Come dance with me by Marianne

He had just enough time to register the pain and look down at his thigh where a barbed dart was imbedded, when he felt the dizziness and darkness fog his brain and he crashed to the floor.

When he awoke, he was in complete darkness that not even his enhanced senses could penetrate, unable to move his arms and legs, which appeared to be pinioned by metal bands. His surroundings seemed to be vibrating – no, rocking – and it took him some time to realise that he was in a small box; only just large enough to contain his body and that he was on the move. He tried shouting and struggling, but no one came. The darkness seemed to press against him and, for the first time since he had been sired, he was afraid of it. It brought back ugly memories of his human childhood, when his father had shut him in a small cupboard if he had been judged to be a “bad boy.”

He had no idea how much time had passed when a small hatch just in front of his face opened, and light suddenly flooded in, blinding him. A rough voice said, “Eat,” and a plastic pipe was thrust towards his mouth.

He turned his face away and shouted, “What the bloody hell is going on? Why am I here and where are you taking me?”

“Suit yourself.”

Before he could say any more, the pipe was withdrawn, the hatch slammed shut, and he was left to his own thoughts. The time passed and, just as he thought he was going to expire from hunger, the hatch was opened again and the pipe was pushed in. This time he grasped it between his teeth and sucked hard, the warm blood flowing into him, restoring his strength.

“Will you sodding well talk to me? Why are you doing this?”

But the pipe was withdrawn and the hatch closed with no response from whoever it was.

He lost all count of time but, just as he thought he couldn’t be hungrier, he was fed through the hatch. He stopped asking questions and trying to escape as a bad job - it got him nowhere. His fear grew as time went by until he thought that he would go mad. Finally, the vibration stopped and he lay quiet until he was shaken from side to side as the box was moved, his head banging against the walls. Finally, the movement stopped and a different kind of vibration started. He howled in frustration, having thought that he might be freed from his dreadful prison. The nightmare continued, punctuated only by feeding time.

At last, when all movement stopped, he was hardly in any state to appreciate it. Through the buzzing in his head he heard a scraping sound, cracks of light appeared and the lid was lifted. He had never been so pleased to see light in his life, no matter what awaited him. As his wrists and ankles were freed, he drew himself painfully to a sitting position and looked wildly around. He was in a small, windowless room that looked as though it had been hewn from rock; four burly men surrounded him, holding crossbows, the flickering of their torches making their shadows dance sinuously across the walls.

“Make sure our guest is made comfortable,” a disembodied voice commanded.

At that, the men unceremoniously tipped him out of the coffin, picked it up and left, slamming the door behind them. He lay sprawled on the floor only just able to contain his sobs of relief. It was dark in the room now, but, after that awful box, it felt almost like freedom. He spent some time trying to destroy the door, but the wooden layer he managed to dislodge only revealed the metal one underneath. He then spent some more time shouting, kicking, and swearing at it until he ran out of steam.

It looked like a store room, excavated from the bedrock. The walls were uneven and damp and he had examined every inch of them several times over, when the door opened and the same four men came in, this time armed with cattle prods. He glared at them.

“Where the bleeding hell am I? Why have you brought me here?”

The first man thrust the prod towards Spike’s chest and, with a yell and a searing pain running through his body; he fell to the floor, paralysed. By the time he recovered, they had handcuffed his wrists behind his back and drawn a hood over his head. They dragged him out of the room and down a corridor, thrust him into another room, uncuffed him, and drew off the hood. As they left the room, he looked around just in time to fend off a blow to his head from another vampire who seemed to be intent on killing him. Confused, he fought for a few desperate minutes almost losing the battle, but the other vampire was young and inexperienced, giving Spike the chance to wrench the stake from his grasp, and dust him.

“Bravo,” drawled the disembodied voice, “I enjoyed your performance.”

Spike looked around - there must be a camera in the room and speakers.

“And they call me a freak – is this the way you get your jollies? Watching others fight to the death?”

“I’m not interested in “others”, only you!” The voice came back.

“Why? Why the hell are you interested in me?”

There was no reply. When the four men came back in, he eyed the cattle prods and put up no resistance as they cuffed him, hooded him, and frog-marched him back to his cell. When they had released him and backed out, he found a container of fresh blood on the floor and he drank greedily, then he looked around, nothing had changed. It was still dark, damp, and depressing.

He was used to being lonely since Dru had left, but he had never felt so alone until this room. He wracked his brain trying to figure out why this was happening to him, as he prowled back and forth across the small room, four steps one way and four steps back, but it did not relieve his sense of aloneness. The only thing that helped take his mind off what was happening was to turn in on himself, shutting out his surroundings. So he slumped in a corner and began fantasising, rewriting history, where he was the hero, or, if he felt like it, the villain. He found that his fantasies about the Slayer were the best: where he rescued her and she was grateful, instead of loathing him and punching his face, or where he fought her and won, without the bloody chip interfering.

When next they came for him and took him to the other room, he was prepared for battle. This time it was a more experienced vampire and Spike was wounded several times before overcoming the other being. Groaning with pain, he was forced back to his prison and thrown in. He dragged himself over to the wall and sank into his dreams.

This became the pattern – the men would take him to what he began to think of as the battle room, and he would have to fight for his unlife. He fought all sorts of demons and monsters, each stronger than the last. His clothing becoming ragged and torn; it didn’t heal like his skin. He was allowed to recover just enough, before they would come for him again. The “voice” did not re-appear, and, although Spike was sure that he was being watched all the time, he didn’t care, he could shut it out.

When Buffy first heard about the Council’s all-expenses paid trip to England, she said “No! No way, never, never ever!”

Giles, who had received the phone call, was more cautious. “Well, they don’t seem to have a hidden agenda; they don’t even want to meet with you.”

“Come on, Buffy, at least listen to what Giles has to say.” Joyce said.

“Well, what do they want?”

“They emphasised that there were no strings attached – they say that they want to make it up to you, after the hard time they gave you.”

“Which hard time would that be? The time they nearly got me killed? The time they fired you as my Watcher?”

“It would be a good time to take a break – after all you have been through. Joyce is getting better all the time, and Willow can help her look after Dawn.”

In the end, she allowed herself to be persuaded to go. It was something she had always wanted to do, and, Giles was right, she needed the break. Leaving Willow and Xander with contact numbers and instructions for what to do if another apocalypse threatened, she hugged them and, smiling through sudden tears, waved goodbye.

The trip was everything she could have hoped for. They visited all the places that she had dreamed of, and the stresses and strains of the last few months faded. Giles was enjoying himself hugely too; he loved seeing the expression on her face when she saw the ancient buildings and the historical sites.

On the eighth day of their trip, Giles received a phone call. When he came back, he said, “We have been invited to stay at a private house near the borders of Scotland for the weekend. Apparently, you have a fan who wants to meet you.”

“I thought the Council was going to leave us alone!” Buffy said, angrily, “Just as I start to enjoy myself, they get all interfere-y!”

“He is not in the council; he’s just a supporter. His name is Sir Laurence Mills – he, apparently, was knighted for his services to charity – in fact, his family supported my training.” Giles felt uncomfortable admitting this to her. Should he let his gratitude dictate what they should do? “Look, we don’t have to visit if you don’t want to; we can keep to our original plans.”

Buffy felt guilty, she was behaving like a spoilt child.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland,” she smiled at him, wanting to smooth the worried wrinkles from his forehead. “We only have to stay the weekend, okay? There are so many places I want to see.”

“I’ll ring him back and emphasise that it’s for two days only.” He tried to keep the relieved smile from his face; he had always felt indebted to the Mills family, who had paid for his five years at the Watcher Academy.

They travelled by train, with the idea of hiring a car on arrival, but they were met by a chauffeured driven Rolls Royce and driven in style along winding country roads, past densely forested areas until, through a break in the trees, they caught their first glimpse of their host’s residence.

“This is a house?” Buffy gaped at the castle-like building as she got out of the car.

A man came towards them and, smiling, held out his hand towards Buffy. He looked to be in his thirties, with blond hair and blue eyes; she shook his hand and smiled back at him. “These places were built when the Scots sent raiding parties over the border in the fourteenth century. They had to withstand sieges that were quite long.” He explained.

“Then subsequent householders added to it as they needed to. I think they must have had big families; there are twenty three bedrooms at the last count!” He laughed, and ushered them into the large hall. “I’m Laurence Mills. You must be Buffy – you don’t know how long I have waited to meet the famous Slayer.” His eyes were glowing with enthusiasm.

“So, it’s not your ancestral home then?” asked Giles to fill in Buffy’s embarrassed silence.

