Chapter 5: Corrupting the Young

Spike woke late the next morning. He hadn’t been able to get more than a few hours sleep for a while now, so it didn’t surprise him that he had woken before noon. He was incredibly relieved to be able to scent Dawn in the house. As angry as she had been last night, Spike wasn’t entirely certain she would agree to come over.

When he straggled down the stairs, she stood from the couch to greet him. “Hey, Bit.” Dawn stalked over to him and kicked him sharply in the shin. “Ow,” he protested.

“That was for even thinking about leaving.” Dawn glared at him fiercely.

“’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Her glare softened. “You can’t leave, Spike.”

“Not goin’ to,” he replied. “Not sure I could.” He considered the girl for a minute, then said, “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Dawn asked, surprised. “Buffy said we were just supposed to hang out today.”

Spike shrugged. “No sense in hangin’ out here,” he replied. “Easiest place to find either one of us. Let’s go.”

The vampire threw on a leather jacket and grabbed a blanket before making a mad dash for the sewers. Dawn, with some nose wrinkling, followed. The girl was still trying to decide if following Spike through the tunnels was very cool or very icky when she realized that his duster was missing. “Spike? Where’s your coat?”

“Huh?” He turned to look at her, momentarily distracted from figuring their route. “Oh, it got some of that stink on it th’ other night. ‘m hopin’ it airs out after a while, or I won’t be wearin’ it again.”

Dawn frowned in disappointment. “That sucks,” she commented. “That’s the coolest coat.”

There was a strange look that passed over Spike’s face, but he simply nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

“Have you had it for a long time?” she asked, unaware of the potential land mines that question could set off.

Spike hesitated, then nodded, slowing down so that they were walking side by side. “Yeah. ‘Bout thirty years now, I guess. Long time.”

“Is there a story to how you got it?” Dawn asked eagerly, sensing that there was, and dying to know. As attached as Spike was to the coat, she couldn’t help but think it had some sort of sentimental value. What she wasn’t thinking about were the implications of using “sentimental value” and “vampire” in the same sentence.

Spike shook his head. “Not much of one. Not anything you’d want to hear, at least.”

“Come on,” Dawn coaxed, punching him in the arm. “I know there’s a story there. How’d you get it?”

“It’s not important,” Spike insisted.

“Please?”

“Let it go, Dawn,” Spike flared, and immediately felt guilty when Dawn’s face fell alarmingly. He sighed, realizing that he’d scared her. The girl had never seen him angry before, not at her anyway. “Look, ‘m sorry. It’s not something I want to think about, an’ it’s not a story for little ears. Your sis would kill me if I told you.”

Dawn scowled. “I’m not a baby, Spike.”

“Yeah, you are,” he replied, half serious. When her frown deepened, he sighed, looking over at her. “Look, luv, you’re fourteen. ‘m a hundred and—” Spike quickly did the math, then blinked. “’m a lot older than you,” he improvised. “To me, you’re a baby.”

“Then Buffy should be a baby too,” Dawn replied archly, with impeccable logic. She knew she’d scored when Spike grunted instead of giving her a real reply. “Spike—”

Hearing the wheedling quality in her voice, Spike turned to look at her seriously. “You really think you’re old enough to hear this?” he asked, his tone hard. Dawn was a girl still, but if she insisted on growing up, he wasn’t going to pull his punches. She nodded. “Pulled that coat off a dead Slayer. A Slayer I killed in New York, back in the 70’s. We fought, I snapped her neck, an’ I took her coat as a trophy. Satisfied?”

Dawn stared at her friend, not sure how she was supposed to feel now. If she thought she’d be happy that he had told her, she was wrong. Instead, she felt a little sick. Dawn had never really seen Spike as someone to be afraid of. She had only ever heard of Buffy speak of Spike as an irritant, not as any real threat. He’d drunk cocoa in her kitchen and moaned about his love life to her mother. Suddenly, however, Dawn understood that he had truly been a killer. Not just a vampire, but the Slayer of Slayers.

Spike wouldn’t meet her eyes as he watched understanding wash across her features. “’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I’m glad you did,” Dawn said, trying to sound sure of herself. “It means you really have changed. Nobody else seems to get that, but I do.” When Spike shook his head, as if to contradict her, Dawn grabbed his hand. “I watched that demon almost slice you in half because you wanted to protect me. I didn’t get it before, how much that meant.”

Spike pulled her to his chest, almost against his own will, aware of the strange picture that they made. A young girl and a vampire, bonding in the sewer tunnels. “Would kill me if somethin’ happened to you,” he explained. “’d do anythin’ to keep you safe, includin’ turning the world upside down.”

She nodded, and pulled away. “So, where are we going?”

“The movies,” he replied, pointing down the tunnel.

Dawn looked at him. “Spike, I don’t have any money for the movies.”

He gave her an evil grin. “Way we’re doin’ this, we don’t need money.”

~~~~~

Dawn had never snuck into a movie theater before, especially not through the sewers. She had to admit that it was fun, the jolt of adrenalin, stemming from fear of being caught, adding spice to the adventure. Since she was certain that sneaking into a movie without paying would definitely be on Buffy’s list of “Things That Corrupt My Kid Sister,” she’d resolved not to tell her where they’d been.

Spike seemed to agree, and they decided to tell her they’d done nothing when they met her back at the Summers’ house, as agreed. What they hadn’t considered was that Buffy would know they weren’t at Spike’s all day.

“Where have you guys been?” she demanded.

Spike and Dawn exchanged guilty glances, telling Buffy that she probably didn’t want to know. “Went to the movies,” the vampire finally admitted, as casually as possible.

His tone was way too innocent for there not to be any more to the story than that, and Buffy cocked one eyebrow in disbelief. “Okay. What else did you do today?”

“We went to a couple movies,” Dawn said. As she was a much better liar than Spike was, she artfully changed the subject. “You weren’t supposed to be home for a while.”

“I got off early,” Buffy said. “It was slow and there were too many waitresses.” She sighed. “Look, I don’t know what has the two of you looking like that, but I don’t want to know. Just—Spike, don’t even think about getting Dawn into any kind of trouble. Social Services would just love it if I screwed up.”

“We’re not goin’ to get into trouble. You think I’d let them catch us?” Spike winced, realizing that he’d tacitly admitted to illegal activity.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Pay for the movies next time, okay?” She shook her head. “I swear, you two…”

“What’s for dinner?” Dawn asked, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible.

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even think there’s anything in the fridge right now. I haven’t had time to go grocery shopping the last couple days. We can pick something up on the way to the Magic Box.”

“’nother meeting tonight?” Spike asked.

Buffy sighed. “Something like that. I told him we’d stop by before patrol, anyway, and I need to get some training done. Also, Willow and Tara are working on protection spells for the house and the shop. Willow offered to do your house too.”

Spike looked touched and doubtful at the same time. “Dunno. It’s nice of them to offer, but magic can have funny consequences.”

“Oh, Tara and Willow can handle it,” Dawn assured him. “They’re kick-ass witches.”

“Dawn! Language!” Buffy reproved. Turning to Spike, she asked, “Are you coming?”

He shook his head, waving a hand at the light filtering through the curtains of the living room. “Too bright out just yet. ‘ll take the tunnels an’ meet you there after a bit. I’m feelin’ a bit peckish anyway, so I should swing by my place first.”

Buffy’s cheeks turned just a little pink as she said, “Actually, I got some blood for you the other day. You could just eat here and follow. Or we could wait.”

Dawn sighed. If Spike and Buffy kept it up with the googly eyes, she was going to be sick. “Just let me know when we’re going to leave,” she said, smiling as she turned away and went up the stairs. As disgusting as they could be, she still thought it was sweet, the way they seemed to try and not let the other notice how much they liked each other.

It would be so great if they got together. They could be like a real family.

~~~~~

Lyndon looked at his next weapons. Effrendiks were difficult to control, but if he could manage this, he could cause the Slayer and Spike quite a bit of trouble. He hardly thought the Slayer wanted an insane vampire on her hands. Such an ordeal should soften them up nicely for his next trick.

