TITLE: Gifts 3/3

AUTHOR: Kelso

WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/kelso28a/

Gifts 3/3

Through her concern about her friends' well-being, Buffy calmed herself as much as possible. So far, she felt fine and apparently Spike did, too. She only hoped that situation lasted. Could Spike have been right about something being wrong in the house? After all, he'd known something was off about Kathy and he'd sensed the same with Anya. Spike was an experienced demon. She should have given him more credit from the beginning.

Spike snapped his fingers. "Got it! I think I know what's about. Some sort of witch is in this house, zapping up your essences of good. You'll keep feeling worse and worse till it drains you. Saw the same thing happen in Spain once. It was quite the massacre. We have to get you out of this house before it's too late. We don't have much time."

Not bothering to question Spike this time, Buffy helped support Willow and Oz toward the front door, while Spike aided Anya and Xander. Once there, Buffy propped her weak friends against the wall and went to open the door. Only it refused to budge. She pulled again, checking to see if any strange sort of lock was engaged. Still no luck. "What's going on with this thing? Is it stuck?"

"Here, let me try." Spike moved into position and gave a heave, which also failed. "I'm beginning not to like this," he muttered. He stepped over to the window and tried to push it up. Failure again. Spike then picked up a wooden chair and slammed it against the glass. The chair hit hard and bounced back, nearly flying out of the vampire's grasp but not even denting the window.

"Okay, that was just plain weird." Buffy felt a shiver run through her. "What's going on? That window should have at least broken. In, like, a million or so bits."

Spike turned back to her, frowning. "The witch must have cast an exterior spell that prevents anyone from escaping. Looks like your gang is in serious danger after all."

Buffy glanced around. Her friends weren't the only ones who looked ill. Every other student in sight, with the exceptions of her, Spike, and Parker, was staggering. "If what you say about this witch is right, why hasn't it sapped my good essence, too? I don't feel at all light-headed."

Spike grinned. "Because at the core you're evil like me, and that proves we belong together?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Try again."

"Truth is, it's because of your ring." Spike indicated her hand. "The one I gave you. It's enchanted, remember? Look how it's glowing. It's absorbing the witch's spell and protecting you from it."

"Wow." Buffy stared at the ring. The glow was quite beautiful, she had to admit. Then she came back to her senses. "All right, I get why the spell isn't affecting me. I also get why it isn't affecting you, as an evil vampire. But what about Parker? He's moving around almost like nothing's happening."

Spike shrugged. "Doesn't have much essence of good to steal. If not much is there, he won't be affected too badly. Might even survive the experience with no ill effects."

"That is *so* not fair," Buffy muttered. "All right, then what do we do? We have to save everyone else."

"Find the witch and kill it," Spike stated. "It's got to be inside somewhere, with us. We'll have to be careful, though. It's extremely dangerous, especially with all the power it's collecting."

Buffy glanced at her groggy friends. "Will they be okay if we leave them?"

"They won't be if we stay," Spike responded.

"Good enough." Buffy moved close to Willow and the others. "Don't worry, Spike and I will take care of everything. You're all going to be fine."

Willow managed a weak smile. "I believe you, Buffy."

Buffy whirled and set off down the hall at a quick trot. "Hurry up, Spike. We need to take care of this thing now." She looked behind to see where the vampire was. Too far back for her liking. "Fine," she muttered. "We can cover more ground if we split up anyway." She made a quick turn and found herself at the foot of a spiral staircase that led up several flights. "Might as well start from the top and work my way down."

She darted up the steps to begin her hunt. At the top, Buffy looked all around. She didn't see an obvious place to start so she just started randomly opening doors and peeking inside rooms. On the fourth one, she hit paydirt. A dark figure clad in loose robes was crouched over a glowing kettle, chanting in an unfamiliar language. Which only meant that it was a language other than English. For all Buffy knew, it could have been Spanish or German.

She moved toward the being. To her, it looked like a male witch. A warlock. They still called male witches warlocks, right? Well, whatever. She was going to stop him from carrying out his evil plan. "Hey!" she called. "This is Halloween, you know. All you evildoers are supposed to take the night off, or did you miss the memo?"

The warlock turned on her with a snarl, waving his hand and chanting. Buffy found herself slammed against the wall and pinned there by some powerful force. Damn, that thing was strong. A burst of light shot toward her, but made an abrupt turn and zapped into her ring, where it disappeared.

Wow. Giles had been right about the ring's power.

The warlock glowered and began chanting again, gathering more strength. Buffy braced herself for the next blow, figuring it was sure to be even tougher to withstand. She was helpless, barely able to move even her head, as her enemy turned on her.

Then she heard them. Footsteps. Maybe Spike had tracked her and come to offer support. Buffy managed to glance toward the door, but her heart sank when she saw the figure who stood there. It was Parker, who was guaranteed to offer no help whatsoever. He hesitated, staring with wide eyes. The startled warlock promptly changed its target and shot its next bolt of energy at him. Parker flew backwards to flip over the guardrail and tumble down the spiral staircase. Buffy heard a distant thud that she assumed was the sound of his body hitting bottom.

That could have been her, but for her Slayer strength and the protection ring. The warlock began to chant again, and Buffy struggled again to free herself from the binding. Giles hadn't taught her how to deal with magical attacks, and it wasn't like she faced them often. Sure enough, she couldn't find the strength to free herself. As the warlock raised his hands, Buffy was pretty sure she was doomed.

Then backup arrived. All Buffy saw was a whitish streak as Spike flew across the room to pounce on the warlock. It flung him away, turning its magical attack on the vampire, but the break in action allowed Buffy a chance to break free and launch her own attack from behind. A series of quick blows later, she had pummeled her enemy to the ground. Buffy hesitated, seeing her rival seemingly helpless, but the stubborn warlock began to chant again.

She sighed. "You really can't bear to make this easy for me, can you?" Before he could cast any other nastiness at her, Buffy yanked her stake out of the sleeve of her dress and staked the warlock through the heart. Inconveniently, he failed to revert to dust but at least he was dead.

Slowly, she picked herself up, a little the worse for wear but not so badly off, all things considered. She could easily have been dead instead. In fact, if not for Spike, she probably would have been.

Oh. Thinking about Spike reminded her that he was lying in the corner, motionless. Buffy darted over and fell to her knees beside him, fingers automatically reaching out to check for a pulse before she realized, of course, that he wouldn't have one. She gently pulled his head onto her lap and touched his face. "Come on, Spike, wake up."

No response.

"Spike!" Buffy yelled. "After all that, you'd better be okay."

Finally, he stirred and opened his eyes. "A kiss--even a little one--would make me feel much, much better."

"Oh, you--vampire! You were faking, weren't you?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he said with an innocent expression.

Buffy shoved his head off her lap, feeling a little justified when it thudded against the floor.

"Hey, that hurt!" Spike yelped.

"Yeah, well, you deserved it," Buffy informed him, but without a fraction of the heat her words would have carried earlier in the evening. Like it or not, Spike had saved her. Again. Maybe he did deserve just a little kiss. She leaned over and pressed her lips against his, very briefly but very distinctly, before she pulled away. "There. Now let's go check on the others."

*****

A week had passed since the eventful Halloween party. Everyone except Parker had survived the incident with no ill effects. Willow started a rumor that the guests' light-headedness had been caused by a gas leak in the house, and that explanation soon gained general acceptance. As for Parker's death, the common theory was that he had accidentally fallen over the stair railing, which had led to his tumbling all the way down and breaking his neck. Since no one had admitted to witnessing the fall, however, the police had to investigate the possibility of foul play and they hadn't yet issued a statement as to their findings.

Meanwhile, forced to view Spike in a different light, the Scooby gang had to admit that his actions had been heroic but he was still an evil, murdering demon at heart. At least, most of them thought that. Willow didn't contribute much to those conversations and Buffy also remained pretty quiet rather than launching into one of her usual anti-Spike harangues.

Spike noticed that the gang had started to soften toward him, though of course the only member he really cared about was Buffy. Still, if her friends accepted him that could only help his cause. In particular, he noted that Willow had become friendlier. So on Monday, when he was on his way to his composition class to meet Buffy, he didn't mind running into Willow in the hallway first.

