Title: Chicken Soup for The Immortal Soul (Chapter Sixteen of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: The Scoobies join forces to try and figure out what is happening to Buffy. Takina comes to check on Buffy and her son. Tara and Willow attempt to find the source of the enchantment. Spike and Buffy are faced with harrowing menu choices.

Chicken Soup for the Immortal Soul



"So, how's the research going?" A refreshed and relieved Willow asked as she hung her jacket on the coat rack and reached for Tara's.

"Nowhere fast, I'm afraid," Giles answered, rubbing his forehead absently. He looked stressed. Concerned. Then again, he was a Watcher and that seemed to be a permanent expression. Willow thought about it a moment. When Giles had succumbed to his calling, he was signing on to be the mentor of a fifteen year old girl, a Slayer, not of two adult beings supernaturally joined and now more powerful than any Slayer, or any Vampire could be alone. Still, he stayed. Still, he seemed to enjoy his work. Usually.

"Still with the dreamscape?" Willow asked, grabbing a mug and helping herself to the seemingly eternal supply of coffee.

"Moved on from that, I'm afraid," Giles answered. Spike stood in the corner, arms folded, deep in thought. He wasn't going to tell the story again. Giles could understand that. Quickly, he caught the rest of them up to speed on the day's occurrences, using as mild words as he could. No reason to make Spike any more agitated that he had already become.

"D'you call Takina?" Spike asked quietly, turning to Cyrus. He had asked his daughter's Watcher to ring the doctor. Might as well rule out anything physical that could be wrong with the other half of his life.

"I did," Cyrus answered, peeking into the living room. The two kids were rolled in a ball together like kittens, cartoons playing quietly as background noise. "She said she'd be out to see Will today anyway. No worries to check Buffy while she's here."

"Is Buffy sick?" Oz asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Tara shot him a gentle, but unmistakable, warning glance.

"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to be nosey," Oz corrected.

"Not sick, I don't think," Spike replied, his voice short and still so distant.

"Supernatural stuff," Oz mused. "I get it. Anything I can do, say the word."

"Not at the moment," Spike concluded, nodding politely. That was all he had to say on the subject.

"Spike?" Giles asked, turning his head to the Vampire. "About what we spoke of this morning. Were you serious?"

Spike thought for a moment. So much had happened in the last twenty four hours, he wasn't quite sure what the Watcher was referring to. But the look on Giles face, the fear and apprehension, said it all. The kids. "Yes," Spike answered. "But not at this point."

"Anya's coming by in a bit with Randy. We can keep an eye on the tots if you want to take Buffy out to patrol."

The thought hadn't occurred to Spike. She was ill and frightened. Why would he want to take her out into more danger? But he saw Rupert's point. If Buffy was up to it, taking her into their most comfortable environment, well second most comfortable to the bedroom, he may be able to gauge exactly how far this situation had gone. "That'd be helpful."

"Right," Giles nodded, watching Spike closely. "And I'll continue the research."

"We may want to get the Witches more involved at this point," Cyrus contributed as a knock sounded at the door.

Oz pushed himself from the wall, shrugging. "You know. Not a Witch. But good with doors." He disappeared towards the front door as the rest milled aimlessly about the kitchen.

"What.what can we do?" Tara asked, leaning against the counter and turning to face the Watchers.

Giles sighed. "What is happening to Buffy does not seem to be a normal consequence of the One. There is some sort of catalyst that is effecting the change. I would hazard to say that it is some sort of spell or enchantment."

Willow furrowed her brow. "Any idea who? I mean, it's easier to stump the mojo if you know who the source is."

"Draconius," Giles answered flatly. "I'm almost certain."

Willow's eyes went wide. "That's some big mojo."

"Do you really think we can help?" Tara asked, squeezing her lover's hand. "I mean Draconius."

"Well, we are not certain, at this point, that it is indeed Draconius," Cyrus interjected. Giles shot him an evil glance. In Rupert's mind, there was no one else it could be. Cyrus tended to agree, but the Witches were right, it was far easier to subvert a spell if one knew the source. "Is there any way to find out for sure? I mean, that'd help. So would being sure it was a spell to start with. Ooh, and what kind," Willow gushed.

"I'm not sure how to ascertain that at this point, Willow," Giles answered sullenly.

Tara stood, thoughtful for a moment. "Wait a minute. I mean, Anya still has active connections in the demon world. Right? So maybe she can ask around."

The idea made both Giles and Spike shudder. Not only because she was part of the group and they didn't want her in danger, but she was also their safety net when it came to protecting the children. "I'm not sure that is the wisest of ideas. She is needed here," Giles said, his eyes adding so much more. He didn't want to put her in danger.

"I don't think she'd even have to leave," Willow mused. "I mean, last time, when I went to find Spike, it was like I was a spectator. Maybe Anya can just locate Draconius and see if he's up to something without ever going near him.

"Can you do that?" Spike asked. "I mean, without any of you being in danger?"

"We can work on it," Tara answered, her smile soft and comforting. "It might help us figure out what we can do to neutralize the spell."

"Do it," Giles commented, his fear being overcome by his sense of duty. "If Anya agrees, of course."

Spike nodded his agreement.

"We can work in the basement. See if we can figure out a spell to just send her out there mentally without putting her in danger. Okay?" Willow asked, collecting her jacket and heading towards the basement door. "You still have some of my things down there?'

"In a box above the washer," Spike answered, nodding at the door. "Wanted it out of reach of the tots. Not sure what Emma can do yet."

"Sure," Tara said, smiling again. "We'll figure it out, Spike. We always do."

As the girls disappeared into the basement, Oz returned into the kitchen. "It was Xander's wife. I let her in. Hope that's okay."

"Fine," Spike answered, heading towards the dining room and the stairs.

"Whoa," Oz cautioned, putting out a hand to stop Spike. Spike eyed him warily. They weren't that closely acquainted that Spike still didn't think of knocking the wolf into a wall for preventing him from getting at Buffy. Oz moved his hand at the look. "Takina asked me to tell you that she wanted to look her over alone first. Then you could come up. She said you'd be anxious."

Spike thought a moment, blood still boiling, and then took a step back. Bird knew him too well. "Right then," Spike muttered, backing further into the kitchen. "What do I do until then?"

It was an honest question, but none of them knew. All they could do was research and try and keep the Scoobies from losing perspective without their leader.



The bedroom door opened with a creak. The sun was low in the sky and the room was filled with a hazy orange glow. It was like a foreign dreamscape to Spike. Not their room at all. Not quite right. But it was still her.

He had a bad feeling about this.

Buffy was pushed back against the pillows, blanket pulled up to her chin and knees drawn to her chest. Takina sat next to her, her soft hand patting Buffy's knee. Both of them jumped a bit as the door opened. Needed some oil. It ruined Spike's stealth entrances.

"How is she?" Spike asked, swallowing. He looked at Buffy and felt a wave of fear crash over him. It was almost tactile, cold and alone, pulsing under his skin.

Takina stood, pushing herself from the bed. "Physically, she's fine," the doctor answered in her most professional, metered, tone. "Maybe a little anemic. Other than that, she's as strong as ever. Heartbeat and lung function seem normal. No fever. She's a little cold."

