Title: To Get The Fire Back.

Summary: A/U after Pangs, set after season 6. Spike has disappeared for ten years, and when Angel finally finds him in LA..he's very different. He lacks fire.Will Buffy be able to help him? S/B

A/N-The Summary doesn't do it justice. Just read it, and you'll see. How can I summarize it when I barely know what it's about? It is AU after Pangs, all of the MAJOR events happen, but Buffy and Spike's relationship was drastically different.

Disclaimer: None of it's mine, blah blah blah.

Rated R For: profanity, violence, and implied sexual situations.

Prologue

He couldn't remember the sound of his own voice. This disturbed him, vaguely. He remembered Giles' upper-class accent, and Dawn's warm, honeyed voice, and the Slayer's icy yet sweet voice, like strawberry ice cream. But he couldn't remember his, and it never occurred to him to actually say something. He remembered he was from England. Which part? It hardly mattered anymore. Did he sound like he was from England? Did he have an accent like Giles?

He remembered their voices, and their laughter, but he couldn't remember their faces. Dawn had blonde hair, or was that Buffy? Maybe both, they were sisters after all. At least, he thought they were sisters, but he had a niggling suspicion that they weren't related at all. Was Giles their father? Did it matter anymore?

He knew there should be other people in his memories of the Hellmouth. Where was the Hellmouth? Sunny something. They danced on the peripheries of his memory, red hair and green eyes, and lame jokes and big hands. And who were they? Did they even exist?

Were they still alive? No...humans didn't live this long? Did they? He didn't know anymore, maybe they did now. Maybe they weren't humans at all. He remembered the way Buffy fought-well, he remembered he admired the way she fought. She was definitely human, warm, passionate, vanilla and chocolate and bursts of golden light. Therefore her friends must have been too.

Spike was tired..just tired. He still fought every night, like the Slayer, but he didn't remember why he fought. Most of the time he didn't even realize what he was doing. The other half he seemed to watch the punches, kicks, stakings, beheadings, and stabbings as if he were a detached observer, showing only a disdainful interest. But he fought and he didn't know why.

And some nights he cried and he didn't know why. Silent, broken sobs that left him drained and tired. He felt broken. And old. How old was he? The world hadn't changed so much, and it was difficult for him to mark the passing years without a reference point. There was no constant in his life except the killing. The killing, night after night, the killing. That never stopped. It was infinite, the killing, and he wondered sometimes, did he kill the Slayer? Did he kill her sweet sister? He just didn't know. He didn't think so, but one never could tell. He could barely remember them, much less what happened to them.

He could barely remember who he was. Spike, his name was Spike. And William. He had two names, and sometimes he didn't know which to answer to. But that was never really an issue because nobody every called for him.

No talking, no laughing, no singing, no love, no hate. He just existed, somewhere, alone. Alone.

On some of his more lucid days, he worried a great deal. He felt as though he should go back to the Hellmouth, if he could ever find it. He felt as though he was needed, that there was something or someone for him there. He just had to find his way again. At these times, he would panic and become frantic. But he didn't know what to do, and so eventually his determination to get back would whither and hibernate.. it never quite died. But he didn't know where he was, so how was he supposed to figure out where he was going.

Stake a vampire. Poof.

Oh. He was fighting. Ok, he looked around to see if he was fighting anybody else, but there were only piles of dust at his feet. Would he turn to dust when he died? Of course he would, that's what vampires do. But he felt human. It was the soul. Sometimes, in those lucid moments, Spike suspected that the confusion, the inability to do anything, to go home, was the soul's fault. It was hurting his head somehow.

That's why he didn't know his real name (Spike? William?) anymore. The soul was there, blanking everything else out, but how on Earth did a vampire get a soul? And why? He didn't know.

He knew one thing though, knew it for certain. This was torment. This existence and non-existence, being and not being. This was hell. Whatever he had done, he was sure he deserved it. But he didn't know how much longer he could last before he went for a walk into that enticing golden light, so much like the Slayer..He would probably go when he forgot her voice. If he forgot her, what possible reason could he have for existing?

Chapter 1.

