Definition of a Monster

by

Chapter One

She watched the sunset outside her window, like she does every night. I know she doesn't appreciate it like she should. She doesn't prize a sunset for what it is, the signaling of the evening, the moment of the day that most perfectly embodies who and what she is. The point in time that isn't day, and isn't night. It's an evening. Like her. She's a shining beacon of light, while fighting with a passion that must draw its power from darkness and pain. She is like the world, and life itself that way. Always darkest before the dawn, suffer into truth and all that. I'm not sure someone like her could even exist. I think that perhaps I made her up. Why, you ask? Because she does the impossible. She makes me feel alive. She makes me feel, period. Quite a trick to perform on a dead man with no soul.

"What are you doing?"

What…oh damn…got to thinking and didn't hear her come out.

"I'm just waiting for you, pet…"

"And why would you be waiting for me?"

"Thought you might like the company tonight."

"And you thought this why? You suddenly think you're the vampire version of Miss Cleo?"

She got that glimmer in her eyes she always gets when she thinks she's funny. She's not really that funny. More like cute. God…just did I just use the word cute? Never even in my bleedin' inner dialogue do I ever use the word cute.

"No, because I know the rest of the soddin' Addams Family PTA is out of town. Went to the poof's to see the cheerleader."

"No, they're not."

"Yes…they bleedin' well are. The nibblet told me."

She really can't lie. She's gotten better, though. The one she told her mum about being in a band was probably the worst. Girl can't even carry a tune.

"Dawn told you?"

"Yeah…actually asked me to look out for you while they're gone. What's wrong with the cheerleader, and why didn't you go?"

She hung her head. Damn. I hate it when she does this. Always walks away real fast and tries to play silent, babbling the whole time. It would be endearing if she wasn't so consistent with it.

"I didn't want to go."

Lie…

"And why not?"

"I just didn't feel like it."

"Oh, you'd much rather stay here and take a scenic tour of the glorious cemeteries of Sunnydale instead of road-trippin' it with your mates to see the supposed love of your life?"

She turned, and jumped back at me. Here we go, this is more like it.

"WHO said he is the love of my life, I don't remember ever writing that memo, especially not to you…"

"Uhhhhhh….you said it, luv…."

"I never told you that…and nothing's wrong with Cordelia."

"You told me by your actions, pet. I may be a vampire, but I know love when I see it. It may not have been love with the farmboy, but it was with Angel. Unless you're writing that off as the foolishness of youth, or a mass hallucination brought about by his massive amount of hairgel, that was the case. Did something change?"

"That's none of your business, Spike."

Touchy. Good. She's fun when she's touchy.

Oh hell. Here's the stomping off part.

I catch up to her as she plops herself down in the doorway of a mausoleum.

"Hold it a friggin' sec, woman…let a bloke catch his wind…"

"You don't breath, Spike…"

"Takes air to talk, though, luv…"

"I don't think anything could stop you from talking…besides you can't be out of breath."

Guess she's right about that. I sit down next to her and pull out one of my silk-cuts.

"So….you never said….if nothing's wrong with the cheerleader, why'd they run down like gooses with their heads cut off…?"

"Lovely imagery there…and it's geese…"

"What?"

"The plural of goose is geese, not gooses."

"Fine….why'd the gaggle go, luv?"

"Because…Angelus is back…"

Huh…not what I really wanted to here, mind you. Always hated the bastard.

"So, what, they thought they'd get out of the line of fire when he comes to play? Some friends you got there…"

"He's not coming here."

"How can you be sure?"

She turns to me, and she's almost crying. Sod it all to hell. I can't stand when she cries.

"I'm not the one he wants."

Sounds pretty damn unbelievable.

" Last time he traded his soul for that lovely set of torture tools, making you suffer was all he cared about."

"I'm not the one he wants…"

Hold on.

"The cheerleader?"

"She did it, Spike. Gave him true happiness."

"Oh…"

"I didn't think she could really do it. I mean…it's Cordelia…Queen Bitch of my High School Class…I mean I knew they were getting closer…but god, Cordelia?…"

Well…maybe she was talented. Angelus always liked that thing that Darla did with her tongue…mmmm…probably not what she wants to hear…

She starts crying the buckets now. I can't say anything. I try, but it doesn't come out. 120 years of slaughtering the helpless doesn't prepare you for being Mr. There-There. I reach over and am about to put my arm around her when she's on me. Leaning in. Crying. Crying in MY arms.

