Chapter 6:

Spike slouched in the back of the car, a blanket draped over him, clicking his fingers and then tapping them on any hard surface he could find. He thought about what had just happened. First she had just laughed at him - well he was used to that - but then she laughed with him. What did it mean? What should he make of it? Was it a kind of flirting? If so, what should he do now? He stared at the back of her head as if it could give him some insight as to what was going on in her mind and wondered what the bloody hell he should do now.

To take his mind off it, he started to try and remember all the Ramones' songs in order, and then to sing them under his breath.

Buffy had the feeling that the vampire was staring at her, but didn't want to turn round in case he was. If someone had told her that she'd be laughing with Spike as if he were a friend, a couple of weeks ago - well even a couple of days ago, she would have thought that they were mad. She wondered what his next move would be, but judging from his previous behaviour, it would be something totally unexpected. Suddenly he started to sing, clicking his fingers and then tapping them on the back of her seat - oh he could be so irritating.

"Spike, settle down already!"

He then started to criticise Giles' driving skills, and then trying to navigate from thirty-year-old memories and inevitably getting them lost.

"Is it me, or is he being even more obnoxious than usual?" Giles commented bitterly after he had stopped to scan the road map, "or is that possible?"

Spike seemed oblivious of their anger towards him, blithely humming and tapping away until they threatened to tie him up and put him in the trunk of the car.

"It's called a boot, you morons - you should know that Watcher - boot, bonnet, accelerator, clutch, gear stick - huh! Americans never did learn the English language properly!"

They finally reached Whitechapel station and after some "discussion", decided to leave the car there.

"Right then watcher, get three tickets to the next station."

"In which direction?"

"Doesn't matter, we'll only be using them to get on the platform. Was a time when you could get a platform ticket for tuppence - that was in old money," reminisced Spike, "not that Dru and I ever bought one of course."

"What is he talking about?" Asked Buffy in bewilderment.

"He's talking about the dim and distant past, before decimalization of the pound," explained Giles to a still puzzled Slayer.

"Come on you two, stop yapping and get a move on."

Ignoring their glares, Spike headed to the station entrance, barely pausing while Giles got the tickets from an automatic dispenser. They followed him down the stairs and along to the end of the platform. Just as they thought that they would have to walk along the tracks, he suddenly turned sharply to his right and disappeared from sight. Buffy increased her pace and when she got to the place she saw a doorway marked "Staff Only".

"He must have gone in here."

They opened the door to find an impatient vampire waiting for them.

"What kept you?"

He headed off again at a brisk pace, leaving them to trail behind. He had been worried that he would not be able to find his way about in the tunnels, but now it all came flooding back and he remembered the last time he was here. That hadn't gone too well - he and Dru had had to leave in a hurry when she had brought home some still live "presents" for them, and then he thought he would never have to visit this place again. But the master forger called the Scribe had to be found, so that he could get the documents he needed to leave the country.

He could hear Giles puffing and panting behind him and he grinned to himself, but he slowed down to let them catch up.

Buffy saw Spike take something from his pocket, and it was only when he struck the match that she realised he had a pack of cigarettes in his hand.

"Where did you get those from?" then she remembered, "you took them from the hotel!"

"Saw them lying about, thought no-one wanted 'em." He said casually.

"You stole them from behind the hotel reception desk." Buffy reached up and slapped the cigarette out of his hand.

"Hey! I haven't got many left - anyway, serves people right if they don't look after their things properly."

Something inside Giles snapped, he caught hold of the vampire's shoulders and slammed him into the wall. "It's about time you told us what you are leading us into and where the hell we are!" He snarled.

Spike looked into Ripper's eyes and the hairs on his neck rose. He hadn't often seen the other side of the Watcher's personality, and when he had, he had always come of worse.

"OK, OK, " Spike said holding out his hands palm forward placatingly, "these tunnels, along with most of the underground railway around here, were built at the end of the nineteenth century. Along here aways there is a "ghost station" that was built at the same time but became disused around the 1930s. Its called St Mary's - they used it as an air raid shelter during the Second World War, but since then they kind've forgot it."

"So the vampires took it over." Giles murmured.

"Yeah, that's right - it's perfect. Tunnels leading all over the city and a nice big HQ with lots of rooms." Spike smirked at them, "very cosy. The vamp that runs things around here by the name of Karl is a wise old bird. Wouldn't let anyone bring back their kills, and made them all use different parts of town to hunt, so that this place has been safe for over 50 years. Now don't you think you'd better let me go Watcher, people might start to talk." He curled his tongue suggestively, and Giles dropped his hands from the vampire's shoulders as if he had been burnt.

"Look, we can stand around here all day yammering if you want, but we have a way to go yet, and I for one would like to get this over with." Spike strode away and the other two found themselves trailing along behind as before.

After a while, Buffy began to feel as though she was being watched; her Slayer senses told her that there were vampires about.

"Yeah," said Spike, as though he had read her mind, "the guards have seen us. Now both of you, play along if you want to get out of here - there'll be too many for you to fight, let alone kill," he said warningly, as they were surrounded.

"Well, I'm glad to see that standards haven't slipped since I was last here." Spike grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets. Then as it looked as though Giles and Buffy were going to be attacked, he said, "these humans are mine -"

"Spike! Is it you? Well I thought we had seen the last of you years ago!" A large dark-haired vampire towered over the bleached blonde. Spike looked at him thoughtfully and then grinned,

"Well, well, Chris as I don't live and breathe! How are you mate?" and he reached up and slapped the other on the shoulder.

Chris grinned back at him and then gestured towards the Watcher and Slayer, "did you say these were your humans? Since when do you have your meals follow you about?"

They started walking down the tunnel again, the watcher and slayer surrounded by a crowd of curious vampires.

"I've just come over from the States - it's all the rage over there. You know they invented fast food? Well now they have food on the hoof!" Buffy and Giles were looking at him stony-faced, Spike had not had time, or inclination, to explain the concept to the humans, and was hoping that they would follow his lead. "Yeah, I've this thrall thing going, and they follow me everywhere, handy for snacks and such like". Before anyone else could speak, he said hurriedly, "so where's Karl then, I - "

"You are out of date. Karl doesn't rule here anymore, the boss is a vamp by the name of Gryphon." Chris said soberly. "He managed to beat Karl, and it was the worst thing that could have happened to us here. Gryph let his minions bring back live prey, and they always used the same tunnels to go in and out of. It was only a matter of time before it was noticed. And now we have the Exterminators to deal with."

"What the bloody hell are the Exterminators?" asked Spike curiously.

"London Underground got tired of having the reputation of losing passengers, so they have employed a company to rid themselves of the "vermin" in the tunnels. I am using their term of course." He added hastily. "When they thought that all they were facing were rats and the like, they were easy to pick off, and discourage. But lately they have brought in someone who knows a thing or two about vamps, and the tide has turned against us. We are thinking of heading out, and finding somewhere else to hang out."

"First I need to do a little business with the Scribe, can you tell me where I can find him?" Spike asked quickly.

"Sorry mate, the Scribe was one of the first vamps to disappear. We have lost over half our number now, and it doesn't look as though they will stop until we are all gone," he sounded aggrieved.

Spike tried not to show his fury and apprehension - if he couldn't get papers from the Scribe, then all this was for nothing.

They had entered a large space, Giles looked round and saw a faded sign on the wall "St Mary's", so this must be the "ghost station". He looked round curiously, there were several groups of vamps who all looked angry or nervous. Someone from the back of the crowd called out, "we want to see Gryph!"

Spike's apprehension grew, they didn't want to get mixed up in an internecine war. He motioned to the two humans, and they drifted back through the growing crowd. Buffy looked back at him and gasped, "The crystal is glowing!"

He realised that he'd been feeling a vibration from the crystal, but had been too busy to process the information. He put his hand up to his neck and touched the stone - it was warm. "There must be magic about. Come on don't let's hang about here."

Giles suddenly crumpled to the floor, and Buffy stumbled into Spike. "What's wrong luv?" The vampire held on to the girl, as she seemed to struggle to keep her eyes open.

"It must be a sleeping spell or something, I can hardly keep my eyes open," she whispered. "Help Giles."

