~Title: Snowflakes of Prophecy

~Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own the characters of BTVS. They belong to Joss Whedon and the other creators...lucky bastards. I like to play with the characters on occasion and make them do wacky things.

~Summary: It's Buffy's senior year in high school. There was no Angel and no Spike, but Buffy was expelled from school. She comes back from LA to find a new vampire has brought change to Sunnydale and a prophecy that tells of her involvement in the destruction of the world.

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

~Chapter One: Stranger~

The sun hung high in the sky, its rays beaming down on the busy little town of Sunnydale, California. The wind was calm, only occasionally tussling the leaves of the trees. It was a steamy 98 degrees with not a cloud to be seen in the bright sky. Just another normal August day in Sunnydale.

Buffy Summers stepped out of the car, a smile on her face. It was good to be back home. She wondered if her friends had missed her. She wondered if Giles had missed her too.

"Have a good day, honey," Joyce Summers said from the driver's seat.

"Bye, Mom," Buffy replied with a wave as she headed up the stairs and into the school building.

The school looked exactly the same, she mused with a reflective smile. The halls were choked with kids milling around before the bell signaled the beginning of first period. Teachers stood outside their classrooms, discussing the prospect of another year closer to retirement. Posters hung on the walls, advertising everything from the school's lunch to the Homecoming dance, a full three months away.

As she neared the cafeteria, she heard the familiar squeal of her best friend. A grin broke out on her face and she braced herself, arms outstretched, as Willow launched herself into Buffy's arms.

"Buffy! It's so good to see you!" Willow squealed as she hugged her friend. She pulled back slightly and smiled. "Did you have a good summer?"

"Hey, Will," Buffy said.

"Hey, the Buffster returns," Xander exclaimed as he sauntered over, a big grin on his face. He pried Willow from Buffy's arms and hugged the Slayer. "Good to see you, Buff."

She hugged him back. "You guys too."

Xander pulled out of the embrace and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, did you have fun in LA?"

"Yeah, LA was great. Just me and my dad, doing the bonding thing."

They headed through the mob toward their lockers as they talked. Buffy told them about her summer spent in LA with her father. Since the divorce, he hadn't exactly been Support-o Dad. In fact, she'd barely talked to him at all since moving to Sunnydale with her mom three years ago. So when he'd finally called and invited her to spend the summer with him, she'd naturally been excited. Most of her time in LA had been spent sitting on the couch with him, eating popcorn and watching movies off Pay- Per-View. Not that she had minded. Just spending time with her dad was enough.

"So, what did you guys do all summer?" She asked as she fumbled with her combination.

"Not much of anything," replied Willow as she too worked to open her locker. "Then again, what is there to do in Sunnydale?"

"True," Buffy said with a smile.

"We went to the Bronze a few times," Xander said as he leaned against a locker next to Buffy's. "Not much excitement there, though."

Buffy yanked her locker open and shoved her backpack inside. "No slayage then?" She asked casually as she gathered her books.

Willow glanced over at her and shook her head. "Not really. We saw a couple vamps but Giles took over patrolling while you were gone. We didn't get to slay any."

"Yeah, the G-man was having too much fun hogging all the action," Xander added with feigned hurt.

Both girls rolled their eyes at him. They had finished grabbing their books for first period, and so followed Xander to his locker as he gathered his.

"Speaking of Giles, where is he?" Buffy asked and curiously looked around them.

"Did you check the library?" Willow asked. "He kinda lives there."

Buffy sighed. "I was hoping to stay away from there for a few days. The idea of research just ruins my whole back-to-school attitude, by reminding me that we're actually *in* school again."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," Xander said from within his locker. "Maybe he'll even postpone the research until *after* school. You know, since you've been gone all summer and probably need time to adjust back into slay-mode."

"This is Giles we're talking about, right?" Willow said sarcastically.

Buffy chuckled. "He's more the 'all work and no play' kind of guy."

Xander emerged from his locker and they began walking down the hall again. They stopped in front of the library and Buffy sighed heavily. "I guess I should stop by just to let him know I'm back."

"We'll save you a seat," Willow called over her shoulder as she and Xander continued to their first period.

Buffy stepped into the library, shifting her books to her right arm. She gazed around at the boxes of unpacked books, searching for her Watcher. She found him in his office, mulling over a list and checking off books as he placed them onto a filing crate.

"Hi, Giles," she called.

He started, surprised by her voice. He set the list down on his desk and peered out at the blonde girl who stood in the middle of the empty room. He gave her a warm smile as he approached. "Buffy, how good to see you. How was your summer in Los Angeles?"

"Oh, you know, just some quality bonding time with Dad."

"You two are...better then?" He asked in concern.

She nodded and headed toward an empty table. "Yeah, we're good. Well, as good as we can be, what with him not calling much or bothering to ask how I've been the past three years." She set her books down and turned around, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Did I sound bitter there?"

He chuckled softly and took off his glasses. A wrinkled white rag appeared from his pocket and he wiped them clean, becoming serious again. "It's only natural that you would feel ignored by his lack of interest in you."

She laughed nervously and deftly changed the subject. "Willow and Xander said there wasn't much action while I was gone."

Giles pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "Nothing terribly interesting. Normal demon activity. I had no trouble patrolling in your absence."

"Good. That's good." Buffy glanced at the clock overhead and groaned. "I have to go or I'll be late. Teachers generally think badly of that first impression." She grabbed her books and rushed out, throwing over her shoulder a muffled, "See you after school."

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

"You think you'll be needing any help patrolling tonight?" Xander asked and grabbed a tray off the lunch line.

Buffy smiled thinly. "No, I have a feeling Giles wants me to train for a couple of hours tonight before patrol. No telling how long I'll be in there until he's satisfied I haven't wasted away over the summer."

"But you haven't...wasted away, have you?" Willow asked as they sat down at their table.

"I wasn't *exactly* in full slay-mode," Buffy admitted, "but it's not like I didn't get *any* exercise. I walked around the mall for half the day when Dad let me go shopping."

Willow giggled. "Somehow I don't think that'll appease Giles."

"I would expect bruises and soreness tomorrow morning," Xander put in, wagging a French fry in her face.

"Well, good, that'll give me a chance to really bond with my heating pad.," Buffy replied sardonically.

