It wasn't my idea. This leaving the Niblet. Giles seems to have pushed it - and I'm really not sure why. So, Buffy and I are patrolling together again. We haven't spoken about it, but we both seem to have decided to stay close to the Magic Box.

We all went to see the doctor earlier. He took all the blood samples and so on that he needed. Except from Dawn. We've got to wait a bit longer before he'll risk taking a sample from her. Did a range of tests on us - reaction speed, strength and whatever. Said what he did last time wasn't enough. Included Dawn in a few, but he mainly concentrated on those of us who aren't human. Didn't say much, either, but I could tell he was excited. His heart rate increased noticeably whenever we did something that gave results off his scale.

After the visit to the doctor, we came to the Magic Box. It had closed by then, and Anya was looking flushed and happy. Surprisingly, Xander took a day off work to help out. And, the way he and Anya kept looking at each other, I wouldn't be surprised to notice a certain mingling of scents again soon. Maybe even after tonight.

Giles insisted we head out to patrol. Said he was worried about the fact that Buffy'd been patrolling alone, and that now we had a system to keep Dawn safe at the Magic Box, she didn't have to. I argued, and so did Buffy, but, somehow, we got outvoted. Still not sure how it happened. Almost suspected the witch was up to something, but there wasn't any sign.

So, we're out together. Buffy's not comfortable. But then, neither am I. I've avoided being alone with her since the kiss. Thing is, it's already too late. I'm like an addict. Before I kissed her the other night, I could persuade myself that I didn't need to touch her - that I could get by with being friends. One kiss, and everything's changed. I'm aware of everything about her. Every hitch in her breathing, every increase in heart rate - I feel them all, and they're echoed in my own body. I hardly feel I can trust myself to keep my hands off her.

Patrol is routine, nothing either of us would have had a problem with alone. Still, I'd rather go through the agony of not being able to touch her than worry about her patrolling alone. I can't help but imagine all sorts of things happening to her while I'm not there to protect her.

"Spike," Buffy starts, uncertainly. I knew something was bothering her, and it looks like I'm about to find out what. I look straight at her so she knows she has my attention.

"About the other night," she manages before I interrupt.

"It's ok, Pet," I tell her. "I won't do it again. You were just kissing me to say thanks, and I nearly took advantage of it. I won't do it again, I promise." It's a promise I'm not even sure I can keep.

"Please, don't," she whispers, and I notice she seems to be shivering slightly.

"Don't what?"

"Promise you won't do it again. It wasn't gratitude. Well, it was, but it wasn't just gratitude. I …. I love you Spike. I kissed you because I love you."

She's looking at me, desperate for some acknowledgement.

I'm shaking my head, and she's starting to look tearful.

"Don't, Buffy Love. Please don't. You've got so much on right now, it's hardly surprising you're grasping at any support you can get. But you don't have to. I'm with you anyway."

"I know that, Spike, and it's not just that."

I pause, remembering another night. "It's because of what they did to you, to us. Changing us. Making us the same. I told you once, I was the only one there for you. Remember?"

She nods.

"That's what you're thinking now. There was a time when I'd have taken anything you offered me, didn't matter why. Hell, it's exactly what I did. I took what I could get on any terms. But I can't, not now. You think you love me because you don't think a human could. But you're so wrong, Buffy. Any man in his right mind will love you. Love you because of your strength, your courage, your … soul. And that's only scratching the surface. But I can't be the consolation prize any more. I can't Buffy. I just can't. 'Cos it wouldn't last. Everything'd be fine until you meet someone else - someone who hasn't been dead for a century. Someone who could love you with a clear conscience. Someone who'd deserve you. And then, well, you know what I'm capable of, and I can't risk it." My words sound bitter, even to my own ears.

"How dare you?" she whispers. "Where do you get off telling me how I feel? I suppose I should be used to it by now. You've been telling me for long enough. Telling me I cared for you the night you chained me up and offered to kill Drusilla for me. Now you're telling me it's just because I'm confused. Because I need you to help me keep Dawn safe. Because I think so little of my new demon status that I'd settle for you because I can't do better. Well, from what Giles said the other day, looking after Dawn's only a short term job. Because there isn't going to be a Dawn soon."

Her voice was breaking as she said that last bit. I want to hold her so much. My own voice is unsteady as I reply. "We'll find something. We've still got time, Buffy."

I didn't intend to do it, but I've come closer to her, and I'm holding my arms out to her, and she's moving into them, burying her head in my shirt and sobbing.

"You're wrong, Spike," she insists when her sobs have faded. "I mean, I do need you to help me keep Dawn safe, and I am grateful for what you've done for us, but that's not the whole story. I. Love. You. And you're right. I know what you're capable of. You're capable of loving me more than anyone deserves. More than I deserve. But, I can understand if you don't love me, or don't trust me. There're good reasons why you shouldn't trust me. I know that. All I'm saying is, give me a chance to prove it's real."

"Buffy, of course I bloody love you. It's because I love you that I can't let this go wrong again. Even now, you don't know how hard it is for me to hold you like this, and not kiss you. But if I kissed you, then it would be almost impossible not to undress you, make love to you. And I can't believe that's what you really want."

I step back, purposefully, showing her I can still control myself, but it's the hardest thing I've ever done. She's just told me she loves me. It's what I've wanted to hear for so long, dreamed about hearing, but I can't listen. I can't take it at face value. Having her and losing her, that way lies madness.

We're close to my old crypt, and I'm on the verge of suggesting we should call in and see Clem - anything to add another person to the explosive combination that is us, when we feel it. Dawn's afraid. How can that be? There's been no alarm at the Magic Box, unless … unless the assailant's human.

We share a look, and see understanding mirrored between us before we start to move. We're evenly matched, neither of us with an advantage as we run. It took us a while to reach this point, but we didn't walk in a straight line. Now, we take the most direct route back, but it seems to take forever.

At last, the Magic Box is in sight, and I pull open the door, and immediately run into a barrier. It's like the barrier before a vampire is invited into someone's home. It's the protection spell Willow performed, it must be, but it's gone wrong somehow. Or, it's been changed. I can see inside perfectly. Buffy's here, and she's hit the barrier too. We squeeze together in the doorway, and we see Giles and Anya, and Willow and Dawn. Somehow, Giles and Anya have been immobilised, they're still, but their eyes show their anguish. Willow's different. Like something from a nightmare. She's dark, her hair, and her eyes. The darkness has taken her again, and she's holding Dawn, her arms around her.

Dawn's eyes are begging me to do something, anything. I look at her, and feel a failure all over again. Willow’s eyes glitter with malevolence, and I feel my heart constrict. She utters some words, aiming them at Dawn, but there’s no result. Willow’s face contorts, frustration etching her face, and she repeats her actions.

Somehow, I wrench my eyes away from Dawn to Giles. His expression has changed. It’s looking hopeful, and I realise there’s something else going on. Willow howls in frustration, growling at Giles. "What have you done?"

I don't know whether or not Giles can answer in his current state, but she doesn't wait.

"There's more than one way to do it," she threatens, and puts her hands around Dawn’s neck, using her body to do what her magic will not. She screams in frustration as her hands refuse to do her will. That surprises me, until I see a wavering in her hair, and realise that the red is trying to shine through. Whatever's taken over Willow is having to fight to do it. She could have killed Dawn with magic, but something stopped her. Using her own hands to do it, though, seems to have reawakened her humanity, her … soul?

With strength which must be magically enhanced, she lifts Dawn over her shoulder, and with a glance at the door, heads for the basement.

