Faith might have been a renegade, but hiring her had come back to bite them in the ass. This Buffy, on the other hand, was as straight as they came. There was no point in trying to buy her. Lindsay had no doubt that Angel had probably forewarned her about the law firm, which meant they had no chance of getting her to play their game.

It was probably why Spike was under her protection in the first place.

Lindsay sighed, leaning back in his chair and considering the information. There was something they were missing here. It seemed that Angel and his gang of do-gooders, along with Drusilla, were consistently one step ahead of them. It just wasn’t possible that it was by luck alone, which left only one option.

Somehow Angel was aware of Wolfram and Hart’s next moves before they made it. Lindsay didn’t believe that there was a mole within the firm. The occasional sweeps with the mind-readers were too thorough for that.

That left only one other option.

Lindsay decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. He needed all the information Wolfram and Hart had on Drusilla, because he had a feeling that she was more special than they had realized.

~~~~~

Buffy was feeling edgy. She’d seen the same black SUV drive slowly down her street more than once. She found it disturbing to know that the lawyers—or their people—were watching her house. It made it even more imperative that Spike shouldn’t be let out of her sight.

Of course, the vampire was down in the basement sleeping, so it wasn’t like she needed to have her eye on him constantly. The Slayer had to admit to being baffled as to how things had changed so quickly. A week or two ago she’d been quite comfortable with hating Spike. He’d been a nuisance—an annoying pest who would occasionally turn up while she patrolled, at which point they would engage in verbal sparring until she punched him in the nose.

Well, some things hadn’t changed.

What had changed was that Buffy no longer hated him. She wasn’t quite ready to confess that she liked him, but seeing him with Drusilla and her mom had changed her feelings towards him just slightly. Spike could apparently be nice when he wanted to be.

And when Spike was nice, it became a lot more difficult for Buffy to ignore what a hottie he was.

Buffy made a face in the silence of her house. If anyone found out that she was having even slightly lusty thoughts for Spike they’d probably lock her away in the nuthouse.

A sound from behind cause Buffy to turn, just in time to see Spike emerge from the basement, blinking sleepily in the afternoon sun. “You’re up early,” she commented.

He shrugged. “Don’t sleep too well these days. You said there was blood.”

“In the fridge.” Buffy watched as he meandered over to the fridge, pulling out the plastic tub full of the viscous red liquid.

“You got a mug, or should I drink it cold?”

The Slayer pulled a mug down from the cupboard silently, handing it to him. Spike gave her a wary look before starting to prepare his breakfast. Buffy just kept staring.

The vampire wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Pair Spike’s undressed state and stunning physique with Buffy’s marginally friendlier feelings and you ended up with a raging case of desire. Or maybe it was need. At this point, the Slayer honestly wasn’t sure. Even her silent self-admonition that he was still an evil vampire—even if a sexy evil vampire—wasn’t helping. Let’s just say that ever since Riley left, the Slayer really wasn’t getting any satisfaction.

There were definitely lusty thoughts involved.

“You got a problem, Slayer?” Spike finally demanded.

“No problem,” Buffy replied. “You could put a shirt on though.”

Spike sneered at her. “Am I offending your virgin eyes, Slayer?” Then his eyes narrowed as he realized exactly what the expression on her face was all about. “Or are you just too attracted to me for your own good?”

That question seemed to snap Buffy out of her lust-induced haze. “What? There is no attraction here. Me, Slayer. You, evil vampire. Why on earth would I be attracted to you?”

Buffy didn’t quite mean it to sound as harsh as it did. The statement was, after all, said more to convince herself than the evil vampire in question. Spike’s eyes darkened in anger. “You know, I wish you’d stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop makin’ me out to be worse than I am,” Spike snapped, suddenly feeling that his reputation could be damned. The Slayer calling him evil wouldn’t have irritated him quite so much if it wasn’t for the tone of voice she used while saying it. Her calling him an evil vampire was basically her way of calling him worthless. Spike was getting just a little tired of it.

Buffy glared. “I thought you were the one who was so proud of being evil in the first place.”

“Well, sure,” Spike said. “I’m a demon, pet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, and it doesn’t mean you have the right to stomp all over me just because you’re a little horny. Far as I can tell, that’s your problem.”

Her mouth fell open. “This has nothing to do with my love life.”

“Or lack thereof?” Spike suggested snidely.

“I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly happy with where I am,” Buffy protested. “I’m fine alone.”

“Say it like you mean it,” he replied. “And until then, you can just stop bein’ so—”

“Don’t even say it,” Buffy warned. “Not unless you want to find yourself outside on such a nice, sunny day.”

With his chosen insult barred from use, Spike was reduced to glaring at her. “Fine. Think I’ll go watch some telly for a bit.”

Buffy watched him go, trying to convince herself that he didn’t have a point. In truth, this whole situation was confusing the hell out of her. She didn’t like Spike—except that she sort of did. He was kind of fun to take along on patrol, and he was the only one who could be relied upon to keep up—both physically and with her verbal quips. She found herself almost looking forward to their fights, except when he made comments like that.

Because she was horny and Spike was attractive. Just because he was evil didn’t mean he wasn’t physically gorgeous.

Buffy went upstairs to her room for a while, trying to ignore the silence that had fallen over the house, except for the sound of the television. She put on a CD, read a magazine, painted her toenails, all the while keenly aware that Spike was somewhere downstairs with his feelings hurt. Again. “Stupid sensitive vampire,” she muttered.

Of course, if she let him stew like that for too much longer, her mom would come home and immediately sense that something was wrong. At which point Joyce would remind Buffy that she had promised to be nice, and then Buffy would have to watch Spike get the stupid smirk on his face like he did every time Joyce defended him.

It was therefore merely self-defense that had her going downstairs and attempting to make peace, Buffy decided. It would save her the guilt trip her mom was sure to send her on if Spike was still sulking when Joyce got back from the gallery.

Spike had finally put on a shirt, and he was lounging in front of the TV, staring at the screen when she came into the living room. “What are you watching?”

He shrugged. “Somethin’ on lions. ‘s kind of interestin’. There’s really nothin’ else on.”

“What about Passions?” Buffy asked, remembering that he’d watched that every day at Giles, and had whined when he didn’t get to.

“’s over,” Spike replied. “You missed it.”

“Oh.” Buffy sat down in the chair and watched as a lion pulled down a wildebeast, thinking that Spike probably was wishing he could switch places with the big cat. “You know, about earlier—”

“Forget it.”

“Would you let me speak?”

Spike looked over at her, and Buffy could see an appalling lack of concern on his face. “Fine, Slayer. What do you want?”

“I just—” Buffy sighed. Who was she kidding? She and Spike were never going to have a real conversation, not one that was meaningful anyway. It wasn’t like she was actually going to admit that he was right. “It’s not you.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re doin’ the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, huh? Spare me.”

If it wasn’t for the carefully disguised hurt in his voice, Buffy would have gotten up and left right then. She was beginning to learn how to read his moods, though, and she thought she understood. Not that she wanted to put herself in Spike’s shoes—because she didn’t—but if she were to do so, Buffy could understand why the last couple weeks might have been hard on him. Having Drusilla come back as human, only to run away to L.A. with Angel and his crew, then having his unlife threatened by a bunch of lawyers he couldn’t defend himself against—it would have put her in a crappy mood too.

“I meant that if you weren’t an evil vampire, I might find you attractive,” Buffy said grudgingly. “But you are a vampire, and you don’t have a soul, and if you do get that chip out of your head—”

“’s not goin’ to happen,” Spike said glumly.

Buffy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, Slayer, the only people who could probably get the chip out are the government—and they won’t—and these lawyers, an’ I’m not havin’ anything to do with a bunch of people who screwed around with Dru so much. So let’s face it. Unless it breaks, it’s not comin’ out.”

“But it could break,” Buffy pointed out, cursing herself for actually sounding hopeful there for a minute. She didn’t want the chip to break of course, but Spike sounded so glum.

Spike laughed shortly. “Yeah, right. ‘m goin’ to be stuck like this for the rest of my unlife. Can’t defend myself, can’t feed, can’t do anything.”

“Well, I’m not going to say that the whole no feeding thing is bad, but I’m sorry you can’t defend yourself, Spike,” Buffy said, sounding sincere. It probably helped that she was sincere. When Spike looked over at her in surprise, Buffy laughed it off. “If you could defend yourself, you wouldn’t be staying here,” she pointed out.

“Oh, right,” he replied, his eyes going back to the TV screen.

In spite of herself, Buffy really did feel bad for the guy. It wasn’t his fault that Riley had left, or that she was feeling a little pissy, or that lawyers were after him. She did know what it was like to feel like you weren’t in control of your own destiny.

For some crazy reason, the Slayer suddenly found herself developing a certain unwelcome empathy for the vampire. “Spike—”

Her tone caught his attention, and Spike turned to look at her again, and he saw her sympathy for what it was, and not as pity. “Forget it, Slayer,” Spike replied, although this time there was no animosity in his tone. “’s just the way the chips fell, yeah?”

Buffy nodded slowly. Indeed, it was just the way the chips had fallen for both of them.
 

Chapter 12: Dreams That Speak

Lindsay finally found what he was looking for in the file on Angelus. It appeared that the vampire had become obsessed with a young innocent named Drusilla, and that she had a very special gift.

A very special gift indeed.

Lindsay was kicking himself for not having seen it before. They didn’t need to find a way to use Drusilla to get to Angel. They just needed Drusilla. Her visions, especially those that had to do with important future events could be invaluable to the firm, which is exactly what he told Holland Manners. The fact that Holland was thrilled with the news caused Lilah’s scowl to deepen even further.

“Excellent work, Lindsay,” Holland congratulated him. “That’s probably the reason Angel has been able to remain one step ahead of us. With Drusilla in our possession, we will have access to valuable information.”

“We don’t know that she’ll work for us,” Lilah objected. “She could decide to remain obstinate. And she’s crazy. We’ll have to take care of her. Personally, I think it would be a drain on Wolfram and Hart’s resources.”

Lindsay gave her a smug smile. “That’s why it’s not just Drusilla we need. The records indicate that William the Bloody was with her for over a hundred years. He took care of her, and apparently he understood her visions even when no one else did. We could still easily retrieve him from Sunnydale, just as we’d planned.”

“Very well thought out,” Holland stated. “If you’re correct, this William the Bloody will do anything in order to protect Drusilla, and if he’s incapable of harming humans, we shouldn’t have a difficult time controlling him.”

Lilah didn’t like the sound of things. It appeared as though Lindsay had come up with the perfect plan to get himself back in favor, something that she didn’t want to have happen. In fact, the worse Lindsay looked, the better Lilah would appear in contrast.

Holland continued. “Lilah, I want you to collect Drusilla. Lindsay, you can get Spike, just as we discussed. You’ll have to work around the Slayer, of course, but I’m sure an intelligent young man such as yourself will come up with a plan.”

Lindsay gave his co-worker a smug grin. “Oh, I’m sure.”