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

The library was empty when she arrived there after school. She set her backpack on an empty table and looked around for Giles. Since he did not seem to be there just then, she plopped down in a chair and started her homework.

"Sorry I'm late," he mumbled as he hustled into the room. "Principal Snyder needed to see me for, um...nevermind. Have you started your training?" His eyes drifted to her open books. "I suppose not."

Buffy stood up and said defensively, "I wasn't sure what you wanted me to start with. It's been a while since I've...trained." Her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

"I see," Giles said and set his briefcase inside his office.

"Well, LA isn't on a Hellmouth. There's a lot less bad mojo there," Buffy continued to explain uneasily.

He headed for his weapons case, his face blank. "I understand. However, I think it best that you continue with your normal routines no matter where you are. The more training you have, the better Slayer you'll become." He pulled out two longswords and tossed one to her.

She decided against arguing with him, figuring it would probably just prove futile. Perhaps if she let it slide, the training session would go faster and she'd be able to go out and patrol sooner. She smiled to herself at the thought of *wanting* to go patrol. Normally she thought of it as just another part in her job description; part of the whole saving- the-world package.

Being in LA for so long, she'd realized just how much she'd come to rely on patrolling to take the edge off her frustrations. Staking vampires and killing demons took so much focus, her mind didn't have any room to think about other things, thus leaving her free of any worries.

Giles brought his right hand back and shuffled forward, bringing the sword down forcefully with sharp, quick blows. His arm tingled unpleasantly as Buffy brought her sword up to block him every time. He swept his arm to the right in a slashing motion, but she countered and thrust his sword away from her body, using the instant he was unguarded to jab him gently in the ribs.

"You're dead," she informed him with a proud smile. "By the way, what did Principal Snyder want to talk to you about?"

"Nothing," he stated with a small, nervous smile. He tried to move away, but she caught his left arm and pulled it across his body so that his arms were crossed and he was immobile.

She poked his ribs again, slightly less gently this time. "It was about me, wasn't it?"

"Buffy, don't be ridiculous. Of course it wasn't...ow!"

She stared at him expectantly, poised to jab him again. Off his silence, Buffy's hand came back a tiny bit.

"Yes, all right," Giles said quickly and shied away from her. "He just wanted a report on your behavior."

Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes, moving her sword away from his side and dropping his arm. "I can't believe he's still checking up on me. Stupid little troll."

Collecting both swords, Giles moved to the weapons case as he said, "I certainly agree that the man is intolerable, but he still has the power to expel you again." He turned around and regarded her with a serious look. "I'd be careful to stay on his good side...if such a creature exists."

She crossed her arms and leaned back on a table. "Okay, I'll be a good little girl. I'll do my homework, and behave, *and* save the world from unspeakable danger." She paused and then continued sarcastically, "You know, since we're destroying my entire social life, what teeny tiny bit of it I have left anyway, why don't we throw in a couple *more* things on my to-do-list?"

Without turning around, Giles said, "Very good. There's a punching bag in the back room that could use your help."

Throwing her hands up in defeat with a loud cry of aggravation, Buffy stomped off to the back room. She ripped off a strip of tape and began furiously wrapping it around her wrist. Then she stared at the punching bag, imagining Snyder's face as he told her she was expelled. With renewed vigor, she struck the bag relentlessly until her knuckles were raw and bleeding. At that point she peeled the tape off her sweaty skin and tossed it in the garbage, marching triumphantly out of the room.

"Finished already?" Giles asked as he glanced up from his list. He had wheeled the filing crate out of his office and was sitting at a table covered with boxes; the list of newly received books in his hand.

"Yeah, I killed the big bad punching bag," Buffy said derisively. "Can I go now?"

"What? Oh, yes, patrol. Yes, very well then," Giles replied distractedly as he continued to check off books.

Buffy nodded and headed out the door. She stopped by her house to change and tell her mother she'd be back later. Then she grabbed her stake and rushed off into the night.

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

"Come out, come out, where ever you are," Buffy cooed as she moved quietly through the cemetery.

She had just encountered a gaudily dressed female vampire, who had very rudely knocked her down and then run off. Buffy had pursued her, taunting her in a sing-song voice to come out and play. The vamp was obviously a new-born and had no idea how to play with a Slayer properly. However, Buffy was feeling generous enough to give her a lesson, if she ever decided to show her lumpy face again. They had been playing this pathetic excuse for hide-and-seek for about ten minutes now, and it was rapidly grating on the Slayer's nerves.

"Listen, these games, they're really getting old," she stated as she searched the graveyard.

The vampire peeked cautiously around a tombstone, its pale face illuminated in the soft glow of the moonlight. It saw the Slayer and slipped into the shadows once more, creeping closer like a lioness stalking its prey. Only, the poor thing had it all backwards. It was not the hunter.

Buffy whipped around as the demon leapt from the darkness. She thrust the stake into its heart and said cheerily, "Tag! You're it!" As the particles settled on the wet grass, she frowned and said, "I thought you wanted to play games. Was I not playing fairly?"

"Generally after you stake a vampire, they tend to be a bit lacking in the witty come-back department, luv."

Startled by the deep voice, Buffy jumped. She prepared for another attack and stared intently at the shadows where the voice had come from, waiting for the vampire to pounce. Her brows furrowed as a slim man sauntered towards her.

As he came further out of the blackness, the moonlight washed over him, making him appear ghostly white. He was a little taller than her and dressed completely in black. His hair was bleached blonde, his eyes a bright cerulean which closely watched her study him. His face was chiseled, with razor-sharp cheekbones and a full mouth that curved upward when he smiled at her. He was lean and muscular; she could see the outline of his chest stretching the tight fabric of his shirt. A long black leather duster, leather pants and black boots completed his outfit.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked finally after she had gotten over the initial shock. The man was gorgeous, but she could sense something dangerous about him as well and it made her wary.

"Spike."

"Spike? What kind of name is that?"

Spike began walking around her, studying her with the same carefulness she had studied him with. His eyes raked down her body in such a way that made Buffy shiver. He caught this and a cocky smile appeared on his face. "Just a name." He continued staring at her, noting the gentle swell of her hips and the rich bronze of her skin. He could smell her; a mix of shampoo and vanilla, and deep underneath it all, the coppery scent of blood.

Buffy grew uncomfortable under his close scrutiny. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and cleared her throat. "W-what are you doing here?" She stammered.