And that was going to be a stunner.

~~~~~

Spike, Buffy and Dawn came strolling through the front door of the Magic Box shortly after the sun had set. Buffy went to the back of the store to talk to Giles, while Dawn and Spike went to the table where Willow and Tara were going over some books. Spike sprawled out in the chair next to Dawn, looking with some interest at the books that were spread out. “What’s that then?”

“Books dealing with spells of protection,” Willow explained. “We’re trying to find a way to put wards up on everybody’s house. We started thinking about it with Glory, but we just didn’t get the chance to do it right.”

Anya called out from behind the cash register, “Just make sure you pay for the ingredients you use.”

“Yes, Anya,” Willow said, muttering under her breath, “You think she’d give us a discount when we’re doing the wards on her house.”

The others at the table snickered, just thinking about Anya giving a discount to anybody for any reason at all. “We think we’ve finally got it right. In fact, we’re planning on getting started tonight.”

Dawn’s eyes lit up. “Can I help?” At Willow’s quelling look, she amended it. “Can I at least watch?”

“So, do you want us to put the wards up on your house, Spike?” Willow asked, rather than answering Dawn’s question.

Spike was still looking doubtful, although he could certainly see the value of it. “You won’t hurt anythin’ will you? I’ll still be able to come an’ go, an’ all that?”

Tara smiled at him. “It will just give a warning if someone tries to come in who doesn’t belong there. Or if there are magical attacks.”

“Well, that’s okay then,” Spike said, still sounding hesitant. “Long as I don’t wake up as a frog at some point.”

“That might be an improvement,” Buffy teased, her smile growing wider at the glare Spike shot at her. She had approached the table during the course of the conversation with Giles in tow. Xander was looking at the interplay between the two of them with a sense of growing alarm.

Xander might have said something, but Anya came over to him just then and stepped hard on his foot, seemingly reading his mind. He yelped, and then quickly shut his mouth, giving everyone a sheepish look. “Sorry.”

Giles looked over those assembled. “Very well. Buffy and Spike will patrol tonight, and Willow and Tara will work on protection wards.”

“Wait, do we get jobs?” Xander asked raising his hand.

Buffy looked over at him. “I want you guys to watch Dawn. She doesn’t need to be around while the magic stuff is going on.”

“But I could help!” Dawn protested. “Or I could be on my own. I am fourteen.”

The Slayer didn’t look convinced. “Willow and Tara need to concentrate. And the last time you were left on your own, you got kidnapped to raise a Hellgod.”

“So not my fault,” the younger Summers pointed out. “Come on, Buffy. You can’t protect me from this stuff forever. I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll bet Spike agrees with me.”

Spike went from looking slightly bored to incredibly alarmed. “Uh, you know, I don’t really have an opinion here.”

“How novel,” Giles murmured sarcastically.

Tara, ever the peace-maker, spoke up. “Buffy, it’s really okay if Dawn stays with us. I know Xander and Anya could probably use some alone time, and it might be safer. You know, to be with the powerful witches.”

Buffy hesitated and then finally nodded. “Fine. Dawn, you can stay with Willow and Tara, but try not to get in the way.”

Dawn waited until her sister turned to leave before she stuck her tongue out at her. Spike gave her a look and then smiled at her conspiratorially. “Tell you what,” he whispered, “I’ll teach you some moves tomorrow, yeah? We’ll have our own training practice, Bit.” He swaggered out after Buffy, and Xander barely waited for the door to close, before opening his mouth.

“What is going on here?” he demanded. “Buffy is getting way too cozy with the vampire.”

“He makes her happy, Xander,” Willow said, knowing a little more about what was going on. She and Buffy’d had a long conversation just the day before. “After everything that’s happened, I can’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

Xander’s eyes widened. “Vampire! Evil undead!” he exclaimed, as though it should be self-explanatory.

“Buffy is old enough to make her own decisions regarding her relationships,” Giles said stiffly. “She will have to simply make her own mistakes and be willing to live with the consequences.”

“Like lots of sex?” Anya asked cheerfully. “You know, vampires have great stamina. He’s probably a good match for the Slayer.”

Giles and Xander both looked horrified at the images she just invoked, and Tara hastened to smooth things over. “Buffy knows what she’s doing. And Spike’s aura has changed.”

The others looked at her. “What are you saying, Tara?” Giles asked, feeling a little stupid for not asking Tara if she knew the extent of Spike’s changes. She was quite an expert, especially when it came to natural magics.

Tara looked surprised. “It’s been changing for a while now, but it took a turn after that warlock hurt him. I—I thought everybody knew, you know, that he had his soul.”

“Angel said he didn’t have a soul, though,” Willow stated. “You were—you weren’t there.” Willow was beginning to get a strange look on her face. “You had class the day that Buffy was telling us, so you wouldn’t have really known.”

Tara looked a little confused, not exactly sure what conversation they were referring to, since she wasn’t there for it. “Known?” She looked at her girlfriend. “Well, I don’t know what—Angel said, but as far as I know Spike does have a soul. He—he’s changed on a very fundamental level.”

Giles’ brows drew together as he pulled his glasses off to clean them. “Then I wonder what Angel knew that he wasn’t telling us.”

~~~~~

The attack came as a surprise, out of nowhere. They should have expected it, but both Spike and Buffy had been a little too caught up in each other to be highly aware of their surroundings. Unlike the last ambush, however, it wasn’t Buffy that the demons headed for immediately.

All three of the tall, wraith-like demons headed for Spike, ignoring the Slayer completely. They piled on the vampire, seemingly trying to rip him apart with their bare—well, hands wasn’t quite right. Bony claws with a thin sheathe of skin were all they were, but they were quite effective in tearing at his shirt, putting long, thin scratches into his skin.

“Spike!” Buffy called, throwing herself into the fight. She pulled one of the demons off of him, running a stake through where its heart should have been. “You okay?”

“Think so,” he called, trying to get far enough away from the demons so he could get some fighting room. “You seen any of these guys before?”

Buffy was still struggling with the demon she had tried to stake. It wasn’t dying, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do. “No, these are new to me.” Her demon abruptly pulled away and launched itself back at Spike. The Slayer let out a growl of frustration. “That’s it. Nobody gets to mess with my boyfriend.”

Buffy’s use of that particular term distracted Spike enough so that he was soon at the bottom of a demon pile again, letting out a howl as one of them tore through his jeans, scoring his leg. His cry had Buffy moving just a little faster. With a graceful roundhouse kick, she sent one of the demons flying. She grabbed another by the belt/sash thing that was around its chest, and hauled it off.

The third demon she grabbed by its arm in mid-swipe, just before it clawed Spike again. With a brief twist, she heard the bone break, and then she managed to break its neck. Apparently, neck-breaking worked with these things just as well as it usually did.

The other two demons were coming after her now, deciding she was the bigger threat. This was the kind of thing that Buffy loved—the fight, the adrenalin, the confidence that came from knowing she was going to win. Even when nothing else in her life was going right, she could always count on slaying to make her feel better.

Vaulting off the back of one demon, she crashed into the second, using her momentum to take it to the ground. She snapped that one’s neck as well, turning just in time to see Spike doing the same to the third. They looked at each other, and then at the demons. “Okay,” Buffy said slowly when the bodies just sat there. “You know, after the other night, I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that they’re not doing the dissolvey thing.”

“After the Miroks?” Spike asked. “Definitely relieved. Better get them out from the open though.”

Buffy looked around the park where they’d been attacked and nodded. “You’re probably right. Let’s get this done. I really didn’t want to spend my whole night out here.”

“You got plans, luv?” Spike asked, grabbing one of the demons by its bony arm.

She gave him a coy look. “Well, there’s this guy. I thought I might ask him to hang out with me tonight. Especially since my little sister is spending the night with my friends.”

“You know where this is going don’t you?” Spike asked, correctly guessing that he was the guy in question.

Buffy smiled. “I had a few ideas.” They dragged the bodies to a more wooded area, hiding them as best as they could under some brush. “You still thinking I’m the target?” she asked when they’d finished. “Because it definitely looked like they wanted you.”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, seems that way, doesn’t it?” He shook his head. “Don’t have any idea what they were. Hopefully, your Watcher’ll have more information. We can figure out what the bloody hell is going on. I’d like a have a nice, quiet evening.”

“In your dreams,” Buffy replied.

He leered at her a bit. “Well, ‘d like to be makin’ my own noise at least.” Spike stared at her. “Buffy? What—” He tried to duck as her fist came out of nowhere to hit him in the nose. Her eyes were glowing red. “Buffy! Wait!” He tried to protect himself from the blows in vain, knowing there wasn’t anything he could do to stop her.

He just had to hope that whatever was possessing her wouldn’t force her to stake him before he had a chance to get away.

Chapter 6: The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test

Buffy stared at Spike. One minute he’d been teasing her about the possible activities for later in the evening, and the next he’d been cowering on the ground, pleading with her to stop. The problem was that she wasn’t even touching him. “Spike? Spike, it’s okay. See, I’m not touching you.”

Something seemed to snap, and he scrambled to his feet and started to run. She hesitated for only a moment before giving chase, easily catching up to him and tackling him to the ground. Buffy pinned him, holding the squirming vampire as tightly as possible. “Spike! Spike, snap out of it!”

He was muttering incoherently, telling her to stop, that she was possessed. If anything, he was the one possessed, but he didn’t seem to be coming out of it. Buffy didn’t dare shift her position to try and comfort him. As crazy as he was acting, she didn’t want to risk him running. Who knew if he would know enough to get out from the sun, or to make it back to his house? She sat on his chest, trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do when he seemed to finally focus on her face. “Slayer?” he whispered.

“Spike,” she said, relieved. “Are you okay?”

He was staring at her. “You—I thought you were going to stake me.”

“No,” she said carefully. “We were moving demon bodies and making plans for later tonight, and then you started—” Buffy stopped. “Cowering” was probably not the word she wanted to use. “Acting crazy,” she finished.

She could see him swallow. “Your eyes were red. You were going to kill me.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I think something really strange is going on here. I’m going to let you up, and then I want you to come back to the house with me. You promise you’re okay for that?”

He nodded, and she slowly let him up. Spike rose, and Buffy could tell he was still regarding her warily, as if she might attack any minute. “I’m not going to hurt you, Spike,” she said, a little frustrated. “Come on.” She grabbed his arm, firmly but gently, and pulled him along towards her house. “We’ll get back and I’ll give Giles a call. Maybe those demons did something to you. I got infected with demon blood that one time, and I could hear everybody’s thoughts.”

Spike didn’t reply. He looked tense, and Buffy said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“Keep seein’ things, like out of the corner of my eye. We’re bein’ followed.”

Buffy looked around. The night was remarkably quiet, and she was certain that they were the only ones out and about for a couple blocks at least. “I think we’re alone, Spike.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “They’re followin’ us. They’re always there.”

“Who’s always there?” Buffy asked, deciding to humor the crazy vampire.

“They are,” he said, not really explaining. “They’re waitin’ for me to mess up. So they can hurt me. I need to be punished. I’m a bad man.”

Buffy was beginning to get scared. For a minute there, Spike had been lucid, but he was rapidly slipping away from her. “Not really,” Buffy said, striving for levity. “You haven’t been bad for a while now, Spike.”

He shook his head. “I’m wrong, all wrong. They’ll punish me now.”

“No one’s going to touch you,” Buffy replied as he tried to pull away from her. “Look at me.” She waited for him to meet her eyes. “We’re going to go back to my place, and then we’re going to figure this out. Just hang in there.”