~~~~~

Wesley and Drusilla were headed back towards his apartment. He’d decided that he didn’t mind sharing space with the woman and had said as much to Angel. Wesley wasn’t certain that he was looking forward to the time when she would be living elsewhere.

He found her intriguing. It was a pale word compared to his growing feelings. Drusilla was beautiful, of course, but more than that she drew him with her strength. For someone to have gone through as much as she had—to be tortured by Angelus, to lose all her family, to be a vampire for so long, only to be killed and brought back as human—Wesley was as much in love with her strength as her beauty.

Her hand was tucked through his arm, and Wesley was pleased with the contact, however chaste. “I miss my sisters,” Drusilla suddenly said out of the blue.

Wesley frowned, trying to figure out where that had come from. “Your sisters?”

“We used to walk together like this,” she explained quietly. “I looked after them, you know.”

Wesley patted her hand comfortingly, unable to think of anything else to do. “I’m so very sorry.”

“Why?” Dru asked. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” Wesley agreed. “But still, I hadn’t even thought of how difficult it must be for you to be alone without your family.”

Dru pressed herself closer to him. “It isn’t so bad. I still have friends.”

Wesley’s mouth went dry, feeling her so close to him. “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat and wishing he could think of something a little better to say. “You do have friends.”

She was about to reply when her eyes widened. “Wesley—” Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the quiet thunk of a tranquilizer dart. Wesley caught her body as she fell unconscious, realizing that they were under attack.

He had come a long way from his days in Sunnydale, when he probably would have screamed and ran. Wesley did nothing of the sort, instead scooping up the unconscious woman and bolting for the nearest alley.

There was the sound of another dart hitting the wall behind him and shouts from their pursuers. It would not be possible for him to run nearly as far or as fast with Drusilla weighing him down. The only choice was to outwit them.