"Spike, can you hear me?" Angel spoke loudly and slowly, hoping that this time there would be a reaction from the other, disheveled vampire. But Spike didn't respond. He never responded.

Buffy frowned, "What's wrong with him?"

Angel shrugged, "I really don't know."

"Why don't you tell me how you found him?" Buffy was torn between curiosity and disgust and hate and pity. God, this..this blank, sightless vampire sitting there surely wasn't her Spike?

'Since when has be been yours?' An inner-voice asked. 'Since forever,' her heart answered, and she sighed aloud.

"We were out, fighting a large gang of vampires. Suddenly, he appears out of nowhere. Gunn was going to stake him, and I was going to let him, until he started killing the vamps, single-handedly. When he was done, he turned around, and kept walking. He ignored us completely, so we followed him."

Spike twitched slightly, and mechanically reached out for the mug of blood that Angel had sat beside him nearly an hour earlier. He drank it in one gulp and gently set the mug down. His eyes never moved.

"Anyway, we kept an eye on him, and realized he had a routine. About three hours after sunset he would show up, dust as many vamps as he could within three hours, and then return to where ever he was holing up," Angel explained.

"Does he still do that?"

Angel nodded and looked at the clock. "He should be heading out in about 15 minutes. But Buffy..you should see the way he fights."

"What do you mean?"

"He fights like a robot, his expression completely blank. But every once in awhile, his face will clear and he'll look surprised, like he didn't realize he was fighting."

"Why did you call me?"

"Spike overheard us when we were discussing what to do with him. I mentioned your name, and he actually smiled. Since it's the only reaction.."Angel shrugged. "We didn't know what else to do. Buffy, why would he smile for you?"

It was a legitimate question, made perfect sense. Angel didn't know that the only thing Spike ever smiled for was her. Angel didn't know that Spike stopped smiling because of her. Angel didn't know anything.

"It's..it's a long story. Can we talk about it later?" Buffy said softly. Angel nodded. Both of them looking at the vampire who stared at the wall past them. Buffy lapsed into her own memories. Had it really been ten years since he walked out? Since she let him go? What had happened to him in those ten years? He looked broken. Did she break him.

"Do you want anything to eat or anything?"

"I'll have a glass of water," Buffy said quietly. She wasn't thirsty, but she wanted a second alone with Spike without Angel hovering over her shoulder. When Angel left the room, Buffy kneeled in front of Spike and gently stroked his cheek. "Where ya been, Blondie?"

Only his hair wasn't blonde anymore. It was a honey brown, long, and very dirty. Obviously showering wasn't part of his daily routine. His clothes were clean, but that was because Angel had got him some new ones. Apparently whatever he was wearing before stunk something awful. Spike didn't respond to her question. She continued to rub his face gently.

"Oh Spike, what did you do? What happened.."

**** "..here?" Buffy demanded angrily.

Spike shrugged, "I had an accident."

"This doesn't look like an accident, Spike. It looks like you destroyed Giles house."

"Well, I didn't mean to destroy his house," Spike said defensively, "I was just redecorating."

"Who said you could redecorate? And who said you could be untied?"

Spike looked slightly sheepish, "Supernatural strength, Slayer. I got tired of being tied up so," he held his hands out, "I'm not tied up anymore."

Buffy sighed, "Well, we're going to have to fix that."

"No, no," Spike insisted, "I'll be good."

"Spike, it's too late for that. Look at this mess!"

Spike obediently looked around Giles' trashed living room. "Ok, I admit, it doesn't look good. But I'll clean it up."

"Oh, I know you will. Because if you don't, Giles will have to sweep you up before he puts his house back together," Buffy's voice was cold and serious. Spike immediately set to work.

"Aren't you going to help, Slayer?"

"No, Spike. I'm going to watch." She perched on the couch, once Spike righted it, and twirled her stake lazily.

He leered at her, "You like to watch Slayer? Kinky."

"Less talk, Chippy, more work."

They were silent for several minutes as Spike dusted up the broken glass under Buffy's watchful eye. She sighed and wondered what he had broken.. no matter how much Spike cleaned, Giles would still have a conniption when he got home. She doubted she'd be able to stop her watcher from staking his undead ass.