Spike nodded. Buffy just hoped that her determination to get him through this in one piece was enough.

~~~~~

Giles came immediately when she called him, bringing a stack of books and his worried face. “I think I’ve narrowed down what kind of demon attacked you. Your description of the demons and Spike’s symptoms helped.” He looked around the living room. “Where is Spike?”

“Downstairs, in the basement,” Buffy explained. “He started to vamp out when we got back to the house. I think he was barely keeping himself from attacking me, so I chained him up.”

“Probably a wise idea,” Giles agreed. “A vampire’s hallucinations could be quite dangerous, both to those around him and to himself.” The Watcher had no idea why he was concerned about Spike, but he was. He told himself it was only out of sympathy for Buffy and Dawn, both of whom would be quite distressed should anything happen to the vampire. “Where is Dawn?”

Buffy picked up one of the books, flipping through it quickly. “Still with Willow and Tara. She had planned on spending the night anyway, but I told them to go ahead and keep her over there since Tara doesn’t have to work. She said she’d make sure Dawn was okay and call sometime tomorrow.”

“We will figure this out,” Giles said comfortingly.

Buffy shook her head. “Look, Giles, I know you guys aren’t terribly thrilled that I’m spending so much time with Spike, but I really appreciate your help.”

“I worry about you, Buffy,” her Watcher admitted. “I hardly think that getting involved with another vampire is a good idea.”

Buffy sighed. “I tried being with a normal guy, and look how well that turned out.” She stared at the pages of the book in front of her without really seeing anything. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m not normal, Giles. I won’t ever be normal. Just the way my life is right now makes it highly unlikely that I would find somebody who is willing to deal with my issues. And that’s without the slaying. Spike—Spike is different.”

Giles was silent, unsure of what to say, and Buffy continued. “I don’t know how much longer I have. I really believe that if Glory—actually, Ben—hadn’t been hit by that car, I wouldn’t have survived that one. I got lucky, and I don’t know how long my luck will last.”

“And you think Spike will make a difference?” he asked softly.

“No,” Buffy replied. “I think Spike will stick around.” There was suddenly a sound from the basement that sounded like a wounded animal. “I should check on him. I’ll be right back.”

Buffy ran downstairs into the basement, not wanting to wait for Giles’ reaction. It was true enough, though. Her shelf-life had long been up; she’d already died once. And seeing Spike like this, now, was enough to tell her that her feelings for him ran a lot deeper than she’d thought.

Spike was straining against the chains she’d put on him, growling, almost completely feral. He was still fangy, and it didn’t look like he was going to calm down anytime soon. “Spike?”

The way he growled and tried to leap at her reminded her a little of Angel, after he’d come back from that hell dimension. Buffy wondered what he was seeing, what was causing him to go crazy. She took a step closer, trusting that he wouldn’t hurt her. “Spike. William. It’s me.”

The vampire became still, cocking his head to one side, his eyes glowing green/gold. She took another step forward, this time bringing herself close enough to touch him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s sit down.” He was still watching her, his eyes glowing in the dim light from the overhead bulb. “Spike, sit.” Obediently, he did so, still not speaking, simply looking at her with those yellow eyes of his. To be honest, it was beginning to freak her out.

“Do you think you could sleep?” she asked, not expecting a response, and so not surprised when she didn’t get one. “Come on. Lay down.” She coaxed him into a prone position, so that he lay with his head on pillowed on her leg. As soon as his cheek hit the denim of her jeans, the demon’s visage melted away. “That’s right,” she murmured. “Tell me what you see.”

She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t say anything at all.

~~~~~

They were dead. Some part of Spike’s brain still knew that, but it couldn’t explain why they were standing right there, real enough to touch. He had killed them, hunted each one of them down and shoved a railroad spike through their heads. The Watchers said he got his name from torturing his victims, but that wasn’t true at all. It had been reasonably quick, really, much quicker than the hell they’d put him through for years.

He could barely remember their names, but their faces were burned on his memory. They taunted him now, snatching away his journal and reading his poetry aloud, snickering, making fun where he could hear. Tormenting him. He’d brought forth the demon, thinking to teach them a lesson, to repeat the past, but he found himself restrained.

And then they had turned into demons themselves, like the monsters he’d been sure were under his bed when he was six. He’d always been afraid of the monsters—until he was one. They had come to kill him, to rip him to shreds. Their eyes glowed green, and their claws dripped poison, and he couldn’t get away—

And she came. Glowing. Brightly effulgent. And with her every step the monsters drifted away like wisps of smoke. She spoke softly and touched his face—his demon’s face—without fear, and he loved her. No, that wasn’t right. He’d been in love with her for a long time now. She was his bright goddess, and he would lay down his life for her in one shining moment of sacrifice.

He had to tell her. But that poem had been written for another. It was improper to offer it up to another lady. William would never—but he wasn’t William. He was—he couldn’t quite remember who he was. But he suddenly remembered what he was.

He was hers—whether she wanted him or not.

~~~~~

Buffy could feel Spike relax under her fingers, as she murmured nonsense words of comfort. This she could do. She liked being the strong one, the one in control, and Spike allowed her that. It was strange, because as arrogant and cocky as he could be, he knew when to let her lead, when to allow her to own her own strength. And then he was simply there when she needed to borrow his in return.

Spike wasn’t like Riley in that way, though they weren’t really alike in any way. Riley hadn’t fallen in love with her strength, with her Slayerness, as Spike had. Riley fell in love with a small, blonde girl, who then surprised him with her ability to not need him. She had loved him, in her own way, but Riley had equated love with need, and Buffy wasn’t built that way.

Spike equated love with passion, with an understanding of the other person that went so deep, it was beyond words. For Spike, love was sacrifice, an eternal giving, an all-consuming fire.

It was high time she stoked the blaze.

Buffy had no idea how long they were down there, but Giles hadn’t come to get her, so she supposed it wasn’t long enough to worry him. She thought Spike had fallen asleep; he was motionless, his eyes closed, head still pillowed on her thigh. There was a whisper of sound from the vampire. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

Blue eyes blinked open slowly. “It’s not right to give one girl’s poem to another.”

Buffy wasn’t sure what he was talking about, so she decided to agree. “No, I guess it wouldn’t be. Why?”

“I wanted to give you a poem, but I haven’t written any for a long time,” he replied. “William used to write poetry, but he died.”

Buffy had a hard time preventing her jaw from dropping. From what Spike had told her about his past, and about his mother, it was obvious that he wasn’t any kind of bad-ass. But a poet? That was something else altogether, and Spike hadn’t let anything like that slip. “Was he any good?”

“Bloody awful,” Spike confessed, on behalf of his dead self. “That’s when they started calling him William the Bloody. Then he died, and he really was.” He tried to reach up and touch her hair, but the chains wouldn’t let him reach that far. “’s like sunshine,” he whispered sadly. “I can’t touch it.”

“Just as soon as we figure out what happened, and you’re safe, you can,” she assured him. “Are you going to be okay by yourself for a while? I need to go talk to Giles.”

He shuddered slightly. “You chased the monsters away.”

Buffy tried not to laugh. “You’re a monster yourself. I’d think you’d be able to chase them away on your own.”

“They’re not scared of me.”

“Oh.” Buffy tried another tack. “Well, this is my house, and monsters aren’t allowed in here at all. Except for you. So if they come back, you just let me know, okay?”

He nodded. Buffy slid out from under him and went to find a pillow and a blanket from the boxes that were laying around. She tucked him in as best she could while he was on the hard basement floor. “Shall I write you a poem?” he asked, as she walked up the stairs.

The Slayer hid a smile. If they fixed this after Spike wrote a poem for her, he was probably going to be pissed off. On the other hand, she would love to see what he’d write for her. “Yes, please.”

Buffy found Giles still going through books. “Hey. Found anything yet?”

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I think I have. Is this what attacked you?”

She looked at the picture. “Those are the guys all right. Do you know what they did to Spike?”

“I’m afraid that the Effrendiks have a natural substance they secrete from their claws,” her Watcher explained. “Vampires are allergic.”

Buffy stared at him. “Spike was allergic to the demons, and that’s why he’s going nuts on me?”

Clearing his throat, Giles nodded. “Basically, yes. The good news is that there is a cure. The bad news is that the cure happens to be time. Judging from what you told me about his injuries, I imagine the toxins will take at least a couple days to disperse. Until then, well…”

Buffy sighed. “Great. I guess I’ll be vamp-sitting then.”

“If you need help, I would be happy to offer my services,” Giles said. Then amending his statement, added, “Well, ‘happy’ might be too strong a word.”

“Thanks, Giles,” Buffy replied. “I don’t have to work tomorrow, thankfully, so I think I’ll be okay. If it lasts too much longer than that, we’ll have to work something out. So far, he’s been a little calmer with me around, so I should probably stick close.”

Giles put a hand on her shoulder, startling her. They rarely touched, even though the mutual affection—and love—between them ran deep. “Buffy, I won’t tell you that I approve of you embarking on another relationship with a vampire, but I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re quite right. A traditional relationship is hardly an option for you. And as far as vampires go, Spike isn’t so bad. He’s not what I would want for you, but I can live with him.”

Buffy smiled. “Thanks, Giles. Xander’s going to be enough of a problem as it is. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you attacking me too.”

“I wouldn’t attack you, Buffy,” Giles replied, sounding almost offended. “I might voice a protest. Loudly.” He smiled. “I want you to be happy, and if Spike can do that for you, then I will try not to stake him.”

~~~~~

Spike was talking to thin air when she went back down to the basement. Even when she tried to get his attention, he ignored her, preferring his invisible companion. Or maybe he was talking to himself. In any case, at least he was reasonably quiet, talking about hall passes and stamps and the possibility of getting caned. Buffy sighed. She wanted to go upstairs to her own bed, but she didn’t want to leave Spike alone.

She drew closer, and when he still didn’t acknowledge her presence, she captured his face between her hands. “Spike.” Waiting patiently for him to focus, she finally asked, “Do you think you’d be okay to sleep in a bed? I’ll be there the whole time, but I’d need you to just lie quietly. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do anything for you,” he replied fervently. Again, he tried to touch her hair, and this time she was close enough so that the chains didn’t interfere. “I’d walk in the sun for you.”

She smiled. “I know you would, Spike. But I would really rather you not, if that’s okay.” Buffy pulled the key out of her pocket and unlocked the manacles around his wrists, wincing as she realized he’d already torn the tender skin. “Damn. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Turn about’s fair play, I guess.”

Spike followed her upstairs obediently, almost docile. After Giles had left, Buffy had taken a look at the relevant passages dealing with Spike’s allergic reaction. Apparently, the whatever-it-was on the Eff—well, effing demons, as far as Buffy was concerned—caused hallucinations, not unlike those experienced by humans on a really bad acid trip.

Visions, flash backs, smelling colors, the whole nine yards; Spike would be facing all of that over the next 48 to 72 hours. Buffy couldn’t help but wonder what her reaction would have been if this hadn’t been just an allergic reaction. What would she do if Spike was seriously impaired? She knew from experience how hard it was to cause permanent damage to a vampire. She also knew that it could be done. What would she do if something really bad happened to him? Something permanent?

