Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, cept ya know, the usual.


Dedications: Thanks to Fleisch, for volenteering as my beta reader, and to Trisha for the encouragment. Special thanks to Rashaka for the challange that inspired me to pick up the proverbial pen once again, and to Marrec for everything.

Authors Note: This is my first fic, pretty much. Song lyrics in later chapters include "Wild Horses" as preformed by Bush, and "Put Your Lights On" by Everlast




Part 1:


Buffy Summers awoke to find herself in the dark. Not the comforting, blanketing darkness one would sleep in, but the suffocating, terrifying blackness of nothingness. She scanned her eyes around, confused and disorented, seaching for some source of light. But she found nothing. Panic begin to set in, claustraphobia reminded her of waking up in her coffin, and instictivly she threw her hands out before her, punching hard. Her fear increased when her hands connected with wood, which splintered under her tiny fists. Oh God no, not again. She shrieked and kicked and clawed, dirt falling to fill her mouth and nose, choking her. She pulled herself upward and punched through the 6 feet of dirt above her....

And suddenly found herself standing in the graveyard. Confused, she simply stared for a moment, before she heard a high pitched giggle behind her. She spun to find herself face to face with Drusilla, who petted a dead dog held limp in her arms.
"Shh, little girl." Drusilla said, putting a finger to her lips. "The night sings for blood. The stars sway in the dance. He's not your puppy Slayer. He's mine to punish." The vampiress's eyes suddenly found a spot behind Buffy, and she tilted her head, grinning like the mad woman she is. "You've no eyes to see, my puppy, but you'll see much more. You've been a bad, bad dog."
Buffy turned again, and fell backwards in horror, looking up at Spike, covered in blood, and screaming silently in pain as red flames licked his form.
The world shifted around her again, and it was Faith who kneeled down behind her, draping an arm over her shoulder.
"Don't worry about it B. Little Miss Muffit's come to play."
Buffy turned around, and embraced the other Slayer, holding on to her for dear life.
"I don't understand." she whispered. "What does this mean?"
Faith petted Buffy's hair, and hugged her tightly back.
"You're job is going to get a lot easier. And a lot harder. We'll be seeing each other soon, B. The pain of the world will cost you, and death will lead you."

Buffy awoke for real this time, covered in sweat and shaking, a scream choking her throat. She pulled the sheets tighter around her, and reached over and flipped on the lamp, picking up the phone.
"Giles?" Her paniced voice asked when the line picked up moments later.
"I had a dream."

Part 2:

Spike leaned against the brick wall in the alley behind the Bronze, waiting for his Slayer to show up. She had told him the previous day that they would meet here for patrol that night, but she was a good 40 minutes late. He'd half a mind to...But he wouldn't. He knew it. He may have gotten his rocks back, as he'd said, but he was still her soddin' lap dog, whether he admitted as much to himself or not. He knew he should leave, and he wasn't talking about the Bronze. He should leave Sunnyhell, and never look back. That would show her how 'convenient' he was. He'd planned it out a million times in his head, even packed once or twice, but he never went through with it. He would worry about her too much. And the Bit would be crushed. He would never leave his girls. Not even if they wanted him too.


He sighed and drew out a cigarette, lighting it and taking an angry drag. He listened to the strains of music flowing through the open back door of the Bronze, thinking (not brooding, never brooding!) about his Slayer. For the past week, ever since their illicit encounter in a crumbling building, she had been cold. Pretending as if it never even happened. When he mentioned it, she would either ignore him or storm off in a huff, so he had tried to push it out of his mind as well. But he hadn't succeeded.

Childhood living...
So easy to do...
Things that you wanted...
I bought them for you...
Graceless lady...
You know who I am...
You know I can't let you...
Slide through my hand...


He chuckled to himself at the words of the song echoing through the establishment behind him. He connected with it, of course, being the bleedin' ponce he had become. He knew he needed to do something, and soon, or she would slide from his hands. And he would never be able to reach her again.

Wild horses...
Couldn't drag me away...

And I watch you suffer...
A dull aching pain...
And you've decided...
To show me the same...


Damn right she decided to show him the same. He was addicted to her now, one taste and he was truly her slave. He angrily tossed the spent cigarette away from him and closed his eyes, listening to the rest of the song.

Wild horses...
Couldn't drag me away...
Wild, wild, wild horses....
Couldn't drag me away...

And I know I dreamed you...
A sin and a lie....
Well, I have my freedom...
Oh, but I don't have much time....
And faith has been broken....
Tears must be cried...
Lest' you stop living....
And after we die...

Wild horses...
Couldn't drag me away...
Wild, wild, wild horses...
We will ride them someday...


Finally, he thought, as his nerves tingled, signaling the approach of the Slayer. He opened his eyes and looked at her, tilting his head slightly. She looked like hell. Frazzled was the only word for it, frightened maybe. He knew instantly that something was wrong, and pushed away from the wall.


"What's wrong, luv?" he asked softly, staring into her eyes.


She blinked, and looked up at him, watching him for what seemed like ages before she spoke, barely above a whisper.


"Rough night. I'm fine." she turned, expecting him to follow, and headed out for patrol.


He sighed and fell into step behind her, watching as she wrapped her arms around herself, something she only did when she was very worried about something she had no control over.


"Buffy? Luv? Talk to me."


She stopped suddenly, causing him to nearly walk into her, and whirled around to face him.


"It's nothing, alright?! I had a Slayer-type dream. You know, the kind that has a tendency to come true. Freaked me out."


His brow furrowed a little.


"What was the dream about, pet?" he asked.


She sighed and turned away, hugging herself more tightly.

"I don't know. That's why I called Giles.... He's on his way.

Something to do with Drusilla, and Faith, and you...." she trailed off.


He blinked. Dru? Coming back? Not good.


"What about me?" he pressed, knowing a bit more about dreams and imagery than the average vamp, considering who his sire was.


"You...were hurt," she said. "Didn't tell me much."


Again, a blink. But he sensed that she was holding back on him.


"Well, luv, if the dream was about me, then I think you should tell me everythin' 'bout it. I have a right ta know what nasties will be comin' my way."



She shook her head swiftly, not meeting his eyes.


"I don't want to talk about it, alright? I'll tell you and everyone else when Giles gets here.... I don't want to tell it more than once." she paused, and looked at him. "Just...watch your back, alright? I'm tired. Can you handle patrol?"


He was stunned. Was she worried about him? Not likely. But before he could answer, she turned and stalked off.


"Thanks," she called over her back, and then she was gone.


He sighed and shook his head, lighting another cigarette.


"Bloody hell...."

///

He was tired. He knew he shouldn't have patrolled for her, but he did, and he was sore and achy from a fight with a demon of unknown origin. It felt good, pummeling the life out of it, but now all he wanted to do was collapse into his bed and sleep the coming day away.


He shed his duster when he entered his crypt, pulling off his shirt on the way to the fridge. He was halfway across the room when his tired senses finally picked up on something. He wasn't alone. He froze in his tracks, his eyes shifting about the room, trying to pick up on whatever it was's location. He scented the air, picking up something disturbingly familiar when suddenly, he was struck hard from behind, with something heavy and iron. He fell forward on his hands and knees, stunned by the power behind the blow. When he looked up, his foggy vision found Drusilla standing before him, a crowbar clutched like a baseball bat in her pale hands.


"Mummy's come to show you what it means to be a good dog..." she whispered, and then swung hard for his face, knocking him into blackness.


The first thing he noticed when he swam back to consciousness was that he was floating. His feet weren't on the ground. Then his head cleared a little more. Right. Chains. His wrists were cuffed, high above his head. And from the way his shoulders ached, he had probably been hanging there a good long while. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he somehow couldn't. Next, he tried his mouth. Same thing. So he contented himself with growling, mumbling curses around his closed lips.


"Oooooohhh...." Dru's child like voice sang. "Wakey, wakey, Mummy wants to play."


He, of course, just hung there. Little else he could do at this point, aside from growling.