The thought made Spike shudder. He remembered that feeling the most when he dug his way out of the ground. Cold. Afraid. He'd have never admitted it. He never admitted being frightened until Buffy. His strength and his lack of noticeable fear is what had kept him alive that long. "But nothing else."

"She says I'm fine." Buffy's voice was tinny. Distant, even to herself. "I mean, I feel okay."

"But you're not," Spike answered. Actually, it bordered on being a question, but the cold, alone feeling creeping under his skin made it a fact.

She shook her head, eyes full of unshed tears. "No."

"Do you think that her symptoms might be mystical?" Takina asked, leaning down so that her hand rested on Buffy's shoulder. Spike sat on the opposite side of the bed, fumbling for Buffy's hand. She was doing the same. They met in the middle.

Spike nodded. "Red and Tara are working on it now. Seems it may be a spell of some sort."

Buffy looked interested for the first time that day. Fear had been controlling her since the episode on the porch. For the first time, Spike felt anger creep in. It was a bloody good feeling.

"So someone is doing this to me?" Buffy asked, her voice laced with contempt.

Spike stared at her a second and smiled. "Can't stand anyone getting the better of us, can you, Pet?"

Buffy returned the smile, a little weakly, but a valiant effort. "Not on your life. Or unlife. Or our life. Or whatever." Spike chuckled. Had to buy the girl a few grammar books. "The Watcher's think it might be that poof Draconius."

"What?" Buffy yelped. "I thought we killed his sorry old butt."

"Merely banished him from this dimension, it seems," Spike answered.

"So, Draconius is casting a cross dimensional spell?" Takina asked, an eyebrow rising. Doctor was a smart woman, Spike thought.

"Looks that way," the Vampire answered. "Not sure. The Witches two are trying to suss out a way to be sure."

"Amazing he has that much power. It takes a lot of sheer magical force to cast cross dimensionally without a vector," Takina mused, leaning her hip against the end table.

"Watchers seem to think he might have some help in this dimension," Spike answered. "Likely unwilling."

"So the trick is to catch the pawn without harming it and deactivate the spell," the Doctor responded, her voice gaining confidence as if a light bulb had gone off over her head.

Buffy watched the exchange like a tennis match. She was bright, but the big wordiness made it harder to get to the point. "In English?"

"That was English, Love," Spike snarked. "Rather you Scooby-speak?"

Buffy bashed Spike with a pillow and he chuckled. He knew how bright she was, how good a leader and how accurate a tactician. But it was still fun to tease. "Just tell me."

"Tweeds downstairs think that Draconius, who is likely in some nearby hell dimension, is casting a spell on you. Well, more accurately on us. Takina pointed out that it takes a sodding tidal wave of magic to cross from one dimension to another without someone delivering the force. Watchers think that there may well be another party involved in this dimension, likely unwilling 'coz Draconius is an egotistical git and would want to pull the strings. Thing is, the poor bugger that gets to walk into our lion's den probably doesn't even know what they're doing. Don't want to kill it unless we have to," Spike explained, his fingers working gently against her palm.

"If something brought Draconius's little Vampire surprise to me, why *wouldn't* I kill it?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Because, Buffy, it has no free will. It's being manipulated by Draconius. Robbed of its defenses. It's like killing someone completely under a spell," Takina continued. "Whoever it is doesn't know they're hurting you."

"Still vote for the killing," Buffy muttered, looking at her knees.

"Seem to remember, Pet, when you and I both were under a spell or two. Got a bit sappy the once. Almost did the second time. Do you blame yourself for that?"

Buffy grinned, the embarrassing thought of their spell induced engagement and their tryst as the superhero dream team racing into her mind. May have ended up as truth, but at the time, she definitely didn't want to be blamed for what had happened. "Seeing your point."

"Thought you might, Love," Spike answered, kissing her nose.

"Maybe I can help track down the vector. Help Tara and Willow a bit," Takina commented, starting towards the door.

Spike nodded. "Sure they could use a hand."

"I'll check on William while I'm here. Has he been acting normally?" The Doctor asked.

Spike grinned. "If you mean sweet on your girl, then yes, he's right as rain."

"I've been hiding that from Xander," Takina chuckled. "I think it might give him a coronary."

"Maybe they'll grow out of it?" Buffy asked, shrugging. Somewhere, she knew they wouldn't.

"Doubt that, Love. Will's anything like his dad, he finds his girl and sticks to her," Spike contributed, sliding his shoulder behind Buffy and pulling her to rest against his chest.

"Like crazy glue," Buffy answered softly, her lips finding Spike's. They barely heard the door click closed.

"Mummy?" A small voice from outside the door called. Buffy's eyes fluttered open. She dozed back off, cradled in the warm safety of Spike's arms. He had fallen asleep as well, his head buried in her hair. She could swear she felt a drool mark on the crown of her head.

"Emma?" Buffy answered. "You can come in sweetie."

The door opened gently and Tara ushered the two kids through the door. Emma was walking very slowly, carrying a tray with soup and crackers for Buffy, and a mug of blood for Spike. Tara made sure Emma made it to the table before waving slightly and letting the door click closed.

"What's this?" Buffy asked, helping Emma steady the tray. Spike stirred behind her.

"Daddy said you were sick. When I was sick, you made me soup," Emma announced proudly, climbing up on the bed. The little girl reached down and hoisted her brother up with them.

"Awfully sweet of you, Mite," Spike said, motioning the little girl towards him. She scampered into his lap, taking up the part of his chest that Buffy wasn't leaning against. Will curled up between their legs, his head resting on his mother's thigh.

"Looks like they brought you some bloody-goodness as well," Buffy commented, inspecting the tray. Spike's stomach did a flip flop at the thought. Blood was completely unappealing. The soup smelled pretty good.

Buffy caught the look on his face and the sensation creeping from under his skin to hers. Her eyes shot over to him in surprise. "Wait a minute," she gushed. "This isn't just affecting me, is it?"

Spike looked at her a long moment, and shook her head. "No, Love. Not much of a Vampire at the moment."

"And can I just say that it's grossing me out that the blood smells good?" Buffy commented, crinkling her nose. "But so does the soup."

"Stick to the soup," Spike contributed. "You'll be happier when this is over."

Buffy thought, her eyes heavy with fatigue. "Spike, you *need* blood to stay strong. Live."

"That I do, Pet," Spike answered, nodding slightly.

She looked at the tray a moment longer, then at the kids. "Think we can do this for them? I mean, eat what we're supposed to?"

"Not sure. Making me ill to think on it," the Vampire answered, eyeing the warmed mug.

"I need you to be strong, Spike," Buffy pleaded, looking over at him with wide, doe, eyes. "I know neither of us.."

Spike nodded, holding out his hand. "Anything for the three of you, Pet. Just make sure you eat something. We've got to patrol tonight."

"Patrol?" Buffy asked, breaking crackers into the soup.

"Yes, Pet," he answered, stroking Emma's hair. He didn't want to say more in front of them.

"What's wrong, Mummy? Don't you want your soup?" Emma asked, watching her parents eye the food a little too long before eating.