Spike lifted the Watcher easily onto his shoulder, and supported Buffy round the waist as they moved as quickly as they could back towards the tunnel they had entered by.

The room had gone quiet, as one by one, the vampires had all fallen where they had stood. There was a shout behind them, and as Buffy looked back, a group of four men armed with cross bows had come through another tunnel and were shouting at them to stop.

"Quickly," she managed to say through the growing clouds in her mind, "cross bows."

There was a whirring sound behind them and Spike grunted as a bolt hit him in the back, luckily missing his heart. Another group of men appeared from the tunnel that they were making for, also armed with cross bows. Spike was trapped between the two groups, and did the only thing left open to him. He struggled towards the wall. Another bolt hit him in the leg, he staggered but did not fall, as he reached the wall he propped Giles against it, gently pushed Buffy behind him and stood at bay, game faced.

Chapter 7:

Professor Michael Mackness leant back from his crouched position over his computer with a groan. I must learn to stretch more often, he thought as he tried to rub the ache out of his shoulders.

He thought back over the last few years, to when he was a happily married man with twin boys and a satisfying job at the university. True, his peers rather looked down at him because of his research into demonology, magic and legend, but life had been good until five years ago when his wife died leaving him with two teenagers and not an idea of how to bring them up.

Well, he thought, I couldn't have done a bad job - they have both gone to university. But that was when he realised how much he had relied on his wife to look after the finances. Sending both his sons to Cambridge was very satisfying but also very expensive. Money had become such a problem that he reluctantly thought about selling the family home and buying a much smaller house further out of London. Then out of the blue, a man had contacted him.

"Professor Mackness? My name is Martin Fraser, I saw you on TV the other night, and I was so interested that I managed to get hold of your book - "Vampires and demons - fact or fiction?"."

Michael was a little embarrassed about the rather populist book, which he had been persuaded to write as a way of raising some money. It had not been a success, had barely covered expenses and it had not been well received at the university either. Then when the first Harry Potter novel had been published, a BBC researcher had contacted him and asked him to come on to a children's show called "Blue Peter". He had agreed, and since then they had wheeled him out whenever there was a discussion on magic or demons.

A couple of days before, the BBC had contacted him again to talk about the new Harry Potter film. This time he managed to get a plug in for his book, hoping that it would get back into print, and earn him some much needed money.

He had realised that the man was still speaking. "I wonder if I could have a few moments of your time Professor. I think you can solve a problem for me about the disposal of certain, um, creatures."

That was how it had started. Fraser had offered him twice the salary he received from his teaching job, research facilities and the incredible information that vampires not only existed, but that there were hundreds of them infesting the Underground railway system. All he had to do was to work out a way of ridding them of this "problem". He felt as if his life's work had been vindicated and the only blot on the horizon was that he was sworn to secrecy.

"If word gets out Professor - think about the panic it would cause - not to mention the loss of business for London Underground."

So here he was, with an office larger than the Dean of the University's and a small but well equipped research facility. True, he couldn't share his work or research with anyone else, but he had always been a lone wolf and it gave him such great satisfaction. The company employed a team of men who were paid well not to ask any questions. They were a bit rough around the edges - no who was he fooling - they were rough all the way through, and not a little stupid. But he was happier than he'd ever been, with actual vampires to study and catalogue, in fact they had brought him so many that he'd had to stop the supply just recently to give him time to catch up.

In fact that was why he was spending so much time crouched over this damned PC, there was an enormous amount of information to catalogue. He had discovered that the forehead ridges of each vampire were slightly different and was busily scanning in the digital photographs he had taken. At first he just used a few randomly selected vampires to keep for his tests, but he found that they seemed to either lose interest in living or went mad when deprived of their food for any length of time, and even demons didn't deserve to suffer that much. So now he asked for a fresh supply of the demons every few days, to enable him to cope with all the new information, and then had them disposed of. He had almost lost one of his "assistants" the first week, when a vampire tore through the bindings they thought were unbreakable and he had to hastily bring in some reinforced steel manacles, to restrain them when he was taking measurements and samples.

He was shaken from his reverie, when someone pounded on his door. He frowned in annoyance, "Who's that? I thought I told you that I was not to be disturbed."

Johnson, one of the disposal team, popped his head round the door, "You told us to let you know if we saw anything special Prof. - well come and see this!" The man was practically hopping up and down with excitement.

Michael sighed, "OK, I need a break anyway - what is it? A new type of .."

He was interrupted by an unearthly howling.



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Hilda Norton had smiled vaguely at the tweed-suited men who'd knocked on her door. No, she knew nothing about any unconscious men at her employer's house, she only worked there a few hours a week. She brightened up, what had happened? Were they burglars? Had there been any fighting? Was there blood? Could she come and look? They were uninterested in her questions and seemed desperate to get away after a few minutes.

When they had left, she'd collapsed against the door trying to stifle her chuckles. It was a shame that she had no-one to share the fun with, knowing that she could never tell anyone - not even her own coven - what had happened over the last day or so.

The next morning, she busied herself in the garden, garnering herbs and vegetables, and weeding as she went along. At last, a little tired, she made herself a cup of tea, and reflected upon all the events of the last couple of days - the three unique people that had come into her life. A Watcher, a Slayer and a Vampire, mmm sounds like the title of a bad novel she thought to herself, although who would believe a story like that!

The Watcher - there was a misnomer if you like - he couldn't see what was happening under his very nose - or perhaps he just didn't want to see that the vampire loved the slayer. He was unusual, a Watcher who thought of his charge as his daughter, she thought uneasily. If he allowed himself to recognise the facts, then he wouldn't hesitate to stake Spike. Well, all she could do was hope that Buffy would see Spike for what he was before that happened.

And then there was the Slayer, a beautiful, strong young woman who held the non-beating heart of the vampire in the palm of her hand. A classic case of denial if she had ever seen one. Though who was to blame her, after all it was what she had been taught - all vampires are evil, murdering monsters - and to admit to anything else was to deny her calling. If only they hadn't had to rush off, perhaps I might have convinced her that this vampire is different from the blueprint Mrs Norton thought sadly.

And then Spike, ah Spike, she thought, if only I were ten years younger (well all right twenty), she smiled to herself. The first time she saw him she knew what he was, and her first instinct was to destroy him there and then. Then she saw his aura, and was absolutely staggered. No demon that she had ever seen or read about had colour in its aura, yet parts of this creature's glowed. It left her wondering if she had made a mistake, so she exposed his hand to the sun, which had proved beyond doubt that he was a vampire. His first reaction should have been to launch himself at her and rip out her throat, but instead (after a bit of colourful cursing) he had apologised! And then he had engaged her in a lively conversation, only quietening when the slayer had entered the room.

She had seen his face when he caught sight of Buffy and for a second the hard expression he used normally had slipped and his love shone out. She smiled ruefully and had to admit to a small shaft of jealousy, but they had made a magnificent if incongruous couple

Suddenly she gasped and doubled over in agony - was this what a heart attack felt like? No, she felt a blade of pain in her back and another in her upper leg - she was sure that the left arm was involved in a heart attack, not the left leg. She muttered a few words and forced the pain down, examining herself for wounds or marks of any kind. She could see nothing, even when she stripped off in the bathroom and awkwardly looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. Then the pain faded into the background, and she almost sobbed in relief. Staggering into her bedroom, she lay down and tried to think what could have caused this. She must have dozed off, because she woke with an almost unbearable pain in her throat. She gasped and choked putting her hands to her neck - what the hell was going on? Then an unearthly howling filled her mind.

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Buffy groaned, and tried to push away the hand that was shaking her shoulder.

"Buffy! Thank goodness you are awake."

She opened her eyes to see a relieved Giles smiling down at her, and pulled herself up on to her elbows. She groaned again. "The nausea and dizziness should stop in a few moments" he said reassuringly.

She looked around, they were alone in a large room with bunk beds around the walls, "where's Spike?"

"Oh I expect he ran off at the first sign of trouble," Giles sounded resigned.

"No he didn't." Buffy then explained to him what had happened.

"He carried me?"