"Things are coming, my Spike. To punish us all." He felt her move closer. "But you're mine to punish, Spike." She drew something long and sharp down his bare chest, and he hissed. "Mine. Thrice we'll be burned. We've been bad puppies and the stars don't like it." Again, she cut him, deeper, and dug into the wound with her fingers, prying. He choked and bit back a scream.


"But you don't see it," she whined, continuing her 'play'. "No one does. No one hears the songs. The cries for blood. Our blood, Spike." She stabbed him through the stomach.


He moaned and strained his arms, testing the chains again. Snug.


"The walls are crumbling. I don't like it. I won't be punished. But you will be. You're mine to punish..." He knew she'd soon break out the holy water. Knives didn't entertain her for very long. Yep, he thought as he felt the splash and the burn. Just like old times.

He screeched as well as he could, not being able to open his mouth. Of course it just egged her own.

"But you never listen, Spike..." he felt something long, thin, and hard slide into his ear, seconds before she stabbed his right eardrum. Again he tried to cry out, but to no avail. The pain was horrible, burning through his head like fire. He felt the coldness slide into his other ear.

"You never listen...." And that was the last thing he heard.

Buffy stepped into her room and closed the door. It was still early, but she hadn't lied when she said she was tired. She was emotionally exhausted. She sighed and crossed the room, falling onto her bed fully clothed. Something was eating at her, digging deep into the pit of her stomach. It felt a lot like her Slayer sense telling her something was horribly wrong. But she had checked the house three times, called Dawn at Tara's, called Xander and Anya. Willow was asleep, still recovering from her magic addictions. Giles was on his way to Sunnydale from England. Everyone was fine.


She got up and paced angrily, definitely not able to sleep in this state, racking her brain for anything she might have forgotten. She figured it might be guilt, at handing her patrol over to Spike, but she needed a break. And he could totally handle himself, she knew that. He had nearly killed her himself many times, before the Initiative de-fanged him. Now that he couldn't hurt a living creature (except her...), or, anything less than demonic, he had helped her and the Scoobies fight the forces of darkness, albeit sometimes grudgingly, and until recently only for money. He had even saved her life, once or twice. The thought of that still amazed her. Spike, soulless vampire, the 'Big Bad,' William the Bloody, the scourge of Europe, and personal killer of not one, but two Slayers before her, had saved her life. And was in love with her.


And of course, thinking about Spike, her thoughts turned to...that night. The mere thought of his cool hands...Not going there. Not again. It was over. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. It was sick, and wrong. She was the Slayer, he was a disgusting, evil thing. Not even a person.


She sighed and opened her door with a little more force than she intended. She might as well go see how patrol went. If anything particularly scary had surfaced. She was NOT going because she couldn't stop thinking about him, NOT going because she craved his touch, his lips on hers.


"All business. Nothing else." she told herself as she stomped out the door.


///


It wasn't a long walk to the cemetery where Spike resided. The whole way there, her disturbing feeling that something was wrong only grew. It had her jumping at shadows, stake in hand. Her uneasiness grew at the lack of vampires hanging around, only having dusted two on her way over. She heard sounds coming from inside his crypt, and figured he was still up, which made sense since it was just after two a.m., midday for him.


She shoved the door open and stormed in.


"Spike..." she trailed off, eyes widening at the horror that was before her.


Spike dangled above the ground, thick chains holding his wrists to the ceiling. His bare toes brushed the blood soaked floor beneath him. He was unconscious, which looked a lot like dead in his case, though she knew he wasn't since he was still non-dusty. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes running over his bare chest, a mass of welts, cuts and burns. She stumbled back against the door, hyperventilating for a moment, suppressing the urge to vomit, before fear became rage at whoever or whatever had done this to HER vampire. She whipped out her stake.


"Miss Edith said we'd be having guests." Drusilla lilted as she stepped from the shadows. In her hands was a champagne glass, filled with clear fluid.


Buffy froze.


"My William and I had a party, Slayer." She tilted her head and swayed for a moment. "But he doesn't like the wine." She pouted like a child. "He fell asleep, and now Mummy has to go."


Buffy gritted her teeth to keep herself from attacking the vampiress in outright rage. Drusilla suddenly turned serious.


"I've no mind for things to come. Miss Edith cries every night, I had to put her to sleep too." Her eyes shone. "The fire comes, child of light. It will burn us all. I'd rather sleep."


Buffy's eyes widened again as Drusilla brought the glass to her lips and drank it all in one gulp. And then vanished in a swirl of dust without so much as a scream.


She stood in shock, staring at the pile of dust that was formerly Spike's sire. Her stake clattered to the floor. Numbly, she turned again to Spike, looking him over for a way to get him down without hurting him further. As she got closer, she saw to her horror that his lips and eyes had been sewn shut.


It took all she had not to vomit again. Trickles of blood ran from his ears as well, and she could only guess that his hearing had been taken too.


She shook her head and backed away, hitting the stone wall of the crypt and sliding down. This was her fault. She should have gone with him. Her fault. She had enough presence of mind to touch the ring on her hand that Willow had long ago enchanted, and spoke the word that would bring her friend here.


///


Willow awoke from a dead sleep, shaking as the locator spell went off. Cursing, she picked up the phone and dialed.


"Xander? Emergency, meet me at Spike's crypt."


///


Willow had never run so fast in her life. She could have gotten there much quicker with a spell, but she didn't know the severity of the situation, and didn't want to test her new magic-free lifestyle. She was breathless by the time she met up with Xander and Anya, still blinking sleep from their eyes, at the door to the crypt.


"What happened? Why the bat signal?" Xander asked, a little out of breath himself.


"Yes, why? I am missing cuddlies." Anya pouted.


"Remember when I gave Buffy that locator ring? It just went off. And here. Did you bring weapons?" Willow said.


"Yeah, of course, I'm not running off into 'emergency' unarmed." Xander produced a stake, as did Anya.


Willow hoped that would be enough. A spell on her lips anyway, she held back as Xander pushed open the door.


"Oh god." he whispered.


Willow panicked and pushed past him, greeted by the sight of the bloody and unconscious Spike, still hanging in the middle of the room.


She brought a hand to her mouth and looked around, seeing one pile of dust, and breathing a sigh of relief when she saw Buffy curled against the wall.


Even Anya paled when she stepped into the room, but also hurried to Buffy's side. Xander shut the door behind them, and examined Spike with wide eyes.


"Buffy, what happened?" Willow asked gently, pushing the hair back from her best friend's face.


"Drusilla...and she..." Buffy choked out between sobs. She looked up at her friends' worried faces, and closed her eyes, trying to gain control of her raging emotions. Finally, she calmed. Her sobs subsided, and she was able to speak.


"Drusilla...she said she needed to punish him...And that she didn't want to burn...And then she dusted herself. I got here too late...." she finished, forcing back another sob and climbing to her feet.


Willow shook her head, unbelieving. Drusilla dusted herself? Well, she was insane. She helped Buffy up and the three girls turned around.


Xander was already trying to get Spike down. He gave up on pulling on the chains and finally went to the vampire's weapons trunk, pulling out a large axe.


"Be careful...He's really hurt...." Willow said, with compassion she didn't know she had for the blond.


Xander nodded and gritted his teeth. He dragged a chair over, and stood on it, aiming for where the chains were attached to the ceiling.


"Alright, Evil Undead...Brace yourself," he said, and then swung.


Three swings later, the chains snapped and Spike fell to the floor, hard. It must have awakened him, because he whimpered and rolled over. Xander dropped to the ground and bent to help the vampire up, but as soon as he touched him, Spike winced and kicked out with both legs at Xander, the blow causing the blond more pain as his chip went off. He whimpered again, his still chained hands twitching to grab his head.


Xander rubbed his chest, and looked up at the girls.


"How are we going to help him if he won't let us?" he asked, eyeing the stitches in the vampire's eyes and mouth.


"He probably knows now that the chip went off. Try again!" Anya supplied encouragingly. Buffy hung back, hugging herself, and Willow stepped forward to help, giving the Slayer an odd look.


Xander shrugged, and reached out to touch Spike again. This time the vampire was still, only wincing away, not thrashing out.


"See? Told ya," Anya said, proud of herself.


Buffy finally spoke.