"It's great, baby," Buffy said, taking a big spoonful. Spike took a sip of the mug and his face contorted in disgust. Buffy nudged him, watching Will look curiously at his father. Spike took another sip and steeled his resolve.

"Thank you," Spike continued, swallowing bile and focusing on the kids. Will beamed up at him. Emma curled into his chest.

Anything for them.

To be contd

Title: Hunger (Chapter Seventeen of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm .

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Buffy and Spike patrol. Anya and Giles argue over Anya's role in helping Buffy. The One encounter a group of Vampires and realize that their problems are worlds larger than they thought.

Hunger

The night was chilly. At least for California. The air was crisp and nearly weightless as they walked as they always had. It seemed like an eternity that they had patrolled side by side along the streets and alleys, cemeteries and campuses of this town. In one sense, it had been an eternity. In another, it had been only moments since they had called a truce and became One.

They were silent, as they often were on such walks. The sounds of their footsteps echoed in the chilly night air. Not much was going on. Most of the Vampire and demon population was laying low. Most of the humans were still involved in family get-togethers in the wake of the holidays. Just the sounds of their footsteps and the feel of each other's presence.

"You all right, Pet?" Spike asked, his eyes darting over to her. She was tense, her hands already gripping the stake she usually kept hidden until the final flourish.

"Unhunh," Buffy answered, unconvincingly. This silence wasn't quite as normal and comfortable as most. Spike pondered that for a moment. How many different kinds of quiet were there?

"Forgive me for saying so, Love," he began, listening to the rhythm of her footfalls, "but I think you're telling old Spike a bit of a lie."

Buffy turned her head, smiling weakly. "I'm fine. Really."

"All right," he answered, his hands involuntarily searching his pockets for a smoke. There were none there. Hadn't been for years. Didn't stop the habit of looking. Spike took a deep breath of the cold air. "Something on your mind then?"

"Other than the me turning into a Vampire possibilities, not really," she snarked in response, trying to be at least a bit light-hearted. It didn't work. He could feel the weight of her worry pumping like thick blood in her veins.

"Can see where that'd worry you, Pet. But we'll sort it out. " Spike reached for her free hand, the one not clutching white knuckled at the stake, and took it inside of his. Enveloped it. He was still amazed how her hand just.fit.inside of his.

Buffy relaxed just the smallest bit. "I know," she answered, trying to find that little thread of optimism. She was quiet a moment, searching the night sky for answers. Only finding stars. "Why would someone do this to me? To us?"

"Could be any number of reasons, Pet," Spike replied, pulling her closer until her hip brushed his with every stride. "If it is truly that *git* we sent sprawling to hell, my guess would be to get to Emma."

Buffy crinkled her nose, staring up at his deep blue eyes. "But why? I mean, why try and make us. into each other."

He had to chuckle. Hadn't thought about it quite like that. "Well, "Spike sighed, letting go of her hand and wrapping an arm around her. "Guess is that it's a diversion. Make you all fangy grr, you'll be too upset to keep your guard up. Not to mention, preoccupied with the burning in sunlight and bloodlust."

"And can we *stop* with the graphic depiction?" Buffy whined, shuddering at the thought. "Besides, it still leaves you. Only effect it's had there is your generally feeling of non-tastiness towards blood."

Again, Spike had to chuckle. "There've been other things. But wouldn't need them. You should know by now, Pet, the best way to disarm me is threaten you or the tots. Can't seem to think straight when you're in danger."

She smiled, a big night-lighting smile. "I knew I liked you for some reason. All sweet and sappy and romantic."

"Don't say that too loud, Love. Might ruin my reputation," Spike chided, squeezing her a little tighter. His reputation had been completely obliterated the minute he fell in love with the Slayer and he knew it.

"So, what other things?" Buffy asked, her feet still making tiny tapping noises as her boots crossed the pavement.

"Come again?" Spike asked, brushing hair from her face with the back of his hand.

"When I said the only effect it was having on you was the blood thing, you said that there were other things. What other things?" Buffy asked, turning a corner into their second Sunnydale cemetery of the night. It constantly amazed her how many grave yards there were in such a small town. Made her think they hadn't worked nearly hard enough.

Spike sighed, rounding the corner still brushing against her hip. "Well, other than my lack of taste for blood, and this incredible urge to become a martyr, there's this sodding nasty feeling of goodness and light. How do you live with it, Pet? All that sunshine and roses and save the world for the sake of small dogs and baby seals?"

Buffy laughed, her whole body shaking. "You've got to be kidding me."

"No, Pet," Spike replied, smiling. "Not quite sure how to describe it, but I think I get the idea of where all the pressure comes in."

"What pressure?" Buffy asked, strolling peacefully now. Spike always knew how to take the edge off.

"Pressure to save the sodding world all the time. Couldn't understand why you *always* did the right thing. Tried to at least. Why you cared bout the fate of the lot of them. But you have this.huge.bloody light shoved inside of you telling you what to do and when and how. Don't know how you've made it this long without blowing a circuit," Spike explained, his free hand rubbing his brow.

"It's not bad," Buffy answered. "The light bit. You get used to it."

"Not bloody likely," Spike complained, his fingers working his temples.

Buffy giggled. Then she laughed. She bit her lip to stop the tears from falling down her face. Spike looked at her, head tilted, eyebrow cocked in concern. Maybe this wasn't just making her more like him, but it was also making her a little off her rocker. "What is it then?"

She blushed a deep crimson. "Nothing."

"No, Pet," Spike prodded, catching her infectious grin. "What?"

The blush became impossibly deeper. "I'm such a perv." Her hand covered her face innocently.

"Now that I like to hear," he responded, his eyebrows waggling joyously. "But why right now?"

"Um," she giggled. "That part about huge and shoved inside."

If it was possible for a Vampire to blush, Spike was giving it his best go. He'd loved her all along, but her sense of adventure had come a long way. "Trying to tell me something, Love?" He snarked, spinning her to face him. He backed her against the wall of a mausoleum, lowering his face until he spoke right against her lips.

"Since I'm all missing the light. thought maybe you could come up with something to replace it. You know. since I'm all unfilled," she taunted, her voice low and sultry. His heart skipped a beat. How he ever thought he had loved before was beyond him.

"Well, if you're asking nicely."

A noise made both of their heads spin. Just as his lips brushed her ear, a small group of Vampires emerged from the mausoleum, drunk and fired up for the night. Buffy could feel the blood pumping, not sure if it was from Spike or from the sudden urge to fight. Spike looked at her for a long moment. That horrid bright light burned inside of him. "Looks like this might have to wait, Pet."

Buffy sighed, letting the fight overcome the incredible, unbridled lust. "Can we kill them at least?"

"Vampire's love. That's your job," Spike answered, inhaling her scent in one deep breath, then pushing himself away from her.

"Yippee," Buffy chirped, darting out from under his arm and taking off towards the fight.



"I don't see why you don't just let me *go* there. I'm telling you *now* he is with Luke," Anya complained, her arms crossed over her chest and her leg cocked out to the side. Giles still sat on the hard stool, facing her. She was pressed against the wall looking annoyed like only Anya could.

"Because Willow and Tara have devised a way to ascertain whether or not Draconius is truly even there without you being in danger. You should be able to hang about long enough to try and sort out their plan without them ever knowing that you've arrived," Giles countered, shifting his sleeping son against his chest. The baby murmured and rested his head against Giles' shoulder.