Probably not a good idea to try and do what I really want to do. Christ, what do I say?

"…..there…there…"

She keeps crying. Seems like an hour, but don't know really how long. I almost think she's asleep when she looks up at me…

"Spike…"

"Yeah, luv?"

"Why is the door glowing?"

I look behind us, and she's right. There's a light coming from under the door. Hmmm….maybe this'll get the poof off her mind.

"Let's find out."

I open the door and feel her follow me in. There's another door at the back of the crypt. The light isn't coming from under this door. The door itself is glowing.

"Spike…"

"Yeah…"

"I didn't go because I was afraid."

"Luv, can't we talk about his later?"

"I didn't go because I knew if I did, he'd kill me."

Huh?

"Why do you think that, pet? He never could before…"

"Because you were right. You said the day would come….and if I'd have gone today'd be that day."

Me and my big mouth.

"Listen, I was just saying that to get under your skin, you know that…"

"Shut up, Spike. I said you were right. And I hate it."

"No, luv. I wasn't. You didn't go, did you?"

"No…I guess I didn't."

"So what do you think that means?"

I never heard her answer because the door exploded behind me.

Chapter Two

I open my eyes and it's dark. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust before I realize it's Spike lying next to me. Wait we're not in a bed, are we, please tell me we're not in bed.

No…only a crypt. Jeez, only in my life would that be the lesser of two evils.

I get up and try the door. Won't budge…

"Spike…Spike get up, and help me…"

I look down, and he's still out. He should be awake by now. Vamps recovery time is usually as good as mine, and Spike's is usually better.

"Spike…Spike wake up…"

He doesn't move. What the hell do I do now? CPR? That'd be useless…how would I even tell if he's alive? It's not like he's going to start breathing again. So I settle on what's always worked for me with Spike. I hit him.

I punch him three times before he turns back to me in game face. I'm too close. He grips my shoulders and pulls me to him. Damn he's going to ….kiss me? I feel the fangs run over my lips, as his cool tongue dives into my mouth. Suddenly we're not lying down. His groin pins my waist to the nearest wall and my tongue tries to cut itself on his teeth. I can feel his power, his need pressing into me like a cold hard rush of rain. God, that feels good….

Wait…this is….Spike.

I kick him between the legs and I know that it had to hurt. Especially in the….condition…he was in.

"What the bleedin' hell was that for?"

"You kissed me…"

"You sound shocked, pet, but you were a very active participant."

"You stuck your tongue down my throat while you were looking like….like that…"

"So you don't mind that I kissed you, only that I did it like this."

I watched as his game face slipped away. I never knew which one was the real face, and which was the mask. I usually prefer the vampires I kill to be in game face. Spike I preferred in his "human" face. Maybe that's why I haven't killed him yet. Killed him…I'd just been panicking because I thought he was dead. What's that about?

"Spike…just shut up, and help me get the door open…"

Spike smiled like he just found out where his mom hid his Christmas presents. Huh…Spike's mom. Never thought of that concept before.

We pushed on the door. It was stuck. Would NOT budge. So we went back to the tried and true method used by those famous doorknockerdowners Gilligan and the Skipper. (I'm not sure exactly which one I'm supposed to be in that scenario, but I really don't think I'm fat enough to be the Skipper.) We took a run at the door, and it opens right as we're about to hit it. Typical. I fall on my face on the ground outside.

I look up to see something I'd never thought I'd see. At least not in person.

"Uhh….Spike….why is the Eiffel Tower in Sunnydale?…..Spike….?"

I look over and see him looking at me, wide-eyed. Uh-Oh. It's never good when Spike is speechless.

"What? Do I have dog poop in my hair? What?"

He points behind me. I see a vamp bent over a lady, draining her. I stand up and pull my stake.

"Alright, time to…"

Spike puts his hand on my shoulder. Looking at him, I can tell something's wrong. I hear the vamp finish.