Of course, she was forced to wonder why she even cared if Giles staked his undead ass. She'd never admit it out loud, but she was kinda starting to like the blonde menace..in an annoying, I'm going to kill him kind of way.

"Giles is going to kill you, you know," Buffy said conversationally as she watched Spike carefully replace his bottles of scotch. Most of them were nearly empty. The floor wasn't wet, so Buffy was left to believe that Spike had finished them off himself. Yep, Giles would freak.

"Good," Spike muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, still twirling the stake.

"I said good Slayer!"

"You wanna die Spike?"

"Yeah."

Buffy frowned. That didn't sound like Spike. He agreed to be tied up in the bathtub specifically because he didn't want to die. His sense of self- preservation was so strong tht he turned to his mortal enemies for help. Now he was willing to give up.

"Why?"

Spike paused and looked at her like she had grown a second head. "Because," he said slowly, "I can't hunt, can't feed, can't kill, and apparently, I can't even make a mess without being forced to clean it up."

Buffy nodded in sympathy, "The Big Bad is reduced to the Kind of Naughty."

Spike growled, "Shut up. I don't need to hear it from you. I should be ripping your throat out."

Buffy laughed, "Yeah."

"It's not funny Slayer."

The smiled didn't leave her face, "Of course not. Never said it was."

Spike sighed, "So where's your gang of losers."

"Out," She said, her smile suddenly gone.

"Huh?"

"They all have dates tonight."

Spike's frown disappeared as quickly as Buffy's smile had. "Really? So you're left all alone huh?"

Buffy shrugged, "I don't mind."

"No more school boys for you?"

"Shut up Spike."

"I can't say I blame them," he continued, "you probably broke the last one."

"Spike." her voice held a very serious warning, but Spike pressed on anyway. What did he care?

"It's ok. Mortal boys are so weak. And disappointing. He probably lasted what? 10, 15 minutes tops?" Spike smirked, "You need a real man. One that won't run out on you in the morning."

Buffy paused..it was closer to 7 or 8. Parker was a jerk and bad in bed. And Angel..

"Hit a nerve there, Slayer?" Spike asked when she didn't respond.

"Spike, just shut up." All of a sudden Buffy was very, very tired. She had been extremely lonely since Angel left. She put on a brave face and didn't cry anymore, but he was more than just her boyfriend. He was her best friend. She was so lonely that she was seriously beginning to think about going out with Riley, even though he was kind of boring. But normal.

Spike finished cleaning the kitchen, and slowly approached Buffy. She didn't seem to notice him though. He knew she was thinking about Angel. He wanted her to think about Angel. He wanted her to be in as much pain as he was. She deserved it, the bitch, walking around here all high and mighty, threatening him and.Jesus fuck, was that a tear?

"Got something in your eye?" Spike asked casually, still moving towards her slowly.

She blinked furiously, "Yeah, piece of dust."

"Uh huh."

"Take another step, and I'll have a whole faceful of dust."

"You don't mean it Buffy," his voice was soft now, deep, almost resonating inside of her. Did she mean it? God, she didn't know.

"How do you know?" Her voice was calm, sure.

"Cuz you want me to do this," Spike said, reaching out and gently stroking her cheek. His touch was feather light, almost like a breath of air.

"No, I really don't." But she didn't shy away from his fingers.

"Yes," his voice was a whisper now and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face, "you really do."

Did he want to kiss her next? He looked like he wanted to kiss her. Would she let him? God, was she moving closer to him? This was insane, he couldn't do this. She wouldn't let him. Yep, any second now she was going to pull away, but his mouth just got closer and closer to hers and her mouth was dry..and Giles burst into his house.

"What the hell did you do Spike?"

Buffy jumped up, guiltily, but Spike just took a step back with an air of nonchalance.

"He got free," Buffy explained lamely.

"How?"

"He just.."

****

".got up and walked away," Buffy announced.

"Did you try to stop him?" Angel asked.

"No, I wanted to follow him."

"Ok, let's go."

They followed him down dark, deserted streets. They watched him fight, never helping or getting in his way. They were afraid he would stake Angel by mistake. Buffy was rather disturbed by what she saw. He was a killing machine. That's all. Fight, fight, stake, move on. There was no fire, no passion, no real purpose.