"We need to get him out of here. Did you bring your car, Xander?"


He nodded, wondering how they would get Spike in the car without hurting him further. Followed by wondering why he cared if Spike was hurt.


"Alright..." the Slayer continued in her take charge voice. "Let's just do this quick, and get him to my house." She walked over to where Spike lay, and, frowning at what she was forced to do, she knelt and slammed her fist into his face with all her slayer strength.


The vampire grunted, and then his head lolled to the side. He was unconscious again. Good.


She signaled to Xander, and they lifted him between them, and carried him to the car.


///


It was Xander who had finally had the courage to remove the stitches from Spike's eyes and mouth. Still looking a little green from the work, he and Anya left the slayer and Willow to attend to the vampire.


Buffy sighed, taping bandages on the burns and slashes on Spike's chest. She couldn't do anything about his ears, or his eyes for that matter, but she could help with this. She was thankful that he remained unconscious.


Willow watched her work, frowning. She'd noticed how tender Buffy was with the vampire. She saw how familiar she was towards his body. But she didn't say anything. If her friend wanted to tell her anything, she would.


When she was satisfied that he would be comfortable when he woke, she checked the curtains in her room, making sure the sunlight couldn't get in, and left the wounded vampire sleeping in her bed.

Spike dreamed. Actually dreamed, not the fantasies of blood and gore and Buffy that ran through his thoughts while he slept, but an actual dream. No, strike that. This wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.


He was standing in total blackness. Confused. It felt so real. But he knew it couldn't be. Could it? The last thing he remembered was waking up after hitting the floor of his crypt. And the warm scent of humans. His humans. So this wasn't right.


He turned around, frowning, not used to not being able to see in the dark, and the thought down right unnerved him. That's when the sound started. It started with such abruptness that he jumped, spinning to face his new foe. But only blackness mocked him. The sound became whispering, surrounding him, taunting, teasing. The blackness took form. The form of every creature he had ever met or sunk his fangs into. Every being he had caused pain or had cause pain to him. They attacked in whirls, ripping him, slashing him, crushing him.


And then it stopped. He fell back onto the ground, panting, looking himself over for wounds that no longer existed. For the first time since, well, since Glory he was afraid. Truly afraid.


He screamed when the whispering started again....


///


He didn't know how long it was until he finally woke up. Really waking. He licked his lips, and opened his eyes, frowning as his vision came to him in a disturbing blur. He furrowed his brow, and looked around as best he could, greeted with only colour. Unfamiliar colour. Not his crypt. He closed his eyes and scented the air, catching the hints of vanilla and power. Slayer. Her bed? No. Couldn't be. She would never...


"Buffy?" he finally managed to call out, jumping in surprise when he failed to hear his own voice. What's that all about? he thought, before he remembered. Dru. Groaning, more than surprised not to hear it, he flopped back down onto the bed, cursing inaudibly at the pain the movement caused.


Something moving and colourful suddenly appeared in his field of vision. He jumped again, followed by a long string of curses at being so easily startled. He stared hard at this movement, this creature, tilting his head. He couldn't recognize anything. He reached out a hand slowly, and felt his fingers come into contact with warm flesh. He trailed his touch across this flesh, feeling lips, nose, eyes, silky hair. He scented the air again. Buffy.


"Buffy," he said aloud, or thought he did. It was what he imagined himself saying, anyway. He let his arm drop, suddenly so tired. He slipped back into the darkness.


///


This time he woke slowly. That damned dream had come again, once, twice? He couldn't recall. But it had come again, and that pissed him off royally. His anger faded when he opened his eyes, this time ready for the dizzying swirl of colours...but found that his vision had improved. He could make out a few things, no sharp lines, just fuzzy ones, but damned if he could see the mirror hanging over the Slayer's dresser and tell that it was a mirror. He smiled to himself.


"Spike?" came a voice, as if through a fog, sounding very far away. He wondered for a moment if he had actually heard it.


"Slayer?" he replied, hearing his own voice the same way.


The bed shifted slightly, and she came into view, smiling.


"You look like hell," she said, with a twist of grin.


He chuckled, frowning. He felt like hell, but not as bad as he had before. Dull and achy, really, not sharp pain. Like most of his senses at the moment. Dulled.


"Hungry." was all he said next, even though the word surprised him. He hadn't even thought about it till it crossed his lips. Bloodlust, now that he had found it, wasn't letting go. It felt as if he hadn't eaten in days. His demon raged, screaming for him to take the morsel set before him. Even if he wanted to (which he didn't), he knew that the Slayer would win that round in seconds considering his weakened condition.


"You should be. Sleeping for two days straight will do that to you." Buffy said, as she left the room.


It wasn't long, really, before she came back, a freshly heated mug of blood in her hands, complete with straw. The sight brought memories surging back, of her feeding him while he was chained in the Watcher's bleedin' bathtub. Teasing him with her bared throat. Red's spell.... That was back when he had come to them, his enemies, half-starved after escaping the soldier boys, come to them for help. And lo and behold, they had taken him in. Surprised the hell out of him, really.


"Here, drink up, and we'll see if you can come downstairs. Dawn is really anxious to see that you're alright." Buffy said, playing the careful nursemaid. She cupped the back of his head carefully, and helped him sit up. He kept his eyes on her while he drank the blood, struggling with the demon, keeping his face human.


He did feel stronger after it, and was able to stand. She helped him downstairs, and into one of the chairs in her living room. She disappeared into the kitchen, and began to talk to someone. Normally, he could have heard what she was saying, but fog still clouded his hearing.


She returned with another mug of blood, followed closely by Willow and Dawn.


"Spike!" Dawn veritably screamed and broke from the other two, looking, to his dismay, like she was going to pounce on him, but she stopped and settled with a gentle hug instead.


"They wouldn't let me see you. And they wouldn't tell me what happened!" the Key turned 15 year-old girl squeaked. "Are you alright?"


He gave her a small smile and patted her hair, nodding.


"Fine, Nibblet. Big Bad here, 'member? 'Sides, Sis over there took care o' me." Buffy handed him the mug, which he drank greedily.


"More?" she asked quietly, so that he barely even heard it.


"Please." he replied, handing the mug back. She disappeared again.


Willow came over and stared down at him, tilting her head slightly. Dawn latched onto his arm and glared at the witch, still brassed off at the events that resulted in the purple cast covering her arm.


"Red?" he asked carefully, not liking the way she was staring at him.


Willow blushed.


"Oh, I...just wanted to see how much better you were. We-We did a spell, a necessary one, to speed up the healing process. Giles helped..." she trailed off. Discussing magic with Dawn around was still uncomfortable for her.


"Well...thanks...an' all...." he said, looking past her, finally noticing the older Brit standing in the doorway, well, watching.


"Watcher," he said in greeting, nodding his head slightly. He respected the man, more than he would ever let on. Strong enough to stand hours of torture at the hands of Angelus, brave enough to let William the Bloody sleep on his couch and eat his Weetabix, not to mention being the sole father figure for the Slayer.


"Spike," Giles said pleasantly, giving him the 'You're going to tell me everything that happened' look.


Just then, Xander and Anya entered through the front door. Apparently, there was a meeting planned. The ex-demon smiled happily and waved at him, clutching Xander's arm. The whelp just gave a nod in greeting before he spoke.


"Evil Undead....You're looking...good..." he said.


"He's lying." Anya cut in. "You look like hell. You're all bruised and icky."


"So I've been told." Spike replied in a low voice.


Buffy finally returned with another mug. This one he sipped, and remained quiet. Buffy actually sat on the arm of his chair, and brushed away an errant strand of hair from his face, earning incredulous looks from the others that she didn't seem to notice. And the meeting started.


"Well. I'm sure you all know that some strange things have been going on. Buffy's dream's not being the worst of it." Giles started, removing his glasses and cleaning them. Bad sign.


"From what I've been able to gather, events are coming together that are linked to writing in an ancient text, long thought lost. It happens to be part of my personal collection."


He paused, replacing his glasses and looking at the group.


"It seems we've an apocalypse to advert."


"Again?!" Xander, Anya and Willow moaned. Spike had been thinking the same thing.