"Yeah, and half carried me too. The last thing I remember was him sheltering us and trying to fight off a crowd of humans. Where are we? Have you looked around? Maybe he is in a different place?"

"Buffy, we have to face the fact that he is probably dust by now."

She looked at him blankly, no that couldn't be right - Spike no longer existed? Her heart clenched in her chest, and she found suddenly that it was difficult to breathe

"I won't believe that until we have searched this whole place from top to bottom." She said firmly.

Suddenly they heard a faint and unearthly howling.

Chapter 8:

Spike slowly fought his way back to consciousness. He was immediately hit by a wave of agony, and he tried to plunge back down into oblivion, without success. The stench of his own blood mixed with burning flesh made him want to vomit. What the sodding hell was happening? He opened his eyes blearily, and he discovered that the room was swinging round him as if he was on a gimbal. He strained to sit up, but could only move his head. The gnawing pain was centred in his torso and neck; it felt as though his throat had been torn out. He lowered his eyes and looked down his body to the source of the burning in his chest. He could make no sense of it - something dark red and glistening poked through his skin.

He looked at the wall beyond his feet. Dozens of pictures of vampires, all in full vamp face stared back at him. Most looked unconscious, some looked as if they were yelling obscenities or screaming in pain. Others looked passively into the camera seemingly having accepted their fate or perhaps beyond caring. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that these fellow demons existed no more.

He turned his head painfully to his right and saw banks of electronic equipment, microscopes and computers. On a table next to him a tray of bloodied surgical instruments mixed with, bizarrely, implements that would not look out of place in a workman's toolbox. All the necessary tools needed for vivisection, or whatever happened here. His first desperate thought was that the Initiative must have recaptured him, and that history was repeating itself - they were doing their "tests" on him. He couldn't go through that again. Overcome with rage he closed his eyes and howled out his terror and despair.

Suddenly, memory returned and his eyes snapped open. The object sticking out of his chest was the crossbow bolt that had hit him in the back when they were attacked in the tunnels, and it was now forced right through his body. He was bound to an operating table, metal bands restraining him, but he could think of only one thing.

"Buffy!"

The last thing he could remember was trying to fight off several humans and failing, as his chip did its usual job of beating him down. His stomach clenched in fear. What had they done to his Slayer? He looked to his left and saw a man in blue overalls with the name "Treadwell, A," on a badge pinned to the pocket.

"What have you done with Buffy you bastard? Where is she? If you have hurt one hair of her head, I'll put my hand down your throat and rip your sodding lungs out! Buffy! BUFFY!"

The man hastily took up a crossbow, levelled it at Spike and yelled "Hey, Jeff - hurry up, this one's going crazy!" The man's obvious fear gave the vampire a deep glow of satisfaction.

Professor Mackness hurried down the corridor towards his laboratory, while Johnson puffed along behind. The incessant howling had been unsettling enough, but it was now replaced by an even more intolerable bellowing. The Professor shot Johnson an annoyed look, as they entered the room and he got his first glimpse of Spike, "My God Johnson, why is this creature conscious?"

"Sorry Prof., we hit him with two tranked bolts - I can't understand why he is awake - that ought to've kept him under for at least another hour, plenty of time to get the blo...- darn collar off." .

Professor Mackness approached the helpless vampire and stared at the bloody ruin of its neck. The collar was just as Jeff Johnson had described: silver with strange etched markings and a beautiful blue crystal hanging from it. It was then that he looked down the vampire's body and saw the bolt protruding from its chest.

"Why haven't you removed this?" He gestured towards the bolt. The professor knew that these demons did not experience pain in the same way as humans, but nevertheless the pathetic creature before him was clearly in distress. Professor Mackness was surprised at how upset he felt - he hated to think of himself as responsible for causing even a vampire unnecessary suffering.

"We didn't think it would take so much time to get the damn thing off its neck so we didn't bother, You see, the collar seems to have no opening - we've tried everything from bolt cutters to saws, but nothing even makes a scratch on it. Shame we can't just saw off its head, but then we run the risk of the collar turning to dust."

The professor returned to his perusal of the collar, taking care not to get too near the demon - they were so unpredictable. He became aware that the creature was yelling something repetitively - it sounded like "buffy".

"Who or what is a "buffy"?" He asked

"I am."

The professor swung round and was confronted by an angry young woman and an older man.

Spike drank in the vision of his golden slayer, her face creased into a scowl as she stood in the centre of the room as if she owned it. Suddenly, all his pain seemed to vanish as relief and pleasure washed over him. That's my girl!

"Where did you spring from? This is private property you know, you really shouldn't be here." The harassed professor tried to usher her out of the room. It was like trying to push against a concrete block. She just stood there and glared at him, arms crossed. She pushed past the professor and looked down at Spike. "Are you OK?"

"Oh great luv, just thought I'd lie here and model the latest in vampire shishkebab." Spike croaked sarcastically,

She reached out her hand, meaning to remove the bolt when Mackness said, "My dear, I know he looks human, but please believe me he is a vampire, and if he were free, he would try to kill us all. Although, strangely, he seems to know your name - sometimes they use a thrall or charm to inveigle their way into people's trust - I assume that is what has, er, happened here." He faltered to a halt, the girl didn't seem to be impressed by anything he had said, and in fact seemed to be getting angrier with him for some reason.

Buffy swung round and glowered at the professor, and Spike was glad that for once, someone else was at the other end of Buffy's fury,

"Don't be ridiculous! He wouldn't hurt us." She glanced over to a now grinning vampire. "He's a pain in the ass, but he would never harm us. I know all about vampires, I've dusted more of them than you've had hot dinners, but this one I've known for years and he's harmless. He has tried to kill me but it was a long time ago and he never even got close to it."

"Hey! In the room here," spluttered Spike angrily, "bleeding character assassination, that is! I've nearly offed you loads of times...!"

"Shut up Spike," Buffy said automatically, "As I was saying," she frowned over at the vampire "he's been helping me. In fact he couldn't hurt us even if he wanted to"

Spike groaned, now she was going to spoil it all

"He has a behavioural modification chip embedded in his brain, which zaps him if he tries to hurt a human."

Spike would have covered his face in shame had he been able to move. This was too much for any self-respecting vampire to bear.

Mackness watched the interplay between the young girl and the vampire with fascination, she and the demon seemed to have some sort of a connection, an easy - what was it - camaraderie? And the vampire's expression seemed almost loving - could that be - no surely not.

Giles spoke up for the first time, "I must agree. This vampire doesn't belong here, he was brought to England against his will, and we are trying to get him back home to America. He and Buffy ."

Professor Mackness gasped, "Surely you and he are not ..?"

"Eeew no! Nothing like that." Buffy failed to see Spike's expression as it quickly changed from a look of hurt to stony indifference. "He's -"

Suddenly the room was filled with a bright, crackling energy and Buffy felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand to attention. A rushing wind blew all the loose papers into a swirling dance high above their heads and someone shouted "Look at the crystal, it's glowing!"

All eyes turned to Spike as a soft turquoise light pulsed around him. He felt a kind of warm comforting peace, and the raw pain that had been clawing at his throat faded away. Was this it? Was he on his way out? He lay as still as the corpse he was, the crossbow bold still solemnly protruding from his chest. With his eyes on Buffy, he waited for the end.

The sparking, crackling sound in the room began to grow louder and was accompanied by blue flashes of fiery lightning, blinding them with their brilliance. Just as Buffy was getting ready to move towards Spike, she was stopped in her tracks by a voice as commandingly powerful as it was loud.

"RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!"
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Part 9
RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!
The deafening sound resonated powerfully against their breastbones, and Buffy was sure she could see the atmosphere quivering around them. The air filled with the smell of ozone, mixing queasily with the stench of blood. A figure surrounded in a fizzling, sparking blue glow floated towards them. The power in the room became almost overwhelming and the shocked humans found it difficult to draw breath.

Johnson shook himself trying to rid his brain of the sudden cotton wool feeling, and reached for the crossbow lying on the table next to him. His fellow workman followed suit - sometimes a lack of imagination was a good thing. They raised their weapons simultaneously, but before they could fire, they both crumpled soundlessly and lay unmoving on the floor. Another gesture from the mysterious figure, and the shackles holding Spike motionless sprang open.