“Good lord, no! My father bought this place around thirty years ago. It was a bargain, but in dire need of work. He was a self-made man, you know, made his money in scrap metal.”

He was a modest hottie Buffy thought – most men would have preferred to hide such lowly beginnings. She smiled up at him, “I’d love to see the rest of the house, er castle”.

“It will be my pleasure.” The house was huge. “We even have a ballroom,” he said with a chuckle, opening a door to a vast room with glass doors all down one side, overlooking the drive and gardens. “Although, there hasn’t been a ball held here in living memory.”

“It’s beautiful,” sighed Buffy, impressed in spite of herself.

“Much too big for me really, but dad liked it,” he said.

Buffy was shown to her bedroom, complete with an enormous four-poster bed, which she threw herself on to in delight. This was far better than she had ever expected. Laurence was very attractive, and she was looking forward to the next two days.

After dinner, Laurence outlined some of the places he would like to take them.

“What do you think? Would you like to see some places that are not on the tourist track?”

“Put like that, how can I resist?” Buffy laughed.

Giles smiled weakly, and said, “Yes, how could we resist?”

The next twenty-four hours went by in a whirl of visits and introductions. Laurence was an entertaining host who knew everybody who was anybody. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a good time. When Giles saw Buffy’s reaction, he also relaxed and started to enjoy himself.

The next evening, after a sumptuous meal at a local restaurant, Laurence said reluctantly “I’m sorry, my friends, but I have an important meeting at home. However, please stay on here if you like.”

“No, it’s all right; I need an early night anyway, since we’re leaving tomorrow morning.” Buffy stifled a yawn.

“Me too, I’d like to plan our next visit,” Giles agreed.

“Oh no, you can’t think of moving on yet!” Laurence seemed really upset. “You haven’t seen half of what I’d like to show you.”

“I’m afraid we will have to. We don’t have much longer in England and there’re still a lot of places on our visit wish list.”

He stalked into her back yard and found her sitting on the back stoop. He raised the sawn-off shotgun, but before he could aim it, he saw the glistening streaks on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Spike, I’m sorry that I said that you were beneath me. I was so tempted to kiss you then, that I said the first thing that came into my head.” Tears sparkled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. I’d do anything to make it up to you.”

Spike pulled her towards him with a growl, raining kisses on her face. “I’m sure I can think of a few ways...”

Rough hands pulled him to his feet, and the fantasy changed to accommodate. “I will fight this demon to protect you,” he muttered under his breath as his hands were fastened behind his back and the hood put over his head. He was still weak from the previous days’ fight and put up no resistance.

When they got back, Laurence asked them to join him in his office. “I thought you had a business meeting,” Giles said.

“I’ve had to change my plans, since you’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Laurence said slowly. “I have something to show you – I had hoped to explain all this to you tomorrow, but if you are leaving, now will have to do.”

He opened the door and nodded to someone outside. To Buffy and Giles’ amazement, a hooded figure in rags with his arms chained behind his back was dragged in. “This is William the Bloody, a vampire,” said Laurence proudly.

“What the hell is going on?” Giles couldn’t believe his eyes. “Why have you brought him here, and why is he in such a disgusting state?”

“Giles, let’s hear what Laurence has to say,” Buffy said calmly

“Slayer?” Spike whispered.

“It seems to know you,” Laurence said. “Have you encountered it before?”

“Yes, we’ve had a run in or two, but he’s always escaped until now.” Buffy said expressionlessly.

“This is the culmination of a lifetime’s planning!” Laurence pulled off the hood, and Spike blinked in the sudden light. “This monster massacred my family,” Laurence snarled.

“What? When did he do that?” Buffy asked.

“About a hundred years ago, my grandfather came back from doing an errand for his mother, to find his parents, his brothers and sisters – including his five year old sister Gertrude, who had hidden in the coal bin, lying in their own blood, their throats torn out. He never recovered from the experience and taught his son, my father, to hate this... thing and to promise to hunt it down and kill it in the most painful way possible!”

“How do you know that this is the vampire?” Asked Giles.

“A neighbour described the attacker, and, although it has changed its appearance, we have managed to establish that it was William the Bloody beyond all reasonable doubt.”

Buffy was staring at Spike listening to the story. He was staring blankly back at her, his blue eyes sunken in their sockets. Although she hated him, she couldn’t equate chips ahoy Spike with such horror, but had to admit that pre-chipped Spike could have, and would have, done such a thing.

“What’s this got to do with me?”

“Buffy, my father worked all his life for this moment. He slaved night and day to earn the money to afford the research necessary to track down this monster. He found out about the Council and poured money into the Slayer project. Tragically, he did not live to see it fighting for its life, and it has fallen to me to finish what he started.”

“What do you mean, fight for its - his life? You want me to fight him?”

“I’ve been training it for you; it will be a worthy opponent.” Lawrence walked over to a monitor and pushed play on the VCR. Buffy saw Spike fighting several monsters and demons in a series of edited “highlights.”

“No. There’ll be no public slayage for me. When I dust vampires, it’s one on one, no invites, no RSVPs,” Buffy was thinking fast, “If I do this thing, it must be in private, in a place of my choice, and this creature must be fit – and washed – he stinks!”

“Buffy! You can’t seriously be thinking of fighting him!” Giles spluttered.

Before he could say any more, Buffy butted in, “I’ll need talkage with my Watcher before I decide.”

“Of course, anything you say!” Lawrence was wringing his hands in excitement.

Buffy was wondering how she could possibly have thought him even remotely attractive, when a horrible idea popped into her head. “I hope there’s no cameras any place near me!”

“No, no! The only rooms that have surveillance equipment in them, are the vampire’s cell and the fighting room,” Laurence said hastily, “I wouldn’t do that to you!”

Giles looked about to say something, but before he spoke Buffy gave him a meaningful look and walked out of the room, into the garden. Giles followed. When they were a good distance from the house, Giles couldn’t control himself any longer.

“What do you think you are doing? You can’t possibly be entertaining the idea of fighting Spike, especially for that...that......” For once, Giles was at a loss for words.

“I don’t see an alternative, Giles,” Buffy said and then filled him in on her idea.

Back in his cell, Spike tried to make sense of what had happened – was it in his mind or had it been real? How had Buffy got there? Did they say that he would have to fight her? The questions spun around his head until he felt dizzy. So he did what he had become accustomed to doing – he forced the real world away and entered his fantasy world – sinking down into a corner and rocking back and forth.

Giles left the estate early in the morning while Buffy, smiling at Laurence, outlined her conditions for fighting with Spike.

“I have decided to fight him in the ballroom, when Giles gets back from town, with only you two there,” She told Laurence, who by now was willing to agree to any of her demands. “Giles will have a crossbow, in case the vampire decides to make a break for it.”

“I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me,” Laurence said, clasping her hand. It took all her willpower to keep the smile in place; she squeezed his hand and was amused to see him flinch in pain.

“I always find slaying stimulating,” she said to him with a meaningful look. “In fact, they are quite a turn-on,” she purred.

Laurence was still taking in the implications of this, when Giles came in. “Well, I’ve hired the car for the next leg of our journey, but I’ve been thinking that it would be as well to postpone our departure until tomorrow, to allow you to recover from the fight. Not that I expect it will take you long to dispatch him.”

“We can proceed as soon as you are ready,” said Laurence, eagerly. “As you requested, I’ve told the men to leave as soon as they have brought the vampire in.”

“Good.” Said Buffy. “There’s no time like the present.”

When Spike was brought to the ballroom, Buffy could see that he was wearing a black sweatsuit and looked cleaner. As soon as the handcuffs and hood were removed, the four guards departed as promised. Spike was swaying; blank-faced and looked, if possible, worse than the previous day. Buffy flew at him, raining blows and kicks to his face and body. He fell back, making no attempt to defend himself, and crashed to the floor. She knelt astride his chest, her hands around his throat, bent and hissed in his ear,

“Spike, can you understand me?”

He looked up at her, confusion clouding his eyes, “Slayer, is it really you?”

“Yes, of course it is, you idiot! There’s a car parked just outside. It’s got a blanket on the back seat, but to reach it you gotta look like you’re fighting me back – follow my lead.”

Awareness flooded his face, Buffy felt a surge of movement and then found herself flying through the air. She rolled to her feet, ran towards him, and, fending off his weak blows, kicked him hard in the chest making him stagger backwards into the glass doors which burst open. Spike got to his feet and sprinted to the little Audi, with Buffy and Giles close behind him.

Laurence expected them to capture the vampire and bring him back, but, to his utter amazement, they jumped in with him and the car shot off down the drive, gravel spraying.

Buffy looked through the back window. “Are they following us?” Giles asked.

