¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Every single time I see you I start to feel this way

Makes me wonder if I’m every gonna feel this way again

There’s a picture that’s hanging in the back of my head

I see it over and over

I want to hold you and love you in my arms and then

I want to need you ‘cause I need to be with you ‘til the end

Then I hear myself reply: You’ve got to hold it in this time tonight

If only I had the guts to feel this way, if only you’d look at me and want to stay

If only I’d take you in my arms and say that I won’t go ‘cause I need you

-Hanson, If Only-

Lesson the Sixth

“So what does it mean?” Buffy inquired.

They had been talking for over an hour and a half, Angel telling what they had been told and what had been brought into a truer light during their stay in Tibet, Spike putting in comments and thoughts once in a while and the Slayer asking all the questions. Willow had left with Kennedy earlier in the evening and Giles had decided to leave the planning-it-out – as he put it – to get lost in a new D&F (Decon & Faust) encyclopedia which had arrived that very morning. It was filled with all sorts of interesting demon factoids and Buffy merely waved at him to go read when she heard in his voice that he was firing himself up for an introduction of it.

Now, most of the hardcore data that the vamps, Slayer and Wicca had been able to gather was splayed before them on the table, and Buffy could only conclude that it wasn’t nearly enough.

“It means,” Spike now answered her question, “that through the book we’ve narrowed the playing field down to five areas. This is good news.”

“It’s good news when I see that it actually might do us some good,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and he stared at her, knowing that the all-powerful Slayer mind was working frantically within her, but that that also meant that less of Buffy was able to shine through.

“Going into battle mode already?” he asked gently and she met his gaze, hers suddenly softening slightly and then it vanished.

“When would you have me do it, if not from the start?” she shot and he cocked an eyebrow – unfazed. “What do you suggest we do?” she then turned to Angel and the vampire hesitated, then replied:

“Have all the branches of the slayer network combine forces. Search these five areas through and through for the dragon – ten times if necessary, to be sure – and have it done before Christmas. If we don’t get to it before then – it’ll be too late.”

Buffy looked at him, then at Spike, who nodded barely noticeably to offer his consent, and the Slayer nodded as well.

“Let’s do it,” she agreed. “I’ll gather the girls tomorrow morning, give them a complete lowdown and tell them to spread the word.”

“Good,” Angel said, beginning to gather up the scarce information in a pile, putting it on the book and picking the heap up before asking: “Mind if I use the phone? Need to call Cordelia.”

“No, of course,” Buffy answered. “You know where it is,” she added and with a smile of thanks he left the room.

Buffy watched him leave, then turned her head to Spike. He had risen and was standing by the fireplace. It painted streaks of shadow up his face, tangled tresses of gilded blonde in his nearly white curls and loosened all the rough and tough in his exterior up until there was no trace of it. She watched him for a while, lost in thought, and then she suddenly spoke what was on her mind; her voice lowered as she said:

“When you stand there it feels like I’m seeing you when you were young and... un-vampire-y.”

He smiled slightly, not looking at her though he gave a small nod.

“Wasn’t bleached, though,” he then pointed out and she smiled as well.

“Were you as good-looking and athletic?” she wondered, and bit her tongue as the memories came streaming through the air as though he had dropped that comment of himself just an hour earlier.

His smile merely broadened and then he turned his head to fasten his gaze in hers. She swallowed, feeling the bridge she had earlier cursed in her mind build itself without her having anything to do with it and she knew that she would never be able to restrain herself from crossing. Not when he was at the other side, reaching out for her.

“I was,” he then smirked and her smile widened a little as well. “But the Big Bad was... awkward back then,” he sighed. “Lost and lonely and hopelessly in love. Staring into fires and wishing things would start to happen... They sure as hell did... didn’t they?” he murmured, a touch of sadness in his voice and she furrowed her brow.

“Always been bad, huh?” she asked softly and he let out a low chuckle, his eyes on the fire again.

“Yeah...” he mumbled absentmindedly, listening to the crackle of the wood and scenting the ever changing warmth in the air about his face. “Always been bad...”

Buffy suddenly laughed a little to herself and he looked back at her where she was still sitting.

“What?” he asked and she was smiling as she gave a small shrug.

“No, I just... remembered that time when...” She giggled again and he leaned against the mantel, his interest growing just by watching her relaxed and clearly enjoying herself. “I just remembered that time when you thought there was a Furlor demon in your crypt,” she finished, the giggles rising again and he clenched his jaws together as a smile immediately was born on his mouth as well. “And you were so angry at me for not... taking you seriously that you...”

“...broke the door,” he filled in and she stifled her merriment as she met his gaze. “I remember too,” he said and she smiled brightly at him.

“And do you recall who was right?” she asked teasingly and he rolled his eyes at her.

“Those bloody things are dangerous and they tare everything they see into inch-sized slices, now, can you really blame me for not wanting that to happen to my newly decorated home?” he retorted and at that her smile grew wide again.

“Some home,” she smirked and he gave her a friendly glare before leaving the fireplace and coming back up to take his seat before her.

“You liked the carpets,” he pointed out and she laughed.

“They cushioned the falls!” she replied and his eyebrows shot up.

“I’m bloody offended!”

“Well, they were sort of pretty,” she admonished and he shook his head.

“No! I always made bleeding well sure that I didn’t hurt you!” he stated and she blinked, then smiled wryly.

“Did you now?” she asked and he stared at her, then returned her smile.

“Usually,” he said and she gave him a look. “Never heard you complaining, though, did I?” he asked and she bit the inside of her cheek at the sudden urge to blush under his gaze.

“No,” she admitted, unsure of whether they were actually having this conversation.

They grew quiet, observing each other in silence. Buffy broke it by saying:

“Are you happy in L.A.?”

“Can you be happy anywhere in this bloody world?” he asked and her face told her agreement to that question.

“I’ve heard some people are,” she said.

“Lucky few,” he murmured and she nodded, an inkling of melancholy drawing over them both.

“I guess it’s always hard,” she then stated. “To find it and have it... Hold on to it... Often I suppose it just...”

“Disappears?” he filled in and she rested her gaze in his for a dragged out moment and then nodded slowly.

“I think so,” she mumbled her confirmation. “One day it’s not there anymore. Maybe most people tend to wonder if it ever was.”

He stared at her, wishing he knew exactly what it was she was talking about; the sudden tension in the air growing palpable and he swallowed, but the spell was broken as Giles walked into the room. He picked up on the strained atmosphere, but ignored dropping a comment on it as he put the heavy book he had in his arms down on the table.

“There,” he said. “Look at that. They’ve actually been able to track down a family of Hofloss’! Look at that picture! It just might get to be important for you to be able to recognize them and this is the only known document of them.”

Buffy blinked in agitation.

“If they’re so rare, doesn’t it seem more likely that I’ll walk face into a rhinoceros on the London bridge, than I will meet that anywhere – at any time?” she asked and the Watcher squinted, then looked at the picture.

“Yes... yes, you might be correct in that,” he said and she sighed, rising to her feet and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“I love you, but you drive me crazy!” she stated, turning a smile to Spike before she added: “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Giles nodded, leaning forward to look closer at the picture. “No matter, it is extraordinary,” he murmured, to himself, and the vampire to his right rose from his chair as well.

“Night, Rupert,” he said and the Watcher paused to give the vamp a good- sized glare in irritation before the former went back to his studies.

Spike felt elevated as he tried not to bounce up the stairs. However tentative – something was coming together concerning him and Buffy. He hadn’t felt this happy in an unthinkable amount of time and was just getting ready to celebrate it with a round at the local bar when the sound of crying stopped him.

He was situated outside Dawn’s door, and he pushed it open after knocking twice.

“Leave me alone,” she sobbed and he frowned as he approached her where she lay on her bed, her face buried in a pillow and her shoulders shaking. “I don’t wanna... talk about it.”

“I don’t wanna listen so that suits me just fine,” he replied and she rolled over to get to look up at him.

“I thought you were Buffy,” she said and he smiled.

“Got that,” he stated. “Now, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were upset about something.”

“Thought you said you didn’t wanna listen.”

“I’ll let you bend my ear, Bit,” he said, having a seat on the edge of the bed across from her and she sniffled as she dragged herself into a seated position.

“There’s this guy.”

“Ah.”

“And he’s pretty mean.”

“Ah-hah.”

“And I really like him.”

“Why?”

“Because... he’s cute, and funny – when he wants to be – and he makes me feel the butterflies all over,” she finished.

“Sounds like you’ve got a crush on the fella,” Spike said and a fresh batch of tears rose in her eyes. He disliked seeing them there, especially over some wanker who most probably didn’t even deserve them anyway. “Shouldn’t you be talking to Buffy ‘bout this?” he asked and Dawn shook her head.

“She’ll just say that if he’s not nice to me I should get the hell away from him.”

“She’s right,” Spike agreed.

“’Course you say that,” she muttered and he cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, come on! YOU’RE gonna go against what my sister says? I don’t think so.”

“Teen-attitude coming into play, is it?” he wondered and received a meek smile at that. “Buffy’s right ‘cause she’s right,” he then said. “She loves you...”

“...and wants what’s best for me and blah-blah. Well, I’m sorry, but I’m almost eighteen – I think I’m allowed to hook up with whomever I choose.”

“Okay... So why are you choosing this guy? If he’s mean to you...”

“He’s... nice-mean,” she tried to explain. “I mean, he says things that keep me alert. Like he’ll comment on my clothes or my hair, and I might get mad or hurt, but underneath it all I can tell he’s only teasing, you know? Like he just wants to get a reaction from me.”

Spike smiled at that.

“Then talk to him, pet,” he encouraged. “Find out, before you go get all wet-cheeks over him. Alright?”