This is my chance. Our chance. I know the tunnels better than any demon in Sunnydale, and a hell of a lot better than any human. I grab Buffy’s arm, and run for the nearest man hole. There’s no time for discussion, Dawn’s fear which dissipated a bit when the spell didn’t work, is growing again.

Once underground, I pause, getting the direction clear in my head before we start to run.

Ordinarily, there’s no way a human could outrun Buffy and me. But, Willow’s no ordinary human right now. All we can hope to do is follow.

I’m leading, trusting my sense of Dawn’s direction better than Buffy does hers, but it’s obvious that she’s improving all the time. She nods beside me as I turn right at a junction, agreeing that I’ve made the right choice.

It’s times like these that I'd give a lot to be a vampire again. It’s all very well, but only creatures that don't need oxygen can run at the limit of their ability without becoming breathless. And, apart from the short respite outside the Magic Box, that’s what Buffy and I have been doing for half an hour now.

The tunnel we’re in now is a long one, with no intersections for a couple of miles, so I’m giving some thought to where we are. Fortunately, I’ve got a good sense of direction, and it’s not fooled by being underground. I think that last bit’s a vampire thing. I realise we’re heading south, away from the centre of Sunnydale, and the University. The more I think, I realise there’s not actually much in that direction at all. It’s just suburban streets that fade into woodland.

I’m wracking my brains to think of where we could be heading. The tunnel opens out in the woods, just south of the last homes. Once outside, I pull Buffy to a halt beside me, and we’re both breathing heavily. We’ve got to be careful now. Following Dawn through tunnels is one thing. There’s only a limited number of directions after all. Now we’re in open ground, there’s much more opportunity to be fooled.

I point to my right, and Buffy nods her agreement. We set off again, slower now, needing to avoid tree roots which mar the narrow passageways between the trees.

This is part of Sunnydale that’s new to me. I don’t know it at all. Never had much time for woodland when I was a vamp. If I ever fancied being in touch with nature, I’d pick the ocean every time.

I realise we must have made ground, because the feeling of Dawn is closer, and when I take a deep breath I can smell her too. I put an arm out to Buffy to slow her further, and I know she’s noticed it too. We walk, and spot a small cottage ahead. Well, cottage is too grand a word. Shed? Bigger. There's a rainwater butt outside, and a picnic blanket airing under the eaves. It has an air of domesticity and innocence. I know Dawn’s inside, and I leave Buffy in front of the door that’s visible at the front while I circle round to see if there’s another exit. We’re in luck, there’s only one door, and all but one of the windows are on that side too.

I’m just gesturing to Buffy to suggest we try the door, when there’s a scream, and a roar from inside the house, followed by the unmistakable glow of flames from within.

I run forward, and yank the door open. I barely register anything about the interior beyond the line of fire that’s separating me from Dawn. Somehow, whether by magical or mundane methods, Willow’s set fire to a line right across the cabin. She’s let Dawn go now, and she’s looking strangely triumphant, and peaceful? Dawn’s crying, sobbing, tears rolling down her cheeks. Buffy was beside me as I opened the door, but she's gone now, and I sense rather than see her at the single window beyond the flames. The smoke’s thick already, and I’m having to work at not coughing.

Willow has turned around, ignoring me, her attention fully on Buffy. She's holding Dawn again, threatening that if Buffy comes through the window, she'll push Dawn into the flames. I sense Buffy's hopelessness, and I try desperately to think of something to do.

I run outside again, and pull the blanket down. I dip it in the water butt, soaking it, before wrapping it around me. Without giving it further thought, I jump through the wall of flame, landing and rolling on the other side to extinguish the flames that lick at the blanket. One of my hands was holding the blanket in place, and was outside of its protection, and I notice the burns on it with curious detachment. I don’t even feel the pain.

Willow lets Dawn go, pushing her in the direction of the fire, but I dive to stop her momentum, and push her towards the window. With a howl of fury, Willow jumps at me, kicking and punching. There's no method to her fighting, it's like a child having a tantrum, lashing out without discipline, just trying to cause pain. Normally, I could hold Willow at arm's length easily, but not today. Whatever she's done to herself, she's a match for me in strength. Fortunately, she's not a match for me in fighting skills. She's never taken the time to learn, always relying on her magic to keep her safe.

I hear glass breaking, and wonder whether it's a side-effect of the fire, or if it's Buffy. I don't have time to look, as I duck to avoid being hit around the head. I knock Willow away, and use the second's respite to glance at Dawn, relieved to find her being helped through the window.

Willow grabs me again, but I don’t think I need as much oxygen as she does, because the smoke’s bothering me less that it is her. She’s coughing hard, convulsively, and she’s changing before my eyes. She’s paling, her hair returning to its normal red, and it’s obvious she’s weakening.

Willow’s sobbing now too. One word, repeated over and over. Tara. I realise she’s no longer trying to hurt me, just trying to get away, so I let her go, and she runs to the far side of the room, where she picks up something from a bed I hadn’t noticed. She’s hugging it, whatever it is, and then I realise what she’s planning. She’s walking directly towards the wall of flame that’s now too close to me, it’s heat painful, singeing my hair and eyebrows.

She’s already alight when I catch her, pulling her back, and rolling us in the discarded blanket to extinguish the flames. I carry her over to the window, handing her to a waiting Buffy before I manage to drag myself through. I collapse outside, unsure where my girls are, willing them to be safe, but knowing there’s no more I can do.

I’m clinging onto Buffy, and we’re watching the remains of the window where we got out of the inferno. I know Buffy’s hurt, her arms and hands cut from the glass, but neither of us can take our eyes off the opening, both of us willing Spike to come out. I know she's torn, wants to go back and make sure he's ok, but she's also scared for me - that there's something else waiting in the wood for me.

I’ve been so scared. Willow came in not long after Buffy and Spike left. At first, she seemed normal, well, sort of. She hasn’t really been normal since she got back. Not that I’ve paid too much attention to her anyway. After what happened before, I’ve got to say, she’s not been my favourite person.

I was sitting at the research table, trying to do my homework, and Giles was restocking the shelves while Anya counted the money. She waited until no one was watching, and the next thing I know, Giles and Anya can’t move. It was like they’d been paralysed, except they could still stand, and their eyes could look around.

Then, I saw she’d changed. She was dark again, and I screamed. She smiled, that awful smile I remembered from the last time she wanted to kill me. And I knew that’s what she wanted this time. Surprisingly, she didn’t just do it. She started with telling me how much she hated me. She told me that before I came, Buffy was her best friend. That they used to do things together. That they were closer than sisters. Then there was me, and Buffy needed to keep me safe. She wasn’t properly grateful for being brought back from the dead. She wouldn’t admit Willow’s power. Then when Tara died. Buffy didn’t want her to take revenge, wanted to stop her. Buffy and Giles ganged up on her to stop her last time. Sent her out of the country like an exile, so she could learn to be a good little witch. She said she was waiting for them to get there before she killed me. She wanted Buffy to see me die.

The tirade went on forever. Or it seemed that way. My attention was pulled away from Willow to the door which flew open, and there was Spike. I was so relieved to see him, but he didn't come in. It took me a moment to realise that it wasn't that he stopped, he just couldn’t come in. The look in his eyes when he realised there was nothing he could do was so sad, I felt my breath hitch, although that may have been pure terror.