"Bugger me, you really know how to make an entrance, don't you pet."

As if Spike's voice was an off switch, the magic suddenly left the room and the figure slowly sank to its feet. Buffy gasped as she recognised Hilda Norton - who knew that she was such a powerful witch? The silence was broken by Spike, groaning as he raised himself to his elbows. "Got any more fancy tricks up your sleeve Hildy?"

"Well this is another fine mess you've got yourself into, you silly vamp. And it's Hilda not Hildy." She gave him a tired smile as the tension leached out of the room

Buffy stepped forward hastily and grabbed Mrs Norton's arm as the witch swayed and nearly fell. Spike pushed himself upright and, clutching his neck, dropped to the floor. Hissing with pain, he heaved the crossbow bolt from his chest, as Buffy helped the witch to a chair. She sank down gratefully on it and Spike dropped to his knees at Hilda's side. Patting her hand awkwardly he said, "Are you OK pet?"

"I've never teleported so far before, I had no idea how tired I'd be. Anyway, you are the injured party here."

Professor Mackness, who until now had been gazing at the scene open mouthed, flinched as four sets of accusing eyes fastened upon him. Nothing he had read or researched had prepared him for such an eventuality - he was completely at a loss.

"That was a disgusting, demeaning thing to have done - what do you have to say for yourself?" The witch glared at him accusingly. He stared back at her. At first glance she looked ordinary enough - around his age - petite, dark haired and rather attractive. If he had not witnessed her entrance for himself, he would have thought that she was a visiting businesswoman or an executive. He found that he was trembling with a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration. She had to be a powerful sorceress; something that until now he had thought did not exist. But then a short time ago he hadn't realised that vampires swarmed round the London underground system. What an opportunity for research. He realised that she was still waiting for his explanation.

"I don't know what to say. Sorry seems to be inadequate under the circumstances." Mackness was quite proud at how calm he sounded, then his voice cracked. "I always gave instructions that the vampires had to be unconscious if any, um, work had to be done on them. I had no idea that this was happening, and would have stopped it if I had." The last was said in a rush as he saw the cold stare the vampire shot at him.

"You are different from any other vampire I have seen - the others seem to be savages in comparison." Nothing he said seemed to melt the ice in the vampire's eyes. "What can I do to help?"

"Well, a first aid kit would be something." The one called Buffy said.

"Oh, of course, um, yes, first aid kit." He was grateful to have something constructive to do that meant that he could escape the room for a while.

Giles had been watching him with something approaching sympathy, after all the professor had been ridding London of a scourge. He took pity on the man. "Come on, I'll help you."

They all heard Giles saying "There is no excuse for what was done to Spike - even he does not deserve to be treated like that."

As Giles' voice faded away, Spike raised his eyebrows in surprise - fancy the Watcher defending him. There would be porcine angels flying around next.

Now the professor had gone the tension relaxed, and Buffy looked over at Spike and Hilda. The vampire had his head cradled in the witches lap and she was stroking his hair whilst looking down in horror at his wounds.

How did those two get so close? Buffy thought. They had known each other for barely a day, and they now looked as though they had been friends for life. Why did the witch like him so much? She said herself that a vampire had murdered her brother - why was she treating this one like - like, well like a son? Chip or no chip, he was a cold-blooded killer who didn't deserve sympathy or gentleness. So why did Buffy feel as though it should be her that was comforting Spike instead of the witch?

The image of him placing her and Giles behind him whilst he tried to fight off a crowd of humans against whom he knew he had no chance of winning. Why had he done that? She thought back to the conversation she had overheard, when Spike was confessing to the witch that he loved Buffy - well she knew that couldn't be true, vampires were incapable of love, weren't they? Buffy ground her teeth in frustration; she didn't have anyone that she could talk to about this.

Spike realised that he was completely and utterly exhausted, but for once didn't curse himself for his weakness. The witch's hand stroked his hair rhythmically and he felt compassion and sympathy flowing from her, as she whispered inconsequential comforting words only he could hear. No one, not even in his human days, had treated him like this. The feeling was so good, he wondered how long he could make it last before she tired of him.

All too soon the watcher and professor were back with the first aid box.

"Come on Spike," Buffy said more sharply than she meant to, "get your ass up here and let me look at those wounds." When he made no effort to move, she grasped his upper arm and started to drag him to his feet. The humans were shocked into stillness by his bloodcurdling growl.

"It's OK," Hilda said to him mildly, "it'll make you feel more comfortable." He allowed the witch to help him up and, wrenching his arm from the Slayer's grasp, heaved himself up on to the table with a grunt. While Hilda gently cleaned and dressed the wound in his chest, he glared at Buffy. What a difference there was between the two women. Buffy had looked both astonished and disgusted when it had been suggested that there might be a connection between them. She was like the bloody sun - burnt him with her touch, her words and her looks. All right, he decided, he would treat her like the sun and avoid any contact.

"These men would never have been able to take the ward from you," the witch was saying, "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, but the only person who can remove it is the person who put it on." She put her hands up to his neck, but before she could take the collar from his throat, he stopped her gently.

"No, Hildy, leave it."

"But I can't dress the wound properly.." The witch started to say.

"It'll be fine, don't worry - I heal real quick." He wanted to keep any connection he could to her. "Is that how you knew I was in trouble?"

Hilda grinned at him, "When I felt the pain, I thought I was having a heart attack. I didn't cast the magic for such a link - perhaps it's because you're a vampire or something. I really don't know I'm afraid."

"Doesn't matter pet, I'm grateful for however it works. Got me out of a shitload of trouble."

Giles cleared his throat, "Um, loathe though I am to break up this conversation, I really don't think we should loiter here much longer. The professor has offered to take us to his home so that Spike can recuperate."

"Oh, yeah, got another operating theatre there have you? Get me all better so you can have another go?" Spike said bitterly. "I think I've had enough of your hospitality."

The professor flushed and shuffled his feet nervously. "It's the only way I can think of to make reparation for what I have done. " his voice trailed off as Spike stared at him, grim faced. He swallowed hard, "My home isn't far from here, and, and you are all welcome for as long as you like."

"What about these two?" Buffy gestured at the unconscious workmen.

"I'll make sure that they don't remember anything about this when they wake up," the witch promised.

_________________________________________________

After putting the workmen in the dorm room to sleep off the spell, they made their way back up to the surface. Spike was surprised to see that the sun had set. Bloody hell, he thought he must be slipping not to have sensed that - mind you, he had been a bit busy lately.

Buffy reached out to lend Spike support, but he pulled away, insisting he could make his own way. Head high, teeth clenched, the vampire walked on rubbery legs alongside the witch. Every step was excruciating. He began to worry that he wouldn't be able to maintain his façade of strength if the wretched journey didn't end soon. Just then, thanks to a short cut to the car park known only to Mackness, they were soon on their way.

The vampire sank gratefully into the soft leather upholstery and had to force himself not to nod off to sleep as the car made its smooth way along the London roads. Too soon they had stopped outside a large terraced house, which was one of many surrounding a small, landscaped area, which in its turn was surrounded by railings. He jumped as he heard Buffy gasp, his reflexes ready for battle.

"It's like something out of "Notting Hill!"

"Not bloody surprising, since this IS Notting Hill, you stupid bint," muttered Spike

"Be nice, Spike," the witch said mildly, "Buffy has never been to this country before." She pinched him before he could say anything else.

Spike rubbed his arm and smiled ruefully, "Yeah, sorry Hildy, I'm a bit knackered is all."

Why the hell was he apologising to her, I'm the one he snarked at, thought Buffy. That stupid vampire was driving her crazy, one minute all over her and the next -

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard an, "Ah, hum." She looked up to see Giles holding the car door open for her, studying her curiously. Everyone was heading into the house, except her. She quickly tried to look as though she was looking for a lost earring in the upholstery. Smiling weakly, she climbed out of the car and followed the others.