Dawn returned the smile, sniffling and then drying her tears as she nodded.

“Alright,” she agreed and he gave a nod, then stood. “Spike,” she stopped him at the door and he looked back at her. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said and he smiled at her, then stepped outside and gently closed the door behind him.

He headed to his room, not taking notice of how one of the shadows by the stairs stirred as he closed his own door. Buffy stepped into the light, staring after him and feeling her heart swell with pride for him. And with herself, for having seen this in him, even if it had been slim to too late. He had touched her, the way he had just now touched Dawn, and she had loved him for it.

With every last part of her.

¤¤¤

“I wish you could stay,” Buffy said the following evening as Angel zipped up his bag and turned to her.

“Me too,” he assured, reaching out and taking her hand in one of his.

“I know, I know,” she sighed. “Duty calls.”

He smiled and nodded, letting her hand go as he grabbed his bag and they headed out of the room. They walked downstairs and Angel put the bag down on the hall floor, looking up the stairs in wait for his bleached colleague.

“He can’t pack a suitcase to save his life,” Angel muttered and Buffy smiled.

“I’ll go check what’s taking him,” she said, beginning to walk up the stairs and having Angel call after her:

“I just told you! He can’t pack a suitcase to save his life!”

“But he doesn’t have a life to save!” she shot, reaching the landing and walking down the hallway.

She stopped by Spike’s door and then knocked lightly. She didn’t wait for an answer, but pushed the door open and stepped inside. He twirled around where he stood by the bed and looked at her with an edginess she hadn’t seen in him since he had been back.

“Sorry, I’ll leave you alone,” she apologized, turning when he said:

“I can’t get the bleeding thing closed!” She halted, struggling to keep her smile back as she turned to him again. “You smirk and you lose your bloody lips, Slayer!” he warned and she nodded, beating back any sign of glee on her part as she walked up to him.

She looked at the duffle bag and raised her eyebrows.

“Spike, why don’t you boys go out and get some new clothes? This worn black theme is getting a little bit dated, don’t you agree?” she asked, reaching in and pulling out one of his T’s.

“If I agreed I wouldn’t be wearing it, now would I?” he bit and she blinked, dropping the clothing back in its confinement and crossing her arms over her chest.

“You realize I’m only trying to help here, right?”

“You realize I didn’t sodding ask you to come in here to give me buggering fashion advice?!” he mimicked her and she raised her eyebrows at his irritation.

“Fine,” she grumbled, grabbing the bag and with an elegant flick of the wrist zipping it shut.

Shoving it into his chest she turned around and walked out of the room again, leaving him staring after her. Then he smirked, grabbing his duster and hurrying in her footsteps. He caught up with her on the first step of the stairs and she glanced at him. He did the same, having stripped the pleasure and replaced it with pure earnestness he said:

“Thank you.”

She looked up at him as they reached the hall floor and then smiled.

“Welcome,” she replied and he smiled back.

“Let’s go or we’ll miss the flight,” Angel encouraged by the door.

Buffy walked up to him, hugging him hard and he did the same before they let go.

“Keep in touch,” she said and he nodded, opening the door and walking through it.

Giles had already brought the car to the front and was waiting impatiently.

“Alright then,” Spike muttered, approaching the doorway in which Buffy was standing.

He paused by her, looking down at her and she gazed up at him, still smiling a little.

“Take care,” she mumbled and he smiled back, clenching the hand holding the bag into a tight fist to keep himself from touching her.

“I’ll see you,” he said and she nodded, watching him as he got moving and walked down the stone-studded path to the gate and the awaiting car.

She didn’t move until the headlights of it had been swallowed by the nearby forest, then she shivered with a sudden gust of wind and stepped inside, closing the door and thinking the house much too still for comfort.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Up the stairs, locked up safely

A distance fulfills its meaning

As fear comes closer bravely

To release this well-known feeling

I am not unhappy

Not directly

Just a bit cold and comfortably lonely

But I hope I fill eventually dare to defy

My funny reasons or at least try

To find a spot

And empty space

Another room

Another place

If the mask falls off

Or incase

One of us would change our ways

As my lonely whishes start

Secretly lost in the dark

-Dilba, Not Directly-

¤

Lesson the Seventh

¤

“There are the easy ways, of course... Trying to fight evil you can take easy routes that’ll make things simpler, make the burden you’re carrying feel lighter. However, when you take these routes it’s much easier to get... seduced by it. Letting evil too close is never a good idea.”

“Aren’t you the slayer who had two vampire lovers at the same time?”

Buffy blinked, directing her gaze in the young girl’s sitting to the right of her on the grass.

“Ahem, no,” she then answered. “No, not at the same time – at all. And there was only the one who actually became my... Know what? It’s not really important.”

“If you’re gonna preach morals, I think it is,” the girl shot and Buffy’s eyes widened slightly before she said:

“What’s your name?”

“Why? Are you gonna report me to the principal’s office?”

There were scattered laughs and Buffy’s eyes became razor sharp as she gave the crowd a silencing gaze. It worked within seconds and everyone’s focus was on her once more.

“I would say to anyone of you – don’t ever do what I did. Don’t fall in love with things that shouldn’t be loved because they can’t love you back. If a vampire tries to sweet-talk you it’s merely to get into the position where he can kill you.”

“Right, and that would be on top,” the girl commented and Buffy felt her patience begin to snap in two.

“Sometimes, yeah,” she then nodded. “Or with his mouth kissing your neck – to then change face on you and sink his teeth through your flesh? Believe me, it only hurts for a second – and you want it to. Or how about his hands being so intoxicating that you can’t get enough of them on you – until he suddenly uses them to stick a knife in your side?” Now the serenity on everyone’s faces was not to be mistaken. “I’ve only had a few encounters where I’ve been willing to sacrifice myself for a demon, and in the circumstances surrounding those encounters there has been a whole truck- load of history involved. And sometimes a spell or two – but there’s no use getting into that.” Relieved laughs all around and Buffy smiled lightly, though the severe tone in her voice didn’t escape them as she continued:

“There are times when you will encounter beings which are, at the core, good. When you do you have to try and look passed their exterior and recognize that goodness. There is, however, one enormous ‘but’ to this equation. Because it is up to each and every one of you to trust your own instincts and SEE that goodness, not only think it’s there. You have to know for absolute certain before you begin putting any kind of trust whatsoever into the hands of a potential enemy. As for me,” she finished, locking gaze with the obstinate girl again: “I never bestowed love or trust upon any being that didn’t deserve it. That should serve as defense enough.”

“I heard you fell in love with a vampire that wasn’t only soulless, but tried to kill most of your friends including you on several occasions,” the girl said, unwilling to let it go, and Buffy sighed.

“Know what – I don’t care what the hell you’ve heard. Is this the way it is now? We have our own private little slayer gossip department? I’ll tell you this one time – my private life is none of your business. My history as the Slayer is that I’ve saved this world more times than any other before me, and that should be all the credential you need. If you want the sorted details that’s your problem – not mine.”

With that she turned around and marched out of the garden and into Giles’ house, leaving most of the young girls nodding their heads in agreement. Buffy proceeded into the kitchen, where Willow was preparing tea. She looked up when the blonde entered, and put on an empathic expression at her friend’s irate manner.

“God, how I could use a drink,” the Slayer murmured and Willow smiled widely, pouring her a cup of tea and putting it before her.

Buffy glanced at it.

“Go on, it’s good for the nerves. Laced with sugar and honey,” the Wicca tempted and Buffy moaned before taking it and putting it to her mouth.

“Ah – hot,” she said, licking her lips and then looking back at the redhead. “Do you know what they asked me?”

“I eavesdropped,” Willow confessed. “So, yeah. Oh, the audacity!”

“Indeed!” Buffy agreed, taking another sip and shaking her head. “They shouldn’t care about anything but how high I can kick and how accurate I hit a vamp’s heart...”

“Which, let’s face it, is dead on every time,” Willow chimed in, and Buffy gave her a look at her sarcasm. “What? I’m just saying! You have a way of making them grovel. I mean – INTO grovel.”

Buffy shook her head at her.

“I’m done with all of that,” she stated and Willow raised her eyebrows.

“Did you talk to Angel last night?” she asked, referring to the Slayer’s frequent calls placed across seas and Buffy shrugged.

“Shop talk,” she replied and Willow smiled a little.

“And Spike?”

“No,” Buffy answered, shaking her head. “He wasn’t there.”

“Oh,” Willow merely said, bringing out the bread and jam and beginning to prepare a tray to take into the garden.

Buffy watched her for a short while, then couldn’t keep it in anymore as she burst:

“Oh – what?”

“Just ‘oh, so you asked for him?’,” the redhead answered casually and Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I asked for him! He’s a friend, isn’t he?” Willow nodded, looking perfectly innocent as she put the final cups on the tray and grabbed it in both hands. Buffy following her back through the rooms toward the entrance to the terrace. “I wasn’t all oh-my-god-where-is-he! I asked – he wasn’t there – end of story. I wanted to say ‘hi’ and that was it, so it wasn’t a big deal that he wasn’t there.”

“Did you ask where he was?”

“Angel didn’t know,” Buffy grumbled, filing out behind the Wicca into the blazing autumn sun and then feigning a sigh as she sunk down on one of the lawn chairs.

Willow flashed her a meaningful smile as she headed for the group of slayerettes still seated on the lawn. Buffy made a face in aggravation at her friend’s teasing and then sunk further into the chair’s cushions.

“I really wasn’t all oh-my-god-where-is-he,” she muttered to herself, plucking with the hem of her shirt and sighing.

