"It's not fair!" cried the young man as he stormed about the room.

On the floor a young gypsy girl cowered, sobbing in fear.

"He gets everything. EVERYTHING! He has Darla, yet still he wants Dru. And do you know why?" he leaned down to look the girl in the eyes. She was bound and gaged so she shook her head, tears running down her eyes. "Because she's mine. My dark princess, my love, my everything. He cares nothing for her. Hell, that's the whole reason she made me." His voice changed, becoming softer, "I'd do anything for her."

He began his furious pacing again. "Darla, she's the worst. She doesn't even care. The last couple days they've been inseparable, and what does Darla do? Gets him a pretty treat, leaves me to guard it while she runs off to find Angelus. Give's him a gift, as if she wasn't his Sire, as if he shouldn't be the one worshiping her. Well, it's not right. He can't have everything." He grabbed a knife from the mantle and hauled the woman to her feet. She tried to scream, and struggled. "Now now, none of that. You don't think I'd stick you with this knife do you?"

He cut the ropes that bound her and removed her gag. She started babbling at him. He didn't understand the words, but he knew that she was thanking him. Then she ran for the door. Before she could reach it, he was standing in front of it.

"Where do you think you're going my sweet?" He ran a finger down her neck as his eyes changed from blue to gold. She screamed, but it was too late. He was on her in an instant, his fangs sinking into her neck. It was a mistake he knew, Darla would punish him for ruining her surprise. But he didn't care. For once Spike would have something meant for Angelus, the consequences be damned.

The small blond girl walked confidently down the dark street of her new town. Someone was following her she could tell. There was only one thing to do. She turned into a small dark alley and waited. A moment later she could see her stalker. A man dressed all in black with hair so light it was almost white. As soon as he passed her, she swung down from her perch, using her momentum to knock him to the ground. As he rolled over, she stopped him with a foot on his chest.

Now she could get a better look at him. He wasn't an especially big man, but he exuded confidence and power. He stretched under her, like a cat and placed his hands behind his head, giving her a cocky grin. As he stretched his black t-shirt pulled tight showing off a well muscled chest. He had piercing blue eyes, that looked at her through thick lashes. Above his left eye was a cross shaped scar that broke the line of his eyebrow.

"Something I can do for you pet?" he asked in a British accent, although one much different from that of the school librarian.

"Why are you following me?" she asked.

"It's not what you think. I don't bite."

Not taking her eyes off of him, she let him get up, but she held her fighting stance.

"Nice trick by the way. Not many who've ever gotten the drop on me," he said, looking her up and down in a way that made her a little uncomfortable.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"The same thing you do."

"Okay, what do I want?"

"To have a normal life. To be left alone. But neither of us is going to get that."

She studied him for a moment, then she relaxed and said a little less annoyed, "Tell you what, you leave me alone, I'll leave you alone. Then we both win."

"I told you, that's not a choice. You're standing on the mouth of Hell. It's going to open, pet, and swallow you whole." For a moment she just looked at him. Then he reached into his coat, pulled out a small box, and tossed it to her. "I hope you're ready."

"What for?"

"The Harvest."

"Who are you?"

"Let's just say I'm a friend," he said, as he started to leave.

"Yeah well, maybe I don't want a friend."

He stopped and turned back toward her, "I never said I wanted to be yours." With that he left, his black leather duster flaring behind him.

She starred after him for a few minutes. Then she opened the box. Inside was a silver cross on a chain.

***********************

He was thankful for the shadows in the alley. It meant that she had never realized that when she stood on him, he'd grown painfully hard. Doesn't mean a thing, he tried to tell himself, you've just always had a thing for women who ambush you in dark alleys.

Not that she's a woman. Barley more than a girl. All the sweeter she'd be, whispered the demon.

No, he shouted to himself, that's not why you're here. This is just a distraction, not to mention the fact that she only has a few months to live. Except you don't believe in fate and destiny do you mate? That's why you're here, to prove Malcolm wrong, not to mention preventing hell on earth.

He sighed, then became aware of the action. Good, he thought, means I remembered to breathe during that little encounter. No point in tipping the Slayer off before she trusts me.

He doubled back, and watched as she entered the warehouse turned club. At a more desecrate distance he followed her in. Quickly the crowd of young people swallowed him up. Even so, he decided the catwalk would be the best place to watch her from.

He ascended the stairs, and found a dark corner. Absently he noticed an older man looking very out of place. As he passed him, he listened carefully and noticed a heart beat. Not a vampire then, and he didn't smell like a demon. Just a dirty old man who looked rather harmless.

He scanned the crowd. The young blond, the Slayer, had moved to the bar and was talking a red-headed girl about the same age. He watched the two girls talk, they seemed to have a rather easy camaraderie. He envied the ease at which she obviously made friends. Living or dead that was not a skill Spike had ever had.

Then she looked up, for a moment Spike thought he'd been spotted, but then he realized that she was looking at someone else. Someone else that she recognized and wasn't glad to see. She broke away from her conversation with the red-head and began to climb the stairs to the catwalk. Spike pulled further back into the shadows.

I feel love with my friends
I feel love in my songs
If I could just hold love
Then all the answers might come
I said, oh, if we're all children of God
And we just turned away
I got a lack of belief
I said a world without faith
It's time we turn back around


To his surprise it was the dirty old man she had come to talk to. Did she know something he didn't? He'd been sure the chap was human. They were so close Spike could now hear what they were saying.

"So, you like to party with the students. Isn't that kinda skanky?" she said.

"Oh, right, this is me having fun. Watching. . . clown hair prance about is hardly my idea of a party. I'd much rather be at home with a cup of Bovril and a good book," the older man said.

"You need a personality, stat!"

"This is a perfect breeding ground for vampire activity." So that's it, Spike thought, her Watcher. Should have known what with the tweed uniform. "It's dark, it's crowded. . . Besides, I knew you were likely to show up, and I have to make you understand. . ."

". . . that the Harvest is coming. I know, your friend told me."

"What did you say?"

"The Harvest. That mean something to you? 'Cause I'm drawing a blank."

"I'm not sure. Uh. . . W-who told you this?"

"This. . . guy. British, gorgeous in an annoying I still think it's the 80's sort of way. I figured you two were buds."

Fuck, thought Spike, just what I need, a Slayer making puppy dog eyes at me, even if she is a sexy little thing.

"No. The Harvest. Did he say anything else?"

"Something about the Mouth of Hell. I REALLY didn't like him!"

The band finished its song and there was lots of applause. The Watcher moved around Buffy, leaned on the railing and looked down at the crowd. "Look at them, throwing themselves about, completely unaware of the danger that surrounds them."

"Lucky them."

"Or perhaps you're right. Perhaps there is no trouble coming, the signs could be wrong. It's not as though you've been having the nightmares."

Her silence was answer enough. Bloody hell, as if we didn't have enough prophecy problems already. Now the Slayer was having dreams.

"I didn't say I'd never slay another vampire," she continued, "It's not like I have all these fluffy bunny feelings for them, I'm just not gonna get way extracurricular with it. You know, if I see one, sure I'll. . ."

"Will you be ready? There's so much you don't know about them, about your own powers. A vampire appears to be completely normal until the feed is upon them, only then do they reveal their true demonic visage."

"You're like a textbook with arms, I know this."

"The point is, a Slayer should be able to see them anyway. Without looking, without thinking. Can you tell me if there's a vampire in this building?"

Hell, thought Spike, just what I need, an over ambitious Watcher. If she realizes I'm a vampire, this could get messy. He'd known it was too good to be true when the Watcher hadn't pushed her for more details on her informant. If the Watcher figured out who he was too quickly it would make Spike's job much harder.