Spike had always been a very passionate fighter. He was in his element, came alive, so to speak. Spike was passionate in everything he did, of course, but fighting was something special. Beautiful. Warm. But now it was cold and ugly. These deaths were so detached, so without purpose, that Buffy felt a little sick over it.

"How long does he do this?" Buffy asked finally.

Angel shrugged, "He should be done within the hour."

"He only fights vampires?"

"If he runs into a demon he'll take it out, but he only searches for vamps."

"Humans?"

"Doesn't even see them."

"Well, that's something."

"Yeah."

Spike suddenly turned on his heal and headed back to Angel's hotel. "Guess it's time to go home," Buffy said wryly.

As they walked, Spike about 5 yards a head of them, they discussed what they should do with him.

"We could just let him alone."

"What do you mean?"

"He's helping us, and he's not hurting anybody," Angel pointed out, "Why does he need to change."

"Because he's broken Angel."

"When he's fixed, Buffy, he's a killer. Cold hearted murderer."

"No," Buffy said softly. "He's cold hearted right now. Spike has..

*** "Fire." Spike announced.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Fire. Why don't you just use fire."

Buffy frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"Fire bomb Adam's cave. It won't kill him, but it'll ruin all his pretty toys."

"How do you know about his evil toys?"

Spike shrugged but didn't answer. Buffy regarded him suspiciously. Ever since their almost kiss, Spike had been helpful, in his own evil way. He'd ignore them for hours, days even, and then out of nowhere announce a plan. Most of the time his plans weren't bad.

"Xander, do you think we could get some grenades?"

Xander shrugged, "I could try. If you really want to, though do you really think you can trust any of his plans?"

Buffy sighed, frustrated. "His plan is to melt.uh Spike, what are we melting?"

"Computers mostly."

"Ok, his plan is to melt computers with big balls of fire. What's to trust?"

"But how will that stop him?" Xander demanded.

Spike shrugged, "It'll definitely put a crimp or a dozen in his plans."

"Great," Buffy announced, "And since it's your idea, you can come with me tonight and do some recon."

"Ok."

That was another thing. He didn't argue very much either. That was fine by her. It's not like she wanted to argue with him, right? It's not like their arguments made her heart beat faster and her palms sweaty, and her stomach tingle.

"We'll leave now."

"Weren't you going on a date with Riley tonight?" Willow asked, and Spike grimaced.

"Oh..yeah. Well, tell him that I'll meet him later in the Bronze. He'll understand. Come on Spike."

Well, she hoped Riley would understand. Lately had been slightly touchy about how much she had patrolled. Ok, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she had been patrolling with Spike. But to be fair, that wasn't exactly her idea. Giles had insisted that she get him out of the house to work off some energy. Riley didn't understand why she kept protecting the vampire from the Initiative. Honestly, neither did Buffy.

They were in the middle of Shady Rest cemetery, Buffy deep in thought about Riley, when she felt herself being pushed against the side of a crypt. Her back pressed into the cold, concrete wall, damp from an earlier rainstorm. Her first reaction was to fight, to push Spike away from her and maybe drive a stake through his heart when he motioned for her to be quiet. Thinking they were in some sort of danger, she stilled her struggles. He applied more pressure, keeping her pinned with his arm.

"What? Is something coming?" Buffy whispered.

Spike smiled, "Nothing coming, Slayer. Not yet."

"What?" Spike was close now, just a few inches from her face. His body was pressed against hers, and part of her liked it. He was hard and cool, his skin stretched tight against muscles coiled with tension. It felt good to feel her enemy, feel his strength. She always delighted in Angel's strength when they were together, and she kind of missed that. The slight danger, and the equality. "Your chip?"

"I'm not hurting you Slayer." His free hand traced her arm. "Am I?"

She shook her head. She knew she could push him away at any time, and this knowledge allowed her to relax slightly.

"What do you want Spike?"

"What you want."

"What's that?"