He had probably been out on some late-night... round-about... freakish... hellish ordeal, the poor thing. Or he’d been for a walk, maybe. Or to some bar someplace, all alone. Talking to some guy over a beer and some peanuts, discussing past adventures no doubt. And perhaps some girl had walked up to him and he’d smiled at her, but of course he wouldn’t fall for her cheesy routine and dumb-witted attempts of seduction! He’d see right through that and he wouldn’t want it! It wasn’t his style! Then again...

A mental image of him slow-dancing with some trashy ho in a tight mini- skirt and see-through top, the wench’s hands all over his black leather duster and her nose shoved into his T, drawing in his scent, came before the Slayer’s eyes and she closed them hard; willing it away with all her might.

“God dammit,” she cursed herself, rising and heading back inside.

It had been almost a month since the two vampires headed back to Los Angeles, and she still couldn’t get the odd occasions of her being alone with the bleach-head out of her thoughts! The night when they had had such a brief conversation about times past... How he had smiled... How she had smiled! She missed him; it was as simple as that. She hated that he was across the globe when she was used to him being there... when he could be there. He should be THERE, and not in the States! He would be a resource! She needed him there, to help with all the things prominent while searching the different supposed nesting grounds for their still sleeping beast!

But no, of course he couldn’t be there. He had a whole other... reality created for himself in L.A. now. An everyday. A job, a home, friends. Things she couldn’t really offer. No matter how much she missed talking to him, discussing with him, hearing his reassurances...

And that was what it came down to.

She growled from another wave of irritation at herself and her persistence in not letting him go!

Slamming the door to her room shut she walked up and glared out the window, her posture rigid. Things were different now. She had no right to even wish him there. He was out of her life. And how it scratched. She looked at her watch, counting the hours and finding it should be around four-thirty in the morning over there. She walked up to her phone and punched in the number Angel had given her to the other vamp’s apartment, knowing that there were no excuses this time – if Spike picked up, she would have to talk with him. There was no backing out, no saying that she hadn’t called just to... hear his voice.

“Yeah?”

She clenched her jaws together so tightly she thought she’d crack a tooth.

“Morning,” she then said lightly and there was a pause before she could hear the creek of leather and gathered he was sitting down.

“Morning,” he replied and she smiled a little, beginning to twirl the cord of the phone between her fingers to keep them from trembling. “Anything wrong?” he inquired.

“No, I just... don’t remember why I called,” she answered, biting her lower lip and shaking her head at herself.

“I meant if that was why you were calling – ‘cause something was wrong,” he clarified and her smile widened slightly.

“No, nothing’s wrong. We’re working... All of us are. I’m lecturing the youngens,” she said and she could hear him chuckle. “In fact... they were what made me wanna call you,” she added, unsure of exactly where she was going with that statement.

“Really?” he asked, intrigued. “They hear a tale of William the Bloody? Wanted to get a first hand view?”

She felt her heart beat elevate.

“As a matter of fact,” she then lied clean through her teeth. “Giles and I were wondering if you wouldn’t like to... stop by. I mean, not right now! But if you and Angel are going on a trip somewhere close by you might as well... pop in. Say hi. Scare the still-weak-of-heart. Same old, same old.” She felt like she was about to faint from mere stupidity. How lame could she get?!

Spike listened to the very slight quiver in her voice and strained to see if he could pick up any other sign of jitters on her, but couldn’t. Gathering she was merely unsure of how to best present her case he let it go and answered:

“Sounds good. I think we’re leaving for Cortina in two weeks or so. Perhaps we could come see you on our way back? Be right around Halloween.”

“Perfect for the scaring,” she nodded. “Consider it a standing invitation,” she added and he smiled a little.

“Alright then,” he agreed. “I’ll call you with the exact date,” he added and she hesitated, not willing to hang up just yet.

“Are you working as well?” she therefore asked.

“Breaking our backs,” he assured and she smiled again.

“That’s good,” she said, thinking better of it she corrected: “I mean, no, that’s terrible! No breaking of the backs!”

He laughed, and she felt warm fingers pull themselves down her back and over her arms, creating delicious goose-bumps on her skin.

“Do you think...?” She trailed off, not wanting to sound childish, but still not able to let it go she finished: “You think we’ll make it? Think we’ll... slay the dragon?”

“We have two more months,” he replied; adding matter-of-factly: “I’m absolutely bloody positive we’ll make it.”

She smiled.

“You always do that,” she mumbled, almost absentminded as to the fact that she was speaking directly into his ear.

“What?” he asked softly.

“Comfort me...” she said and he smiled at that.

She brought herself out of the slight state of reminiscing she had drifted into, blinking and then trying to untwist her finger which had gotten caught in the cord.

“Sorry... I’m a little... Ao...” she muttered, tearing her finger loose and shaking it. “Just a little tired,” she finished her sentence. “My mind wanders,” she added and he smirked.

“Let it,” he encouraged and she smiled as well. “I’ll call you,” he repeated and she nodded.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay,” he agreed, waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t. “Bye,” he added.

“Bye,” she murmured, putting the receiver down and burying her face in her hands. “Idiot!” she exclaimed at herself. “Idiotidiotidiot!”

Oh, come scare the poor little slayers! Oh, perfect around Halloween! Oh, if you’re ever close by – say, Indonesia – why don’t you pop by for tea?

“Idiot!” she exclaimed again, throwing herself on her bed.

Spike hung up his phone and leaned back in the armchair he was in. He wore a frown, and a smile. Unsure of what to think of the pretty odd call from a woman he had known for a long time to be... well, sometimes she could ramble like hell, but had she ever with him? Short, to the point, concise – that was the Slayer he knew. The smile broadened slightly as he replayed the conversation... She had asked for both him and Angel, though, so he shouldn’t take too much out of it. However, she had called HIM – and that was always something.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

One flight down there’s a song on low

And you might just picked up on the sound

And now you know that you’re wrong

Because it drifts like smoke

And it’s been there, playing all along

Now you know

Now you know

-Norah Jones, One Flight Down-

¤

Lesson the Eighth

¤

“You can’t save them.”

She turned her head to look into the eyes of herself, and smiled a small smile.

“I’m starting to get the bigger picture here,” she stated, her voice cold. “And you’re as scared now as you were then.”

The First observed her for a short moment, and then let out a hearty laugh, shaking the replica-of-hers head and smiling condescendingly.

“The sad part,” it then said, “is that you seem to actually believe that. My kind WILL take this earth from you, Slayer. And when it does it will tip the scale and I will be made flesh,” it then repeated what it had stated on the night of its previous forced retreat.

Buffy shook her head slowly.

“Is that what you want?” she asked. “Is that all you want?”

“Well, the world domination sort of comes with it,” it shrugged, smiling a wicked smile as it added: “Most of all, what I’ve always longed for... is to feel.”

At that it plunged its hands straight through her and the pain that came with it woke the Slayer with a scream of agony. Her breathing was erratic as she stared at the wall opposite her bed, then she calmed it down. Closing her eyes she took a few deep breaths, and leaned back against her pillows. The door was thrown open by Giles who entered the room with a worried frown on, sitting down beside her and reaching out to feel her forehead.

“You have a fever,” he murmured. “The dreams are getting worse, aren’t they?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured. “I just need a moment.”

“You have to confront it. It only has this power over you because you let it into your head!” he said and she met his gaze with one growing slightly aggravated.

“And I’m letting it because it might give us a clue as to what the hell is going to happen!” she shot, drawing another breath as she began to cough.

“It’s blowing your immune system right out of the water,” he retorted, making her look at him again as he added: “I’m frightened for you.”

“For me?” she asked, her gaze gentler before she continued: “Be frightened for yourself. For those girls out there fighting the fight! For Dawn and Willow. I’m strong, Giles – I can handle this. The second I can’t, I’ll put an end to it.” He was about to protest, but she shook her head, holding back another cough as she said: “Trust me... I know what I’m doing, and I have to do this.”

He clenched his jaws together and then rose.

“I’ll make you some tea,” he said and she shook her head again.

“Just get some sleep, you need it,” she said. “I’ll make some tea – it’s okay.”

He hesitated, then did as she asked and exited the room, still with a strained countenance about him. She sighed, putting the back of her hand to her brow and feeling how it truly was burning. This was the last thing she needed.

“Perfect,” she muttered. “Just perfect.”

She contemplated making that tea, but drifted off before she could get herself out of bed.

The following morning the cold had hit with full force and by that evening she had been sniffling for the entire day. She lay wrapped in a thick blanket on the living room couch, flipping through the channels of the TV, when the front door opened.

“Ho-ho-ho!” Angel’s voice was heard and she blinked, sure she must be hallucinating.

They weren’t due for another four days.

“Wrong holiday, mate,” Spike’s voice remarked and she pulled herself up to be able to see over the back of the couch.

“Right,” Angel nodded, changing his appearance into his vampire one and having Spike do the same. “Let’s see if we can stir up some screams.”

Buffy rolled her eyes at them. Seemed they had taken her reason for their visit literally. She crawled off the couch and cut their path through the den to the kitchen short as she stepped out before them. They stripped back into their human faces and she smiled a little.

“It’s not Halloween quite yet, either,” she pointed out and the two of them smiled.

“Ever heard of the element of surprise?” Angel asked and she smirked.

“Ever heard of actually giving someone a heart attack?” she shot and he smiled again, then furrowed his brow.

“You sick?” he asked and she shrugged.

“It’s nothing,” she promised, looking at Spike who was eyeing her keenly. “It’s nothing!” she added and he merely cocked an eyebrow.

“Looks like you can just about stand up,” he said and she sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around her and then dragging her feet back into the living room.

“Great, two concerned vampires on my back, that’s all I need,” she grunted and both said vampires stopped, looking at each other and then back at her.

“Come again?” Spike said.

“Yeah, I think I missed that last part,” Angel agreed and she glared at them, sinking back down on the couch and grabbing the remote.