"Just moved here actually," Spike replied and tore his gaze away from the golden expanse of her belly. "Could say I had a job offering."

The word "job" rang a bell in her head. Her job was to slay vampires, but not many people acknowledged they existed. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and asked, "How do you know about vampires?"

Spike chuckled. "Been in a few fights, seen a few things."

She stared at him for a moment, deciding whether or not to believe him. Thoughts had begun swimming in her head the minute she'd laid eyes on him. There was something about him she didn't trust, but also something that made her *want* to trust him. It was all very confusing and it was starting to make her head hurt. Plus, she still had four more cemeteries to hit before going home for the night. She didn't have time to chat with a strange man, no matter how gorgeous he was. She had priorities, damnit, so she spun on her heel and walked away.

"Where you going, luv?" He called after her.

Turning slightly, Buffy glanced at him. He still stood in the middle of the cemetery, bathed in the white light of the moon. His eyes locked with hers and she felt her knees tremble slightly. Indignation swept through her and she scowled at him. Without replying, she turned away again and walked briskly out of the cemetery. She could feel his eyes on her back, boring holes through her, but she continued on her way, never looking back at him.

Spike watched her stomp off, an amused smile playing with the corners of his mouth. When she had disappeared into the darkness, he began walking in the opposite direction, chuckling to himself at how well things had turned out. He hadn't expected to come to Sunnydale and find anything interesting. He was here to do a specific job. Yet here was this beautiful girl, just waiting for him to show her everything he could offer. Waiting for her chance to let it consume her.

"Perhaps Sunnyhell won't be so bad after all," he mused with a devilish grin, "now that I've found the Slayer."
~TBC.....

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

~Chapter Two: Snow~

Buffy shivered and snuggled down deeper into her blankets. The cold air brushed against her skin again, making tiny goosebumps appear on her arms. Groggily she opened her eyes and sat up, searching blindly for another blanket. When her grasping hand caught nothing but empty, cold air, she rolled to the end of the bed and reached down for the extra blanket she always kept there. She got back in bed and wrapped the covers around her, sighing sleepily as their warmth enveloped her.

Just as her eyes slipped closed, her alarm went off and she started awake. Groaning loudly, she hit the snooze button and rolled over. She caught a glimpse of her window as sleep consumed her, but the falling snow did not register in her tired mind.

Nine minutes later when the alarm blared again, Buffy's eyes peeked open. She yawned and sat up, stretching her tired muscles to wakefulness. When she climbed out of bed and moved past the window, her eyes strayed briefly outside and she squinted as the glare from the sunlight blinded her.

Too tired to notice, she continued on her way to the bathroom, stopping to grab her robe from its hook on the back of her door. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noted that it was unusually cold this morning, but sleep deprivation kept her from staying on that train of thought for long. She took a shower and got ready for school as normal, then headed downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Joyce said from the stove. She was busily making pancakes and humming along with the radio. "Breakfast will be done in a minute, and juice is on the counter."

Buffy took a seat at the island and watched her mother with a confused expression. "Why are you making pancakes, Mom? You know I never have time for a big breakfast."

Joyce flipped a pancake and smiled at her daughter over her shoulder. "Normally you don't, but there's no school today. I figured we could spend a nice breakfast together since I..."

"No school?" Buffy interrupted in confusion. "Was there some holiday I missed?"

Piling the pancakes on a plate, Joyce replied, "Didn't you look outside? There's about a foot of snow on the ground. School was canceled."

As if to emphasize her statement, the song on the radio abruptly stopped and a news broadcaster's voice crackled over the connection. "Latest news from Sunnydale. Temperatures have dropped to a freezing twenty degrees and the snow continues to fall. Sunnydale residents should be expecting another six inches by tonight, and are cautioned to stay off the roads as much as possible since they have iced over. All schools in the Sunnydale area have been canceled for the day. Thank you."

Joyce shook her head in amazement as she sat down across from Buffy. "Isn't that strange? In the three years we've lived here it has never *once* snowed, not even at Christmas. Now here it is, the end of August, and the snow is falling like crazy."

Buffy forced a smile and grabbed a pancake from the stack. "Yeah, that's definitely strange," she mumbled softly to herself.

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

"Giles, what is it?"

"I'm not certain, Buffy. I've never heard of snow falling in the middle of August, especially not in Sunnydale. There has never been an account of this happening in any of my books," Giles explained as he skimmed over another volume on the history of Sunnydale.

"So, we're all thinking, Hellmouth activity?" Xander suggested.

Giles nodded. "That would seem the most logical explanation."

"If by logical you mean abnormally freaky," Xander joked.

Giles glared at him briefly and flipped the book closed. The Scooby Gang had all gathered at his house some odd hours ago to try to find the cause of the change in weather. He had to admit in all his years as a Watcher, he had never seen anything like this. He wasn't even sure they were looking in the right place. Maybe this wasn't some mystical conspiracy; maybe it was natural. Then again, snow had never fallen on Sunnydale, and that fact alone screamed Hellmouth.

"We're not even certain that this is a danger," he said quietly. "Snow is natural in many places."

"Not in Sunnydale," Buffy said adamantly.

Giles glanced at her and continued, "Even so, it may not mean anything at all."

Buffy nodded slightly. "I still want to check it out."

"Maybe there's something on the Net," Willow suggested. "I could fire up the computer and search for something about the seasons changing?"

"Good idea, Will," Buffy said and picked up her coat. "Giles, I think I'll hit the streets, see if anybody's heard anything. I'll stop by Willy's, maybe he knows something."

"Yes, good idea," Giles replied. "Buffy, you didn't happen to come upon anything...unusual...on patrol last night, did you?" He added as an after thought.

Buffy stopped and thought. Vampires, demons, nope. Everything last night had been of the norm. "I did see a guy," she said slowly.

"A human?" Giles asked.

"Looked human to me," Buffy replied with a shrug. "He did know a little about vampires though."

"Do you think maybe he knows something?" Willow asked, glancing up from the computer.

"I'm not sure," Giles replied. "I think it would be best if you talked to him. If he knows something about vampires he may know what is happening here."

"I'm on it," Buffy said and started for the door.

"Just be careful, Buffy," Giles cautioned.