"Bloody hell..." he muttered, sipping on his blood.

Part 5:

Buffy sighed, and listened as Giles explained it again. He had come upon the book while packing for his trip from England, and had found some interesting references to both Buffy's dream and what Drusilla had said to her and Spike.


"From what I could gather, what Drusilla meant by being 'punished' is this Cleansing that is mentioned. It's incredibly vague, but it seems to have to do with vampires as a populace. And that the Cleansing is a harbinger for events that lead to the end of the world. There will be a testing period...." He removed his glasses, and sighed. "But it makes no mention of what will be tested, or who. Only that the Cleansing will bring the Darkness. And only the strong will survive."


There was a long drawn-out silence. No one wanted to ask questions that they had no answers to. Buffy was the first to speak up.


"But in my dream, Faith told me that my job would get a lot easier, and a lot harder. How could fighting the end of the world be easy in any way?"


Giles shook his head, looking like he really needed a drink.


"I don't know, Buffy. Perhaps you should call Angel and have him speak to Faith about this. You said that she also mentioned you would be seeing her soon. If it does come down to the end of the world, we could very well be in need of her help."


Xander and Willow didn't look at all comfortable with that idea.


Buffy noticed that Spike was oddly silent through the whole thing.


The meeting finished, and everyone began to file out. Giles lingered, telling everyone he would have more answers in the morning.


As Buffy saw the rest out, and Willow ascended the stairs, Giles was watching Spike.


"How do you feel about all of this?" he asked the blond vampire.


Spike looked up, staring at him for a moment. Apparently, his vision was still giving him trouble, as it seemed he had a hard time focusing on the watcher.


" 'Bout what? The fact I'm gonna be bloody cleansed or what not? Rather not think 'bout it thank you."


Giles nodded in understanding, and smiled at his Slayer as she returned to the room.


"I uh, found something, while I was in England...." he said, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Another watcher had it for years, apparently, saying he never really put it to the test...."


Buffy watched him curiously as he opened the box and revealed a tiny silver earring, crafted in hoop fashion. He handed it to her, but looked at Spike.


"My friend said that he was told the earring allows a vampire to see himself. Now, that could either mean reflection or something more sinister, but, you being the only vampire I really know..."


"You decided I'd make a good experiment?" Spike finished.


"No, I simply believed that you would want to be able to see yourself after all these years."


The look on Spike's face said he was definitely intrigued. He got to his feet weakly, wincing slightly.


"Right then. What's the deal with it?"


"The only catch is that it has to be willingly put on by a human. Thus the reason most vampires wouldn't fancy having it."


Buffy shrugged, and stepped over to Spike. She positioned him in front of the mirror, still not getting over how eerie it was to be alone in its surface. She shook her head, and looked back to Spike, and snapped the earring in place.


Spike nearly jumped back three feet when he suddenly appeared in the mirror. His eyes wide, he stared, awed at his own reflection. He had really forgotten what he looked like. Even down to the colour of his eyes. Which he liked. He laughed, putting his hands on the sides of his face, then touching the mirror. Buffy watched, amused, unable to stop herself from thinking how adorable it was that he was so amazed.


Spike himself was silent for a good long while, tilting his head this way and that, studying himself Giles and Buffy watched. He couldn't wait to see what he looked like without the swollen lips and eyes, and various discoloured bruises.


Taking a step back, he grinned at Buffy.


"You're right. I do look like hell."

Part 6:

Somewhere between Sunnydale and Los Angeles -Three days later.



Angel drove as carefully as he could, pushing 80, and worried as hell. Cordelia sat beside him, still looking pale from the vision that had sent them packing. Wesley muttered to himself in the backseat, reading through various books by the interior light.


Cordelia moaned and watched as the scenery whizzed by, feeling slightly sick. She had never had a vision about the end of the world, and it seemed, they were a hell of a lot more painful than the normal, mind-splitting kind. She knew they were killing her. But from what the vision had told her, none of them had time enough to worry about that.


"So, you're sure that Buffy will know what is going on?" she weakly asked Angel.


His knuckles white on the steering wheel, he replied through gritted teeth.


"Yes. You said that the vision centered around her. Explain it again."


The brunette moaned once more. For the third time, she started from the beginning.


"The vision hit, all mind pounding and such. I saw Buffy, surrounded by vampires crumbling to dust. I saw Drusilla, and then she was gone. I saw Spike." She winced as Angel growled, and pressed the accelerator down a little further. Quickly, she continued. "I saw you, hurting, I don't know why. Then I saw the world consumed in flames. And no, I can't explain further, I only know that you can't see Buffy or the others till the time is right. Again, I don't know why, or when, but I guess, I'll get another vision." she sighed, and flopped back into the seat.


Angel sighed as well.


"How am I supposed to help if I can't talk to them? What am I supposed to do, stalk them? Or..." he trailed off suddenly, his eyes widening.


Cordelia looked over at him, annoyed. Until she saw the look on his face.


"Angel? What's wrong?"


The vampire doubled over the steering wheel, gasping for unneeded air. He managed to hit the brakes, sending the car skidding to a halt, right in the center of the highway. Wesley, who hadn't been paying attention, looked up just as Angel fell out of the car. Cordelia ripped her door open and ran around to Angel's side, kneeling.


"Angel? ANGEL!" she screamed, panicking, watching as Angel writhed in pain, his eyes unfocused.


"What happened?" Wesley asked, climbing out.


"I don't know. We have to get him somewhere safe. Help me get him into the car!" Wesley nodded and they both hurried to shove the crippled vampire in the back seat.


///


Sunnydale



"So, you're sure you're healed enough to patrol?" Buffy asked, looking over her shoulder at her pretty much constant vampire companion.


"Of course." Spike replied, striding a little faster to catch up. "Wouldn't be traipsin' 'round with you if I wasn't up for the fightin', luv."


She chuckled, and shook her head. He did LOOK better. The bruises were pretty much gone; he said his eyes and hearing were almost like new.


She sighed as three vampires jumped out from hiding, circling the two.


"What do you think, Spike? Can we take 'em all in three seconds?"


It was Spike's turn to chuckle.


"Sure, luv," he said, pulling out his own stake. And the fight was on.


Buffy was thrilled. The vamp population had been sparse lately, leaving her nothing to kill. She was so ready for this, and flew into battle, staking one of the vampires before it even had time to register what it was it had attacked. Spike was doing well against the other two, trading blow for blow.


Suddenly, it seemed as if the texture of the air had changed. Spike and the other two vampires froze. The fledglings took off running. They got three steps before they both fell to their knees, screaming. And then they dissolved into dust.


Buffy furrowed her brow.


"What the hell?" she asked, turning around.


Spike was on his knees, his eyes wide. "Oh, god." he breathed, holding his sides. Buffy was suddenly consumed by the fear that he was about to be dust as well. She dropped her stake and ran to his side, grabbing him by the shoulders.


"Spike?! Spike!" She couldn't lose him. Not now. Not when she was beginning to realize how much he really meant to her.


Spike didn't seem to hear her. He would have fallen over on his side if not for the fact that Buffy's arms were around him. His entire body shook, every muscle clenched.


She nearly broke down when he screamed, thrashing his arms and legs, as if fighting off a mob. She watched in horror as bruises emerged on his face anew, and then faded away. The scar on his eyebrow split open, splashing his face with blood. Then it closed, and the blood vanished.


He managed to throw her off of him, and he fell onto his back, his hands clawing at the grass. The noises he made were of pure agony, choking in his throat. His demon emerged for a moment, before the pain caused it to retreat again. His back arched, as if something was pulling his chest upwards, and then he collapsed, babbling, relaxing slightly.


"Only the strong...Only the strong..." he muttered, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Buffy quickly pulled him to his feet.


"Come on Spike, stay with me," she commanded, fear clutching at her heart. He continued to mumble, his eyes half closed, and barely put forth effort into walking as Buffy half dragged him toward her house. Giles. Giles would know what to do.


///


Buffy slammed open the front door, staggering in with her half-conscious burden. Giles and Dawn looked up from the couch.


"What happened?" Giles said, rising.