The house was a well-proportioned building, four stories high in the neo- classical style popular at the beginning of the 18th century. Buffy looked around with pleasure at the high ceilings and wood panelled walls. The professor showed them into the sitting room, telling them to make themselves at home. Spike chose the nearest comfortable chair and sprawled there, instantly falling asleep. He was too tired to keep up the "master vampire" façade any longer.

Giles and Hilda volunteered to help with the cooking, and soon a delicious aroma crept into the room. Buffy contented herself with exploring the house, marvelling at the beautiful staircase and the huge rooms.

After they had eaten, the professor showed them the bedrooms. Spike chose one at random and sprawled gratefully on the bed.

Exhausted though he was, sleep evaded him and after half an hour of tossing and turning, he became aware of a low chanting sound and decided to investigate. He didn't have far to go, the sound was coming from the next room. Hilda was sitting cross-legged on her bed, eyes closed as if she were meditating. Before he could retreat, she said, "Come in Spike."

"Uh, sorry I'm interrupting you," he mumbled.

"I couldn't sleep either, it must be all the excitement - got my mind working overtime," She smiled at him and patted the bed next to her. He raised his eyebrow and gave her a questioning look that made her laugh. He sat down, mirroring her lotus position. They sat in companionable silence for a while enjoying each other's company. Then the witch stirred and, head on one side, she said, "Spike, can I ask you a very personal question? You don't have to answer, just tell me to mind my own business if you like."

"Ask away, Hildy."

"If the chip stopped working would you go back to the hunt?" She had been turning this over and over in her mind since she had learned of its existence.

He leaned back on his elbows and regarded her, his eyes glittering in the low light. His first instinct was to tell her what he thought she wanted to hear, but he owed her complete honesty. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to think about the subject he had avoided for a very long time. The hunt - his heart hungered for it. The skill he had honed over the years, studying his prey, choosing the most beautiful female - just ripening into womanhood, and then cutting her from the crowd. And then the chase - ah, the chase. He could keep a girl running until she was desperate, frantic, giving off exhilarating waves of panic and terror. And when he decided the time was perfectly right - the kill. Her screams music to his ears, he would sink his fangs into her ripe, luscious flesh, feeling the hot, nectar-like blood flowing down his throat...

He suddenly became aware of the room again and, forcing his game face away, he sat up and opened his eyes to find Hilda looking at him with a sad but understanding expression. It cut him like a knife. He could cope with disgust, fear or hatred - after all, that was the only reaction that he'd ever had from a human. But this was different. Compassion. Caused him to feel all kinds of confusion. He struggled to make sense of his feelings.

The fact was, he hadn't wanted to give it up, until now. The hunt. The killing. It had been his only reason for existence.

He realised that he had a better reason now. This woman accepted him as he was - none of this "you are an evil, soulless monster, you don't deserve to live. You can't love" Hilda was smart, powerful, and she saw him, really saw him. And she knew. She knew he could and did love. Soul or not. His confusion dropped away and he knew what to say.

"No pet, I wouldn't. It'll be good ol' pig's blood for me from now on, even if the chip does go west. Well, maybe I might nick some human from the blood bank now and again."

"What?" she said faintly. She had seen his expression whilst he had been "reminiscing" and how his instincts had pulled at him. She had been quite prepared for him to smirk and say, "What d'you think?" But there was only his crystalline blue eyes staring into hers, as empty of lies as a clear sky. For a moment, just a second, they existed within a space of complete understanding and trust.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Before either could say anything, the door swung open revealing Buffy standing there holding out a steaming mug. Spike looked at her without expression, "What do you want?"

"I went to your room, and then I heard your voices" She looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. "I, uh, brought you some er, food. Where do you want me to put it?" Sudden rage gripped Spike. She couldn't even bring herself to call it what it was - blood. Every time she opened her sodding mouth she hurt him, and suddenly it was all too much. "Just put it down anywhere," he said icily and turned away from her.

Buffy's mouth opened and closed silently. She had brought the "food" for him as a peace offering, and he was treating it as if she had brought him poison. What else did he want her to do for goodness sake, get down on her knees and beg for forgiveness when she didn't even know what she had done wrong? She stalked across the room and slammed the mug down on the dressing table, turned and left closing the door noisily behind her.

Hilda watched the exchange wearily. When were these two going to sort this out? They were both so stubborn and bloody-minded!

Her thoughts were interrupted by Spike, "Can I ask you a question now Hildy?"

She smiled and said "Ask away, Spike."

"I'm buggered if I'm going back to the States with that bitch. What would you think if I were to come and stay with you?" He said in his most seductive voice.

Her heart suddenly clenched. Had she heard him right?

Chapter 10:

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

Hilda stared at the vampire in shock - was this unique, deadly, exciting, unpredictable, beautiful creature asking to come and live with her? Thoughts tumbled round her head, making her feel dizzy.

Spike tried to read her face and when she stayed silent, his expression hardened. Perhaps he had misjudged her, and she was trying to find the words to tell him no. He stood abruptly and strode to the door. "Yeah, well it was just an idea."

He was stopped by a very unladylike snort. He swung round and stared at Hilda in astonishment. She was sitting, hands over her mouth with tears running down her face.

"Luv, what's wrong?" He was immediately concerned.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, and he realised that she wasn't crying but laughing. "I was just picturing my neighbour's reactions if I brought home a handsome young man to live with me."

"If?" He drawled.

She wiped at her eyes, took a deep breath and said, "When."

His grin lit up the room like a beacon. "You won't regret it, I promise."

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

Buffy lay staring at the ceiling, sleep the last thing on her mind. What were they talking about, she wondered, and why was Spike so cold towards her? She cast her mind back to the last time he'd had that "look" in his eyes. The melting, tender look that he disguised so badly. The look that she had started to take for granted.

It had been just before the witch had arrived and Buffy was trying to persuade the professor to let Spike go. Suddenly she remembered her disgust when Mackness had asked whether she and the vampire were an item. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, a conditioned response, but it had obviously hurt Spike. She kicked herself mentally. Stupid, stupid Buffy. Then something else occurred to her - why was she so concerned about what a vampire thought of her anyway?

She had a really nice, human boyfriend at home. Hm, nice, that was one thing that Spike was not. Was nice what she wanted?

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

Aren't you hungry?" Hilda asked.

"Yeah luv, m'stomach thinks me throat's been cut." He deadpanned.

Spluttering with laughter at his pun, she reached over and handed the mug of cooling liquid to him. She watched him gulp it down, mind still reeling from recent events.

Spike looked at her over the rim of the mug. He was intrigued. He had met some powerful women in his long life, but none as powerful as she. Let's face it, he thought, she could destroy me with a flick of her fingers. Sure, she was older than the females he usually wanted, but there was something about her, she saw him as he really was and was not revolted or frightened of him.

Hilda interrupted his musings by yawning hugely. "Oh, sorry - I think the day has finally caught up with me. I don't think people realise quite how much energy spell casting takes out of a person."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, "Night then pet." Smiling, he rose and left the room.

She sank back against the pillows and blew out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

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

The next morning Giles woke feeling pleasantly refreshed and cautiously optimistic. He and the professor had talked into the night about vampires, witches, magic and then several unconnected subjects. They both discovered the other's fascination with research and compared notes about their respective university careers. All in all, a pleasant and relaxing evening.

A delicious aroma assaulted his senses, mmmm cooked breakfast he thought as he made his way to the bathroom. He hadn't had a decent breakfast since the witch had cooked them one at Toby's house. He hurriedly showered and shaved and made his way down stairs.

Hilda beamed at him as he entered the kitchen. "I seem to remember that you like a full English breakfast Mr Giles."

"The name's Rupert," he smiled at her, "yes please, I remember the last one you cooked me - absolutely delicious."

She was humming under her breath and smiling to herself.

"You're cheerful this morning, did you have a good night?" He couldn't quite understand why she started to chuckle.

The professor came in from the dining room, "I've laid the table, have you got everything you need Hilda?" If anything her chuckles deepened, and the two men exchanged puzzled glances. "Yes, well, let me know if I can do anything to help."

Buffy slowly closed her bedroom door and paused outside Spike's door. She couldn't fling it open as if she was entering his crypt; she didn't want to piss him off anymore than she had already. She listened intently, but of course couldn't hear a thing. It's not as if he breathes, let alone snores, she thought. She just wanted to talk to him and see if she could get the "look" back into his eyes. Sighing, she gave up and went down stairs.