"Maybe. . ."

"You should know. Even through this mass and this. . . din, you should be able to sense them. Well, try! Reach out with your mind," She began to scan the crowd, "You have to hone your senses, focus until the energy washes over you, until you, you feel every particle o-of. . ."

"There's one," she said pointing. Spike followed her finger, but it was no one he recognized.

"W-where?" Spike smiled, didn't think the girl could do it, huh Watcher, he thought. Typical, he's been told what a Slayer is all his life, but he still sees just a girl.

"Right there, talking to that girl."

"You don't know. . ."

"Oh, please! Look at his jacket. He's got the sleeves rolled up, and the shirt! Deal with that outfit for a moment."

"It's dated?"

"It's carbon dated. Trust me, only someone living underground for ten years would think that was still the look."

Spike had to fight to keep from laughing. He had to admit the vampire really had no sense of style. Still he wondered why if she had thought he looked out of date, she hadn't thought he might be a vampire.

"But you didn't. . . hone." the Watcher continued annoyed.

"Oh, no," Buffy said.

"Isn't that. . ."

"Willow."

"What's she doing?"

"Seizing the moment!" With that the Slayer headed down the stairs to save her new friend, a moment later the Watcher followed.

Once he was sure he wouldn't be noticed, Spike headed down the stairs as well. He had just reached the main floor of the club, when he noticed another blond sitting in a hanging chair. Darla. Spike was torn. He wanted to watch the Slayer work. See how good she was. He would need to study her if his plan was going to work.

On the other hand he couldn't afford to let Darla see him. He had no doubt that she would recognize him, and if the Master learned he was here in Sunnydale, things were going to get prickly. He could try and kill her, but that was risky. Darla had several centuries on him, and was, he knew, as deadly as they came. Not to mention she had always been one of the Master's favorites, he would be bound to notice if she turned up missing, and that would draw attention to both Spike and the Slayer.

After another moments hesitation he made up his mind. He would have plenty of opportunities to watch the Slayer in action, as long as his former family didn't know he was here. So he made his way out of the club.

And I thought my first day of school was bad, Buffy Summers thought. Here it was the second day and she had already had to save the life of her potential friends Willow and Xander once, lost Jesse, destroyed any chance of a social life by accidentally attacking Cordelia, been caught by the Principle trying to leave campus, and now she was breaking into a mausoleum looking for an entrance into the sewers.

Not to mention everyone in this crazy town seemed to know she was the Slayer. Giles, Willow, and Xander all now knew her secret identity, not to mention the strange guy from the alley last night. Who was he anyway? She'd assumed he must be some sort of Watcher or something because of the accent, and because he seemed to know about vampires and slayers. But Giles didn't know him, and he certainly didn't look like a Watcher, what with the black leather as opposed to the tweed.

What would it be like if he was my Watcher, Buffy found herself thinking. It was a silly idea, and yet she liked the thought of those blue eyes watching her. Not to mention that he looked a lot more laid back than Giles.

Plus he got her. Okay, so they'd talked for all of a minute, but he had not only known that she was the Slayer, but that she didn't want to be. Once again she wondered who he could possibly be, and how he had gotten dragged into all of this.

She entered the mausoleum and slowly looked around making sure that no one was there. She found the tomb empty of all but a few rats. Quickly she spotted the inner door from which the vampire had gotten the jump on her the night before. Her hand went to her neck, where she was still wearing the cross the mystery man had given her. She wondered if he had any idea that he had saved her life by giving it to her.

As she began to examine the lock, she heard a clicking sound behind her. She turned around to find the object of her curiosity lighting a cigarette.

"Those things will kill you," she said.

"If I were only so lucky," he said, taking a puff.

"Okay? You're a glass half empty guy aren't you? I don't suppose you've got a key on you?"

"'Fraid I don't exactly have a standing invitation."

"And yet you're here?"

"I knew you'd figure out this entryway sooner or later. Actually, I hopped it would be a little sooner pet."

"Sorry you had to wait," she paused, "Okay. Look, if you're gonna be popping up with this Cryptic Wise Man act on a regular basis, can you at least tell me your name?"

"Spike."

"Spike, what kind of name is that?"

"Not a pretty one."

Frustrated at his lack of helpfulness she turned back toward the locked door.

"It's not a good idea to go down there," Spike said.

"Deal with my going," she said turning back to him.

"It's not really any of my business, but tonight is the Harvest and if you don't prevent it, I'll have to. Otherwise the Master walks, and from what I hear that won't be a pretty sight."

"You're really full of yourself aren't you?"

"So I've been told."

"Also kind of lazy, I mean if it's so easy for you, why don't you just stop this Harvest yourself."

"Didn't say it would be easy, probably get myself killed. That's not the point, the point is that I'm not here to fight your battles for you. You're the Chosen One after all."

"Yay me," she said. Then she spun around quickly, kicking open the doors to the tunnel.

"They'll be expecting you," Spike said.

"I've got a friend down there. Or at least a potential friend. Do you know what it's like to have a friend?"

"Unfortunately yeah. Go on then pet. When you hit the tunnels head east towards the school. That's where you're likely to find them."

"You gonna wish me luck?"

"I don't think you need it."

With that Buffy turned her back on the annoying mystery man, and headed into the tunnels.

She didn't hear him whisper "Good luck," behind her.

****************************

Spike had no way of knowing whether or not Buffy had been successful in rescuing her friend. To be on the safe side, as soon as the sun went down he went straight to the Bronze. He knew that was where the Harvest would take place.

Still, he had meant what he said about not fighting the Slayer's battles for her. She needed to learn to stand on her own. If was to have any hope of defeating the Master she would need to know that she could defeat his henchmen. The last thing she needed was to be saved by a devilishly handsome stranger. So as soon as he got inside, he found himself a place to hide, up above the stage.

It wasn't long before they came, lead by a big ape of a vampire. Typical, thought Spike, the Master picks some big brawny guy to be his vessel.

Then the killing began. It was almost more than Spike could bear. The smell of blood beckoned to his demon, but the slaughter sickened his soul. This is what you are, a little voice whispered, this is all you'll ever be.

He'd had enough. She wasn't coming. She had probably died in the sewers earlier that day. And he had done nothing to save her. Now all of these people were dying because he didn't want to be involved. He was a worse monster than all the rest of him.

There was no way he could fight them all. He could sense that at least half the vampires present were older and stronger than him, but still he had to try, he couldn't let this go on. He was just about to leap down to attack the vampire the Master was using as his vessel, when a window broke near him, and the Slayer entered the scene.

She came! He was elated. She hadn't died. She'd gone into the lair of the beast, come back unharmed, and now here she was to stop the Harvest. Of course she's here, he reprimanded himself, has it been so long that you've forgotten what a Slayer is capable of?

There was nothing he need do now but watch her fight. She was incredible. Her stance was sloppy, she left her self open several times, but those were minor problems, all of which Spike knew he could easily fix with a little training. Where it really counted, Buffy Summers was all a Slayer could hope to be.

She was smart. She improvised easily, using everything from a pool cue to a cymbal as deadly weapons. She also had style. She used her tongue as a weapon as much as her fists. Every joke, every pun was deadly. It made the battle hers. It forced her enemies to treat her as if it were her turf and not their trap.

Nowhere was that more evident than when she actually managed to convince the Vessel that it was already daylight by smashing a window, and flooding the room with a bright light. The big idiot actually fell for it, and it gave her the chance she needed to get her stake and kill him. That was a stroke of pure genius.