"Dawn, go to your room, NOW!" Buffy said, in a tone that warranted no argument.


Dawn, nearly in tears, did as she was told.


It had happened again on the way home. His whole body had tensed and she was forced to let him go, only able to watch through the tears as he thrashed and screamed. The second time it was worse. She knew there would be a third. Drusilla said three times.


"I think this cleansing thing has started..." she said, and was cut off when Spike keened, and stumbled out of her arms, hitting the floor hard.


"Oh God, Giles! What do I do? Oh god..." she watched, panicking all over again. He had survived it twice. He would survive the last time. She hoped.


Giles too, watched in horror, as it seemed every wound ever inflicted on the vampire opened again. He screamed, thrashing. Buffy tried to hold him down, but once again she was thrown away, and only able to watch, helpless.


Giles pulled her into his arms, and she sobbed on his chest, unable to bear her lover's pain. When she finally had control of herself, she settled down next to Spike, and watched as the fit came to an end.


Smoke rose from his chest, causing the fear to tighten in her throat again. This time, when Spike's back arched, his eyes flew open, not in pain, or terror, but in awe. Then he clenched them shut, and fell back down, gasping. Shuddering all over, he rolled onto his side, whimpering, and began to sob.

Part 7:

Spike burned. That's the only thing that he could think of, as he was
cleansed. Burning. The agony had ripped through him, and he fought it
tooth and nail. He forgot about his life, his death, his Slayer, the world.
He only knew the pain.

Then there had come that brief moment when he understood. Everything.
Life, death, what comes after. He knew it all. But the world came crashing
back as it ended, leaving him broken, clinging to that truth that slowly
slipped away as awareness settled in.

He had rolled over onto his side and started to cry. The remembrance of
the pain had left his muscles twitching and sore. All he wanted to do was
sleep, for a good week or two. But he knew that he couldn't.

He got control of himself and rolled back over, staring up at the ceiling,
trying to force away the lingering pain.

"Spike?" Buffy's timid voice came through to him. It sounded as if she
had been crying.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words that came out weren't the ones
he had planned on speaking.

"The child of light, cloaked in red..." he began, then frowned. He didn't
notice Giles scrambling for a notebook and pen behind him. He took an
unneeded breath and tried again. "With hands for death and eyes unread..."
Now Spike was really confused.

Finally, he just gave up. Whatever he was saying obviously needed to be
said. So he continued.

"Shall give the gift and buy it back....And give her soul for one who
lacks. When the water turns and the new blood burns, the wall from night
and day will raze, and the bridge that rises in its place, shall be
consecrated in blue and black and crimson, and the first soulmates shall be
born, at the price of the world."

Giles finished writing, capping the pen and looking to the dumbstruck
Slayer.

"Spike? Is there more?" the watcher asked.

Spike shook his head, and forced himself into a sitting postion.

"God, that was bloody awful.." the vampire muttered, letting his face fall
into his hands. Buffy slid an arm around his waist and helped him to his
feet.

"I almost lost you..." she whispered, tightening her grip on him.

"I'm fine, pet. No worries." he turned to her, and was only a little less
surprised than Giles to find Buffy's lips on his. He kissed her back hungrily for
a moment before she broke away, and looked at the Watcher.

"Giles, why don't you go talk with the others? Do some research? Find out
what that...poem means? I need to talk to Spike. Alone."

Giles stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of
water, before nodding dumbly and hurrying out the door, muttering something
about a good scotch.

Spike grinned a little dumbly himself as the Slayer led him up the stairs.
He was tired as hell, yeah, and still aching, but not so much that he wasn't
interested in what she might be planning.

He found out right quick as her bedroom door closed behind them.


///


Spike awoke with a start, hearing something thump to the ground outside the
Slayer's window. He listened, tilting his head, as small footsteps hurried
away into the night.

He muttered a curse, and disentangled himself from the sleeping Buffy as
gently as he could without waking her. Throwing on his jeans and shirt and
grabbing his duster, he made it out of the house just in time to see Dawn
disappear around the corner.

"Nibblet.." he growling, wondering what the girl could possibly be
thinking, sneaking out at 2 a.m. As he took off after her, he decided he
would find out before he dragged her home.


///


Angel had had worse days. He couldn't recall them at the moment, but he
was sure he had. The Cleansing had been horrible, sure. But he knew he
deserved it, after everything he had done in his time. Four aspirin had
taken care of the lingering side effects, so they had continued on, driving
the last 20 minutes to Sunnydale.

Wes and Cordelia had remained behind, poring through books, trying to find
some reference to the prophecy he had spoken after the Cleansing was over.
The vampire had left them to it, deciding to prowl around town for the
remainder of the night, to try and find any other information he might need.

He ducked into a shadow when he saw a girl run by, perhaps 15 years old.
The girl...Buffy's sister, Dawn. That's who she was. He frowned, watching
as she looked behind her, and sped up slightly. Angel searched around her,
almost leaving the shadows to go and ask her what she was doing, when he saw
someone following her, keeping to the rooftops.

He growled, vamping out as he recognized Spike, stalking the girl.

He followed the pair, keeping out of range, but close enough to be ready to
do something when Spike attacked.


///


Spike was getting tired of following Dawn. She had been out for nearly 30
minutes, and apparently going in circles. He figured it was best to just end it
right now, before she got hurt. Even with most of the vampires dusted,
there was still an untold number of beasties crawling about.

She turned into an alley and Spike leapt off the building, landing before
her in a crouch.

Dawn shrieked in surprise.

"Spike?!"

The vampire reached out to grab her by the arm and haul her home, when a
dark shape slammed into him with the force of a small car, knocking him to
the ground.

Dawn screamed for real this time, and jumped back as the other vampire
jumped on Spike and threw him away from her. Spike was on his feet in less
than a second, dancing on his toes, his face reflecting amusement when he
recognized his foe.

"Peaches? Just what in the bloody hell do you think..." he was cut off
when Angel threw a right hook at his jaw.

Spike chuckled as the blow knocked him back a few feet. Then returned the
favor, bringing up his leg and kicking the older vampire in the side of the
head, knocking him to the ground.

"Stupid, Spike, attacking Buffy's sister. Are you just begging for an..."
this time it was Angel who trailed off as Spike doubled over laughing.
Taking it as an insult, Angel went on the attack again, kneeing Spike in the
face and throwing him onto his back. Still, Spike didn't stop laughing.

The younger vampire only laughed harder when Angel was attacked from
behind, by a very brassed off ex-Key.

"Leave him alone!" Dawn screamed, and kicked Angel hard in the back of the
knee. The vampire spun, instinct driving the flat of his hand at the girl's
face, knocking her to the side. Spike stopped laughing.

"Dawn?" Angel asked, surprised. "I'm sorry, I.." she raised her head and
glared at him. Her tiny fist flew out, and with a move that rivaled her big
sister, struck him hard in the eye. He staggered back, only to find a fully
vamped out Spike, who locked an arm around his neck.

"Don't. Touch. The girl." Spike growled, and dropped Angel hard.
Forcing his demon away, he stepped over the fallen vampire and reached out
to Dawn.

"You okay, Nibblet?" he asked, concern in his voice, to Angel's surprise.

"Yeah." she said, shaking her hand. "I'm fine." She continued to glare at
Angel, who was getting to his feet.

"What in the hell is going on here?" Angel demanded.

Spike chuckled.

"An' I'm guessin' Buffy hasn't told you nuthin' bout me recently, has she?"

Angel just stared at him.

"Figures." Spike shrugged, and took Dawn by the arm. He seemed to forget
about Angel for a moment.

"Now, little bit, I could kill you where you stand, what in the soddin'
hell are you doin' sneakin' 'round at 2 a.m.? Without me?"

Dawn smiled sheepishly.

"Um, going for a walk?"

Spike shook her lightly.

"Bit..." he warned.

"Visitingmyboyfriend." she said quickly.

"BOYFRIEND?! Who?" Spike nearly yelled.

"Hello?" Angel said, stepping closer to the two. "Spike, if you don't tell
me what is going on..." he moved closer. And sniffed the air. "Why do you
smell like Buffy?"

"Bloody hell..."