"Hey, Spike, do you have a minute?" she greeted him.

He checked the watch he had begun wearing just so he wouldn't be late for any Buffy-meetings. "Sure, got a little time before class starts."

"Have you noticed something strange about Buffy? Well, not about Buffy herself exactly, but it concerns her."

Concerned, Spike demanded, "What's that?"

"Nothing bad. At least I don't think so," Willow assured him. "It's just strange. You do know that all of a sudden Professor Walsh has started giving Buffy much better grades in psychology class, right?"

That was all? Spike instantly relaxed. "Slayer mentioned it. So?"

"So...I wonder why. It came from out of nowhere and I can't figure it out. I mean, Buffy's not stupid but she shouldn't be getting A's on every assignment and test. I've looked at some of her work and it's like B or C level most of the time."

Spike shrugged. "Can't help you there." He wasn't going to give away his secret, just in case Willow spilled to Buffy and she wasn't pleased.

"Huh." Willow stared hard at him. "I really thought you might know something about that whole business. Guess I was wrong."

"Yeah, guess so." Spike snuck another peek at his watch. "That all, then?"

"Sure." Willow shifted her book bag to her other hand, then blurted, "You know, her work *has* improved since she started getting those higher grades. I think all she needed was a confidence boost. Whatever way she happened to get it."

That statement told Spike that Willow had figured out his secret, but she wasn't going to blab to Buffy. "Whatever way she happened to get it," he agreed.

"Well, I'll let you get going." Willow stepped around him and disappeared down the hallway.

His little run-in with Buffy's friend nearly made Spike late to comp class, and he slipped through the door seconds before the instructor began his lecture. As always, he was in the seat next to Buffy's. From the way she kept glancing him and mouthing words, he knew she wanted to communicate something. But what it was, Spike had no clue. He had never mastered the art of lipreading. Finally, he shook his head slightly to let Buffy know that whatever her message was, it wasn't coming through. She frowned, then began to whisper very quietly. Yet despite his enhanced hearing, Spike couldn't figure out what she wanted to tell him.

Frustrated by Spike's obvious lack of comprehension, Buffy picked up her pen and scrawled several words on a scrap of notebook paper. She then palmed the note and passed it across the aisle to him. Once it was safely in his possession, Spike flipped it over and read: "Just heard. Parker's death was ruled accidental." Beneath those words, she had drawn a smiley face.

Spike wrote his response below. "Good news. Celebrate tonight?" Well, a vamp could always hope. With a lightning-quick motion, he threw the note onto Buffy's desk.

She read it and sent back her response. "Bronze? Around 7?"

"Perfect. Meet you there," Spike wrote back. He was a bit surprised Buffy had agreed to go out with him again. Although she had become friendlier in recent days, she unfortunately hadn't yet figured out they were meant for each other. But maybe she would come to her senses that night.

Daydreaming and paying absolutely no attention to the droning voice of Dr. Petrovski, Spike began to compose a new poem in Buffy's honor. He wrote down several versions in different forms before completing one. Just as he set his pen down, he heard Buffy hissing at him and turned to look at her.

"Hello!" sounded the very unwelcome voice of the instructor. "Buffy, William! Are you two trying to disrupt my class again? It was bad enough that you passed notes once, but to do it twice is simply incredible. You're adults and you should know better than to disrespect me and your classmates with your lack of attention." He strode over to their desks and grabbed Spike's poem from the top of his.

"Hey!" Spike protested, about to try to snatch it back.

"Spike, no," Buffy urged.

He settled back into his seat with a groan and winced as the professor moved back to the front of the room, paper in hand.

"Well, what do we have here that was so important it made William and Buffy cause that unpleasant disturbance? It looks like a poem." The professor cleared his throat and recited,

"She ventures outside,

Slaying with impunity.

Golden effulgence."

The class tittered, Buffy blushed, and Spike wished for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him. He hadn't been so embarrassed since he'd been a mortal and his poetic efforts of that time had received much the same reaction.

Dr. Petrovski cleared his throat. "Quiet down, class. I'm not quite sure what William had in mind when he wrote it, but this poem is an example of a haiku. Now, a haiku is a form of Japanese lyric verse...."

*****

As the instructor lectured on, using Spike's haiku to illustrate his point, Buffy glanced at the vampire. He was staring straight ahead, not sparing the slightest glance in her direction. In fact, he looked incredibly embarrassed. Well, he shouldn't, thought Buffy. The poem, which was so obviously about her, was pretty cute. Maybe that was why he was embarrassed. Master vampires didn't usually go around acting cute. Then again, she'd never heard of any vampire besides Spike attending college class or winning prizes at Halloween costume parties. He was definitely a special case.

Buffy forced herself to at least try to pay attention to the remainder of the class, but was incredibly relieved when it ended. She wanted to talk to Spike, but he darted from the room before she could say a word. Throwing together her books, Buffy tore out after him and caught up halfway down the hallway, where she fell into step beside Spike.

"Sorry about that stuff in class," she apologized. "I was just so excited about the news about Parker that I had to share it right away. I didn't know Dr. Petrovski would throw such a fit. It was kind of like being back in high school for a minute there."

"S'all right," Spike mumbled, walking faster.

"Okay, well, I'll see you at the Bronze tonight, right?"

Spike stopped in his tracks and stared at her. "You still want to go?"

"Yeah, don't you?" He wouldn't have changed his mind because he felt uncomfortable about the poem, would he?

"No, I mean, yes. I mean, I'll meet you there."

"Good." Buffy continued on her way downstairs to meet Willow, wondering if she should invite anyone else along to the Bronze or keep it just her and Spike. She finally decided it was best to meet Spike alone. He was more likely to open up to her if no one else was around. Judging from the fact that he had been writing poems in honor of her, he definitely was still interested.

"Buffy." Willow fell into step beside her. "Class go okay?"

Buffy shrugged. "More or less. Spike and I got yelled at for passing notes and I'm going to the Bronze with him tonight. Aside from that, not much happened."

"Trying to make progress, huh?" Willow looked thoughtful. "Think you'll get anything out of him?"

"We'll see," Buffy hedged. She started thinking about the poem again and smiled slightly. But something about it confused her a little. "Hey, Willow?" She turned to her friend. "What does 'effulgence' mean?"

*****

That afternoon provided a good opportunity for a mini-Scooby meeting at Giles' place. Oz and Anya were unable to attend, but Buffy, Willow, and Xander all met with the Watcher and traded status reports. Not that there was much of consequence of trade, at least in the monster-fighting arena. Sunnydale had been very quiet since Halloween. Whether or not Spike had anything to do with the change was unknown.

"So, no new disasters on the horizon? No evil prophecies or threats of apocalypse?" Buffy asked optimistically.

Giles shook his head. "Not even a whisper. It's very strange and discomfiting."

"Exactly," Willow agreed. "Makes you wonder when the other shoe is gonna drop."

"When it does, I bet Spike is behind it," Xander chimed in.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "When will you get off the anti-Spike kick? I never would have thought this even three months ago, but he's been pretty helpful lately. I'm beginning to think we can trust him."

"Um, well, that's part of the reason we're all there today, Buffy." Willow refused to meet her eyes, which was always a bad sign.

"What?" Buffy looked at Giles, who wore a guilty expression. "*What*? You're starting to worry me, here."

"We were talking about Spike the other day," Willow began. "You know, the other day when you just happened to be busy and couldn't make it? So, anyway, we got into the issue of trusting him. I agree with you that maybe we can, but then again, Giles and Xander think maybe we can't. So we came up with a compromise." Willow reached into her backpack and withdrew a vial filled with a clear liquid. "It's a truth potion, Buffy. It took a while but I found one that should work on a vampire. All you have to do is get Spike to drink it on the night of a new moon and he won't be able to lie to you. He won't realize what's going on at the time, either, so you can ask as many questions as you want until the effects wear off. It should last for a few hours. You'll know, once and for all, why he came to town, what his true motives are, and why you haven't been able to dust him."