There was one other thing he noticed. She hadn't come alone. As she began to fight the vampires, her Watcher, the red-head, and some boy began leading people to safety. He'd never heard of a Slayer with friends before, or at least not one who brought her friends out slaying with her. He didn't know what to think of that.

The remainder of the vampires fled and once the Slayer and her friends had cleared out, Spike got down from his hiding place and headed home.

On the one hand he was happy. She had stopped the Harvest and he thought, she could probably kill the Master with some proper training.

On the other hand Spike had done nothing. He had let those people be murdered. He could have done something, he could have at least bought them time until the Slayer had arrived. But he hadn't.

When he got to his apartment the phone was ringing. He picked it up, "Hello?"

"William? It's Malcolm. I take it all went well with the Harvest?"

"Well enough. This Slayer. She's something. You're wrong about her. All she needs is some proper training and the Master won't stand a chance."

"William, I wish that were the case, but the Codex is quite clear, 'The Slayer will die, and the Master will arise.' You're not there to save this girl, William, you're there to stop the Master when she fails."

As Buffy and Willow entered the Bronze, they saw Xander talking to some of the other guys from school. When he saw the girls, he came over to them and put his arms around both their shoulders.

"Babes!" he said.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked.

"Work with me here," Xander said, "Blayne had the nerve to question my manliness. I'm just gonna give him a visual."

"We'll show him!" Willow said, hugging Xander.

Buffy smiled at her friend. It was really too bad that Willow's attempt at seizing the day had almost gotten her eaten by a vampire. Buffy thought that Xander and Willow would be perfect for each other. If only Xander would notice Willow, it's not like he was interested in any other girl.

Then all thoughts of Xander and Willow were driven from her mind.

"I don't believe it," she said.

"I know, and after all my conquests," Xander said.

But Buffy wasn't listening to him, instead she walked over to where she had just spotted Spike.

"Who's that?" Xander asked.

"That must be Spike. I think?" Willow responded.

"That weird guy that warned her about all the vampires?"

"That's him, I'll bet you."

"Well, he's sexy! She never said anything about him being sexy!" Xander exclaimed

"You think he's sexy?" Willow asked confused.

"He's a very attractive man! How come THAT never came up?" he said.

"Well! Look who's here!" Buffy said to Spike.

"Hey there pet," he said.

"I'd say it's nice to see you, but then we both know that's a big fib."

"I'm not here to chit chat."

"No, you'll just give me a cryptic warning about some exciting new catastrophe, and then disappear into the night. Right?"

"You're cold."

"You can take it."

He took off his leather duster, and put it around her shoulders, "I mean, you look cold."

Xander who was carefully watching the whole thing, said to Willow, "Oh, right! Give her your jacket. It's a balmy night, no one needs to be trading clothing out there!"

Buffy slipped her arms into the jacket. It smelled of smoke, leather, and liquor. She looked back at Spike. For a moment she was distracted by his arms, they were nice arms, then she realized that he had strange wound on one of them.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I didn't pay attention," he replied.

"To somebody with a big fork?"

"You need to be careful."

"Of The Fork Guy?"

"Don't let him corner you pet, or get in close. He'll rip your throat out."

"Okay, I'll give you improved marks for that one. Ripping a throat out, it's a strong visual, it's not cryptic."

For a moment she found herself just starring into his eyes. How can anyone's eyes be that blue she thought.

"I should go," he said suddenly. He was shifting about, looking uncomfortable. Then he just turned around and left.

Buffy stared after him, "Sweet dreams to you, too."

********************

Buffy was back in the Bronze. The She-Mantis was dead, virgins were safe, and also, she'd staked Fork Guy. She stood at the bar wearing Spikes duster, hoping he would show up. She couldn't help but smile when she looked up to see him standing there.

"I heard a rumor there was one less vampire walking about making a nuisance of himself. Nice job that," he said, leaning against the bar.

"There is. Guess I should thank you for the tip."

"Pleasure's all mine pet."

"Course, it would make things easier if I knew how to get in touch with you."

"And what would you do if you could?" he asked. There was something in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I. . . well. I don't know. Maybe you could just explain who you are."

"That's too long a story for right now, but I'll tell you why I'm here." Buffy perked up. She hadn't really thought she'd be able to get anything out of him. "You're good. I saw you, the night of the Harvest. That was good work, and Fork Guy as you call him, wasn't an easy kill either. But you're sloppy. You drop your shoulders, your kicks are all over the place and-"

She interrupted him. This was the last thing she expected him to say. "Hey, I don't see you slaying any vampires."

"You're right. But then you're stronger and faster than me. Still, I could get quiet a few hits passed you. Look, I'm not here to criticize, well, alright actually I am. But I can train you, make you better. If you think you're up to it?"

"I'm up to it. But if you think you have anything to teach me, you're wrong," who was this guy, thought Buffy. He thinks he can teach me how to slay vampires?

"My aren't we young and full of ourselves," he said, but he was smiling. He pulled a card out of his pocket. "Meet me at this address, oh, and I'd like my coat back."

God he's rude, thought Buffy. It's not like she'd intended to keep his leather coat, which looked so much better on her. She took it off and gave it to him. He put it on and she had to reappraise her opinion. Maybe it did look better on him.

******************************

As Spike entered his flat, he threw off his coat. It smelled of her, all over. He'd have to get the thing cleaned. What had she done? Slept in it?

He was angry. Very angry. But not at Buffy. What had he been thinking giving Nikki's coat to another Slayer. It's not as if she had been about to die of cold. Hadn't he done enough to Nikki without betraying her like that?

Spike pressed the pause button on the remote control and went over to the fridge to pour himself some blood. Things were not going well.

He and the Slayer had agreed to start training together in a couple days. He knew he needed to prepare for it. He needed to be able to show her that he knew more than her about fighting, without tipping his hand to the fact he was a vampire.

Of course he'd known that would be a problem right away, so since he'd arrived in Sunnydale he'd taken to following her when she patrolled and filming her fights. The idea was that he would learn her fighting style. Be able to analyze her moves, find consistent mistakes.

What he hadn't counted on was the raging hard-ons he got every time he watched her fight. It shouldn't have surprised him, after all ever since that long ago night when Drusilla had turned him, he'd been attracted to violence and violent women.

Not that it was a problem here in his own home, but what would happen when he was training her. What if she noticed him hard then. She might be the Slayer, but she was also a teenage girl. He didn't want to offend or frighten her.

The microwave beeped, and he took his cup of blood back to the chair in front of the TV. He started the tape up again, took a sip of blood, and unzipped his jeans, slipping them down off his hips.

He wrapped his fingers around the length of his cock and began to stroke up and down as he watched the screen. That's it baby, he thought, show me what you've got. Show me all those beautiful muscles just begging to be used. The tape he was watching had been filmed right before she'd gone to the Bronze one night, and she was wearing one of those short little sun-dresses she loved and knee high boots.

What a show she must give them, he thought, what a way to go with your last sight being up that short skirt. His hand began to move faster. Whenever it reached the head of cock, he rubbed his thumb over the tip. He began to squeeze himself harder as his hips raised up off the chair.

Careful luv, he thought, she'd delivered a rather sloppy kick. Someone might grab that leg of yours and knock you to the ground.

His eyes lost focus. He was no longer watching the screen, but imagining her underneath him. Her tight, hot, slayer muscles squeezing his cock till he thought he would burst. Another few strokes and he came.

He sat there without moving for a few minutes. Just enjoying the sensation. He knew he'd have to do this several times before he fought her if he wanted to hide his lust from her.

********************************

After his unsuccessful night waiting for the Anointed One to rise, Giles opened his mail box. He had finally given in and let Buffy go to the Bronze. What would it take to get her to except the seriousness of her calling? Now she wanted to date?