It was as she had suspected. She would be lost without him.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get something to clean up those scratches?” Buffy steered him over to the bed and got him settled down. “Just sit tight.”

She went to the bathroom and rummaged around for first aid supplies. Buffy huffed. She really should take out stock in bandages and other first aid accoutrements. As much as she and her friends used, she’d be a rich woman by now.

There was a commotion from her room, and Buffy hurriedly gathered her stuff. Spike was crouched in the corner, holding his head with both hands, rocking back and forth. Startled, Buffy realized that she’d seen him in this position before, after she’d pulled him off the wall of his crypt. He had been trying not to go crazy then, too, she supposed, but she’d had less sympathy for him at the time.

Strange how quickly things could change.

Buffy took her supplies to Spike. “Hey. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Spike didn’t show any signs of responding, just kept rocking. “Spike, I need you to keep talking to me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Please?”

“They’re coming for me,” he whispered.

“Who’s coming for you, Spike?” He shook his head. “Who’s coming?” she repeated.

He rocked harder. “The prefects. I don’t have a pass. They’re going to hurt me. They always hurt me.”

They were apparently into the flashback part of the evening, Buffy thought. “Spike, it isn’t real. You’re having a reaction to some of the demon venom. I’m right here.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere.” Buffy wanted to add “ever” to the end of that sentence, but she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Besides, Spike was in no position to enjoy a declaration of abiding affection (love).

Because she didn’t yet have the words to say it, Buffy used actions, as she always had. She stayed with the vampire all night, leaving his side only once, when he had fallen into a restless sleep, in order to get him some blood. She coaxed him into drinking the mug down, relieved when he managed it. She stayed with him, just sitting close, while he spoke in riddles, talking about punishments and failures.

Buffy held him as he wept uncontrollably, mumbling about a girl named Cecily. Unwilling to put the chains back on, she held him down when he raged in full-on blood lust, held him even when it seemed he had no qualms about draining her dry. He had finally fallen back asleep when the phone rang, shortly before noon.

“Hello?” she said, knowing she sounded like she’d had a rough night. Big surprise under the circumstances.

“Buffy? It’s Tara,” the other woman replied. “How’s Spike?”

She sighed. “Still pretty bad. Giles warned me it would take a couple days to get it out of his system, and apparently, he could still have flashbacks after that. Is Dawn doing okay?”

“Dawn’s fine,” Tara assured her. “Actually, Willow decided to take the day off, so she’s going to take Dawn out with her, kind of as a distraction. She wants to see Spike, but from what you said yesterday, that wouldn’t be such a good idea.”

Buffy chuckled humorlessly. “Definitely not a good idea. And probably not for the next day or so. I need to go back to work tomorrow though, and I don’t know who else could sit with him. I hate to put the restraints back on, but no one else is actually strong enough to handle him.”

“I might have something that would help,” Tara offered hesitantly. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but there’s a tea I know of—it’s calming. And herbs that if he breathed in—he’s a vampire, so I don’t know if it would work for sure, but—”

“It’s definitely worth a try,” Buffy agreed. “Do you—would you want to come over? I could come and get them, but—”

“You don’t want to leave him,” Tara said, sounding perfectly understanding. “No, that’s fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can get the ingredients together.”

Buffy didn’t have a long wait. Tara was as good as her word, and was there within the hour. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this last night,” she said ruefully, as she fixed the tea on the stovetop while Buffy watched. Spike was still sleeping upstairs, the vampire sleep cycle finally kicking in.

“It’s okay,” Buffy assured her. “It was late, and I know I wasn’t at my best.” She paused. “Look, Tara, thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

The other girl smiled at her. “I don’t mind, Buffy, really. I actually kind of like Spike. He’s nice—in a weird kind of way.”

“Yeah, I guess he is.”

Tara hesitated, then said, “I know it’s probably not my business, but do you—like him?”

“Like him?” Buffy asked. “Yeah, definitely. Do I love him? I don’t know yet. But seeing him hurt like this, half out of his mind—suddenly I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Tara nodded. “I felt the same way about Willow,” she confided. “When Oz came back, and I thought she w-was going to be with him again. I didn’t know how I could be without her. Willow—Willow makes me stronger.”

Buffy nodded slowly. “I can see what you’re saying.” She heard a rustling from upstairs, and she was halfway back to her bedroom before she realized she’d moved at all. “Spike?”

“Buffy?” It had been hours since he’d even known who she was, and the Slayer couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

“I’m right here,” she assured him, coming closer to the corner where he was still crouched. “How are you feeling?”

He shook his head. “Not good. I think I’m seein’ things. Dru was here a minute ago, but then she left. An’ I think Angelus was here too. We were—we ate somebody. And now—” he held up a hand, looking slightly bewildered. “I think ‘m smellin’ colors, but that’s not quite right.”

“You had an allergic reaction,” she said, trying to be as comforting as possible, amused by his puzzled look. “It’s okay. It’ll pass after a couple days, and Tara has some tea she thinks might calm you down a little.”

“I feel pretty calm right now,” he protested.

Buffy smiled. “I know, but after seeing you vamp out a couple times, I’m thinking calm is a good thing.”

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” Spike asked, horrified.

She raised an eyebrow. “Hello? Slayer here. I think I can take care of myself.” Buffy turned to look at Tara, who was coming into the room with a cup of tea in her hand.

“Hey, Spike,” she said, greeting him gently. “How are you feeling?”

“People keep askin’ me that,” he said. “Feel a bit off.”

Tara came to kneel next to him and Buffy, handing him the cup of tea. “Drink this. It should help you feel better.”

Spike’s eyes bored into the young witch. “Alright,” he finally acquiesced, almost abruptly. He drank it down quickly, and it wasn’t but a few minutes later that his eyes began to droop. “That was okay,” he mumbled, starting to slur his words.

Buffy looked over at Tara with a raised eyebrow. “That was quick.”

“I made it pretty strong,” she replied, almost apologetically.

She nodded. “Probably best for him to be out. He’s been pretty wiggy all night.” Reaching down, she hauled Spike to his feet and helped him over to the bed, ignoring his mumbled protests about not kicking her out of her own room. “I’ll deal,” she said fondly. “But you need to sleep, and the window up here is already covered.”

Buffy used the opportunity to finally bandage his wrists and clean him up a little bit, tugging off his boots and tucking him in properly. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, and then left the room to join Tara in the kitchen. The Wicca was busy filling Joyce’s sun tea jar with the potion off the stove.

“There should be enough here for the next couple days,” Tara explained. “I’d give him a cup every few hours, or any time he seems to be getting a little agitated.”

“Will it knock him out every time?” Buffy asked.

The other girl shook her head. “I don’t think so. But he was pretty tired, so I think it just helped him to fall asleep.” Tara paused. “Buffy—we were talking yesterday, right after you guys left for patrol. You know that Spike has a soul, right?”

Buffy shook her head. “Angel said he didn’t. I mean, we know he was cursed with something, but—”

Tara shook her head. “No, it was definitely a soul of some kind. His aura is completely different. I don’t know what A-Angel told you, or why he said what he did, but Spike has changed on a fundamental level. He’s not the same person. Or-or he is, but just not really.”

Buffy looked down at the kitchen counter. “I’m not sure it matters,” she said softly. “I mean, if he’s got a soul, great. And you’re right, he’s definitely changed, it’s just—Spike changed. To say he has a soul now—it just seems like semantics, you know?”

“You mean it doesn’t matter why he changed, just that he did?” Tara asked gently.

Buffy nodded, and cast her eyes in the direction of the stairs. “Something like that.” She laughed. “With Angel, the soul was all-important. But with Spike—” She smiled slightly, a softness in her eyes. “With Spike, I just need him to be here.”

Chapter 7: Angels and Demons

Spike woke slowly, in unfamiliar surroundings. Not the crypt, not his new house—the light was all wrong for both. And the bed—he could smell Buffy, right next to him. “Buffy?”

“Right here,” she assured him. “I’m going to have to leave pretty quickly though. You going to be okay with Tara and Giles here?”

He nodded slowly, focusing on the Slayer with difficulty. “What—where am I, luv?”

“My bed,” Buffy said quietly. “You’ve been pretty much out of it for the last 12 hours. We’ve been waking you up to drink your tea, but that’s about it. You want some blood? I can get it for you before I have to leave.”

Spike shook his head. “You—you don’t have to do that,” he protested. “I can—” He tried to push himself up.

Buffy pushed him back down on the bed gently. “You can stay put,” she admonished him. “I’m going to get you some blood, and then you’re going to drink more of that tea. I think it’ll be better for everyone concerned if you’re mostly out of it.”

Spike shook his head, remembering flashes. “I tried to hurt you. Maybe you should put the chains back on, luv.”

“Giles has the tranq gun if you get out of hand,” she assured him. “And Tara’s concoction seems to be working pretty well for right now. Just rest. I’ll be right back.”

Spike let himself collapse back onto the soft mattress, unsure of how to take this new Buffy. He didn’t think she’d ever been this tender with him before. She had been getting steadily nicer, but this was a whole new level. Being in her bed, her sitting with him all night—Spike started. Suddenly Drusilla was standing before him, pulling her dress aside, showing him bare breasts and the stake wound he had made.

“You’re not real,” he muttered. “You’re not real.”

“Real enough, my Spike,” she replied, throwing herself at him. Spike scrambled out of the bed, stumbling towards the door, and nearly running into Buffy.

She had a mug full of blood in one hand and a glass full of tea in the other. Only her Slayer reflexes kept her from dumping both all over Spike. “Hey! What’s wrong?”

“’s Dru,” he gasped, looking back, but Drusilla had disappeared. He started shaking his head. “No, no. Buffy, I can’t do this. ‘m not—”

Buffy scooted past him and set her offerings on the bedside table. “You’re doing fine, Spike. Really, you’re going to be okay. Another 24 hours or so, and it should be out of your system. I just need you to hang in there for me.”

“I can’t, Buffy. I can’t do this—”

“Yes, you can, Spike,” Buffy said, almost harshly. “I need you, and I am not losing you. Do you understand me?” When he finally nodded, Buffy handed him the blood. “Drink.” She watched until he finished, and then handed him the glass of tea. Spike didn’t fight her at all this time, swallowing convulsively without stopping until he’d drained it.