“I get enough of it already!” she exclaimed, stopping her changing-channels on an episode of Fawlty Towers and giggling to herself as Manuel delivered his standard line of ‘Que?’. “Everybody’s been sneaking around me all day, trying to make me ‘comfortable’,” she added.

“Sounds horrible,” Angel nodded. “I feel terrible, is there anything we can do to dethrone you, milady?” he added and Spike chuckled.

Buffy sat up and turned her head to them, but at their merriment she couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m not all that used to being sick, I guess. I hate how I’m all itchy and feel like I’ve been turned inside out and know what I dislike the most?” They shook their heads. “That I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe at all through my nose! But if I breathe for too long through my mouth it gets dry and I start to cough worse than ever, and then I can’t breathe ‘cause of that!”

Angel and Spike both looked at her and she turned her gaze from one to the other before she smiled once more.

“It’s nice to have you here, though,” she stated and they both returned her smile. “How come you’re early?” she wondered.

“Thing in Cortina didn’t pan out,” Angel replied and she raised her eyebrows.

“So, instead of spending a few days of fun-in-the-heat you decided to come and see me?” she asked. “I am deeply moved!”

“Buffy, I’m back!” Willow yelled from the kitchen and they could hear the door slam. “Jessie said she’d be by later, she needed to talk to you about something that had to do with the dig-sight in Japan! So, maybe you should try and get some sleep so you’re all awake when she gets here? Also, I bought some of that green tea you like so much! Thought that might cheer you up a little!”

Buffy made a meaningful gesture to the doorway leading to the kitchen and the two vamps smirked.

“Thanks, Wills!” she then called back. “And would you mind throwing two mugs of B positive in the microwave while you’re at it?” she added and there was silence for a few seconds, then Willow joined them in the living room.

“Angel. Spike. You’re early,” she said, smiling as she gave them both a brief kiss on the cheek.

“Already established,” Buffy stated. “And you guys are in the same rooms as you had last time,” she added. “If you wanna go up and unpack.”

“Thanks,” Angel nodded, heading for the hall and his bag.

“I’ll make you that dinner,” Willow said and the two smiled their thanks as she proceeded back into the kitchen.

“You’ll let me know?” Buffy asked as Spike was one step from walking into the hall and he turned his head to her, quizzical. “If you need any help opening the bag,” she elaborated and he stared at her for a moment, then smirked self-consciously, leaving the room.

She smiled as well, feeling the cold already begin to get better.

¤¤¤

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” she said two hours later, when they were all seated around the dinner table.

Giles and Dawn had already retired for the night, having finished their food. Willow was out walking with Kennedy. A candelabra was placed in the middle of the table, and the glow it produced created a calm atmosphere. Now the two vampires looked at the Slayer, waiting for her to continue.

“I know for a fact that the First has joined the game,” she stated, her eyes going to Spike, whose body was growing slightly stiffer. “I had a dream again last night, and this time there was no doubt about it – it was that thing, and not a memory. I don’t think it’s as powerful as it was in Sunnydale, though... It only comes to me in my dreams now. But the fact that it’s there... I don’t like it. I have a funny feeling down my back because of it.”

Spike blinked, then asked:

“You’ve had other dreams?”

“Yes,” she nodded, suddenly noticing his facial expression.

“About the First?” he wondered and she frowned. “Was I in any of them?” he finally was able to inquire and she felt her heart begin to beat harder in her chest.

“Yes,” she admonished. “In... almost all of them,” she added and his expression was tightening.

“Did I kill you?”

She couldn’t take her eyes out of his, the growing confusion and surprise was mingling within her.

“Yes,” she then nearly whispered.

“How?” he demanded and she swallowed.

“A knife,” she murmured.

“In a cave,” he now more stated than asked. “You were hanging... like I was when you...”

He trailed off and sudden tears glistened in her eyes.

“You’ve been dreaming it too,” she said and he nodded.

Angel’s eyes went from one to the other, the questions starting to gather in his head.

“I don’t get it!” Buffy suddenly exclaimed, swiping at her tears and coughing lightly before she stood. “I don’t understand why the hell it would play us off each other like that! I didn’t even know you were alive!”

“All the more reason, then,” Angel pointed out gently, trying to have her sit down again, but she brushed his hand away and shook her head, gaze still locked in Spike’s.

“I really can’t breathe in here,” she finally said, turning and leaving the room.

Spike locked his eyes on one of the dancing flames, not moving for such a long time that Angel lost his patience completely.

“You need to talk about this – both of you,” he said, grabbing Spike’s arm and dragging him to his feet. “Go find her,” the former then instructed. “Whatever the dreams mean, you have to figure it out!” he added at the blank look he got from the vampire. “It might be important.”

Spike did as the other asked, leaving the room but walking deliberately slow in order to clear his own head before having to face her again. Why had they been dreaming the same dream? What was the link? Was it another sacrifice that needed to be made? Was this the real reason he had been brought back? It seemed absurd. But... wasn’t that the song of the whole situation?

He took a small breath as he stopped by the doors of the terrace, her scent still lingering in the air and he turned the knob before stepping outside. There was an October chill in the wind that stroked his neck almost timidly, but as his eyes landed on her form at the end of the garden he thought little of anything but how fragile she looked.

The view of an English countryside heaved in blue moonlight was spread like a painting before her, and she tried to lose herself in it so that she didn’t have to think about how afraid she was. Of losing him again, of facing this enemy again, of letting it infest her head... but most of all, of allowing herself to care enough to go through all the pain again.

She more felt than heard him approach, and when he stopped by her side she closed her eyes for a moment.

“Why can’t life ever be simple?” she asked and he smiled a half smile.

“You asking me ‘cause you need an answer, or ‘cause you believe I actually have one?” he asked back and she opened her eyes again, a barely visible smile occurring on her lips as well.

“What do you think it all means?” she wondered.

“All?” he inquired softly and she turned her head to look up at him.

“You not telling me you were alive. The dreams of the thing that killed you. The coming of another apocalypse. The means we have to stop it, and yet... this undeniable option that we may not.”

“That option is what keeps our eye on the target, love,” he said and she clenched her jaws together, turning from him again and looking out over the vast landscape.

He studied her for a minute of quiet, then continued with:

“It used us – just like it did before. It tried to hit our weaker spots, singled them out and unwrapped them like they were bloody bubble-gum!”

“I never thought you’d kill me,” she disagreed. “I haven’t feared that since before your soul...”

“But I did,” he interrupted her and she furrowed her brow, eyes again in his. “It controlled me once; it could easily do it again... In that dream, Buffy...”

“Spike,” she shook her head, her gaze growing gentle.

“What of YOU, then?” he asked, gaining control over his emotions and holding her eyes steadily.

She had to look away.

Then she sat down, the blanket still around her shoulders. After another few moments he took a seat beside her in the grass.

“Like you said – it hits our weaker spots. It used images to... hurt me,” she mumbled. “I had accepted your death a while back, but...” She trailed off, tearing up grass with one hand and for a second lost in the sound that the ripping strands made; then she turned her head to him and finished: “But when the dreams started, it all got torn up again. All the memories of... well, you.”

He tilted his head a little to one side and she had to smile at the familiar gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he said and she shook her head a little.

“It’s not your fault,” she stated.

“I should’ve...”

“No,” she cut him off. “You shouldn’t have done anything you didn’t want to do.”

“Buffy...”

“Spike, we’re back where we started. Square one – this is it. This is exactly like that year. Only this time we have an army of our own. I’m its general, no matter how many slayers are out there. I have the most experience, and I always will – till the day that experience kills me. I’ll lead them, no matter where that takes me. This is who I am. It’s what I am. But you – you have something now. A home, a place where you’re wanted, people who care about you. You shouldn’t have to fight my war again.”

He stared at her, disbelieving what she was saying.

When she suddenly struggled to her feet, untangling the blanket as she went, he rose as well. She looked up at him again and he recognized the true face of the Slayer. Hard, unrelenting and showing every ounce of the warrior that she was.

“Leave,” she said. “Go back to Los Angeles. I don’t want you or Angel here. You don’t have to get involved. Go back home.”

She walked passed him and he stood motionless for a split second, then swiveled around.

“You are some piece of bloody work,” he said, having her stop a few yards away from him and slowly turn back to him. “Then again, I always knew that,” he added, shaking his head as he glared at her, picking up with: “I’m already ‘involved’, Slayer! I’m bloody swimming in involvement and it takes just so much to keep me at float! Are you crazy? Did you fall off a cliff or something while we were away and hit your buggering head? You’re leading them. You’re the general. I get that and I agree with you whole- heartedly. But this is NOT your personal war, love. If it starts, this war’ll have you choose sides faster than you can sing... some very quick- paced song!” he exclaimed and at his clear anger she felt her headfast-ness begin to break down, the shadow of a smile curling the edges of her mouth at his last sentence.

“It’s not funny,” he said and she shook her head, killing the smile. “And do you think we’ll be all safe and sound just ‘cause we cross the bleeding Atlantic?! You can’t push us to some far end corner and have us sit tight. We’re in this, just as much as you are, and you know it! And...” he paused, looking at her and seemingly calming himself down before he finished softly: “...whatever is supposed to happen – will.”

She looked away from him.

She was aching inside with the need to put the ones she loved in a glass box that would keep them safe until the storm was over.

“I can’t bear to watch more people... that I care for, die,” she said. “I’m scared that if I have to go through it all again... I’ll disappear. I’ll lose myself. That the humanity I still have left will go away... The passed year I’ve felt...”

She looked up and into his eyes again and the sudden air of delicacy about her that he had taken notice of before – was reborn. He could tell this was something that had been weighing on her for a long time, and he remembered the talk they had had in an abandoned house only a few nights before his second death...

