DISCLAIMER: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" is copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Mutant Enemy Productions. I retain rights to the plot, but not the characters. This story is meant for enjoyment purposes only. No infringement is intended.

AUTHOR: Kate

SYNOPSIS: AU: Sequel to "Atonement." Set one year after Spike, Buffy and the gang defeated Fen. A new evil hits town that threatens to tear the Scoobies apart from the inside.

A/N: You don’t have to have read Atonement to enjoy this but there are references made to it.

TO CATCH A FOX

Prologue

Moonlight filtered through the trees, its silvery glow casting dappled shadows on the ground as a young woman sauntered through the darkened cemetery at a leisurely pace. With each step, her dark green sundress swirled around her ankles and her curly, burnt orange coloured hair bounced slightly.

Moving with an easy grace, she paused every now and then to bend over and read a headstone before carrying on her unhurried way.

Nearing the middle of the graveyard, she came to a church and stopped. The state of ruin told her that it had not been used for many years. Windows were broken, probably by vandals, and the glass was still laying shattered on the ground. The wooden door looked rotten, it's brown paint weathered and peeling, a green mould clinging to the edges.

Walking up to the door, the woman pushed against it and stepped inside. The musty smell of damp and dirt assailed her nose but she ignored both to look eagerly around. The pews were intact as was the altar but everything else had been stripped from the place leaving a feeling of desertion…not only by the people, but also by God himself.

"Perfect," she commented with a grin.

Heading up the aisle, she glanced upwards and saw a couple of large holes in the ceiling that hadn't withstood the test of time or weather. Not at all bothered by that fact, she reached the altar then turned to the left and entered the small antechamber that all churches of any age seemed to have.

The room was of a reasonable size and dry, its only furniture an extremely dusty table and chair. Checking the ceiling, she saw there were no holes and her smile widened in satisfaction.

"This will do nicely," she said to herself. With a last look around, she gave a nod then left.

Back outside in the warm night, she walked through the gravestones with new purpose. As she neared the exit, she heard a twig snap behind her and turned around to see a man standing a short distance away, his dishevelled clothes covered in clumps of dirt and grass.

"What do you want?" she asked, fearfully taking a step back.

Her answer was a feral growl as the man suddenly ran towards her and lunged. In anticipation of food, he allowed his demon to emerge, his face rippling and fangs elongating as he prepared to strike. Only, when it reached to spot where the woman had been standing he stopped in surprise. She wasn't there anymore. Instead, in her place, stood a larger than normal sized fox, eyeing him curiously.

Gold eyes met amber as they stared at each other until the vampire gave a roar and attempted to grab the creature in front of him. Blood was blood and he was hungry.

He'd barely taken a step when the fox quickly turned and brought its long tail around to whack it against the vampires' leg. With a howl of pain, the demon looked down and saw that his legs were on fire. As he ineffectually tried to pat the flames out, he let out another shriek of agony as his hands caught alight.

In front of him, the fox sat down and rapidly transformed back into the woman. Standing up, she watched the flames engulf the vampire entirely, his cries of pain abruptly ceasing when he suddenly crumbled to dust.

Sighing, the woman gave the pile of ash a pitying shake of the head then turned away. "Fledglings are such a waste of time," she muttered to herself as she exited the cemetery. Coming to a stop, she tilted her head to the side and listened intently for a moment. Hearing the distant sounds of music, a smile spread across her face and she turned towards it.

Time to see what entertainment there was to be had on the Hellmouth.

TBC in chapter 1…

A/N: Thanks for the reviews - not much you can say about the Prologue, I know, and I appreciate the effort - nice to know people want to read a second one by me, LOL! Also, I'm sorry for the initial muck up with the Prologue - I also posted some of chapter 1 but that was a mistake and this is the now the complete chapter. Hope you all like it and feedback is very welcome!

Chapter 1 – Married Life, Trouble and Strife

Spike sat in the back of Willy’s bar and refilled his shot glass from a newly opened bottle of whisky. Bringing the glass to his lips he swallowed the contents in one go, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid smoothly down his throat before putting the glass back on the table with a firm thud. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair and casually looked around the bar.

Demons of all shapes and sizes were dotted about the place chatting and drinking, all blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that gripped the bleached blond vampire in the corner.

"Tosser's," he muttered bitterly as he poured and downed another drink. Picking up the bottle to immediately refill the glass, he looked at it and paused then replaced the top and stowed it in his coat pocket. He had a feeling he was going to need the dulling effects of the liquor much more later that night.

Right after Buffy dumped him to be exact.

Desolation at that thought had him almost reach into his pocket again but he resisted the urge and tried to force himself to stand up and go to her house where they'd arranged to meet the previous night.

It was Halloween and he couldn't help but smile at the memory of the year before when he and Buffy had made love for the first time. Ironic then, that they should part on the same day…or maybe just really bad timing. Either way, from now on, this day would always be bittersweet…having the very best and very worst of meanings. Unlife was such a bitch.

He sighed and moved around the table, heading for the exit. If he were honest, he'd been dreading this would happen ever since they'd become a couple. Even after a year together there were still times that he couldn't quite believe that he was with the woman he loved. And that she loved him back…at least she did…until a couple of weeks ago.