With a smile and a nod, Buffy stepped outside into the bitter cold. Her boots crunched on the street as she walked along, her mind spinning like the snow swirling all around her. That guy Spike had given her a slight case of the wiggins the moment she set eyes on him. Was it possible that he knew more than just a little about vampires?

She sighed and turned onto the street where Willy's was located. It was a grimy little bar where few people frequented; more common to the undead. Willy was a dingy man who had access to some very dark secrets in the underworld, hence why he was a surprisingly accurate source of information. He heard way more from drunken demons than Buffy gave him credit for. Although, she probably would give him *more* credit if she didn't have to beat him up every time she came looking for news. Willy may be an excellent source of information, but he was also a stubborn little man. She didn't look forward to the fight she would undoubtedly have with him.

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

Spike sat at the bar, a half-empty glass of blood in front of him on the counter. He watched the bartender rushing back and forth, filling glasses and cleaning them. There was something about the man he didn't trust, but unfortunately he needed information, and this was apparently the best place to get it.

"You need something else, pal?" Willy asked as he came to stand in front of the vampire.

"Information, mate," Spike replied and took a sip of the blood. "You know the Slayer?"

Willy's beady eyes went round. Every time some vampire went looking for the Slayer, things always turned out badly for him. Usually when the Slayer herself came marching in and pummeled him for information, or lack of it.

Spike sensed his hesitation and pulled out a wad of cash from inside his duster. He waved the bills in front of Willy's nose and jerked them back just as the bartender's grubby fingers reached out. "You want the cash, you tell me what I need to know."

Giving him the once-over and deciding this guy was probably better as an ally than an enemy, Willy nodded. "I know a little about the girl. She comes in here a lot, asking for news in the demon realm."

The blonde vampire arched a brow.

"Oh, I don't give it to her," Willy said quickly. "She's beaten me up hundreds of times, but I've never breathed a word of anything to her." His eyes darted to the money and he licked his lips.

"Why does she come back then?" Spike asked, already knowing the man was lying. "Would seem a waste of time to me."

Willy shrugged but didn't reply. It was getting harder and harder to keep clients with that damn Slayer always in his way; making a scene in his bar and chasing all his customers away. He hoped that whatever this particular vampire had planned, it would take her out once and for all. He locked eyes with Spike and asked, "So, what do you wanna know, my friend?"

"Let's start with the basics. Name, age, residence, friends, family?" He dug around in his duster and pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and exhaled a lazy cloud of smoke. "The more I know about this girl, the easier it'll be to kill her."

Willy's face brightened. "Anything for a good cause. That Slayer's always messing up business here."

Spike glanced around them at the tables full of demons and vampires like himself. He wondered why they kept coming back since Willy obviously told the Slayer anything she wanted to know. Hell, the man probably drew pictures for her as long as she spared his life.

"Her name's Buffy Summers. She lives on Revello Drive with her mother. She's seventeen and a senior at Sunnydale High," the bartender stated. "Got a few friends that come in here sometimes: a red-headed witch, and another guy. Then there's her Watcher. He's the librarian at the high school."

Nodding, Spike took another drag on the cigarette. He wondered how close he would need to get to her before he could do his job. He hadn't exactly been honest with Willy. He wasn't really here to kill the Slayer. His job was more the diversion, getting her out of the way for something even bigger to happen.

The details of his mission were somewhat unclear. All he knew was that somehow he was supposed to distract the Slayer from her duties. No specific instructions were given to him as to *how* this was to be accomplished. All he had been told was to find her and watch her, and that things would take care of themselves. She would be distracted just long enough for the Master's evil plan to take place. What that evil plan was, Spike didn't know. He knew that somewhere in the mix a prophecy played a big part, but he wasn't to concern himself with any of that. His eyes were to be firmly focused ahead on his assignment.

He stood up, placing the money on the counter and sliding it over to the bartender. "Appreciate the help, mate."

Willy snatched the cash and stuffed it into his pocket. A bright smile crossed his face. "Anytime, my friend. If you need anything else, you know where to find me."

Spike nodded and turned away. Just as he reached the door, he spun on his heel and walked briskly back to the bar. He grabbed the tiny man by his collar and pulled him off the ground, pressing his face just inches away from the other's. "Not a word of this conversation, ay? Nobody knows who I am, *especially* not the Slayer."

The bartender struggled and choked out, "Okay, okay. Nobody knows!"

Narrowing his eyes, Spike gave the man a menacing grin. In barely a whisper he said, "If I find out you squealed on me, I'll hunt you down and drink you dry. Got it?"

"Yeah! I got it!" Willy cried out in a strangled voice.

Without another word, the vampire let go and the bartender fell to the ground. Spike turned again to the door and headed out, followed by curious murmurs from the crowd. Willy picked himself up, laughed nervously and mumbled some lame excuse. Then he hurriedly went back to serving drinks, casting fearful glances at the door and hoping that Spike would not return. The new vamp in town was apparently not one to be messed with. Willy made a mental note of this as he went about his business.

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

Buffy had changed her mind. Actually, she had spotted a vampire feeding and figured the greater evil was the blood-sucking fiend. Willy would have to wait until she was done showing the demon the pointy end of her stake.

She rushed into the park, tackling the vamp as she went. It landed hard on its back and she jumped quickly to her feet, throwing a glance over her shoulder to make sure the girl was okay. "You better get home," she said.

As the vampire climbed to its feet, she doubled it over with two round-house punches to its gut. It landed on the ground again and she turned back to the girl. "Now would be good."

The girl, only about thirteen years old, nodded and opened her mouth to say thank you. All that came out was a tiny squeak, but she did manage a shaky smile before she dashed away.

Buffy faced the vampire again, hands on her hips. "Aren't you a little old to be feeding on someone that young? Isn't there like a law that prevents you from sucking on someone less than eighteen?"

The vampire grinned and lunged for her. It found a face full of dirt in her place as she deftly side-stepped. Picking itself up, the vampire said, "The younger the girl, the fresher the blood." It gave her the once- over, leering at her as it did so. "I think I could make an exception for you."

Setting her jaw, Buffy said firmly, "I don't think so. I'm not the exception to the rule." With that she stepped forward, delivering a punch to the vampire's nose. She heard the cartilage crack and used the vampire's surprise to knock it down with a forceful backhand. Once it landed, she hauled it to its feet and held it above her. "I don't think you'll be feeding on little girls anymore." Straining under his weight, she shoved him away and pulled out her stake. "In fact," she said as she approached, "I don't think you'll be feeding at all." The stake plunged into the vampire's chest and it disintegrated into a cloud of dust.