His face filled her vision. God his eyes were so blue. He was going to kiss her. Finally. Wait..finally? Whatever, it didn't matter, because now his lips were almost touching her, and she could smell him, and he smelt really good. And was she really going to allow the evil, undead vampire to kiss her? Was she really going to like it? There was time, she could stop him.

Oh, but she couldn't, because his lips touched hers and it felt very, very good. His lips tasted like the cool night, and they weren't harsh or demanding. They were searching and questioning, and Buffy was answering with her lips. On their own accord, her free hand snuck up and began rubbing his chest over his shirt. Slow circles directly above his heart.

Fire. Fire shot through her body. Spike was cold, but he was made of fire. As the kiss deepened, that was one coherent thought that refused to escape. Fire.

***

"Spike's has fire," she repeated. "We need to get it back."

TBC

Chapter 2

"Can you even begin to figure out what's wrong with him?" Angel asked.

Buffy frowned, "No. I haven't seen him in a long time."

"How long?"

Buffy shrugged, "Ten years, give or take. He just left town one night. I didn't bother to try to find him again." Well, that was only a half-lie, which meant it was mostly true.

"Why'd he leave?"

"I don't know." That was a complete lie. A big, fat, lie with teeth and horns. She could see by the look on Angel's face that he was aware of the lie.

"Buffy, please. What happened?"

"Why do you care?" She asked quietly. Why indeed? Just because it had something to do with his former lover and his..what exactly was Spike to Angel? Maybe a better question would have been, what wasn't Spike to Angel?

"That's a hell of a question, Buffy. Because I care about both of you, and I think there is something important you aren't telling me."

Buffy sighed, but she didn't answer immediately. She watched Spike. who was apparently getting read to sleep. He was still fully clothed, but he had stretched out on the bed. Buffy was loath to leave him alone, and so all three of them were in Spike's temporary room. It would be hard to explain it all to Angel, especially when she didn't understand most of it herself. She had acted so differently in those years with Spike than she had when she was a little girl with Angel. Would Angel want to hear about the woman she had become under Spike's watchful eye?

"I wonder what he's thinking about?" Buffy said softly.

Angel sat beside him on the bed. "Maybe nothing."

Buffy took her place on the other side of Spike's prone body. "You didn't clean him. He's all dirty."

Spike started slightly, and then words, thick with age, his voice rusty with disuse, wheezed past his lips. "Vampires are dirty."

"Wait? Spike? What did you say?" Angel asked, leaning closer. But apparently Spike didn't have anything left to say, because his silence remained unbroken. Angel looked up to Buffy, "Did you catch what he said?"

Buffy nodded, "Yeah. Let's get him cleaned up." Her voice and her face didn't betray the tumultuous emotions roaring through her, not the least of which was guilt. "I don't think we can make him shower. Perhaps a sponge bath?"

"Buffy, that's the first time I've heard him speak since we've found him. That's only the second time I've seen him react to anything. Don't try to shrug it off."

"Angel, we can talk about the various philosophical meanings behind 'vampires are dirty' all you want, after we clean this one."

Angel sighed, "Fine, I'll be right back. Do you need help removing his clothes?

Buffy hid a small smile, "Nah, I got it under control."

***

Voices, he heard voices. He could only catch every other word or so. The voices didn't make any sense, but it didn't matter, because the words he did catch were clear and strong. Fresh. Her voice was there. And another's..

This voice, it was wrong. He knew it was wrong. It was flat, an American accent. Not the original brogue he was used to. It was suddenly very important to keep everybody's voice and accents distinct and categorized. It was all he had to go by.

He could also see her face, but it seemed it was from a great distance away. It was older, there were a few wrinkles, but it was the same face. She didn't smile though, and he missed that. He didn't believe, couldn't believe, that she was real though. Nothing was real in this world, except the vampires.

The dirty vampires. He heard her voice again, something about dirty vampires. He remembered that. It was important. Maybe it was why he fought.



A/N--This chapter is super-short because I wrote it in between classes. There WILL be a longer one posted sometime this evening. Thanks for the reviews I've received so far, I hope y'all continue to enjoy my humble story.

Chapter 3

"Are you going to watch me bathe him?"

Angel shrugged. "I figured you could wash and talk at the same time."