That's when he'd first noticed that something was wrong. Little things, like avoiding his gaze and blushing or abruptly putting the phone down to some mysterious caller whenever he entered the room. Whispered conversations with the two witches and covert glances over at him when they thought he wasn't paying attention.

But he was, and each time it happened, it cracked his aching heart open a little more.

It seemed as if every night he was waiting for the axe to fall and each night it didn't, he took her in his arms and loved her as if it was the last time. The previous evening, however, he'd sensed a change. There was an edge about her, a barely suppressed urgency that screamed of something big…and he'd known. This was it. She'd finally found the courage.

He was within a few feet of the exit when it suddenly burst open and Willow and Tara hurried in, each one a study in worried concern as their eyes sought out and locked with his.

"What’s wrong?" he demanded, his stomach clenching in sudden fear. "Is it Dawn? Has something happened to her?"

"No, Dawnie’s fine," Willow assured him hastily. "It’s Buffy. She’s gone after a vamp nest in Rosewood ceme…" A blur of black and blond rushed past her and was out the door before she’d even finished her sentence. "…tery." She turned to her girlfriend in wide-eyed amusement. "Wow, he reacted a darn sight quicker than last time."

Tara giggled and nodded in agreement. "Amazing how total adoration shaves a couple of seconds off reaction times."

"Yeah, I just hope Buffy's already got everything prepared," Willow commented as she grabbed Tara's hand and led her out of the bar.

"I think where Spike's concerned, Buffy's always prepared," Tara responded wryly. The witches shared another laugh then headed home to have a cosy night in themselves.

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"I'll be right back, honey," Anya informed her husband as she gave him a quick kiss and disappeared into the crowd on her way to the powder room.

With a smile, Xander Harris watched his wife negotiate her way through the throng of people on The Bronze's dance floor and leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. Life was good.

Their wedding had gone, surprisingly, without a hitch. Even his dysfunctional family hadn’t caused any problems…although he had his suspicions that Buffy and Spike had had something to do with that.

They hadn’t ever admitted to it, but the vampire had definitely run interference between his father and the bar while the slayer had kept the peace within Anya’s more demon type guests. He smiled. There had been a lot of ‘skin problem’ and ’rare disease’ excuses flying about that day. It always amazed him how people readily believed an outlandish story rather than just accepting what their eyes were telling them.

Denial…a land he'd been very, very familiar with himself over the years.

Reaching for his beer, took a sip and thought back over the last seven months of his married life. The honeymoon had been fantastic, the small detail that they'd come back paler than when they'd left was testament to the fact.

A grin appeared on his face as he remembered what they'd got up to…his wife was nothing, if not adventurous when came to the bedroom. He'd never been so satisfied and the rest of their life together was just as gratifying. True, they had the odd argument and she could still manage to embarrass the hell out of him when it came to her forthrightness but, that was just all part and parcel of why he loved her so much.

For, perhaps, the thousandth time that day, he gave thanks for whatever force saw fit to give him Anya. She really was one in a million and now they were happily settled, he knew he'd never look at anyone else.

"Hot damn!" he suddenly exclaimed, sitting up straighter as the crowd in front of him parted to reveal a vision of loveliness dancing alone.

Arms above her head, the young woman gyrated her slim hips slowly to the throbbing beat of the music, her olive green mini dress hugging her body like a second skin. Head thrown back, her vibrant auburn hair cascaded down her back in a riot of curls. Eyes closed, she seemed oblivious to anything but the pounding rhythm as she ran her tongue along her slightly parted, coral painted lips.

Xander swallowed hard and set his beer back on the table with a heavy thump. "I'm a married man, I'm a married man," he reminded himself over and over as his gaze roamed over every inch of the woman's delectable skin that was on show.

Dragging his eyes back to her face, he saw that she was now staring back at him with an appreciative smile and knowing look. "Hi," she mouthed, her movements becoming even more seductive as she brought her arms down and ran her hands along the length of her body.

Xander gulped and smiled back nervously, his eyes widening slightly as the woman then began to walk towards him. A movement to his left had him glance around to see Anya heading back to the table and his eyes widened even further.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!

Panic began to rise as he realised he'd been flirting and Anya was going to catch him. Having over a thousand years worth of revenge, 'woman scorned' style to her name, she never missed anything remotely sexual between people and she would so roast his balls over a naked flame when they got home.

Standing up, he determinedly kept his focus on his wife and walked over to her, pulling her into a fierce kiss.

"What was that for?" she asked, a little breathlessly when he relinquished her mouth.

"Do I need a reason to kiss my beautiful wife?" Xander countered charmingly.

"Well…no," Anya concurred with a smile.

"Good, then let's go home. Halloween…night off, remember? Why waste it by being here when we could be doing better things?"

"But you’re the one that wanted to come," she pointed out reasonably.

"And now I'm the one who wants you all to myself tonight," he coaxed, turning her around so that they could head for the exit.