Then, she grabbed me, and started to chant. I know she intended to kill me, but something happened. I don’t know why, but the spell didn’t work. She tried it again, and it still didn’t work. Then, she put her hands round my neck and tried to choke me. Somehow, she couldn’t do it. It wasn’t lack of strength, I know that. Maybe it was just getting too close to things. It’s one thing to kill someone with magic, another to do it with your bare hands.

She shrieked then, and picked me up, running for the basement. I don’t remember the journey through the tunnels, I really don’t. Just a blur, and jolting as she somehow carried me. I mean, I’m taller than she is, it can’t have been easy, and it certainly wasn’t comfortable.

She literally dropped me when we got to the cabin. I must have knocked my head, because I was out of it for a while. When I came to, I saw things around me that I recognised. Tara’s things. Clothes, a quilt, some other things I recognised from their room. Willow was chanting, and there was a line of sand across the single room, separating us from the door. I tried to stand, hoping to get away before she could stop me, but I was momentarily dizzy, and by the time I recovered, there was a wall of flame in front of me. The heat was tremendous, and Willow was grinning. Like she’d done something amazing.

The door opened then, and I saw them. My rescuers, but I thought they were too late. Then we heard Buffy breaking the glass of the one window our side of the flames. Willow threatened to burn me if Buffy came through. The next thing I knew, Spike was jumping through the flames wrapped in a blanket. Willow pushed me towards the flames, but Spike stopped me, redirecting me towards the window. Then she lunged for Spike, and I moved closer to the window, eventually managing to get out. Looking back in the window it wasn't possible to see them any more, the smoke was so thick.

Then the wait began. And it’s still going on. I want to go back, help him, but I know there’s nothing I can do. I’m scared he’s not coming out, and I know Buffy’s feeling the same. Her eyes haven’t left the window either.

Then there’s the noise, someone hitting the wall close to the opening, and Buffy scrambles to help. Spike hands Willow to Buffy. I don't know what's happened, but she's horribly burnt, and I can't take my eyes off her as Buffy carries her a safe distance from the cabin before putting her down on the ground. I look back to the cabin, and he's lying there, just outside, fallen where he dropped, and I see he's been burnt too. His hands, and arms are visible, and I start to cry again when I think of how much pain he must be in. Buffy runs towards him, picking him up and taking him away from the cabin.

I’m sitting beside him now. He’s not moving, and I’m wondering if he’s even alive. Thing about being a vampire, it’s pretty obvious. They’re either there or they’re dust. Kinda hard to miss. Buffy’s found her cell phone, and despite everything, it seems to be working. She dials a number, and there’s relief in her voice when Giles answers. She tells him what happened, and gives some indication of where we are, but it sounds kind of vague. I shout over that it’s where Willow was keeping Tara’s things, and that must mean something, because, after a short delay, the call ends.

Buffy calls 911 then, asking for an ambulance, and giving directions she must have had from Giles. Then she collapses beside me, and tries to take Spike’s hand. I gasp as I see Buffy's hands and arms properly. They're cut, hundreds of little cuts, many of them deep, which she must have had when she broke the glass. She changes her mind when she sees how badly burned his hand is, and she starts to murmur to him, telling his he’s safe, that everything’s going to be ok. I don’t know who she’s trying to reassure most.

Giles must have broken several speed limits, because he gets here before the ambulance, and he and Buffy carefully lift Spike into the back seat. He moans as they do that, and, although it’s a pain-filled sound, I’m relieved to hear it. At least he’s alive. Giles tells Buffy he’s asked Xander to come and take us home, but we’ve got to stay for the ambulance. He adds that Anya knew from Xander roughly where this place was.

"No, I’m coming with Spike," I tell him.

Dawn, you can’t. We need you here. You’re basically uninjured, aren’t you?"

I nod. A few bruises are nothing compared with Spike.

"Then, Buffy might need you when the ambulance comes for Willow. We don’t want her being forced into going to hospital, it’s too dangerous."

I can see his point, and I nod, but it just fuels the anger I already feel for Willow.

He drives away, and within minutes, the ambulance arrives, quickly followed by Xander. Buffy keeps out of sight while the crew load Willow, and Xander promises to go straight to the hospital after he’s taken me home.

We drive back to Revello Drive in silence. I’m filled with dread, scared that Spike might die before we can get back. I don’t want him to die, and certainly not alone, and without saying goodbye. That’s what Mom did, and, I couldn’t bear it if it happened again.

I race upstairs to find Giles and Clem in my old room, Spike, conscious but otherwise as I remember him, lying on my old bed. Giles is slowly feeding him blood through a straw. I wonder why he’s made no attempt to clean or dress his injuries. My expression must make my confusion obvious.

"Buffy, sit down. Dawn, will you see to your sister? She’s going to need some first aid too. Clem was kind enough to bring some blood when I asked. I thought it best to fortify him with some first, before I start to clean him up, because, frankly, I’m not sure he’ll be able to drink then. I’m amazed he’s conscious now."

I nod, then wince as Dawn starts to pull at my arm.

"You’ll have to come and get cleaned up," she tells me, pointing at my blouse meaningfully. She’s trying to tell me that I’m going to have to get undressed, and that I won’t want to do that here. The fact is that I don’t care what else happens, I just don’t want to leave Spike.

Giles spots my dilemma. "Go on, Buffy, I’m sure Spike will rest easier knowing you’ll be more comfortable."

I look at Spike for his agreement, but he’s staring at a spot on the ceiling, an unblinking stare that’s eerily like the stare of a corpse.

I reluctantly follow Dawn to the bathroom, where she strips off my clothes, and checks me over. I've got loads of cuts to my hands and arms. I remember struggling to break that window, doing it with my hands, unprotected in my frantic attempt to rescue Dawn. I hardly notice what she's doing - even when she applies antiseptic liberally, I don't notice the stinging that normally elicits a vocal complaint. Once I’m bandaged, Dawn takes me back to Spike, then leaves to return a moment later with a mug of blood for me.

"No," I refuse. "Save it for Spike, he needs it more than I do."

"He’s had enough for now. Clem managed a miracle looking at our fridge. There’s enough blood to keep a vampire going for weeks. Drink it."

I wonder when my sister became such a bully, but I’m in no state to argue, so I drink it. The first sniff is doubtful. I know I’ve done this before, but I don’t remember it too clearly. It doesn’t smell too bad. Not as bad as I remember when Angel or Spike were drinking it as part of their standard liquid diet. I take a sip, and it’s strangely tasty. I get the impression that the visual information is making this harder than it has to be, so I close my eyes, and drink it down.

Giles is working on Spike now. His hands, arms and chest are badly burned. Apart from his hair being singed and the distinct lack of eyebrows, his face is pretty much unscathed. I remember Willow. She didn't fare so well. There’s so much damage on his arms in particular that I don’t see how it can ever heal. He doesn’t make a sound. I realise he hasn’t – not since I arrived.

The phone rings, and Dawn gets up to answer it. When she returns, she’s tight-lipped with anger.

"That was Xander," she announced. "They’re treating Willow, but they’ve asked him to contact her parents. They’re not sure whether she’s going to make it."

I hear the news, and it makes no impression. She was my best friend. But, she tried to kill Dawn, end the world, and went away to get better. She came back, and tried to kill Dawn again. We trusted her, and she did it all over. I don’t think I want to see her again. By the looks of it, Dawn feels the same.

Giles’ face changes when he hears the news. His already sombre expression changes to something else, something more desperate, but he doesn’t speak.

At last, Giles finishes dressing the worst of Spike’s injuries, and stands up. Dawn’s immediately offering to get more blood, but Spike shakes his head once. It’s a tiny movement, but its meaning’s clear.