And Wesley prided himself on being able to outwit just about anyone.

~~~~~

Joyce came through the door in a whirlwind of motion. “Buffy? Are you home?”

“In the living room, Mom,” Buffy called back.

“Would you mind giving me a hand, honey? I went grocery shopping on my way home, and—” Joyce was interrupted by Spike, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Can I get those?”

“Oh, thank you, Spike,” Joyce replied, allowing him to take a couple of the bags. “I thought I could carry them all inside.”

Buffy, who had been just a little slower in getting up, frowned. She felt like Spike kept showing her up with her mom. Almost like he was playing the good kid just to make her look bad.

Or, she reminded herself, he just had a soft spot for her mother.

Buffy grabbed one of the remaining bags from Joyce’s arms and carried it into the kitchen. “Are you making dinner tonight, Mom?”

“I thought I might,” Joyce replied. “Especially since we have a guest.”

Buffy very nearly told her mom that Spike wasn’t a guest before she caught herself. She really did need to try and be nicer to the vampire, especially in her mother’s presence. “Spike doesn’t eat people food.”

“Sure I do,” Spike said. “I just don’t need it like you do.”

Joyce shot her daughter a look that plainly said to be nice. Which made Buffy a little angry, since she thought she was being nice. “Well, I think it would be nice if Spike could eat with us. I don’t get a chance to have company very often.”

Buffy bit back an exasperated sigh. “I think I might do a quick patrol then, since it’s probably going to be a while.”

“Alright, honey,” Joyce replied. “Dinner should be ready in about an hour and a half.” She watched as her daughter left. “How are you, Spike?”

Spike looked up, surprised at being asked. “I’m alright,” he replied. “I, uh—” He hesitated, unused to being polite. “Thanks. For lettin’ me stay.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Joyce replied warmly.

Spike fell silent, watching as Joyce finished putting her groceries away and started making dinner. He’d promised Dru that he’d try to make the woman listen about being sick, but he had no idea where to start. “How are you, Joyce?” he asked, hoping that something she said would allow him to broach the subject.

“Oh, I’m fine.” She went about her business, and Spike bit back a sigh. He had no idea what to do now. “Well, I’ve been having these headaches lately,” Joyce admitted, almost as an afterthought. “I’m sure they’re nothing.”

Spike knew this was his chance. “Maybe you should get that checked out.”

Joyce shrugged. “The doctors will probably just tell me I’m being silly.”

“Dru said she could see you were sick,” Spike replied. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but she’s not usually wrong ‘bout things like this.”

Joyce was still not quite used to the supernatural. She’d been unaware for years, and then she’d convinced herself that the things she saw weren’t really there. Looking back, Joyce knew how deeply denial had become entrenched in her reactions. She could see Spike’s real concern for her, and thought perhaps she might try listening to him. “I’ll make an appointment with the doctor.”

Spike nodded, glad that duty had been discharged at least. “Good. That’s good.”

Joyce paused to smile at him warmly. “Thank you, Spike.”

“For what?”

“For being concerned.”

Spike couldn’t help but feel a warm glow at her words.

~~~~~

When Buffy returned from patrol, it was late, and she was tired. Compared to the past few nights, the graveyards had been hopping. The Slayer was getting just a little tired of the whole thing. If it wasn’t vampires, it was demons. And if it wasn’t demons, it was something else just as nasty.

The house was silent as she entered, and Buffy found a note from her mom on the kitchen counter, letting her know that she’d set aside a plate for her and it was in the fridge. She stuck the plate in the microwave. As Faith had often commented, slaying always made her hungry and horny. Thankfully she could satisfy her hunger at least.

“Talked to your mum tonight.”

Spike’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere, causing Buffy to start. “Geez, Spike, make a little noise or something.”

He grinned at her in the dim light of the kitchen. Buffy could smell cigarette smoke, and guessed that he’d been out on the back porch. “Jumpy tonight?”

“No,” Buffy replied. “You just came out of nowhere.”

“Which made you jump,” he pointed out relentlessly.

Buffy decided to do what she did best when confronted by that kind of logic: change the subject. “What do you mean you talked to Mom tonight?”

Spike lifted an eyebrow, indicating that he knew exactly what she was doing. “About what Dru said. She’s been havin’ headaches, an’ she said she’d go to the doctor.”

Buffy wasn’t sure whether or not she should be pleased. On the one hand, if Drusilla was right, then it was a good thing her mom was going to see the doctor. On the other hand, Buffy really didn’t want the ex-vampire to be right. “Well, that’s good,” she finally replied lamely, pulling her plate out of the microwave. “Just in case.”

There was a long pause as Spike watched her eat. Buffy didn’t know what to say, so she ended up settling for uncomfortable silence. It went on for a while, longer than Buffy cared for, that was for certain. Buffy was afraid she’d say something she’d regret if she opened her mouth.

“’m goin’ to watch the telly,” Spike abruptly announced, turning to leave the kitchen.

Buffy watched him go, debating whether or not to join him. She wasn’t quite ready for bed yet, and it would be nice to have company for a while. After putting her dishes in the dishwasher, she went out into the living room, sitting down next to Spike on the couch, although they weren’t touching.

Spike glanced over at her once while idly flipping through the channels. “Wait,” Buffy said. “That looks good.”

It was a rerun of Friends, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spike put the remote down. They watched the program without comment, Spike stealing occasional glimpses at the Slayer. Wondering how far she’d let him get, Spike stretched, letting his arm rest along the back of the couch so that his forearm was just behind her head.

Buffy, knowing exactly what he was doing, decided she didn’t care. In fact, she was beginning to wonder how far Spike would try to push it. When he made no more moves in her direction, Buffy decided to up the ante slightly, shifting her position on the couch as though trying to get comfortable, and ending up just a few inches closer.

Spike sat frozen, hardly able to believe his luck when Buffy moved just a little closer. After a brief moment of indecision he moved his arm so that his hand was right behind her head—and then he started playing with her hair.

Buffy knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this at all. She shouldn’t even be sitting here. By all rights, she should have ordered Spike to stay in the basement or something, but no. Here she was, sitting on the couch next to a vampire, and very much enjoying the feeling of his hand in her hair.

She missed being touched like that.

Spike, who was getting braver with every passing second that she didn’t punch him, started caressing her neck, his thumb rubbing small circles. Her sigh of pleasure was encouragement enough to continue, and he started massaging her neck in earnest.