"Okay." She grinned up at him happily and he pushed down the feelings of guilt enough to return a passably happy smile of his own. As she looked away, Xander threw a quick peek over his shoulder and saw that the woman was staring after him. Seeing his glance, the woman blew him a kiss then smiled provocatively as she raised her hand and gave him a brief wave. The carpenter immediately looked away then, ignoring the urge cast one last glance back, guided Anya out of the club and into the night.

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Spike entered the cemetery at a sprint, his game face out in full force. Without stopping, he drew in the air around him, almost immediately catching wind of Buffy’s scent. Heading in the direction it came from, he reached a crypt and burst through the door, calling her name.

"I’m right here, Spike," she said quietly. "Happy Anniversary."

The vampire turned his head to see her standing in the middle of the crypt, her smiling features softly lit up by the glow of the many candles that were dotted around.

As his golden eyes swept over the rest of the room, he noticed a blanket on the floor behind her with a wicker basket and cooler off to the side. Memories of the last time they'd been in the crypt suddenly resurfaced and he visibly relaxed, allowing his demon to recede.

"Happy Anniversary, luv," he finally replied, his blue eyes drinking in her black clad form as he slowly walked towards her. "Seems like we've been here before."

"We have. Just over a year ago, but last time you were being too cranky to enjoy it properly," his girlfriend replied as he came to a halt a couple of steps away.

An eyebrow quirked. "Oh, I think I enjoyed it well enough, luv," he disagreed mildly as his gaze flicked down her body then back up again. "And I wasn't cranky, I was being…"

"Broody?" she supplied helpfully.

"No!" he automatically replied in obvious affront.

"A poophead?"

Despite himself, Spike felt a smile tug at his lips. "Well…"

Buffy moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself flush against him. "How about, you were just being a little frustrating but at the same time incredibly sensitive?"

His arms found their way around her waist and held her tightly to him as he gently brushed his lips against hers. "Actually, I think poophead’s a better description," he mumbled before leaning in and kissing her harder.

She returned the kiss enthusiastically then abruptly pulled back and, before the unsuspecting vampire could react, she flipped him neatly over her shoulder and onto the blanket. Letting out an ‘oof’ as he landed on his back, he attempted to sit up but found himself pinned by the slight weight of the Slayer as she dropped onto his middle, straddling him.

"Little minx," he muttered, enjoying the feel of her grinding down against him.

"You love it," she retorted with a shameless grin.

"Love you," he countered, unexpectedly grabbing her waist and rolling her until he was on top. "So much."

"Love you too," she gasped, tugging at his duster in order to get it off.

Rearing back onto his knees, he shrugged his coat off and whipped his T-shirt over his head before throwing it carelessly to the side. Looking down at her flushed face, he slowly bent forward until his weight was resting on his hands, either side of her head and then stilled. Despite what she'd done this evening, he still needed the reassurance that everything was okay between them. Two weeks spent convincing yourself that the love of your life was leaving you could do that to a vamp.

"So, was this what all those hush-hush chitchats with the Witches and cut off phone calls have been about then?" he asked quietly, resisting her rather forceful attempt at pulling him back down.

"You knew about that?" she queried in dismay. "Damn! And I thought I’d been so good at covering up as well. I bet you guessed something was going to happen tonight, didn’t you?"

"Something," he agreed, almost sagging from the relief that flooded his body as she unwittingly confirmed that she hadn't been going to dump him. "Not this though," he added as his gaze dropped to her slightly pouting mouth. "Don't be disappointed, love." His voice dropped an octave lower as he leaned nearer. "You got me gooooood."

Buffy felt his voice vibrate through her and let out a little groan before abruptly twisting and rolling them over until she was, once more, sitting astride his waist. "Now I do," she teased, running her hands down his chest to his jeans and deftly unbuttoning them. "And I'm not gonna let you go. Ever."

"That's fine by me, pet," the vampire replied contentedly as he lifted his hips so that she could pull his pants down easier. "Fine by me."

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Taking in a deep breath and expelling it slowly, Xander walked beside his wife only half listening to her talk about the store takings for the week. Making the appropriate noises whenever she paused, he spent the rest of the time trying to dispel the feeling that he'd somehow been unfaithful.

The woman had captivated him in a way he hadn't thought possible. Ever since he'd committed himself Anya, he'd never even looked at anyone else. There was no need…the ex-demon was everything to him.

Until tonight.

Harmless flirting was one thing, but what disturbed him most was the fact that for one, tiny, fleeting moment back there…he'd actually forgotten all about Anya.

And it scared the hell out of him.

Watching his wife open the door to their apartment, he felt the sudden compulsion to reaffirm his love and grabbed her before she could even turn the light on. Smashing his lips to hers, he all but dragged her into the bedroom and fell with her onto the bed.

This was good. This was right. The woman earlier was nothing but a blip on the landscape and she was the one that was forgotten as he lost himself in the welcoming arms of his wife.

TBC IN CHAPTER TWO…

CHAPTER THREE – Teasing And Tantrums

Buffy strolled along the cemetery path alongside Spike as they began their nightly patrol. Absently twirling a stake in her right hand, she glanced over at her blond lover and let out a small sigh.