To my surprise, Giles pulls on his jacket and goes to leave.

"Where are you going?" I ask, confused.

"The hospital," he replies, as if its the most natural thing in the world.

"Why?" I’m genuinely bemused.

"Because I need to go. There are things I’ve got to do."

He doesn’t elaborate, and by the set of his face, I know he won’t say any more no matter how much I badger him.

"If you need me back here, just call," he promises, opening the door and heading downstairs.

And so begins my vigil. Clem leaves, and I tell Dawn to go to bed, and she eventually agrees. I sit in my old room, watching Spike on my old bed. He never once looks at me. He never once makes a sound. He doesn’t respond when I offer him blood.

He falls asleep at last, and I do too, waking with a start when he moves even slightly. It’s so different now. When Dawn was in the room, he watched her, following her around the room with his eyes. Now she’s gone, he’s back to staring at the ceiling. I want to hold him, tell him I love him, reassure myself that he’s still there, but I daren’t. I remember our conversation, was it only earlier this evening? I told him I love him, but he didn't believe me. Now, I don't know how he feels. Surely, if he still loves me, he could look at me? Has it all gone so easily? It can't be fear, can it? Fear that my comforting him would lead to something he's not ready for? I didn't doubt my feelings before, but seeing him now, when I don't know if he'll ever recover, it's scaring me beyond belief. I need him so much. And it's not just need because of Dawn, because of the things that are expected of me. I need him. The girl who happens to be the Slayer. I'd need him if I wasn't the Slayer. I'd need him is I was completely human.

Dawn’s back a few hours later, offering blood and food, and he nods to the offer of blood. It hurts me. He can’t even take me trying to look after him, but I’m not leaving. I’ve stood from this chair only to go and relieve myself since I sat here last night.

The phone rings again, and I pick it up.

"Buffy?" Giles begins.

"Yeah," I reply.

"How is he?"

"Do you care?"

My question is met with silence.

"I mean, you went running off to Willow."

"I did that because I had to. I had to see for myself how Willow was doing. If there’s any chance she might recover, I need to inform the coven she went to. They’ll have to remove her power now, there’s no way to avoid that, unless .."

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn't have to. He means unless she dies.

"Spike’s ... the same," I tell Giles. I know he’s listening, so I can’t say more.

"As is Willow," he says softly.

I sit there through that long day, thinking about what happened the previous day. I’m still not sure what happened at the Magic Box. Why didn’t Willow’s magic kill Dawn? I wonder if Giles knows, but decide I’ll ask him later. That cabin. It was filled with Tara’s things, Dawn said. Almost like a shrine. I wonder how long Willow’s been going there. Was it somewhere they shared when she was alive? I realise I haven’t been close to Willow for a long time. There was a time we shared everything. Now, she’s a stranger, and worse that a stranger.

I pull my mind back to the present, back to the man on the bed in front of me. He’s still refusing to look at me, and its breaking my heart. I’ve made such a mess of my life. I’ve thrown away the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. The love of a man who loved me unconditionally. The way parents are supposed to; the way my father didn’t. But, it was never the love of a parent. It was the love of a lover, of a partner for life. The love that’s passion and contentment, heat and stability. It’s the love I never thought I could have, the love I never expected.

As the day goes on, it becomes obvious that Spike’s going to be ok. His injuries are noticeably better than last night, although it's going to take some time. That knowledge was tempered with the fact that he can't look at me. I've tried to talk to him several times. I've offered him blood, food, just looked for some acknowledgement of my presence, but all that's happened is that his body tenses, and he winces in pain. My presence is giving him pain. I feel like I’ve won the greatest prize in the world, and lost it the same day.

After I blacked out outside the cabin, the next thing I knew, I was being carried. Every nerve in my body seemed to be on fire, every jolt a singular agony. I struggled to open my eyes, and found that when I did, it made no difference as I couldn’t focus on anything. I think I passed out again, because the next time I opened my eyes, I saw Giles, blurred at first, but becoming clear. My eyes quickly scanned the room, searching for my girls, but all I found was Clem.

"Buffy? Dawn?" I whispered. I tried to say it, but my throat was raw from inhaling the hot smoke, and that’s how it came out.

"They’re fine," Giles reassured me. "They’re staying with Willow until the ambulance comes, then Xander’s going to bring them here."

I felt the tension draining out of my body at that. 'They're fine.' Two words that mean the difference between Hell and ... something that isn’t.

"Can you manage some blood?" Giles is asking gently. I nod, deciding not to attempt speech again until I have to.

"Clem got you some A Neg. He said it used to be your favourite. Although, I’m not sure that still applies." Giles sounds like he’s trying to make polite conversation, and that’s something he’s never felt the need to do around me before.

He lifts a mug, complete with straw, towards my lips, and I drink it gratefully. Apart from the whole business of needing it to heal, the cool liquid on my scorched throat feels wonderful.

I manage to finish that mugful and I’m half way through my second when they arrive. I hear footsteps thundering up the stairs, and I wonder how it is that two girls whose every movement is normally so graceful can possibly sound like a herd of elephants.

They come in, and I turn my eyes so I can see they’re really ok. Dawn looks a little sooty, and she’s still pale, but she looks fine. Buffy’s not so good. She’s cut, her hands and arms cut to ribbons, but she doesn't seem aware of it.

Giles turns towards them and gives them instructions. "Buffy, sit down. Dawn, will you see to your sister? She’s going to need some first aid too. Clem was kind enough to bring some blood when I asked. I thought it best to fortify Spike with some first, before I start to clean him up, because, frankly, I’m not sure he’ll be able to drink then. I’m amazed he’s conscious now."

Dawn drags Buffy out of the room then, and I relax. Now I know they’re ok, the rest of it comes back. I almost did it again. I almost failed. She almost died because I didn’t listen to what my own common sense told me. I knew we shouldn’t have left her at the Magic Box, but I let myself be persuaded. I could kick myself, but I decide I'm in quite enough pain.

I finish the second mug of blood, and Giles starts to get me cleaned up. When I thought a few minutes ago that I was in enough pain, I was quite serious. Now, there’s more than enough. He’s being gentle, I know he is, but I can’t help but wince as he cuts what remains of my clothes off the worst of the burns.

Buffy comes back in with Dawn at her heels. She sits on a chair, looking towards me. I notice all this with peripheral vision only. Because there’s no way I want to look at her. I don’t want to see the look on her face that says I let her down. Again. I redouble my efforts not to react to Giles’ efforts to dress my burns. I watch Dawn some of the time. She’s smiling nervously at me, like she’s scared I’m not going to make it. Maybe I should tell her. I mean, that little bint who sent me back in the first place isn’t going to let a few burns spoil her plans, now is she? So, I suppose I’m just going to have to lie here and suffer.

I eventually realise where I am. It’s Buffy’s room. I didn’t recognise it at first, and I wonder why. It comes to me after a while. It’s barer than it used to be. The photos and whatnots are gone. Curtains’re different too. That’s why I didn’t recognise it. It's the place that launched a thousand fantasies, and I didn't even recognise it.

Giles finishes and heads off to see Willow. Buffy’s not happy about it, and she’s not shy about letting the Watcher know. He doesn’t take her objections too seriously though. I suppose he’s been dealing with her long enough to know how to do that.

She’s just watching me. I’m staring at the ceiling, trying not to notice that she’s here, and it’s taking its toll. I want to touch her, hold her. I’m aching to put my arms around her, but that’s past. I can feel pain radiating from her, and I know I’m responsible. I let her down again, and she must be hating me for it. Ha! She’d better form an orderly queue behind me, ‘cos I’m hating myself too.