Absently Giles looked through his mail, most of it was junk, then he came across a manila envelope that had come from England. His heart leaped. The diary he had requested had arrived! But why would the Council send it through the regular post? Such a valuable item surely should have been insured.

He carefully opened the envelope, but to his disappointment, instead of a small leather journal, he found only a letter, and a large stapled report. The letter read:

Dear Mr. Giles,

The Council regrets to inform you that at this time The Diary of Malcolm Forrester can not be released to the general public. However, The Council wishes to in no way impede the efforts of the Active Watcher, therefore we have sent you the official record on Nikki Wood. We wish you all the best luck.

Sincerely,
Quentin Travers

Bloody hell, though Giles. I don't need the official report. I don't need to know how many vampires she slew, or what demons she faced, I need to know how her Watcher dealt with her.

Giles was livid. He went to poor himself a drink. He'd been so proud of himself when he had remembered hearing his father talk about how much trouble Forrester had had dealing with his Slayer. Nikki Wood had been the last American Slayer, and it had occurred to Giles that perhaps by reading her Watcher's diary he could find some hints as to how to deal with his own reticent Slayer.

Why would the Council refuse to send him the diary? It was a common enough request, not to mention that Giles was hardly the general public, he was the Active Watcher. He was supposed to have all the resources of the Council behind him so that he could aid his Slayer in fighting the forces of darkness.

He could feel a little of his old rebellious streak returning. How dare the Council try and sensor him. What could possibly be in Forrester's diary that they felt they needed to hide from him?

He picked up the phone. "Hello yes, Mrs. Rosenberg, this is Rupert Giles from the school library. Is your daughter Willow there?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to check with her about a book she had requested we order for a history project."

"Yes, I can wait. Thank you."

"Willow,"

"No, it's nothing like that, actually I had a personal favor to ask of you."

"Yes, you see I'm trying to track down an old friend of my father's. His name is Malcolm Forrester."

"No, no idea. The last I heard from him he was living in New York City. But that was quite some time ago."

"Yes I understand. I'm sure whatever you can find will be a great help to me. Thank you."

********************************

This was the last place Spike wanted to be. He wanted to be back in his apartment *preparing* for his training session with the Slayer. Not looking for her in the Bronze to warn her of some silly prophecy that was supposed to have happened last night anyway. Either Malcolm was starting to slip, or he had decided not to give Spike a heads up, so that Spike wouldn't mess with his bloody prophecies. Spike didn't know which one bothered him more.

He saw Buffy standing by the stairs to the catwalk and headed over to her.

"Hello pet," Spike said to Buffy.

"Spike," she said, even colder than normal.

"I was hoping I'd find you here."

"You were?"

"There's supposed to be some new big noise, The Anointed One, out there. Thought you should know."

"No, not you, too," she said as she tried to leave.

"What do you know?"

"Pretty much what you said. Prophecy, Anointed One, yada, yada, yada. . . "

"So you know. Good. Just thought I'd warn you."

"Warn me? You see that guy over there at the bar?" she said, pointing out Owen, "He came here to be with me."

"You're here on a date?" he asked. He was a little hurt, but at the same time he was glad. It's not like she has anything more than a school girl crush on you, mate, he told himself. Much better for her to be pursuing guys her own age. Let her live a little before nasty death comes to get her.

"Yes! Why is it such a shock to everyone?"

"Here you go," Owen said returning.

"Oh," Buffy looked back and forth between the two men, "Um, Owen, this is Spike. Spike, this is Owen," she said putting her arm around him, "Who is my date."

"Nice to meet you," Spike said.

"Hey! So. Where do you know Buffy from?" Owen asked.

"Met her at her mum's gallery," Spike said. The moment he'd said it, he knew it was a mistake. Buffy had never mentioned her mom to him, and she certainly didn't know that Spike had gone to her mother's gallery to get in good with Joyce. He figured sooner or later his path was bound to cross with the older Summers woman, and life was always easier if a girl's mom liked you.

Luckily, before Buffy could question him, Willow and Xander came running up, out of breath.

"Buffy!" Willow said.

"Look at this. You show up everywhere. Interesting." Owen said.

Xander pointed at Owen, "You don't know the half of it," then pointing at Spike, "What's he doing here?"

"I guess it's the same thing you're doin' here," Spike said.

"Uh, excuse me, what are ANY of you doing here?" Buffy asked.

Xander started up, "Look, we gotta get to, uh. . . " Willow kicked him, "Uhhhh. We thought it'd be fun if, uh, we made this a double date!"

Willow and Xander put their arms around each other.

"I didn't know you guys were seeing each other." Buffy said, obviously not believing them.

"Oh, yeah, well, we knew it would happen eventually, so we figured, hey! Why fight it?" Willow explained.

"And you guys are thinking double?" Owen asked.

"Cause of. . . " Xander laughed nervously, ". . . the fun!"

Owen turned to Spike, "And you're here because of art buying?"

"Hey, maybe we should all go somewhere together," Xander said.

"Gee, that's so nice of you to ask," Buffy said, "but Owen and I were, well, sort of. . . Owen and I."

"You know what'd be cool? The Sunnydale Funeral Home!" Xander said.

"I've always wanted to go there!" Willow played along.

"The funeral home?" Buffy asked, unable to believe this was happening to her.

"Actually, that sounds kinda cool!" Owen said, "Do you think we could all sneak in?"

"We saw some guys in there before. They seemed to be having fun!" Xander said to Buffy.

"Bite me!" Buffy said to herself. Then she looked at Spike. He just shrugged and gave her his best apologetic look. Then she turned back to Owen, "Um, Owen, I gotta go."

"I thought we were going to the funeral home" Owen said.

"No, you can't. I'll tell you what. I'll be back in a little while" Buffy said.

"Buffy. . . " Owen said, leading her away from the others, "What's the deal? Do you wanna bail on me?"

"No! No. . . no. . . uh. . . You remember when you said I was like two different people? Well, one of them has to go. But the other one is having a really, really good time, and will come back. I promise."

Owen just nodded his head and watched her go. She came back and laid a kiss on him. Then she really left with Willow and Xander close behind.

Owen turned to Spike, "She's the strangest girl!"

It was finally time. The night she and Spike had set for their first training session. She didn't know why she was going. Except she had told him she would when he looked at her with those dreamy blue eyes.

The address led her to what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse. There were no lights on, just candles spread about in a large rough circle. In the middle of the circle was Spike barefoot in his jeans and t-shirt.

He wasn't idle. In his hands he had a wooden staff which he twirled about him expertly. She watched as he spun it around his body shifting his grip back and forth to strike at invisible opponents first with one hand, then with two.

Buffy had never seen anything like it. For the last year of her life she had spent most of her nights fighting for her life or training, but she had never watched anyone else fight or train. It was like a dance. Spike was all dangerous grace. Suddenly she wasn't quite as sure of herself. Sure she was the Slayer, but he was obviously a trained fighter.

"I see you found it pet," he said, pausing in his routine. He flashed her a smile that made her knees week.

This isn't going to work, she thought.

"You know, I'm not your pet."

"You're right, you're the Slayer," he said, putting down his staff and walking out of the circle of flames. "So ready for a little sparring, or do you want a chance to warm up first?" he asked.

"I don't need to warm up," there was no way she was going to let him know how unsure she felt. "So do we need weapons for this?" she asked.

"Nah, I just like them, they make me feel all manly," he said good naturally as she took off her shoes and socks to match him. Then he lead her into the circle of candles and fell into a fighters stance which she mimicked, "We're going to play a game of tag Slayer. Rules are simple, you try and touch me. If you succeed I'm 'it' and I try and touch you. You can block however without becoming 'it'. Got it?"