Buffy sat with him for a few minutes, knowing she needed to leave for work if she didn’t want to be late. “Better?”

The vampire nodded. “’s still there, but—‘s not as important.”

“Good.” Buffy turned as she heard a noise behind her, and Tara appeared in the doorway. “You ready?”

Tara nodded. “Mr. Giles is downstairs. He’s got the tranq gun, so we should be okay.”

“You hear that, Spike?” Buffy asked. “You’ve got a couple of vamp-sitters today, so you should feel special.”

“Where’s the Niblet?” he asked. “She’s not here, is she? She’s alright?”

“Dawn’s fine,” Buffy soothed. She cast an agonized look at the clock. “Spike, I have to go. Tara will stay with you, okay?” She kissed him quickly on the lips and waved to Tara as she dashed out the door.

The look on Spike’s face was so lost as Buffy left that Tara really felt for him. “Hey, she’ll be back, you know?”

The vampire looked over at her, and then down at his hands. “I don’t want—I don’t want to be by myself,” he whispered, looking ashamed for his weakness.

“Okay,” Tara replied, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He was so far from the “Big Bad” she’d first met that it was hard to believe he was the same person. “Do you want to go downstairs and watch a movie with me? That might take your mind off things.”

When he nodded, Tara stood, waiting until he followed her out the bedroom door and down the stairs. “Is everything all right?” Giles asked, looking up from the heavy volumes he was perusing.

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “I just thought it might help Spike to have something to take his mind off of things. We’re going to watch a movie.”

Giles lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He watched as Tara got the vampire settled on the couch. The curtains were still closed, and the little indirect light that filtered through offered no threat to Spike. He curled up on the opposite end of the couch from Tara, and was watching rather avidly as images from The Matrix flitted across the screen. Giles found himself intrigued with the movie in spite of himself, moving his research out into the living room where he could see the TV better.

Spike fell asleep again about halfway through, and Giles glanced over to see Tara looking at him fondly. “You really do like him, don’t you?” he asked, curious. As shy as Tara was, it was difficult to understand why she would be drawn to Spike, of all people.

Tara shrugged. “Yeah, I do.” She studied the sleeping vampire’s features in silence for a moment. “There’s more there than you might think,” she explained, finally.

“I suppose there is,” Giles agreed. “Tell me, what do you see when you look at him?”

Tara hesitated, and then said, “I see a man with a demon.”

Giles nodded slowly, understanding the distinction she had made. “For Buffy’s sake, I hope you’re right.”

~~~~~

Spike was happily ensconced in the Slayer’s bed, surrounded by her scent, when she came to check on him. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he replied, sitting up. “Visions aren’t as bad, but that stuff Tara’s been givin’ me is still cloudin’ my brain.”

Buffy smiled at him. “I think I have a way to unfog you.” She crawled onto the bed next to him, placing a light kiss on his lips. “Better?”

“Hard to say,” Spike replied. “Might want to try again.”

With a smile, she obliged, lengthening and deepening the kiss this time, until his hands were wandering under her shirt. Buffy was doing some exploring of her own, her hands moving under the waistband of his jeans, teasing sensitive skin with her warmth.

In fact, things were just getting really good when he heard someone calling to him. “Spike? Spike? Spike!”

He sat up, startled. Tara sat next to him on the couch, looking at him with a funny expression on her face. “Are you okay?”

Spike was not okay. He had just been woken up from one of the best dreams he’d ever had, right in the middle of the best part. Plus, his jeans were extremely uncomfortable.

Of course, it wasn’t like he was going to tell the witch anything like that. “’m fine.”

At the shortness of his tone, Tara frowned. “Okay. It’s just you were moaning a little, and—” She broke off abruptly, recognizing the look on his face for what it was. “Oh. Good dream, huh?”

He sighed, and then smiled a little, sheepishly. “Yeah. Wasn’t a bad one.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted you then,” Tara said, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Must have been really good for you to be making that much noise.”

“I was making a lot of noise?” Spike asked, mortified. Then, realizing she was teasing him, he glared at her. “Not funny. Don’t scare a bloke like that.”

They both looked up as the phone rang and Giles picked it up in the kitchen. “Hello?” There was a pause. “No, I’m sorry she’s not right now…I see…I could give you her number at work if it’s an emergency.” The Watcher read off the numbers and then hung up the phone. “Tara?”

He stopped when he saw that Spike was awake. “Oh, good. You’re up. How are you feeling?”

As Giles actually sounded concerned about his well-being, Spike dispensed with the smart ass comment he was inclined to make. “Bit better.”

The other man nodded. “Good. That was Angel. Apparently, something has come up and he wanted to talk to Buffy about it.”

Tara looked concerned. “No one’s hurt, are they?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Giles replied. “He simply said he had some information, and that he wanted to talk to Buffy as soon as possible.”

Spike frowned. “An’ you gave Peaches her work number?” he asked. “Not sure that was a good idea. Dawn said they get pretty snotty with her when she calls, an’ she’s family.”

Giles sighed. “Well, it’s too late now. And Angel did say it was important.”

~~~~~

“Hey, Summers! You’ve got a phone call.”

Buffy sighed. She’d told Dawn not to call her at work unless the world was ending (literally), and she probably should have passed the message along to the rest of the gang. Marg, her boss, got a little angry when her employees got personal calls. “Make it quick,” Marg warned her as she picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Buffy?”

She recognized Angel’s voice right way, and she bit back an angry sigh. She so did not need this right now, considering that he had lied about Spike. Or, at least he’d made a judgment call about Spike that he had no business making. “Angel, we’re not supposed to get personal calls at work,” she whispered, looking around, trying to make sure no one was listening in. She would hate for it to get around that it was her boyfriend calling. Especially when he wasn’t even her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I called your house and Giles gave me this number.” Buffy bit back a curse. She was really going to have to talk with her Watcher. “I need to speak with you. It’s about Spike.”

“Fine, Angel, but can you hold on at least until I get home? I’m getting death glares.” Buffy looked over at Marg, who looked pointedly at her watch. The Slayer hated to think of what would happen to her job the first time she came across a Slaying-related emergency.

There was a pause. “Can I come up?” he asked. “I don’t think this is really something we should talk about over the phone.” There was another pause. “And I’d like to talk to Spike.”

Buffy didn’t have the time to argue with him. If she didn’t cut this call short, Marg would probably start cutting her hours, and she couldn’t afford for that to happen. “I’m off at eight. You can call then. Or whatever. But if you decide to show up at my front door, I’ll expect you to behave yourself, Angel. Okay? Okay. Gotta go, bye.”

Buffy hung up on him without waiting for any kind of acknowledgement, quickly getting back to work. Even as she took people’s orders and brought drinks, however, her mind was on what news Angel could possibly have about Spike. And what he would say when he realized that she and Spike weren’t just friends, but actually dating.

Well, Buffy thought they were dating. The boyfriend comment had just slipped out during the fight with the clawed demons that had made Spike go crazy for a while. Seeing him like that, comforting him during the worst of the madness, had solidified her feelings for him. She was definitely falling in love with him.

Of course, now that she knew that, she had to figure out a way to tell him. Maybe they could go out on an actual date when he was feeling better. Something that wasn’t killing demons. She refilled water glasses as she thought about what a perfect date might be for Spike. He’d given her exactly what she’d needed with the night out at the Bronze. She should do the same for him—figure out what his perfect date would be, and then pull it off.

Thinking about it, Buffy had a pretty good idea of what Spike’s perfect night out would include, and it probably wouldn’t be going “out” at all. The thought brought a flush to her cheeks, giving her a bit of a glow. “You look happy today, dear,” one of her regulars told her. “New man?”

She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her features. “New relationship, old friend,” she explained.

“Well, they make the best partners, you know,” Mrs. Nowen told her. “I knew my husband for years before we got married, and we’re still best friends.”

“That’s wonderful,” Buffy said sincerely. The rest of her shift went better than she might have expected, as distracted as she was. All the orders were right, no one got upset with her, and the tips were better than they’d ever been.

Once she got off, she pocketed her money, heading home quickly. Buffy realized that Angel would probably drive to Sunnydale, since he’d mentioned it, and she hadn’t vetoed the plan. It probably wasn’t the best of ideas to let Angel near Spike, not when he was still struggling with the hallucinations. If it was about him, and it shed some light on their current situation, it was probably better to just get it over with, however.

Buffy came up the front walk at the same time as Willow and Dawn. “Hey,” she greeted them. “How was the day out?”

“How is he?” Dawn asked, not even bothering with the pleasantries.

Buffy gave her a look. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“Come on, Buffy,” Dawn said, sounding just a little pissy. “I haven’t seen him for, like, days. And he’s been sick!”

Buffy sighed. “He’s been really sick, and trust me, you wouldn’t have wanted to see it. But he’s doing better now, and yes, you can see him. He’s still here.”

Dawn gave her sister a quick hug to make up for her lack of greeting and dashed into the house. Buffy and Willow shared a look. “Are you sure Dawnie doesn’t still have a crush on Spike?”

The Slayer rolled her eyes. “No, I think there are definite ‘favorite older brother’ vibes there. Dawn knows I’ve staked my claim.”

“So you have made progress,” Willow said, grinning. “Share!”

“Nothing to share,” Buffy replied. “I just came to the realization that I would be completely miserable without him.” She shuddered. “Willow, if you could have just seen him—Spike was completely off his rocker. Crying, screaming, the whole works, and all I could do was hold him. Even during that whole time, I knew he loved me.”

Willow gave her a sympathetic look. “Have you talked to Giles about it, yet?”

“Yeah, and he’s pretty much okay with it. He gave me the ‘I don’t like it, but if Spike makes you happy, I won’t kill him’ speech. Now the only person I have to worry about is Xander.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “But I swear, if I hear ‘evil undead’ or ‘Angel’ come out of his mouth, I will so kick his ass.”

Willow nodded. “Xander can be a pain. Anya’s completely on board though, so she can try and keep him curbed.”

“I never thought I’d say this,” Buffy admitted, “but I’m so glad Xander’s with her. She’s one of the few people I know who doesn’t care a bit that Spike’s a vampire.”