“No, not yet – oh, yeah here they come, I just saw a car pull away.”

“I got the fastest car I could hire; I hope he hasn’t got a Porsche or something!”

Spike just lay on the back seat, heavy blanket over his head. He couldn’t quite believe that he was free, or who it was that’d rescued him. The road twisted and turned through the forest. Giles, who’d scouted the route that morning, turned into a small gap between two trees and they bumped along into the forest for a few hundred yards before stopping.

“Why’ve we stopped?” Spike wanted as many miles as possible between him and that dreadful place.

“We’re going to double back,” said Giles. Just then, they heard the pursuing car pass them and continue along the forest road. “I think we stand a better chance if we use the lane behind the house. Hopefully, they won’t have thought of that.”

“Hopefully?” said Spike incredulously.

“Look, you peroxide idiot! We didn’t have a lot of time to plan this. If you’ve a better idea, then let us know!” Giles snapped, starting the car and pulling back on to the road. He leant over and handed Buffy a map. “Here, I bought this at the car hire place. It’s the most detailed one I could find.”

She looked at it in confusion, never having seen an Ordnance Survey map before.

“Um, where are we?”

“Give it here.” Spike leaned over the back seat and pulled the map from her unresisting hands. The vampire surprised them both by navigating almost faultlessly down tiny narrow back roads. They got lost a couple of times, but Spike managed to get them back on track, avoiding major roads altogether. Finally, they joined a motorway and lost themselves in the traffic, heading towards London.

After several hours, Buffy needed a break and Giles had some phone calls to make, so they pulled into a service station. They decided that Spike would stay in the car; he was too distinctive with his bleached blonde hair and high cheekbones. In fact, Giles told him that he “stuck out like a sore thumb.”

Spike lay on the back seat, still covered by the blanket. He had shut down his emotions, but now he didn’t have to maintain the façade, they overwhelmed him. He found that he was shaking uncontrollably; he clenched his teeth and tried for control, but it was impossible.

“Hey Spike, I got you some coffee.”

He redoubled his efforts toward self-control, but to his dismay and shame he was wracked with harsh, dry sobs.

“Spike, what’s wrong?” Buffy got into the back of the car and pushed him upright. “What’s the matter, are you ill?”

He tried to tell her that nothing was wrong, to go away, anything to stop her witnessing his shame, but he couldn’t utter a word. Then, to his shock, he felt her arms go round him pulling his head into her shoulder, and she was rocking him back and forth, whispering soothing words,

“It’s all right; it’s all right, its okay.”

His sobs slowly eased, and he lay quietly in her arms, receiving the comfort that he so desperately needed. He looked up at her face expecting an amused smile or a sarcastic comment, but he saw only sympathy. It was almost too much to bear, and he took a deep unnecessary breath. “Thanks,” he said shakily.

Buffy felt that she was seeing him for the first time – the cocky, world-wise “Spike” mask he wore had slipped, and a more complex creature was showing through. She gently ran her finger down his cheek over the healing cuts and bruises.

“I didn’t know you could feel emotions like that.”

He smiled faintly at what she would think if she knew how much he felt for her, then his expression changed, “You won’t tell...”

“No, it goes no further,” she interrupted, and then said slowly, “Spike, did you do all those things he said you did?”

“What can I tell you Slayer?” pointing to his own chest. “Vampire,” he said matter of factly.

“Would you do it now, if the chip was gone?”

“Dunno. I always thought of humans as prey, you know – happy meals on legs. But now I have to deal with them all the time, and I can’t hurt them when I want to, I’ve even got to like some of them.” His heart lurched painfully as he longed to tell her again of his love. “Buffy,” he hesitated. Did he really want to know the answer? “Why did you and the Watcher risk everything to rescue me?”

“We couldn’t let Mills go on doing what he was doing to you, no-one deserves that.”

“Not even me, the creature you loathe and hate?”

“Not even you Spike,” she said with a grin. “Now do you want this coffee or not?”

He was reluctant to relinquish his place on her shoulder it felt so good, but he heard Giles approaching so he sat up with a sigh and took his coffee.

“I’ve been in touch with a couple of my friends, and one of them, Toby, has invited us to stay with him,” Giles said.

“Does he know Spike’s a vampire?” asked Buffy.

“Well, no – it’s not the sort of thing you discuss on a public telephone. But he’s an old friend of mine and thankfully very broad minded.”

“Look,” said Spike, “perhaps I’d better sod off now, save you all the trouble.”

“Oh, don’t be so stupid, if Laurence Mills can find you in a country the size of the USA, he’d have no trouble hunting you down here, and all that we’ve done would be wasted. Now shut up and let me drive,” snapped Giles.

Spike shrugged, and looked down at his clothing with disgust. “Does this Toby have decent clothes sense? He’s not a retired librarian too is he?” he asked suddenly worried.

Buffy stifled a giggle. Trust Spike to say the inappropriate thing at the most inappropriate time. They reached their destination in the early evening, all of them sunk in their own thoughts. “Well, here we are, and that’s Toby come to greet us,” Giles said wearily.

A rotund, middle-aged man bustled up to them and shook Giles’ hand with both of his.

“Rupert, how good it is to see you after all these years!”

Spike looked him up and down and sighed. Buffy nudged him and he closed his mouth on the sarcastic remark he was about to make.

“This must be Buffy and Spike,” his voice showed his amusement at their names, but his face was expressionless. “How do you do?”

Buffy shook his proffered hand and elbowed Spike in his already bruised ribs, until he also shook the man’s hand.

“Do come in. I have supper laid on for you – you must be exhausted after driving all the way from the Scottish borders.”

“Bet he won’t have any O neg,” muttered Spike, dodging Buffy’s elbow as they followed their host into the house. Over their meal, Giles told Toby some of their tale. He took the revelation about Spike remarkably well.

“Nothing you get up to surprises me, Rupert. Does he need to be fed now?”

“Excuse me, but he is here and can bloody well answer for himself!” Spike was indignant. Toby backed away, suddenly nervous. “And, yes, he does want to be fed now.”

Spike was enjoying the effect he was having; it was like an antidote to all the pain and suffering humans had caused him over the last few months.

“Spike – shut up.” Giles said sharply. “It’s all right, Toby, he won’t hurt you, he...” This time Buffy nudged Giles, and gave him a warning look. “He’s just tired, like we all are.” Buffy completed the sentence for him.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Toby, but it was better that he know as little as possible about them, for safety’s sake. They discussed the safest way of getting a supply of fresh blood, without raising any suspicions, and it was decided that as Spike had fed that day, they would leave it until tomorrow, when they would be on the move again.

Giles and Toby were in the kitchen catching up on old times, while the other two sat sprawled in armchairs in the sitting room. As it was a small house with only three bedrooms, Buffy suggested that Spike sleep on the couch.

“Oh, great,” grumbled Spike, “no decent clothes, no proper food, and now I get to sleep on the sofa!”

“Stop moaning, it’s better than the place you’ve been sleeping in recently,” Buffy said wearily.

Spike looked at her. She was tired, rumpled, and not a little dirty, but she had never looked lovelier to him, and it took all his willpower not to grab her and smother her with kisses. Better wait ‘til my ribs have healed before I try anything like that, he thought to himself ruefully, knowing what her reaction would be.

“Yeah, sorry.”

She looked at him in surprise – was that a genuine apology? He was making a habit of surprising her and going against type.

“I’m going to have a bath, and, before you make any suggestions, no – I don’t want my back scrubbed, and I have been washing my own hair for years!” Buffy swept out of the room and up the stairs.

Spike woke with a searing pain in his fingers, and, for a second, thought he was back in his cell. He yelped and jumped to his feet, swatting at his smoking hand.

“What bloody idiot opened the curtains?” He yelled.

“That would be this bloody idiot.” He swung round to see a small, attractive, middle-aged woman in the doorway.

“Who the hell are you?” he snarled.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” she said calmly. “I am Hilda Norton, Mr Robinson’s housekeeper.”

“Oh, I’m sorry; it’s just that I’m allergic to sunlight,” he said weakly.

“Let me have a look at that hand. We should run it under the cold tap.” She took his hand in hers. “Oh, I seem to have the wrong hand,” she said lifting the other and looking at it closely, seeing no marks at all. She raised her sharp brown eyes to his blue ones. “I could have sworn that these fingers were burnt; but there’s no sign of blisters or anything.” He seemed to be having difficulty in meeting her gaze. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?” she said curiously.

“What? What makes you say that?” Spike was amazed; he had never met anyone quite like this lady.

“I’ve come across one or two in my time,” she said calmly, “but I have some spells that protect me from your kind. You still haven’t told me who you are, or what you are doing here.”