I almost thought I could do it. I thought, maybe, if I could keep Dawn safe, I’d start to deserve her. It would atone for everything I’d done. But, what did I do? I ignored the misgivings I had about Willow, and left Dawn. She’d be dead by now if Willow’s magic had worked. I don’t know why the magic didn’t work, but if I find out who was responsible, well, let’s say, I owe them. Big time.

I think I must have drifted off to sleep, and when I open my eyes again, she’s still there. Dawn’s gone. I assume to bed, but Buffy’s sitting in her chair, dozing. My arm’s cramping a bit through being still too long, and I flex it as well as my injuries allow. The movement causes her eyes to fly open, and I wish I’d kept still. While she’s asleep, I can look at her. I can’t meet her eyes.

She stays all day. I know she’s waiting for me to apologise, to say something, anything. There are no words. No words to make up for what I’ve done. Dawn comes in often, sitting for a while, chatting to me but not expecting an answer beyond a slight nod or a shake of the head. She’s my anchor right now, my reason to go on living.

She sat there all day, but as darkness fell, Dawn persuaded her to go to bed. She's exhausted, and despite the blood she's had, her cuts aren't healing as fast as they should. Could be something to do with the fact that she hasn't really slept. I relax when she goes. It's been so hard to be close to her, knowing that everything's finally ruined.

After she’s gone, I just lie in the silence for a while. Of course, it isn’t really silence. I hear Buffy moving around. My mind immediately tries to imagine what she’s doing, undressing, getting ready for bed, but I stop that particular train of thoughts before it takes hold.

Dawn comes in and sits in the chair, and I wonder at her. She doesn't seem to hate me for letting her down. Still, it's the first time I've had the chance to apologise, so I do.

"What for?" she asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

"For leaving you, giving Willow the chance to take you," I state, feeling foolish for having to say the words.

"Is that what all this has been about?" Her voice is raised, and I'm hoping Buffy doesn't hear.

"All what?" I ask, purposely keeping my voice low as a hint.

"Not speaking to Buffy, not letting her do anything for you. Not even looking at her! Do you know how hurt she is?"

"I'm not trying to hurt her," I reply. "I just can't bear the thought of seeing in her eyes how much she hates me."

Suddenly, Dawn's looming over me, and her face is livid.

"You know, I always wondered exactly why Buffy used to hit you so often. Now I know. If you weren't already hurt, I'd be pummelling your face right now!"

The picture causes a smile to hover on my lips, but it's immediately replaced by a grimace as healing burns pull painfully.

She takes the opportunity afforded by my silence to continue. "You think she hates you? How can you be so stupid? She LOVES you. Can't you see that? She's scared because you're hurt, and petrified that she's lost your love. For someone who's been around as long as you have, you're amazingly stupid."

I shake my head, and I'm embarrassed to notice that tears are leaking from my eyes. "Dawn, you don't understand. I told Buffy I'd protect you. The best way I could have done that was to save her from Glory. But I failed. Then she came back, and I tried to be what I knew I should be. I tried so hard, but the demon in me wouldn't allow it. I hurt her, you know what I tried to do, and then, rather than face her, I ran off to get myself a soul. Even failed at that, because I had to come back different. I left you and Buffy to face Willow the first time she went crazy. Buffy got shot and you nearly lost her. You did lose Tara. Then, at school, if I'd spotted those stupid partition walls sooner, you'd never have been attacked, and …."

"Now stop that!" She's not shouting, but her voice has a penetrating quality that makes me sure everyone in Sunnydale heard her. "I'm not listening to any more of this 'I failed' crap. You haven't failed me. You've saved me, more times than you know. Not just since you came back, but while Buffy was gone to. If it hadn't been for you, I'd have gone crazy, maybe done something really stupid. And, I know Buffy's got this blind spot where you're concerned, but she knows all this. She knows. And she loves you."

"That's what she said the night Willow …, but it’s changed now."

She looks surprised at my words. "It hasn’t changed, you idiot. And, if she said that, what was the problem? Why didn’t it change things between you?" I take a few seconds to process what she’s just said. The possibility that she still cares about me simply hadn’t occurred to me. I go back to how I felt the night of the fire.

"I didn't ... I don’t think it's real," I whisper. "She's scared. She's scared for you. She needs someone. Need and love aren't the same thing. And I can't be with her unless it's forever. I know it's more than I deserve, but I can't do it any other way."

"So that's it, is it? Because she can't promise forever, you think she doesn't love you? I've never heard anything so stupid. Did Dru promise you forever? 'Cos, I don't see her around now." She pantomimes looking round the room.

"No, Dru never promised anything, well nothing important. Dru never really loved me. She loved Angel, all I was, was a convenient surrogate. But, I can't be that with Buffy. If we're together, it has to be everything, and she deserves better than me. Sooner or later, she'll find someone better, and she'll be gone."

"So, you don't talk to her, don't look at her?"

"If I look at her and see that she hates me, I don’t think I could take it. If I see anything but hate in her eyes, I'm going to beg her to hold me, and that'll be the beginning of something I won't be able to stop."

"Spike, have you told her how you feel?"

"Tried to, same night she told me. Don't know if she understood."

"And, do you think not looking at her is helping her to understand?"

I can't answer, but I know what I have to do. "I need to go home," I state.

"Home? You can't go home. You can hardly move."

"I can if I have to. I'll manage. I need to put some distance between us, give us both a chance to get our feelings sorted out. This room, it's too … "

She nods, understanding my thought even though it's unfinished.

"If I call Xander in the morning and get him to take you home, it's on one condition."

I look up expectantly.

"I'm coming round to check on you regularly. Ok?"

"No. You can't come round unless Buffy's with you. It’s too dangerous. And, there's no point in me going if Buffy comes to me."

"Ok" she agrees, reluctantly. "Then I'll get Clem or Xander or Giles to check on you."

I wince at the possibility of having Giles or Xander playing nursemaid, but I agree with a reluctant nod.

It’s much later. Dawn’s gone to bed, and the house is as quiet as such a place ever is. I’m awake, and I wonder what disturbed me. It takes me a moment to work out what the noise is. I can hear soft sobs, and they’re coming from across the hallway. I can’t bear to hear them, knowing it’s Buffy who’s crying out her misery all alone.

I swing my legs off the bed, wincing as the injuries to my chest are stretched painfully. I stand up gingerly. I don’t know how my legs escaped entirely, but they did. It’s hard to walk, amazing how much you move your upper body, but I shuffle very inelegantly to the door, following my ears towards the sound.

She’s in what was Joyce’s room. I open the door slowly, the bandages on my hand making it impossible to do anything else. If she hears me, the only sign she gives is that the sobbing quiets. I approach the bed, realising from the contours of the impossibly small figure under the covers that she’s curled in an almost foetal position.

"Buffy," I say softly. Her breathing is suddenly audible as a sharply indrawn breath, and she turns towards me.

She turns slowly, waiting for me to speak. The last time I was alone with her, upstairs in this house comes back to me. The bathroom. What I tried to do. I almost run, terrified that I’ll lose control again, but with an effort and some deep breathing I manage to get my terror under control.

"I’m sorry, Love, so sorry," I tell her. I don’t specify what I’m sorry for, because it would take forever.

"But, you don’t love me now," she adds, her voice bitter.

I’m shaking my head. She really thinks I could stop loving her. "No, Pet. I’ll always love you."