Part 8:

Spike rolled his eyes and turned away from Angel. He wasn't really in the
mood to explain to his grand-sire that he was shaggin' the love of his
unlife.

"Come on, Bit, I'm takin' you home." he growled, hauling Dawn back toward
the house.

"But..But..." Dawn started.

"No buts! Now! Who is this boyfriend? I'll rip 'is head off. I'll
crush 'is bones into bloody powder..."

"Alright! I wasn't going to see a boyfriend! I don't have a boyfriend! I
was going to break into the Magic Shop."

"Is that all?" Spike scoffed. "An' ya couldn'ta asked for some company?"
He paused. "Er...Ya know Buffy wouldn't be pleased with that."

"Which is why I was sneaking out!" Dawn said, shaking him off her arm.

"SPIKE!" Angel called, loping up after them. "Spike, I mean it, if you
don't..."

Spike sighed. And turned around.

"Listen, Peaches, let me get the Bit home, then we can pound the bloody hell
outta each other, right?"

Angel sighed, and shrugged, following, if only to make sure Spike didn't
hurt Dawn. He didn't know what was going on, what had happened to Spike
that he was apparently...not good, but not killing everything in sight.

"Last time I saw you, Spike, you had me tortured." he said calmly.

Spike chuckled.

"Ah, memories. Yeah, it was a riot. A bloody good time. Live with me 'til
my dusty ending, that."

Angel growled.

"What did you do to Buffy? Why is her smell all over you?"

"Maybe you should ask 'er, mate. "

Dawn ignored Angel, apparently still mad that he had hit her.

"Last time I saw Dru she rambled about you having gone soft, but..."

Spike whirled around.

"I haven't gone soft. I'm still the Big Bad. You people would do right to
'member that."

He turned around and continued on.

"An' Dru's dead. Dusted 'erself, knowing this Cleansing rot was comin'.
She woulda been too weak to survive it." he continued.

Angel frowned, confused as hell.

"Cleansing?"

"Yeah, you know, about 5 hours ago? 'appened to us all? Us bein'
vampires?" Spike shook his head.

"That...was a Cleansing? And you survived?" Angel was skeptical.

"Yeah, unless you're hallucinating."

It was Angel's turn to shake his head. He remained silent the rest of the
way to Buffy's. He figured that this meeting meant he could see her now. He
hoped.

///


Spike followed Dawn up the front steps, once again surprising Angel as he
walked into Buffy's house without an invite. Angel, having already been
invited long ago, followed, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Spike? I woke up and you..."

Spike hurried to cut her off.

"Yeah, luv, the Nibblet scampered off an' I went out to fetch 'er. Ran inta
someone..."

He trailed off, watching Buffy come down the stairs, staring at Angel.

Her eyes widened. She hit the bottom step just in time for Angel to rush
up and enfold her in his arms.

"Buffy, I was so worried. I thought..." he stopped and turned around,
watching the door slam behind Spike as the vampire took off into the night.

Buffy sighed and pushed Angel away.

"What are you doing here?" she looked to Dawn. "What's going on?"

Dawn shrugged, and ran up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

"Buffy, I should be asking YOU what's going on. What is the deal with
Spike? Why is he hanging around?"

"It's a long story, Angel..." Buffy sighed, sinking down onto the stairs.

The vampire stared at her. "I've got a while. I feel like I deserve an
explanation."

"You really wanna know?" Buffy looked him in the eye. "Fine. After the
whole Ring of Amara thing, Spike came back here, got captured by the
government, found out he had a chip in his head that wouldn't let him hurt
anyone and we took him in." Buffy took a breath.

Angel's eyebrows raised, watching the Slayer.

"You took him in? Just because of some chip? Not that I'm not seeing the
humor in all this..."

"Yeah, we did. He was helpless...starving, Angel! And he had information
we needed. He started helping out. He went toe to toe with Glory for me
and Dawn. For nothing! He's changed, Angel. He loves me...."

"He loves you?!" Angel yelled. "Buffy, he doesn't have a soul!"

"He loved Drusilla for more than a hundred years! What does a soul
matter?"

Angel threw up his hands, and turned away.

"So that's why he smells like you. I let you go so you can have someone
normal, and you turn to Spike?! All of the people he ruthlessly murdered,
before this chip, what, that just disappears? Don't you care?"

Buffy stood up, clenching her fists.

"Of course I care. I know what he's done, just like I know what you've
done."

"I have a soul, Buffy. I regret what I've done. To him, it's just a happy
memory!"

"Stop it!" Buffy screamed. She took a few deep breaths. "Just...stop. I
have to go find him. We'll talk about this later."

She stormed out, leaving the bewildered vampire behind.



///

"Bloody poof." Spike muttered as he knocked back a shot. Willy's was
pretty much empty, no vampires left to populate it. Willy had been shocked
himself to see Spike walk in, thinking all the vampires had 'bitten the dust'.

Spike sighed as he felt Buffy approaching. Looking around, he thought about
making a run for it, but decided to wait it out.

"Spike." she called from the doorway. "What the hell are you doing?"

He turned around, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Givin' you and Peaches some alone time."

"You jealous?" Buffy said softly, approaching.

"Of course I'm bloody jealous! I love you!" Willy whistled softly between
his teeth, earning murderous looks from both blondes.

"I know you don't love me. I'm not a stupid git." Spike continued. "You
love him. So, here I am, leavin' you to it." Buffy was only inches away
now. "So why tha hell are you here?"

He watched her, his stormy eyes swirling with emotion. Her hand suddenly
flew out and cracked him hard across the face.

"Do you KNOW how scared I was? That you would die during the Cleansing?
God, Spike, why do you think I was crying?"

The vampire rubbed his jaw, glaring at her.

"Maybe 'cos you were afraid you'd lose your favorite toy?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed. She raised her voice.

"If I treat you so horribly, then why the hell do you hang around?"

Spike raised his voice, standing up, shouting in her face.

"Because I love you, you stupid bitch!" His nose was almost touching
hers.

"Well, I love you too!" she shouted back, and grabbed his head, pulling him
close, and smashing her mouth to his.

Spike groaned and melted into her lips, his hands tangling in her hair.
Then his eyes flew open. He pushed her away.

"You...you love me?

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

The Meydum Pyramid-Faiyum Oasis, Egypt


Through the veil of darkness, three figures moved. The clank of shovels
and tools was the only sound that broke the quiet of the night. The moon
shone overhead, nearly full, illuminating the desert landscape. A large
pyramid loomed, oddly shapen, as if the ancient builders hadn't a clue what
they were doing when it was constructed. The figures paused, looking over
the area, hushed, waiting.

One of the figures finally spoke.

"It is time," he said, pointing ahead. The group hurried forward,
dumping their packs in the sand. The other two broke out the shovels and
began to dig, throwing sand aside at inhuman speeds. Finally, there came the
sound of metal on metal, and the first man bent, brushing sand off a small,
hematite-coloured box.

"Ahh..." he whispered, "Revenant. Soon, Kahamet, you shall rise. Out of
the ashes of the Cleansing you shall be reborn."

He pulled the box from the earth, and opened it slowly. A pile of grayish
ashes lay in the bottom, glistening in the moonlight. The man smiled.

"Yes. The bridge will be destroyed. And darkness will reign till the end
of days...."

///

"Oh dear..." Giles muttered, looking up from a dusty tome he was studying,
the others -- including Angel, Cordelia and Wesley -- wincing at hearing those
words from the man.

He tapped the book excitedly with his finger.

"I've found it! The prophecy. It's right here..." he continued, reading
from the book. " 'The child of light'...Which we have established as being
a reference to Buffy...'shall be the consecrator of the bridge'...." The
watcher frowned. He slammed the book shut. "More riddles." He sighed and
removed his glasses, leaning back in his chair.

It had been two days since the Cleansing, and they knew they were running
out of time. The Scoobies plus the Fang Gang had spent hours researching,
and had found nothing.

"But I don't understand." Buffy broke the silence. "If I am this Child of
Light, then who am I supposed to give my soul to?"

"I don't..." Giles started, only to be interrupted by Cordy.