When Buffy came downstairs in search of breakfast, she found Spike perched on the kitchen counter, laughing and talking to a small, capable-looking woman. For a moment, she was transported back to her own kitchen, with her mother and sister enjoying his company – which at the time she hadn’t understood – and she felt an emotion that took a moment for her to recognise: jealousy. What on earth had she to be jealous of? After all she hated Spike didn’t she? Buffy pushed the thought away and came into the kitchen. After the introductions were made, Mrs Norton began bustling around making breakfast; Buffy raised her eyebrows at Spike and motioned him to follow her out of the kitchen.

“It’s all right, she knows I’m a vampire,” Spike said casually.

“You told her!” Buffy was furious.

“Don’t blame him, dear,” Mrs Norton smiled at Buffy as she came through the kitchen door, “I guessed.”

At a loss for words, Buffy gaped at her. Spike smirked, “She’s a witch.”

“And you’re the Slayer,” Mrs Norton said slowly. “Well, well I never thought I’d meet a Slayer.”

Buffy was still having difficulty in forming words, “Wha... what gave you that idea – did he tell you that?” She glared at Spike and bunched her hands into fists.

“No, he didn’t have to. You have the aura.”

“I told you, she’s a witch,” Spike chanced another smirk, “she can sense aura and things.”

“Mmmm, can I smell tea and toast?” Giles came into the room. “What’s wrong, Buffy? You look like someone’s just hit you with a wet kipper.”

He had woken feeling a lot better and more optimistic, but after they introduced him to Mrs Norton, he was feeling worried again.

“Let me get this right. You are a practising witch? How long have you worked for Toby? Does he know about this?”

“Which question would you like me to answer first?” She seemed amused.

“I’m sorry, but this is a bit of a shock, I know Toby won’t have anything to do with magic...”

“It’s all right,” she smiled, “yes, I am a practising witch, I have worked for Mr Robinson for about two years, and no, he doesn’t know.”

“Who doesn’t know what?” asked Toby as he came through the door.

“Oh, we were just saying Spike doesn’t know how to behave properly in company. You just can’t take him anywhere” Buffy said blithely, oblivious of Spike’s glare. She continued before he could say anything, “Okay guys. Let’s plan!”

“I just have to pop out on an errand. It shouldn’t take me long. Why don’t you start without me and I can catch up when I get back.” Toby smiled at Spike nervously. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you, er, some of your special food.” He backed out of the room, and they managed to hold on to their mirth until they heard the front door shut behind him.

They started discussing things over the full English breakfast Mrs Norton had cooked them.

“How did you manage to get in and out of the countries you used to go to? You obviously can’t have a passport.” Buffy’s voice was muffled as she devoured the buttered toast.

“It’s quite easy to get on board a cruise liner as a visitor – Dru and I would find two passengers who looked like us and...” Spike faltered to a halt.

“Then you’d kill them and take their places.” Giles completed his sentence with disgust in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” Spike looked indignant, “we are vampires you know.”

“Well, it’s not going to happen this time – we have to find another way.” Buffy was oddly uncomfortable at the reminder of Spike’s reality.

“No, I wouldn’t harm any innocent bystanders now, even if I didn’t have this bloody chip in my head. I know you wouldn’t like it.”

Buffy looked at him in amazement, but, just as she was about to speak, Mrs Norton said, “Chip in your head?” So they had to explain the situation to her.

“Does Mr Robinson know about this?” They assured her that he didn’t, and she agreed that it was wisest to keep him in the dark. “I don’t know him well. He keeps himself to himself, but I think that he does like to impress people with what he knows, so the less he knows the better.”

“The first thing to do is to try and make Spike less conspicuous,” Giles looked pointedly at Spike’s hair.

Spike glared at him, “It takes a lot of time and effort to get it like this! I’m damned if I’m going to let you mess with it!”

Before they could get into a heated argument, Buffy said, “I dye my hair sometimes, so maybe I should try and, er, tone it down a bit.” Spike was so taken with the thought of her washing his hair that he let the matter drop, much to the others’ surprise.

“Can you get me some decent clothes?” he said plaintively. “I can’t wear this anymore...” he plucked at the tracksuit, at a loss for words to describe his disgust. Buffy grinned at him mischievously,

“I don’t see anything wrong with it. It’s black, isn’t that your favourite colour?”

There was a crashing sound, the door burst open, and Laurence Mills walked, in flanked by his four, armed bodyguards.

“Bloody hell!”

Spike leaped to his feet, looking ‘round frantically for an escape route, his pale face even more pale. Before anyone could move, he had leaped up on the kitchen counter and smashed his way through the window. As he landed in the flowerbed, his whole body flinching at the exposure to the sun, he realised his skin wasn’t smoking. In fact, it felt numbed. He didn’t waste time thinking about it but sprinted towards the trees.

“Get after it; don’t come back until you have it!” Mills was beside himself with fury, but the gun pointed at Buffy never wavered. “How could you help it escape? You are supposed to be a vampire Slayer, not a vampire saver!” he yelled at her.

Buffy said nothing, but just stood, arms crossed, glaring at him, the knowledge that Spike was probably dust at that moment making her feel ill. Mills produced two sets of handcuffs from his pocket and fastened Giles and Buffy securely to wait for the return of the vampire. Buffy surreptitiously looked around for Mrs Norton, but she had disappeared, giving Buffy a grain of hope.

The four heavies fanned out, methodically searching the wood. “He might have survived if he ran quickly enough into the trees, make sure that you look carefully, I’d hate to be the one who has to report that we’ve lost him!” Mills’ second in command, ordered.

Spike watched them, hoping that the dark clothing would camouflage him, but one of them spotted him. He took off running through the undergrowth, fending off branches and brambles as he went, a crossbow bolt narrowly missing him. With no need for oxygen, he soon outstripped his pursuers. He hid in a hollow under a fallen tree, thinking bitterly about how he’d like to rip out their throats if only he could. The hollow was a good hiding place. The men came near but never came close to discovering him as he lay there pressed into the mud. When he was sure they were gone, he made his way slowly and carefully back towards the house.

“There you are!” a voice said softly.

Spike whipped round with a yelp of surprise and fear.

“Don’t worry, dear, it’s only me.”

Mrs Norton beckoned him on, and he followed her to a small cottage some distance away. When they were safely inside, she looked at him quizzically

“Why were you going back to the house? Couldn’t you see that madman was still there?”

“I can’t just leave them there; I’ve got to find a way to get them out.” Spike paced back and forth in his distress.

Mrs Norton stared at him “Why do you care about them?” She looked at him closely, “Ah, I see, you love the Slayer.”

“What? No! I just can’t let them...” he ran out of words as the meaning of what she had said filtered through his brain. “Love her? No, of course not, I mean I’m a vampire...”

“And she’s the Slayer.” Mrs Norton finished for him with a smile. “Well, even if you don’t know it, it’s evident to me.”

“Wait a minute, how did you know how to find me? I know no one was following me, I was very careful.” Spike said, trying to change the subject.

“Didn’t you wonder why the sun didn’t burn you when you jumped out? I cast a protection spell on you when you leaped out the window. The same spell allowed me to find you. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You smell worse than a pigsty.” She pushed him towards the stairs and the bathroom. “Come on, strip off. I think that outfit has seen better days. I’ll see what I find for you.”

He stared at her, doubts and fears clouding his mind. Yet what option did he have, save to trust her? She’d looked after him so far, and he decided to go along with her plans for the moment. She showed no sign of leaving the room, so he stripped off his top and stood, flexing his muscles, smirking at her. She looked at the healing scars on his body and suddenly seemed to realise what she was doing and, for the first time, looked disconcerted.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I’d better let you get on with it.”

“What’s the matter, pet? Don’t you like what you see?” He raised one eyebrow at her, “You can’t say that I’m too young for you – I must be old enough to be your great-great-grandfather.” He said with another grin.

She collected herself, and, smiling broadly, said, “Spike, I don’t think you’ll ever be old enough!”

He looked at her agape; she had really taken the wind out of his sails. Then he roared with laugher along with her and felt better than he had for weeks.

Come dance with me Part 2. By Marianne

"How could you do it? It's supposed to be your sacred duty to rid this world of scum like that - you helped that bloodthirsty monster escape."

Buffy flinched as the words struck home.

"My father's life's work - my life's work - all wasted. All the planning for so many years - I had it in my grasp and you freed it! And as for you."

Mills suddenly darted forward and smashed the barrel of the gun against Giles' head, but before Buffy could react, had retreated to pacing up and down on the other side of the room. He continued his tirade as if nothing had happened.