"I *know* Luke. He's not a smart demon, Rupert. I can just ask. If I ask the right way, he'll spill it in a second." She paused, musing, a small grin breaking on her face. "Besides, he's always had a little crush on me. I can pass freely between hell dimensions and here."

"As much as I'm enthused that the hell god in residence of the consecutive dimension has a soft spot for you, my dear, I don't find it safe. Not to mention, have you even *tried* to pass freely between hell and earth lately?" Giles responded, the anger growing in his voice. He stood, bouncing the child a bit and patting the boy's back. Randy gurgled and fell back to sleep.

Anya looked at him a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well, no. But why wouldn't I be able to?"

"Demon or no," Giles snapped, "You've got a human soul, Anya. It may affect your freedom of movement in ways that you have not grown accustomed to."

"Hunh," Anya sighed, leaning back against the kitchen wall. "Hadn't really thought of that."

Giles looked at her, still angry. She wasn't getting the point. Not the real one. Not the reason he didn't want her to go. "That's the problem, Anya. You've all the good intentions in the world, but you don't always think."

Her face flared an angry red and Giles was suddenly thankful that he was holding their son. Still, he looked quickly down to check for signs of evisceration. They say that mortal wounds don't hurt half as much as a paper cut. His body parts were present and accounted for. When he raised his eyes again, her face had become calm, serene, the angry red fading into the sweet, honeyed glow of her cheeks. "Aw, Rupie."

Giles was startled a moment, his mouth twitching. "Y...yes?"

"You're worried about me!" Anya enthused. "You don't want me to go because you're afraid I won't come back!" She ran towards him full throttle, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly knocking his glasses off in the process. She artfully avoided catching the baby in the death grip.

"And you're just figuring this out now, Anya?" Giles asked, when he thought it might again be safe to speak.

"You should have just said so," she cooed into his ear, letting her lips brush the sensitive skin. Giles shuddered slightly. Anya had always been an amazing woman.

"I suppose I should have," Giles commented, wrapping his free arm around her waist. "But I thought that it went without saying."

"Say it anyway," Anya whispered, pressing herself against him in all the most delicious ways.

"I don't want you in danger. I don't want you to go and take the chance that you won't come back. I don't want you to leave Randy, nor me. I love you, Anya," Giles admitted, burying his face in her hair and kissing the crown of her head.

She sighed, a huge grin breaking out on her face. "You're such a yummy human. Now I know why I like you so much."

Giles shook his head, chuckling. "You like me?"

She pulled her head from his chest staring up at him. "I love you. Thought that went without saying."

"Say it anyway," Giles answered, brushing his lips to hers. "And don't go there, all right?"

Anya sighed. "All right. I'll just take a peek."



Buffy dove into the middle of the pack of Vampires with reckless abandon. Spike could barely keep track of the blinding flash of blonde hair and the streak of her tan jacket in the moonlight. He dove in behind her, absolutely certain that they shouldn't be approaching them like this, but knowing that if he didn't back her up, she was liable to get herself killed.

There were eight, all told. Many of them older. Two were fledglings. She went after them first. Good tactics, Spike thought. Take out the weak and then move in for the stronger. That way some pesky fledgling doesn't clean your clock as you're standing their panting from the big battle. Spike fought his way through behind her, punching and kicking and pushing until he could see her again.

But what he saw wasn't her.

Buffy had knocked both of the young ones on the ground and was standing, one tiny booted foot on each of them. She had leaned forward, extending her reach, and was pummeling them both, beating the life, or the unlife, out of them with her fists. It took Spike a second to grasp it. To realize the difference. Except possibly to him, she'd never been cruel to her prey. She'd never treated them as prey. She fought as much as she had too to stake the creature and put it out of its misery. Buffy had never been one for the pain.

Until now.

Blood spattered from the mouths of both fledglings as Spike fended off the older Vampires, trying to stay alive enough to bring her back. "Buffy?" He called out, tossing punches that were almost lethal, but only knocking the older Vampires away from him enough to move forward. "Buffy?"

She crouched low, looking almost feral and turned her head at the sound. Buffy's eyes glinted in the moonlight, a strange eerie glow that hadn't been there before. She smiled, her teeth not quite fangs, but whiter, longer than before. Spike shuddered at the sight.

"Buffy, just kill them! They've got a sodding girl with them. Human. No time to waste beating them senseless," Spike stammered, trying to recover from the sight of her spattered in blood and gleaming at him in the dark of night.

"Don't think they had much sense to begin with," Buffy quipped, plunging the stake into one heart and then the other. She disappeared behind a shadow of dust.

A left hook took Spike down. It was a sucker punch coming almost from behind, but the effect was the same. Vampires didn't fight fair. He would be the first one to tell someone that. The dirt and grass were cool against his cheek as he hit the dirt.

A primal scream filled his ears and he lifted his head, shaking the stars and cartoon birds from his vision. There she was, taking on the Vampire who had taken him down, screaming, teeth bared, battering the creature with all she had and a bit more. Spike pulled himself to his knees, grabbing the stake that had rolled from his hand and jumped up, joining her in the fray.

There had been six. Six adult Vampires. Two of which, Spike sensed, were older than he. Strong Vampires. Not the kind that usually spent their nights haunting Sunnydale. That, in and of itself, would have been cause for concern, but there was more to worry about tonight. The little blonde whirlwind fighting beside him. Yes, she was still defending the good. Yes, she was still fighting by his side. But what was once grace and poetry was now fists and fangs. Her body was a weapon. And she reveled in it. Joyously giggling at every punch she threw. Every kick that sent a creature skittering across the grass. Ever drop of blood she could force them to bleed before she finally put them out of their misery.

Spike had mercifully dusted all but the one that she had been fighting with. The oldest of the pack. He was strong, but she was angry and happy and full of a rage that she had no clue how to control. Her punch landed on the Vampire's temple, knocking it to the ground. Buffy pounced like a jungle cat onto its prey and straddled the creature's chest. She could have staked him then. But instead, she leaned forward, whispering something into its ear that made his eyes grow wide. She righted herself, and then plunged the stake into its heart.

Spike stood, watching in horror, wondering if this is what she had seen. If this is what she had thought when they had done battle. If this is why she couldn't bring herself to love him right away. It shouldn't have bothered him. He had a patent on that kind of fight. That kind of violence without torture. But coming from her, it was just wrong.

She knelt on the ground in her victim's dust and turned, smiling. "That was fun," she purred, pushing herself to her feet.

Spike walked towards her cautiously, not sure if she had gotten it all out. If she was done with the pummeling for the evening. Not that he cared. Wouldn't have been the first time they'd fought to the pain. But bigger things were on his mind. Control. She was taking on his demon, but where he'd had over a century to tame it, make it work to his advantage, she had one day. One long, frightening day.

What happens if she gets hungry? Spike thought.

"What did you say to him, Pet?" He asked, sensing her spirit still inside this tainted shell in front of him. She was calming, her heart slowing.

Buffy smiled and her teeth were still white and shining in the moonlight. "That was between me and It."