She had said that she had always cut herself off. That she had never let people too close. Now he watched the same changing emotions on her face as she continued silently:

“I’ve felt alone. And I’ve enjoyed it. I’m beginning to grow into the ammo of every slayer before me. I prided myself that I had family, that I had friends back in Sunnydale. But here, right now, I can tell you that in the end all that matters to me is the slay. The save. And I can’t stand the thought of their death being in my hands, because if I have to choose between them and the world – I will choose the world. I can’t...”

She trailed off and he observed her with a warmth she didn’t think she deserved.

“Buffy,” he said softly. “It doesn’t mean you love them less.”

“But I can’t live with myself if I have to make that decision. What if I have to sacrifice Willow next? Or Dawn? I already had to give up Angel, and then...”

She glanced at the vamp before her, forcing the flood-gates closed before the stream completely got the better of her. She wasn’t sure of what she would say, but she felt she had poured her heart out to him enough as it was already.

“God, you’re too easy to talk to, you know that?” she asked, the sudden wryness in her voice caught him slightly off guard, but her composed expression told him that she had presumably regained control of herself. “You always were,” she added and he smiled a little.

“A compliment? I’m bloody thrilled,” he said and she smirked.

“Come on, there were a few.”

“Well, a few does come to mind,” he nodded, coming up to walk beside her as they headed for the door inside.

“Mr. Bloody, I do believe you are being crude!” she said and he laughed, holding the door open for her.

“Look whose talking,” he then remarked and she gave him a bright smile as he followed her through the doorway.

They walked up the stairs and as he stopped by his door he said:

“Buffy.”

She turned to him, questioning.

“Your humanity isn’t something you can just lose. Trust me, I know. It’s there. And no matter how afraid you are of it leaving you, all you have to do is smile and everybody around you’ll see it. Just let those who love you, love you.”

At the mention of smiling a tentative expression of it had drawn itself on her mouth, and as he finished she couldn’t wipe it away. He returned it, opening his door and disappearing inside.

She felt quivers of happiness begin to run through her as she had to admit that no matter how she had managed to carefully tread around it – she was still in love with him. She was stronger with him near her because when she faltered he was there to straighten her up, remind her of why she was who she was and why she did what she did. Remind her that no matter what happened, she had a source of support and people who – for better or worse – stood by her because they believed in her.

And she had genuinely wanted him to go away.

Suddenly she realized why.

The First.

Even the last year of Sunnydale’s existence, the First had continually tried to break the Slayer and the Vamp apart. Even then it had seen how they depended on each other...

But that’s not the way it is now, Buffy told herself, closing the door to her own bedroom and distractedly turning on the light. He doesn’t depend on me... The love that used to be there...

She couldn’t even think the thought to completion, feeling nauseated by it. Flopping herself on her bed she stared at the ceiling.

So, she had gotten her answer to why the dreams had occurred now.

Spike and her... They were fire and ice, but combined and stronger for it. Their dependence on the other was what forged them together into something unstoppable because they knew the other so well... at least in spirit.

She smiled to herself.

Their strength as warriors had crushed the First once and the only reason for it to prey on their dreams now was to sow fear in them, of trusting one another again, of regaining the ground which had been lost and once more stand to face each other. But the First had failed once more.

Because he’s here now, she thought.

And, no, she really didn’t want him to leave.

Ever.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

I will go down with this ship, I won’t put my hands up and surrender

There will be no white flag above my door

I’m in love, and always will be

And when we meet, which I’m sure we will

All that was there will be there still

I’ll let it pass, and hold my tongue

And you will feel, that I’ve moved on

-Dido, White Flag-

¤

Lesson the Ninth

¤

She wasn’t alone in her room.

Outside the rain fell in heavy cascades, drumming against her window in a never faltering roll. Lightening cut the black clouds and lit the room in bright white light.

She wasn’t alone.

At the foot of her bed stood an assembly of pale, unearthly beings, staring down at her with a mixture of dislike and disgust. Their eyes reflected the light the way a predator’s does; flickering in silver and green and yellow. The colors vanishing as shadow fell across the floor again, leaving way for brown and blue and steely gray. They watched her with a tolerance she felt slipping through the air to surround her. As though there was only so much they could take and that in the next instant the might all pounce on her. All of them were wearing ankle-long black capes, and some had the hood flicked up to frame their face.

Suddenly a beautiful young woman broke from the crowd and slowly came up to the side of the bed.

The Slayer stared at her as the other gave her a gentle smile.

As the woman leaned forward her long auburn locks graced the Slayer’s cheek, and the latter thought she could smell a distant scent of roses. Then the woman’s lips touched the Slayer’s cheek and for a moment there was complete stillness – before it was torn apart by growing hisses in objection from the woman’s kin observing the scene.

Buffy opened her eyes, and the images were gone.

She had no clue if she had been dreaming or if she had been hallucinating. She barely knew if they might even have been real. What she did know was that her skin was peeling off her body. She was on fire. Every last cell of her was clawing with pain. She had to be dying.

She screamed.

Screamed...

And screamed...

Hands clutched her shoulders. Tightly. She tore to get loose. Just made it tighter.

“Buffy!”

Distant...

“Buffy!”

Closer...

“Bloody hell!”

Something stung her cheek. Another slap brought her out of it and the world came rushing back. She was dripping with perspiration, her skin was flushed and her eyes glazed over with the fever raking her body. She took small, pressed breaths, staring into his apprehensive gaze.

“That’s it,” he whispered, blinking back the tears of fright in his eyes as he stroked gentle fingers over the cheek they had just been forced to hit; moving his hand up to brush away the sweat-stained tangles of blonde hair which lay across her forehead. “That’s it. Calm down, baby... take a deep breath with me now.”

She did as he instructed, drawing her lungs full of air in a quivering breath and when that first had been taken, the others came much easier. His hands were on either side of her face now, resting there carefully to keep her eyes in his. His gaze grew tenderer as he felt how the temperature already was settling. He nodded a little.

“That’s it,” he mumbled for the third time and her gaze began to slowly clear of fear and disorientation, a glimmer of recognition was there and he smiled with flickering relief in his breast.

She blinked, her eyes quickly filling with tears.

“They’re here,” she whispered and he furrowed his brow.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her tears ran over and then her arms slipped up as she pulled herself closer, nestling her face in the cranny of his neck and her hold on him hardening. He closed his eyes, returning the embrace with all the love he had in him, hoping it would seep into her and somehow help ease the lingering aftershock of whatever nightmare she had suffered.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled.

They sat there for a long while.

Finally, as Buffy’s breathing had steadied and her grasp had loosened slightly, Spike opened his eyes reluctantly.

“You need sleep, love,” he murmured, moving his hands over her arms and then having her pull back to look up at him.

“I need a lot of things,” she mumbled back, looking into his eyes with such a subtle insinuation that he wasn’t even sure he was reading it right.

“Face the demon haunting you,” he said softly. “Get it the hell out.”

She graced him with the hint of a smile at that and he smiled back – encouraged.

“You can’t do this anymore,” he stated. “Shut it out. Understand?”

She smiled with more distinction then nodded her agreement.

“Lie down,” he said gently. “Close your eyes.”

She looked at him for another moment before she complied and slid down, putting her head on her pillow with her gaze still in his.

“Close your eyes,” he repeated with a slight smile and her face softened as she reached out and let one hand carefully slip into one of his.

He swallowed, then gave a small nod of assurance that he wouldn’t leave and she smiled that shadow of a smile again before shutting her eyes. He held her hand, watching her fall asleep and staying with her until he was sure that she would be alright. He could barely bring himself to rise, but for some reason he simply could not picture himself in that room when morning arrived.

He gently put her hand down on her stomach, leaning closer and pausing for a second before placing a feather-light kiss on her forehead.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

¤¤¤

“You look like yourself again,” Dawn remarked as she pulled apart the drapes in the Slayer’s bedroom the following morning. “Finally!” the younger added.

Buffy chewed her eggs, nodding and smiling though her mind was wandering something awful.

“Well, being so far into your calling I’m not surprised you’ve learned how to master the techniques of control and self-awareness which is required to do what you did last night,” Giles commended, seemingly huffing with pride that he had obviously contributed to this in some way.

Buffy turned her smile on him, nodding and chewing. Chewing and smiling. Smiling and nodding and thinking of Spike. Of how she had expected to wake up with him close, being in his arms... or him being in hers. Her smile turned self-conscious and a few degrees happier at that thought and she picked at the eggs with the fork before having another bite.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Dawn stated, giving her sister a quick hug and then exiting the room. Giles observed the Slayer for a short while, a frown occurring on his brow and then he smiled as she did.

“Quite,” he agreed with Dawn. “Quite right, yes. I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast,” he added, giving her a pat on the arm and she nodded. He stopped as he was on his way out, casually inquiring: “I’ve been imploring with you for weeks to put an end to it...”

“...and last night I had to listen,” she filled in a little too quickly for it to go by the Watcher unnoticed.

He raised his eyebrows, then continued out of the room and Buffy stripped her smile, putting the fork down and closing her eyes.

She was still in pain, though it was subsiding for every minute.

She couldn’t remember what had happened after she fell asleep again last night, or exactly how she had managed to block out the wooing of the First... but she had obviously succeeded. She had ended up feeling like a punching bag in the process, though the bruises seemed to be from the inside, but she was made of hard stone that wasn’t very easy to dent.

She moved her right hand over to her left and the smile was reborn as she slipped her fingers over the palm of the latter.

Spike.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe and she looked up. Angel smiled a little and she returned it.

“Don’t hover!” she said and he smirked, entering the room.

“You look...”

“...like my old self, yes,” she nodded and he chuckled, having a seat on the edge of the bed almost exactly where Spike had been sitting the night prior and she tried desperately not to wish that it could have been the blonde who was sitting there now as well.