“Don’t stop,” Buffy murmured, relishing the sensation. “Please.”

“I’ll keep it up as long as you want,” Spike replied, deliberately using the double entendre.

Buffy decided to let the comment slide since she was enjoying his hands so much. “Good. Then you can do it forever.”

Spike paused for a moment, wondering if she realized that forever was a very real possibility for him. “Can think of other things we could do too, Buffy.”

She stiffened. “I can’t, Spike.”

He kept going, pressing harder into tight muscles, forcing her to relax. “Right. Evil vampire, I get it.”

“Do you ever wish things were different?” Buffy asked softly, not even believing that she was talking to Spike like this. Like he was a friend—or more than a friend.

“Sometimes,” he confessed, his own voice equally low—intimate. “Not often, though.”

Buffy leaned back into his touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.”

“It’s completely wrong.”

“Absolutely.”

“And even if we did do something, it would just be physical, you know. I mean, it couldn’t ever be more than that for either of us.”

“Of course not.”

“Except of course if we were friends, and then it would just be like—like—” Buffy couldn’t find an appropriate analogy to use. What did you call it if you weren’t really friends but you slept together? Because she was already thinking about how good Spike’s hands were going to feel somewhere else.

“Friends with benefits?” he suggested.

Buffy considered. “Well, allies with benefits, anyway.”

“Are we actually havin’ this conversation?” Spike asked with some amusement.

“No,” Buffy replied. “Okay, yes, we’re having this conversation, but it’s just hypothetical.”

“We could test that theory,” Spike suggested.

The Slayer groaned slightly. “We could, except that my mom is here, so no.”

“When this is all over then,” Spike said quietly.

“Maybe,” Buffy replied, turning to face him. “I don’t know. It’s probably stupid to even think about it.”

“Probably,” Spike whispered—and then kissed her.

All of Buffy’s doubts about the wisdom of embarking on another relationship with a vampire evaporated at the feel of his lips. Not that they weren’t still valid concerns, but suddenly kissing said vampire just seemed so much more important.

~~~~~

It had been sheer luck that got Wesley to the motel in one piece without being seen. He had managed to evade his pursuers, even with Drusilla as a burden. At one point in the nightmarish trip, Wesley had realized that if he went back towards Cordelia’s apartment, as Wolfram and Hart most likely expected, he would probably run into trouble. It would be a better idea to find a spot to hole up for a while, at least until he could be assured of leaving safely.

After settling Drusilla on the single bed, he quickly dialed Cordy’s number. “Hello?” came the sleepy response.

“Cordelia?”

“Who else would it be at—” There was a slight pause. “—two in the morning? And why are you calling at two in the morning, anyway?”

“We were attacked on the way home,” Wesley replied.

Her tone sharpened. “Are you alright? Is Dru—”

“Here with me,” Wesley replied. “I managed to evade them, but Drusilla was hit by some kind of tranquilizer dart and hasn’t woken yet.”

Wesley could hear a hissed conversation and suddenly it was Angel’s voice on the other end. “Are you safe?”

“For now,” Wesley replied. “I don’t think we were followed.”

Angel let out a breath. “Good. Stay where you are and look after Dru. I’m going to do what I can to figure out what’s going on.”

“Angel, be careful,” Wesley warned.

“You too,” Angel replied. “I’m counting on you to take care of her, Wes.”

Wesley heard the click on the other end and put the handset down. He stood next to the bed, hesitating. There really wasn’t a choice for sleeping arrangements other than the floor. With a deep sigh, he toed off his shoes and lay down next to the unconscious woman. After a moment of indecision, Wesley took Drusilla’s hand in his own, hoping his touch would comfort her as she began to awaken.

And even though he didn’t mean to, Wesley soon drifted off to sleep.
 

Chapter 13: Spoils to the Victor

When Drusilla began to awaken, it was to the feel of a warm body pressed close to hers, her hand enfolded in a larger one. Even though she felt a little too warm from the contact, Dru found herself relishing the sensations. She recognized Wesley’s unique scent of soap and cologne, an earthy, masculine smell that sent a bolt of desire to the core of her being.

Drusilla might be a good girl, but that didn’t mean she was dead. At least, not anymore.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head to see Wesley’s face on the pillow next to her. Unsure of what her next move might be, Drusilla stayed still. After a few minutes, Wesley began to stir, his eyes widening when he saw her. “Drusilla,” he pulled back quickly. “Forgive me, I—”

“You what?” Her voice was still husky from sleep and the drugs that had been in the dart.

Wesley swallowed convulsively. “I, uh, I had to, uh, get a single room,” he said quietly. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed.”

A wicked smile crossed Drusilla’s face. “I suppose it will be alright. Are you planning on keeping your hands to yourself?”

The flush creeping into Wesley’s cheeks pleased her to no end. “Of course,” he assured her. “I would never—”

Her widening grin cut off his words. “Because I’m not certain that’s such a good plan.”

“Drusilla!” Wesley exclaimed. He was unsure what to do with this rather assertive woman. He wondered if she’d always been like this or if something had changed in the last 24 hours. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

Of course, Wesley made no move to get off the bed or to release her hand. “Why not?” she asked, inching closer. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

That was a stupid question. Wesley had actually been trying very hard not to think about kissing her for the last few days. “Well, you see, as a matter of fact—”

Drusilla decided she needed to take action. She liked him. She more than liked him. For once, Dru didn’t want to be a good girl—she wanted to enjoy herself. Plus, she was psychic, so she knew exactly what she was getting into with Wesley.

The fact that he didn’t have the same advantage didn’t bother Drusilla in the least. She planned on being very careful with this man. The glimpses she’d caught of the future suggested that it might be bright indeed.

Her lips caught the rest of what he might have said, and though the kiss they shared was gentle, it shut Wesley up rather effectively. When he pulled back, the soft light in his eyes told her she’d done the right thing. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Do I look uncertain?” Drusilla asked, pulling him back in.

Wesley had to say that she seemed to know exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

~~~~~

Buffy was arguing with herself. It wasn’t an uncommon problem for her. There often seemed to be two people inside her head, each wanting something completely different. On this particular morning there was one voice that was urging her to forget all about the heated make out session she’d had with Spike.

The other voice was arguing just as strongly for going to the basement, waking him up, and starting all over again.

The second voice was winning.

Buffy bit back a groan. She knew it was stupid to even think about starting up a relationship with another vampire. Especially when that vampire was evil and unsouled.