"I see," Spike said, choosing to drop it for now. "Sure you won't tell? Seemed to scare the fangs off of him."

Buffy sighed. "You're no fun. I told him that I'd send him to hell, where he belonged. Where all of them belonged."

The words shook Spike. He had become more human in the past half a decade, but he was still a Vampire. Still one of them. "Buffy, is that what you really think?"

Her brow furrowed, her eyes glittering up at him. "Is what what I really think?"

"That all Vampires belong in hell," Spike said, moving towards the mausoleum. He watched her sniff the air, noticing the whimpering girl curled against the brick wall. Slowly, she stalked towards her, scenting her, dropping to her knees at the girl's feet. Spike watched as Buffy ran her face just millimetres from the girl's skin, as if inhaling her taste, then ran a smooth pink tongue over the girl's wounds. He shuddered in horror.

"Buffy!" He grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, picking her up like an errant pup and spinning her towards him. "You should run now," Spike said to the girl. The hapless teen struggled to her feet and then scampered off into the moonlight.

"No fun," Buffy repeated, her eyes now exploring his face with the same feral look that she had worn since the fight began.

Spike took her pretty face between his hands. "Buffy? Listen, Pet."

"Okay," she drew out, her nose nuzzling his neck, her tongue tracing the pulse point at the base. He took her shoulders and pushed her away.

"Love," he whispered, taking her face again. "This spell. It's changing you. Don't want you to do anything you'd regret, all right? You're going to have to listen to me."

Buffy closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his voice. "Okay," she sighed. "What do I do?"

"We need to get you home, Love. Suss out what's going on." He stroked her hair as he spoke, feeling her starting to quiver in his arms. She was remembering. The spell was backing down. Buffy was coming back. But still, her eyes were squeezed tight.

"Spike," she whispered, her breath catching as she began to cry. "God,"

"S'alright, Pet. No harm," he whispered, fighting his own fear. "Just need to control it. I'll help you. You'll be right as rain."

Her eyes flickered open again and they were hers. Green and brilliant and sweet. "Spike, God, I'm so hungry."

To be contd.

Title: Righteous (Chapter Eighteen of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Buffy and Spike patrol and realize that Buffy's situation is progressing. Anya, Tara, Willow and Takina start on their mission to discovery Draconius's plan and receive some help from a junior Scooby. Xander finds out that there is a secret plot of which he seems to be the only one not in the know.

Righteous
"You've got to learn to control it, Pet," Spike breathed, his arms wrapped tight around her shaking form. She clung to his waist, her head buried in his chest, deep, wracking breaths making her entire body shudder.

"I.I don't want to have to control it," Buffy muttered. Her voice was as shaky as her body. "I want it to stop. To go. Do something."

Spike stroked her hair, never letting up on the pressure of his arm around her. "We'll sort it out, Love. But until then, you can't let it run rampant in you. Gotta control it. Gotta make it work for you."

Buffy's eyes darted up and caught in his. Hers were normal again. Human. Sweet. Afraid. "Spike, what if. what if this never stops?" A sob caught in her throat.

He sighed, pulling her impossibly closer. "Cross that bridge when we come to it, Love. I'll show you. Teach you how to control it."

She nodded, her body still shaking under his strong arms. "What.what do I do with all this.all this.rage? And the bloodlust? Where'd that come from?" It was the best she could do. She mustered a smile.

Spike returned her gesture in kind, letting her go enough to brush her hair from her face. She was Buffy again, but that feral being was right under the surface. What scared him most was that part of him was horrified by it. And part of him was completely aroused. He wasn't sure if it was the part of him that had taken on Buffy that was disgusted or excited, but he was starting to think she might be a bit of both when she looked at him like that. When she saw his beast. "You can't become the scourge of Sunnydale, Pet. Undermine the whole chosen one image, you would."

She chuckled, pushing herself half a step away, but keeping her hands pressed against him. Buffy felt as if she might lose it again without the feel of his heart under her fingertips. The sounds of his breath. "No scourging. Cutting bloody swaths through Sunnydale is definitely not of the good."

"No, Pet," Spike agreed with a soft nod of the head. "It's not."

She turned on a heel, facing away, her hands still finding a way to keep holding onto him. His wrist was clutched in her hand. "So, what do I do with it, Spike?"

Spike moved in behind her, pressing his chest hard to her back. "You've got a few choices, Love."

"What.how. what works for you? How did you go all that time when. when you were a Vampire.? I mean a not breathing, heartbeat-y Vampire. and not feed? Not.kill things?" Buffy asked, still looking away. It was too hard to look at him. To let him see what she was becoming.

"Well," Spike whispered, brushing her hair away and looping it behind her ear. He spoke so that his lips brushed against the delicate shell of her earlobe with every word. "Started by eating pig's blood and feeling sorry for myself. Not much for the bloodlust when one is brooding."

She chuckled, letting her back fall against his chest. Spike pulled her in closer, his lips still caressing her ear with every syllable. "After that, realized that I could kill demons. Put us on the same side. Didn't care much. Just wanted the violence."

Buffy nodded, her eyes slipping closed. "I get that. I mean now."

"I know," Spike said softly, almost regretfully. He took a deep breath, bringing himself back in control. "Then there was you."

A quiet smile broke across Buffy's face. "What about me?"

"First off, right fine fighter you are. A good round with you'd shore up the rage for a week or two." Buffy chuckled, letting one hand snake behind her and her palm falling on the nape of his neck.

"So, we could fight?" Buffy questioned, knowing he had more to say. Feeling him press his jeans against hers and understanding that a good battle or bloodletting wasn't the only way to satisfy the beast.

"We could," Spike purred, his teeth nipping the edge of that delicate ear. "See, after a few long, tense years, I also realized that a righteous shag would do the trick as well."

A laugh escaped her throat, making her whole body shake against his, letting all the right parts rub against each other. She felt it start, low and tight in her belly. "Righteous, hunh?"

"Not just any shag, Pet. Had to be you. Only you. Had to be that sweet combination of rose petals and steel fists, broken beds and little.whispered.words," Spike punctuated each of the last sounds with a kiss, making her body electrify on contact.

"And that worked? I mean, to quell the beast?" Buffy asked, her other hand now searching behind her and finding his denim clad backside under her palm. Oops, she thought as she gave it a squeeze.

Spike chuckled, although it was more of a purr. "Well, wouldn't say it was quelled, but it was certainly tired enough after that it didn't care to rip out the throats of passers-by."

She had no choice but to laugh again, making their bodies that much closer, vibrating with the sound of her giggles echoing under her skin. "So, you think that I should start at the beginning then? Demon slaughter?"

"Passed that test, Love," Spike whispered, his hands now aimlessly wandering along the waist of her jeans, his fingers cool with the night air, skimming her skin like a breeze.

"So, I need to skip to the brawling with you?" She asked, her body now completely on fire by his caresses. His hands slid under her shirt to rest lightly upon her flat belly.

"You could," Spike continued, his fingers relentlessly tracing delicate patterns on the smooth expanse of her torso, working ever closer to the scrap of lace she liked to call a bra.

"Or," Buffy said, her voice low and quiet as that pull in her belly warmed her skin. "I could skip to the righteousness."