Sighing, Buffy tucked the stake away and started again for the bar. The vampire had been a semi-nice distraction from her actual duty of the night, but now with the fight over, it was time for her to get down to business.

She passed through Restfield Cemetery quietly, stopping abruptly at the faint sound of footsteps. Cautiously she followed the sound until she found its source.

Spike was on his way home from the bar. His belly was full of blood and his head was full of new information on the Slayer. He was all set to plan the beginning tactics of his mission. Of course, it would help if he'd been given a little more to go on, but he'd make due with what he had.

He was taken completely by surprise when a very fast moving object knocked him down. He turned his head to the side, spitting out dirt and coughing. He thrashed about on the ground, trying to flip over on his back to face his attacker. The scent of vanilla wafted down to his nostrils and he suddenly went very still.

"So I asked myself, 'what's a guy like you doing all alone in a cemetery at night'?" Buffy said from her spot on his back.

"Well, I could say the same about you, luv," Spike replied.

"I asked you first."

Spike chuckled, causing her to bounce slightly on his back. He pushed himself up and let her slide off, then turned and sat so he was facing her. "Quickest way to my house."

She nodded, giving him a skeptical look. "Where do you live?"

In response, Spike dove at her and pinned her to the earth, flattening her body beneath his. Something flew past his head and landed with a clink of metal behind him.

"Hey!" Buffy protested loudly, squirming underneath him to free her arms. "What the hell was that?"

"Not sure," Spike said, slightly out of breath. He was enjoying the feel of her writhing beneath him immensely. He waited a few seconds longer, prolonging the sensation, and then got off her. Quickly he stood and turned away, taking deep breaths to calm the effects she'd had on him. When he could talk normally again, he said, "Landed over there somewhere. Should we have a look?"

Climbing to her feet and brushing the dirt from her clothing, Buffy looked in the direction he was facing. She walked past him, stopping to place a hand on his shoulder in gratitude. "No, I'll handle this."

He followed her anyway, arguing that she'd nearly gotten killed and he could help. He wasn't sure why he wanted to help her, but he felt he needed to. He shrugged it off and told himself it was part of his plot to catch her off guard and keep her occupied for the Master's plan.

They found a lethal looking knife on the pavement. Its handle was carved ivory and smeared with blood. Buffy bent and picked it up by the blade. "Whoever threw this meant business." She handed him the knife and looked around, searching in the darkness for the outline of her would-be attacker.

Spike looked carefully at the knife, something in his mind recognizing it faintly. His eyes stared intently at the markings on it, trying to place where he'd seen them before. He was so engrossed in this that he didn't see the shadows move.

Buffy yelped and clutched at her shoulder, falling to her knees as pain overwhelmed her. The identical hilt of another dagger protruded from her shoulder, one of her hands wrapped around it tightly. She tried to pull it free, but another white-hot wave of pain shot through her and she cried out again. Blood poured down her arm, staining her pale pink shirt and her jeans.

Spinning in surprise at her outburst of pain, Spike's eyes went wide at the sight of the dagger embedded in her shoulder. He crouched down by her side, his nostrils flaring at the smell of blood. With great effort, he ignored the demon raging inside him and concentrated on her wound. The knife was in up to the hilt, buried so deep he wasn't sure he could pull it out without dislocating her shoulder in the process.

"Pull. It. Out," Buffy said, stressing each word in pain.

"Not sure I can, luv. It's in pretty damn deep." Spike's eyes searched hers, seeing the trust she was putting in him. He felt oddly moved by this and took a deep breath. "Hold your breath."

She did as she was told, bracing herself and squeezing her eyes shut. She felt the strong pressure of his hand on her shoulder and the sharp tug as the knife was yanked from her flesh. More pain, searing in its intensity, ripped through her arm. She gave a small squeak and felt the blood gush down her arm, leaving a trail of sticky redness in its wake.

"We need to get you home," Spike said, gently pulling her to her feet.

Buffy shook her head emphatically. "I can't. Mom would freak." She closed her eyes for a second and wobbled as dizziness overwhelmed her.

Spike caught her in his arms before she toppled over and steadied her against him. He glanced down at her, taking in the rapid flow of blood and the depth of the wound. "My place then. I'll clean you up. Come on. Grab your shoulder to put pressure on the wound." He wrapped an arm about her waist as she gripped her shoulder and they hobbled along to his crypt. He was wary of taking her there, but there was nowhere else for them to go. Why he couldn't just leave her there, he didn't know, but he knew he couldn't.

Dazed and dizzy from loss of blood and the scorching pain in her arm, Buffy didn't notice when he led her into his dim crypt. She collapsed into the chair he directed her to, wincing as the movement jostled her arm. Her shoulder was definitely dislocated. That was going to sting in the morning...

He left her on the couch for a minute, hurrying to dampen a cloth and find his bandages. When he came back to her and rolled her sleeve up, she made a weak protest, but he ignored it and pressed the cloth to her wound. The blood flow had slowed a little. He debated whether he should pop her shoulder back in place, but she solved that problem for him. She ordered him to grab her and she twisted, the bones snapping back into place. He finished dressing her wound and got up to put everything away.

She grabbed his arm and asked weakly, "Where are you going?"

"Just to put this away. Be back in a minute, Buffy," he said, without realizing he'd said her name.

She smiled. "Hey, you know my name."

He sighed in relief. She was too dazed to wonder how he'd learned her name, and he was thankful. He wasn't in the mood to tell that tale. He put everything away and came back to sit by her, taking her hand in his on pure impulse. She smiled placidly up at him and he bent closer to press his lips against hers.

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

~TBC.....

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

~Chapter Three: Prophecy~

Buffy's eyes slid closed as his cold lips assaulted hers. Her unwounded hand snaked around his neck, pulling him more fully against her on the armchair. She giggled as he nearly lost his balance.

Spike had no control over his body. Somehow his mind had fallen asleep at the wheel and he was running solely on feeling.

Her mouth was soft and hot against his. He could feel the heat rolling off her and seeping into him, giving his body a temporary warmth. He cupped her cheek with his right hand and tilted her chin back, deepening the kiss and probing her lips apart with his tongue.