Spike lay between them, asleep and naked. There was nothing erotic about his nude body, and Buffy did not feel that familiar stirring in her stomach. Buffy washed the blood, dirt, and vampire dust off of him carefully, making sure not to disturb him. Not that he would have noticed anyway.

"I used to do this all the time," Buffy said softly.

"You used to give Spike sponge baths?"

"Well, I used to clean him up after battle. It was kind of a ritual," Buffy explained. "I would clean him, he would clean me.."

Angel lifted an eyebrow, "Sounds like the two of you were close."

"We were."

"I don't get it Buffy. It's Spike for Christ's sake."

"After he went to L.A. he came back to Sunnydale, and got caught by the Initiative. They put a chip in his head, to make him harmless. He couldn't hurt or kill any living thing..we didn't know how it worked, but we did know that he was harmless."

"Ok, so that means you don't kill him. It doesn't mean you clean his wounds, and do God knows what else," Angel pointed out.

"Well, we got along surprisingly well, after we stopped trying to kill each other. He kissed me, but we didn't really start being friendly until he found me.."

*** ".Crying?"

"What?"

"I said, are you crying?" Spike asked, sitting down beside her.

"No, I'm not."

"You may not be sobbing Slayer, but I can tell you're getting all watery. Here," he thrust a wadded up Kleenex into her hand.

"Thanks. And I'm not all watery."

"Uh huh. Whatever, Slayer. So come on, tell Uncle Spikey what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong! And what do you care?"

"Well, I gotta know my enemy's weaknesses don't I?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Buffy rolled her eyes. "I just want to be left alone right now."

"That's your problem Slayer. Always out here, crying by yourself."

"What do you know of my problems, Spike?"

Spike shrugged, "I aim to cause most of them. Who would know more about them than me?"

A small smiled touched Buffy's lips, against her will. "It's about Riley."

"Take it from me, Slayer, that Sod is nothing to get worked up over. What did he do to you?" Buffy thought she detected concern in his voice, but quickly dismissed it. Why would he be concerned?

"He didn't do anything. Angel did."

"Wait, is this about the soddin' soldier or the prancin' poof?"

Buffy sighed, "I'm worried, Spike ok?"

"About what, pet?"

Pet? "I'm worried that I'm with Riley because that's what Angel wants."

"The love of your bloody life wants you to be with Captain America? I doubt it."

"No, not with Riley specifically. He wants me to be with someone normal, have a normal life. And I just don't want to.."

"What? Don't want to what?" Spike prompted.

"Disappoint him," the slayer whispered, and suddenly she was no longer the Slayer. She was Buffy Anne Summers, a 19 year old college student, who was lonely and confused. She was not the strong, competent woman who averted three Apocalypses within as many years, she was a girl trying to figure out love and life, trying to plan for her future, albeit, a very uncertain one.

Spike knew how to relate to the Slayer, a little sparring, physical or otherwise. He didn't know how to handle Buffy though. He had never seen her this vulnerable, but now she was looking at him like he knew some answer that would solve her problems.

"He's not your daddy, Buffy, or your watcher. You don't owe him anything."

"I knew you wouldn't understand," Buffy said coldly, turning her head away from him.

"No, I think I actually understand one thing about you. You try to hard to please everybody around you, Slayer. Ever do anything for yourself?"

"I don't know," she muttered.

Spike shrugged, "There ya go. Stop worrying so much about what Angel," he said it like it was a dirty word, "wants, and focus on what you do."

"And what is that, Spike?"

"I don't know, but I want a fag."

"A what?"

"Smokes, Slayer. Haven't had one since I got this bloody chip."

"Giles doesn't want you smoking in his house."

Spike smirked, "What, he doesn't trust me?"

"You know, if you got your own place, you could smoke whenever you want."

"Trying to get rid of me, Slayer?"

"Just saying is all. Why are you still around stinking up the place?"

"Guess I like the company."

*** "That marked a turning point in our relationship. Suddenly he didn't seem quite so annoying."

Buffy had finished washing his chest, and moved down to his legs.