".my father paid for your education, your training, and this is how you repay his generosity! They had better find the vampire and bring it back, or, or - no they have to find it. I haven't nearly finished its punishment!"

Buffy looked across at her watcher anxiously as he put his handcuffed hands to his face feeling the extent of his injury.

"I'm alright." He said unsteadily.

"I'm so sorry Giles," she whispered, "if only I had dusted him yesterday (was it only yesterday?) none of this would have happened."

"Rubbish!" He said shortly, "that would have meant lowering yourself to his level."

Buffy went back to watching the madman, waiting for any chance to attack him, she surreptitiously tugged at the chain binding her wrists together but it stubbornly refused to break. They were both aware of the time passing, surely they would have found Spike by now if he had survived, neither wanted to think what would happen if the vampire wasn't returned.

The four men clustered outside the front door, "Are we agreed then? We didn't see the vampire after he crashed through the window, OK?" The others shuffled their feet and nodded. The first man took a deep breath and opened the door, and the muffled shouting suddenly became clear, "... they have to find it. I haven't nearly finished its punishment!"

They saw the girl and her watcher sitting on the couch on the far side of the room, both looking tense but unafraid. Mills was pacing back and forth waving a pistol in his hand, "well Cahill, where is it?"

Cahill cleared his throat nervously, "I don't think it survived Boss, we couldn't find any trace of it, we scoured the woods good and proper."

Mills gave an unearthly howl and swung round, "You will pay for this, you bitch!" brought up his hand and aimed the gun straight at Buffy.

The front door slammed open and a platinum-haired figure threw itself at the four guards, howling with rage and pain. Two of them went down, but the other two grabbed the newcomer's hands as they clutched his head, and wrenched them behind his back.

"Spike!" Buffy gasped "where the hell did you come from?"

Mills was crowing with glee, as he saw the vampire being held helpless and at his mercy. "I always knew that vampires were stupid, this one is even more stupid than I thought - did you think that you could take all five of us?"

Suddenly there was a crash from the kitchen, and Mills motioned the two thugs that were not holding the Spike to go and investigate. He raised the gun again and aimed at the blonde, "I'll make you pay for causing me all this trouble."

"That's not going to kill me, Spike managed a smirk.

"No I know it won't, but it will hurt like hell." The millionaire squeezed the trigger twice and Spike was hurled back into the wall along with the two men holding him. One of the men hit his head on the wall as he fell, and the other was trapped under Spike, and Buffy took the opportunity to fling herself at Mills, who had allowed himself to be distracted. She chopped at his wrist, the gun fell to the floor and she kicked it towards Giles. She hit the madman on the chin with her two fists and he crumpled. Giles darted over and snatched up the gun then started to search the fallen man for the keys to the handcuffs.

Buffy went over to where Spike lay, absently punched the guard who was trying to disentangle himself, and knelt by the vampire. His pain filled eyes were open and he smiled crookedly up at her, "Come dance with me and be my love." He whispered, then his eyes rolled up and he fainted.

{"You think we're dancing?"}

{"It's all we ever do"}

"How lovely. Misquote, but still.."

Buffy gave an unslayer-like yelp and twisted round, her hand over her rapidly beating heart.

"Oh, I'm sorry my dear, didn't mean to startle you." The housekeeper smiled from the kitchen door.

Buffy recovered rapidly, "What happened to the two men who went into the kitchen?"

"Oh, I dealt with them." Mrs Norton said calmly, and then saw the worried look on Buffy's face and gestured towards the two unmoving forms on the floor, "Don't worry, they are only asleep; it's a very handy spell to have - used to work on Mr Norton when he came home from the pub on Friday nights drunk out of his skull. but that's another story." For the first time Buffy saw Mrs Norton flustered.

"I think that I'll use it on the others, so that they only wake up when we want them to." She said quickly and walked over to the two guards mumbling some words and touching them gently on the shoulder, and then went over to where Giles was still searching Mills' pockets, smiled at him and saying a few muttered words touched the millionaire, who seemed to tremble for a second and then lapsed into snores. Giles grunted triumphantly as he found the key, and freeing his hands took it over to Buffy. She absently freed her own hands, and looked down at the semi-conscious vampire,

"We have to see to his wounds." She said

"If you'll help me upstairs with him, I'll see to that," the housekeeper smiled at them," don't worry, I used to be a nurse - among other things."

"That woman never ceases to amaze me," muttered Giles.

Buffy half carried Spike up to the bathroom, gently helping him sit on the floor with his back braced against the bathtub.

"Thanks, you had better go and help your watcher plan a way out of this, I don't think that even I can explain five unconscious men away!" Mrs Norton chuckled and ushered Buffy out of the door.

Buffy got half way down the stairs before she remembered the cut on Giles' head, so she turned and made her way back to the bathroom.

"Bloody hell, did I say that? I must have sounded like a right sodding poofter!"

Buffy hesitated outside the door.

"Why didn't you stick to the plan, you stupid vampire - hold still, I'll have to dig this one out."

"I like to make an entrance luv, not that I don't usually of course, what with my good looks and.. Owwww!"

"I told you to keep still. There I've got it. Do you want to keep it as a souvenir?"

"Oh yeah, souvenir of my lovely holiday in England, nearly getting killed every day for sodding weeks, yeah, I think I'll have it framed."

"If you had waited for a few seconds more, this wouldn't have happened."

"If I'd have waited a few seconds more, we'd have been short of one slayer, and gained one royally pissed off watcher!"

"Are you going to tell her you love her?"

"What!"

What! Echoed Buffy on the other side of the door.

"Do you think I've completely fallen off my perch? I tried to tell her a few weeks ago - she let me know in no uncertain terms what she thinks of me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've only loved three women in my long life, two of them told me I'm beneath them, and the other is totally loony - what can I say, I haven't exactly got the best track record."

"Don't just try to tell her - tell her, what's the worst she can do?"

"Uh, luv, she's the slayer & I'm a vampire - do I have to draw you a diagram? Anyway, she's right, I am beneath her, she deserves better."

"She actually said that? Well, and I thought that she was a nice girl."

Buffy winced, and then realised that at any moment they would be coming out of the door. She shot downstairs, and was able to look as though she was just coming up them, when they appeared on the landing.

"Um, I was just coming up for something for Giles' head," she said feebly.

"Nice big brown paper bag would do it." Spike smirked at her.

"Shut up Spike," both women said simultaneously.

"Would you help him downstairs, I'll clean up in here and then I'll bring down a bandage for Mr Giles." Mrs Norton said, placing Spike's arm over the slayer's shoulders.

"OK." "There's no need." They said together.

Buffy tightened her grip on Spike's arm so that he had to accept her help or wrestle with her, and at that moment he felt so tired that he suddenly didn't care as long as he was able to sit down sometime soon.

When they reached the sitting room, Buffy helped the vampire to the sofa and he slumped down bonelessly closing his eyes with a groan. She looked at him and felt a burning sensation in her chest, "how dare he talk about her like that, and to a complete stranger? He couldn't be in love, he didn't know what love was, the soulless, bloodsucking, evil."

"Buffy, um, BUFFY!"

She realised that Giles had been trying to attract her attention for some time.

"Uh, sorry Giles, I was miles away."

"Yes, I could see that. I have contacted the Council, and they.."

"What! The Council? How could you Giles, they are the ones who got us into this mess, if it hadn't been for them we wouldn't have met that maniac!"

"Please listen to what I have to say, and then you can criticise." He sounded so tired and angry that Buffy was suddenly ashamed of her outburst.

"Yeah, sorry Giles, it's been kind of a long day and I'm not patience girl at the best of times."

"Yes, we are all tired, anyway as I was saying I contacted the Council and told them that if they wanted to avoid a scandal, then it is in their best interests to help us to get Spike back to the States."

"You don't have to bother with me Watcher, I can fend for myself - maybe stay in the old country for a while." Spike said in a monotone.

"Oh no, that was one of the conditions for helping us, they want you out of England as soon as possible. I told them about the contacts I have with a certain newspaper and mentioned to them that it wouldn't look good for the Council to be tied in with a lunatic millionaire, who kidnapped and tried to murder two American tourists. They agreed and are going to sort everything out, I don't think that we will get any more trouble from Miles. They will bring a coffin with them, because Spike is already dead, we thought that it would be the best way of getting him out of the country - as a corpse."

Neither of them heard Spike whisper, "no."

"They may want to take the lid off the coffin, just to check, but as Spike doesn't have a pulse and doesn't need to breathe, there shouldn't be any trouble."

"NO!" Spike yelled leaping to his feet. He was out of the door and running towards the woods before Buffy and Giles could react.