Sitting at the dining table, she picked at her food, trying to block out the others' conversation. Giles and the professor were talking about some research that they had in common. Where was Spike? Well of course as a vampire the daytime was his natural time for sleeping, but up till now he had slept during the night with the rest of them. She was missing him she realised with a start.

Giles looked at the witch obliquely. Why had he not noticed her smile before? It lit up her face and made her almost beautiful. No, he decided, she was beautiful, so full of life. He must have been too wrought up last time they met to notice. Well it must have been something to do with being held at gunpoint he thought wryly.

Professor Mackness looked at her with open admiration. This woman was fascinating, so powerful and yet she had been so gentle with the vampire. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?" There was so much he wanted - no needed to know. He wondered if she would mind him recording her answers.

Hilda's mind was in a whirl. How were she and Spike going to tell everyone? And how would they react? "Um, sorry? Oh, no I don't mind - ask away." She smiled at the professor and he grinned back

Suddenly Buffy couldn't bear it any longer. "I'm going for a walk." She stood up and marched towards the front door. Mackness called after her, "I have a key to the central gardens if you would like to look at them."

As soon as Buffy shut the gate behind her, she was in a secret, green world. The traffic noise was muted and she could hear the birds calling to one another. She wandered over to a bench and slumped down. Very "Julia Roberts" she thought, but without the benefit of a Hugh Grant. She knew that she would only feel better after she had had a long talk with Spike. And tell him what? How did she feel about him? She shook her head in confusion. Time for some serious thought.

It was getting near noon when she finally came out of her oasis of calm and made her way back to the house, mind made up. She would tell Spike that she would like to know him better, perhaps go on a few dates or something, she was unclear about the details. It didn't do to make too many plans where he was concerned, because you never knew exactly how he would react to anything. She was feeling a lot happier now that she had made up her mind.

Just as she entered by the front door, Spike breezed down the stairs. Her heart did a little dance in her chest as she saw him. "Um, Spike can I have a few words with you." She said a little breathlessly.

"S'allright Slayer, me and Hilda want a few words with all of you." And he loped straight past her into the living room.

She stared after him, what was he talking about? She followed him and was just in time to see Spike go over to the witch and raise her hand to his lips. "Hey, Hilda, how are you love? All rested after last night?"

There was a hush and all eyes centred upon them. Hilda felt like a nervous schoolgirl after those ill chosen words - they might be misconstrued. Then she looked at Spike who was grinning maliciously at the others, obviously having a whale of a time. "Will you tell 'em or shall I, Pet?"

"Tell us what?" asked Giles stiffly.

Not giving the witch time to reply, Spike said, "I asked Hilda if I could go and live with her, and she said OK."

They all spoke at once:

"Oh dear." The professor said

"What?" Giles gasped.

"Huh?" Buffy whispered unbelievingly.

"Yeah, well I'm sick and tired of you all treating me like a second class citizen. Hilda sees me and accepts me for what I am."

"A murdering psychopath!" Giles shouted. "Are you stark staring mad woman? How has he made you do this? I can't believe an intelligent woman like you could fall for his dubious charm."

He would have continued to rant, but the witch held up her hand and said, "I'm surprised that an intelligent man like you can't get over your prejudices and see what he is really like. And for the record I haven't "fallen for him" - I enjoy his company." With that she swept from the room and up the stairs.

"Whoo, she really told you didn't she mate!" Spike crowed, and smirking, followed the witch.

Buffy was numb. How could this have happened? Just as she made up her mind to let him in, he walked away - and with another woman, although she couldn't take Hilda as a rival seriously. She must be old enough... the thought trickled away as the realisation of how old Spike must be, hit her.

Chapter 11:

A car had to be hired, and Hilda busied herself making the arrangements. Spike sat with one leg flung over the arm of the couch seemingly oblivious to the heightened atmosphere. The only clue that the emotions of the other three beings in the room were affecting him, was the drumming of his fingertips on his thigh.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" Professor Mackness was anxious to interview this unique creature before he vanished.

"You got nothing I want - unless you'd like to donate a couple of pints of blood?" Spike smirked, but his eyes remained cold.

"Look I'm sorry that we got off to such a poor start, I am trying my best to make reparations." The professor was becoming desperate - he had been busy compiling a questionnaire whilst the vampire had slept. "Just a few questions, it won't take long."

Spike's expression did not change, except to harden a little. "So, just a cosy little chat with the bloke that slaughters hundreds of my fellow vampires at a time, mmm lets see." He said, sarcasm dripping from his lips.

The professor felt aggrieved. "I think I found the most humane way of despatching them." He said stiffly. "A spell to put them to sleep then a quick staking - they knew nothing about it."

"Like shooting fish in a sodding barrel." Spike snarled, "at least when she does for them, it's face to face!" He gestured towards the slayer.

Buffy started, she had been trying to think of a way of begging him to stay, without there being any actual begging involved.

"Uh, Spike I want to have a word with you."

"I know what you're gonna say."

"You do?" her eyes were wide with astonishment.

"Yeah, something like 'If you hurt Hilda I'll hunt you down and stake you good and proper.'"

"No, Spike, I."

"Why can't you believe I would never hurt her?" He was stalking up and down now, and throwing his arms in the air to emphasise his point. "Let's face it, she's more than able to defend herself - turn me into a purple earwig or something. And besides, I like the woman." He threw himself back on to the sofa refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Buffy gaped at him, at a loss. What the hell could she say to that? How could she convince him in just a few minutes that her opinion of him had changed. She hadn't really got used to it herself.

Giles gave up all pretence of reading the paper. He couldn't believe Hilda was going off with the vampire, "I still think he has some hold over her, she surely wouldn't dream of going off with a bloodsucking monster like him otherwise." He said loudly.

"Giles, that bloodsucking monster risked his unlife saving you." Buffy said shortly.

The expression on Giles' face was priceless, a combination of astonishment and anger. He crumpled the newspaper, threw it down, removed his glasses and begun polishing them vigorously on his handkerchief before striding from the room.

Spike couldn't believe his ears, was that the Slayer defending him? He looked over at her, eyebrows raised. He saw that she was blushing. Now what the hell did that mean?

The professor, desperate to regain Spike's attention, remembered something Giles had said the previous evening, about the reason for their visit to the underground. It might get the vampire to stay for a while. "I found some really interesting equipment in one of the underground rooms." He said casually. "I think there might have been some kind of forging industry going on. I didn't have time to look at it properly."

Attention hijacked, Spike sat up. "What did you do with it? Is it here?"

"No, the equipment was too bulky to fit in my car. It's still in the room where it was found."

Spike subsided, "There's no way I'm going back to that hellhole," before Mackness could reply he continued, "anyway, I don't need that stuff anymore."

Hilda appeared in the doorway. "The car will be here in a minute. The hire place is only just round the corner, and I got them to deliver it right to the front door. It's overcast, but we can't be too careful - don't want vampire flambé."

Spike strode up to her, took her hand and swept her to the front door. "Well, we'd best be ready then."

Hilda looked at him frowning, "Don't you think we ought to say our goodbyes?"

He laughed mirthlessly, "I think mine are more like good riddances, luv."

Buffy watched them helplessly; would she ever see him again? It's my own fault she thought, if only I had seen what he was before.

________________________________________________

It was fully dark when they finally reached the village. Hilda parked the car at the bottom of the narrow lane that led to her cottage and they walked towards it in companionable silence. She suddenly halted and it was only his supernatural reflexes that stopped him from walking right into her.

"Damn." She said quietly.

"What is it?" Spike crouched into a fighting stance. Extending his senses, he searched for the threat. Bloody hell, how had he missed the scent of so many human females? "Who are they?" he murmured

"My coven" she said thoughtfully.

"Oh, that's all right then - isn't it?"

She didn't reply immediately, just motioned him to follow her. She made towards a small outbuilding at the bottom of the garden, opened the door and ushered him in.