"What happened then?" Angel did not look very happy. Buffy supposed she could have vagued up the conversation, but it didn't really occur to her. Why not tell Angel the truth? She was going to have to tell him much more unpleasant things before this night was over

"Not much. He moved out of Giles' place a week later, and we didn't hear from him until Faith came to town. For a while we thought the Initiative caught.."

*** ".him?"

"Buffy, Spike is a very capable vampire, I'm sure he managed to avoid the Initiative."

"But he can't defend himself, and Riley, well, really has it out for him. I think this is more of a personal thing than a duty thing."

"Why do you think that, Buffy?" Willow asked, looking up from her book.

Buffy shrugged, "He thinks I spend too much time with him."

"So Riley stakes him in a fit of unjustified, jealous rage. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that, well, he's harmless!"

"We have other problems right now, Buffy."

"Like what?"

Giles sighed, "Like trying to figure out what the Initiative is up to. Why are they chipping vampires instead of just killing them? Why are they keeping demons in cages? This is the military, they don't just do things because they're curious."

"Yeah," Willow added, "They aren't just a research facility. Unless the government thinks they can capitalize somehow on the "sub-terrestrials.""

"Well, see, that's why we should worry about Spike. They could be trying to turn him into some sort of super-soldier or something."

"A super soldier that can't attack people?"

Buffy sighed, "I'm gonna go patrol."

"Be careful," Giles called after her.

"Always am."

"Worried about me Pet?" Spike asked from the shadows as she stepped outside the door.

"Fuck Spike! You scared about a year off of my life."

He smirked, "Well, you know, gotta do my killing somehow."

"Yeah, yeah yeah. Wanna patrol with me?"

Spike shrugged and flicked his cigarette away, "Sure. Haven't had my spot of violence for the day."

"So?" Spike asked, several minutes and two vampires later.

"So what?"

"Were you worried about me?"

"Pfft, why would I worry about you, Chippy?"

"I don't know, Blondie, why would you? I heard what you said to your watcher."

"Well, they can't kill you."

"Why not?"

"It's my job."

"That it is, Slayer, that it is. You still seeing Captain America?"

Buffy shrugged, "Yeah. A girl's got needs, ya know. And oh my God, I just sounded like Faith."

"Faith? She the other slayer?"

"Well, was. She's in the hospital right now."

"What happened to her?"

"I, uh, kinda stabbed her in the gut."

Spike stopped, "You tried to kill the other Slayer? We're not so different, you and me."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "It wasn't like that. It's a long story Spike, and I know how you have an attention span of a peanut."

"If you weren't so bloody boring, I probably wouldn't get so distracted."

"So it's my fault you have attention deficit disorder?"

"You're the fault of all my problems." Spike sounded dejected, resigned, but not particularly bitter.

"What's that supposed to mean, Captain Peroxide?"

But Spike was already gone, bleeding back into the shadows. Buffy finished her patrol alone, and when Riley called her that night to see if she wanted to "go out", she begged off with a headache. She just wasn't in the mood to see him. It didn't occur to her until much, much later that she never wanted to see him after she spent time with Spike.

*** Buffy finished his legs, "Help me flip him over."

"So, what? You were becoming friends?"

"Yeah, we were. And it was strange, because I knew he was the evil undead, and a pain in the ass, but sometimes he could make me forget that."

"He could make you forget he was a vampire?"

"Yeah, he kinda burned it out of my head."

TBC

Chapter 4

A/N-This is another chapter written in between classes, hence the short length. I don't know if I'll be able to update again today, but I will try. (Gotta watch the actual show and I do have HW..)

The voices were getting louder all the time. And it was definitely her voice. But Spike wasn't going to be fooled again. This had happened before, he thought he found her. But his happiness turned into bitter disappointment when he realized that it was only his imagination.

The vague memories he had were merging with dreams, and it seemed that he was losing them, slowly but surely. But Spike could feel the dull fingers of that aching mist around his brain begin to retreat, and he welcome this thankfully. It seemed that a band around his mind was loosening, and he'd be able to think again. But he only had one thought, and he tried to escape it, but he never succeeded.