Xander grinned. "Yeah, just think, it'll finally be over. Can you imagine how it will feel to be free of the specter of Spike hanging over us all, wondering when he plans to pounce? No more of that."

Buffy looked at the vial and back at her friends. "Spike helped save your life, Xander. And Willow's, and Anya's, and Oz's. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Not really. I wanna know *why* he did it. I'm betting it was only to impress you for some sick reason. Not because he really cares. Once you give him what he wants, he'll turn on all of us. Deep in your heart, you know that's true. That's what Spike is all about--death and destruction and fear and pain. He's not some hero, you know. He's a vampire. A *soulless* vampire."

"Buffy," Willow interjected, "it's not like we're saying you definitely have to use the information against Spike immediately. You might even like what you find out, you know. Plus, it should be easy to get Spike to take the potion. All you have to do is empty it into a drink and he won't be able to see or smell it. I know this is a touchy subject because of what Parker did to you, but it won't hurt Spike in any way whatsoever. The only effect it will have is to make him unable to lie. That's all. No harm in that, right?"

"What are you more concerned about?" Xander jumped back in. "Your loyal, longtime friends, or an evil vampire who's come close to killing you more than once? Are you forgetting Parent-Teacher Night, or Halloween, or the time he kidnapped Willow and me to get the love spell? We all could have been dead probably a jillion times over if Spike had his way. Can you argue with my logic?"

No, honestly, Buffy couldn't. She'd told herself pretty much the same things, more than once, and they were all true. Of course, Spike claimed he was different now, but she had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth. Or rather, she'd had no way until now.

"Giles?" She turned to him. "What do you think?"

He cleared his throat. "I believe Willow and Xander both raise valid points. I understand Spike's recent actions have been fairly admirable, but your faith in him may well be misplaced. You have an opportunity to learn what he is truly thinking, and you would be remiss to pass it up. Also, I would like to point out that the new moon begins tonight."

Great, just what she'd thought he'd say. Buffy sighed and extended her hand. "Give me the potion. I'll take it, but I'm not guaranteeing I'll use it."

*****

She was due to meet Spike at around 7 at the Bronze. Buffy arrived 20 minutes early, trying to give herself enough time to reach a decision. On the one hand, all she had to do was feed Spike the potion, wait a few minutes for it to kick in, then ask pretty much any question she pleased and Spike would be unable to lie to her. Theoretically, it was a terrific idea. In practice, though, Buffy couldn't help feeling guilty, like she was betraying Spike. He seemed to trust her and she was seriously considering tricking him. Should she or shouldn't she? She couldn't seem to make up her mind no matter how much she thought about the matter.

"Spike!" Buffy started upon seeing him materialize beside her.

"Awfully jumpy, Slayer," he noted. "Something wrong?"

"Wrong? No, nothing besides the usual slayage and school and that sort of thing." Her fist clenched around the vial in her jacket pocket.

"Take your coat?" Spike offered.

"No!" Buffy nearly yelled. "I mean, no, I'm a little cold."

Spike raised a brow. The Bronze was its typical crowded, overheated self.

"Maybe I'm coming down with something," Buffy covered up. "I'd better keep it on for a while. To be safe." Well, actually, she wanted to keep hold of the vial in a well concealed place, but she could hardly tell Spike that.

He seemed to accept her lame explanation at face value, luckily, and started to sit down himself. Then he stopped. "Want a drink?"

"A Coke, please." Buffy blurted the first thing that came into her mind and immediately started thinking of ways to slip the potion into Spike's drink. Then she started thinking of reasons not to. Then she thought about the disappointment on her friends' faces if she told them she'd failed. They did have good reason to be insecure around Spike. She owed it to them to follow through on their request.

Buffy continued to wrestle with the situation while Spike was over at the bar. By the time he returned with the beverages, she had decided she definitely had to use the potion, for everyone's peace of mind. With that subject closed, she relaxed and tried to distract the vampire. "So, Spike, how are things with you outside of school? I mean, at home or whatever you call it."

What she was really asking about his lair, although in a relatively delicate way. Spike took a long swallow of his drink before replying. "Actually, I'm moving to a new place soon. Got my eye on a house out near Restfield Cemetery."

"Oh." Buffy couldn't help thinking about how Spike would probably go about procuring the house, and her hand again strayed to the vial.

"I've been investing," he announced in the next second. "Real estate and the like. Nothing dishonest about it, whatever you might be thinking."

"I wasn't thinking...." Buffy began, then admitted, "All right, so I was. How did you get the money to start investing in the first place, then?" Surely he had used underhanded means to begin building his nest egg.

"Gambling. Greyhound races," Spike informed her. "Minimum bet is $2. Bet the right dogs and you can make a tidy sum."

Another surprise. *If* Spike was telling the truth. Buffy kept running into that issue head on. "That poem you wrote today," she found herself saying. "That was about me. You wrote another poem about me before, after the party when Parker drugged me. Do you do that a lot?"

Spike shifted in his seat. "Well, what's a lot? Once, twice a day? Don't worry, I throw most of them away. They're not good enough for you. Neither was the one that bloody teacher read today."

"I thought it was nice," Buffy admitted.

Spike looked at her sharply. "You did?"

Buffy shrugged. "No one's ever written poetry about me before. But it would have still been nice even if someone else had." Spike looked pleased, which confused even more. He truly did seem sincere. Buffy took a deep breath. "Look, Spike, I'm going to ask you something and I want an honest answer. Why did you return to Sunnydale?"

He stared at her. "What d'you mean, why? It's fairly obvious, isn't it?"

"I want to hear you say it."

"Fine." Spike shook his head in apparent bemusement. "Guess it still hasn't quite sunk in, huh? I came back because of you. Because I'm in love with you."

Although she had more or less expected to hear those words, Buffy still flinched. Could she believe Spike? She opened her mouth. "I...." Closed it. She seemed to be beyond coherent speech.

"Think about it, Slayer," Spike continued. "Why else would I waste one second saving the hides of your irritating friends? Not for fun. Why else would I stop killing? Yeah, that's right, I haven't scored one death since coming back to Sunnyhell. Because of you."

Buffy honestly thought she saw sincerity in those soulless eyes, and that scared her more than anything else about the whole business. She jumped to her feet. "I want another drink. Do you want another drink? Cause I definitely do."

"I'll get them," Spike offered.

"No." Buffy waved at him to stay in his seat. "You got them last time. Let me do this. Is a Coke okay with you?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and pushed her way up to the bar, where she placed the order. The drinks appeared in front of her moments later, too soon. She still hadn't decided.

Buffy glanced back toward the table. She couldn't see it through the throngs of people. Which meant Spike couldn't see her, either. She fingered the vial. It wouldn't be very difficult to pour the contents into the drink. It was a small vial and she could do it so quickly no one would notice.

If she did it, she'd be betraying Spike, a little voice inside her head reminded her.

If she didn't do it, she'd never know the truth for sure, another little voice responded.

Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, Buffy yanked the vial out of her pocket and deposited the contents into Spike's drink. Then she picked up the glasses, being sure to keep track of which one contained the potion. According to Willow's instructions, all she had to do was get it to Spike, wait until he drank it, and then ask him any questions she wanted with a guarantee of receiving honest responses. It seemed like such an easy assignment, as long as she kept the emotional aspect out of it. Like, how Spike would feel if he realized what she had done. But Buffy firmly blocked that thought from her mind, determined to go through with the plan.

She proceeded back to the table and handed Spike the glass in her right hand. "There you go. Drink up." Buffy then sat down and gulped half of her drink before pausing. Spike, however, hadn't taken the hint, and his glass remained untouched in front of him. "Don't you like Coke?"

"It's fine." As Buffy watched, Spike picked up the glass and took a few swallows.

'Keep going,' she mentally urged him. The sooner he finished it off, the sooner the potion would kick in and she would be able to uncover the truth. Then she probably wouldn't have a single reason to feel guilty. Actually, by the time she was finished she would probably have at least a dozen solid reasons to be grateful she'd gone through with the scheme. Over the next 15 minutes, Buffy made idle chatter and practically willed Spike to finish up the drink. When he finally did, she breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Spike looked sharply at her. "What's that about?"