"The Bridge..." she said softly, and everyone turned to look at her. Her
eyes were glazed, she looked as if she were asleep.

"Cordy?" Angel said, worry thick in his voice. He moved to her side, and
took her hand. "What about the Bridge?"

"The Bridge....The shade of gray," the seer continued, her head swaying
slightly.

Buffy frowned, watching the entranced girl. "I'm supposed to give my
soul to a BRIDGE?" she asked skeptically.

"The Darkness and the Light..." Cordy whispered. "The in-between. Evil
and Good. The Opposites must be joined...."

Spike frowned, listening. Even after puzzling out Drusilla's banter for
over a hundred years, he still couldn't understand what the girl meant.

The seer's eyes suddenly flashed, and turned on Spike and Buffy. Her voice
rose, taking on a tone none of them knew she possessed.

"The Bridge will be consecrated in the Child's Blood. The Binding of one
soul into two." She closed her eyes. "The Bridge will taste the blood of the
Child...." She trailed off, and slumped into Angel's arms, asleep.

Dead silence filled the room for more than a minute.

Giles was the first to speak.

"The Bridge will taste...The Bridge is a person, no doubt. Most likely one
of us...." he trailed off. "The Darkness and the Light, Good and Evil..."

Buffy frowned, and looked to Spike.

"The Opposites must be joined..." she continued for Giles, her eyes
widening a little.

Giles looked at her, then looked at Spike.

"Oh dear..." he muttered once again.

Spike blinked, looking between the two of them.

"What?"

Giles sighed, and replaced his glasses firmly on his nose, before meeting
Spike's eyes.

"You, Spike. You are the Bridge."

///

"So, you're saying that Spike has to FEED from Buffy? Anyone else seeing the
wrong here?" Xander raged, slamming his chair back under the table as he
rose.

"Xander, I really don't think..." Giles began.

"No, he's right." Angel said. "This is...wrong. How can this help?
Giving Spike a soul?"

" 'Ello, still 'ere. And not wantin' a soddin' soul," Spike spoke up.

Everyone ignored him.

"If we are to have any chance at all in defeating this...Darkness, then we
must do everything in our power to assure that events happen as they are
supposed to. Prophecies are tricky things. They find a way of coming true
even if you try to stop them. And most of the time, things end up worse in
the end if you work against them."

"So, you're saying, no matter what we do, the world is going to end? Then
why bother?" Buffy asked, pacing.

"No, I'm saying that we must play the hand we are dealt. There is never
any certainty of which side will win. If Spike and Buffy must be bound to
one another in order to have a fighting chance, then that is what we must
do." The watcher's voice rose, his tone brooking no argument.

Buffy sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Then what do we do?
How are we supposed to bind to each other?"

Willow spoke up meekly. "I, uh...know a spell. It seems to be the
way to go....Since blood seems to be the...uh...catalyst."

Everyone turned to her.

"I can do it...If uh...Giles will help." she trailed off.

Giles sighed.

"Yes, since it seems to be our only option. What will we need?"

"Uh, just a few things, that we should have here at the shop. And, uh,
Spike and Buffy of course..."

Buffy nodded. "Then we do it. How long will it take you to prepare?"

"A few hours." The witch said, sitting up straighter, feeling more
important.

"Alright." The slayer turned to Spike, who looked as if he was looking for
the quickest way out.

"We need to do this, Spike. Are you with me?" she asked softly.

"What am I gonna do with a bleedin' soul? I don't wanna be another bloody
Peaches!" he half whined, half yelled.

Angel glowered at him.

"We'll deal with it, alright? This has to be done! Spike, I need you on
this...Will you do it?"

The vampire looked from her, to the door, and back again. Finally, he
sighed.

"Alright, I'll do it!" He couldn't deny his Slayer anything.

She smiled and pecked him on the lips, which the others chose to ignore.
No need in bringing up the issue until the current crisis was over.

Buffy turned, placing her hands on her hips.

"Alright. Willow, Giles, tell us what we need to do, and then get ready.
The rest of you, keep at the research. We need more answers. In an hour,
we're doing the ritual."

Spike sighed and slumped onto the couch.

"Bloody hell...."

Spike paced in the training room of the Magic Box, grumbling to himself.
He needed to be alone. He didn't want a soul, he didn't want to be this
Bridge. He liked who he was. He had changed so much already, he didn't
know if he could handle a soul -- just the thought of being reduced to his
pathetic ponce of a grandsire.


He had killed countless people, and enjoyed every minute of it -- before
he was chipped. He didn't feel bad about it; he didn't regret his actions. But
even he didn't know if he could do it again. He was a monster, true. But
before, people were just food. Fodder. Now he lived among them. He loved
two of them, his slayer and his Niblet. And he dared call the Scoobies his
friends, though they would probably pale at that idea.


Sod it. He was still who he was. A bleedin' soul wasn't going to change
that.


His internal tirade was interrupted when Buffy opened the door.


"It's time."


///



Buffy and Spike sat, facing each other, in the middle of a chalk circle
drawn on the floor. Candles illuminated the room, smoke from incense hung
thick in the air. They stared into each other's eyes, concentrating on one
another.


"Take her hand, and stand, both of you." Willow commanded, from the
sidelines, where she and Giles stood, ready to do the ritual.


Spike did as he was told, helping the Slayer to her feet. The touch of her
warm skin on his thrilled him as always, leaving his senses tingling.


He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, resting his
forehead on her shoulder. Willow had told him he would know when the time
was right, that the magic would take control.


He knew Buffy was nervous; her heart hammered in her chest, her breath came
in little gasps. He rubbed his hand in small circles on the small of her
back, attempting to calm her.


"Aether, we summon thee, come forth for the Child of Light, and witness
this blessed event." Giles spoke.


"Hecate, we summon thee, come forth for the Child of the Night, and witness
this blessed event." Willow spoke, her voice raising, blending with the
echoes of the Watcher's words.


The air in the room thickened. Spike could taste it. His own unneeded
breath sped up; if his heart beat, it would have matched the pace of Buffy's.


Together, the Watcher and the witch continued.


"Kastor and Polydeukes, we summon thee, to bind these warriors, one of
darkness, one of light. Bind her soul to him, make them one."


The room crackled with energy. A swirling greenish light flared up around
the vampire and the Slayer, tendrils of green licking their forms like flames.


"By the blood they shall be bound. By the blood they shall be bound..."


Spike suddenly could no longer hear the chanting. Buffy's blood sang out
to him, calling him. He felt his face change, bones shifting as the demon
came forth. Panting, he pulled his head up, and looked into her eyes. She
stared back at him, fear glistening in her gaze.


"Do it."


Whether or not it was Buffy who spoke, Spike couldn't tell. But he obeyed,
bending to her throat. He licked her skin gently, savoring its taste, before
sinking his fangs into her golden flesh. The blood immediately spilled into
his mouth, Slayer blood, ambrosia. He drank greedily, suckling her neck. Pure
light. It tasted like light.


His body weakened, and he sank to his knees, still holding her, drinking
her, caught in a half swoon. He moaned against her throat. The first
Slayer he had drunk from had been nothing like this. This was energy, love,
pleasure and pain, pure emotion. She burned him from the inside out,
filling him, tearing him apart and rebuilding him from nothing. She swam
through his dead veins, giving him life, filling him with the light of her
being. His heart throbbed in time with hers, his dead heart beating for
the first time in over a hundred and fifty years, before it stilled once
again.


He pulled his head back, the demon retreating, still clutching her
shuddering form to his chest. His muscles slowly went limp, and he fell
backward, moaning.


Voices whispered in his head. The room crumbled away to nothing, and he
floated in a void. Light flooded his vision, but he wasn't afraid of it. It
was warm, like a mother's arms, enfolding him, protecting him.


Drusilla danced suddenly before him in flashing frames, moving closer. She
was before him and far away, and her voice whispered to him.


"You are the Bridge, my William. Don't let them bleed you."


And she was gone.


People suddenly surrounded him, millions of people. Their hands reaching
for him. Before they vanished as well.