“Well, she is a lot older than he is,” Willow pointed out. “She’s probably seen things—er, people, who are a lot scarier.”

Buffy grinned. “Yeah, but don’t tell Spike that.” The smile faded. “Speaking of scary, I think Angel’s on his way. Apparently, he has some information about Spike that he didn’t want to give me over the phone. I may need help keeping the two of them away from each other. Spike’s still a little unstable, and who knows what his reaction will be if Angel just shows up.”

They both stopped, picturing it for a moment. “That could be interesting,” Willow admitted. She followed Buffy inside, smiling at Tara and going over to give her a kiss. “Hey. Good day?”

Tara smiled. “Good day.” She looked over at Buffy. “Spike’s upstairs. Dawn just went up to check on him.”

“How’s he been?” Buffy asked.

“Good, mostly. I thought he was having an episode earlier, but it was just a dream.” Tara smiled, more than a little amused. “I think I woke him up in a good part.”

Buffy blinked as she realized what the other girl was probably referring to. “Oh.” A knowing little smile appeared on her face. “Cool.”

Tara and Willow exchanged looks, and Willow grinned. “Maybe you should go say hello,” she suggested. “Show him what he was missing out on today.”

Buffy wanted to, but she shook her head. “No, I can’t. Ugh. Angel’s probably going to be here any minute, and I should really talk to Giles.”

“Talk to me about what?” Giles asked, emerging from the dining room. “Is this about Angel’s call earlier today?”

Buffy nodded. “He said he was coming up. And Giles? Would you please not give out my work number? My boss gets really pissy when we take personal calls. Unless it’s the end of the world, it would be better to wait until I get home.”

Giles winced. “Forgive me, Buffy. I had no intention of getting you into trouble.”

“I know. It’s fine.” She looked up the stairs. “Would you keep an eye out for Angel? I want to go check on Spike.”

“Of course,” Giles replied.

Buffy didn’t even stick around to hear it. She hurried up the stairs towards her bedroom to find Dawn standing in the doorway, looking at Spike, who lay sleeping on the bed. “Is he really okay?” her sister whispered. “I mean, he’s not even moving.”

“’m fine, Bit,” Spike replied, cracking one eye open to look at her. “Just waitin’ to see how long it would take before you said somethin’.”

Dawn made a face. “Spike!”

“Sorry,” he said, not really sounding as though he meant it. Spike sat up slowly in bed, looking past Dawn to Buffy, who had a knowing smile on her face. “How was work, pet?”

“Good,” she replied. “Other than the phone call from Angel, it went fine. Plus, good tips.” She raised an eyebrow. “I hear you had a nice dream today.”

Both of them ignored the bewildered look on Dawn’s face. Spike looked both angry and embarrassed. “I was hopin’ Glinda wouldn’t tell you.”

“What, like I was going to be upset about it?” Buffy asked. She grinned at him. “It just gives you something to look forward to after all this clears up. See how much better the reality is.”

Spike gave her a hopeful look. “Yeah? You’re not just pullin’ my chain, are you, luv?”

“No chain pulling,” she assured him. Buffy gave him a once-over. He was looking rather rumpled, and he was still in the same clothing he’d been in the previous night, ripped and bloody as it was. “Why don’t you take a shower and get cleaned up?” she suggested.

“Don’t have any clothes here, pet,” Spike said regretfully. “I should probably get back to my place anyway.”

Dawn smiled at him triumphantly. “Nope. Willow and I stopped by your house on the way here. She wanted to finish putting the wards up, and Tara called and said you might be needing some clean stuff.” She held up a sack.

“And you’re not going anywhere,” Buffy finished. “You might be feeling better, but that just means the worst of it is over. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know that poison is out of your system.”

Spike looked from one Summers to the other, finally sighing in defeat. “Right then. I can see I’m not goin’ to win this argument.” He pushed himself off the bed, standing with some difficulty. He was still feeling a little weak, and he wasn’t sure if it was a result of the allergic reaction or something else.

“Come on,” Buffy ordered. “I’ll get you a towel, and you can get cleaned up.” She followed him into the bathroom, ostensibly to show him how to work the taps. “Spike,” she said in a low voice. “I think Angel might be coming up from L.A. tonight. He said he wanted to talk to the both of us. You think you’re up for that?”

“Do I have a choice?” Spike asked, almost bitterly.

She touched his hand, gently. “Actually, you do. If you don’t want to see him, that’s fine. I’ll make sure he stays away from you.” At the look on his face, Buffy said, very quietly, “There is nothing that he could say that can change the way I feel about you.”

Spike stared at her, startled into meeting the Slayer’s eyes. “Buffy—”

“I care about you, and nothing will change that, okay?” she said. “Plus, we’re dating, and nobody gets to mess with my boyfriend.”

His face softened, looking almost boyish. “You mean that, luv? Really?”

“Absolutely.” Buffy reached up and pulled his head down for a quick kiss. “But you really need to shower now.” She gave him a smile that was full of mischief. “Next time, we’ll talk about me joining you.”

~~~~~

Angel glanced from his watch to the closed door nervously. It was after nine, so Buffy should be home by now, but it wasn’t as though she’d actually given him an invitation. Angel wasn’t willing to wait, however, and so he’d had Wesley do the driving while he’d crouched under a blanket. Not the most comfortable way to travel, but he’d had worse trips.

Next to him, Wesley rolled his eyes, reaching past the vampire to knock on the door. “Honestly, Angel. If you were that worried about coming up, you could have just called again and made certain that it would be okay.”

“This is important,” Angel said. “I wanted to talk to her, see how she’s doing. And—” He sighed, thinking of the other part of his mission. “I also want to talk to Spike. If it’s true, then he might, you know, appreciate someone who understands.”

Wesley raised a skeptical eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. The door swung open to reveal Buffy. “Hey guys,” the Slayer greeted them, with an amused smile. “I figured you’d be here.” She glanced over at her former Watcher. “Angel make you drive him?”

He shrugged. “It was still daylight. And, if our suspicions are correct, it’s probably wise that I’m here.”

Buffy stepped aside to let both of them enter. “Okay, now I’m a little nervous. What’s wrong, Angel? And why couldn’t you just have told Giles over the phone?”

“I think I might have been wrong about Spike,” Angel blurted out.

Buffy gave him her sternest look, which had melted far stronger men. “Duh. That’s what you had to tell me?”

“It’s more complex than that,” Wesley said, putting a hand on Angel’s arm and stepping closer to the Slayer. “If Angel was wrong, and this warlock did give Spike his soul, it’s possible that he might still be linked to him somehow.”

The Slayer’s face hardened. “Crap. We’ve been having some weird things happen. A few days ago, we were attacked by Mirok demons, and then last night it was Effren—Effren—something.”

Wesley recognized the name immediately. “Effrendiks? Was Spike harmed?”

“He got infected. He’s doing better tonight, but let’s just say last night wasn’t a picnic.”

Wesley nodded. “I see. You’re lucky he didn’t harm himself, or you. I’ve heard of stories about vampires’ hallucinations while under the influence of Effrendik venom. They aren’t pleasant.”

“No kidding,” Buffy said, sparing an almost warm smile for the man. Wesley seemed to have lightened up quite a bit in the intervening years. He looked almost—hip, at this point. “Spike’s in the kitchen, if you want to talk to both of us at once.” She paused. “And Angel? You will behave yourself. Spike’s still not 100%.”

~~~~~

The shower had helped clear his head a bit, Spike had to admit, and the clean clothes were a relief. But he really had no desire to fog his senses again. Even though images and smells that he knew weren’t real kept popping up out of nowhere, he was doing his best to ignore them and concentrate on what Dawn was saying.

“So anyway, we went to the mall, and I saw Kirstie. You should have seen her hair. I don’t know why she thought a perm would be a good idea, but it so wasn’t.” The teen hadn’t really stopped for a breath yet. “And then I saw Laura, the sneak! She said they were going on vacation, and they were going to be out of town the entire summer, but I know she was lying to me. I mean, there she was, right there. I wanted to go over there and call her a lying be-yotch to her face.” Dawn finally paused. “Spike? You okay?”

He’d been getting a far away look on his face that told Dawn he wasn’t completely with her. At her question, Spike shook himself out of his daze. “Yeah, sure, Niblet. ‘m alright.”

“Spike,” Tara looked over at him from her place by the fridge. She’d come into the kitchen to get something to drink for her and Willow, and knew that Spike wasn’t really telling the truth. “You should drink some of that tea again. It’s been over six hours now.”

Spike shook his head stubbornly. “Want to be on top of things for when Peaches comes. That stuff makes me lose my focus.”

Tara sighed. “And the hallucinations? I don’t think those are going to make you any sharper.” She looked over at her girlfriend, who had come in to see if she could help. “Would you tell him?”

Willow shrugged, and then looked at Spike sternly. “You really want to make Buffy sit on your chest again?”

Spike growled a “fine,” and Tara smiled, handing him the glass she’d already filled. “Just think, Spike,” Willow said in an encouraging voice. “Another day or two, and this will all be a memory.”

“A really bad memory,” Spike grumbled, though his face cleared a little bit when he remembered Buffy’s solicitousness. He drank down the tea, making a face. “You know, that stuff’s not so bad, but I’ll be happy to never drink another glass again.”

“Could I try it?” Dawn asked, curious.

“No!” Both Spike and Tara spoke at the same time. Tara finished the sentiment, “It’s very strong, Dawn. In order for it to affect Spike, I had to make it extra potent. If you drank it, you’d probably be out for hours, if not days.”

“Oh,” Dawn looked a little disappointed. “So it wouldn’t make me happy or anything?”

The adults in the room—including Spike—exchanged looks. By silent assent, Tara and Willow left the room, leaving Spike to deal with Dawn’s question. “Dawn, luv, why do you ask?”

“It’s just—you know, it might be kind of nice to be happy for a while. Really happy.” Dawn looked uncomfortable.

Spike sighed. “Little Bit, somethin’ like that’s not gonna help you, an’ this definitely won’t. You remember what happened when Willow tried to short circuit the bein’ sad thing with the ‘my will be done’ spell? I won’t complain about it now, but it coulda ended up a lot worse.”

“I know that, Spike. It’s just—it hurts so bad sometimes,” Dawn said.