"Spike, that lady's dead because you…"

"Look…"

The vamp in front of us drops the body and turns around, his hair pouring over his face. He wears one of those suits with the vest and the pocket watch. He doesn't see us, or if he does, he doesn't act like it. Instead, he takes a comb from his pocket and combs the hair back from his face. Oh God…

"Spike…that's…"

"Me…."

Chapter Three

The sun is finally down. We can move. Spike walks quickly ahead of me like he knows where he's going. Maybe he does. Obviously he's been here before.

"Where are you going?"

"What do you mean, luv?"

"I mean, where are you walking. You…the other you…walked the other way."

"I know…"

"So why are you walking this way?"

He turns around. Quiet. Tense. Frustrated. Great. He's gonna yell.

Then he doesn't.

"Because…you want to find out what's going on, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well…this is obviously Paris. And the way I …the way the other Spike walked is away from the city. Away from anything that'll tell us what the hell we're bleedin' doin' here."

"You're not the least bit curious?"

"Sure…but not right now. I mean, he's obviously not me…I mean I'm me…besides it can't be me, I'm much better looking than that…"

"Says the man who hasn't seen himself in a mirror since before the invention of the light bulb."

"I've seen pictures…anyway, let's on with it…"

"What says I have to go with you?"

"Buffy…."

"Yeah…"

"You parlez the francais?"

"…I took 3 years of French…."

"So in other words, no…Well, I do…so c'mon…we'll get some food in you, and find out what's going on."

I am kind of hungry so I go with him. We walk about a mile before we come upon a street that has any people on it. Awfully quiet for this time of night.

We step into the nearest café. The man behind the counter looks at us funny. He's fat, bald, and pasty. Hitting the trifecta on the studliness meter there.

Spike walks up to him and asks him something in French. The man hands him two cups of coffee, and some rolls. We sit down, and I watch the man watching us.

"That guy is major league creepy."

"He's French, what do you expect?"

"Well, that's kind of insensitive."

"I've got an excuse. I'm British."

"Yeah, right, like that means anything."

"It does."

"Since when?"

"Always has…"

"So why don't you live in England, then, and get out of my hair…"

"One…because I'm sensitive to your feelings. You couldn't take it if I moved back to the mother country…"

"Yeah, okay, you go ahead and believe that….and two?"

"British people taste funny."

"What?"

"Something about the food they eat…taints the blood….just never liked the taste."

"So you're telling me that British food is bad even for vampires?"

"Yeah…" Spike looked up. I turned to see Creepy French guy coming toward us, with a plate in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

"You ordered for me?"

"Yeah, figured you needed a bite."

"Thanks, I guess."

Creepy French guy sets the plate in front of me. Roast beef sandwich. Something I actually liked. How Spike knew that, I have no idea. I'm not sure if I even want to know. Creepy handed the newspaper to Spike.

I took a bite of my sandwich, which was really good.

"Bloody Hell…"

"What?"

"Look at this," he said, handing the newspaper across the table. I heard the bell on the door ring as someone else came in the café.

"I can't read French, Spike. I thought we established that."

"You can still read numbers, can't you?"

"Yes…."

"Then take a gander at the date…."

I did. That couldn't be right. There's no way.

"This is wrong…I mean…being halfway across the planet…maybe…but this…"

"Look behind you, luv."

I turned. A man stood there talking to Mr. Creepy. He was wearing a black uniform. One I recognized. Oh God. It was true. I turned back to Spike…

"That's…."

"A member of the bleedin' SS."

"Then the paper is right?"

"Explains the other me, now doesn't it?"

"I need some more coffee." I slugged it back. I couldn't believe it. This was not happening. Not only was I stuck in France with Spike….

I was stuck in France with Spike in 1943.

Chapter Four

Not the way I would have gotten her alone, but hey quality time in Nazi-occupied Paris is better than no time at all, I guess.

She gets the bright idea of trying to find me. The other me. It couldn't possibly be a coincidence she says, that both of me are here at the same time. I'll give her that one. Doesn't seem bloody likely. She asks what I remember about this time, and I have to tell her I remember rot.

"What do you mean you don't remember anything…."

"I remember some things….I remember it was fun…"

"Fun….World War II was fun…"

"Yeah…blood….mayhem…violence….passion…it's what life's about."

"And the millions of people dying…."