He looked round the small room in bemusement. It was crammed with pots, baskets and gardening implements. Hilda cleared the top of a large chest in the corner and began to rummage around in it. She gave a grunt of satisfaction as she pulled out a set of heavy iron manacles. He took a step back only to be stopped by the closed door.

"You'll to have to trust me." She whispered as she held them out to him. "I'm going to have to secure you before we go in there."

"Bugger that!" He said pressed against the door.

She reached up to his collar and touched the crystal, which began to shine brightly giving the room an eerie blue glow. He was mesmerised, wondering whether this was how a rat felt when it was being menaced by a snake.

"You must do as I say." She said simply.

He gaped at her - what the hell?

"Put these on." She held the chains out to him again and he found himself complying. He watched his hands as if they belonged to someone else, as he meticulously fastened the cuffs on his wrists.

"Come on, follow me."

In a daze, he loped along behind her. When she opened the door he stepped in unhesitatingly to be confronted by twelve pairs of hostile eyes, and a cacophony of voices.

"Hilda, where have you been.?" "What do you think you are doing." "Why have you brought that thing here?" "We've been really worried.." "Hilda, how could you have brought that monster in here, after what happened to Steven?"

The combination of rage, hatred and magic swirling around him was almost too much. It seemed float around his body, stinging him like a swarm of angry wasps. What the sodding hell was happening? He was seeing everything with extreme clarity, but seemed unable to move or speak. He hadn't felt so vulnerable and weak since he was a fledgling in Angel's "care". What's wrong with me? Why do I pick women who take delight in humiliating me? He found himself growling low in his throat.

"Spike, be quiet." Hilda said softly, and then raised her voice "and everyone else BE QUIET!" The noise stopped abruptly. "Now tell me what on earth you are all doing here?"

A tall, thin woman spoke up. She had, incongruously, a high pitched childlike voice. "Did you forget calling a meeting? Surely you remember phoning me and telling me to let everyone know?"

"Then surely, Alice, you remember that I said we would not meet until Friday, don't you?" Hilda said sweetly.

"Is this what the meeting's about?" A woman about the same age as the slayer walked forward and stared at the vampire. He stared back, only just keeping his game face under control.

"Listen everybody, I have driven a very long way and I'm tired. On Friday I'll explain everything, him included - but until then you should all go home." There was a general muttering and murmuring, but they all slowly obeyed.

Alice was the last to leave. "Do you need any help securing him? I have a very good immobilisation spell I can let you have."

"No thank you, I have all the spells I need, as you well know."

The woman glanced back at Spike, and he felt a momentary tingling, like a light electric shock in his chest and the crystal warmed against his throat. "Well, if I can't be of any more help," she said, "I'll see you on Friday."

Hilda locked the front door and slowly made her way towards the immobile vampire. He was glaring at her with golden eyes.

To be continued...

Part 12.

_______________________________________________________________

When Giles found her, Buffy was staring sightlessly out of the sitting room window.

"Ah, Buffy? Is everything all right? Not bad news from home I hope?"

"Huh? Oh, no." Buffy had made her customary bi-weekly phone call to Sunnydale a few minutes before. "No, they're all fine."

["Hey Buf! Me & Anya are just going to the mall - she's seen some shoes that she can't live without. We're fine, no sign of Glory - you keep on with the vacation."]

["Buffy dear, I'm fine, no more headaches. You must be having a wonderful time, don't come back on my account."]

["Hi sis, I hope you're gonna get me a real good gift from London. Can't talk, I'm going to the movies with Janice. See ya."]

"Yeah, everybody's fine." She muttered.

"Oh, good. Michael said that we can stay here as long as we want. This is the perfect place from which to visit all London's major museums you know. Natural History, V & A, Science museum."

Buffy was looking at him with an expression close to panic.

"I'm joking." He said with a smile. "Actually we are also really near all the good shopping areas and department stores here - Knightsbridge, Harrods, Dickens & Jones." He was relieved to see her return his smile.

"You are so going to regret that "joke"." She laughed, relieved that there was something to take her mind off a certain stupid vampire for a few hours. Retail therapy was just the thing.

Spike was standing where Hilda had left him, his chin raised, looking down his nose at her, and a low rumbling growl emanating from his throat. Why didn't he say anything? Then it suddenly occurred to her. "Spike you are not under a spell." She gestured and the manacles opened and fell clanking to the ground.

He slowly relaxed, not daring to take his eyes from the witch. He found that he was trembling and it filled him with rage. "So, I can't be trusted around your friends eh? What, you think I'd savage them? Tear out all their pretty little throats? Put a mojo on Spike so he can't hurt anyone!" As he took a breath to carry on his rant, Hilda broke in.

"There was no spell." She said firmly.

"No spell?" He said in a dangerously quiet voice.

"It was for your own good. Do you think that if we had just waltzed in here hand in hand, everything would have been hunky dory?" Her voice was hard. "They would have reduced you to dust in a second - or worse! Do you know how rare vampire parts are? They are highly valued in spell casting. The coven might have spared you long enough to harvest them - and then poof!"

"Parts?" He echoed, reflexively clasping his hands in front of himself.

"Yes, parts that I'm sure you'd sooner not be without!"

She sighed, turned and walked away from him into the kitchen, leaning over the sink as if she was about to vomit.

Spike shook himself and followed her, slowly becoming aware of her distress. Her heart was beating erratically and her breathing was ragged.

"Then why couldn't I move or speak?" He asked quietly.

"I just used the power of suggestion - you know, mind over matter. I needed you to look as if you were in my power. Worked really well didn't it?" She said wearily.

He walked towards her and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs across the back of her neck. "Bit of warning would've been nice."

"No, they wouldn't have been fooled - your reaction was perfect. I've never seen you so angry."

She was trembling under his grasp. Now what did he do? What did she expect of him? He had absolutely no idea. He'd just have to play it by ear.

She suddenly straightened, took a deep breath and side-stepped away from him. "I'll go and get the supplies from the car." She said tonelessly.

Spike watched her go out the back door and sighed. A creature of instinct - an instinct that usually told him to kill and feed on humans - he felt completely out of his depth.

_________________________________________________________________

Hilda unpacked the cool-box and placed the containers of blood, which the professor had obtained, in the fridge. Michael's sons had unknowingly donated some clothes to the vampire too. She smiled to herself as she remembered Spike picking them over disdainfully, finally condescending to accept a couple of pairs of faded jeans and some plain dark coloured shirts. She could hear the vampire was in the bathroom, so she put some of the clothes outside the door for him.

Lying in the huge old-fashioned bath, Spike had heard the witch re-enter the house. He thought he might give her a bit of breathing space - she seemed really on edge. But then she had lied, or at least misled, all her friends for him and he had been such a wanker about it. But how was he to know? It was all so confusing. He let himself sink below the hot, comforting water and thought about the last time he had been in her bathroom.

["You can't say I'm not old enough for you."]

["Spike, you'll never be old enough!"]

And they'd laughed together. Things had been so simple then, she hadn't meant much to him. Well, he'd been grateful for all her help of course - he knew that he would have been dust without her. Then she'd complicated things by giving him the ward, and on top of that rescuing him again! He knew what he felt was more complex than just gratitude. This human woman so wise, so powerful, actually liked and valued him. Grumbling under his breath, he got out of the bath and wrapped a towel round his waist. He found that she had left some clothes for him, which he slipped on. Wandering along the landing, he found the witch in one of the three small bedrooms.

"I've made up the guest bed for you." She smiled briefly at him and then fled the room.

Well that answered one question for him - platonic it was then.

Hilda woke after only a few hours of disturbed sleep. A cup of tea she thought, that'll soothe my jangled nerves. She got up wearily, wrapped herself in her dressing gown and wandered down stairs. After putting the kettle on, she made herself busy cleaning down the worktops to keep her mind off the mesmerising creature upstairs.

She was shocked out of her reverie by a sharp knocking on the back door. Mind still whirling, she thoughtlessly unlocked and opened the door. Alice smiled thinly at her and pushed past into the kitchen, uninvited.

"The more I thought of you here all on your own with that monster, the more worried I got." She said in that high pitched, irritating voice.

Hilda watched her helplessly as she bustled in and out of each room.