Except that Spike really wasn’t that evil. Sure, he liked to talk about how bad he was, but Buffy had seen him with Drusilla. It was pretty obvious that he would do just about anything for somebody he cared about.

And, yes, Buffy did realize how insane it was to talk about a soulless vampire “caring” about anyone or anything.

Of course, it wasn’t like Spike had ever been normal or anything. What other vampire liked little marshmallows in his hot chocolate?

Buffy was well aware that the idea of them embarking on something physical without their hearts getting involved was ludicrous. She already knew she felt something for him—she just didn’t know what it was yet.

She wondered if Spike thought of her as more than just the Slayer, more than a trophy to be obtained. She thought the severity of his reaction to her lying to him was a clue. Spike had been pissed off enough to suggest that she had the capability of hurting him, which seemed to indicate that he might care for her more than he let on.

Then there was that little niggling doubt again, because even if he did care—at all—it didn’t mean he’d stick around. Angel and Riley had both cared, and they had left. Buffy almost thought it would be easier if neither she nor Spike shared more than lusty feelings, since that might keep both their hearts intact.

“You’re thinkin’ awful hard.”

Buffy whirled to face him, noting that he didn’t have his shirt on again. The sight of his well-toned chest and abs caused all rational thought to go right out of her head. “Would you stop that?” she demanded. “You’re always doing that!”

“Doin’ what?”

“Sneaking up on me!” Buffy snapped. “Should I get you a bell?”

“Does it come with a leather collar?” he asked, leering.

Somehow Buffy didn’t find his leer nearly as annoying today as she had in the past. “It might, if I thought it would help.”

Spike’s face softened slightly, and he gave her a genuine smile. “Gotta get my kicks somehow, Slayer,” he replied.

When Buffy merely rolled her eyes at him and went about the business of finding something to eat, Spike cleared his throat. “We need to talk about last night.”

“What about last night?” Buffy said, wanting to give nothing away. She wanted to hear what Spike had to say for himself first.

“Don’t play that game with me, Slayer,” Spike growled. “You know what about last night.”

Buffy sighed. “No, actually I don’t. If this is about the fact that we kissed, we kissed, Spike. That doesn’t mean we have to do anything about it.”

Spike scowled at her. “Why not? Are we doing the whole ‘me, Slayer, you, evil vampire’ thing again, because that’s gettin’ old.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy shot back, sounding just as frustrated. “What do you want?”

“What do you want?”

They stared at each other in a stalemate that didn’t look to be ending any time soon. Something in Spike’s eyes gave Buffy the courage to say, “I don’t know why you want me.”

“Because—”

She interrupted him again. “I mean, I don’t know if this is just—you know, about kissing, or if you—” Buffy winced. “Have feelings.”

The last two words were spoken in such a low tone that Spike probably would have missed them if he hadn’t been a vampire. “What kind of feelings?”

Buffy blushed. “Well, feelings.”

Spike was beginning to become amused. The Slayer’s ability to live in the land of denial was truly amazing. “If you’re askin’ if I want you dead, the answer’s no, pet.”

“That’s good,” Buffy said, knowing how lame it sounded even as the words left her mouth. “Because I don’t really want you dead either.”

He took a predatory step forward. “That right? Anything else goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours I should know about?”

Buffy’s mouth was watering. Literally. Why was it that Spike could stop her brain from working at ten feet? It wasn’t fair for a person of the undead persuasion to be that sexy. It would be so much easier if he were human. Or had a soul. Anything that would let her haul him upstairs and make use of the empty house guilt-free.

“There might be some friendly feelings there,” Buffy admitted.

Spike smirked. “Really? Matter of fact, I might have some friendly feelin’s of my own.”

Buffy took a step forward. “What are you going to do about it?”

He didn’t allow her to wonder for long. Spike had been thinking about kissing her again pretty much from the moment she’d gone upstairs the night before. He was just amazed that she wasn’t running in the opposite direction. She was, in fact, an enthusiastic participant.

As had happened the previous night, Buffy found the little voice in her head that warned her about what a bad idea this was became completely silent when Spike’s lips met hers. When his tongue came out to play, all coherent thought left her head completely.

Her hands on bare skin, Buffy pulled him close—as close as two people could get without sharing the same skin. They were so caught up in the moment, and in the sensations, that they didn’t realize they had a visitor.

At least not until Willow cleared her throat. “If you guys are done playing tonsil hockey…”

Buffy broke away from Spike somewhat sheepishly. “Willow.”

Willow had a smug grin on her face. “I thought you said you didn’t have the hots for Spike.”

The Slayer opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t, but the words wouldn’t come. It would be an outright lie given what Willow had witnessed with her own eyes. “Whoops.”

Spike, not at all happy with the interruption, crossed his arms in front of his bare chest. “What is it, Red?”

Willow flashed him a bright smile, not at all phased by his growly tone. “Angel called. Wolfram and Hart went after Drusilla last night. I guess Wesley got her out of harm’s way, and they’re holed up somewhere. Angel just wanted to give us a head’s up.”

“You couldn’t have just called?” Spike asked sardonically.

Willow shrugged. “I could have, but Buffy and I were supposed to hang out today.” She gave her friend a look. “You still up for it?”

Buffy hesitated, and then threw an apologetic look at Spike. “Do you mind?”

Spike minded, but the fact that Buffy wasn’t actively freaking out that Willow had caught them kissing was something. She was also asking him if he minded in a tone of voice that suggested what he said mattered. “S’pose not. We can suss this out later.”

“Absolutely,” Buffy said, almost too cheerfully. She was grateful for the reprieve. “We can definitely ‘suss’ away.”

Spike watched her dash out of the kitchen, meeting Willow’s eyes. “Well? You got somethin’ to say to me?”

Willow smiled, although there was a bite to her tone. “You hurt her, and I will make you wish you’d never been born.”