"Are you forgetting who you're talking to, luv….I'm a vampire, not the pope."

Actually, I like it when she forgets.

"Oh yeah…what am I saying…you were probably that guy on Schindler's List shooting at all the kids in the concentration camp."

All right, that's enough. I grab her, and turn her around. Time to set the little missie straight.

"Nothing of the sort. I may be a vampire. I may be a monster. But I am not, and never have been disloyal to the crown…"

"So you're saying you were one of the good guys during World War II? The same good guy who just killed that lady in the cemetery…."

"How do you know she wasn't a spy?"

Got her there….

"I don't…but I'm not going to bet on it…"

"All right, so I wasn't exactly in uniform. Could hardly be getting up at the crack of dawn to do jumping jacks, now could I?"

"So what….what did you do during the war?"

"Dru and I spend most of the war in Marseilles…we couldn't stay here…."

"Why not…."

"A couple of reasons…I mean you've got the Nazi poofters breaking down doors willy nilly…wouldn't do to have them raid in the middle of the day."

"I guess not….and the other reason…."

"Well, there was a…"

"SPIKE LOOK OUT!"

I turn just in time to have a huge black streak slam into my jaw.

Chapter Five

Okay, here's my day so far. I find out the love of my life has just turned evil because he found true happiness in the arms of the bitch queen of my high school class. I seek solace in a little vampire slaying only to be sidetracked by your overly friendly neighborhood bleached blonde vampire, and then somehow get transported with said vampire to World War Two France.

And we've just gotten attacked by a bear.

Only in my life would this be a typical day.

Spike actually looks scared of the bear. Oh God, Thanksgiving….he IS scared of bears….guess I'd better help him.

I take a running jump and knock the bear off of him. He's up pretty quickly. Then the bear does something freaky.

He talks.

"I've found him…he's over here…"

Spike and I look at each other. Paddington, he ain't. Who's he talking to?

Suddenly Spike is on the ground again. There's an arrow sticking out of his back. What now?

I turn and see several guys in black running toward us, holding up crosses. Fat lot of good that'll do them.

That may hurt Spike, but I use crosses as weapons. Crosses can't hurt me.

I'm on the ground before I realize something. Bears? Bears can hurt me.

Spike is up, but he can't do anything. The crosses have him stuck. I can throw the bear off, but I can see Spike wants me to wait. Guess we'll see what this is about…

A woman in a dark blue dress walks between the guys with the crosses. Her hair looks funny. Maybe it's because I'm looking at it upside down.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience…" she says in a very polished English accent.

Spike laughs. "No worries…we get this all the time, don't we, luv?""

Funny.

I see something in Spike's eyes. He smiles down at me. God, this bear has got some funk.

"Luv, you know something…this lady reminds me of our friend Rupert."

I realize he's right. Watchers.

"Yes, well, I'm sorry, but it was necessary. You two have quite the reputation. And it appears that your lady friend's skills have been sorely underestimated."

Us two? People think of us as a couple?

Spike nods…

"You are William Sumner, aka William the Bloody, aka Spike?"

Spike looks at me and shrugs…I nod…go with it.

"Yeah, what of it…"

"We have an offer for you and Drusilla, here…"

Whoa…they think I'm Drusilla…I look at Spike. He's about to break down laughing but he holds it.

"…uh…yeah…Dru, my darling…we want to hear this, right?…Just nod, honeykins…"

He is so going to get it for this. I nod.

"Yeah, Okay….what's the offer."

"We want you to kill the Slayer."

Chapter Six

Watchers have got us flanked. Crosses in front, and were-bear in back. Were-bear, God, where'd they get such?

I look over at Buffy, and she's still silent. I figure we better make sure we're on the same page here.

"Dru, isn't it nice to be around fellow BRITS again…I mean…especially now…all the Krauts hopping around…too bad you've got that problem with your throat, right?"

She digs a quick elbow into my ribs. That's my girl.

We stop at an intersection.

The lady watcher turns to us. "It'll be just a moment. We've had to arrange for special transportation for the two of you given the circumstances…"

"Sure…sure," I say. "Could Dru and I have a word alone for a second?"

"Of course."

They step away. The boys with the crosses and the crossbows are still eyeing me. The were-bear looks to be a small red-headed man now. Hmmm…big things in small packages.