"Or any combination thereof," Spike agreed, his mouth working down her neck as if on a mission to meet his hands.

Buffy sighed, her body nearly melting against his. She felt both helpless and utterly powerful against him. Something in her was so grateful. So thankful that he had seen her like he just had and still wanted to be part of her. "You're not all grossed out?" Buffy asked, her voice hesitant for the first time since he'd made contact.

He pushed himself hard against her. "No, Pet," he hummed against the skin of her neck, his tongue flickering over the big pulse. "Not likely."

"So, what do we have to do to make this righteous shagging thing work?" Buffy asked, pushing herself back into him like a giant cat rubbing against his legs. An involuntary moan escaped his lips.

"Think you'll figure it out," Spike answered, lifting her into his arms and carrying her off towards the Crypt. "Trust me?"

"Always," Buffy answered, her eyes serious and light. It was the last thing she said before her lips found his.
Dawn watched them from the staircase. Tara, Willow, and Takina sat in a circle with candles all around them. Anya sat in the center looking amazingly bored. They hadn't started yet. The only reason Dawn could even tell is that nothing weird had happened in the house. That much mojo in that small a space generally caused at least the lights to malfunction, if not the entire electrical system.

"So, what do you think? I mean, the dropping down the rabbit hole bit wasn't that bad.." Willow said, a shy smile breaking on her face. She remembered looking for Spike using a similar spell. It stood to reason the journey would be a lot easier on a demon accustomed to interdimensional travel.

"I don't see why you don't let me just teleport," Anya complained, her hands still on her hips even sitting down. The aggravation played like a cartoon across her features.

"B.because if you teleport using your own power. then we can't anchor you. Giles said." Tara stuttered. She'd always been a little intimidated by the demon. Something about her brazenness.

"Giles this, Giles that. When you gonna learn he's just a *man*!" Anya huffed. "And by nature, all men are wrong." She thought about it a moment. "Although he's less wrong than most, and far yummier and his penis.."

"Ewww, enough!" Willow shouted, squirming. "No penis. Especially no Giles.. Ewwww."

Anya smiled victoriously. There was something about embarrassing the other girls that made her giddy. "All right. So, no teleporting. But the rabbit hole thing." Anya whined, shifting around in the center.

Takina wisely kept her mouth shut. If there was one thing she had learned while in this extended family she had become a part of, it was do not speak about things you don't know more than the others about, and don't try to win a verbal sparring match with any of them. Particularly not Anya.

"Guys?" Dawn said tentatively from the staircase. All eyes fluttered up to her in varying stages of annoyance. The girl cringed.

"What?" Anya asked, still annoyed. "Come to watch me plummet through space as a little ball of light?" She thought again. "Can you even see that from here?"

"No," Willow answered, swinging her head towards the demon and then back at Dawn. "What is it, Dawnie?"

"Uh, Key here?" Dawn contributed. "Open small portals in a single drop?"

Takina smiled, nodding at the girl. Finally, a voice of reason. And to think it came from the youngest of the bunch. "Not bad, Dawn."

Dawn smiled gleefully. "See!"

"That would require blood and I don't know if I want to take my chances with Buffy and/or Spike right now," Willow said softly. "But thanks for the offer."

Dawn's face fell in disappointment. "It only takes a little."

"Dawn," Willow began. Tara touched her arm, nodding softly. If the girl wanted to help, let her help. She thought it loud enough that her lover could hear her.

Willow sighed, looking at Anya. "Portal work for you?"

A big smile lit up Anya's face. "Much, much better. Thank you. Now, can you go through while you're invisible? Rupert said they shouldn't see me."

"I thought you didn't *care* what Giles thought," Tara teased, the softness of her face melting even Anya.

"Well, sometimes," the demon admitted. "And I do have a young son and plan on many more, which means many more rounds of."

"Enough with the visuals!" Willow shrieked, cringing. "Dawnie, who's with the kids?"

"Why do you think I'm down here?" Dawn asked, descending the staircase. "It's like Mr. Mom upstairs. Cyrus has Em and Will, Giles has Randy. Xander's up there with River playing keep away from Spike's son and Oz is trying to entertain them with the wonder that is wolf noises."

"No Buffy or Spike?" Takina asked, looking up at Dawn's smiling face from her perch on the floor.

Dawn shook her head. "Nope. Longish patrol. Either means that the demon population multiplied overnight or they're doing the naked lambada."

"Okay, have I said enough with the visuals?" Willow asked, not that imagining Buffy and Spike together was nearly as traumatic as imagining Giles naked, but still.

Dawn giggled. "Oh, are you so glad you don't live here anymore then."

"Sit. Bleed," Willow joked, moving over and letting Dawn into the circle. Dawn plopped down, grateful to finally be of some sort of help, and rolled up a sleeve.

"So, what does bring you back into town, Oz?" Xander asked, picking up River and moving her three feet further away from Will. It was like Sisyphus trying to roll the boulder up the mountain. Each time he did it, the little boy would find the little girl. This he didn't like. No child of Spike's was going *near* River until at least her. ever.

"Um, work. Life. Spike asked for some help," Oz evaded, chasing Emma around the room on all fours. Emma giggled madly, dodging his swatting paws. Well, what would be paws were it a full moon.

Giles cleared his throat at Oz's answer. Part of him wanted to chuckle. Part wanted to hide. Knowing why Oz was really back was a bit uncomfortable for the Watcher. Knowing that Xander would eventually find out was almost amusing.

Xander shot Giles a glance. He knows something, Xander thought. Something I don't. "Nothing in particular? I mean, Dawn said she heard you guys talking after we left the other night."

Oz continued his chase, never breaking stride. "Nothing particularly particular. Unless you mean specifically particular."

"Good answer. Evasive, but good," Xander snarked, finally giving up and letting River free on the floor. It took about a half a millisecond for her to stumble to Will and fall in a heap next to him, her little head leaned into his good arm.

Cyrus stood. "Shall I make some tea?"

"Might be a good idea," Giles replied. "It looks to be a long night in the making."

Cyrus nodded, glancing at Emma and took his leave. Oz still chased her playfully, his energy almost as boundless as hers. "Just. it's up to Willow to tell you, man."

"Ah ha!" Xander shouted, raising one finger in the air. "So there *is* a big secret that you're keeping from me." His face slackened as he thought about it. A pout broke on his lips, and his words became softer. "That Willow's keeping from me."

Oz stopped, pulling the giggling Emma down on his lap. "No, man. It's not like that. I mean, it's just. It's not a secret like that. Just something she has to figure out how to tell you."

"She told *you* and you haven't been around for years!" Xander countered, trapped firmly between hurt and annoyed.

Giles sighed. "The only reason she has discussed this with Oz and not with you is because Oz is. involved."

The wolf had suspected that Giles knew, but it still made him blush when his suspicions were confirmed. "Well, yeah," he agreed. "And Spike asked me to ."

"Wait. Giles knows? Spike? Who else?" Xander retorted, jumping from his chair and beginning to stalk the room.

Giles pulled off his glasses, wiping them on the edge of Randy's jumper. "Well, Buffy. And of course, Anya. "

"And Tara," Oz contributed, smiling.