The feeling changed. The warmth became pain, burning, searing. A
beautiful woman appeared, her form huge, screaming in rage and hate. Flames
leapt up between them, and he shied back.


"The Darkness is coming, Bridge. I am coming. The night sings for blood,"
the woman said, her voice terrible and full of evil even he wasn't capable of.


"Your blood." the void wavered.


"Spike!"


His eyes flashed open, the real world returning with a crash.


Giles and Willow stood over him, peering down. The witch was shaking him.


"Bloody....hell..." he managed to gasp, his eyes wide and wild, as the
guilt and remorse of all that he had done flooded over him.


He struggled with it for a moment, forgetting about Giles and Willow, not
seeking to question about the Slayer, just trying to come to terms with it all.
He was a strong man, a stronger monster. He wouldn't become the brooding ponce.
It's the past, it's the past, he repeated to himself, clenching his fists so hard
his nails bit into the flesh of his palms. The face of everyone he had ever
killed floated before him, one at a time, taunting him. He lost track of time
as he whispered an apology to each one, mentally absolving himself. For now,
at least. He had to get control. He couldn't break down, not now, not when
things had to be done. Not ever.


The past was the past. Worrying about it, brooding over it, wouldn't
change a thing. His actions now were what mattered. He could still be who
he was, still be the Big Bad.


He finally returned to himself again, looking up at the worried faces of
Red, Giles and his Slayer. He smiled a little, and forced his head up
slightly.


"Sorry." he told them all, and fell back into darkness.


///

Three men stood on the mouth of Hell. Firelight flickered, illuminating
the room, casting shadows throughout the cavern. They chanted, their arms
outstretched over a small box. Magic swirled about them, a vortex of
glimmering colour.

Drawing a breath, each one pulled a silver athame from his sleeve, slowly
pulling the sharp blade over the flesh of his wrist.

One bent and opened the box, and each held a bleeding wrist over it, the
red vitae splashing in the ashes contained within.

"Rise, Kahamet!" one shouted, his long black hair stirring in the energy.
"Rise and reclaim what is yours!"

Breath stilled. The box exploded. Brillant lights flashed, before
darkness fell. And all was still.


///


Spike paced, barely listening to the discussions of the group. They had
kept him on a tight leash since the ritual, fearing he was too weak to go on
patrol. It was nerve-wracking the way they coddled him. All he wanted to
do was kill something. And quickly.

"The reports say that a mark was left on the victims, cut into their skin.
I was able to get a look, and discovered it was the mark of the Obsek demons,"
the Watcher was saying.

"Obsek? Where do I find them, and how are they killed?" Buffy said,
crossing her arms.

"From what I've been able to gather, they hunt in packs, and seek shelter
in places of filth. They are sometimes mercenaries, have little language --
but that's all I've found."

"Places of filth?" Xander asked. "Like, the sewers, junkyards?"

"Yes. Something like that."

"Then we split up. They've killed 15 people so far, I gotta stop them.
Giles, Anya, you guys stay here and keep researching on this...end of the
world thing." The Slayer snapped her head to Angel. "Angel, Cordy, take
the sewers. Xander, Willow, topside. Cemeteries, alleys, whatever. Spike and
I'll take the junkyard." She rolled her eyes at Spike's elated look.
"If you find them, come back here. Don't try and take them on alone. Alright?
Let's go."

She grabbed a sword from the table and started toward the door, Spike on
her heels.

"Buffy?" Angel asked, standing.

She turned around.

"Be careful."

She nodded, and gave him a small smile, before disappearing out the door.

"You too, Spike." he continued.

"Same to you, Peaches," the vampire called out before the door slammed behind him.

///


The junkyard was quiet. A few rats were all they had found so far.
Spike idly kicked a tin can, looking around.

"This is bloody boring," he announced, lighting a cigarette. "I don't
think they're 'ere, Slayer. Can we go?"

She turned around, watching him.

"Yeah, I guess." She paused. "How are you? You're alright...Right?"

Spike sighed, smoke trailing from his lips.

"Yes, I am fine. I wish people would stop askin'. Jus' cause I'm not
moping around like Peaches...."

"Sorry! God, I can't be worried?"

Spike lifted his head skyward, closing his eyes.

"Look, luv, I'm sorry, but it's jus' bleedin' annoying how everyone is
usin' kid gloves on me." He stepped closer to her, looking into her eyes.
"I'm. Fine. I'm still the same vampire I was before. I can deal with it.
Alright? We've got more ta worry 'bout than my less than fragile psyche,
alright?"

She smiled, and opened her mouth to respond.

"I really hate to break up this beautiful moment..."

They both spun around, adopting fighting stances, to see two men, dressed
in black, flanked by three huge, reddish-coloured demons.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

One of the men chuckled, and stepped forward, idly playing with a lock of
long black hair.

"I'm Vincent. And you? You're dead."

The demons rushed forward, growling. Buffy took the opportunity to
flip one over her back, throwing him with a crash into a rusty double decker
bus.

The other two attacked Spike. He leapt and spun, his boot-clad foot
smashing the face of the first, before landing and throwing a punch into the
throat of the other. The first veered off, deciding the Slayer would be an
easier target. It surprised the girl, picking her up and sending her sailing
through the front windshield of the bus. She landed with a crash, taking out
one of the poles in the aisle. The demon jumped through the hole it had made,
quickly followed by another. Buffy stood, shaking glass from her hair, and
backed off a few paces as they both rushed her. Her blade arced, slicing
the throat of the first before the second tackled her to the ground.

Meanwhile, Spike was having a blast. Pounding on the demon did wonders
for his frustration. He punched it twice in the face and snarled, grabbing
its shoulders. It head-butted him, causing him to stagger back a few
paces.

"Stop!" Vincent shouted, stepping forward. The demon stopped, and lowered
its head. The man grinned, walking slowly toward Spike, who eyed him while
wiping blood from his nose. "It'd do Kahamet's heart sorrow if you harmed him...
before she could."

Spike raised a brow, and chuckled to himself.

"So this is a kidnapping then?" he licked his lips. "Think you can take
me?" He bounced on his feet, grinning.

"I know all about you, Spike. For one..." the man said calmly, folding his
arms behind his back, "you are the Bridge."

Spike blinked. Not good.

"Yeah, wha' of it?"

Vincent smiled patiently.

"Well, we do need you if we are going to return Kahamet to full power."

He gestured and the other man stepped up, swinging a bat at Spike's face.
The vampire just shrugged and ducked the move, slamming his fist into the
man's stomach, sending him to his knees.

Pain exploded in Spike's head, lacing outward to his temples. He yelped
and staggered back, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"I also know that you cannot harm us," Vincent said with a grin.

Now Spike was worried. Bleedin' humans. He turned around, dead set on
running away, and was stopped by a large hunk of metal slamming into his
mouth.

Again, he stumbled backward, looking at the other two men who had appeared
out of nowhere.

"Bloody hell..." he muttered, as they rushed him. He ducked, tripping one
of them. The chip punished him once again for the move, but he tried to
ignore the pain. The other two the men grabbed his arms, as the first came at him from
the front. He pulled his body up, leaning on the two that held him, and
smashed his feet into the third man's face, breaking his nose with a
sickening crunch. The force of the blow sent bone shards into the man's
brain, killing him instantly.

The chip went off, searing Spike's head. He screamed in agony, blood
pouring from his nose. His body jerked as the thing punished him for killing the
man. His eyes rolled back and he gritted his teeth. He went limp in the
arms of the two men.

"Bring him. The lady won't be kept waiting."


///

Buffy heard Spike scream. She whipped her head to the side, trying to peer
out the bus's dirty windows, but could see nothing. She cursed and brought
her sword up to block the metal pole the demon had picked up as a weapon. She
shoved back, throwing the demon away from her, and brought her sword up as it rushed
again, impaling it through the middle.

Abandoning the sword, she jumped over the bodies of the demons, and climbed
out the front windshield.

"Spike?" she asked, looking around, cold fear clenching at her chest.

She saw nothing. The body of a man lay on the ground, his head haloed in
a pool of blood. The scene wavered as her eyes filled with tears.

"Spike?"

Her voice barely whispered through the dead of the night.

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