I turn around and look at Buffy. She's got that glow in her eyes. God I love that. So green.

I take a good look at her. She looks damn good. Too good. I take off my duster and put it around her.

"What's that for?" she whispers.

"Because luv, you're supposed to be British, not Britney. And while it may look quite smart in 2001, pierced navels aren't really the rage these days."

"So…I'm a craaaazy vampire, remember. I talk to dolls and speak like some reject from Mary Poppins…what's a pierced navel?."

I look hard at her. She gets it.

"Oh…you just don't want anybody looking at it."

"Damn right I don't."

After sitting in the back of a cargo truck for about twenty minutes, the lady watcher leads us into a meeting room in the basement of the Louvre. I look around. There are works by Vermeer, Picasso, Monet….all hidden away from the Nazis, I expect.

Everyone leaves the room except for Buffy, me, and the lady watcher.

"Taking a bit of chance, aren't you, pet? I mean, what's to keep me and the missus from taking a quick bite?" Well, there's my chip, but she doesn't know that.

"A show of good faith. We have a genuine offer, and I would understand if you would be reluctant to believe the Council of Watchers."

"You said something about killing the Slayer…now why would you want to do that?"

"Because…Spike…the Slayer has gone rogue. She has allied herself with forces that we here at the Council find …truly evil…"

"Vampires?"

"No…a Slayer would never ally herself with a vampire…"

Buffy suddenly starts coughing….I have to catch myself to stop from laughing.

"But the Council would…"

"At this instance…the Council considers it the lesser of two evils."

Buffy suddenly pipes up with the worst British accent I've every heard… "Oh, Dolly, dolly, dolly, dolly…Spike is lesser…definitely lesser…"

She sounds like Julia Child on speed.

"And you need my help for?"

"We've already sent six of our own operatives after her. They've come back in various pieces."

"Yeah…so…"

"So you have killed a Slayer. In one on one combat, in fact. Only vampire ever known to do it. We need you to kill this one."

"And what do I get out of it?"

"You get to kill another Slayer."

I look at Buffy. "No go. I'm through killing Slayers."

"We're sorry to hear that….Mr. Sumner…may I call you Mr. Sumner…may I perhaps appeal to another part of you?"

"And which part will that be, lov?"

"You are British, yes…"

"Yes…"

"Take a look at these," she says, and plops down a folder in front of me and Buffy. I open it. God, that's appalling…even to me.

"What…" Buffy starts, then catches herself, and begins to speak like that fat cook again. "Whot is this?"

I jab her in the side.

"The experiments the Slayer is involved in for the Nazis. Hitler has a serious interest in the occult. So far the Slayer is his top prize. But this…this indicates that she is helping him to perform experiments on humans…trying to genetically engineer vampire soldiers who can survive in the daytime…"

"The Allies won't stand a chance…."

"No," said the watcher. "They won't."

"The rest of these pictures, are what then," I ask, looking at what appear to be personnel files.

"They are the subjects of the experiments…or at least suspected subjects. Culled from the ranks of concentration camps, and from Germany's own populace. Anyone with any trace of magical otherworldliness is subject to various forms of torture in order to further their experiments."

I look through the file, and stop at the last picture. It couldn't be.

"Who is this?" I ask, showing the picture to the Watcher.

"That…is the wife of our were-bear, Joseph. She was taken during the first wave of German assaults on its own Jewish people."

I show the picture to Buffy…her jaw drops…

"Her name?" I ask….

"Sarah Rosenberg."

Buffy looks at me, and then says in her normal voice…. "We'll do it."

Chapter Seven

The watcher looks at me like she swallowed a bird. She turns to Spike….

"What is going on here? You are William the Bloody, aren't you?"

"I am…"

"But she..this…she's American…"

I smile. Finally I can talk.

"I'm not Drusilla."

"You're not? Then who are you?"

"I'm Buffy."

She stood up and walked over to look at one of the paintings….she was shaking, but not in that freaky way, but in a way that made her look like she was thinking real hard. She took a pair of glasses out of her pocket, began to clean them. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and put them on. Wonder where I've seen that maneuver before…

"And you're a vampire, as well…"

"No, I'm not…"

She looks at Spike. He shakes his head.