Come dance with me Part 3 by Marianne



Buffy and Giles stared at each other in amazement "What the hell is he doing now?" said Giles faintly.

"Dunno, but I suppose I had better go get him back before he gets into more trouble."

"Yes, I think the Council would take a dim view of us losing him again!"

Buffy ran down the path and tried to locate the fleeing vampire, "Where are you, you stupid creature?" she fumed. Catching sight of his white figure disappearing into the trees, she gave chase.

"Must get away, can't let it happen - not again!" Was all Spike could think of as he staggered away from the house wrapping his arms round his chest, feeling the bandages dampening as his wounds started to bleed again. His legs felt like jelly, and his vision was darkening round the edges. "Not again, not again, not again," went round his head like a mantra.

Suddenly he was tackled from behind and he crashed to the ground, Buffy astride him on her knees, stake poised. She wrenched him over on to his back, "what do you think you doing?" she snarled, "after all the trouble you have caused us, I should dust you here and now! Did you think we rescued you just to let you loose in this country? Where do you think you were going anyway, you don't know anyone here, you'd starve to death without us, you stupid brainless creature!"

His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying, and she was uncomfortably aware of damp seeping through the knees of her jeans where she was kneeling on the wet grass. She stared at him, rage and curiosity battling equally in her mind. "Tell me what the hell you are doing," she said venomously.

The vampire struggled feebly against her, "I didn't know you could be such a bloody unforgiving, vindictive bitch. There is no way that you are going to nail me into a coffin, I'd sooner you stake me! Yeah, Slayer, do your precious sacred duty!" He was so far into his rant that he didn't see her stunned expression. It was only when she pocketed the stake and grabbed hold of a handful of his hair and yanked his head off the ground, that he met her furious gaze.

"Unless you tell me now what the hell you are talking about, I'll haul you back to the house by the hair, tie you up and give you to the Council!"

She realised that he was shaking, not with fear but with laughter, and she let go of his hair and his head fell back to the ground with a thud. He looked up at her, and suddenly all the humour in his expression vanished.

"He didn't tell you did he?"

"Huh? Who tell what - listen start making sense or..."

"Mills didn't tell you how I was brought here did he?" the vampire interrupted her.

"No," she said uncertainly.

He gave a humourless smile and then told her in a monotone of his capture and transport to England."

"How long did it take?" Buffy asked in a faint voice.

"Dunno luv, I started counting the times they fed me, guessing that it'd be about once a day, but after 14, things started to get a little fuzzy and I kinda lost it until they tipped me out at the other end."

She shuddered, "they must have taken you by road and sea for it to have taken so long."

"Yeah, every time the movement stopped, I thought it was the end of the journey, but they only loaded me on to another mode of transport and it went on" he said dully, "I even started to think I was a kid again when father locked me in a cupboard.." He stopped, cursing himself for revealing too much, and looked up to try and gauge her reaction. She seemed lost in thought, and he felt a surge of emotion that almost overpowered him. "What're you thinking, slayer?"

She stared at him, he seemed diminished somehow, as if a vital part of him had been torn away. She realised that she was seeing under the "Spike" mask again to the complicated, complex creature that he disguised so well. As she watched, she was amazed to see his eyes fill with tears, her defences lowered and her heart went out to him in sympathy.

"What are you doing? What about all the other vamps you dust without a second thought, do they have feelings too?" The thought was unbearable, how could she keep slaying. No it was better to believe what Giles, the books and the Council said about them - they are all killers, blood-sucking monsters who don't deserve to "live", "you are only sparing this one because he is harmless."

Suddenly realising that she was still kneeling astride him she sprang to her feet, reeling slightly as the blood rushed from her head. "I'm thinking that we had better get back to Giles before he stakes you himself for wasting time," she said coldly as she stalked back towards the house.

Spike was chilled, for a moment it had looked as though she was on his side, and then just as quickly she became the hardened warrior, fully capable of forcing him to travel in a coffin, should she choose to do so. He hauled himself up and moved quickly after her.

"What are you going to do?" he asked trying not to sound afraid.

She stopped suddenly, and he almost ran into her. Without turning she said stonily, "we'll find another way."

He almost fell again, feeling weak with relief, "you are such a wanker, Spike. Frightened of this little girl and her watcher. Huh, who'm I kidding, she could take me with one hand tied behind her back at the moment, I'm so sodding beat."

He followed her back to the house, where a very irate and impatient Giles waited for them.

"What the hell happened? Why did he run off like that?"

Spike groaned and lowered himself on to the couch, this was where his demeaning story was to be retold.

All Buffy said was "We have to find another way to get Spike back to the States."

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, "are you going to tell me why we have to give up a perfectly good plan? I have had to resort to blackmail to get this vampire out of the country - the Council are not going to be best pleased!"

Buffy glanced over to Spike, who sighed and said "It's OK slayer, tell him." So Buffy told the watcher what had happened. All Giles said was "Oh" and sent an unwanted look of pity the vampire's way.

"You are wrong you know, Spike started.

"Oh, I'm wrong again - what am I wrong about this time?" Even Giles looked surprised at Buffy's bitter tone.

"I was just going to say luv, that I do have friends here - they may be able to get me a passport. Course you could always go back as planned, and I'd follow on when I got the papers."

"Spike, I don't think you realise how much the Council want to get rid of you. If you don't go with us, I believe that they will send a squad after you." The watcher sounded weary but convincing.

"In that case, why would they bother with a coffin and all the paperwork that entails? I don't think that they have any intention of helping me - they'll just stake me when they arrive, and bingo no more problem! Lets face it slayer there would be sod-all you could do about it, they'd just be doing your job for you."

Come dance with me Part 4 by Marianne

"Will someone please tell me why we are taking all this trouble to help a vampire?" Buffy said bitterly.

"Hey - I'm very useful to you, got you all sorts of info you'd never have got otherwise." Spike said indignantly.

"Yeah, and some really useful dollars for you too!"

"I haven't been paid for weeks now!"

"That's only because you have been around for weeks!"

"You're missing the point - "

"And the point being?"

"Children, entertaining as it is to hear you bickering all evening, I think we ought to return to the problem at hand." Giles said bitingly.

"He is the problem at hand," muttered Buffy.

"Quite, but having gone this far, I am reluctant to just hand him over to the Council - it would make a mockery of all we have been through the last two days."

"Thanks mate." Spike grunted.

"Believe me, it's not personal, I would have been far happier if Buffy had staked you years ago. Now why didn't you think to tell us about your friends before?"

"Well, you seemed to've got it all under control, with your good friend Toby. He did us right proud didn't he," Spike said with a smirk.

Giles had the grace to look uncomfortable, "Yes, well, I had had no contact with him since college days, only the occasional letter, and he seemed genuine enough."

"Look, this is getting us nowhere. Spike, where are these so-called friends of yours? How will you contact them?" Buffy said impatiently.

"They're not exactly on the 'phone luv, but I know where to look. We need to go to London, Whitechapel to be exact."

"Whitechapel!" Exclaimed the watcher, "that's not a very salubrious area."

"It's not on the tourist trail, that's for sure - but it's where I last had contact with them."

"Isn't that where Jack the Ripper hung out?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Yeah," Spike said nostalgically.

"You were there? Ugh! Don't tell me that you were involved!" Buffy said incredulously.

"Nah, I wasn't much more than a fledgling then, besides not my scene, all that torture and evisceration - I'm the direct sort, you know, see, hunt, kill, feed." Spike said matter of factly. "Now Angelus thought it was fun, especially the letters, he couldn't wait until they were published in the Daily News. Used to bore us silly reading them out, and woe betide anyone who wasn't paying attention."

He missed Buffy's sick expression.

"You know the reward for the capture of Jack was up to £500 - that was a hell of a lot of money in those days. I.." He suddenly realised that the room had gone quite still and both the Slayer and the Watcher were regarding him with disgust. "What? I told you it wasn't me - I was totally controlled by Angelus, what he said went, and I got in a hell of a lot of trouble refusing to help him with his games."

"Games, is that how you saw it!" Buffy yelled at him, trying to block out the images that Spike's reminiscences had brought into her mind. She knew only too well what Angelus was capable of, having experienced some of them first hand.

They all stopped short as they heard a sound at the front door, and only relaxed when they saw that it was the housekeeper. "I've managed to get you this." She held out a flask to Spike.

"Thanks Hilda."

He took it, quickly unscrewed the top and began to gulp the contents. When he caught the look of disgust on the slayer's face, he gave her a sour look and went upstairs to drink in private. They could hear him grumbling, "It's not as if it's the first time she's seen a sodding vampire drinking, surely it's better than taking it from the source."