Spike gave her a sympathetic smile, and reached across the counter to smooth her hair back from her face. “I know, luv. But you can’t dull that kind of pain with anythin’. I know, because I’ve tried.”

Neither one of them had a chance to say anything more, since just then Buffy walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Angel and Wesley. “You doing okay, Spike?”

“Yeah, just fine,” he said, sounding more than a little grumpy. Spike wasn’t at all happy to see his grandsire. He looked over at Angel. “So what’s so important that you had to come to Sunnyhell, huh? Want to beat on me again?”

Angel curbed his annoyance with some trouble. “I needed to talk to you and Buffy,” he replied. “It seems I might have been mistaken about you not having a soul. And Wes here seems to think that the warlock could be using it to keep track of you.”

“What does that mean?” Spike asked, looking over at Buffy.

Wesley spoke up. “That means that if the warlock’s goal was revenge, he could be keeping track of your whereabouts and emotional state through the curse. It puts you—all of you—in danger.”

Chapter 8: Chipless

Lyndon was not happy with the way things were going. The Effrendik venom had worked just as he’d hoped, and for twelve glorious hours Spike had been howling mad. Then the Slayer had to step in and comfort the beast. He might have been able to live with her interference if someone hadn’t come up with a way to mitigate the effects of the poison.

Lyndon cursed softly. This simply wouldn’t do. He knew that the Slayer was allied with at least one witch, possibly two. He had felt the wards go up on the Slayer’s house, as well as that new house Spike had found. There had been other surges of power too, which Lyndon believed to be the other places of residence for the Slayer’s friends.

This simply wasn’t going to work, he decided. Attacking the vampire and the Slayer was all very well and good. It was at least amusing, but it wasn’t good enough. He needed to get her friends out of the way, particularly the witches. He’d felt some real power there. His eyes narrowed. Now, he just had to decide how he was going to do it.

~~~~~

Spike and Buffy were looked at Wesley incredulously. “Keeping track of Spike through the curse?” Buffy asked.

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Wait just a bleedin’ second. You’re tellin’ me you were full of shit when you said I didn’t have a soul?” He was looking straight at Angel when he said it, and Angel looked away.

The others had joined them in the kitchen by now, and they all seemed a little surprised, though not at the fact that Spike had a soul. “You didn’t know?” Giles asked.

Spike looked from one person to the next. “Didn’t know what?”

“That you have a soul,” Willow said. “Nobody told you?”

Spike frowned. “I thought—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Buffy said firmly, interrupting him. “It doesn’t matter if Spike has a soul. It doesn’t make a difference.”

Wesley cleared his throat. “I’m afraid you might be mistaken, Buffy. If this warlock was able to give Spike a soul, he may still be connected to him. I might be able to break the connection, but we have to know for sure.”

Buffy moved to stand next to Spike. “I don’t see why we have to know if Spike has a soul or not. It doesn’t matter.”

“Buffy, Slayer, ‘s alright,” Spike said softly, putting a hand on her arm. He was feeling a little fuzzy from the tea Tara had made him drink. One thing he did understand, however, was that he needed to know. He needed to be sure of what he was now, what that warlock had done to him. If Watcher Jr. knew how to find out, he was willing to take the risk.

She looked at him. “Spike, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “An’ that means more to me than you know. But I have to figure this out for m’self, pet.”

Buffy bit her lip, but finally nodded. “So, what’s involved here?”

The ingredients were fairly simple, and while Wesley hadn’t brought them along, it was an easy matter to have Giles call Anya and ask her to bring the needed supplies. Meanwhile, Buffy pulled Spike with her out to the back porch. He lit up a cigarette immediately, not having had one since the previous evening. “You were just dying for one of those, weren’t you?” she asked, amused.

“Something like that,” he admitted. “Not dyin’ since I’m already dead.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, looking behind her as Angel slipped out the back door. “I wanted to talk to both of you,” he said.

“You want to tell me why you said what you did the last time you were here?” Buffy demanded. “It’s not like it matters now, but it certainly looks like you were overreacting.”

“I—” Angel stopped, and then looked Spike in the eye. “I owe you an apology. I said what I did because I couldn’t believe that you actually had a soul. After—After we got back from Pylea, I started thinking about it, and I realized that I was probably wrong. If I was, I could be putting both you and Buffy in danger.”

Spike nodded, knowing that the real reason Angel had admitted his mistake wasn’t out of some sense of responsibility for Spike, but out of feeling for Buffy. He could live with that. “Thanks for carin,’ Peaches,” he said.

Angel looked as though he were going to retort, but seemed to think better of it at the last moment. Spike usually just wanted a rise out of him, and the best thing he could do would to not react. “You’re welcome.”

The younger vampire smirked, knowing that Angel had caught onto his game, and nodded. “So you’re not going to make a big deal out of this?” Buffy asked. “Because I swear—”

“It’s okay, Buffy,” Angel said, looking pained. “Well, it’s not okay, but I like Spike better than I liked Riley.”

Spike grinned broadly. “An’ who wouldn’t?”

“Spike—” Buffy gave him an exasperated look, and he just smiled back. She shook her head. “You really must be feeling better.”

He sobered slightly. “A bit. They’re—they’re not as overwhelming.”

His eyes met hers and Buffy realized what he wasn’t saying. The visions were still there, still disturbing, he just wasn’t completely off his nut. “Why don’t we go inside and wait for Anya?”

Spike nodded, and was about to follow the Slayer inside, when Angel caught his arm. “We’ll be right in,” he told Buffy. She didn’t look happy about leaving them alone, but when Spike nodded, she went inside.

“Look, Spike—”

“Save it,” Spike said. “I know what you’re goin’ to say. Same thing her friends will get around to sayin’ to me. ‘Hurt her, an’ we’ll stake you.’ Can we just leave it there?”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Angel said, annoyed. “Though, same goes for me.” He shook his head, frustrated that Spike had managed to put him off track, as he so easily seemed to be able to do. “No, I know you’re good to the people you think you need to take care of, Spike. I’m actually not all that worried. I remember how you took care of Dru.”

Spike considered his grandsire’s words for a moment, before nodding, knowing that this was as close to Angel’s blessing as he was going to get. It was about as close as he wanted to get. Too much had gone on between the two of them to go merrily along, but they had been as close as two vampires could be at one time. “Then what was it?” he asked, his tone softer.

“I know what it means to have your soul returned,” Angel said. “If you need someone to talk to…well, you could talk to me. Not that I necessarily want you to, but you can.”

“Right,” Spike said, unsure of what to say to reply to that. “Well, thanks for the offer.”

“Spike?” Dawn stuck her head out the door, looking excited. “Anya’s here. Wesley’s ready to do the spell.”

“You actually excited ‘bout me getting experimented on, Bit?”

Dawn shrugged. “It’s magic. Spells are cool.”

“Yeah, s’pose so,” he replied wryly. “If you’re not the one getting magicked.” Spike stopped, putting his hand on one side of the door frame.

“You okay?” Angel asked, sounding a lot more concerned than he wanted to.

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Just a bit—dizzy. It’ll pass.”

Angel followed him indoors and into the living room, where Wesley had set up what he needed for the spell. The others, including the newly arrived Xander and Anya, were standing around and looking on with interest. “Good,” Wesley said, nodding at Spike. “Are you ready?”

“Is this goin’ to hurt?” Spike asked suspiciously.

Wesley smiled a little. “No. The spell will actually have more of an effect on me than on you. I’ll go into a trance state, and I should be able to see not only your aura, but also if anything has connected itself to you.”

“An’ if it has?” Spike asked, sounding a little nervous.

“I’ll try to break the connection,” Wesley explained. “That’s why Tara and Willow will also be with me on this. Between the three of us, we should be able to break any hold the warlock may have over you.” He waved to a spot in the middle of the floor where he’d cleared space. “Now, if you’ll just have a seat.”

Spike lowered himself to the floor slowly, taking an apprehensive breath. He looked over at Buffy, who smiled. She wasn’t feeling completely happy about this herself, but if Wes was right, and the warlock had some link to Spike, it was better to get rid of it now.

To everyone else in the room, it didn’t appear as though anything were happening. Wes, Tara, and Willow were seated in a triangular formation around Spike, who was still looking a little nervous. There was some chanting, and lighting of candles, and burning of herbs, and then Spike looked like he’d gone to sleep, while the others just stared at each other.

Buffy sidled a little closer to Giles. “What are they doing?” she whispered.

“They’ve asked for their inner eye to be open. From now on, they’ll be communicating telepathically.” Giles looked slightly impressed. “Apparently, Wesley has become quite proficient in these matters since we last saw him.”

“Wesley looks as though he’s gotten a lot more proficient in general,” Buffy remarked under her breath, though loud enough for Giles to hear. “I think L.A. has been good for him.”

“I think being out from under the Council’s thumb has been equally beneficial,” Giles replied. “Getting fired does have a freeing effect on one’s personality.”

“And you would know,” Buffy teased. “Though you haven’t gone back to being the same old stick in the mud since you got rehired.”

“One does not go backward in life,” Giles replied. “Thankfully, I might add. From what I understand, Angel’s been quite a good influence on him as well.”

Buffy looked thoughtful. “And you know? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

~~~~~

“Oh wow.” Willow’s sentiment was echoed by her girlfriend almost immediately.

Tara’s voice filtering through her conscious mind like bells. “This is incredible.”

“Indeed.” Wesley’s dry tones had the sound of slight awe as well, but he was better at hiding it.

Tara’s smile could also be felt through the bond. “I’d had glimmers of this, but I’ve never been able to see so clearly.”

They were looking at the room as through through a filmy veil. The auras of the others in the room were all that was visible of them. In this trance-state, the real world was nearly invisible, leaving only the mystical to stand out solidly. All three of them were focused on Spike, at the center of the triangle. His aura pulsed a bright blue, threaded through with lines of black, almost like cracks in glass. The lines were pulsing in time with the aura, however, and all three took a moment to stare.

“So he does have a soul,” Wesley breathed. He hadn’t been certain, but he had certainly wondered. Quite honestly, he couldn’t see what else might have changed William the Bloody in such a drastic manner. But the Slayer’s reaction to his looking to see if Spike had a soul or not seemed to suggest that the changes had begun earlier.