"Nope, she's not a vampire. Next guess…"

"Demon?"

I smile. Usually everyone knows who I am. This is kind of fun. "Nope. Want to phone a friend?"

"What? You want to ring someone?"

"No, do you…never mind.." Okay. So maybe it wasn't that funny.

Spike nudges me. "It'll be funny in another 60 years, pet."

"I know, I'm just ahead of my time…huh…literally."

The lady walks around the table and looks me over like I'm about to bite her…I don't like it so ..

"Boo!" I yell, and she jumps back.

"Sorry," I say, "Spike must be rubbing off on me…"

"I am?…."

"I didn't say it was a good thing."

"But what I saw you do when you attacked Joseph…no human can do that…"

"She can….c'mon, think about it woman…girl…around vampires…extraordinary strength and agility…"

"You're saying she's a slayer? That's impossible. There can be only one slayer at a time."

I smile. "I wish that was the case. It usually is…but it's not like a law or anything…"

"But you were defending Spike…defending a vampire…"

Spike touches my hand, and says, "Luv, we might as well spill the whole kit and kaboodle…well almost," he says tapping his head. I get it. No chippie talk.

I look at the lady. She's still staring at me like I'm nuts. You'd think I'd get used to it.

"Okay…what did you say your name was?"

"Elena…"

"Elena, here's the scoop. We're…" I turn and look at Spike… " I can't believe I'm saying this. I feel so Ah-nuld…"

"You feel what?" she asks.

"Out with it, luv. They're probably our best chance of getting back."

"Okay." I look at her and smile. "I'm from the future…God, how hokey does that sound?"

"You're….from the future…"

"Yeah, when me and Spike got up this morning it was March 23rd, 200…"

"It was the 25th , pet…"

"Was not…"

"Damn well was, Nibblet's birthday is day after tomorrow…"

"I know when my sister's birthday is…"

"Well, obviously not…"

"Spike…she may hang on your every word, but she's my…"

Elena clears her throat pretty loudly…

"You were saying….it was what year?"

"2002."

"And you got here how?'

"We don't know."

"You don't know."

"No…we don't know…didn't I just say that?"

"And you expect me to believe…you're a slayer from the future…working with a vampire…and that it's possible to have more than one slayer at once…and you know this how…"

"Well, I died once."

"Twice, pet."

"Yeah…twice… thanks for reminding me, Spike. It's a habit I'm not fond of."

"You've died…twice…" asked Elena. "Actually dead…"

"Oh yeah, pet," said Spike. "Last time we had a tombstone and everything…"

"And another slayer was called each time?"

"Just the first time. I guess it used it up."

"So you know the new slayer, then?"

"Yeah, Kendra. I knew her."

"Knew as in past tense…"

Nothing gets by this lady. "Yeah…she's dead…or wait..she's not born yet…but she will be born…and be dead...anyway yeah…"

"And did you kill Kendra, Spike?"

"Me, no…"

"Who did?"

"Drusilla,"

"So you do know Drusilla…."

"Oh yeah. Crazy bitch."

"And another slayer was called…"

"Yeah….Faith…"

"You knew her as well…"

"Yeah. Wish I didn't."

"Why is that?"

Spike stood up and lit a cigarette. "You're not the only ones ever to have a rogue slayer problem, pet."

"So you killed Faith?" she asked Spike.

"No, he didn't. I stabbed her in the gut, put her in a coma. She's in prison now."

"One slayer fighting another…why?"

"She had poisoned Angel. It was the only way to save him…"

"Angel? You don't mean Angelus…"

"Not painting a great picture for yourself, here, luv," said Spike.

I realized he was right. I guess I'd better leave out that whole part about telling the Council to kiss my cute ass. Or the fact that Angel lost his soul `cause I had sex with him. Probably wouldn't go over too well.

"How do I know you're not the rogue slayer…cavorting with vampires…"

That's it.

"Listen, lady…Spike may be a vampire, but he's done more good in the past three years than you can maybe do in a lifetime. I don't know if that balances the scales with all the bad he's done, but believe me lady…he's paid his dues…"

I look at Spike. He's just staring at me. Got I hate it when he does that. Makes him look all….nice.

"And what sort of dues would those be?" she asked.