"Nothing," Buffy said quickly. "Nothing at all."

The band onstage started to play a new song. "Want to dance?" Spike suggested.

"No, I'm a little tired," Buffy lied. "Long day at school and all that. Can we just talk?"

"Sure."

Spike seemed perfectly satisfied with that suggestion, and Buffy's hopes rose. If she could start slowly by asking him a relatively innocent question, she should be able to tell if the potion had taken effect and move on to the more pressing issues. She began with a mild enough mention of an event from earlier that same day. "I was surprised to find out you were a poet, Spike. It doesn't seem like a very vamp-like hobby."

He looked away. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"But I want to know more," Buffy pressed.

Though he still appeared reluctant to discuss the topic, Spike gave in. "I started back when I was a human. Wrote the most bloody awful poetry you could ever imagine. It's embarrassing even to think about it."

"The one you wrote in comp class was nice," Buffy pointed out.

Spike shook his head. "It didn't say what I wanted it to, but I keep practicing. Might get there someday."

"Bet you wanted to kill Dr. Petrovski for reading it in front of the entire class. And I mean literally kill, not figuratively."

"Yeah. I could almost taste the blood flowing down my throat," Spike rhapsodized, a dreamy look on his face. "It would have been delicious--hot and rich and strong."

That settled it; the potion was working. Spike wouldn't have dared to be so straightforward otherwise, considering that he'd been making every effort to hide his cold-blooded, murderous side from Buffy. Satisfied, she jumped ahead to the most vital subject--the issue of Spike's invincibility. "So, going back to those memorable, not-so-long-ago days when I wanted nothing more than to stake you out of existence, there's something I want to know. It made no sense that I wasn't able to dust you that day in the woods when I found out you were back in town. I definitely tried hard enough. Let's face it, you shouldn't have been able to survive both the staking and the sun. How'd you do it?"

"Gem of Amara," Spike promptly replied.

"Giles mentioned that possibility," Buffy recalled. "But you haven't been wearing a ring or any other jewelry that I can see, and we figured that couldn't be the answer. So where *is* this gem?"

Spike pointed to his chest. "Inside here. All it took was an incision and tucking it away. I'm not stupid, you know. If I wore the ring on one of my fingers, all anyone would have to do is pull it straight off to defeat me. But no one would ever guess it's buried in me."

'Clever,' Buffy acknowledged to herself. Of course, now that she knew the truth, Spike's plot was shot to pieces. Not giving him the slightest insight into her thoughts, she continued. "There's another thing about you that surprised me. The average vampire--all right, every single other vampire except Angel--wants to kill me, but you say you're in love with me. How did that come about? Did you just wake up one day and say, 'Hey, I'm in love with the Slayer and I have to go send her anonymous gifts to soften her up'?"

"It didn't go down that way," Spike answered. "Actually, Drusilla tipped me off. It wasn't exactly the news I wanted to hear at the time, but she was right."

"You haven't had any doubts? No second guessing, even when I tried to stake you, and told you to go away, and threatened you?"

"We're meant to be together. I know it, and you do, too. Even if you won't admit it yet."

Spike was unshakable in his faith. He truly did love her. Buffy took a moment to absorb that knowledge and her feelings of guilt resurfaced with a vengeance, until she thought of a question Spike was sure to blow. He had already told her he hadn't been killing, but he'd made that claim prior to taking the truth potion. His answer post-potion was bound to be much different. "Spike, the fact remains, you're a vampire. You kill people. You must have drained dozens since you came back to Sunnydale."

Spike shook his head. "Like I said before, not even one. I've fantasized about it, but that's different from the doing of it. And it's possible to drink without killing, you know. Most of us vamps don't bother to restrain ourselves, but we can."

"And you have?"

"Well, yeah." Spike's tone implied that his answer was the only possible one.

"But what about all your minions? Where did they come from?"

Spike shrugged. "Strays who needed a leader. Dime a dozen. I don't need to bother to turn anyone. Plenty of other vamps do it for me."

Again, Buffy felt that uncomfortably crushing sensation of guilt. She attempted to shrug it off, though, and asked, "Why have you held off on the killing, when it's in your nature?"

"'Cause every time I went out to hunt I thought about how you would feel if I offed a human, and I couldn't bring myself to do it."

Wow. She was seriously influencing Spike. Who knew? Still... "It can't be quite that simple. I bet you'd like to kill Xander sometimes, for instance."

"Of course I would. What self-respecting vampire wouldn't? That idiot is one of the most annoying, self-righteous twits I have ever had the misfortune to know. But he's also your friend and you would be upset if he died, so it's fangs off no matter how much I dislike him. Your other friends are all right, though, for humans."

"You don't mean any harm to me or them?"

"Haven't done any yet, have I? Won't in the future, either. Are you forgetting how I helped save the bunch of them at the Halloween party?"

No, she hadn't forgotten. Buffy had to face the facts: Spike was telling the truth, and she and the rest of the gang had seriously misjudged him. She couldn't help feeling sick to her stomach at the thought.

*****

Spike violently shook his head and struggled to pull himself together. He felt like he was coming out of a fog. The last thing he knew, he had been at the Bronze. And then his memories blurred. He looked across the table at Buffy. They were still in the Bronze, and she was pale and shaken. In fact, she looked like she was about to throw up.

Before he could become too concerned about her condition, Spike slowly, steadily began to recall all the probing questions she had asked him. At the time, it had seemed so natural to give complete, honest answers, but now it felt so wrong. He wouldn't willingly have told her all about the Gem of Amara. Not yet, when Buffy still so obviously didn't completely trust him and the truth could lead to his downfall. But he had. Without any logical reason.

Only one likely possibility came to mind: The Slayer had somehow tricked him into giving away his secrets. She had been using him all along, pretending to be nice just to worm information out of him. Spike stared straight at her and saw realization dawn in her eyes. She knew that he knew, and she was bracing herself for his reaction. He couldn't believe it. Buffy had pretended to be friendly and then betrayed him. What had he done to deserve that kind of treatment? Well, admittedly, he'd earnestly endeavored to kill her multiple times back when he still hated her, but that was all in the past. He had changed. He thought she'd realized that by now. But no, clearly not. She apparently didn't care about anything except tormenting him and permanently getting him out of her life.

He shook his head again, attempting to clear it, and his gaze fell on the empty glass in front of him. Buffy had insisted on getting him a drink. She hadn't even waited long enough to hear what kind he'd wanted; she'd just bolted away from the table to go fetch it. At the time, he'd assumed she was simply nervous. Now, he suspected a far more sinister reason. Buffy must have drugged his drink. The very thought that she would go that far, especially after her own disturbing experience with Parker Abrams, struck to Spike's heart. And he'd thought he had a chance with Buffy. He had been deluding himself all along.

"Well, now I know exactly where I stand, don't I," he snapped. Without waiting for an answer, Spike rose and swiped the table with his hand, sending it flying into the wall. With one final look at Buffy's shocked face, he turned and strode out of the Bronze. As he expected, Buffy made no move to follow him.

*****

Numbly, Buffy sat frozen in her chair, even though the table that had once stood in front of her was lying smashed against the wall. Around her, voices rose and startled exclamations echoed, but none of them registered in her brain. All she could think about was the betrayed expression on Spike's face. There was no doubt that he knew exactly what she had done.

When she had gathered her wits enough, she got up and slunk out of the Bronze, wishing she could take back the entire evening. Or at least rewind it to the point before she drugged Spike's drink. That was the moment the night took a decidedly disastrous turn. She should have listened to her conscience and not done it, no matter what Xander or Giles would have said.

And thinking of Xander and Giles, she had to report back to them and Willow. They were waiting at Giles' apartment to hear from her. Buffy was tempted to blow off the meeting, seeing that her emotional state wasn't the steadiest, but her friends would worry if she didn't show up. Likewise, if she phoned to say she wouldn't be showing up. She'd have to talk to them, keep the discussion short, and leave as soon as they'd let her.