Xander's eyes went wide. "And you said Dawn overheard it?"

"Spike kicked her out before she heard the whole thing," Oz comforted, tickling Emma as she giggled on the floor.

"So, Dawn doesn't know.," Xander said relieved. A horrible thought occurred to him. The ultimate betrayal. "Ta..Takina?"

Giles looked at Oz. Oz at Giles. They both shrugged. "Don't think so, Man," Oz finally answered.

Xander paced the room in long circuits, his anger and his hurt bubbling to the surface. "So why? Why didn't she tell me? *What* didn't she tell me?"

"I'm afraid it's up to her to decide when the time is right," Giles answered, shifting Randy in his lap.

Xander shot a pleading look to Oz. "Look, trust me when I say that I'd tell ya if I could. I would. In a second. Maybe half. But it's not mine to tell."

"Willow," Xander said. It was more like a rush of air than a word.

To be contd

Title: Falling into Darkness (Chapter Nineteen of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Anya is delivered to La Maison Rouge by the circle of women. The pawn surveys her opponents. Spike teaches Buffy how to control the beast if for only a moment. But at what price?

Falling into Darkness
Anya felt herself step through the portal and her skin seemed to have stayed behind. She looked down upon herself and saw nothing. It made her feel somehow naked. But not in the good, Rupert and a box of chocolate covered strawberries way. In a bad, if I had skin it might crawl sort of way.

There was a silver tether attached to her, Although she couldn't see her or the tether, she knew it was there. She could *feel* it anchoring her to the rest of them. To Willow, in particular. Anya could feel Willow in her head like a mission control.

"Just see what you can find," the red head's voice spoke into her mind.

"And how am I supposed to do that when I can't find me," Anya snarked, taking a step into the rocky landscape.

"Just try, okay?" "Whoever said I cared all that much about Buffy and Spike to do all this," Anya griped as she began her trek through the endless fields of rocks. The screaming didn't bother her. In fact, it was kind of comforting. It was the fact that feet she could not see were getting bruised by the pebbles. Somewhere, she hoped she didn't get un-invisible because she had a pretty good idea that she was naked.

The voice in her head sighed. "So, you want to see Buffy turn into a Vampire and Spike have to raise their poor little children alone? Ooh, or worse yet, Buffy goes all bumpy, Spike loses his mind, and you and Giles have to raise Emma and Will and Giles says that he can't afford any more kids so you can't go to the spa anymore nor can you have anymore of your own." That'll hit her where it hurt, Willow thought.

Anya sighed to herself. "I would have just done it for Buffy and Spike," she whispered to the air. "I mean, superhero, disgustingly happy types that they are, they still are my friends."

"Oh," Willow muttered into Anya's head.

"What am I supposed to be looking for anyway?" Anya asked, hopping as a sharper rock penetrated her non existent foot.

"Dunno, exactly. Signs of Draconius? Maybe with Luke? Any idea of what they're doing."

"You couldn't have dropped me closer to La Maison Rouge?" Anya grouched as she stopped to look around the barren red world of rocks and death.

"Sorry," Dawn's voice chimed in.

"Oh, that's just great," the demon snarked. "Not only am I invisible and naked in hell, but I have the entire Mickey Mouse Club in my head. I tortured some of them you know?"

"You're naked?" Willow asked. Tara nudged her with a patient smile. "I mean, we sent you visible but without clothes."

Anya let out a huge sigh. "No, ,my lesbian friend. I am *both* invisible and naked, thank you very much. But we'll talk about that when I get back. Now cut the crap and tell me where I am.."
The woman moved from her hiding place in the shed and crept along the tree line until she could find a dark patch near the house. She knew she didn't want to be seen, but the interior of the abode was lit up as if it were evening rush, not three am. It was odd.

Slowly, she made her way to the side, her body pressed along the siding of the house. She didn't want to be seen from the road or from inside. She wasn't sure why. Just that it wasn't time they saw her yet. Wasn't time for her to play.

Something sunk in her heart, or what she thought was her heart, as she stood up on her tip toes and looked inside the window. There were three men in there. She recognized them all, but something low and feral in her belly recognized the eldest of them. Something wicked and kind all at once.

In his lap was a baby. Horrid little screaming things, some alien part of her said. But the remnant of her heart felt warm and alive looking at the man leaning back in the chair with the small child sprawled against his chest. They were both asleep. Didn't matter. She didn't know them anyway.

There were two other men. They had been here before. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Except last time, there weren't any of the little loud people. Well, what had been little loud people. Now they were just little people. The two younger men were back to the window, watching television. An older child, blonde and so very familiar was stretched between them, her head resting on a pillow and her forehead pressed to one of the men's arms. As if touching someone was a comfort. Thing didn't know any better. There was no comfort in others. There was no comfort. Only emptiness and torture and death.

There were two smaller children curled around each other like feral kittens on the couch. One light haired. One dark. The light haired boy was the one with the yellow arm. The one that she recognized before. The eerie familiarity of them all was unnerving, but especially with him. She wanted to care. She wanted to know. But she couldn't. She couldn't be bothered. So, she watched. And thought. And felt the bracelet grow warm against her arm and bring her eyes back to the eldest child.

Pretty little girl. That was the one she was after. All sweetness and light and beauty. Horrid, stupid little girl. Dead. Or whatever the woman's master wanted. It wasn't up to her. Still, that strange familiarity bothered her. At least now she knew. Now she knew why she was in this cold, awful place.

Her.

The little, blonde, ball of light, curled on the floor. She was meant to take it away. Make it gone. She wanted that to seem wrong but it didn't. So she watched.
"You feeling any better, Pet?" Spike asked, rolling over stiffly on the carpet. His body was a mass of bruises and possibly a broken bone or two, but nothing major. It had been worth every second.

She hummed her response, still prone on the floor, her arms stretched out over her head and one beautiful leg cocked out to the side.

"Take that as a yes," he answered, a wicked grin breaking on his face. His hands trailed the length of her stretched torso. She looked none the worse for wear. He'd wondered if that is what it had been like before. When they..when she had been the one coming to him here. Taking him. If she had been as bruised as he was and he was stretched out like the cat that ate the canary. It made him tense.

The same thought wandered through her mind as she turned her head on a neck now as limp as a spaghetti noodle and took in the sight of his body. He was beautiful and pale in the candle light, but she could see the outlines of where her hands had choked his neck. Where her fists had made contact against his ribs. Where her nails had clawed bloody trails down his chest. She breathed, but it was more just a sharp intake of air. Is this what he could have done to her but didn't?

Buffy's hand shook as she reached out, tracing the raging bruises on his ribs. "Spike." she breathed, her mind full of regret. The beast was gone now, but she felt it right below the surface. Waiting. "S'alright, Love," Spike answered, taking her wrist and steadying her hand. "Vampire. Heal up nicely."

"Did I.," Buffy breathed, her fingers running up and down the claw marks. He winced involuntarily. So did she.

Spike's eyes closed, taking in a deep breath. "Not like it wasn't pleasant for me as well. You know I've always liked a little pain chaser."

She sat up, searching for a sheet to cover herself but finding nothing. Her eyes were huge and afraid. He felt it boil inside of her. That fear. She needed to believe this wasn't real. That she could control it. But she couldn't. At least, not without . this. first. "Spike."