"I know you think that you can cope with it, but they are such vicious, bloodthirsty creatures I thought I'd better check to make sure that you are all right."

Horrified, Hilda realised that the woman was heading up the stairs. At last her legs started to obey her and she swiftly followed. Alice peered into the bedrooms. When she got to the small guestroom, Hilda braced herself for what was to come. When the woman said nothing, Hilda peered over her shoulder. The bed was made neatly and no sign of vampire anywhere.

"Well, where have you hidden him eh?" Alice said as if this was some weird kind of "find the vampire" hide and seek game.

They both heard a slight noise that came from above their heads. "Ah, the loft. Why didn't I think of that?" Alice was off like a shot, putting the ladder in place and climbing up, Hilda close behind her. They both gaped at the scene in front of them.

The vampire, his toes barely reaching the floor, was hanging chained by the wrists to a rafter. He growled low in his throat and glared at them malevolently.

"I'll just check that he's secure." Alice reached up and pulled at his arms, then put her hand up to his head. Spike felt a slight tug and then she backed off. "I can see that you have this well under control. I was so worried about you, but now I can rest easy."

Hilda felt faint with shock, but managed to escort the busy body out of the house and lock the door after her.

She made her way slowly back up the stairs and up into the loft. Spike still hung there only this time he was expressionless.

"How the hell did you manage that?" Hilda said faintly.

He grinned and dropped to the ground, tossing the manacles carelessly into a corner. He curled his tongue behind his teeth and raised one eyebrow. "Must be mind over matter or the power of suggestion luv."

She stood immobile for a second and then strode forward and punched him hard in the chest. "You bastard!"

He laughed then and put his arms around her shaking body.

Part 13

Spike held her until she was calm enough to make the journey down stairs. Once in the kitchen, he made them both a drink.

"Aah, nothing like a good cuppa tea." Spike blew on the steaming cup appreciatively.

"There's blood in the fridge if you want it. I can warm it up for you if you like." Hilda smiled over at the vampire, trying to keep her cup steady enough to drink from it.

"You need to get your rest, my witch. Can look after myself - after all that's what I've been doing for the last hundred odd years."

"OK, if you're sure. I must admit, I feel absolutely exhausted."

"So what do you think that was in aid of? Alice usually that nosy?" Spike looked at her over the rim of his cup.

"Oh yes, and she has been competing for the leadership of the coven for some time now, I suppose she was trying to see if there was something dodgy going on here." Hilda laughed humourlessly, "How the hell did I think I was going to get away with having a vampire to stay? Of course the coven were going to get involved - perhaps not as quickly as tonight, but they were bound to find out about you sooner or later. I'm such a stupid woman."

"Not your fault pet. I kinda invited myself didn't I? Tell you what, I'll just bugger off now - they can't blame you - not after Alice checked my bonds and all."

"No Spike, I won't let them dictate what I should do. If you go now, you'll be vulnerable. If I know them they'll follow and kill you. We'll have to find another solution."

They sat at the kitchen table, tea forgotten, both immersed in their own thoughts.

"Who's Steven?" Spike asked suddenly.

Paling, she said sharply "How do you know about Steven?"

"Last night, one of the witches asked you how you could bring a monster like me into the house after what happened to Steven. Got me wondering who he is."

"He was my brother." She said expressionlessly.

"Was?"

"Yes, he was murd. killed by vampires."

Spike looked at her shrewdly "Weren't going to tell me about that - why?"

"It happened a long time ago. It had nothing to do with you."

"Well then, it won't hurt to tell me now."

Sighing she told him. When she was 11 years old, her adored older brother Steven went to university - the first to do so in her family. She persuaded her parents to let her go with them to visit him. She ran on ahead of them to his room. "I thought he was sleeping," she said her voice quavering, "I shook him and he rolled over and all I could see was the blood."

Spike looked away, "You don't have to say any more." He said quietly.

But now she had started to tell the tale, she couldn't stop.

"I was traumatised for a long time and so were my parents. They split up a couple of years later and life was never the same after that. I started to "see" things. Mum thought it was my imagination that I could see colours around people - and then when objects started to fly around when I got angry - she sent me to a mental institution. That sounds harsh, but she was so mixed up herself that she thought it was for the best. I was there for a few months, and then discharged into my grandmother's care. She was the saving of me. Apparently, she had been able to see auras when she was young, so she knew what I was talking about. Just having someone who believed in me was such a relief."

Spike nodded. He knew just what she meant.

"Grandma put me in touch with a group of women - some of whom are now part of my coven - and they taught me how to control my powers. I trained to be a nurse when I left school - it was either that or be a secretary. I never fancied office work, and I found nursing quite fulfilling. But the coven and the witchcraft were central to my life, and have been ever since."

"You could have dusted me as soon as you saw me that first day. Why did you let me live?" Spike asked softly.

"Because of the colours in your aura." She answered simply.

"Vamps don't have coloured auras." He said blankly.

"That's what everything I have read or heard about states," she said with a glimmer of a smile, "but yours is shot with green and gold."

"Is that why you wanted me here? To study me?" He could feel his chest tighten painfully as he waited for her to answer.

Hilda stared back at him. "I wanted you here because I like you," she said, "as simple as that." She leaned forward and patted his hand.

Spike looked down suddenly finding the tablecloth fascinating, tracing the pattern on it with his finger. Then his head came up and he gave her a smile of such intensity that she had to smile back.

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

Humming under his breath, Spike made another cup of tea to replace the now cold ones. When they finished he helped the witch back upstairs and into bed, switching off the light as he left. When he was in his own bed, he thought back over the events of the night. He grinned as he thought about her reaction to his little bit of playacting in the loft and then his smile softened as he remembered her words in the kitchen.

'My friend Hilda', he thought trying out the phrase. Friend. He thought back. When was the last time he'd had a friend? Never that's when. He'd had acquaintances and colleagues when he was living - but no real friends. And since he'd been turned, not even that.

He didn't care that he sounded like a bloody poofter. He felt a warmth and satisfaction when he thought about her. She wanted to be with him because... bloody hell he didn't know why she wanted to be with him, he was just glad she did. He knew what he felt about her - admiration for her strength of personality and determination, respect for her power and an appreciation of her sense of humour. He found he was grinning like an idiot.

Eventually he drifted off to sleep.

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

Buffy regarded the many bags and boxes that were the result of her shopping spree. She just hoped that all the new stuff would fit into her luggage for the return journey, whenever that was.

Giles had been surprisingly good about trailing after her in the many stores she visited, even giving his opinion of several different outfits that she tried on. Only when it got late, he caved and asked plaintively if they could stop and have a meal somewhere.

Buffy had actually got through most of the day without thinking about Spike and what he and the witch were up to. Why did she care? She only knew that she did. Now that they were back, all the morning's upset, disappointment and regrets came flooding back. Why the hell hadn't she told him that she was slowly changing towards him? It would have been awkward (and god knows he could make things awkward) but it might have meant that he would have stayed in London. She groaned and vowed not to think about it again. Yeah, right!

She sighed and started to get ready for the evening at the theatre that Giles had been so keen on. Perhaps it would give her a few hours of Spike- free thoughts.

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

He was walking through an endless series of caves, trying to find a way out. He could smell dampness in the air and suddenly he was engulfed in water. A burning sensation spread all over his body. He was swimming in holy water! Spike woke abruptly. What the hell? The room was filled with a ghostly blue glow and the crystal at his throat was warm. He tried to call out, but only a wail rose from his throat. Not abloodygain! As he pushed himself upright, he was aware of an increasing pain throughout his body. Then he was filled with terror. With one move he was out of the bed and pressed into the corner behind the table, crouched with his hands over his head, whimpering.

"Spike, what's wrong?"

He vamped out and snarled at the newcomer. Was this where the threat was coming from? Should he attack? But his terror kept him cowering away from her.

"Oh, shit!" Hilda stared at this almost unrecognisable, wild creature. She began to mumble under her breath.

Spike knew that he had to get away. Away from this female. Away from this house. With a roar he pushed past her, bounded out of the door and down the stairs only to crash into an invisible wall. He threw himself against it over and over until a lassitude overtook him and he slumped down into unconsciousness.

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