Buffy parted her lips with little protest. As his tongue slipped inside her mouth and began to explore the velvet on the inside, she arched her back up against him. Carefully she shifted her other arm and placed her hand on his thigh, gently kneading the hard muscles she found there. She smiled into his mouth as she felt his body tighten, muscles constricting everywhere at the light pressure of her fingertips. She continued to massage his leg, her fingers spreading upward until they were just inches from his erection, then clawing their way back down. Her other hand kept a firm grasp on his neck, steadying her as she continued to kiss him.

Spike's body twitched as her fingers crept toward his erection, and relaxed again as she raked her nails back down his pant leg. He proceeded to kiss her deeply; his tongue engaged in a silent duel with hers. His hand on her cheek trailed slowly down her neck to her shoulder, and then grazed down her arm. He grasped her upper arm tightly and felt the muscles flex beneath his fingers. The cobwebs fogging his brain began to disappear, replaced with the common sense he had recently forgotten.

He jerked his head back, wrenching his mouth from hers. The force of this pulled her head forward. His eyes locked with hers, an unspoken question being passed between them. Her arm dropped away from his neck and he let go of her. A frown tugged at his features as he struggled to maintain control over his aching body. Her hand lay still on his thigh, each finger branding him where it pressed against the fabric of his jeans. He scowled and pulled back farther.

Startled and extremely confused, Buffy timidly moved her hand away from him. She dropped her eyes to her lap, not wanting to see the angry expression on his face. Tears stung the corners of her eyes and her throat constricted with the urge to cry. Her body was thrumming, heated by her passion and cooled by his hands. Her lips were slightly swollen and her hand itched to grip the hard muscles of his leg again.

Spike sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "I think you'd better go, pet."

She snorted. "Well, gee, I'd like to, but one of my arms seems to be a bit useless." Her voice took on an edge as irritation penetrated her. If he was going to pretend nothing had happened so was she. She had no problem sitting here forgetting how wonderful his lips had felt on hers, or how wonderful his strong hands had felt on her skin. Nope. No problem at all.

He glanced down at the arm she had indicated and frowned. It looked like she was going to have to stay with him. Not that it mattered. She was nothing to him anyway. She was his enemy for Christ sakes! He had no problem with her sleeping in his crypt; so close he could hear her deep, even breaths and smell her skin. No problem at all.

Growling in vexation, he got up and backed away from her. "Fine then. You can sleep here." He spun on his heel and stalked away, his duster swirling around him like a cape. He headed down the ladder and immediately began to pace.

Buffy watched him leave and sighed. She didn't know a thing about this Spike guy, yet she had felt perfectly natural kissing him. Hell, that kiss had felt *right*, like nothing else in her life mattered, just him. But how could that be when she'd only just met him? And how the hell was she going to explain all this to Giles and the others?

She curled into a ball and carefully positioned her wounded arm across her lap. Her eyelids suddenly felt very heavy and she closed them, yawning sleepily as she did so. As she drifted to sleep, she told herself that everything would be fine in the morning. She would think of a way to explain herself and all would be well. Right now she needed some sleep. That whole knife in the shoulder thing had taken a lot out of her. Good thing Spike had been there...mmm, Spike....

He stood motionless; one hand on the rung of the ladder, the other shoved deep into his pocket. His ears strained to hear her, and he smiled as he caught the even sound of her breathing. She was asleep now, and he could finally relax.

He didn't move away from the ladder. He was rooted to the spot, caught in the thrall of her presence so near by. Images of her flashed before his eyes and he shook his head vehemently to push them away. They kept coming, spurred by his growing urge to see her, touch her, and taste her. He resisted as much as he could; his hand tightening on the rung of the ladder and his jaw clamped shut. It was too much for him as he heard a soft moan escape her throat. He flew up the steps, his eyes darting to the armchair where he had left her.

She was curled up and snuggled down into the chair. Her hair streamed down her back in a chaotic riot of waves. Her lips were parted and as he watched, her tongue flicked out and moistened them. She moaned again, the sound sending little shockwaves of electricity shooting down Spike's spine.

He edged closer to her, nostrils flaring as the scent of her filled his head. He dared not make a sound for fear of waking her. Right now all he wanted was to watch her sleep. She was softer this way, her body slack with exhaustion. He watched the moonlight dance across her skin, illuminating the curves of her body and shrouding the hollows in shadow. Sunlight was overrated, he thought with a smile.

She stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She spotted Spike and bolted upright. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, trying to hide the smile. "Just came to see how you were, 's all." His eyes dropped to his hands nervously. "So, um, how are you?"

"Peachy," she replied, laying back stiffly. His shy attitude was making her wary. Where was the angry man she had seen just a few minutes ago?

He nodded and his eyes flickered up to hers. He saw the confusion there and realized how quickly his demeanor had changed. At first he had been angry with himself for kissing her, and as usual had blamed someone other than himself for it. His tone with her had been harsh and unfeeling. Now what he wanted was to be kissing her again. He wanted to soothe her aches and pains with his voice.

"You hungry?" He asked suddenly. "Don't have much food in the place, but I could go out and get you something."

Startled by his question, Buffy shook her head slowly. "I'm fine."

Spike hesitated, not wanting to leave her. He noted the sluggish movements of her body and sighed. What she needed more than anything was sleep. She'd lost a lot of blood and it was making her weak. A good night's rest would do her a world of good.

"Right then. I'll let you get back to sleep."

Buffy nodded and yawned, curling back up into the chair. Her eyes closed and blackness surrounded her.

Spike watched her for a few moments, once again enjoying the relaxed position of her body. His eyes passed over every inch of her, imprinting the sight of her in his memory. Before he left again, he went straight to his refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel's. There was no way he was getting through this night if he was sober; not with her so close and still untouchable. Hopefully a hangover in the morning would make him remember why he was supposed to hate this girl, although somehow he doubted it would work.

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

Hours later as the sun was filtering in through the windows, Buffy awoke. She stretched in the armchair, careful of her sore shoulder. As her eyes adjusted to the room, a frown creased her brow.

The place looked like a mausoleum. There were few pieces of furniture about, giving it an air of abandonment. She wondered if Spike really lived here and shivered at the thought. What kind of man lived in a crypt?