She nodded. For what seemed like an eternity they both just stood there, looking in each others eyes, sizing each other up. But according to the rules of Spike's game it was Buffy's move. She feigned with her right fist and struck with her left, but he didn't fall for it and backed out of her reach.

She tried a few more such experimental attacks, feeling him out, but he kept his distance. Then she decided to press the attack. She moved in close, instead of one punch at a time, she sent a rapid succession of punches. He could no longer simply dodge out of her way, but those blows he couldn't dodge, he managed to block.

It's not fair, she thought. She was scared to use her full strength. She didn't want to hurt him and she knew that even blocking could be painful if it was a powerful enough blow. Finally she managed to spin around him and hit his side.

He smiled at her. Then suddenly he was attacking her. He was fast, but Buffy was faster. On the other hand she was quickly realizing that defense was not her strong point. She had always been taught that the best defense was a strong offense. She had to remind herself that she wasn't allowed to attack, only to dodge, and it was throwing her off. In half the time that it had taken her to tag Spike, he had tagged her.

Back and forth they went. Each taking a turn. Soon Buffy stopped thinking about what she was doing and lost herself in the rhythm. To her delight the intervals when she was 'it' became shorter and shorter. Still she never seemed to be able to evade Spike's attacks for long.

She was enjoying herself. Fighting Spike was exhilarating. It made her kind of warm and tingly in places she wasn't quite ready to deal with. Then much to her dismay he called an end to the game.

"Tired?" she teased.

"I'm not the Slayer," he said, but he didn't look very tired, he wasn't even breathing very heavily.

"Well, it's a stupid game anyway. Restricting yourself like that, letting someone put you on the defensive."

"Lesson the first: There's always someone stronger and faster than you. When you fight them, you need to stay out of their way long enough to figure out their weaknesses. Lesson the Second: You are stronger and faster than most things you'll fight. That's not going to matter if you are sloppy and leave yourself open. So, let's see what we can do to keep you from telegraphing you're punches to the world, shall we?"

"Hey! I don't-" but he silenced her with a look.

For the next two hours they trained. Much to Buffy's disappointment, she didn't get to directly spar with Spike again. Still it wasn't all bad. More than once Spike stood close behind her, shaping her body to correct her stance. Where ever he touched her it seemed to spark, and butterflies would swarm in her stomach. She was tempted to purposely mess up just so he would touch her more, but her reward for impressing him was almost as good.

Unlike Giles or Merrik who always seemed unwilling to admit how good she was, Spike was as quick to praise her when she did well, as he was to criticize when she did something wrong. She felt hungry for his approval, for his smiles.

Finally he called it a night, went over to a cooler she hadn't noticed, pulled out two bottles of water, and handed one to her. Gratefully she accepted, guzzling down the water. She noticed that he only sipped his.

They sat down together to rest and she asked him, "So what's the deal. Did you go off to China and study martial arts in some secluded monastery for seven years?"

"I've been to China, but not to study. Monastery's not really my thing."

Looks like it's back to being cryptic guy, Buffy thought. Still she now knew he'd travelled, okay he was British and this was America, so obviously he'd travelled. Still Buffy couldn't help but wonder at what sort of far off exotic places he might have been to.

"What about this?" she said brushing her fingers over the scar on his eyebrow, "You're pretty good. Really good actually. So who got close enough to do that to you?"

"My ex, bad break up." he said looking away from her. Then he just got up and left. Disappearing into the darkness outside their small ring of fire.

Okay, thought Buffy, obviously hit a sore spot there.

*************************

Willow and Buffy made their way to an empty table at the Bronze.

"I thought Xander would be here by now," Willow said.

"Hmm, that'd make him on time. We couldn't have that," said Buffy.

"Did he seem upset at all on the bus back from the zoo?"

"About what?"

"I dunno. He was quiet."

"I didn't notice anything," Buffy said as they sat down. Then smiling at her friend, "But then again I'm not as hyperaware of him as, oh, say, for example, you."

"Hyperaware?"

"Well, I'm not constantly monitoring his health, his moods, his blood pressure. . ."

Willow grinned, "130 over 80!"

"You got it bad, girl!"

"He makes my head go tingly. You know what I mean?"

"I dimly recall."

"But it hasn't happened to you lately?"

"Not of late."

"Not even for a dangerous and mysterious older man who you meet for secret training sessions?"

"Just tying to be the best Slayer I can be," Buffy joked.

"Come on, Spike pushes your buttons. You know he does."

"I suppose some girls might find him good looking. . ." Willow shot her a look. ". . . if they have eyes, alright, he's a honey, but. . . it's just he's never around, and when he is, all he wants to do is talk about vampires, and. . . I, I just can't have a relationship. . ."

"There he is!"

"Spike?"

"Xander!"

"Ah, the fumigation party," Willow said watching as another girl got a free drink for catching a cockroach.

"Hmm?" a distracted Buffy said.

"It's an annual tradition. The closing of the Bronze for a few days to nuke the cockroaches?"

"Oh," said Buffy, not really paying any attention.

"It's a lot of fun. . . What's it like where YOU are?"

Buffy looked up and smiled, "I'm. . . sorry, I was just. . . thinking about things. . ."

"So, we're talking about a guy?"

"Not exactly a guy. For us to have a conversation about a guy, there'd have to be a guy for us to have a conversation about. Is that a sentence?"

Willow smiled, "You lack a guy."

"I do. Which is fine with me, most of the time, but. . ."

"What about Spike?"

"Spike? I can just see him in a relationship. 'Hi, honey, you're in grave danger. I'll see you next month. Plus that scar he's got, he told me his ex gave it to him. Doesn't really make him sound like good boyfriend material."

"He's not around much, it's true."

"When he is around. . . " Buffy began, dreamily, "it's like the lights dim everywhere else. You know how it's like that with some guys?"

"Oh, yeah!" said Willow as she looked over to watch Xander dancing.

After a brief confrontation with Cordelia, Xander made his way over to the two daydreaming girls.

"Boy, that Cordelia is a regular breath of vile air. What are you vixens up to?" he asked.

"Just sitting here, watching our barren lives pass us by," said Willow, "Oh, look, a cockroach."

Buffy lifted her eyes to look but then started staring at the table again.

"Whoa, well, let's stop this crazy whirligig of fun! I'm dizzy!" Xander said.

"Alright, now I'm infecting those nearest and dear to me. I'm gonna call it a night," said Buffy, getting up.

"Oh, don't go." said Willow

"Uh, yeah! It's early! We could, um, dance," offered Xander

"Rain check? Good night." Buffy said, as she left.

Buffy made her way out of the Bronze looking bummed. As she passed the stairs she didn't notice Spike watching her go. For a moment she thought she sensed something and turned to look right where he had been, but no one was there. So she headed home.

As she walked home she felt like someone was watching. She looked behind her, but again nothing was there. As she walked passed an alley however, she heard a noise.

"It's late, I'm tired, and I don't wanna play games. Show yourself," Buffy told the shadows.

A vampire roared and dropped down onto the sidewalk behind her. She reached into her coat pocket to pull out a stake, spinning so as to face her attacker, but another vampire appeared and grabbed her arm.

"Wuh!" she cried out, surprised.

A third vampire came out of the alley and grabbed her other arm.

"Ooo! Okay, okay, nice. . ." Buffy started.

They pulled her into the alley and up against a fence. The first one approached her menacingly.

"Okay, okay. . ." Buffy said, "Look, I really don't wanna fight all three of you. . . unless I have to."

With that she kicked him in the crotch, elbowed the third, and tried to punch the second. He blocked her swing and thrust his knee into her gut, slamming her into the fence. The other two recovered and grabbed her again.