Arriving on Giles' doorstep, Buffy took a deep breath, tapped once on the door, and pushed it open. The second she stepped inside the apartment, Xander spotted her.

"Buffy! What happened? We've been on pins and needles waiting to find out."

Giles and Willow hurried over from the direction of the kitchen.

"Do sit down," Giles urged.

"Here. By me." Willow led Buffy over to the couch and settled down beside her. "So? We've been dying to hear the news."

Oh." Actually, Buffy hadn't really considered what she should tell her friends. The entire truth, holding back no details? Or a carefully edited version, reporting only the facts and leaving out her feelings of guilt and doubt? She decided to start with the factual version. "I used the potion on Spike and it worked."

"Good, good," Giles applauded. "And what did you discover?"

"His feelings for me are genuine."

"Eww." Xander made a gagging sound. "So what I did *not* want to hear."

Buffy glared at him. "You would have preferred that Spike said he was using me for some sinister purpose instead of saying that he loved me?"

"Basically, yeah, but you make it sound like a crap reason."

"Maybe it is," she murmured.

"What was that?" Giles asked.

Buffy raised her voice. "Nothing. Anyway, Spike also said he isn't going around killing."

"Now, that *had* to be a lie," Xander complained. "In fact, it's doing cartwheels and screaming it's a lie right in front of me."

Buffy shook her head. "No lie. He drinks from people, but he stops before they die."

"Oh, and that makes it all right, then. Because everyone loves to be used as a drinking fountain."

"I didn't say that. I just said he hasn't been killing."

"Unusual," Giles mused, "but certainly possible. Do go on."

"Like, say, to the secret of Spike's invincibility?" Xander prodded. "We're all dying to hear it, and once we do, believe me, Spike will be dying for real. I'll be happy to stake him myself."

Buffy hesitated. Xander clearly wanted nothing more than to use the knowledge against Spike. He wouldn't just let the matter drop. Could she live with herself if she told Xander the truth and he went out and harmed Spike?

"Buffy?" Giles' concerned voice interrupted her thoughts. "Is something wrong? You did question Spike about his invulnerability?"

She had to offer an explanation or the gang would really start to wonder. "Yes, I did. He, um, he told me...." She stopped again. She couldn't do it. "He told me the invincibility came from a ritual he performed, and it's permanent. It can't be broken or retracted or whatever."

"Dammit!" Xander shouted.

"But Spike also said he has no intention of hurting any of us. Even you, Xander." Buffy looked pointedly at him.

Giles frowned. "Did he say anything else?"

"That's pretty much it. The effects of the potion didn't last as long as I expected. I thought it was supposed to go for a few hours, but I got maybe 10 minutes out of it."

Willow blushed. "I guess I must have measured the ingredients wrong or something. But it worked out anyway, right? I mean, you asked Spike all the important questions."

"Yeah, all the important questions."

Giles and Xander quizzed Buffy a bit more on the events of that night, but she couldn't relate any additional information. Except, of course, for the truth about the Gem of Amara, and she had no intention of passing on that knowledge to anyone else. Spike's safety hung in the balance.

When she grew tired of the repeated questioning, Buffy made a show of checking her watch. "Wow, look at the time. And I haven't even patrolled yet tonight. I'd better get on that right away."

Xander rose, too. "I have to go, too. I was supposed to meet Anya if things went all right here. Unless you need my help on patrol?"

"No, I can handle it," Buffy dismissed him.

Willow stopped her from leaving. "Mind if I tag along?"

"Sure, come on. I'd like the company."

They left Giles' place, with Xander going to see Anya while Willow and Buffy began checking out the nearest graveyard. After several moments of silence, Willow cleared her throat.

"Why so quiet, Buffy? Did something go wrong tonight?"

Buffy stopped walking. "Did something go wrong? I guess you could say that. I didn't want to trick Spike, but I felt like I had to so I could know the truth once and for all. At first it went okay. He was answering my questions and he didn't realize what I'd done. But then he came out of the trance or whatever and he looked at me and he *knew*. He was so upset."

"He didn't hit you or anything, did he?"

"No. He did push the table into the wall, but he didn't lay a finger on me. He looked like he was too disgusted to."

"Oh." Willow bit her lip. "I should tell you, the real reason I mixed up the potion for you wasn't so we could find out Spike's secrets for the safety of the group. It was so you could know if he was being honest about his feelings for you. I guess my plan backfired, huh?"

Buffy stared at her friend. "Willow, are you saying you're on Spike's side?"

"Kind of. I mean, now that you know he's sincere you can work things out, right?"

"Are you forgetting the fact that Spike's a vampire?"

Willow shrugged. "I figure since I'm dating a werewolf, I'm not in much of a position to judge. Besides, you could do way worse than Spike. Like Parker, for instance. Remember, Spike stopped killing because of you. He quit doing something that's part of his nature. That says a lot right there."

"Great, now I feel even worse." Buffy leaned against a tombstone and considered. "What should I do next?"

Willow offered, "You can either forget the whole thing and hope Spike leaves you alone from now on, or you can apologize to him next time you see him and pick up from there."

"Right. Thanks." They continued the patrol with Buffy deep in thought. The pervasive feeling of guilt ended up keeping her awake for a long time that night.

*****

After the disastrous encounter with Buffy on Monday night, Spike lost no time in reevaluating his situation. He had tried his hardest and he had gotten basically nowhere. And he'd been called many things in his day, but never stupid. It was time to make some big changes in his life. Soon Buffy wouldn't have him to kick around anymore.

He stormed back to his headquarters and flung open the door. "Everyone! Come over here, now!"

Within moments, the majority of the pack had surrounded Spike and was receiving his instructions. Some minions were to locate the ones who had gone out hunting and bring them back. Others were to begin packing up their belongings. The rest were to go ahead to the new base Spike had selected and make sure it was ready for the big move.

"Hey! You!" Spike pointed to a dawdling minion who had managed to get on his nerves within the first minute. "Bring me that chair. Not the plastic one; the wooden one." The minion hesitated, and then slowly retrieved the item. Spike smashed it on the floor, selected a jagged piece of wood, and rammed it into the other vampire's heart. After the explosion of dust cleared, he announced, "That's what happens when you don't move fast enough. All of you, *go*!"

The room was cleared before he could count to 10. For the next few hours, Spike remained downstairs to supervise. He only had to dust two more minions during that period, which wasn't too bad. The others, fearful of their master's dismal mood, scurried about gathering up and toting out all boxes of supplies that had been deemed too important to merely abandon in the warehouse. Eventually, the last room to be cleared out was his own. Spike had ordered that no else one enter it. He had definite plans for the remaining contents.

He loped up the stairs and into the room, positioning a large cardboard box in the center of the floor. Then he began throwing items into it: poems, sketches, photos, anything that reminded him of Buffy. He topped off the box with his composition textbook and assignments. He thought he had everything. One more check of the room and he would able to leave, forever. Then Spike's eyes fell on an envelope lying on the floor. He had never opened it, but it contained the prize he had won at the Halloween costume contest. He snatched it up and added it to the pile. Satisfied that he had collected everything he needed, Spike grabbed the box and lugged it out, leaving his room for the last time.

*****

On Tuesday, despite patrolling for an extra hour, Buffy saw no signs of Spike. She proceeded to composition class on Wednesday with the hope that he would at least show up there. She even turned up early in case he did, too. But as class began, no Spike was present. Buffy clung to the possibility that he might come in late, but no such luck. She slumped low in her seat and prepared to wait out the hour until the instructor dismissed the class and she could retreat to the privacy of her dorm room.

"All right, class, you all have your papers ready, right?" Buffy glanced down at the theme she had thrown together the previous night. "Good. I'm going to put you in pairs so you can read and evaluate each other's work. We have Erin Andrews and Amber Bast; Tim Black and Chris Broski; Rick--"

Buffy tuned out the words, absently fiddling with her pen. She'd love to simply walk out of class rather than endure the full hour, but she was trapped.

"William Stafford and Buffy Summers," Dr. Petrovski continued.