“How do you feel?” Angel asked and Buffy’s smile widened reassuringly.

“Mended,” she then replied. “All fixed up and better, even.”

“You’re shining like the sun,” he commented, observing her for a moment and she struggled to hold back on the beaming feeling she had inside of her.

“I’m happy,” she shrugged and his observation turned probing. “What, can you blame me?! I feel like I’m back in control. Like I’ve figured some pretty important things out... Like I’m getting back on track.”

Angel gave her a half smile, averting his eyes and she furrowed her brow.

“Something the matter?” she asked and he shook his head, letting out another low chuckle as he got to his feet.

“No, nothing,” he answered. “Nothing at all,” he added and she looked up at him, at a loss to his behavior. “I’ll take these with me,” he said, grabbing the breakfast dishes and giving her another smile as he left the room.

As he walked out, Spike entered. Buffy’s heart went flip-flop in her chest and she drew a small breath to steady herself before she smiled brightly at him. He looked hesitant where he stopped at the foot of the bed and her smile faded slightly as she began to look questioning.

“You scared me last night,” he murmured and her smile immediately warmed.

“Sorry,” she said and he smiled a little as well.

What are you doing over there? she thought, pulling herself up and straightening the covers out to make the spot at her side more inviting.

“Giles said you’re ‘completely restored’... almost like you were broken,” he muttered and her smile widened.

“I just told Angel I feel mended,” she stated and Spike smirked at that.

“Mended, eh?” he wondered, his gaze in hers and she nodded slowly.

“Right as rain...” she mumbled, almost moving a hand and patting on the still vacant place next to her with one hand, but pressing the urge back. “Have you had breakfast?” she then asked, having no idea why she did.

“Yeah, I had my mug-full,” he nodded. “Sorry I didn’t stay last night,” he then added and she raised her eyebrows slightly. “I thought it best to get some sleep... It’s weird having to change the hours all the time, you know? With Angel we always sleep all day and then with you... or here – we best be sleeping at night...”

He trailed off, staring into her eyes and feeling small and insignificant in the scheme of things. Feeling as though he should have stayed, no matter what happened. He should have held her and kept whispering things in her ear so that she knew he was there; that he would always be there.

He took a step back.

“I’ll... Angel talked some ‘bout going to see an oracle... You up for it?”

She nodded.

“Just need to get dressed,” she said and his eyes went to the top she was in before they were back in hers.

She smiled a little at his self-consciousness and he smirked, shaking his head at himself.

“See you in a bit,” he said and then turned, leaving the room.

She sunk back, letting out the breath she had practically been holding and then grinding her teeth. It was like an invisible veil had fallen between them and there was only so much they could do to try and communicate through it. Or only so much she could do – since he seemed to be the one who conjured it.

“Why did you leave last night?” she murmured, looking at the now closed door.

¤¤¤

“This is one hot ride...” Spike said, appreciating, as he circled the big black BMW.

“Custom-made,” Willow nodded as she patted the shaded windows. “Giles managed to retrieve it from the Council’s offices... What was left of them, that is.”

“I’m driving,” Spike stated, holding his hand up and she rolled her eyes, then tossed him the keys.

“You scratch it and you die,” she warned and he smirked.

“I’d love to see you try and make good on that threat,” he replied dryly and she created a small ball of fire in the palm of her hand, which had his eyes widen. “Alright, alright, I get it! Enough with the theatrics!” he exclaimed and she smirked, blowing the fire out and then opening the door to the backseat.

Angel and Buffy entered the garage.

“Shot-gun!” Buffy yelled, rushing up to the left hand side of the car and opening the door there, having Angel grumbling take a seat in the back with the Wicca.

Buffy’s eyes turned to Spike’s as she fastened her seatbelt and she smiled, finding it this time to be trying as she was becoming increasingly insecure of how best to act around him. He seemed so on the edge, and yet there were moments that made her knees grow weak. When he’d look at her in a way he always had before he died... and even before he retrieved his soul. Now he returned her smile, shifting the gear as the electric garage door began to open.

“You get the honors,” Willow said, having gotten out a map which she handed to the Slayer.

“Groovy,” Buffy murmured, and as she noticed Spike’s widening smirk she smiled as well.

He pressed the gas pedal and they were on their way.

¤¤¤

“I’m telling you – you missed it!” Buffy nearly screamed and Spike growled.

“Listen to me – there-was-no-bleeding-exit-back-there!” he barked back and she nearly crumbled the map up and threw it at him. Again.

“Buffy!” Willow exclaimed when she noticed that the Slayer’s fingers were beginning to twitch.

“Look at this,” Buffy said, ignoring her friend and holding the map up for Spike to see.

“I would,” he replied. “Only – I’m driving!” he then added.

“You don’t have to shout, I’m not deaf!” Buffy retorted.

“I am,” Angel was heard in the back, raising one arm slightly.

Again with the ignoring.

“We were supposed to turn right two exits after the turnpike,” Buffy stated, jabbing her finger onto the spot of the map to which she was referring and Spike clenched his jaws together. “You missed it!”

“I’m not sure how to make this clearer,” he said tightly. “There was... no exit... back there. We have... not missed it... YET!” he finished and her eyes grew before she made the map into a ball and threw it with perfect aim to hit his forehead.

He glared at her and she stared at him and then they both started laughing. Buffy shook her head, looking up and then yelling:

“There it...!” Her eyes followed the exit they were supposed to take as they drove passed it and then she finished: “...was.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow.

“Who was right?”

“You just missed it!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, bother,” Willow muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window, hoping to concentrate herself into a state of momentary deafness.

¤¤¤

“Are you sure this is it?” Buffy asked as they stepped into a petite and perfectly kept garden, colorful leaves were a thick blanket on the path leading up to the front door of the charming little cottage. “Very sure,” Willow nodded.

She knocked on the door, waited for a moment and then opened it.

“She says she’s been expecting us,” Willow explained as the others looked at her in wonderment, having heard no reply from inside.

Buffy exchanged a glance with Spike and they both smirked a little at the eye contact with the other just as they entered a poorly lit hall.

Willow closed the door behind them and the light dimmed even further. To their right the wall opened up to a large living room, to their left was a sitting room. Before them was a small staircase disappearing to the second floor. It smelled fresh, clean and homely. The feeling of foreboding soon left all of them and Willow lead them through the living room and to the back room, which hosted only a table by which sat an elderly woman.

Her hair was white and reached to her waist, her smile was toothless and her eyes watery as she peered at them, but she gave them the sense of welcome and friendliness that the whole house seemed to induce. She gestured for them to sit, and as four chairs were already placed around the table they all did as she asked.

“I see a great bond between you all,” she began. “Horrid memories link you together in a way no ordinary mortal could get close to any of you... There is also much joy here... I see great love and devotion... Loss... Grief... And happiness,” she finished, focusing her gaze on Buffy who felt she was being scrutinized to her very soul.

Still she was not uncomfortable, but merely smiled a little at the oracle, who smiled back and gave a slight nod.

“Yes, a great deal of happiness and strength is here between you, and it will help keep your bond as powerful as ever... Please... join hands.”

Willow reached out with her left for the oracle and with her right for Angel, Angel took hers and Buffy’s in his right, Buffy took his and then glanced at Spike as she reached up and slid her fingers over his palm, placing her hand in his and having him meet her gaze for a moment.

“Oh,” the oracle gasped, having their attention back on her. “Oh... my,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I can see shadows rushing over sand... Danger, I sense it all around me. The wind is blowing grains of dust in my eyes and... There is no light. There is no light. Where...?”

Suddenly her eyes opened, colored red with blood.

“There are no lies,” she whispered, staring at the Slayer. “Only truth. Do not believe.”

Tears of red sprung from her eyes and then she sunk back on the chair – unconscious.

¤¤¤

“We put her to bed and made sure she was alright,” Buffy told Giles that evening as they were sitting together in the drawing room.

“And what of her foretelling?” he asked and Buffy sighed.

“You know how they are – riddles,” she replied. “I don’t know how to decipher any of it,” she grumbled.

“Jill called,” he said and Buffy looked at him, interestedly. “She said that the third sight is a negative,” he added and the Slayer’s stance lessened in hopefulness.

“Figures,” she murmured. “There are no lies... only truth,” she then mumbled and Giles frowned. “It’s what the oracle said. And she said that I shouldn’t believe... But in what? In the prophecy, in the dragon, in the war, in the First? Everything need answers, Giles! I don’t have any truths yet.”

He reached out a hand to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly.

¤¤¤

Spike entered the living room two evenings later, carrying a stack of papers in one hand and a mug in the other. As he was about to walk up to an armchair standing by the window, Buffy sat up where she had been laying on the couch and he halted, surprised.

Her presence was always so strong in the house that he never did know where she might actually turn out to be in person.

Now she smiled one of those small smiles again. There had been a lot of them over the passed few days. He returned it and when she pulled her legs to her to make room for him beside her he discarded the armchair and came up to the couch. Taking the proposed seat he put the papers down on the low table and took a sip of the coffee before putting that on the spindle table next to the armrest of the couch. Done with this he once more turned his gaze in the Slayer’s and she watched him for a moment before she asked:

“Whatcha drinkin’?”

He smiled a little again.

“Coffee,” he answered and she raised her eyebrows.

“Can I taste?” she asked and he smirked.

“It’s cold.”

“Why would you drink cold coffee?” she asked, incredulous, and his smirk broadened.

“It’s bitterer... I like it that way,” he then replied and she blinked, observing him again.

“You’re officially in the odd-cabinet,” she stated and he chuckled.

“Wasn’t I always?” he asked softly and she smiled as well.