"Then why?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Because I let you down again. I though you’d hate me because I let Willow take her."

She sits up then and flicks on the light by her bed.

"You didn’t let me down. You’ve only done that once, and we agreed not to talk about that. You really still love me?" She sounds so vulnerable that I can’t help it. I approach the bed, sit on it and take her hands in mine.

"Until the end of the earth," I promise, and I know it’s a promise I’ll never break.

"Stay?" she asks. Oh, the number of times I’ve dreamt of this moment. Of course, the dreams tended to require me to be able to actually do something about it. Right now, even sitting is agony, and the heat from her body is searing me. But, how can I refuse? I lie down carefully beside her, still dressed in some of Xander’s cast off sweats, keeping out of the constriction of bed covers. I can’t put my arm around her, but I carefully rest one bandaged hand on her hip.

"I’ll stay until morning," I promise. "Then, I’m going home."

She stiffens at the news. "Why?"

"Because we both need some time to sort out how we feel. I know I love you,

and you tell me you love me. I think we both need some time to see how we can live with those feelings, before we take this any further. It’s too important to get wrong."

She nods, not speaking, but she relaxes a little. It’s not long before she’s breathing deeply and evenly, and I know she’s asleep.

Despite my words, I know it’s already too late. Whether I want to or not, I belong to her, and I know that sooner or later, she’ll break my heart, and I’m scared of what I could be capable of when that happens.

I sit in the control room and watch the people below me, scurrying around to prepare for the day's tests. No sign of Sam yet, but that's ok. I moved back into our quarters last night. I stifle a yawn as I remember just how little sleep we got last night. I don't think she's completely forgiven me yet, but she's going to try, so I can't hope for better.

The beginning of her thaw was the fact that I stayed away from Buffy after the fire. We knew about it, because it's official policy to keep tabs on the Slayer. When the news came through, Sam expected me to run off to find out what happened. I wanted to, I mean, even forgetting Buffy, these people were my friends. I liked Willow in particular, and hearing that she was injured so badly, I really wanted to go and see her, speak to Xander. And, I admit it, I wanted to see Buffy, see how she was bearing up.

But I was smart enough to know that this was like the first hurdle. I had to stay away if Sam was going to believe my intentions to rebuild our marriage. I was tempted to go but cover my tracks, but, in the end, I decided to stay honest. And, last night, two weeks after the fire, I got my reward. We're not out of the woods yet, I know that, but, I moved back in, and we're going to be doing our best to put things back together the way they were before, or maybe even better.

The sphere is still a mystery. Well, everything we've found on this dig is a mystery. But, it's difficult to get excited about something that just soaks up everything you throw at it. I mean, it'll be incredibly useful if we can find a way to make it, or even shape it. Imagine a defensive material that soaks up everything you throw at it. All you'd need is some sort of cooling system and you'd have an impenetrable shield. But, it's boring.

The sphere's different. Apart from anything else, it's beautiful. It's a savage beauty - a bit like a storm-lashed sea, but there's no denying its appeal. It's easy to fall under its spell - just watch the movement inside, losing track of time as you do so.

Nothing we've tried on it has done anything. We've tried abrasives, corrosive fluids, gases, and nothing has made any impression. Today's test is a last ditch attempt to find something. If this doesn't work, I just don't know what else to try.

We've got a high power pulsed laser set up in the lab. We're going to try hitting it with enough power to vaporise most substances, using a tightly focussed beam. The wavelength is so short, that we don't think anything will actually be able to escape from the sphere, even if we do manage to punch through.

Sam arrives, and she looks up at me. She's smiling, looking really happy again. Well, I did do my best last night. I grin back, and I feel like I did when we first fell in love. I just hope the tests today give us something to work on, so we can get back to our lives again. I hope I never see Buffy Summers again, never have any reason to come back to Sunnydale.

I can see that things are ready down below, so I speak to the assembled team.

"Everything set?" I ask.

"Yes, Sir," one of the technicians replies. Unusually, we've got four technicians and Sam working in there today. They're not really needed, but they could do with a morale booster. If this works, it'll make up for the hours of grinding routine tests they've done in the past couple of weeks. They deserve a break.

"Go ahead," I tell them.

Sam starts to give orders, and I settle down in front of a bank of displays. Some show me the sphere itself, some the lab, and others give me live feedback on various measurements being made on the sphere. Output characteristics, temperature and so on.

The laser is switched on. Minimum power to start. There's no effect, so Sam gives the order to step up. We're keeping the increments small, because we don't want to destroy this thing, just get it to give up some of its secrets.

An hour later, and there's still been no reaction. On the last test, there was the first suggestion of a temperature increase at the pulse site. The difference was within measurement error, though, so we're going with a step up. I know we're nearing the upper limit of the design spec of the laser, and I'm resigning myself to another failure.

At last, there's a definite sign that the sphere is heating locally at the site of the laser bombardment. It's tiny, but it's there. We step up again, hoping for a clearer signal yet. Again, it's so tiny, it’s almost insignificant. Any other material would be instantly vaporised by the treatment we're giving this sphere, and all we're getting is almost negligible temperature increase.

Two more steps, and we've reached the maximum output specified for this laser. When the results are complete, Sam calls a halt.

"Sam, try another couple of steps, we could be close to something here," I suggest over the communication system.

"Riley, the laser's not specified at higher power. It might become unstable."

"Nah, it'll be fine. Just another couple of steps."

"No, Riley, I think we've done enough. There's a team in Minnesota, and they've just produced a laser that gives twice the power of this one. We could get hold of that and try again."

"And how long will that take?" I ask. "Weeks. I want this finished today. We're going to try another couple of steps."

She flashes me a look of irritation, then shrugs. She understands I'm just trying to get us out of Sunnydale as soon as possible. I hit the override switch, and the laser steps up again.

Two more steps, and there's still no change. Sam goes to power down the laser again, but I override. Just another one.

I'm looking at the temperature read out, willing it to show something significant, when I hear excitement below. There's a flashing light on the power supply for the laser, and I hear the words "It's unstable, initiate emergency shut down." I move to kill the power to the laser from the control console in front of me, and as I do, I glance at the monitor showing the sphere. The crazing on the inner surface of the sphere is growing, visibly travelling over the surface, and it's turning opaque by the second. I watch, mesmerised, as it becomes obvious that the outer surface is starting to crack too. It's obvious that those in the lab haven't noticed the sphere, they're all looking at the laser.

The cracks are moving from the bombardment site, and travelling in random directions around the sphere, and then it happens. The sphere has been breached. The pinkish energy we've seen inside the ball is leaking out, tendrils of it swirling around the lab.

I hear the first scream, just as the containment alarm goes off. The barriers come down around the room, titanium shutters sliding down the glass separating me from the lab. I catch a last glimpse of Sam's face before the shutters close. She looks terrified.

I continue to watch on the monitors. The scream came from one of the technicians. She's young, maybe twenty one, and pretty too. Or she was. Where the pink tendrils are touching her, her clothes seem to be dissolving, but what’s worse, is that the skin underneath is doing the same. I’m watching in stupefied horror when another scream joins hers, a male voice this time, and I see another technician being touched by the colour and meeting the same fate.

I know it’s hopeless, but I can’t help myself. One glance at the monitor in front of me and I see Sam's terrified face. I run out of the control room, and down to the door of the lab. I’m running against the flow of others, the containment alarm being a general evacuation command. I know I can’t get in, but I hit and kick the door a few times, making absolutely no impression. I fall to my knees, ineffectually punching the shutter.