She'd seen the look Rowan had given Spike before she left and for some reason it had unsettled her. Not that it was unusual for the vampire to have admirer's, because he did. Both female and male alike. It was just that normally, her feelings ranged from extremely proud to more than a little smug, knowing that Spike was hers and they'd never have him. With Rowan however, she'd felt pure, unrestrained, good old fashioned, green-eyed jealousy. And that's what bothered her. She barely knew the woman and yet, if she'd had the chance, she would've cheerfully ripped her eyes out and shoved down her throat.

Laying her hand possessively on Spike's leg had been instinctual and the vampire had responded in kind, even though he'd cast her a slightly puzzled glance at the same time. He too, was apparently surprised at her show of possession but from the smile he gave her, he was more than happy for her to carry on.

With another sigh, she glanced over at her slaying partner again and resolutely pushed thoughts of the other woman to the back of her mind. The chances of them coming into regular contact with Rowan were slim to none really. Anya hadn't ever had a friend before and once they reminded her that she wouldn't be able to tell Rowan about the Scoobies and her being a Slayer, she reckoned the ex-demon would probably just not bother.

"Quiet tonight," Spike suddenly spoke up, breaking into her thoughts. "What say we do one more sweep then go to my crypt and get good and naked?" He paused then and frowned slightly before amending, "Well…naked anyway."

Buffy smiled but before she could respond, there came a loud bellow of rage quickly followed by a terrified scream from the bushes in front of them. "Rain check?" the Slayer asked ruefully.

"Third this week," Spike replied with a nod.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll make it up to you," she promised with a wink then gripped her stake more firmly and set off at a run.

The vampire grinned and muttered a heartfelt, "Can't wait, love," before setting off after her.

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Xander helped Anya carry their plates out to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher before heading back into the lounge. They sat down on the couch and Xander put his arm around Anya's shoulder, smiling as she nestled in closer to him and wrapped her arm around his waist.

"That was a fantastic dinner," he told her softly as he slowly ran his free hand up and down her arm. "And this is a fantastic top," he added, enjoying the feel of the silky material under his hand.

"Thanks, sweetie," Anya replied, tilting her head to look at her husband. "I'm glad you like it. Not only is it cheap and sexy but it also helped me make my first friend who, by the way, you haven't said anything about. Didn't you like her?"

Xander's eyes widened at the faint accusing look his wife gave him and felt himself getting flushed. "Uh…yeah…of course I liked her…what's not to like?" he mumbled falteringly as his head filled with images of Rowan gyrating her hips in the middle of the Bronze. Swallowing hard, he shook his head slightly to dispel his traitorous thoughts and then stilled as he realised what else she'd said.

Pushing her away from him gently, he stared into her eyes with a frown. "What do you mean, make your first friend?" he asked in surprise. "What about Buffy and Willow and the rest of the gang? Don't you think they're your friends?"

Anya pouted a little and looked away from his searching gaze. "Of course they're friends, but they're your friends, not mine," she told him with a sigh. "Rowan is the first person I've met that isn’t a part of the gang and who actually likes me for me, not just because I'm your wife."

Xander couldn't have been more shocked if she'd just stood up and said she was leaving him for Giles. "Come on Ahn, you know that's not true…" he began.

"Yes, it is," she cut in forcefully as she looked back up at him. "They're nice enough to me, but I'm not stupid, nor am I blind…I see the way they look at each other when I say things…well…except for Spike…he just finds it funny." She sighed heavily. "Even you keep telling me to stay quiet. But Rowan…Rowan didn't do that this afternoon." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's…it was nice to be listened to like a normal person for a change and not looked at and treated like an ex-vengeance demon."

“Well, that’s probably because she doesn’t know you are one, Hon,” Xander replied without thinking. As soon as the words were out, he wanted nothing more than to take them back…especially when he saw the hurt expression that overcame his wife’s face at his flippant remark. “Ahn, honey…” he began ruefully, but she roughly pushed away from him and stood up.

“Don’t bother, Xander, I understand what you’re saying,” she told him unhappily. “Doesn’t matter that I’m human now. Because I wasn’t once, it just means that your friends can continue to treat me like an outsider and it’s okay with you…that you’ll even join in. It also means that no-one could like me, for me.” She cast him a pained look. “That about cover it?”

Xander stood up and tried to take her in his arms but she quickly stepped away. “No! God, no, Anya, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Oh, I think you did, Xander,” she cut in quietly. Drawing herself up, she schooled her features into an impassive mask and gestured to the settee. “I hope you’ll be very comfortable out here tonight, sleeping on a lumpy couch and having no orgasms.” She turned to go then looked over her shoulder to add, “And you can stick that in your pipe of inappropriate-ness and smoke it!”

Xander watched her walk into the bedroom then flinched as she slammed the door so hard it almost came off its hinges. Looking down at the couch, he sat down with a sigh and set to pondering on just how he was going to find a cure for the ‘foot in mouth’ syndrome into which he kept relapsing on a regular basis.