She looked so small and cold with her knees drawn to her chest, her arms hugging them tighter as if her legs might drop away if she didn't hold them there. Spike scanned the room, finding a blanket and standing to retrieve it. The crypt was cold in the late December air, but that wasn't what was making her shiver. It was this.

Buffy took the blanket willingly; wrapping it around her shoulders and cuddling it close, as if it was all that attached her to the world. Spike looked at her with sad blue eyes, brushing hair from her face. "Little chilly out here, Pet. Mind if I share?"

She shook her head silently, still staring at the bruises on his beautiful chest. He took the blanket from her, wrapping it around his back and pulling her into his lap, closing it in front of her. Buffy trembled against him, her body cold to the touch. It was worse now. And her fear would bring back the beast if he couldn't calm her.

"Buffy, you didn't hurt me, Love. Wouldn't have let you. Strengths haven't changed. Just roles," Spike comforted, his arms wrapping tighter around him, pressing her against his warm, naked body. Hoping it would warm her own again.

"But I tried," she whispered, almost too quietly to hear.

He kissed her cheek softly. "No, Love. Weren't trying to hurt me. Just got a bit carried away in the moment is all. Not the first time we've banged each other up a bit."

Buffy was silent a long moment. "You could have.. Back before. When this all started with us. You could have hurt me like I hurt you. Couldn't you?"

Spike thought of the right way to answer it. "Didn't exactly let you off the hook easy either, Pet. Seem to remember you leaving her a few nights with a bruise or two."

"Not like this," Buffy answered her voice distant. "I.I don't.I don't remember."

"Don't remember what, Love?" Spike asked. He chuckled in the silence. "You telling me that a round with your worse half is no longer even memorable?"

It brought a smile to her face, if just for a moment. "No, stupid. You're always.memorable." She was quiet, trying to relax back into his chest. She wanted to fall into him. To let him in her mind and to let herself into his and find that which was theirs together. But she was afraid. Terrified that this would change that. Afraid that if she let him in, he'd see her darkness. "But I don't remember. I don't remember hurting you."

"Wasn't arguing the point," Spike responded, burying his face in her hair. "Don't mind it rough."

She turned, straining to look at him. "You don't mind playing rough. You never hurt me. Not like this." She thought for a second, watching his face darken. "Did I say. did I say anything when I was hurting you?"

He cringed, remembering the words coming out of her mouth. Horrible, feral words. Words about sex and violence and his meaning in her life. It reminded him of being her walking sex toy before Emma was born. She rode him into oblivion but it didn't mean a thing. Spike knew that wasn't the case now. Knew in his heart that his Buffy, his love, was still in there. The girl who could break his body with her strength and mend it with her tenderness. The tenderness had just gone missing for the night. "Nothing, Pet," Spike answered. He lied.

"You're lying," she sighed, turning away from him again. "I did."

"Nothing important, Love. I know that it's not you then. it's me. My demon. And you don't know how to control it," Spike whispered, reeling her back against him. She had tried to scoot as far away as she could without losing the blanket. He wouldn't let her. Couldn't let this tear them apart. He felt their connection fading and he couldn't, he *wouldn't* let that happen.

Spike felt her hitch as the first tear streamed down her face. "Spike, I don't know what to do." she whispered softly, her arms drawn tight against her chest.

He pulled her impossibly closer. "I won't lose you, Buffy. I won't let it take you. You know that. You have to trust me."

She turned to face him again, eyes glittering with unshed tears. "How.how do I control it?"

Spike smiled softly. "You're you now, right, Love?" He asked, pushing her hair behind her ear. "My girl?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"So, I guess the righteous shag worked," he snarked, a sly smile painting his lips.

Buffy returned it a moment, but it faded like magic ink. "But not without a price." She turned her face away. He grabbed her chin with his hand and turned her face back to his.

"One that I am willing to pay. I would pay any price to keep you. You know that," he stressed, his eyes so serious and so full of love.

Buffy thought for a moment. "I know," she finally relented. She was silent for a long moment. "Do you think that we can make this stop?"

He nodded, silently. "I do. I think we can beat anything. Just have to keep it in check while the rest sort it out."

"All right," Buffy sighed, trying to calm herself. She leaned back into his chest, feeling his warmth. Letting that part of him that adored her back into her mind. It calmed her, filling her with the scent or warm apples and cinnamon and the spice of his skin. She sighed again.

A thought struck her like a tidal wave and she jumped. "Emma!"

The way she said it made Spike's own heart leap. "What is it, Buffy? Something happen?"

"No," she answered, her body quaking, but her voice calming. "But what if I. what if.." Her voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "What if I lose control around them?"

Spike thought for a moment, pulling her closer. Wanting to protect her from that which lay beneath. "Are you afraid that you will hurt them?"

She spun, her face inches from his, full of terror and anger and frustration. "I would never hurt them. Not on purpose. You know that, right?"

"Of course, Pet," Spike whispered, planting soft kisses on her shoulder. "You're a perfect mum to them."

"But I would never hurt you on purpose either. Not anymore. And. I did." The last words were hushed, shaking in the air like leaves in the wind.

Spike held her closer. "What do you want me to do, Pet?"

"Keep them safe, Spike," Buffy whispered, burying her head in his shoulder. "Don't let me hurt them."

"You won't, Love," he answered, pulling him to her, cradling her like she was a child herself.

She sobbed a moment, clinging to him, and then turned her gaze up to meet his, her eyes suddenly resolute. "I want you to kill me if I do. Kill me if I try."

Spike's eyes grew wide, his heart racing and sinking and his stomach doing flip flops. "Buffy?" His voice shook and sounded foreign even to him.

Her hand reached up to cup his cheek. "Spike, they're the ones that deserve saving. If I try to hurt them.. Emma. She's. The World will suffer without her."

"The bloody *World* would suffer without *you*," Spike spit out, trying to control his anger. "You, Love. You *are* my world. I won't let you hurt them, but I am *not* going to kill you."

Buffy swallowed, her other hand finding his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "Spike, if I hurt them. If for no other reason, then I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't look at you. I can't think that I'd." Her eyes spilled huge silver tears. "Please."

He melted under her wet, beautiful eyes. Spike understood that. Knowing that something would be too much to bear. Too much to live with. But he wouldn't let it happen. Never. Slowly, he nodded. "All right, Love. But I will *never* let you hurt them. And I won't let you leave me. Never. All right?"

Buffy nodded, burying her head in his shoulder once more. Something in her head wondered how many moments of this she had left. How many times would she feel like her and be able to find solace in his arms? Fear took her. Fear that she would soon be lost to the darkness. It wasn't that that scared her most. It was losing him. Losing them. Sinking into oblivion and never feeling his arms around her and never knowing her children's kisses and sweetness again.

Falling into the dark alone.

Spike felt her pull her mind away and pulled her closer. "You have to stay with me, Pet. Can't fight this unless you stay with me. Gotta let me help."

She let her head drop onto his shoulder once again. "Don't let me go away."

"I won't, Love," Spike answered, raining desperate kisses on her face. "Never let you go."

To be contd.

Next