"I'll get our things together upstairs." Giles followed after the vampire.

Buffy glanced at the housekeeper to gauge her reaction, "Sorry about Spike, we'll take him away with us as soon as we can."

"Oh, don't apologise for him - I think he is rather nice."

"Nice! You do realise that he is a vampire, don't you?"

"Yes, I knew as soon as I saw him really - I just had to open the curtains a bit to make sure. He has rather colourful language doesn't he?" She laughed fondly.

"How do you know so much about vampires?" Buffy asked curiously.

"My brother was killed by one." The housekeeper said evenly.

"Oh! I am so sorry."

"No, don't be my dear, it was a long time ago when I lived in London with my family. It's what made me what I am. I was determined to learn all about them and to find some way to protect me and mine against them. So I learned all I could about magic and the like. I must say that I have never read about or seen a vampire like him though. His aura is unique."

"Aura?" Said Buffy uncertainly.

"Yes, it tells a lot about a person. Spike's is dark of course, because he is, for want of a better phrase, a creature of the night. But it is shot through with green and gold, like yours - I have never heard of a vampire having a colour in their aura, he is very special."

"Who's special?" Spike was coming towards them rubbing his eyes and smothering a yawn. "Thanks for the grub pet, went down a treat." He handed the flask back to the smiling woman.

"Oh, we were talking about my brother." The housekeeper said, shooting a glance at Buffy, who was still recovering from what she had just heard.

"Oh yeah, live locally does he?" Spike asked politely.

"Come on, stop asking stupid questions and get going. We've got a long way to go and not a lot of time." Buffy said to distract him.

"I haven't got anything to get together luv - what you see is all I got." He smirked and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," Mrs Norton said offering him a plastic bag, "I meant to have given this to you earlier."

Spike looked inside and then drew out a black T-shirt, and stood gaping at it. When he made no move to put it on, Buffy snatched it out of his hand and looked at the front. She started to laugh.

"That's right, laugh it up luv - you haven't got to wear the sodding thing!"

"What's all the hilarity about?" Giles struggled down the stairs with two suitcases in his hands.

Buffy said nothing but just reversed the shirt so that Giles could read the front. There was a large cartoon simian hanging from a branch with the slogan "Urban Gorilla" underneath.

"I'm sorry Spike, that's all I could find at such short notice," Mrs Norton had a suspiciously wicked twinkle in her eye. "You go through clothes like nobody's business."

After they had forced the disgruntled vampire into his new shirt, and stored all their belongings in the car, they took their leave of the still chuckling housekeeper. She hugged a startled Spike and then said, "I have one more present for you, I hope you like this one better." And she gave him a small box.

"What's this?" he said, his expression a mixture of wonder and pleasure, he couldn't remember the last time anyone had given him anything. Unless you counted Dru's gifts, and they tended to bleed and scream a lot. "Well, unless you open it you'll never find out."

He slowly opened the box, and brought out a sliver coloured metal band upon which hung a beautiful blue crystal, echoing the colour of his eyes.

"Come on, I'll help you put it on."

He obediently lowered his head and Mrs Norton fixed it round his neck.

"It's a ward, isn't it?" Spike asked.

"Yes, some of my best work, even though I do say so myself."

"A ward?" Buffy said.

"Yeah luv, it stops people putting the mojo on me." Spike put his hand up to his neck, wishing desperately that he could see what it looked like.

"Well, it won't stop all magic, no ward can do that." Mrs Norton replied, "but it will let you know when magic is present, and will stop some of the more common spells working on you."

"I don't know how to thank you," Spike said sincerely.

"You don't have to, I've had more fun the last 24 hours than I've had for the last, well I don't know how long."

"Fun!" snorted Buffy.

"Yes, not a lot of fun for you I admit - being threatened with a gun is not one of life's best experiences, but not a lot happens around here and I hadn't realised how dull my life had become."

Spike caught hold of her hand and brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "If you ever find yourself in Sunnydale California, look me up and we'll see if we can have some more fun." He smiled genuinely, kissed her forehead, and got into the car.

"Well, I will echo the vampire's sentiments," Giles smiled and shook Mrs Norton's hand, here's my card, if I can be of service to you at any time, please call me."

Buffy looked at the older woman uncertainly, "Um, yes, well thank you. You saved our lives, I hope that it doesn't bring you any trouble."

"I'll be long gone before the people from the Council get here, and I will deny all knowledge of what went on - I'm just a simple housekeeper, don't know anything." She chuckled. "And don't forget I'm not the only one who saved lives today."

Before Mrs Norton could say any more, Buffy shook her hand and fled to the car.

They hadn't been travelling for more than five minutes, when the Watcher and the Slayer heard a noise from the back, they both swung their heads round and were met with the sight of Spike sprawled out on the back seat fast asleep. "What is that noise?" Buffy asked.

"I believe he is purring." Giles faced forward with a smile.

"Purring! Vampires purr? Well, you learn something new every day." She tucked this bit of knowledge away, you never know when something like that will come in useful. She looked forward to teasing him with it. Woah! Teasing him? Where had that thought come from. Now she had nothing to do but think about what had happened over the last two days, and reflect upon what the housekeeper had said. "Special?" Spike is special? It's not the word I would use for him, she thought - obnoxious, cocky, irritating - those are the words that suit him better!

Before she could stop it a series of images of him rushed through her mind. Being held by Mills' thugs, hands chained behind him, blank eyed and beaten. Sitting in the kitchen, laughing and joking with Mrs Norton. The look of sheer terror on his face when Mills found them. Spike flying through the air yelling with rage and pain, tackling 5 humans, his chip punishing him. Lying on the floor bleeding from two gunshot wounds, quoting poetry. Lying underneath her in the wood, a look of - of; she forced herself to admit it - a look of pure love on his face for a second, until she wiped it off with her words, the look of wonder on his face when looking at the gift the housekeeper had given him. Mrs Norton said that he was different from any other vampires she had met or heard of - perhaps that was her get out clause. It didn't mean that she was wrong in slaying other vampires, they really were vicious, bloodsucking things. She leaned back with a sigh, I think I'm so tired now anything seems logical.

Giles looked over at her, "We'll stop for the night soon, I just want to get some distance between us and the house, in case the Council come looking."

"Do you think they will?" Buffy asked

"I think that maybe Spike was right, they would love to get their hands on him - they'd call it research I'm sure." he replied grimly, "Using the excuse of getting him out of circulation, even though he can't hurt humans. His chip is something they'd like to "research" at length, I don't think even Spike deserves their hospitality."

Buffy nodded, the thought of Spike in the council's hands was suddenly abhorrent. It would be out of the frying pan into the fire.

Come dance with me Part 5 by Marianne

"Come on Spike, wake up, we're here."

Growling he tried to push away the finger prodding him in the chest. "Go 'way, sleeping now." He said inarticulately. The finger renewed its assault, so he gave up and opened an eye, "Wha'?"

"I said wake up, unless you want to be toasted vampire, in which case get out of the car anyway, the dust will take a lot of explaining away." Buffy poked him again.

"Bloody hell, couldn't you find a parking space under cover!" Spike groused as he crawled out of the back seat and stretched the kinks out of his muscles.

"Oh shut up, and get inside."

Spike eyed her suspiciously, she sounded almost jovial - for the slayer that is.

"Where are we?"

"Giles said that we are about 2 hours away from London, he thought it would be safer to stay here for a few hours to get some rest before we try to find your friends. Imagine - you having friends!"

Spike revised his earlier opinion, he must have imagined it, this was more like the attitude he always got from her. Mind you "friends" was pushing it a bit, he and Dru had left Whitechapel last time rather hurriedly, after a slight misunderstanding.

He walked into the small hotel and was guided by Buffy up the stairs to a landing with two doors. He waited patiently for her to tell him which was his, and was surprised when she opened one of the doors, entered and beckoned him in. Well, life was looking up! He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Buffy pointed to a couch, "that's where you are sleeping. Giles found it cheaper to get a suite with two bedrooms rather than three singles."

"Bully for Giles, I suppose he's got the other bedroom!"

"He is paying for it!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry I forgot to pack my wallet before I started on my merry jaunt! And now I've get to sleep on a sofa again!"

"Spike, you were content to sleep in the back of the car - I'm sure the couch is a lot more comfortable for a creature who normally sleeps on a sarcophagus." She gestured to a door, "that's where I'm sleeping - and before you get any ideas - I sleep with a stake under my pillow." And with that she swept into her room and closed the door.