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"Get the hell out of here," Spike snarled at the young woman who had almost ended up as a tasty snack for the Fyarl demon that Buffy was currently delivering a right upper cut to.

The sobbing girl nodded and ran off as fast as she could, leaving the vampire to wade in and lend a hand to the petite, blonde Slayer. Just as he ran over, the Fyarl smacked Buffy hard across the face, knocking her backwards then raised the axe he was carrying and swung it down in order to deliver the fatal blow.

Spike gave a bellow of rage and took a flying leap at the demon. Catching it around the waist, the vampire's momentum knocked them both to the floor where he grabbed its arm and smashed it hard onto the ground dislodging the axe from its grasp.

Quickly standing, he kicked the weapon out of the way then bent over to haul the hulking demon back up to its feet. Cursing it in Fyarl, Spike punched it soundly in the face then followed up with a roundhouse kick to its gut. The demon grunted as it doubled over in pain but still managed to block the vampire's next kick and struck out with its fist in retaliation, catching Spike hard across his jaw.

His head snapped to the side and he felt the distinctive metallic taste of blood fill his mouth. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that," the vampire growled, letting his true face come forward. With a ferocious growl, he set upon the demon using all his strength and speed.

Buffy sat up with a groan and pushed the hair out of her face as she slowly stood up. Seeing that Spike and the Fyarl were locked in battle, she watched them for a few moments deciding whether to intervene when she noticed the axe lying a couple of feet away. Walking over, she picked it up then turned back to the fighting demons and couldn't help but smile. Damn, Spike looked good. Just watching him made her hot and she squirmed slightly, pressing her thighs together as felt the familiar rush of fluid between her thighs that always accompanied her lust for him.

The sweet scent of her arousal reached out and flooded Spike's senses making him salivate in anticipation. Delivering a punch that stunned the Fyarl momentarily, Spike shook off his game face and took the opportunity to look back over his shoulder at her with a smirk. Tongue rolling up behind his teeth, he gave her a heated look that promised much once the fight was over.

The Slayer's responding coy look lasted but a few seconds as it quickly changed to one of concern. Realising he'd allowed himself to get distracted, Spike turned back to the Fyarl and muttered an expletive. During the scant few moments he'd been leering at Buffy, the large demon had obtained a sturdy stick from the ground and was now lumbering towards him with the intent of making sure he met a dusty end.

"Spike, get down!" Buffy yelled at her blond lover as she drew the axe back and expertly threw it at the creature. Spike dropped to a crouch and watched the weapon fly over his head to embed into the Fyarl's skull. With a painful wail, the demon fell backwards, dead before it had even touched the ground.

"Nice shot," Spike complimented as he stood up and walked over to the body. Placing a booted foot on the Fyarl's shoulder, he bent forward then grabbed the axe's handle and pulled it out of its head in one clean jerk. Weighing it in his hand, he smiled at the balance and looked up as Buffy joined him.

"Thanks," the Slayer replied as she held her hand out for the weapon.

"Uh-uh," Spike said, shaking his head and moving the axe behind his back. "Finders keepers."

"But I found it," she retorted, trying to step around him and grab the weapon.

"Gotta pay the price first," he told her with a smirk.

Buffy folded her arms and desperately tried to hold back her smile. "And what price is that?"

The vampire moved closer, his eyes darkening as they travelled down her face to focus solely on her mouth. "What do you think?"

Tapping a finger on her bottom lip, the Slayer frowned slightly as she pretended to think it over. "Hmmm…what could the price be…oh! I know! Chicken wings!"

Spike shook his head. "No."

"Those blooming onion thingy's?"

"Nope."

"Candles?"

"Not even warm, pet."

"Yes they are, if you have enough of them…"

"Buffy…"

"Okay, I give in, what's the price?"

"Just a kiss."

Smiling sweetly, Buffy closed the small distance between them then slid her hands up the front of his jacket and clasped her hands behind his neck. "You silly vampire," she whispered, raising her face to his. "Kissing you is not a price…it's a gift."

Spike swallowed hard at the loving look in her eyes and brought his arms around to grasp her waist as she tugged him down for a blistering kiss. Just as he was contemplating taking her right then and there, she pulled away, leaving him feeling more than a little frustrated and oddly bereft. Looking down at his hands he saw they were empty and his gaze immediately snapped to her face, taking in the wide grin and mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You devious little devil," he declared, pointing at the axe that she now held in her right hand.

"What?" she replied, her tone one of complete innocence.

"I'll give you 'what'," he ground out as he began to advance on her. "Just wait until I get my hands on you."

Buffy started to giggle and back away. "If you catch me, you can have me…and the axe." With that she turned and ran off through the cemetery as fast as she could.

Grinning, Spike was about to take off after her when a rustling from a nearby bush made him pause. Turning towards the greenery, he sniffed the air trying to catch a scent of what was there and realised it was that of an animal. The rustling came again and then he made out the shape of a dog as it slunk off into the enveloping shadows.

"Last one to your crypt is a rotten, smelly vampire," Buffy's voice floated on the air, bringing him back to the task at hand. Find Buffy. Shag Buffy. Shag Buffy again. To hell with the axe. With that thought in mind, he broke into a run quietly confident that, for once in his unlife, his plan would work.