She shook her head and reminded herself that this particular man had saved her. If it hadn't been for him, she might have lay there on the pavement, bleeding to death. He had been kind enough to take her here, wherever *here* was, so he couldn't be all bad.

Where was he anyway? She thought as she slowly got off the chair. She looked about, searching for another room where he might have gone to sleep. The ladder caught her eye and she headed towards it, peering down curiously. There was no sound coming from beneath; no heavy breathing to indicate the sleeping man. However, curiosity got the better of her, and she climbed down the ladder anyway.

When she reached the bottom, the first thing she spotted was the large bed and the half-naked man lying on it. She blushed as he rolled to his side and the sheet slipped almost indecently low. He was *completely* naked, she mused with growing interest.

She stepped closer, her eyes traveling down the length of him and then back up. The thin white sheet covering him left little to the imagination, and her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. She kept her eyes locked on his face, refusing to give in to her inquisitiveness, as she walked around the bed to stand beside his prone form.

He didn't appear to be breathing, she noted with alarm. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted, but no breath stirred from his lungs. Gingerly she laid a hand on his arm, but drew back as she felt the cold. She gasped and rolled him onto his back and straddled him, prepared to do CPR.

In his dream, Spike felt her warm hands on his body, stroking him to full awareness. He was enjoying the game, content as long as her hands warmed him. All of a sudden she shoved him on his back. He opened his mouth to protest, but she straddled him, impaling herself and eliciting a sharp groan from the back of his throat instead.

Buffy's eyes went wide as she felt him pressing against her through the sheet. She heard him groan and quickly scrambled off him, her mouth open in shock. She backed away from the bed, her terrified eyes never leaving his face.

The warmth had suddenly disappeared, along with the golden-haired angel sitting atop him. Spike rolled back onto his side and opened his eyes. As the fuzzy form of the Slayer started coming into focus, he blinked and tried to chase away the cobwebs of his dream. It didn't help. She still stood across from his bed, her mouth hanging open in shock and her hazel eyes huge with fear.

"Buffy?" He asked and sat up quickly. She pressed her palms flat against the wall, trying to allow it to absorb her. Spike cocked his head and searched her face. "What're you doing down here, luv?"

"I...I..." Buffy stammered. She didn't know what was going on, but she didn't like it. One minute he was dead, the next he was very much alive. She pointed a shaky finger at him. "What the hell are you?"

Spike froze. Did she know? His eyes locked with hers, seeing the terror in them. She must know. Why else would she be so afraid of him? But he couldn't give up. He couldn't just tell her the truth. That would ruin everything. Maybe he could convince her otherwise; distract her and make her forget what she'd found out.

He stood up, the sheet falling away from his body and pooling at his feet. A cocky smile curved his lips. "What do I look like, luv?"

Despite her resolve not to look below his shoulders, Buffy found her eyes wandering languidly down his lean form and resting where they should not. He definitely looks human, she thought as her breath quickened and her blood raced. She shut her eyes tightly against the sight of him. All demons look human, she reminded herself harshly.

Taking advantage of her momentary blindness, Spike closed the distance between them in one large step. He grasped her shoulders and crushed his mouth down onto hers. As she struggled against him, he only deepened the kiss, causing her to gasp for breath. Using that instant to plunge his tongue inside her mouth, Spike released her shoulders and ran his hands over her back.

Buffy lost all will to fight and melted into the kiss. She brought her arms up and entwined them around his neck, wincing slightly at the jolt of pain in her hurt shoulder. It disappeared abruptly as his hands sought the hot skin beneath her shirt. She gasped into his mouth as his freezing fingers gently kneaded the muscles in her back.

Spike had forgotten the purpose of all this. He knew he had started this with a clear goal in mind, but now that he tried to think about it, he couldn't remember what that goal was. She was responding too readily to his touch for him to give a damn about anything but the feel of her in his arms.

Slowly he pulled her toward the bed, never once breaking contact with her mouth. She didn't protest, even as he laid her gently down and climbed on top of her. He finally had to rip his mouth away from hers. She made a small whimper of protest, but he silenced her by placing a finger to her lips.

As if in slow motion, Spike peeled off her clothing, flinging it behind him without a care. When she was completely naked before him, he sat up and let his eyes roam over her. She was touched with gold everywhere, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. As she settled more comfortably beneath him, he watched the muscles ripple underneath her skin. She was strong, yet so fragile. He felt almost as if she would break if he grabbed her too tightly, but at the same time he knew she could take it and much more besides. She was, after all, the Slayer.

He pushed that last thought from his mind as he moved his mouth down to her collarbone. This was not the time to think about enemies. This was not the time to think about anything.

He left a trail of kisses from her collarbone to her navel, stopping there to dip his tongue into the tiny dimple and then move further down to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was like silk, flowing over his tongue and making him hunger for more. She tasted like vanilla and something else; something rich and like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was her own special flavor, intoxicating and delicious. As his mouth moved lazily down her thigh to her calf, he pondered how content he could be simply pressing his lips to any given spot on her golden body.

Buffy was panting. Everywhere his lips touched her she felt a little electrical shock and then a slow swirl of pleasure deep at her core. Her body was flushed from the heat he was creating, and absently she noticed that he was not cold anymore. His body had temporarily absorbed the heat from hers.

As his tongue delved into her, she threw her head back and cried out. Her fingers twisted into his hair, gripping tightly as he sent bursts of pleasure shooting into her. She arched up, her back coming off the bed and her belly pressing against his forehead. Landing softly with a small grunt, Buffy pulled his head back and stared into his eyes. They were glazed with passion and sparkling with the deepest blue she had ever seen. She smiled shakily, her body still shivering from the heat flowing through her.

No words were spoken between them. Spike knew what she wanted without needing to hear her say it, and he was only too happy to oblige. He moved his body fully over hers, gently pressing his weight on top of her as he sought her entrance. With one hard thrust he was inside her. She clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. The pain in her shoulder went unnoticed. He began moving then, each thrust causing a spasm of pleasure to course through both their bodies. As they came closer to the brink, Spike moved with increasing momentum and force.

Finally, sweat slicked and exhausted, they reached their climax. Buffy's entire body tightened, a long moan escaping her throat. A low growl flowed from deep inside Spike's chest, blending with the Slayer's cry and echoing throughout the crypt. As the sound died away, both collapsed in a tangle of limbs. They lay still for a few moments, Buffy catching her breath and Spike taking in great gulps of unneeded air as well.