"He put his life on the line against a hellgod…he was willing to die for me, and you think I'm not going to trust him?"

"A Hellgod?…"

"Glory…"

"Glorificus, pet."

"Yeah, Glorificus."

"You fought Glorificus…together…and lived?'

"Well, I died…"

"But she got better," said Spike.

I smile. "Yeah…I got better."

"Just a moment. I'll be right back…I need to make a call…" She walked out of the room in a hurry. I could hear the door lock from the other side.

I turn around and Spike's right behind me. "You really mean what you said to her?"

God he's giving me the quiet voice. He only gives me the quiet voice when he's threatening to kill me or trying to kiss me. I hate the quiet voice. It makes him so…human. Everytime he uses it, I get so…I don't know how to act when he does that. He's used it more and more since Glory. It's almost his normal speaking voice these days. He knows I hate it. Knows what it does. God, I love it.

"You know I did…"

"You never told me…"

"Did I have to? I haven't staked you, yet, have I?"

"You never could, pet…"

I think about that for a second. Could I have? I threaten him all the time…he knows it's an empty threat, and always has been. Why, though?

Before I can figure it out, Elena comes back in.

"Please, " she says. "Sit down."

Both of us sit down, as a butler brings in a tray with tea on it. A butler. Wow. He's even stuffier than Giles.

She looks like she's waiting for us to say something…so I do.

"So do you believe us?"

"Yes….I do. You were immune to the crosses that my men used…plus, I've just had confirmation that Spike was seen across the city not five minutes ago…and since he is obviously sitting here….that leads to one conclusion…"

"Is it that obvious?" I ask. "I mean, I'd understand if you didn't believe us, it just…"

"Has your watcher ever told you…you do have a watcher, don't you?"

"Yes, I have a watcher, thank you for asking…" I say. I feel like I'm in kindergarten.

"Has your watcher ever used the term `Occisor Regina'?"

"He's never talked about my ….that's disgusting…"

"Pet…it's Latin…and I'm not sure about that modifier, by the way…"

"You….know Latin?'

"I'm quite the educated vampire, if I do say so myself."

"Okay, smarty-pants. What's it mean?"

"Slayer Queen," said Spike. "Pretty much describes you, I'd say."

I start to blush. How embarrassing is this? How does he do that?

I turn back and look at Elena. "No…no he hasn't…"

"We all thought it was a myth…"

"You, of all people, didn't believe a myth?" asked Spike. "You've got two myths standing right in front of you, and another one waiting outside like a rabid Winnie the Pooh…"

"Yes, well…it was written of…but was only supposed to happen every five thousand years…"

"What was supposed to happen?" I ask.

"There will be a slayer who cannot be killed. One who can fight the evil of vampires at its very core…."

"And you think that's me?"

"William here…and his grand-sire Angelus….are considered two of the most dangerous vampires ever to exist….yet you talk of them as if they are allies…as if you have converted them."

"It's not a religion, woman Buffy's not Jesus."

"Thanks…I think."

"No problem. You watcher types try to make it all complicated. There's a very simple reason I help Buffy."

Here it comes…the part I hate and love hearing at the same time. More love than hate, lately. I'm getting used to it. And he never gets tired of saying it.

"And what reason would that be?"

"I love her…"

"You…"

"He loves me. Get used to the idea." I turn and smile at him. "I have."

"But you're a vampire…"

"So? Cor, I get tired of having this argument…thought I was through with it…"

I look at the watcher. She's genuinely confused. Not that I blame her.

"So do you still want us to help? I mean, c'mon. We've got to be a better choice than the Spike of this time…and Drusilla? You don't want that ho anywhere near you, trust me."

"You still want to help us?"

"Hell, yes, woman," says Spike. "We've got an interest."

"And what would that be?"

"That's our business," I say. "You want our help or not?"

"Yes…yes, of course."

"Fine. You get talking to all the smart guys in tweed pants back in England, see if they can figure out a way to get us back. We'll go after the slayer. And you can tell…Joseph…we'll get his wife back, too."

"I'm afraid that isn't quite the plan…"

"Screw your plan, missie," says Spike. "Buffy doesn't take orders from the Council."

"You don't?"

Spike just grins. "She is the Queen, after all."