Somehow, Spike found himself believing her.

~~~~~

“Want to tell me what I walked in on?” Willow asked as soon as they were outside.

Buffy shrugged, refusing to meet Willow’s eyes. “We were kissing.”

“I know that much,” Willow replied, exasperated. “I thought you didn’t like Spike.”

“He grows on a person,” Buffy said. She glanced nervously at Willow. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she suddenly confessed. “It’s just—last night we were sitting on the couch, right? All of a sudden Spike has his hand in my hair, and it felt so good. Then we just started kissing. He’s just been so different lately, Will.”

“So you do like him.”

That seemed like too much of a black-and-white statement for Buffy. “There might be some like there,” she hedged. “He is a really good kisser.”

“So you’re using him for his body.” Although Willow’s tone was both serious and disapproving, she had a suspicious sparkle in her eyes. Buffy was just so much fun to tease.

“No!” Buffy replied. “There’s no using! It’s more like we’re friends with benefits, you know?”

Willow was still trying hard to hide a smile. “You’re friends with Spike.”

Buffy was now officially confused, if she hadn’t been before. “I—yeah, I guess I am,” she said defiantly.

“I knew it,” Willow said smugly. “I knew you had feelings for Spike.”

“And you don’t care?” Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. “It’s not like you’ve never dated a vampire before,” she replied. “Besides, I’ve dated a werewolf, Xander’s with an ex-demon, and you’ve been really supportive about Tara.” Willow gave her friend a serious look. “Are you sure this is what you want, Buffy?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy confessed quietly. “You’re right, Will. There’s something there. I just don’t know what it means yet. I know I could be making a huge mistake, but—”

“Carpe diem?”

“Something like that,” Buffy replied. “Besides, if nothing else my mom likes him. You know how many of my boyfriends Mom’s liked in the past?”

“None?”

“You got it.” Buffy shook her head. “I have a feeling she’ll be thrilled.”

“Xander’s going to flip his lid,” Willow observed.

Buffy snorted. “Since when has Xander been a big fan of me dating anyone?” she asked. “He’s just going to have to learn that he does not get a say in my personal life. If I want to date Spike, I’m going to date Spike.”

Willow didn’t bother pointing out the fact that this was the first time that anyone had suggested that Spike was Buffy’s boyfriend.

~~~~~

Cordy watched Angel pace. “Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Angel grumbled. “It’s not like I can just call up Wolfram and Hart and say, ‘Hey, leave Drusilla alone!’”

Cordelia was curled up in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Why not?”

“Like that’s going to work,” Angel scoffed. “They’ll do what they want. They always do.”

“Why don’t you make sure they won’t come after her then?” Cordelia asked. “I mean, it’s pretty much your job to take care of her, right?”

Angel stared at her. “Yeah, but I can’t stop them.”

“Why not?” Cordelia asked. “It’s not like they’re unkillable or anything. If you just let them know you mean business, maybe that would work. Go find somebody and smack ‘em around a little.” She smiled brightly. “It might even let you work off some of that tension and stop wearing a path in my floor.”

Angel grimaced. “Lilah and Lindsay were both at the raising,” he commented. “Maybe they know what’s going on.”

“Go after Lilah,” Cordelia suggested.

Angel glanced over at her. “Why Lilah?”

“Please,” Cordelia said. “She’s probably not nearly as pissed off at you as Lindsay is. After all, you cut off his hand. Why would he want to do anything for you?”

It was a good point, and Angel nodded slowly. “That might work. At least I might get her to tell me what they want.”

“Good plan,” Cordelia said. “Now go out there and carry it out,” she encouraged.

Angel smiled. “Are you getting fed up with me again?”

Cordy smiled. “No, but I had plans for a nice, hot bath and a good book.”

~~~~~

Drusilla relaxed into Wesley’s touch as he stroked her cheek. “When this is all over, I’m going to show you how wonderful this can be.”

“I can already see it,” Drusilla replied. “It’s dancing in your eyes.”

As much as Wesley really had wanted to make love to her, there was still the possibility that Wolfram and Hart would find them. He hardly wanted to be caught in flagrante delicto. “We’re probably moving too fast,” he murmured regretfully.

“It’s only too fast if you don’t know what you want,” she pointed out.

Wesley smiled in return. “I know what I want,” he replied. “You’re so beautiful.”

Spike had spoken to her in such a manner, even after he’d been turned. The gentle poet had never been completely banished, and he would often speak to her in soft words that would have delighted any woman’s soul.

Angelus had caused her to be incapable of truly appreciating anything but pain.

With the return of her sanity had come the return of her hope for the future. Drusilla could now see what it might be like to have Wesley work his magic on her with his hands and lips. She could very nearly taste the ecstasy to come.

She drew his head down for another kiss, but stiffened as the images intruded.

The threat of sunlight—Drusilla no longer feared it, but it still held danger for Spike. The man speaking to him—threatening him—was the same man who’d had his hand cut off. He was threatening Spike with death unless he cooperated.

The light brightened the room, leaving only one small corner in shade. Spike was effectively trapped and obviously weakened, although he still didn’t seem inclined to cooperate.

Spike never had reacted well to threats.

If they couldn’t have Drusilla, they would take the chip, use the technology for their own gain. And they would leave nothing of Spike behind.

“Drusilla?” Wesley’s concerned voice brought Dru back to reality. She glanced up at the ex-Watcher.

“They have him,” Drusilla said with conviction. “Oh, Wesley, they’re going to hurt him.”

~~~~~

Buffy felt slightly guilty for having been gone all day. She had figured that Spike probably could use the time to sleep, but she’d also needed the time away from him. Time to think about what had happened between the two of them.

Of what she wanted to happen.

She didn’t think she could stop it now if she tried. Buffy believed that whatever hung between them would have to be ridden out to its end, whatever that end might be. Perhaps it was foolish. She knew Giles would certainly tell her as much when he found out that there was something between her and Spike.

At the moment, however, Buffy really didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his lips on hers again.

The front door was open when she got home, and Buffy blinked in surprise and a sudden sense of fear. She rushed inside. “Mom? Spike?”

There was no answer, and Buffy rushed through the rooms on the first floor, finding them empty. Only a few things were out of place, but it was enough to send fear into her heart and to have Buffy rushing to the basement. She knew full well that Joyce had most likely not returned home again. “Spike?”

His cot was empty, the blankets tangled, the indentation from his body still clear on the thin mattress. With fading hope, Buffy ran up two flights of stairs to find the second floor empty as well.

Spike was gone.
 

Chapter 14: Perseverance

Wesley's call, as might be expected, came moments after Angel had left Cordelia's apartment. "They have Spike."

Cordelia blinked. It took her a second to recognize the voice on the other end of the phone. "Wes? What—"

"Drusilla just had another vision," Wesley said quickly. "Wolfram and Hart have Spike."

She sighed. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Huh?"

"What do you want me to do about it, Wes?" she repeated with ill-concealed impatience. "Angel left to go scare Lilah, and I don't know what you expect me to do."