Buffy's head snapped up. Had Spike entered when she wasn't looking? She wildly checked around the room, only to realize that he was still nowhere to be seen. She sank back into her seat, willing the time to pass quickly. Instead, every minute felt more like an hour. Buffy had never been more glad to escape from a classroom when the time finally came. She bolted outside and nearly collided with Willow, who was lurking in the hallway.

Steadying herself against the wall, Willow eagerly demanded. "Did you get a chance to talk to Spike?"

Buffy shook her head. "He wasn't in class today. He obviously didn't want to see me."

"Oh." Willow looked thoughtful. "Well, you know, it's only been a couple days. I bet he shows up on Friday."

"You think so? Why?"

"Spike's stubborn. He doesn't give up easily."

The more Buffy thought about it, the more convinced she became that Willow was right. Spike was definitely mad at her, but he was bound to turn up on Friday. Then she would have an opportunity to apologize and explain her actions. And who knew? She might even run into him on patrol before then.

For the next two days, Buffy kept extra alert for any trace of Spike. She saw none, which was disappointing, but she knew her big shot would come on Friday. He would turn up in class. He had to. That day, she waited until the last minute and then entered the room with a strong feeling of confidence. She paused inside the doorway and the other students' faces, looking for Spike first so she could sit by him. No Spike... no Spike... no Spike... She finished the last row and he wasn't there, again!

"Buffy, will you be joining us today or are you just going watch us all hour?"

Dr. Petrovski and her classmates were staring. Buffy stared back. She wasn't going to waste her time listening to another boring lecture. Not today. She turned on her heel and fled.

Spike was more than just a little angry, she had no doubt now. He must be furious. So much for waiting for him to come to her. She had to see him as soon as possible to try to straighten out the situation. Textbooks and all, Buffy darted across campus and proceeded at top speed toward Spike's lair. She'd only been there once, the night Parker had drugged her and Spike had rescued her, but she remembered the way with no trouble. Spike was probably there. Or if he had gone out his minions should all be home, trapped by the daylight. She would make one of them tell her where she could find Spike. Within the hour, they would have discussed and resolved matters.

A few minutes later, Buffy arrived outside the grimy warehouse. She threw her books down and shoved the door open, a little surprised that it wasn't locked. The inside of the place was both dark and disturbingly empty-looking. In fact, *too* empty-looking. Odds and ends of furniture lay scattered about, like they had been shoved around by someone who was in a hurry. And then she saw it. In the middle of the cement floor stood a large pile of ashes and charred bits of whatever had been burnt.

With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Buffy crept closer to the remains. She identified the spine of Spike's composition textbook, the metal spiral of his notebook, and his handwriting on a scrap of paper that had escaped the carnage. It was another poem about her. Spike had burnt it. To be more precise, Spike had apparently burnt anything that had any connection to her.

The inescapable conclusion? Spike wanted nothing more to do with her.

*****

Almost a full week had passed since Spike had last seen Buffy. In that time, he had moved his home base to an abandoned mansion that was several steps superior to his old location. It wasn't the mansion on Crawford Street, though. Spike couldn't have received a bribe big enough to compel him to live there. No, this mansion was a place of his own choosing, on the opposite side of town. It had recently been inhabited by a family of Fyarl demons, but with some persuasion they'd moved out, whereupon Spike and his pack had taken up residence.

Sure, he could have left town to lick his wounds. Instead, Spike had chosen to stay in Sunnydale, at least for the time being. He wasn't going to allow Buffy to rule his life anymore. She no longer exerted any influence over his actions. Except for the fact that he never wanted to see her again, and thus avoided any place she was known to frequent. That primarily meant the college, the Bronze, and the cemeteries. So far, he had been successful in keeping away from her.

Of course, if Buffy wanted to find him, she shouldn't have any real trouble. News traveled fast on the demon grapevine. All she would have to do was demand the information from Willy. But Spike hadn't seen a trace of her since Monday night. Her absence just proved what he had already figured out: Buffy had been using him, and once she got what she wanted it was goodbye, Spike, hello... well, hello, anyone else, for all he knew. The situation was hardly fair.

Spike had no doubt that Buffy had instantly reported back to her friends with every single word he had spoken after drinking the truth potion. They knew it all, including his most damaging secret: the existence and location of the Gem of Amara. They could take him down. It would be easy for them. All they had to do was catch him and dig open his chest in their search for the Gem. Once it was removed, a quick stake to the heart would dust him. And dusting him must have been Buffy's objective all along.

Yes, Spike was going stir crazy waiting for her little gang to come after him. Why hadn't they made their move yet? After all, Buffy had gotten what she wanted. All of his secrets and his pathetic, emasculating feelings for her were laid out in the open. He wondered how many hours she and her friends had spent laughing at him and his stupidity.

He couldn't take the suspense anymore. He had to find out what they were plotting and when they would strike. It had been almost seven full days since that awful night when they had learned the truth. They must be drawing out the attack just to torture him, to try to make him break. Instead, Spike was going to take the fight to them.

He set out from the mansion into the morning sun, making up his plan as he proceeded. Buffy and Willow would be on campus in classes today. Oz and Anya were potentially anywhere. That left Giles and Xander, who were his biggest threats anyway, aside from the Slayer. If a plot to dust him existed, Giles would be the mastermind behind it and Xander would be its biggest proponent. Spike knew he stood little chance of intimidating Giles or persuading him to give up any details, but Xander was a different story. He was the weak link. All Spike had to do was make his way to Harris' house, catch him alone without his precious friends to protect him, and frighten the truth out of him.

Through his stalking of Buffy, Spike knew exactly where Xander lived. He had taken up residence in the basement of his parents' house. He also had been proceeding through a succession of crappy part-time jobs and might even be in between gigs at the moment. In short, the likelihood was that he was home. Arriving outside the house, Spike noted a rust trap of an old car parked in front. It had "Xander" written all over it.

The stumbling block was his entrance into the house. Spike had no invitation. But fortune was smiling down upon him. As he walked toward the front door, it opened and a woman who looked about the proper age to be Xander's mum stepped outside, evidently preparing to leave.

Taking a chance, Spike greeted her. "Hello, Mrs. Harris. I'm calling to see Xander like we arranged the other day, if that's all right."

"Oh. Well, go on in." She moved away back from the door, having given Spike the invitation he needed. "Xander's in the basement."

Spike smiled. "Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciate this." He entered the house and waited until the woman had driven away in her own ratty car before he listened for heartbeats. The only one in the building came from the basement. Perfect. He had Xander all to himself.

Spike trotted down the basement stairs and emerged into the dim, unpleasant little space. It was about the sort of place he'd imagined Harris having, all right. Only, where was his victim? Spike glanced around. There! Emerging through a doorway at the far end of the room was Xander. Spike grinned and waited patiently for the idiot to spot him.

It took a good 10 seconds, when Xander had crossed the room to his TV set, before he noticed the intruder. "Ahhhh!"

Spike winced at the ear-piercing cry. "Hello to you, too, Harris."

"Spike! What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?" Xander looked around wildly.

"Your mum. Very accommodating lady."

"Um, we are talking about *my* mom, right? 'Cause it doesn't really sound like her."

"She just left the house and gave me an invite in. How convenient."

"Thanks, Mom," Xander muttered. "Of all the times to be hospitable. Well, what do you want, Spike? Or, I have an idea. Why don't you just get the hell out before I stake you?"

Spike tensed and began checking about for any sort of trap. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't be the least bit afraid of Xander, but the kid knew his secret now. In fact, Spike wouldn't put it past the idiot to try to pull a stun gun on him and capture him before yanking out the surgical knife.

But what was this? Xander was backing away and looking nervous, like he had no sort of protection at all. He was even rambling on about something. "Look, I didn't mean. And Buffy will really hate you if you decide to have one of her friends for breakfast or lunch or whatever it would be to you."

Now, this was interesting. The boy was afraid of him, and didn't seem to have the first clue as to how to take him down. A faint suspicion entered Spike's mind. Was it possible...? "What's this, Harris? I thought you were going to stake me all by yourself?"

Xander laughed nervously. "I know that isn't possible. I mean, since you're invincible and immortal and all because of that ritual you performed. I could stake you, but it wouldn't hurt you so there's no point."