A degree of rationality returns then, and I run back to the control room. There must be a way of reversing the lock down. And, if there is, it must be accessible from there.

The screaming’s worse when I get back. Sam’s still unaffected, but she’s crouching in a corner, and it’s getting closer. I start to interrogate the computer, searching for anything that’ll let me get that door open. One part of my brain’s saying I shouldn’t even attempt it, because we’ve got to keep this thing contained. Another’s saying that this is my wife, and I’ve got to do something.

I’m scanning the possibilities, using every password I know, and I’m getting nowhere. Another scream draws my attention back to the monitor. It’s started on Sam. She’s crouching in a corner close to the door, and from what I can see, it’s getting through the door. Not destroying it, just seeping through.

The noise is more than I can stand, so I mute the speakers, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Sam, as her flesh slowly melts away from her bones, her mouth open in a now soundless scream. I’m crying, I can feel the tears running down my cheeks, my breath hitching, sounding impossibly loud despite the alarm which is still shrilling all around me.

I know she must be dead. There’s nothing left of her. I’m waiting for it to come to me. If it can get through titanium, there’s nothing to stop it getting me here. I feel it at last, a stabbing pain in my back. I don’t even turn to see the shape of my doom, just wait for the end with a total lack of resistance.

As quickly as the pain hit me, it left. I don’t know why. One look at the control room shows no sign of the pink stuff, and I get up and walk outside.

I head for the exit of the complex, away from the lab, and once outside, I spot it. It’s leaking out of the unit a hundred yards from me, and it looks like it’s got a destination in mind. It's not dissipating, spreading through space in a random manner. It's spread into a long, thin, ribbon, heading in a straight line towards the centre of the town.

I start to follow, taking it slowly, not wanting to get in its way. It’s moving through the familiar streets of Sunnydale, avoiding people, skirting buildings and cars. But, this is Sunnydale. The locals might not admit they've got a problem, but avoiding the unknowns always a good idea. People are running from it, panicking, one sole figure following it. Me.

Past the UC Sunnydale campus, along a road filled with cars. I wonder why it's avoiding people now, after what it did to those in the lab. It's as if it has a purpose now that it didn't know about then. I'm thinking about this thing as if it's intelligent, because that's how it seems to me. I wish I understood why it didn't it avoid the people in the lab. Why didn't it keep out of Sam's way?

I’m not hurrying; it’s not trying to get away. It moves into the centre of town, single-mindedly keeping up its progress. It makes no sense at all, but my thoughts aren’t coherent anyway. Throughout my walk, I see the face of Sam, my wife, the woman I love, dissolve under its influence, and I know that I’m responsible. For her death, and the others in the lab. There may be more to come, but my motives have more to do with revenge than prevention.

I’ve killed before. In the line of duty – mainly demon, but an occasional human who was harbouring demons too. But this, this is something else. I’ve killed people. Good people. People who were fighting evil like I’ve always tried to do. Sam ....

I suddenly realise where I am. I hadn’t been paying any attention to anything other than the trail I’m following. After avoiding other buildings completely, it’s heading straight for the Magic Box.

Chapter 32 – In the Magic Box

The past two weeks have been difficult. Spike did what he promised, he moved back home the morning after he spent the night in my bed. But it changed everything.

We've spent the time since then slowly trying to build trust between us. I've felt more than once that I'm walking on eggshells. He's so fragile, somehow, I'm doing my best not to break down the slowly growing confidence that I see. He's relaxing gradually. Every now and then I see a flicker of the Spike I fell in love with. A snarky comment, or an argument just for the sake of it. Not about anything important, of course, just keeping his hand in.

This past week, he's even trusted himself to touch me. Nothing too difficult at first, just stroking my hair out of my face, or putting an arm around my shoulders. Simple things that meant so much. I can hardly believe how convinced he was that such simple things could lead to him losing control. Then, three days ago, he moved from a chaste kiss on the cheek, much like he gives Dawn, to kissing me properly. The first one was short, but I persuaded him to take it further. Last night, he went home late, after spending long enough kissing me that I really didn't want him to go.

I want him to stay with me tonight. And I'm not talking lying the other side of the covers from me. He's healing very well. There are scars on his arms, and he winced when I touched his chest last night, but I'm not sure that was caused by pain. My cuts are completely healed. Slayer healing is pretty amazing, but what I've got now is phenomenal. So, there're no physical impediments. I love him, and I know he loves me. And I just feel I can't bear not to have him with me at night. I mean, I want him, that goes without saying. Even when I denied feeling anything but revulsion for him, I wanted him. It's different now. I feel like time spent away from him is wasted in some way.

If I had my way, he'd move in today. But, realistically, that's not going to happen. I'm going to do my best to persuade him to stay over tonight. After that, we'll take it one step at a time.

He's talking to Dawn, joking with her. It seems so natural. Soon, I hope we'll be as natural as that. Until then, I love watching the two of them together. It makes my heart swell to know that the two people I love best are so close.

Giles is discussing the day’s business with Anya. He asked us to come here to tell us some of his findings. Dawn went to the doctor for a blood test this morning, finally providing the data he needs to complete the report Giles requested. Not that all the results are available yet, not by a long way.

Xander comes in, standing beside me, but his eyes are on Anya. I know they’re working on getting back together again. He’s so impatient, but he’s doing his best to let her have her revenge in at least doing it slowly. It’s good to see him looking hopeful again. He’s had so much sadness in his life. Even now, Willow’s still hovering somewhere between life and death, and he still loves her. He’s the one who’s been there for her at every turn. He never doubted her when she came back, and even now, he believes there was more to what happened that we know.

Giles finishes, and gestures towards the research table, bringing a sheaf of notes with him.

"So, Watcher, what've you got?" Spike asks as soon as we're all assembled around the table. It's good to hear the 'Watcher' epithet again. It's a sign of his growing confidence that he'll use it.

Giles gives him a look that speaks volumes, and I smile.

"I’ve got the preliminary results of the tests here," he says, "and I’ve added my own observations. As you know, I did the standard Slayer evaluation tests specified by the Council of Watchers. There is a great deal of data on, not only Buffy's previous results, but on many other Slayers throughout the years. Buffy was always in the top ten percent of Slayers historically in these tests. Since the change, she’s fifty percent stronger. She’s about thirty percent faster. Her general fitness is significantly greater, but that’s more difficult to put a figure on."

He shuffles through his notes before continuing. "The medical tests agree with my findings. You and Spike have metabolic rates which are off the scale in terms of humans. Your need for oxygen is minimal compared to the extrapolated values we would expect for humans. You have chemicals in your blood unlike any found in a living creature before. We may never discover their purpose. Other chemicals, specifically, some enzymes, are known. From tests carried out by the Council of Watchers over the years, we know that certain enzymes peculiar to vampires are responsible for their being able to ingest blood and derive nourishment from it. They are particularly unusual, as enzymes in mammals are normally effective only over a very narrow range of temperatures. This enzyme is effective over a range encompassing some thirty degrees Fahrenheit."

"The physical tests on Dawn show her to be within the expected range for her age. Everything checks out as would be expected. The initial tests from the blood sample she gave today look normal too, but we may have to wait another two weeks before the results are all in."

Dawn’s normal, and Spike and I are freaks. I guess we already knew that. Funny. I once called him and me a freak show. It was truer than I knew. I smile at my own thoughts. Once those words would have been bitter. Now, it's different, the similarities between us binding us together, keeping us apart from the others around us. But, I don't feel any resentment on that score. Everything about what we are now just feels right.