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Rowan entered the old church and headed over to the small chamber she now called home. "I'm back," she called out as she entered the room and placed a large pizza box down on the rickety table.

Out from the shadowed corners of the room appeared a fox that trotted up to her and sat down.

"I've got pizza," she told it, opening the lid and tilting the box slightly so that the animal could see the contents easier. Looking around, she frowned slightly then turned back the beast in front of her and asked, “Where’s Rufus?”

Moments later, she heard the sound of paws on the cement floor behind her, the claws clacking loudly in the surrounding quiet. Eyes narrowing, she turned around and demanded harshly, “Where the hell have you been?”

The fox quickly morphed into the image of a good looking young man with green eyes and burnished copper coloured hair. “Out,” he replied curtly.

"Out where, exactly?" she quizzed him, suspiciously.

"Just out," he repeated, impatiently. "You know, walking around, absorbing the local atmosphere, checking out the scenery…watching the Slayer and her Vampire making out…"

Rowan gasped. "You didn't! Are you crazy? What if they'd seen you?"

Rufus snorted derisively. "Geez, Rowan, relax! They were too busy sticking their tongues down each other's throats to notice me. Besides, I was bored. It's okay for you, you're getting out every day while I'm stuck here keeping Pops company.

Rowan let out an angry huff of aggravation and pinned Rufus with a fixed stare. There was nothing she could do about the fact he'd been out, but her brother's cocky impetuousness was the bane of her existence. On more than one occasion they'd been forced to change their plans because of him. They'd even had to depart the last town a darn sight quicker then they'd planned, leaving behind a loose end that she was worried could eventually come back to bite them in the ass.

Ignoring Rowan’s glare, Rufus grinned insolently then reached passed her and grabbed up a slice of the pizza and hungrily began to eat. "Thanks, Sis," he said, taking another bite of the greasy food.

Shaking her head, Rowan pushed back her ire then turned to the other fox and tilted her head to the side. "Don't you want anything, Dad?"

This time, the change was slower until a oldish looking man stood before them both, yawning widely. He sported a slight paunch and his thinning auburn hair was liberally streaked with grey. "Thank you, my dear," he said as he reached over and plucked a slice of pizza from the box then sat himself down on a ripped armchair that they'd obtained from the local dump three nights before. "So, how did it go today? Did you have fun?"

"Uh-huh," nodded Rowan, taking her own piece of pizza. "I finally got to meet the Slayer and her friends."

Her father drew in a sharp breath and looked at her, eyes alight with anticipation. "Really? So the game's afoot, eh, my dear?"

The sometime vixen nodded and gave him a sly smile. "I've already got to that Xander person and his wife. I had a nice little chat with her this afternoon over coffee and she’s as gullible as a child. Such insecurities for a married ex-demon.” She mock sympathised before pulling a disagreeable face and adding, “It's all been sickeningly easy so far.”

Her father chuckled gleefully and clapped his hands. "I knew the boy would be the weakest link in the group," he crowed happily. "Now you just have to be your usual conniving self and make their lives hell."

"I’ve started. I just hope the others are a bit more of a challenge," his daughter replied with a nasty grin. "The witches could be interesting. I think one of them is just ripe for bending my way."

Her father nodded, then turned to his son. "Are you ready to join in the festivities, my boy?"

"Always ready, Dad, you know that," he answered, taking another slice of pizza.

"Good, then make sure you go out and get some books and a backpack tonight," his father ordered gruffly. "You're going back to school."

"What?!" the young man exclaimed incredulously. His expression darkened. "But, Dad, I thought you said that this time I could be right in the thick of things…"

His father held up his hand and the boy immediately stopped talking. "You will be, Rufus, you will be," he placated soothingly.

"By being at school?" Rufus queried dubiously. "How?"

The old man smiled. "By using your charms on the Slayer's sister."

Rufus looked back at his father and returned his smile with a malicious grin of his own. "Poor little girl," he said with a mocking sigh. "She's not even gonna know what hit her."

"That's my boy," his father praised proudly and then turned his attention back to the pizza. "Now, let's eat."

TBC IN CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4 - Life Goes On

Xander awoke with a groan and turned over, letting out a startled yelp of surprise when he felt himself fall onto the floor with a thud. Groggily, he forced his eyes open and blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Oh yeah. Anya. Dinner. Argument. Couch. Turn over. Fall off. Ouch.

Gingerly, he sat up and stretched out his stiff muscles while yawning widely. Damn, he ached. Getting up, he plopped himself down on the couch and wearily rubbed his hands over his face before letting them drop to the cushions.

God he hated sleeping on the couch. No matter how he lay, nothing seemed to fit on properly. He yawned again then looked over to the closed door of his bedroom and sighed. He was going to have to grovel but good today. Standing up, he glanced towards the kitchen debating whether to put some coffee on. Not only would it please Anya if he had a cup ready for her, but it would double as a successful delaying tactic.