"Angel's gone?" Wesley asked, thinking quickly. "Alright. I just thought if he was there—"

"I'll give him the message when he gets back," Cordelia assured him. "I'm sure we'll figure something out. How's Drusilla?"

She could almost hear him blush over the phone. "We're—she's just fine."

His slip was telling. "I take it you guys found a way to pass the time," she commented.

"That's none of your business," Wesley replied primly. "Given recent developments, however, I think it might be best for us to stay where we are."

"You do that, Wes," Cordy replied, only half-kidding. "It's probably better for Drusilla to be out of sight until we get this figured out."

They said their goodbyes, and she hung up the phone. She had a feeling that Buffy would soon be calling, but decided to take the cordless into the bathroom with her.

Not that she would admit it, but she hoped that it took the Slayer just a little while to figure out that Spike had been nabbed. Cordelia really needed some time to herself.

~~~~~

Giles' head went up as Buffy stormed into his flat. "They got him."

"I beg your pardon?"

"They took Spike," Buffy said, an edge of panic to her voice. "Those lawyers have him."

He frowned. "Are you certain? Perhaps he just went out, or—"

"The door to my house was open when I got home, just after sunset, and Spike wasn't there," Buffy said flatly. "Besides, I saw the same black SUV go back and forth along my street yesterday." The Slayer slammed her fist into the back of the couch, which shook ominously. "I never should have left the house."

Giles cleared his throat. "Perhaps. On the other hand, they might have come in while you were there and taken both of you. There's no way to be certain, Buffy."

She frowned. "Maybe so, but it doesn't matter now. We need to get him back."

Her Watcher pulled off his glasses. "I suppose we ought to call Angel," he said. "If they've managed to get Spike, they might well find Drusilla."

"Dammit," Buffy said, frustrated. "I can't believe I let Spike get taken. I was supposed to be protecting him."

Giles gave her a concerned look. "Buffy, you're doing your best, I'm sure. Spike is a vampire. If they need him so badly, I doubt they're planning on dusting him."

"We don't know that!" Buffy objected. "Spike makes me want to dust him, and I—" She stopped there, fearful of giving too much away. "I should call Angel."

Giles watched her dash away to use his phone, his curiosity peaking. Just the other day, Buffy had seemed to think of Spike as no more than an annoyance, and now—

It really was too horrifying to contemplate, so he shoved that thought to the back of his mind. There was no way Buffy would get involved with another vampire. Not after what had happened with Angel.

He was very nearly certain of it.

~~~~~

Lilah really didn't like the look that Holland had on his face. It was bad enough that Lindsay had succeeded in capturing Spike. The vampire was still passed out and trussed up in a specially prepared office. She, on the other hand, had been unsuccessful in even locating Drusilla after Wesley managed to spirit her away.

Here she'd thought the man incapable of anything heroic.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Lilah?" Holland finally asked.

Lilah didn't like his tone of voice either. She knew that the better Lindsay looked to the eyes of the Senior Partners, the worse she looked in comparison. She had worked too long and too hard, had made too many compromises, to give up a choice spot to him now. If there was one thing Lilah Morgan understood it was competition.

The competition at Wolfram and Hart was fierce.

She schooled her face into a placating expression, even though she was screaming on the inside. "I've been doing my best, but—"

"In this case, your best obviously isn't good enough," Holland stated, his tone chiding. "What I want to know is what you're going to do to fix it."

Lilah bit back the snarl in the back of her throat. "I'm working on it. I have our best psychics trying to get a read on her, but it's like she has some sort of shield."

Holland looked thoughtful. "I suppose that's possible. It's often difficult for psychics to see or predict others with similar abilities."

Seeing her chance, Lilah took it. "Look, sir, I realize that I might have done better, but this was Lindsay's project. I've got a lot on my plate right now, and I think it might be a good idea to let him take over this part. There's the telekinetic that we've been working on, plus the Gorman case. I don't want to give those projects less than my best when I'm in charge."

Holland seemed to consider her logic for a moment. "You're right, Lilah. I have been unfair. Lindsay ought to be the one in charge of retrieving Drusilla. I'll notify him immediately. I'm sure he'll come up with a solution to our little problem."

It was a thinly veiled barb, but Lilah decided that it didn't matter. She was well and truly clear of the whole mess, which was a very good thing. Her woman's intuition was telling her that this whole situation could blow up in their faces at any time.

She didn't particularly want to be there for that.

Grabbing a couple files from her office, Lilah stuffed them into her attache case and headed for her car. She'd spent enough long nights at the office to justify an evening at home. She'd have a glass of wine, turn on the TV, and go through her notes. It would be the perfect way to take her mind off what had been a hellish day.

That meant that it could only get worse. After all, just because she couldn't see anyone in the rearview mirror, didn't mean no one was there.

Angel's arm snaked around the back of her seat and pinned her against the plush leather. Lilah tried to stifle her gasp, but she was quite sure that the vampire heard her heart rate accelerate dramatically.

"You have such a pretty neck," he murmured. "I'm thinking of snapping it. Want to know why?"

"Why?" she asked, deciding to play dumb.

Angel was onto her game. "You're a clever girl," he replied. "You know why. I want to know what you want with Dru."

Lilah knew she had a couple of choices. She could keep her mouth shut and hope that Angel's soul kept him from doing her any lasting harm. Or, she could tell him everything he needed to know to wreck Lindsay's project.

That last option was really appealing, as long as no one found out that she'd spilled her guts.

"We were trying to resurrect Darla," Lilah confessed, deciding that in this case honesty really was the best policy. It wasn't like it mattered anymore. "The idea was to use her to drive you crazy. We wanted you dark."

Angel was impressed. Parading Darla around in front of his nose was bound to make him a little nuts. He still had a load of guilt from dusting her, and a lot of mixed feelings surrounding her. He loved her, but he didn't. He admired her, but she had been evil. He had wanted to be with her, even if it meant losing everything he'd worked so hard for.

Drusilla, on the other hand, simply poured gasoline on the flame of his guilt. There was nothing ambivalent about his feelings for her. Angel wanted to protect her, to make sure no one had the chance to do the same things he'd done.

In short, Angel wanted to save her with the same intensity that once he'd sought to damn her.

"Not a bad plan," he conceded. "What happened?"

Lilah sighed, feeling him loosen his grip slightly. "I don't know. The spell went wrong, and Drusilla came back instead."