"Ritual," Spike repeated, keying in on the lone word of importance amidst the babble. "What do you know about a ritual?"

"Only what Buffy told us, that you performed it and it can't be reversed and now you're undustable. I didn't really mean I was going to stake you. I wouldn't do that."

Spike didn't bother to dignify that comment with an answer. He was too busy trying to think of the best way to get the truth out of Xander. "Let me get this straight," he said, speaking very slowly and clearly so the moron couldn't possibly misunderstand him. "Last Monday after Buffy drugged me, she came back and told you and the rest of her little gang about the invincibility ritual I had performed that I told her about while under the influence of the potion. Right?"

Xander nodded. "Yes! Exactly!"

No longer interested in Harris, Spike turned and left. He had learned something very important. Xander didn't have the guile to lie to his face and get away with it. Therefore, Buffy had misled the gang about the Gem of Amara. Which meant she hadn't betrayed him. But why? Spike was curious. Too curious, he realized. He would have to pay Buffy one last visit, if only to find out why she had lied to her friends.

*****

Somehow, Buffy held things together on Monday, making it to early evening before exhaustion hit her. She flopped down on her bed and watched as Willow prepared to go out to meet Oz.

"Hey." Willow looked over at her. "You want to come with, Buffy? Oz won't mind."

"No, I'll just stay here."

Willow hesitated. "You want me to stick around and keep you company?"

"Go on," Buffy urged her friend. "I'm going to take a nap. You know I haven't been sleeping so well lately so this is a good chance to catch up. All the curtains are closed, it's pretty dark in here with the lights out, it'll be almost like night."

"All right, as long as you're sure." Willow hovered halfway to the door, undecided.

"I am." Buffy waved her away. "Go out and have a good time. I'll be fine. Won't even know you're gone."

"Okay. Bye."

Buffy waited until Willow had departed, then turned off the light and collapsed onto the bed, ready to sleep straight through to the morning. Her head had barely hit the pillow, though, when the phone rang. Buffy groaned and pulled the pillow over her head, but the shrill noise continued. Five rings, six....

She gave up and grabbed the phone, yanking it toward her without bothering to flick on a lamp. "Hello?"

"Hi, Buffy?"

"Yeah." She pushed herself into a sitting position and pressed the phone closer to her ear. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Who is this?"

"Oh, sorry. Riley. Riley Finn, Professor Walsh's T.A.?"

"Oh, no." Alarm ran through Buffy, forcing her wide awake. "Did Professor Walsh hate my latest paper? I thought I was doing so much better in that class. Do I have to meet with her or something?"

"No, nothing like that. This is personal. Me calling you. I mean, I was wondering, are you busy tonight? Or tomorrow night? Or any other night?"

"What?" She had to have misheard.

"I'm doing this all wrong. Let me start over." Riley took an audible breath and continued. "Buffy, I'd like to go out with you sometime. Whenever you're free. On a date."

"Wow." That was the last thing Buffy had expected to hear him say. She thought about the prospect for a moment and couldn't manage to work up the slightest bit of enthusiasm for the idea. "Look, Riley, that won't work out."

"Oh." His disappointment carried across the phone line. "Is it because you got back together with your ex-boyfriend?"

"Who?"

"That blonde guy with the accent. I haven't seen you two on campus together lately so I thought you broke up and I might have a chance. Am I wrong?"

"We were never really... well, we were, kind of." Buffy sighed and gave up on trying to explain her nebulous relationship with Spike.

"You broke up with him and he doesn't want you to see other men anyway? That sounds weird. Then again, Professor Walsh told me he was dangerous."

"What?" Could she possibly know Spike was a vampire?

"She'd kill me if she knew I told you this so please don't say anything, but she thinks your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, whatever, is in the mob. I know it sounds crazy but she really believes it."

Buffy started laughing hysterically, partly out of sheer relief. "Spike, in the mob? That's a good one!" After taking a few deep breaths to get herself back under control, she told Riley, "I don't know where Professor Walsh got that impression, but it's not true. And I can't go out with you. It's not you, it's me. I'm sorry."

"Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah. Goodbye." Buffy hung up the phone with a tremendous feeling of relief. Riley seemed like a decent guy, but his timing sucked. She hoped she'd let him down with the proper mixture of kindness and firmness, so he wouldn't be too disappointed but he also wouldn't call her again. She shoved the phone onto the cradle and turned to lie back down, when she spotted a dark figure just inside the doorway. Buffy couldn't help jumping in surprise. "Willow! What are you doing back so soon? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

The figure didn't reply, instead just taking another step toward her.

"You're not Willow," Buffy realized. She was about to attack first and ask questions later when the intruder flicked on the overhead light, revealing himself to be Spike.

*****

Spike studied the Slayer, who was curled up in her bed staring at him with wide eyes. Under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed the experience a lot more, but he was there to hash out a serious matter. He'd cautiously waited outside until he knew she was in her room and alone before he made his move. Buffy was getting careless; hadn't even bothered to lock the door.

Her eyes flickered to the side and then back to him. She had probably automatically been looking for a stake until she remembered that one would be useless against him. Unless, of course, she was planning a Gem of Amara retrieval operation all on her own. That was what Spike had to find out.

"Buffy," he greeted her coolly. "We have to talk."

"About what?"

Spike just looked at her. Buffy had the grace to blush, as if she realized the answer to her question was pretty obvious.

"All right, we can talk," she said, sitting up in the middle of her bed.

Not finding much of a choice, Spike pulled the wooden chair away from her desk and appropriated it for his own use. Buffy had earned herself big points by keeping his secret, but he had to find out why she'd done it. "I paid a visit to your mate Xander today."

"Huh? Why would you go to see Xander?"

"Because I don't like being tricked and left hanging. Last week you learned all my secrets and for all I knew, you could have told the world the way to dust me for good. I actually believed you *had* told your little gang. So what's a vamp to think? That the lot of you would come after him and end his unlife. But you didn't, and that made me curious. That's why I went to Xander's place. To find out why he hadn't gone stake-happy. He acted just as afraid of me as always when we're one-on-one. Said something about me still being invincible. He's not a good enough liar to fool me. He really believed what he said, which means you didn't tell him the truth about the Gem."

Buffy looked him in the eye. "No, I didn't and I don't plan to in the future."

She sounded convincing, but could he trust her? "Why not?"

"Because I tricked you and you didn't deserve to be treated that way. I made a huge mistake."

"Feeling guilty?" Spike scoffed.

"Yes," Buffy whispered.

"Good." He stood up and turned to go, perversely satisfied.

"Spike, wait!" Buffy's voice called him back.

He turned around. "What?"

"I'm sorry about the whole mess. I didn't realize it would turn out like it did and I feel bad."

Spike waited. "What do you expect me to say?"

"I don't know. Not that it's all right, 'cause I understand that it isn't, but maybe that you forgive me."

"Tell me why I should."

"What?" She stared at him. "Um, because I forgave you for trying to kill me all those times in the past?"

"Never heard those words come out of your mouth," Spike reminded her.

"They were implied."

Spike considered. "All right, I'll accept that. But my efforts to kill you were different than your tricking me. They were business. Besides, you also tried to kill me more than once, so I'd say we're even on that count."

"Can't you just accept that I'm sorry?" Buffy pressed.

"I suppose I can, seeing that you didn't tell Xander the truth about the Gem," Spike allowed before making a clever effort to dig up more information. "Unless you told someone else? Like, say, Willow or Giles?"

Buffy shook her head. "No. I made up something about a ritual you performed that made you invincible. It didn't make much sense but they believed it."

"Fine." Spike shrugged. Her story meshed with Xander's version. "Over and done with, then." He again started for the door.

This time, Buffy jumped up and ran over to stop him. "Where are you going?"

"Home. We talked, I accepted your apology, I'm leaving. That's the end of it."

"No, it isn't," Buffy insisted. "You said you loved me. You can't fall out of love just like that. I know you're mad at me. I understand that. But you can't leave things like this."

"Why not? You never once said you had any feelings for me besides disgust and hate. Seems to me I've been wasting my time on you."