Willow was staring as well. “What are the black lines though?” she asked, looking around the room. There were two other auras also threaded through with black. One she recognized as Angel’s, and it almost appeared as though the black and red were fighting each other for dominance. The other’s also pulsed in time, though the lines were fainter and less visible.

“I’d wondered,” Wesley said quietly.

Tara recognized both immediately, having already gotten glimpses of both of them. “It’s Angel and Buffy.”

“But the black?” Willow insisted. “I mean, if it were only Angel and Spike, I’d say it was their demons, but Buffy doesn’t have a demon.”

“The Slayer is more than human,” Wesley reminded her. “The Council isn’t very open about where that power comes from, but there is some indication that it stems from the darker side of things.” He considered for a moment. “Interesting, but Spike seems more at peace with his demon than Angel does.”

“He’s been changing for a long time,” Tara supplied, confirming Wesley’s suspicions.

Wesley nodded. “Very well. In any case, it is imperative that we begin. Too long in this state, and we will not have the necessary energy to break any ties this warlock might have.”

Disregarding the delights the inner eye offered, the three magic workers focused on Spike. The tie, once they started looking for it in earnest, was easy to spot. It appeared as a thin, murky brown thread. Even just following it psychically made all three feel dirty. “Ick,” Willow thought, broadcasting to the others. “I’m definitely going to need a shower after this.”

“It’s bad,” Wesley agreed grimly.

Tara mentally shook her head. “More than bad,” she said. “It’s steeped in dark magicks. We’re going to need to do a cleansing spell for all of us after this.”

“And probably Spike too,” Willow added, feeling more grim as the seconds ticked by and they got closer to the source.

The source of the tie was close to them. They sensed that he was in Sunnydale, although they couldn’t pinpoint his location. But his mere presence was a definite indication that someone was out to get Spike. “We’ll break it off near Spike,” Wesley warned them. “The circle should protect him from any backlash.”

Willow felt a harsh satisfaction, knowing that the warlock wouldn’t be expecting this, and would have no such protection. As Wesley mentally counted down to three, Willow joined with Tara’s mind, the two of them meshing seamlessly, and then drawing Wesley in so that they might act as one. For one perfect moment, they were in complete accord, and in that moment, they struck with all the power available to them.

The tie strained, cracked, then broke under the weight of their combined offensive, and the three of them could feel the power drain into the protective circle. In the next moment, they broke away from each other, unable to hold the unity for more than an instant. Tara and Willow lingered for mere seconds, sending each other tender mental caresses, and then shook themselves.

The others in the room hadn’t noticed that anything at all was happening, though Giles senses had picked up a strong surge, attuned as he was to the use of magic. “So did it work?” Xander asked from his corner. “Is Spike all soul-having now?”

“It worked,” Wesley replied in a scratchy, tired voice.

Buffy moved over to Spike’s side. He was still unconcious, and she felt a surge of sympathy. It had really not been his week. “Will he be okay?”

Tara was the one who replied. “He’ll be fine, Buffy. But the breaking of that kind of tie can be traumatic.” She looked apologetic, and Wesley continued.

“Because of the Effrendik poisoning, it is difficult to tell how this will affect him, Buffy,” Wesley said gently. “I imagine there could be a setback. You might need to restrain him.”

Buffy looked at her Watcher, who nodded at the tranq gun sitting unobtrusively in the corner. “We’ll be fine. The restraints could just freak him out more.”

Wesley nodded. “Of course.” He looked over at Angel. “Unless you need us for something else, Angel and I had planned on driving back tonight.”

The statement was more of a question, directed at the vampire. Angel hesitated. They had planned on driving back to L.A. as soon as possible, but he hated to leave so soon. That, and he was uncertain about leaving Buffy with Spike, no matter what he’d said earlier. “If you want some help with this warlock, you know…”

“We know how to get in touch with you,” she said, shaking her head. “But we’ve got a couple powerful witches of our own.”

Angel nodded, knowing that he had no other excuse for staying. “Yeah, well, you’ll let us know how it turns out?”

“Sure,” Buffy said, walking him to the door and outside. Angel pulled her aside, off the porch, as Wesley shook hands and said his own good-byes.

Angel looked uncomfortable. “Look, Buffy, make sure you know what you’re getting into with Spike. I don’t think he’d intentionally hurt you, but if you’re not serious about this relationship, he could go off. He’s very possessive.”

“Then that makes two of us,” Buffy replied, with a smile. “Look, Angel, I know you and Spike aren’t the best of buds, but we’ve gone over this already, remember? We’re each free to live our own lives now. We both knew we’d move on someday.”

Angel gave her an appraising look. “You’ve really grown up, you know that?”

“I had to,” Buffy said softly. “Somebody around here has to be the responsible adult.”

Angel nodded, knowing that she was referring to her mom’s death. “I’m sorry, Buffy.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, almost meaning it. “I mean, it’s getting better. And Spike helps. I couldn’t tell you why exactly, but he really does.”

Wesley came up to them then, clapping one hand on Angel’s shoulder. “I think it’s time to go, Angel,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. He held out his right hand to Buffy. “It’s been good to see you again, Buffy.”

“Never thought I’d say this, but likewise,” the Slayer replied. “Take care of yourselves.”

Angel cast one look back over his shoulder as they went to his car, and then did not turn again. Buffy didn’t stay to watch them go. For the first time, she felt that there was an ending to her relationship with the vampire. It felt over, rather than just on hold. And she had a brand new something to look forward to.

~~~~~

For the first time since he’d been poisoned, Spike woke feeling refreshed, and not as though he’d been put through the wringer. Even though his head did hurt abominably.

“How are you?” Buffy asked. She had slept by his side all night, and had been waiting for him to wake up. Tara and Willow had seemed to think it would be a while, and they warned her that there might be some trauma. But Spike seemed to recognize her, and his eyes were clear.

“M’ head hurts,” he mumbled, bringing himself to focus on her. “But other than that, better. What are you doin’ here?”

She smiled at him. “Waiting for you to wake up. Oh, and sleeping. I figured I could trust you to share the bed with me.”

“You have to work today?” Spike asked, a plaintive note in his voice.

“Yeah,” Buffy said, sounding a little disappointed herself. “But Dawn will be here. So you’ll have company.”

“An’ then I’ll patrol with you tonight,” Spike added.

Alarmed was about the only way to describe Buffy’s expression. “Spike, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Not if I’m still feelin’ a bit off,” he agreed. “But I feel better now, an’ I’ll be even better than that tonight. Not lettin’ you go out by yourself when there’s nasties from that warlock runnin’ about.” He paused. “That’s what you found out, right? I mean—”

“You have a soul, and the warlock was still linked to you,” Buffy said, quickly filling him in, having forgotten that he was unconscious for the big reveal after the spell was over. She reached over and stroked his cheek. “Wesley, Willow and Tara managed to break the tie. So now you’re warlock-free.”

“All the more reason I go with you,” Spike insisted. “Luv, if he noticed that, it could get pretty bad out there. I want to be with you. Can’t protect you if I’m not.”

Buffy sighed, knowing that she really had no way of stopping him from coming with her, short of chaining him up. “Alright. If you’re still feeling okay tonight, you can come.”

Spike spent the rest of the day with Dawn, reading and watching TV. He had managed to finish the second Harry Potter book, and they were having a rather rousing discussion on whether actual basilisks existed. Spike said no, as he’d never seen one. Dawn maintained that there was always a possibility, and he couldn’t convince her that he’d seen everything there was to see.

Buffy came home while they were still debating over possibility versus probability, and she’d brought leftovers from the restaurant for her and Dawn. They were still discussing it when the Slayer announced her plans to leave. “Are you coming, Spike?” she asked, with barely concealed amusement.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” he assured her, squeezing Dawn’s arm in farewell affectionately. “We’ll talk ‘bout this tomorrow, Bit.”

“Don’t forget what you promised,” Dawn said, referring to his promise to teach her some moves two nights ago.

He winked in lieu of an answer, and he and Buffy stepped out into the night air. Spike took a deep breath; he hated to be cooped up for that long. He usually slept during the day, but the Niblet had wanted to talk, and he’d felt as though he’d slept enough—or been unconscious enough—for the next week. But being inside and awake all day had driven home the fact that he was basically trapped, unable to go out while the sun was still up.

The Slayer had been well-meaning, but Spike had hated feeling so dependent on her, so weak. While he had enjoyed her taking care of him, that didn’t mean he liked the fact that she’d needed to in the first place. Being that helpless reminded him too strongly of being in that bloody wheelchair.

The night was quiet, more so than it had been in quite some time, and Spike finally commented on it. “Not seein’ much action out here tonight, luv.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, we’re not. I don’t think we need to worry about that warlock for a couple of days though. Willow said that the backlash from that spell will probably put him out of commission for at least a short period of time.”

“That’s good to know,” Spike said. “So if there isn’t much action here…”

Buffy smiled at him. “Oh, I think we could manage something,” she replied. “But I’m thinking we might want to go to your place. Dawn’s at home, so we’d have to be quiet.”

“I’m not plannin’ on quiet,” Spike assured her. They moved towards each other in one accord, starting on what promised to be a very steamy kiss. Which is, of course, why someone started screaming.

There was an instant where both of them were tempted to ignore the sounds of an obvious problem, but they finally broke apart and headed off towards the commotion. Spike got there first, and he launched himself at the two vampires who were hassling a young man and his girlfriend. At least, Spike thought they were vampires.

Buffy got there a split second behind him, and she called out a warning. “Spike, no! They’re human!”

It was too late. One of the muggers was hit by a powerful left from the vampire, and he flew into the brick wall of the alley, slumping unconscious. The Slayer quickly incapacitated the second, and turned to Spike, expecting to see him in quite a bit of pain from hitting a human.

Instead, he stood there frozen, looking from the two they’d rescued, to the thug on the ground, and over at Buffy, who quite suddenly realized why he wasn’t in pain. The stake was in her hand before she even had time to think about needing it.

Spike saw the stake, knew what it meant that he was able to hurt humans again, and growled deep in his throat, the demon emerging. He grinned suddenly, fangs prominent, showing the Slayer a taste of what was to come.

Right before he sank his teeth into her throat.

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