Decision made, he headed over and put the kettle on then got two mugs out of the cupboard and set them down on the side. Turning, he leaned back against the work top then noticed a small plastic container sitting in the middle of the table. Walking over, he picked it up and pulled back the top to reveal sandwiches and a packet of chips. His lunch.

With a frown, he closed the box and dropped it back on the table before heading over to the bedroom. Opening the door, he was met with the sight of a perfectly made bed and no Anya.

Checking the time, he saw it was still early and sighed heavily. Anya must have got up and left without waking him which meant she was still blisteringly angry with him. Leaving the bedroom, he headed back to the kitchen and put one of the mugs away. Pouring himself a coffee, he sat down at the table and eyed his packed lunch consideringly. Despite her anger, she still cared enough to prepare him food.

Smiling, he knew that, although she was pissed, Anya was ready to forgive.

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Dawn trudged down the corridor preparing herself for another long, boring day at school. Janice was off sick which was bad enough, but the fact it coincided with a day full of classes she didn't really like, it made the time ahead seem interminable.

"Hi Dawn," greeted a young, dark-haired man from across the hall.

The brunette looked over and smiled. "Hey Rick," she replied, walking over to where the boy stood by his locker. "Having trouble with your locker again?" she asked, handing him the books she was carrying.

"Oh…you know," Rick shrugged, as he stepped back to allow Dawn better access. "Stupid thing keeps getting stuck and you have the magic touch."

Smiling, Dawn rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Whatever, Rick, I think you just use it as an excuse to have me near you," she teased.

Behind her, the bespeckled boy reddened slightly and swallowed nervously. "Yeah, t-that's right. Y-you caught me," he said with a nervous laugh.

"Hah! There you go," an oblivious Dawn announced triumphantly as she deftly turned the lock and the door swung open. Books came tumbling out at her feet and she nimbly hopped out of the way at the usual occurrence before turning to Rick and taking her books back with a smile. "See ya," she said and with a little wave, walked away.

Rick stood and stared after her longingly until she disappeared into the throng of milling students then turned back and looked down at the mess at his feet with a sigh. With a tut of self disgust, he firmly pushed his glasses back up on his nose and crouched down to pick up his stuff. He'd ask her out tomorrow. He would. Definitely. Absolutely.

Maybe.

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Anya rearranged the scented candle shelf for the fourth time that morning, still not satisfied with how the display looked which wasn't surprising considering she was still upset about the previous night.

With a weary sigh, she reached out to begin again and then faltered as a wave of dizziness struck. Closing her eyes, her free hand came up to her head as her outstretched one grabbed onto the glass shelf for support.

When the worst of the feeling had passed, she opened her eyes and moved over the table then shakily sat down on one of the chairs. Leaning forward, she folded her arms on the table and rested her head on top, taking deep breaths.

Not enough sleep, she decided once her head had stopped spinning enough to let her think. Lying awake the whole night long then getting up and leaving without even so much as a cup of coffee was enough to make anyone feel a little light-headed. Maybe she should have eaten something when she'd prepared Xander's lunch. That probably would've helped.

She pushed herself back up into the seat and frowned. Of course, this was all Xander's fault anyway. If he'd come in to the bedroom and apologised like she expected, then she would've actually got to sleep and not felt so awful this morning.

The thought of her husband brought a wave of fresh annoyance with a hint of despondency to the fore. She knew he could be a blockhead at times, but to have him practically agree that the rest of the gang treated her differently because she was an ex-demon was just too much.

Her past was exactly that, her past. She couldn't change it and, in all probability, wouldn't even if she could, because it'd mean she wouldn't have met Xander. Although, at this particular moment in time, she did just wonder if that might not have been a bad thing.

With a tired sigh, she forced herself to stand and walked over to the shop's door and unlocked it. Rowan had said she'd be in to see her today…maybe they could talk again. She seemed happy to listen and offer advice the day before and right at that moment, it's what she needed most. A friend to talk to.

Walking back to the counter, she turned on the cash machine and prepared herself for the first customer of the day, hoping against hope that the shop would be busy.

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Entering her history classroom, Dawn was still smiling about Rick. The locker thing had become a running joke between them over the past few months after the first time she'd seen him struggling. Being the helpful soul she was, she'd immediately gone to his aide and had managed to open it within seconds causing them both to laugh.

Since then, they'd become friends…of sorts. Naturally, Janice wasn't pleased that Dawn had befriended one of the 'Nerd Herd' as she called them, but Dawn liked him and so made a point to say hello whenever she got the chance.

Dumping her bag on the desk, she sat down and pulled out the appropriate reference book and a pen. Dropping her bag on the floor, she let out a sigh then leaned forward and propped her head up on her right arm, tapping the pen against her lip as she waited for the teacher to enter.

"Good morning class," Mr. Drake greeted jovially as he walked in with his usual flourish. "Before we start, I'd like you all welcome a new pupil to the class, Rufus Foxwell." He gestured to the door and all heads turned to look at the young redheaded man standing there who raised his hand in salute to the class.

Dawn glanced over dispassionately and then straightened up in her seat and did a double take. "Wow," she breathed, her eyes widening at the sight of Rufus. "Yummy."