He heard the snick of the lock and sighed as he slumped down on the couch. Now that he had taken the edge of his tiredness, he found sleep elusive, and having the slayer in the next room wasn't helping.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes, arms outstretched along the sofa's back. "Ah, Slayer", he sighed as a series of images of her ran through his mind. Her shocked look when the hood was pulled off his head and she saw the state of him. (I thought I was dreaming). Her calm acceptance when he had sobbed like a pouf in her lap, when he was expecting ridicule. Her indignation when she thought he had told Mrs Norton what she was. Her shock when he threw himself at the armed men. Her fury when he ran away and then her look when he told her of his capture and transport - just for a second he thought he had seen - what? Understanding? Empathy? Sympathy even, but it had disappeared so quickly he wasn't sure that he had seen it at all. Then her look of disgust when he opened his sodding great gob and told her about Angelus. Why bring Angelus into it at all, sometimes he even disgusted himself.

He knew that he loved her more than his own unlife, more even than he had loved Dru - Why me? Suddenly a terrible thought dawned upon him, perhaps the behavioural modification chip did more than stop him hurting humans, perhaps it made him like them! He shuddered, that's like a leopard liking deer, a wolf liking lambs! The thought sickened him, why he even found himself beginning to like the Watcher, and he was growing to love Dawn like a sister. Then his thoughts slipped to Xander Harris and he was immediately reassured - he hated that wanker! The only reason he still lived was originally because of the chip and then because he was a friend of Buffy. Then he was picturing her again, only this time....

He found himself lying flat with his hands by his sides, paralysed, realising that he was back in the coffin, looking up through the small hatch. And suddenly there she was standing above him, hammer in hand, giving him a look of cold hatred as she started to drive in the nails.

"It's time,"



BANG

"you went,"

BANG

"back into the ground,"

BANG

"where you belong."

BANG

He tried to scream, beg and plead with her, but he could make no sound other than a pathetic whimper.

Buffy lay listening to the noises coming from the next room - what was going on in there? Perhaps vampires dreamed of hunting when they were asleep, like her auntie's dog in front of the fire, legs twitching, growling and whimpering while he chased dream rabbits.

She couldn't remember Angel making any noises while he slept, but then there was no comparison between the two vampires. Spike always gave the impression of being slightly alien - there was no way that you'd mistake him for human if you spent any time in his company. He was sublimely confident, direct, constantly on the move, full of nervous energy, his body angled, stalking about like the predator he was. Angel seemed much more human, easier to understand and cope with. But then of course he had a soul. She felt the familiar pain upon thinking of the souled vampire, and cursed Spike for stirring up feelings that she had safely stored away. But now she had started thinking about him she couldn't stop, all the defences she had carefully built up crumbled away as she examined the relationship.

Angel was her first and greatest love, she had been so young, so innocent and the first night they had consummated their relationship, Angelus was reborn. She looked at those months full on for the first time - how incredibly painful and hurtful that time had been. She really didn't know how she had survived. Now she was allowing herself to look at them dispassionately, she realised that the only way she had defeated the rogue vampire was by making a truce with another one - Spike. Before that, every time she had had a chance of staking Angelus, she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it, even when all the black, evil words were dripping from his mouth. She looked back and saw that Evil Angelus was so much more evil than Spike and that was before the blonde had the chip planted in his head. I like this world he had said, when all Angelus wanted to do was destroy it. When Willow did the spell to restore Angel's soul and he found his way back from hell, he had been different. Not surprising perhaps, but when he had insisted that he leave for her sake, he had broken her heart all over again.

Perhaps there was something in what Mrs Norton had said about Spike, that he was different - no what had she said - special? And his aura having green and gold in it, not the usual dead black that would have been expected, but unfortunately that conversation had been interrupted and she hadn't been able to ask any questions.

She lay thinking about how her life sucked, and now even her vacation sucked. Oh great, now I can't sleep and I need to pee. She got up and went into the bathroom. When she finished she couldn't resist the temptation of looking in on Spike and finding out what he was doing - I might regret this, she thought ruefully. Spike was lying rigid on the couch, occasionally twitching slightly and still making small whimpering noises. She stopped and looked down at him curiously, he seemed to be having a nightmare not a dream and she fought the urge to lean down and stroke him comfortingly. Nope, better leave that well alone - mustn't give him the wrong impression, especially at night when he was in a horizontal position. She had to admit there didn't seem to be too much predator in him at the moment, more like a little boy lost. Woah, so not going there!



When Buffy woke the next day, she felt as though someone had lifted a heavy weight from her chest. She had been carrying all those feelings of guilt and sorrow about Angel around for so long, that she hadn't realised how much they had affected her. As she got up, she began to hum, and as she showered she began to sing in a loud silly voice, dodging in and out of the spray and making a large puddle on the floor.

Spike was hunched on the sofa, his head in his hands. His eyes felt gritty and his body was stiff and sore. He felt as though someone had wrapped a large metal band round his chest, the feeling of tension was too much. He heard the Slayer begin to hum and then sing.

"Someone's bloody cheerful this morning" he groused under his breath as he surged to his feet and began pacing up and down the room "I dunno what she's got to be so sodding happy for."

The English witch had treated him like a human, like a man, and he thought of her fondly. "But she knows nothing about Buffy - just tell her you love her, indeed!" He'd be lucky to get away with a broken nose, no she'd probably dust him to make sure that he never said it again. For his age he'd had no real experience of women, hadn't needed it with his dark princess taking up all his time, and he didn't think that Buffy would appreciate being treated like a mad vampire. He didn't count the women that he had charmed and shagged and drained usually within the same hour. They were nothing to him, and Buffy was everything.

"Oh, sodding hell!"

Buffy finished her shower, and heard movement on the other side of the door; she opened it and peered out. Spike was walking towards the main door,

"Where do you think you are going?" she asked

"None of your sodding business!" he snapped back, then he looked again, craned his neck, and said in a different voice, "are you naked behind there?"

"Don't even go there," she said as she closed the door to a crack and pulled the skimpy towel more tightly around her body, "in fact don't go anywhere, I won't be long."

She dried and dressed herself quickly, and then heard Giles calling to her, "is Spike in there with you?"

"What! No, of course not."

"Then he has done a disappearing act again." Giles' voice was filled with venom.

"I told him not to go anywhere, but when does he ever listen to me, or to anyone come to that."

She flung open the door and stormed down the stairs, beginning a search of the hotel. After about five minutes and a thorough search, she was about to give up when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A white blonde head appeared on the other side of the reception desk, he was busy looking around and as Buffy approached, he picked something up and put it in his pocket.

"Spike, what do you think you are doing?"

He swung round at her voice, but didn't even have the grace to look guilty.

"Got bored, so I thought I'd have a look around. Hey!"

She had grabbed a handful of his shirt, and was hauling him round to the other side of the counter, and then she dragged him up the stairs.

He leaned back against her pull and said "Why don't you get me a nice collar and lead luv, it'd save on the clothes."

They both looked down to where her fist was grasping, and ripping, his shirt, she looked back at him with a glimmer of a smile, "I'll get you a nice big bell too, then I might be able to keep track of you." With that she let go, and with a yelp he tumbled backwards down the stairs.

"Ah, the feline grace of the predator," she intoned in a National Geographic voice and broke into giggles.

As he lay sprawled at the foot of the stairs he glared up at her furiously, she had never looked lovelier to him, even with eyes streaming and face contorted with laughter.

"Bloody hell Slayer!" he growled, but he couldn't keep up the façade of anger, the laughter was so infectious, and when she offered him her hand he could hardly see it through his own tears of mirth. They propped each other up as they made their way back to the room.

"I found him Giles."

"I think the whole bloody hotel knows that you found him. So much for a low profile."

They both sobered and looked suitably contrite.

"What's wrong with you Spike, why can't you stay in one place for five minutes?" Giles snapped.

"Well, I am the big bad you know. Evil."

Buffy looked at Spike and put her hand over her mouth to try and stifle more giggles, Spike caught her eye and they both collapsed into laughter again. Giles looked at them and against his will began to smile and then chuckle, even though he had no idea what he was laughing at. It was good to see Buffy laugh. I can't remember the last time I saw her so relaxed and happy he thought, maybe I'll give the vampire the benefit of the doubt.

After Buffy and Giles had breakfasted, Giles went shopping and brought back some fresh clothes for Spike and three containers of blood. When the vampire had eaten and freshened up in Giles' room, they checked out of the hotel.

"Ah," said Spike as they approached the front entrance, "vampire weather."

The sky was grey and it was pouring with rain. Buffy and Giles exchanged long-suffering looks. "Well, we did have almost two weeks of sunshine", said the watcher consolingly. "Come on, let's get Spike's papers and we can get back to sunny California."

Neither of them saw the apprehensive look Spike shot at them



To be continued...

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