There’s a strange crackling sound in the air, and it drags me back from my own thoughts. I look towards the front wall of the shop, and I see something snaking towards us. Spike and I instinctively stand, putting ourselves between it and Dawn while Xander, Giles and Anya look on.

The tendrils of pink ignore our efforts to keep her safe. They’re homing in on her, and she’s shrinking away from them. We push her back, towards the training room, but as we move away, the speed of our strange pursuer increases, easily matching and overtaking us.

As the outermost finger of pink touches Dawn, there’s a sound, a ‘ping’ like you get if you flick your finger against a crystal wine glass. Then Dawn starts to glow. She’s glowing green, and the pink is invading her.

Instantly, her terror turns to ... peace. I can’t understand it. My arm is on hers, but the pink ignores me completely, keeping its distance from me, and from Spike who’s at Dawn’s other side.

The expression on her face is ... beatific. There's a rapture on her face that I've never seen before, even in her happiest moments. And there's something else. She’s at peace.

I find my voice at last. "Dawn, what’s happening? Is it hurting you?"

"No," she answers, and her voice is filled with wonder. "It’s ... good. I can’t explain it. No, maybe I can. Remember when you came back? When you described the place you called heaven? That’s what it feels like. I feel ... safe. Secure. Warm. Happy. This is how it’s meant to be."

"How what’s meant to be?" I ask, but the break in my voice shows I’ve already got my own idea.

"This is it, it’s when I leave you," she answers. I try to speak, and at the same instant, Spike’s voice croaks a single word. "No."

She turns to him, and puts her hand on his face. "You haven’t failed," she tells him, knowing instinctively how he feels. "This is why I exist in this time."

She turns to me. "Do something for me?" she asks.

"Anything," I reply, and I mean it. I’ll kill, torture, scream, bargain with Satan, anything, just to stop this.

"Hold me," she asks. "It won’t hurt you," she adds as if it would matter.

"You too," she adds to Spike.

I stand on her right, and Spike is on her left. We both put our arms around her, and they end up partially around each other. She nods her head approvingly at us. "That's it. You need to be together. You need each other."

Everything in the room shrinks to the three of us. There is no one else. There is nowhere else. My world is contained in my arms.

*-*-*

I can hardly believe the tableau I’m watching. Watching. That’s what Watchers do, after all. No bloody use for anything else. It’s the saddest and most uplifting thing I’ve ever seen. I hardly notice Xander and Anya moving closer to each other, needing human contact. What we’re seeing is something terrible and wonderful, holy and awful all at the same time.

All I can see is Spike and Buffy, holding each other, but with a green glow between them. The green is fading gradually, as a pink colour flows into it. There’s no violence about the reaction, rather the reverse. There’s a peace about it that’s hard to describe. It’s like imagining two enormously heavy freight trains colliding without sound, without anything to show for it except a bed of flowers.

I can hear Dawn’s voice coming from the green. It’s recognisably Dawn’s voice, but it’s Dawn as she will be some day. When she’s impossibly old and wise. Wiser than I’ll ever be. She’s consoling the two who love her most. Telling them to live for one another, for the love they share. I hear Buffy try to disagree, but somehow, Dawn forces them both to accept the love they feel for one another. She's telling them not to be afraid, not to mourn her. That they are meant to be together.

The green is fading, becoming paler, and Dawn’s voice is becoming fainter too. At last, there’s a giggle. A laugh of pure joy that’s so Dawn, that I can’t help but smile. It’s followed by words that I know will haunt me.

"I’m going now," she tells them. "I’m not sorry, really I’m not. It’s as it should be. And, it won’t be for long, I promise. I see it now. Really, you’d laugh too if you knew, but they won’t let me tell you. Goodbye. I love you Spike. I love you Buffy. Listen to your hearts, both of you. Remember your love for each other. That’s how this will be right. It’s the only way."

The last words were so quiet as to be almost inaudible. The only reason they were heard is the total silence in the room.

It’s gone, the green and the pink have gone. And, for the first time I notice a figure in the doorway. Riley Finn is propping himself up on the doorframe, weeping openly. I ignore him. Xander and Anya are crying, holding one another, and I’m seeing the room through a film of tears. My eyes return to where she was. Buffy and Spike are holding one another still, as she wanted, but both have fallen to their knees. Both are sobbing, unable to contain their misery.

"What just happened?" Riley’s asking.

I take off my glasses, wiping my eyes with my handkerchief before cleaning them.

"I’m not sure I know," I reply. "Except that Dawn’s gone. Gone to where she belongs, although I couldn’t begin to guess where that might be."

"That ... pink. Why didn’t it destroy them?"

He’s pointing an accusing finger at the two grieving creatures on the floor.

"I don’t know," I answer. "Should it have?"

"It killed everyone else it touched," he tells me, his voice shaky.

"What do you know about it?" I ask, immediately suspicious.

"The lab. We found a sphere. Buried for thousands of years. We were doing some tests, but something happened. I made it happen. I told her it would be ok, and I wouldn’t let her stop, and then that pink was everywhere, and she’s dead, and the screams, those awful screams. She’s dead, and it’s my fault."

"Who’s dead?" I ask.

"Sam, my wife. I killed her. I killed her, and all the others."

With a sudden clarity, I understand. The sphere wasn't ready to dissolve, something this man did caused it to fail before its time. He's responsible for the fact that Dawn's gone. I move towards him, belatedly noticing that Xander has had the same idea. I get there first, hitting him hard, getting satisfaction from the fact that he falls to the ground looking stunned. As he tries to get up, Xander hits him, and he's sprawled on the ground again. He's sobbing brokenly, and I know it's nothing to do with physical pain. He looks so pathetic that I find my rage at him dissipating.

The two demons on the floor don't even seem to have noticed his presence. One glance at them shows them as they were.

"You did this," I manage to say coldly.

"You're responsible for that." I point to Buffy, knowing that such a display of raw emotion must be recognised.

"I don't understand," he mutters through tears.

"You destroyed the Orb. The Key was the antidote to its power. Sooner or later it would have happened, but maybe not for several years. We might have come up with a way that Dawn could have survived it, but, your meddling meant that we didn't get the chance. Dawn is gone, and you are responsible."

Anya has come up behind Xander, and she's holding on to him, preventing him from venting his anger further. I glance again at Buffy, relieved that the events in the room seem to have gone unnoticed by her and Spike.

"If you value your life, get out," I tell Riley. The last thing either Buffy or Spike need now is Riley's death on their conscience. I almost consider killing him myself, as I know my conscience won't have a problem with it, but I decide against it. Letting him live is simply the more cruel option. He's lost his wife, he's destroyed an innocent child, and he's going to have to live with that.

Riley tries to stand, but he's sobbing so hard, he only manages to get to his knees. I wasn’t able to help Dawn in the end. I could do nothing except ruin the last days of her life by telling her that her life would be short. But, there’s something I can do now. It’s not much, but it’s something.

I walk over to Riley, and to my surprise, Xander and Anya come with me. Between the three of us, we lift him to his feet, and pull him back towards the door. With an effort, we throw him outside. He’s weeping, sobbing that he’s sorry, but that’s the last thing we need right now.

When the debris is removed, we move towards the two who hurt most. The five of us draw together, as the crying slows, and the first tears begin to dry. We cling together, remembering her words, trying to feel joy at her joy. But it’s hard. It’s so hard not to remember that she’s gone, and to know that every day without her will be empty.