The second one slowly approached her. The look in his eyes scared Buffy and she struggled to get away. But the vampire came up to Buffy, grabbed her head and moved in to bite.

Just when she thought she'd had it, Spike appeared behind him, grabbed him by the hair and pulled him off of her.

"Three against one, not the best of odds Slayer," Spike said punching the vampire he'd grabbed.

Buffy ignored him. Instead she used the two vampires holding onto her arms as support, she kicked up with both feet and hits them both in the face. One of them grabbed her again and held her against the fence while Spike continued to fight the other two.

Then one of them pulled a piece of iron bar off of a window.

"Look out!" Buffy warned.

Spike turned around, only to be sliced in the chest with the bar.

Buffy shoved an open palm into her assailant's chin, pushing him off of her, punched him once in the gut and then slammed both fists into his head. Spike was bent over in pain and was about to be stabbed again. Buffy quickly kicked his attacker in the face, and he fell back away from Spike.

"Run!" Buffy ordered, as she helped Spike to his feet. She lead him to her house, the three vampires still chasing them. "Get in! C'mon!" she said as she opened the door.

She rushed inside, Spike right behind her. Buffy slammed the door on one of the vampire's hands. He struggled a moment then pulled his hand back out. She shut the door and locked it. The vampire looked in through the glass while another one looked in through the window.

"It's alright. A vampire can't come in unless it's invited." Spike said.

"I've heard that before, but I've never put it to the test." She leaned on the door then she noticed his wound. "Oh. . . I'll go get some bandages, just. . . take your coat and your shirt off."

He followed her into the kitchen and took off his duster and t-shirt. Oh wow, thought Buffy. That's a nice chest. That's a really nice chest. She was terrified that she was blushing as she brought the first aid kit over, after all, if she bandaged him up she would be touching him.

"I was lucky you came along. How did you happen to come along?"

"I was following you."

"Stalker much? Not that I didn't have a feeling you were. So why where you following me?"

Before he could answer, Buffy heard the front door open. She quickly went to intercept her mother, and check on the three vampires they had left outside. She pulled her mom into the house.

"Hi. What are you doing?" asked her mother

"There's a lot of weird people outside at night. . ." Her mother started toward the kitchen, Buffy tried to slow her down. ". . .I just feel better with you safe and sound inside. You must be beat.

"I am. We're a little gallery. You have no idea how much-"

Buffy interrupted, "Well, then why don't you go upstairs and get into bed, and I can bring you some hot tea?"

"That's sweet," then she looked at her daughter suspiciously, "What'd you do?"

"Can't a daughter just be concerned about her mother?"

Spike entered behind Buffy. "Joyce?" he asked.

"Spike? What are you doing here?" Joyce asked.

"Joyce, I had no idea you had a daughter. Though I certainly see that she takes after you. I'm a tutor, I've been helping Buffy with her history."

"Really, that's wonderful. It's not Buffy's strongest subject."

"Um, how do you guys know each other?" Buffy asked.

"Spike comes by the gallery just before closing all the time. He knows a remarkable amount about native art for a college student. Well since you are here can I get you something? Some hot chocolate?"

That was the point at which Buffy's mind just stopped working. Her mother was making hot chocolate for Spike? Her mom liked Spike? Spike was the ultimate, guy you don't bring home to meet your mom, yet her mom seemed to really like him. She even gave him little marshmallows when he asked for them.

For about half an hour her mom and Spike discussed the gallery's newest collection. Then her mom said, "Oh dear. I've used up all your studying time. I'm gonna go to bed, and, uh, Buffy?"

"I'll say good night and do the same," Buffy answered as her mother started up the stairs.

"It was nice to see you again. I'm glad to know that Buffy has someone helping her with her history."

After her mom went up stairs, Buffy held open the door and said, "Good night! We'll hook up soon and do that study thing."

She closed the door which Spike had been standing behind, and they both quietly walked up the stairs to Buffy's room.

"Look, Slayer, I don't want to fall out of your mom's good graces," then he added as an after thought, "or get you in any trouble. . ."

"And I don't wanna get you dead. They could still be out there. Although what's with the thing with my mom?"

"Figured I'd be bound to run into her sooner or later. So I thought I'd set myself up with a nice cover story about being an art history student at UC Sunnydale. Would you rather I didn't get along with your mum?"

"No, it's just. . . creepy." Buffy moved in front of her bed and started at it. "So, uh. . . two of us, one bed. That doesn't work," she looked at him, "Um, why don't you take the bed? Y'know, you're wounded. . ."

"I'll take the floor."

"Uh, no, that's not. . ."

"Trust me Slayer," he smiled and said, "I've had worse."

"Okay. Um, then why don't you check and see if the Fang Gang is still loitering and, um, keep your back turned while I change?"

Spike went over to the window to look while Buffy changed. "I don't see them," he said.

"Y'know, I'm the Chosen One, it's my job to fight guys like that. What's your excuse?"

"I have really bad taste in women." Buffy was glad he couldn't see her wince right then. Not that he'd given her any real reason to think that he was interested in her, other than the stalking.

"Like the ex who marked the spot?"

"Yeah, she's a real loon that one."

"I'm not sure how that all leads to fighting the forces of darkness."

"It's a long story, started when a bitchy brunette broke my heart. I ran into a dark alley and met another pretty brunette of the undead variety. . ."

"And you got away, and couldn't stop trying to fight the bad things in the night." she finished, as she turned around and placed a hand on his shoulder so he would know that it was all right for him to turn around.

He just looked at her for several minutes. She could see the conflict rolling through his eyes, she didn't speak, didn't move, afraid to scare him out of whatever it was he was thinking of telling her.

"I didn't," he said at last.

"Didn't fight?"

"Didn't get away."

"That's silly. She was a vamp right? She would have killed you. That's what they do."

He took her hands in his, and sat her down on the bed, then he kneeled in front of her, looking her in the eyes. "I didn't live," He took her right hand and placed it over his heart.

"No," she whispered. His hands were so cold. She couldn't feel a heart beat. He wasn't breathing. His skin was so pale. How could she not have noticed all this before she wondered? Maybe he'd just been turned. She hadn't seen him in a few days. And yet he looked at her with those blue eyes, and he didn't seem evil, or dead. Instead he looked scared and hurt. "When did this happen?" She knew she should be reaching for a stake, or the cross she kept under her pillow.

"About 120 years ago, give or take."

"Do I have to kill you now?" It seemed such a stupid thing to say, but she didn't understand any of this. He didn't look threatening. He could have easily killed her before now. Instead he was helping her. And why was he telling her this? She felt so stupid for not knowing, but obviously she'd been too blinded by his good looks, if he'd kept quiet she might never have known.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't, Slayer. I'm not going to hurt you, or anyone else human."

"That. . . You don't make any sense. You can't be a vampire. Vampires attack people, eat them. They don't sit and have conversations and they certainly don't sit in your kitchen and have hot chocolate with your mom."

He put his hand on her face, and leaned in to kiss her. She knew she should back up, that she should pull away. But she couldn't. She had wanted this too many times and she still couldn't accept that he was a vampire.

His lips brushed hers. Without thinking she leaned in to his kiss and closed her eyes. His lips trapped her lower lip for a minute. Then she found herself opening her mouth so that her tongue could taste him. Her tongue ran over his satiny bottom lip, then his tongue was inside her mouth exploring her. Her hands went to his face, her tongue slipped into his mouth and he sucked on it drawing her deeper in.

Suddenly he pulled back away from her, "Sorry, I didn't mean to take that quite so far. I just needed a way to coax the demon out."