As if he heard her, Rufus' gaze suddenly shifted and locked with hers, a slow smile lighting his features.

Dawn felt heat begin in invade her cheeks and quickly looked down, trying to control the sudden rapid beating of her heart. She heard Mr. Drake talking again and then next thing she knew, Rufus was standing by her desk and gesturing to the empty one next to her.

"Okay if I sit here?" he asked with a friendly grin.

Dawn looked up in surprise, her mouth dropping open as she struggled to get an affirmative out. "Uh…y-yeah…," she stuttered before emitting a girlish giggle.

"Thanks," he said, as Dawn cringed inwardly at her pathetic behaviour.

By the time he was settled, Dawn had given herself a stern talking to and felt more in control. Turning to him, she produced her most winning smile and leaned towards him a little. "Wanna share?" she asked, holding up her history book.

"That'd be great, thanks…?" he paused and she looked at him blankly for a moment before realising he was waiting for her name.

"Oh! Dawn…Summers, My name's Dawn Summers," she informed him quickly.

"Dawn Summers," he repeated slowly as if testing the words out. "That's lovely…suits you."

The brunette felt the flush return to her cheeks. "Thanks," she said with a shy smile.

They continued to stare at each other for a few seconds until their teacher began to talk, drawing their attention to the book between them. Suddenly Dawn's day wasn't looking so boring anymore.

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Buffy hummed to herself as she emptied the last of the cereal into a bowl and poured over a generous portion of cold milk. She had a rare day off and was going to spend the majority of it with Spike. Tucking into her breakfast, she mentally reviewed her day and smiled contentedly. Life was good at the moment.

She had an attentive, and insatiable, boyfriend who made her feel like no other man or vampire ever had.

She'd given up her dead end job at the Double Hell Palace and then found herself a nice nine to five at a local counselling office. She'd only been there three weeks when she'd realised counselling was a career she'd like to pursue and had asked to be put on the appropriate courses. Her boss had agreed and she was now shadowing a full-time counsellor at Dawn's school, learning the ropes.

Her friends all seemed happy in their respective relationships and lives…well, except Giles who, for some reason, wasn't pursuing Emily when it was obvious they both liked each other. Hmmm…she'd definitely have to do something about that.

The nightly patrols seemed to be reasonably quiet…definitely a lot less vamps around in that last couple of weeks. She stopped mid crunch and frowned. Could that be a bad thing? She shook her head and continued eating. No. Just meant that her and Spike were doing their job right. No big apocalypse coming or anything.

She hoped.

Breakfast over, she dumped the empty bowl in the sink then went upstairs to shower and get dressed. She had arranged to meet Willow and Tara at the Magic Shop that evening as usual but first she was going to meet Spike at the Mall and shop till she dropped…or run out of money, whatever came first. Probably the money, but she didn't care. All that really mattered was that she was going to spend some time with Spike and they were going to have so much fun.

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Emily stood at her kitchen sink and tipped up the small vial that contained the sleeping draft she'd bought from the Magic Shop. Staring blankly, she watched the yellow contents spill out then flow towards the plughole and disappear. Raising her hand, she turned the faucet to help flush the rest of the liquid away, then switched it off and sighed.

Pushing away from the sink, she turned around and headed back into her rented apartment's sparsely furnished lounge and sat down. This wasn't working. It was taking too long. If she didn't find a way to make Rupert notice her soon, everything was going to be lost.

Leaning forward, she reached out and picked up a dog-eared photo that lay next to her cup of now cold tea. Relaxing back into the couch, she stared hard at the picture and felt the usual rush of emotion surge to the surface, sending one lone tear to track slowly down her cheek.

Had it only been six months ago that she had held Peter to her chest as he'd took his last breath? It felt like six years. Each day she awoke and automatically reached out in bed for her husband, but he wasn't there. He wouldn't be there ever again. His life ripped from him before he'd even had a chance to live it.

Once the pain of his passing had deadened sufficiently, Emily had sought revenge. Researching anything and everything, she then gave up her job and home and moved to L.A. to begin her search. It had taken a while, but her patience had been rewarded and she'd found that all trials led to Sunnydale. Deciding she'd be better off there, she packed up again and situated herself slap bang in the middle of a Hellmouth.

Now that had been a surprise.

Monsters and bogey men were one thing, but a Hellmouth? And in California? Just didn't compute.

What hadn't been a surprise after that, was that there was a magic shop and it appeared to be the real deal. She'd taken to going there in the hope that she might find out a few things, but she'd soon realised that the owners were reluctant and often, downright cagey, when it came to sharing information.

When Rupert had started to give her strange looks, she'd stopped quizzing him and began to turn on the charm. Visiting weekly, she hoped to become a regular and therefore, trusted. So far, it hadn't worked. And to make things worse, she'd actually come to care for Rupert. A lot.

Thinking back to the previous afternoon, she recalled how she hadn't even had to fake her hurt when he'd pulled away and let out a sigh. 'The best laid plans and all that,' she thought to herself wryly and shook her head. Falling in love again so soon definitely hadn't been a part of hers.

TBC IN CHAPTER 5