When he could feel that her breathing had returned to normal, Spike lifted his head and looked down at her. "How's the shoulder, luv?"

Grinning, Buffy glanced up impishly at him. "Can't feel it right now."

Chuckling, Spike lay back down and closed his eyes. "Cure's everything that does."

Buffy didn't respond. Her body was exhausted and still tingling from that extraordinary experience. Sleep was swiftly overtaking her, and she welcomed it. She snuggled more fully against him, resting her cheek on his chest, and sailed into oblivion.

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

Night had fallen when Buffy gradually opened her eyes. Spike was not beside her anymore. She sat up and looked around the dark room for him, but he wasn't there. She wondered when he'd be back and realized she couldn't be here when he came back. She'd already spent an entire day without checking in with Giles. He and the Scoobies were bound to be worried about her by now. She had to get back and explain what had happened...as soon as she figured out what *had* happened.

She slipped out of the bed and began pulling on her clothes, her mind working frantically on the events of the morning. She tried to remember everything that had happened in the order it had happened, searching to find some detail that would lead to her strange behavior. The only thing she remembered clearly was the wound in her shoulder, which now only throbbed dully. She wondered if the wound had anything to do with her completely out-of-character fling with Spike, but she sensed her reasons went deeper than that. Something about that man had drawn her to him, made her act crazy; almost as if she were...in love.

Buffy dropped the shoe she had just picked up, her mind barely registering the pain as it fell on her foot. Had she really just thought that? How could she possibly be in love with a man she had met mere days ago? Did she even believe in love-at-first-sight?

She bent down and picked up the shoe, laughing nervously. This is crazy, she thought. I'm going crazy. There's no way I'm in love with Spike. What kind of name is Spike anyway? Certainly not the name of a guy I would fall in love with...

Realizing she was letting her mind ramble, Buffy finished getting dressed and climbed up the ladder. She reached the top and looked cautiously about for Spike, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw no sign of him anywhere in the crypt. She rushed out the door and leaned against it, her heart beating wildly in her ears.

Well, that was one huge mess she had gotten out of unscathed...not counting the dislocated shoulder or her missing virginity of course. Now all she had to do was check in with Giles and the others, tell them what had happened, and hope they would understand and be compassionate to her. She whimpered at the thought and decided to take the long way to Giles' house.

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

A soft knock at his door startled Giles from his reading. He placed his glasses back on his nose and headed for the door, assuming she was finally ready to show her face. He had no idea where she'd been the whole day, but he certainly hoped there was a reasonable explanation for her absence.

He opened the door and gave her a knowing look, beckoning her in with a wave of his hand. "I expect this will be good," he said and shut the door behind her.

Buffy stepped inside and whirled around, giving him her best innocent smile. She had worked out everything on the walk over here, and decided that, no matter how severe the consequences for her actions, she was going to tell Giles the truth. Spike had been a suspect in the snow mystery after all. If he was connected to it, Giles would need to know her relationship with him, no matter how embarrassing or intimate it was.

Giles took one look at her face and knew it was going to be a long night. "Sit," he commanded, pointing to the couch. He went to the kitchen and fetched the pot of tea that had been brewing, pouring them both a cup even though he knew she wouldn't drink hers.

When he returned, Buffy set the cup of tea on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. She took a deep breath and started from the beginning, telling him about the attack and how Spike had saved her and brought her back to the crypt. She told him very briefly how they'd slept together, blushing when he winced at the words. She even tried to decipher her feelings for Spike to Giles, though she wasn't exactly sure what those feelings were. When she had finished, Buffy dropped her eyes to the teacup and waited for her Watcher to speak.

For a long time after she was done, Giles sat stationary beside her on the couch. He was trying to absorb what she had just told him, but it didn't all make sense yet. There was too much to sift through.

"Your shoulder?" He asked finally, glancing at the limb in question.

Buffy rolled up her sleeve, baring the mark where the blade had dug into her flesh up to the hilt. It was healing quickly; advanced skills thanks to the Slayer package.

"Does it hurt?"

She shrugged and pulled her sleeve back down. "A little. It's no big though. I should be good as new by tomorrow."

He smiled gently, but it faded to a frown all too quickly. There was still more he needed to know about the attack on her, and about this Spike character. "Can you describe the dagger?"

"Sharp blade. Ivory hilt with weird markings. It was smeared with blood when we found it."

Giles nodded. "You and Spike?"

"Yes." Buffy paused, recalling Spike's expression as he'd examined the knife. "Hold on. He looked at it funny; the knife, when we found it. He examined it really closely and had a weird expression on his face like he'd seen it before."

"Did he say anything to you?" Giles asked, suspicion ringing alarm bells in his head.

Buffy shook her head. "No."

Giles leaned back and took off his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose to still the beginning ache and said, "Tell me about this Spike. Have you seen him around before the snow started falling?"

"Yeah, I saw him the night before it snowed, remember? I told you about him when we were researching the freaky change in seasons."

Swallowing hard, Giles asked quietly, "How do you feel about him, Buffy?"

Confused, Buffy frowned. "What do you mean? I told you I'm not sure how I feel about him. I tried to explain to you what happened, but I'm not sure yet."

"Do you think there's a possibility that you love him?"

"Giles..." Buffy started, nervous laughter bubbling up in her throat.

"Do you?" Giles insisted, locking his eyes with hers. "Honestly?"

She dropped her eyes sheepishly, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Timidly she peered up at him through her lashes, trying to judge his reaction.

The color had drained from his face. He gripped the armrest so tightly his knuckles had turned white with the effort. His eyes were shut tight and his mouth was a grim line.

"But, Giles, everything happened so fast. I could be wrong about this. Maybe I just think I'm in love with him because of what happened between us."

Giles stood and moved away from the couch. He grabbed the open book he had been reading when she had knocked on his door and brought it to her, sighing deeply as he placed it in her hands. "I'm afraid not, Buffy. While researching the snow, I came across this."

Buffy stared at the text in her hands, a horrified expression on her face. She read the words aloud, fear making her voice quiver. "The Slayer will not recognize what he is until it is too late. She will not be able to kill him. She will fall in love with him and her love will blind her and cause destruction and chaos to reign down upon the earth. Then she will die, and the earth will surrender and leave the world to the demons again."

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

TBC.....

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