Confused, and desperate to get back to the kissing she opened her eyes and found herself staring not into blue eyes, but gold.

She jerked backward grabbing the cross from behind her and held it in front of her. He flinched and backed up.

"I'll just be going then," he said turning toward the window.

He really was a vampire, she thought. I've just been kissed by a vampire. I've just had the most amazing kiss of my life, and it was a vampire. None of it made any sense.

"Stop. You're not leaving until you explain what's going on. Or is your master plan to confuse me to death."

He turned back. He shook his head and the bumps, the fangs, and the golden eyes were gone. "Remember when I said I had bad taste in women?" she nodded, "A hundred years ago I decided to have a gypsy girl for a snack. Her clan got real angry about it, and they cursed me. Gave me back my soul."

Buffy's eyes went wide. "I'm not sure how that's curse."

"Before the soul, I was like any other vampire. I existed for the bloodshed, the pain, the violence. Loved it, exalted in it. I know, I remember every moment, every victim, every scream. And I care. That's my curse Slayer."

She stood up and put her hand on his face this time. She turned his head so that he was forced to look her in the eye. Studying him like this she understood. She understood why she hadn't realized he was a vampire. It wasn't his good looks that had distracted her, it was his eyes. The soul that resided behind them was plain to see.

She turned her back on him, pulled the comforter off the top of the bed, and handed it to him. "Here. Sleep tight." she said.

"Slayer, you don't un-" she put her hands to his lips to silence him.

"I do. You've done bad things, I get that. But if you were evil, I would have known. I'm the Slayer remember. Since I arrived in this town I've had nothing but dreams warning me of the Master. I'm going to have to fight him sooner or later. But I haven't had a single dream about you, and right now, you seem like the best person to help me defeat him. So I'm not sending you outside to get killed by those three vampires, and I'm not staking you myself. So go to sleep okay?"

He nodded, looking at her amazed. Then he lay down on the floor with the comforter.

She got into bed and turned off the light. "Spike?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you snore?"

"Don't know. You're just going to have to find out the hard way."

"He spent the night? In your room? In your bed?" Xander asked appalled as they sat around the table in the library.

"Not IN my bed, BY my bed." Buffy said.

"That is so romantic," Willow said, "Did you, uh. . . I mean, did he, uh. . ."

"There was a. . . uh good night kiss but still he was a perfect gentleman."

The two girls smiled at each other.

"Buffy, c'mon, wake up and smell the seduction. It's the oldest trick in the book," Xander said.

Buffy squirmed a little. Her mind couldn't help but wonder if the whole thing was a way to get her to trust him enough that he could bite her. But every other part of her said that she could trust him. And she did. After all, he could have killed her in her sleep last night. That's why she didn't need to tell anyone about the part where he was a vampire. They just wouldn't understand him. Not like she did.

"What? Saving my life? Getting slashed in the ribs?" Buffy asked.

"Duh! I mean, guys'll do anything to impress a girl. I-I once drank an entire gallon of Gatorade without taking a breath," Xander said triumphantly.

"It was pretty impressive," Willow concurred, "Although later there was an ick factor."

Giles approached the library table, "Can we steer this riveting conversation back to the events that happened earlier in the evening? You left the Bronze and were set upon by three unusually virile vampires." He picked up a book and showed her an open page. "Did they look like this?"

"Yeah. What's with the uniforms?"

"It seems you encountered the Three." Giles explained, "Warrior vampires, very proud and very strong."

"How is it you always know this stuff?" Willow asked Giles, "You always know what's going on. I never know what's going on."

"Well, you weren't here from midnight until six researching it."

"No, I was sleeping," admitted Willow.

"Uh, o-obviously you're hurting the Master very much. He, he wouldn't send the, the Three for just anyone. We must step up our training with weapons," Giles said

Xander jumped in, "Buffy, you should stay at my house until these Samurai guys are history."

Buffy looked at him. "What?"

"And, don't worry about Spike," Xander continued, "Willow can run to your house and tell him to get out of town fast."

"Spike and Buffy are, are not in any immediate jeopardy," Giles cut in, "Eventually the Master will send someone else, but in the mean time the Three, having failed, will offer their own lives in penance."

**********************

Anxiously he waited for the sun to go down. He had to get out of here. Soon Buffy would return. What had he been thinking last night? Why couldn't he keep up the pretense? Why couldn't he continue lying to her? Or at least if he was going to tell her the truth, he should have told her the whole truth.

She would find out anyway. She probably already knew. She would go to her Watcher tell him all about the vampire with a soul and he would look it up in his books. Spike knew what he would find. Nothing about a vampire with a soul, only William the Bloody who had killed two Slayers in the last century.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even notice when she returned.

"Spike?"

"Slayer," she didn't look angry. Didn't look like she was about to kill him. Did she not tell her Watcher? Did she really trust him that much? His heart leapt at the thought, until he reminded himself that Nikki had also trusted him, and look where it got her.

"So, What'd you do all day?"

"I read a little," he said. She looked over at her vanity and spotted her diary. "Look, Slayer, there's something I still need to tell-"

"My diary? You read my diary?" She picked it up and put it in a drawer. "That is NOT okay! A diary is like a person's most private place! I. . . You don't even know what I was writing about! 'Hottie' can mean a lot of things, bad things. And, and when it says that your eyes are 'penetrating', I meant to write 'bulging'."

"Buffy-" he was trying not to smile. She was awfully cute when she was angry.

"And 'S' doesn't even stand for 'Spike' for that matter, it stands for. . . 'Sven', a charming foreign exchange student, so that whole fantasy part has nothing to even do with you at all. . ."

"Your mother moved your diary when she came in to straighten up. I watched from the closet. I didn't read it, I swear." Although he was starting to wish he had.

She looked at him for a moment, then looked down embarrassed, "Oh! Oh."

"Look, I should never have kissed you last night."

"What? Why not? Wasn't it. . . nice?"

He smiled at her. It was things like this that reminded him that however fast the Slayer might have had to grow up, she was still very young. "It was perfect."

"Then why. . ?"

"For starters, I'm old enough to be your ancestor. Not to mention you Slayer, me vampire, that can't end well."

"How do you know? I bet I'd be the first Slayer to date a vampire . . . not that. . . I mean when I say date. . ."

"I do know. You're not the first Slayer I've ever run across."

"So you're what a groupie?"

He was going to do this. He was going to tell her. "She's dead. I k-"

"Well yeah! Obviously! I'm the Chosen One remember? One Slayer dies, another's called. How. . . how long ago was this?"

"About twenty years ago. She-"

"So, she died, it's what Slayers do. I mean I don't know the history or anything, but I'm pretty sure there have never been any forty year old Slayers."

"That's not the point. I'm th-" She threw herself at him. She wrapped her arms around him and silenced him with a kiss. It was sloppy at first, really more of a smooshing than a smooching. But then her tongue darted out, seeking to pry open his lips and he couldn't deny her. She tasted just as sweet as she had the night before. He was completely lost in her.

It was Buffy who ended the kiss when she was forced to breathe.

"If we weren't who we are would you, would you be interested in me?"

"Yes. But we are who we are, Slayer."

"I have a name you know, Buffy. But yeah, I am the Slayer. So I don't get to have what other people get. This isn't normal, I grant you, but normal isn't part of a Slayer's life. I could die any day. Shouldn't I get a chance to be happy while I can?"

He brushed a lock of her hair out of her face, and looked at her. So young, so eager, so full of life. And she was right, that life was going to be short, if Malcolm was right, she had only two months to live. Could it really be wrong to try and make her happy, try and make her life easier for the little time she had left. "You been working on that all day?"