"You were still going to try and use her to get to me."

It was a statement, not a question, and Lilah nodded. "Until Lindsay discovered that Drusilla has visions. Then he came up with the bright idea just to use her."

Angel didn't miss the bitterness in her tone, and he silently exulted. This rivalry between Lilah and Lindsay would hurt them in the end, of that he was sure. As long as Angel could hope to turn one against the other, he might yet manage to save Drusilla. "What about Spike?"

"We're going to make him an offer he can't refuse." Lilah tried to shift in her seat in order to see Angel's face, but his arm was keeping her immobile. "He's supposed to be the one that takes care of her."

Angel frowned. There was no way Spike would go along with whatever plan they cooked up. He was annoyingly independent. And, where it concerned Dru, the other vampire would cut off a limb to keep her safe.

Then, something about what Lilah said caught his attention. "Wait a minute," Angel said. "Where is Spike?"

"Wolfram and Hart has him," Lilah replied, surprised he didn't already know. "I would have thought—"

Angel frowned. He didn't like being left out of the loop, but then he'd been waiting inside the parking garage for Lilah to come out for a while now. "How do I get him back?"

That kind of betrayal would be far too hard to hide. "I can't tell you that," Lilah said. "You'll have to figure it out for yourself."

His arm like a vise around her throat, Angel ground out. "Actually, you are going to tell me, Lilah. You know why? Because people like you are much more interested in saving their own skins than in company loyalty. I might not like Spike, but he is family."

"Seventh floor," Lilah finally said. "But I don't know how you think you're going to get inside. The alarms go off as soon as a vampire enters the building."

Angel smiled grimly, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "I'll figure something out."

~~~~~

When Spike woke, he was still feeling fuzzy-headed from the drugs they'd pumped into him. He had gone back downstairs to get some more sleep after Buffy had left, only to wake at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He'd been expecting the Slayer, which was why it took him a moment to realize that the scent he was catching was of men's aftershave, not Buffy's usual vanilla.

By the time Spike realized that the scent belonged to neither Giles nor Xander—the only two men who might enter the Slayer's house without waiting for someone to answer the door—it was too late. He had two tranq darts embedded in his chest, and Spike was out like a light.

There wasn't even the chance to put up a fight, which really annoyed him.

The room they'd put him in was dark, for the most part, although he could see light through the window. Even though it was hours till daybreak, Spike could feel his skin crawl. He had no way to protect himself from the sunlight, and he could all too easily imagine himself bursting into flame.

Right when things were actually getting good between him and the Slayer, too.

Spike wasn't quite sure whether or not to hope for rescue or escape. The chip would make fighting nearly impossible, and there was no telling whether or not Buffy would come after him.

Actually, she probably would, if only because Wolfram and Hart snatching him out from under her nose would have royally pissed her off.

It was too much to hope that her relatively friendly feelings for him would be strong enough to send her rushing in to the rescue.

Spike struggled with the bonds around his wrists. It felt like plastic of some sort, but it was strong enough to prevent him from snapping it. After a few minutes of fruitless struggle, he realized that he wasn't going to free his hands through strength alone. The next best thing was to get his hands in front, rather than behind him.

That process went a little better, and after nearly wrenching his shoulder out of its socket, his hands were in front, allowing Spike to inspect the bonds more closely.

They did look like they were plastic, but obviously not your standard stuff. Whoever had put them on his wrists had cinched them tight, and Spike knew that he'd cut himself up pretty badly in his struggles.

He now had half a chance at doing something, however. Spike got himself standing and went over to the door. It was, of course, locked, and he tried forcing it open with his shoulder. The door rattled in its frame, but it wouldn't so much as budge.

Spike frowned, wondering if his inability to force it open was due to whatever drug was left in his system or if it was the door.

Giving it one more powerful shove with his shoulder, Spike finally sat down on the floor again. There was nothing in the room, no furniture, nothing on the walls—except for the uncovered window.

And there was no way Buffy would manage to get him out before the sun rose.

~~~~~

They didn't have much of a plan, but Buffy wasn't willing to take the time to come up with one, not when they could be driving to L.A. A quick call to her mom, and Joyce had willingly lent her Jeep to Giles, since it was big enough to handle the four of them.

Tara and Willow were talking quietly in the back seat. They had made a stop at the magic store for basic supplies, hoping that they would be able to find anything else they needed in L.A. Buffy glanced over at Giles, who had put up surprisingly little fuss about heading out immediately. Perhaps her urgency was contagious, Buffy thought.

Giles was the first to break the silence. "Would you like to tell me what's going on, Buffy?"

"What?" She frowned. "We're trying to stop evil lawyers from using Spike."

Giles lifted an eyebrow. "Somehow I don't think your haste can be attributed solely to your desire to stop Wolfram and Hart."

'Crap,' Buffy thought irritably. She didn't want to talk about her feelings for Spike, but she had a feeling that was where this was going. "They came into my house and kidnapped one of my friends, Giles," she said reasonably. "That tends to piss me off."

"So you're calling Spike a 'friend' now?"

The careful tone caused Buffy to freeze. Spike was a friend, as hard as it was to admit to it. Her life would be infinitely more boring without him. Just the thought of losing him sent a bolt of panic through her that she didn't care to examine too closely. "Um, yes?" Buffy tried, hoping that her Watcher wouldn't ask too many more questions.

Giles breathed out a sound that was almost a sigh. The very tone of his Slayer's voice gave her away, whether she knew it or not. At least last time Buffy had been on "friendly" terms with Spike, it had been the result of Willow 's spell, and that had gone away. Now, however, it looked very much as though his worst fears were being confirmed.

He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it just as quickly. "I do hope you know what you're doing, Buffy."

It was pointless to tell her that she had no business taking up with another vampire. Buffy had always done exactly what she wanted. The fears surrounding Spike's chip were just the same as they had been a few weeks ago, when Giles would have counted on Buffy to stake him should there be a problem.

Except, knowing Spike and his history, Giles also knew that if Spike's feelings for Buffy were similarly softening, it could be even better than the chip. A vampire's nature was to kill, but Spike had gone above and beyond his nature in his intense devotion to Drusilla. Should he develop the same level of devotion to Buffy, it was possible that he might actually be able to transcend his demon's inherent thirst for blood.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing, Giles," Buffy said quietly. "I just know that I want a chance to figure it out."

To her relief, Giles nodded. "All I will say then is be careful."

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