"No, you haven't. All right, at first I wasn't exactly receptive, but your persistence could probably wear anyone down. It got to the point where I could actually see and admit that you have good qualities."

"So what are you saying?"

"I guess... that we can wipe the slate clean and start over?"

"Give me a minute." While Buffy waited for his response, Spike weighed his options. He'd nursed his wounded pride for a whole week. Maybe it was time to let go of it and see if they really could patch up things. Maybe Buffy would give them a chance after all. "Meet me at midnight, night after tomorrow, in Restfield Cemetery. Don't tell anyone and come alone. You do that, and we can talk."

With that, he left the dorm room. What happened next was up to Buffy.

*****

As he waited behind a crypt in Restfield Cemetery near 12 a.m. two nights later, Spike fidgeted and reached for his pack of cigarettes before remembering that he'd quit smoking. Because of Buffy. If she didn't show up, that would really prove his stupidity. And if she showed up with backup and a plan to stake him, he would look worse than stupid. Spike had already more or less convinced himself that Buffy genuinely regretted having drugged him, but the longer he stood outside alone, the more his doubts grew.

True, it wasn't yet midnight, but why hadn't she arrived already? *He* was there. Had been for nearly an hour. He always seemed to be waiting for Buffy, never sure if she would come. He was probably wasting his time. She'd given him little more than minimal encouragement even on a good day. In fact, she was probably sitting back in her dorm room laughing at the thought of the idiotic vampire who was lurking around a graveyard in the middle of the night waiting for someone who'd never had any intention of meeting him.

Spike had just about talked himself into giving up and retreating while a few shreds of his pride remained intact when he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. He peeked around the corner of the crypt, not getting his hopes up until he saw who was there. It could be another vampire, or a typically brainless Sunnydale resident just begging to be eaten.

Only when Spike looked, the person turned out to be Buffy. Of course, that fact wasn't immediate cause for celebration. First, Spike studied the area around her, hunting for signs of any other presence. He had to know if she'd come alone, like he'd requested.

Buffy's steps faltered as she reached the outskirts of the graveyard and she looked around, clearly uncertain. She stopped, paced forward a few steps, and stopped again. "Spike?"

He didn't answer, waiting to see what she would do.

"Spike!" Buffy called again, a little louder. When she again failed to receive a reply, she heaved a sigh and angled her arm in an effort to read her watch face despite the darkness.

Spike didn't hear or see anyone else in the area. Finally satisfied that Buffy was alone, he stepped out from the crypt and approached her. "Over here, Buffy."

She jumped and whirled around, visibly relaxing when she saw him. "Spike, are you going to make a habit out of startling me?"

"But you make it so easy." He crossed over to her and took her arm. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

Buffy obediently trailed him out of the graveyard and along the street, but balked when they reached the DeSoto parked around the corner. "Why did you want me to meet you out at the cemetery if we were just going to leave right away?"

"It was a test," Spike explained, opening the passenger door for her.

Buffy's voice rose in indignation. "You were testing me?" She quickly amended her statement. "All right, not that I didn't deserve it. So, I take it I passed the test?"

"If you get in the car, you will." Spike impatiently waited for Buffy to think this over and climb in, whereupon he slammed the door and went around to the driver's side.

As he started the engine, Buffy asked, "So what are you up to? Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Are we past the whole 'truth potion/big mistake' deal? I guess I should have asked you that before I got in the car."

"I figured out why you did it. You had to know. Now you do. I made a few mistakes myself, I admit. For instance, anonymous gifts probably weren't the best initial approach to take with you." Choosing to ignore Buffy's muttered, "That's for sure," Spike turned right sharply and drove the DeSoto through a narrow path in the woods, ending up in a clearing at the top of a hill. "Here we are." He parked and got out, Buffy joining him.

She looked around. "What's up here?"

"Everything." Spike gestured at the panorama of Sunnydale spread out below them. The town was mostly dark, but a few lights here and there illuminated various sections. Spike had actually planned for this moment. He pulled a blanket out of the backseat of the car and spread it on the hilltop. "Come sit down."

Buffy did, and began, "I've been thinking a lot about this. About us, or a potential us. Sometimes it seems natural, and other times it seems like the craziest thing that could happen. After all, you're still a vampire, and I'm--"

"The Slayer," Spike picked up for her, "and we're supposed to kill each other. I've heard it all before, but it doesn't always work that way. Don't you think we're both special cases?"

"Yes. In fact, before you interrupted me, I was going to say that I've changed some of my opinions about you, and I know you've changed your life for me."

"Right," Spike agreed. "I quit smoking. Didn't even take up those herbal things afterwards."

"I *meant* that you had stopped killing."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that. That's a huge deal." Buffy looked at him and added slyly, "From there, it's only a matter of weaning you over to refrigerated blood."

Spike shook his head. "That's where I draw the line. No bagged lunches for me. I drink warm, fresh, human blood straight from the source. Can't alter my basic nature *that* much."

"You can't say that for sure, Spike. You know, you're never too old to change."

"Good. I'll wait."

Sensing she was fighting a losing battle, Buffy backed down. "So like I was saying, I've been giving a potential relationship with you a lot of thought. Of course, I came up with some reasons why it wouldn't work, and--"

Spike interrupted. "Let's do it this way. You tell me all your possible objections and I'll tell you why they don't matter."

"All right. For starters, Xander definitely won't like it."

"Luv, Xander will probably never approve of anyone you date unless it's him, so stow that objection."

"Well, Xander would vote a definite *no*, but I figured out we have more support than I would have expected. For some reason, Willow approves of you. Plus, Oz will go along with her. And Anya, well, Anya won't care what we do, but that's better than being against it. That means we already have a majority opinion in support of us. Or at least neutral to the idea. On my side, anyway. What about *your*...friends?" Buffy ventured, referring to the vampires under Spike's command.

"My minions?" Spike waved a dismissive hand. "Won't matter what they think, seeing that they'll be dust soon. Stupid--the whole lot of 'em. Do you have any idea how long it took them to get cable TV installed in my lair?"

"So much for loyalty."

"You'd dust 'em if I didn't," Spike pointed out, which was so obviously true that Buffy didn't even bother to argue with him. "Next objection?"

"Different ways of life," Buffy brought up. "You've traveled all over, and I'm stuck monitoring the Hellmouth. You do vampire things all night and I do Slayer things. Our lives don't exactly mesh."

"I don't mind settling down for a while. As for the 'vampire things' I do, I can get my violence out by helping you on patrol. What else?"

"Um...." Buffy hesitated.

"That's it? We're done?"

"Wait!" Buffy blurted. "My mom..."

"Likes me," Spike finished smugly. Okay, so she had probably liked him a lot more when he wasn't dating her daughter, but surely he'd win her over to his side. "So? Anything else standing in our way?"

*****

Buffy had already touched on their main problems, and Spike had pretty much cleared them away. Still, she almost couldn't believe she was holding this sort of conversation with him. As recently as three months ago, she would have laughed herself sick at the very thought of being even the least bit friendly with Spike ever again.

Speaking of Spike, he was waiting for an answer to his question. "Well?"

"I think we've about covered things."

"Have I convinced you it can work?" Spike prompted.

Buffy hesitated before answering. If she said no, she could go back to her Spike-less college life. She no longer had any doubts that he would leave town if she told him to. In many ways, things would be a lot simpler if he was gone. On the other hand, she could say yes and they could try to make a go of it. She looked at Spike and found she really didn't have a choice to make. It had probably been inevitable from the day he'd returned to Sunnydale.

She shook her head. "I don't know exactly when or how you did it, Spike, but you won me over. My life hasn't been normal ever since I was called. Why try to change that now?"

"And that means...?"

He looked uncertain, so Buffy helped him along. "Come here, Spike." She pulled him down into a kiss, a move he definitely understood, judging from his enthusiastic reaction.

After an enjoyable few moments, Spike finally leaned back and looked at Buffy. "You're sure, then? No backing out? No more obstacles?"

"Just one," Buffy decided. "Giles is going to throw a fit! But who cares?"

end