"Since last night actually."

"It's only fair I tell you, I wasn't planning on staying. When the Master is dead, I was planning on leaving Sunnydale."

"Well, who knows when that will be? After all, the Master's been alive for centuries. I'm willing to risk it."

He kissed her gently on the lips, pulling away before she could make it more. "I should get going. You still willing to train with me?"

"Yeah, Thursday night. I'll see you then?"

He nodded, and made his way out her window, so as not to let her mother know he'd been there all day.

He made his way home, unlocked the door to his apartment and went inside. He reached over to turn on a lamp, then he stopped and straightened up, sensing he was not alone.

"Who's here?" he asked.

"A friend," said a woman's voice.

He turned to face the voice, and lit a cigarette as he looked over the small blond woman in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform. Darla.

"Hi. It's been a while," Darla said as if they had been old friends.

"Hi? That's what you got to say after all this time? I'll be the first to admit I deserved the torture. But you left me out in the sun to burn."

"You got over it. You got away. Besides, we were doing you a kindness. Or are you having fun with that soul of yours? Look at you, you're living above ground, like one of them. You and your new friend are attacking us, like one of them. But guess what, precious? You're not one of them. . ."

She reached into a the pocket of her sweater with a handkerchief, and threw something at him. Instinctively he caught it. Then cried out in pain as he dropped the small cross.

". . Are you?" she finished.

"No. But I'm not exactly one of you either."

She walked over to the fridge, "Is that what you tell yourself these days?" She opened it and looked at the jars of pig's blood. "You're not exactly living off quiche." She closed the refrigerator door. "You and I both know what you hunger for. What you need. Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's who we are. It's what makes eternal life worth living. And you got such a brief taste of that. Only. . . what was it twenty years? But you can only suppress your real nature for so long. China proved that. You know, you broke poor, mad Drusilla's little heart."

"She broke mine," he whispered.

"Always the suffering poet. Tell me, does she find it poetic? A vampire with a soul. Does she think it romantic how you drained that Slayer in China. Does she think you'll come rushing to her aid like New York?" He looked away from her. "Oh yes, I know all about that too. Angelus told me. I wonder what he would think if he knew you had a new Slayer?" she perked up and clapped her hands together as if she had a wonderful idea, "Maybe we should tell him?" She gave him a sweet smile.

Mad with fear and rage, he roared as demonic features covered his face. He rushed the length of the room towards her, but she side stepped him coming around behind him and knocking him to the ground. As he hit the floor, she planted her foot in his back. The older vampire was able to hold him to the ground.

"I'm not afraid of you. I bet she is, though," Darla said.

"You think I didn't tell her? She knows all of it."

"Does she now. Hmm, maybe you did. But I bet she doesn't really trust you. You were one of us. You really did have potential you know. Taking that gypsy girl knowing exactly . . . well none of us knew exactly what would happen. But you knew what I would do didn't you. Actually, now that I think of it, I should really thank you for that, shouldn't I William? It could have been Angelus," she paused smiling, "When she turns on you, you know where to find us William." With that she gave him one good kick to the ribs, and left.

Chapter 8:

Darla stood before the Master. "Don't think I'm not grateful, you letting me kill the Three."

"How can my children learn if I do everything for them?"

"But you must let me take care of the Slayer."

"Oh! You're giving me orders now!"

"Okay, then, we'll just do nothing while she takes us out one by one."

"Do I sense a plan, Darla? Share..."

"Spike kills her and comes back to the fold."

The Master considered this, "It is true the boy bears our blood. Do you think he can be brought back? And yet why would he kill her if he feels for her?"

"To keep her from killing him. His desire to live is strong. We tied him to the ground and left him for the sun when the gypsies cursed him with that foul soul, and still he lived. He killed the Slayer in China for Drusilla. He'll kill this one for himself."

The Master turned to the boy vampire that sat at his feet, "Hmm. You see how we all work together for the common good? That's how a family is supposed to function!"

In the midst of all the chaos no one paid any attention to the pale Englishmen who rushed through the crowd searching for someone.

He was so close he could feel her. His dark princess, his love, his salvation. He knew that if he could just find her, get her away from the others, she could help him. He had seen her lure others into sure death with her eyes and her voice. Seen her make them believe she was their loved ones. He would look into her eyes, and she would make him better. Make all the pain go away.

He was sure of it. It was the only thought he'd held in his mind for the last two years. Ever since the gypsies who had cursed him, had freed him from where the others had tied him down and left him for the sun. Ever since he had crawled into the Romanian woods, still weak from the beating given him by Darla, and the torture visited upon him by Angelus, all for stealing his gift.

He heard a woman scream. A scream was nothing special on this night, but he knew that scream, knew it was her.

He took off at a run. Using every bit of speed he had as a vampire. In moments he found her. For a few seconds all he could do was watch. There she was, as beautiful as ever, with her golden eyes flashing in the moonlight. She cradled her left arm which had been cut, and snarled at her attacker.

Spike never wondered who she might be. This Chinese girl who calmly stood and faced a vampire, sword in hand. If he had thought about it at all, he would have assumed that she was one of the Boxers. But he didn't, all he knew was that he had found Drusilla at last, and this woman was threatening her.

He leapt snarling at the Chinese girl, grabbing for her sword. At the last moment she turned it, raising it against him. It was too late for him to change his momentum, so instead he forced himself onto the blade, feeling it bite deep into his side. Pain ripped through him, but he had become used to worse over the last two years. He twisted his body before she could pull the sword back out and disarmed her.

Startled the girl spun in the air, kicking him in the face, and throwing him to the ground. But he didn't care. 'Now she's safe,' he thought, 'she can't hurt Dru now.' Indeed, in the back ground he was aware of Dru calling to him in her sing-song voice, "Is it him? Is it my knight. Has my sweet William come back to me?"

But the girl didn't run. She didn't leave; instead she pulled a wooden stake from her belt and raised it toward him. For a moment, his thoughts connected into one word, Slayer, but then she was advancing on him, about to end his existence before killing his love. He fell backward away from the blow, kicking his feet out to trip her up.

She fell and he scrambled on top of her, ignoring the pain as the sword was driven deeper into his gut, the demon driven closer to the surface. He struggled to hold her down as she tried desperately to get back up. Somewhere behind him Dru was chanting, "Kill her my William. Kill her for me. Kill her for princess."

Then she saw her stake out of the corner of her eye, desperately reached for it, and in that moment he had her. His fangs sank into her neck.

It was like nothing he'd ever tasted. Her blood flowed hot down his throat and he thought that his heart might start beating from the force of it. Power and strength flowed into him. Her heart beat thumped in his ears, loud and strong, then weaker and weaker.

And suddenly he knew, knew he was killing her. From somewhere deep down inside he screamed, pulling away in horror from his victim. This poor young girl he had killed. "No, no, no, no," he began to cry as he pulled away from the body.

But she wasn't dead yet. Her lips moved and a few silent words in Chinese fell from them like her blood in the dust.

"I'm so, so sorry. I don't speak Chinese." If only he knew what she had said. Somehow he could make it right then, but he had no idea what the words meant.

Then from above him he heard a scream of rage. "NO! It's not my William. Horrid thing, you took my William and gave him to the rats." Drusilla was standing over him, her eyes burning with fury. She grabbed the handle of the sword that was still sheathed inside of him, and pulled hard, drawing it out.

She held it in front of her, as if she were afraid of him. She swiped at his head, two blows in quick succession. He pulled back, but the tip of the sword still cut him above the eye in two quick strokes. The cross shaped wound burned him. And that was when he knew. Knew that whatever else he was, he could never be what he used to be. She would never take him back.

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