“No,” she shook her head. “You just managed to make me wanna put myself there sometimes,” she added and he turned more serious at that, looking away from her and she bit the inside of her cheek in agitation with herself. “Not very often, though,” she tried to recover and the smile came back as he glanced at her.

“Liar,” he then murmured and she smirked.

“Like I didn’t drive you bonkers,” she retaliated.

He turned his head back to her, his eyes suddenly vulnerable and she swallowed.

“You know it wasn’t like that for me,” he mumbled and she was totally caught in his gaze, staring at him for the longest minute.

“Yeah,” she then said quietly, trailing off as she didn’t know how to proceed.

How is it now?! she wanted to scream. How is it now, how is it now?!

Her smile strained and then she looked at the papers, nudging them with one toe as she inquired:

“Whatcha readin’?”

“The reason we went to Paris,” he answered and interest was sparked in her gaze, telling him to tell her more.

He loved that expression on her and he wasn’t late to comply.

“We’ve been working on a case for a while now and we named it Crossfire ‘cause it deals with the Arderia order – you know who they are?”

“Those mercenary vampires that seem to be pretty much everywhere as of late? Yeah, I’ve had a few tête-à-tête’s with them,” she nodded and he smirked.

“Right. Like in Paris,” he said and she merely cocked an eyebrow in confirmation. “We’ve been working on trying to flush their leaders out, pin down the headquarters – things like that. We’ve had a few good leads, but they’re always two steps ahead and it’s buggering the hell out of us. They only appear when it’s absolutely dire... Well, we thought we’d get some answers in Paris, from the girl you saw, but of course, when we got to her apartment the Arderia had already gotten their paws on her.”

Buffy’s face saddened and she looked away, feeling guilty that she hadn’t been more attentive to how the girl had acted when she and Willow visited her.

“Yeah, we’ve been trying to track them for a while too,” Buffy then admonished silently. “They’ve managed to kill fifty slayers in four months,” she added and Spike nodded slowly; he was very aware of it. “It’s not so hard to face them if you’re not alone,” she continued, “but if you are...”

She trailed off and he could see that the subject got to her.

“A good friend was killed last month,” she finally murmured. “No blood, no body... but they left that damn note,” she added and Spike reached out a hand to touch her arm, then stopped himself, pulling it back and containing his empathy to rest in his gaze. “This is already a war,” she then said, her eyes in his.

“You’ve won the first battle,” he stated and she smiled a half smile, her countenance growing gentler as she nodded.

“I guess,” she agreed, thinking of how the nightmares had ceased.

She paused, looking at him as he reached over to grab the first few pages. As he pulled back he placed one arm on the back of the couch and her hand met his, making him fasten his gaze in hers once more. She slipped her fingers between his and then held on carefully as his fingers did the same, his eyes wondering.

“Thank you,” she said, voice soft, and he blinked. “For being there,” she added, suddenly growing very aware of the sense of his palm and the light brush of his thumb against the curve of hers.

He had no words to speak, merely nodded feebly, trying not to slide close to her and put his arms around her. Or just reach out as he had wanted to before and slide his hand through her locks, grace her cheek. He pulled his hand out of hers and stood, the papers still in his other hand.

She looked up at him, feeling a slow ache begin somewhere not far from her core. A numb throb that hurt something horrible. Why was he pulling away? She supposed there could only be one answer, couldn’t there?

“I’m starving! You starving?” he asked. “I’ll get us something to eat,” he added, leaving the room and having the Slayer’s eyes follow him on the way out with the pressure of one ton of questions resting in their depths.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Do I know you from somewhere

Why do you leave me wanting more

Why do all the things I say

Sound like the stupid things I’ve said

Before

Touch me

I’m trying to see inside of your soul

Put your hand on my skin

-Madonna, Skin-

¤

Lesson the Tenth

¤

It was Halloween and Buffy had just finished changing into a sleek, black dress. It was ankle long, low cut in the back and suited her fiercely well. She fastened a pair of diamond studs in each ear, letting her hair fall down freely over her shoulders and looking at herself for a moment before nodding approvingly.

She was hosting a party.

It had started without her, but she didn’t mind. Willow was a willing co- host and so everything was taken care of. Most certainly Dawn was down there as well, chatting all the young slayers up.

“And now for the entertainment,” the Slayer mumbled, walking out of her room and knocking on Angel’s door.

“In a minute!” he called.

“Take your time!” she yelled back, turning and walking down the hallway.

Raising her hand to knock she stopped her arm in midair and then smiled a little. She pulled down the zipper in the side of the dress. Moving her head to get her hair behind her shoulder she straightened her posture, drew a breath and twisted the knob. Walking inside she said:

“You know, I feel like a complete...”

“Hey!” he exclaimed and she caught the half-naked form of him tumbling behind the bed just before she shut her eyes tightly.

“Sorry,” she said, twirling around and holding back the giggles. “You okay?” she added.

“Feel like a bloody fool. ‘S nothing you haven’t seen before,” he muttered and she heard him rising, feeling a need to take him up on his words and act as though she didn’t think more of it either.

However – she did think more of it.

Clearing her throat she drew another breath, waiting for him to give her the all clear.

Spike stared at her back, at the curve of her hips, at the hinting of her thighs, at the smoothness of her shoulders and the tumbling locks of golden hair which spilled down them and he almost forgot why she wasn’t facing him.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked when there had been near absolute silence for a minute and a half.

“Choosing,” he replied, dragging his gaze from her and beginning to pull his clothes on. Buttoning his jeans he said: “There we go.”

She turned around, still smiling and meeting his eyes. He smirked back, grabbing a black tank top off the bed and she let her gaze greedily take in the tightening muscles of his chest and arms as he did so. As he faced her again her eyes were in his as though they had never left them. He pulled the piece of clothing on and she arched an eyebrow as she approached him.

“Black,” she said. “How original.”

“Look who’s talking,” he shot and she smiled. “What are you going as?” he added.

“Elegant hostess,” she stated and he smirked again. “Does it work?”

He observed her for such a long while, up and down and up again, looking truly thoughtful, that she finally giggled, giving him a push.

“It works,” he assured and she smiled widely. “You were saying something when you came in,” he added. “I think my head bumping into the sideboard cut you off.”

She laughed at that.

“No, no, it was the slight squeal you let out,” she stated and he gave her a look.

“I did not ‘squeal’,” he said and her smile widened. “Maybe just a bit,” he then added and she laughed again.

“You’re pretty cute when you’re embarrassed,” she smirked.

“You were saying something when you came in,” he repeated meaningfully and she nodded.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to remember what it had been and then her face lit up and she turned a little so that he could see the unzipped zipper in her side. “I was saying I feel like a complete idiot for teasing you about the whole bag incident when... I can’t seem to close this!”

He met her gaze and then let his fingers move to the dress, slipping down and searching for a hold on the zipper. It was all Buffy could do not to close her eyes and lean into his touch. Spike took a small step closer, her body heat now near enough for him to feel and Buffy glanced up at him, then away as she moved the arm blocking his view, putting it on his upper arm. He bit his lower lip, forcing his fingers not to fumble as they finally got the hold they needed and he began to pull the zipper up.

His nose was practically in her hair and the more his fingers moved up her side, the more her hand moved up to his shoulder. Her face turned to look up at him again just as the zipper was all the way up and he let one hand rest on her side as he held her gaze.

“There,” he mumbled, smiling a little before stepping away from her, turning and walking into the bathroom.

She nearly stumbled as the support of him was so suddenly taken away and she stared at the doorway of the room into which he had disappeared with growing aggravation. She obviously wasn’t attractive to him anymore, was she? She was practically throwing herself at his mercy here and what did he do?! She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself, and trampled up to the bed, having a seat and pulling the opened Crossfire dossier resting there to her. Flipping through a few pages she began to read, hoping to root out any further dwellings into yet another testimony to the fact that he no longer...

“So what’s the deal with the little honeys anyways?” he asked, coming back into the room and she looked up, wondering.

“Honeys?” she asked and he nodded, vamping out as he replied:

“All the little hot slayerettes you’ve put out to pasture downstairs. Just looking at them makes me wanna...”

The hard smack of the dossier being closed made him turn his gaze in hers again as she rose off the bed, wearing a sugar sweet smile. The surge of irritation she felt with him in that moment stemmed from numerous reasons, but the up front one was that that comment felt like a personal attack as she had minutes earlier been in the throws of trying to be utterly hot. Having him even talk of other girls – even as innocently as she deep down knew that he had meant it – made her blood boil with foolish jealousy.

“Wanna what?” she wondered, biting back the sting in her voice and he smirked.

“Growl,” he answered her as she stopped before him and she slapped his arm.

He wished he wasn’t such a bloody wanker! He didn’t know why he couldn’t make himself take her seriously, but he felt as though she was acting the way she was merely because of the fact that he was pulling away. No matter, the thought of him actually having just passed up the possibility of actually establishing... It was so strange, all he wanted might just be within his grasp – and now it was he who simply... couldn’t trust it. Shaking the thoughts off he said:

“They’re slayers. They’ve been slayers for over a year, why the hell would they be scared of one measly vampire?”

“Two,” she reminded, then added: “I’ve told you – your name carry a lot of weight around here. Killing two of us, being all fierce and... old.”

He gave her a look and she smiled.

“I’m gonna bloody get myself killed out there,” he muttered and she cocked an eyebrow.

“You should’ve thought of that before consenting,” she remarked and he huffed. “The deal is – we have new girls here every week. Blueberries with no trained skill. Sure, they have the strength, but they’re still only potentials until they suffer the guidance of Giles.” She smirked. “And me,” she added and Spike smiled as well. “Most of them haven’t been out alone patrolling yet, so don’t worry. You’ll just grab one of ‘em and pretend you’re about to bite and then we’ll see if you might have a few cracked ribs and a blooded nose before this is over,” she finished and he sighed.

“I should get paid,” he grumbled and she laughed at that.

“Come on,” she said, heading out the door and walking to knock on Angel’s.

It opened and when he noticed Spike having changed his appearance, he did the same. Buffy looked from one to the other, then nodded.

“Go get ‘em,” she said.

“Some might call you cruel,” Angel pointed out, but she merely gave him a push to follow Spike downstairs.

¤¤¤

The living room, den, kitchen and hall were lit only by candlelight. Decorations had been hung, and the party was coming along well. Everybody, in a variety of costumes, were having a good time and Willow was really pleased. She spotted Buffy and the two vamps slipping down the stairs and she headed into the hallway to cut the former off as the two others continued into the drawing room.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” the redhead asked her friend and Buffy nodded.

“Yeah! Why?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little... extreme? Throwing a party and then throwing those two into the midst of it?”

“It’s a Halloween party!” Buffy replied. “It’s supposed to be like this.”

“You’re testing them!” Willow exclaimed and Buffy hushed her.

“The Big Bad that’s coming, Wills – it’s not just that. It’s very big and very bad and if those girls out there are surprised by Spike and Angel, imagine how far they still have to go before they can defend themselves against the Ancients?”

“Boy, you’re really taking this to new levels, aren’t you?” Willow muttered sarcastically and Buffy gave her a look.

“I’m right, and you know it.”

“And to think that all this actually started with a perfectly normal phone call to a vampire I have yet to hear you...”

“Enough,” Buffy interrupted calmly, though her eyes were storming.

Willow smiled.

“Alright,” the Slayer admonished. “That’s how it started. But this is useful for them. Look at them in there, all relaxed. They’re not supposed to be that way. They’re supposed to be ready to fight in a moment’s notice.”

“God, Buffy,” Willow shook her head. “Way to go with having this party at a house where they should really feel the need to protect themselves. Especially from invited-into-said-house vamps. Maybe you should let them have a chance to screw up BEFORE you judge them.”

“What’s with you?” the Slayer inquired and Willow sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s just getting to me, I guess... Don’t mean to spoil the mood, but Giles just got a call from Fiona and... Jessie’s been killed... outside of Hong Kong last night.”

Buffy’s eyes grew, then she clenched her jaws together.

“All the more reason for me to train the ones in there, isn’t it?” she wondered flatly, walking passed the Wicca and into the living room.

Buffy mingled with the girls for a while before she gave the signal to the two vampires waiting to join the fun. The Slayer moved to the side in order to watch. The sliding doors of the drawing room unnoticeably slid open and Spike and Angel moved inside with stealth precision. Buffy looked at the faces of the slayerettes. No signals of sensing danger.

“Come on,” she murmured, and then a scream was heard.

She sighed.

“You come closer, cuteness, and I’m afraid her artery’s gonna feed me a well-earned supper,” Spike’s voice warned and Buffy took a step to the side in order to better see what was going on.

Spike had a hard hold on a young slayer, keeping her arms behind her back and her neck duly exposed to him as a diabolic smirk took its place on his mouth. Buffy knew it very well. This was his demon at its peak and she couldn’t help but have a small shudder run over her shoulders. If it was from bad memories, or the slight kick she got out of those very memories, she couldn’t tell.

The vampire had been talking to one of the other slayers, Mary, of not trying to free her friend. However, Buffy could feel how the hereditary power of her assembled kin was beginning to focus on the problem at hand. The Slayer nodded in approval.

“What should we do to them?” Angel’s voice rang out and he moved closer to Spike, letting one hand move up the captive slayer’s neck and Spike’s grin widened.

“No planning,” he said. “We’ll take ‘em one at a time. Let the feeling guide us.”

Angel smirked his affirmative and turned his yellow eyes in Buffy’s. She gave a nod and then stepped further into the room to have everybody more easily hear her as she said:

“How do you solve your problem? Do you let Tracy die? Do you tackle the two vamps one at a time, simultaneously? Do you divide yourself into teams and take them out, or is it better not to get in each other’s way? And most importantly – how do you decide when to call it quits? When half the house is demolished? All of it? When most of you are dead?”

Mumbling erupted from the crowd and Buffy hushed them all.

“Just tell me,” she said, looking around at them. “How do we save Tracy?”

“This is a test,” a girl named Lucy muttered to the Slayer’s left and Buffy turned her eyes in hers, nodding.

“It is,” she said. “And it’s one of the most important ones you’ll ever learn. How to deal with things when you least expect to. Now – tell me how we save Tracy, or I’m afraid Spike here is gonna have first dibs on that neck of hers.”

“We attack,” a girl spoke up. “If Tracy lives, she lives – if she doesn’t, then that’s a sacrifice we have to make for the group.”

“That’s awful!” another piped up. “If this is a test why don’t you just switch places with her and we’ll see how much you’d like to hear someone say something like that!”

“Yeah! Buffy, make her trade places!”

“Are you stupid or something?” Daria, a southern girl, asked. “Of course we have to attack. And if he’s threatening to kill Tracy, then so be it. If we just stand by and watch, he’ll kill her anyway – and then move onto us. First rule of engagement is – there are no rules, remember? He doesn’t know any and he doesn’t live by any.”

“That’s right,” Karen nodded. “He doesn’t care about anything but himself.”

“Oh, now, that’s unfair,” Spike chimed. “I could care a great deal about you, if you’d let me,” he added, stripping his vamp face and smiling charmingly.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him.

“Oldest trick in the book,” she said, both to the girls and to him. “Please,” she added and he smirked, vamping out again. “Look too long into his eyes, and he will catch you – sooner or later.”

“Didn’t know I had that kinda impact on you, love,” he couldn’t help but remark and she smiled.

“Spike, shut up,” she said.

“Nasty comeback,” he shot and she gave him a friendly glare.

“They are creatures designed to lure you, fascinate you, entangle you. We’re resilient, but only to some degree and when you reach that boiling point you’ll simply...”

“Pop?” Angel put in and she turned her head to him.

“Would anyone wearing anything resembling fangs right now please stop making insights or any kind of remarks?” she asked and a girl in the back spat out her false teeth as she was dressed as a vampiress. “Thank you,” Buffy said and the girl smiled a little. “Now, you say we should attack. From where? When?”

“It depends,” Kennedy said. “I mean, two of us could move in for Spike while two others – or more – tried to take down Angel. We really shouldn’t try to take them one-on-one ‘cause if they got in here without us knowing it they should be pretty damn good. But it’s impossible to strategize it, isn’t it? Like you said, here’s a perfect example of an unexpected battle – so, no plans.”

Buffy nodded.

“Good. More? When do you quit? Anyone? Tanya?”

A thin girl with a face filled with freckles and dressed in the garments of a mummy looked up with clear uncertainty. Watchfully looking around the room she then met Buffy’s eyes, which were encouraging, and so she replied:

“We don’t quit.”

“That’s right,” Buffy said, looking around at all of them again. “We. Don’t. Quit. Not ever. Not for anything or anyone. They wanna trash this home? Fine, we’re down with that. Just because we’ll make damn sure it’s the last thing they ever do. Tracy, I hope you’d live if it ever came to this. I hope all of us will live when it does – only you have to understand that there are always casualties in war... I don’t want you to think I wouldn’t have kicked Spike’s ass if he’d actually harmed you, though,” she finished, eyes in Tracy’s.

The girl smiled, nodding and glancing at the vamp still holding her. Buffy noticed it and gave Spike a gesture to set her free. He did and Tracy hurriedly took a few steps away from him.

“These are the entertainment and education for this evening,” Buffy announced with a gesture to the two vampires. “Two fourths of the infamous Scourge of Europe. They can tell you a thing or two about a lot of stuff, so ask, listen, and don’t be afraid.”

Both of the two stripped into human faces again.

“That’s right,” Spike said. “We’re about as dangerous as kittens.”

“Leave the kittens alone,” Buffy reprimanded and he smirked at her. “Now, let’s really get this party started!” she added and the music began playing out of the stereo, having everybody shout for joy and the Slayer smiled as she made her way up to the punch.

Dawn was there, handing her sister a plastic cup and they exchanged smiles.

“You having fun?!” Buffy yelled over the music and Dawn nodded.

“Hey,” the girl that had questioned Buffy so thoroughly on her love life a short while back said, taking the plastic cup Dawn reached out to her and facing Buffy; who looked quizzical. “I can see why you’d get in the sack with ‘em! They are razzle-dazzle hot!”

Buffy merely smiled, shaking her head at her fellow slayer as the girl moved through the crowd, headed for Spike. Buffy watched as the other – she now thought her name was Gabbi – stopped by the bleached blonde and struck up a conversation. He laughed at something and a painful stab of jealousy hit Buffy in the chest with full force.

She sipped her punch, trying to not care, but going back to how close they had been to kissing... until he stopped it. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just accept the fact that he obviously had moved on. She just couldn’t! Everything he had ever said to her kept repeating in her mind whenever she began to doubt how he had felt for her, and she knew that even though that feeling was somehow buried, or whatever the hell it was that was holding him back, she could spark it to life again. She could, if he’d just... let her. God, why wouldn’t he let her?!

She handed the emptied cup back to Dawn and decided to simply let it slide. Forcing herself to not look in the direction of the vampire and other slayer she began to once again mingle with the others. Most of them seemed fine with the little stunt she had pulled, but some of them complained about bad timing. She brushed them off in a friendly, but firm, way – saying that timing had nothing to do with it.

After an hour of practically avoiding Spike and anyone who was or had been in contact with him during the evening – as she wasn’t very keen on hearing all the details of how charming or funny or nice he was – she couldn’t stand it anymore. Opening the door to the terrace she slid outside, closing it behind her.