The dirty vampires must be destroyed. Nothing that soiled, that disgusting, could be allowed to live in the world with her. The words circled in his head, over and over, providing him with purpose, but also filling him with shame and self-disgust. To escape, he tried to pull back into the mist that would cloud everything, blocking those harsh thoughts. But a part of him refused, and fought courageously to remain in the light. He couldn't fall back again, he needed to get home. He needed to find the source of this voice that washed over him like rain. He needed to make things right.

*** "Angel, will you go get me something to eat? I'm hungry, and we're going to be here awhile."

"We don't need to stay in here, Buffy, he'll be fine."

"I don't want to leave him alone. You might want to get yourself some blood too, this may be a very long story."

Angel nodded and departed. She wished Angel wasn't here at all, she didn't feel like rehashing the past in front of her ex-lover and first love. After the initial feelings of horror, pity and shock and departed, the old feelings of affection and tenderness came flooding back.

She decided that she need to cut his hair, and maybe even bleach it again. He just didn't seem like Spike without it. Of course, it was very possible that this creature was no longer the Spike she knew, and would never be again. In that case it seemed silly to worry about the color of his hair.

"Spike, I didn't want you to go. You didn't have to go. Fuck, you never left before when I told you to, why did you have to listen to me? You could have stayed; we would have worked it through.

"Dawn, she missed you a lot. We all missed you. Even Xander. We were both wrong that night, I wish you would have given us a chance to fix it though." Buffy sighed, "Maybe when it comes to my vampire boyfriends, I'm still naïve. Maybe you were right to leave, but Christ, Spike, didn't you think I would need you? Didn't you think I had learned to count on you there to help me?" Her tone was rising and she forced herself to take a calming breath before she continued to talk.

"I'm going to tell Angel everything, even the parts that aren't mine to tell. I'm sorry, you probably won't like that too much. Lord knows I don't, but I haven't talked to anybody else about it. Not Xander, not Willow, not even Dawn or Giles. They don't know everything, and it's just been bottled up inside of me, festering. So maybe it is a selfish reason to spill my guts, and yours too, I guess, but I need to do this."

Buffy paused, almost as if she was waiting for a response from the sleeping vampire. None was forthcoming.

"And when I'm done talking to Angel, I'm going to take you home with me. That's where you belong Spike. Sunnyhell."

She leaned over and gently kissed his cool, and now clean, cheek. "Stupid..

*** ".vampire!"

"Stop calling me that Slayer."

"I wasn't talking to you, bleach for brains. You know, if you are going to insist that you tag along with me every night, the least you can do is help me out."

"You had it under control."

"He ruined my new pair of pants! Do you know how much these cost?"

"Don't know, don't care. Whatcha doing wearing new pants to patrol in anyway?"

"I'm going to the Bronze with Riley tonight."

"Yeah, so am I."

"You're going on a date with Riley?"

"No, I'm going to the Bronze, with somebody."

Buffy snorted, "Who, Harmony?"

"No," Spike shuddered, "and don't ever mention her name again. God that Bint drives me crazy."

"I think it's sweet that you have a girlfriend."

"Careful there, Slayer, don't choke on the sarcasm."

"So, who is she?"

"No one you know, Slayer."

"Anybody I have to slay?"

"No."

"What does she look like?"

Spike shrugged, "Pretty little thing."

"How long have you known her?"

"Not long."

"Where does she live?"

"Slayer, what's with the 3rd degree? You're not jealous are you?"

She folded her arms defensively, "Of course not! Why should I be jealous?"

"I like it when you're jealous, you turn a pretty shade of green."

"I am not jealous. And don't talk to me tonight."

"What, good enough to patrol with but not good enough to have a drink with?"

"Exactly."

"Fine, Slayer. But don't you come and talk to me."

"Oh, I have no interest in meeting your latest hoe."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"So," Spike asked several minutes later, "want me to walk you to the Bronze?"

"I don't need your protection, Spike."

"Never said you did, Slayer, just trying to be courteous." "You? Courteous? Hah! That'll be the day."

"I'll have you know that I can be a perfect gentleman."

"Uh huh, I'm sure you've eaten a few perfect gentlemen, but that's probably as far as your knowledge goes."

"You think so, huh?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I bet I'm more of a gentleman than your perfect little Riley."

"Prove it."

"Oh, I will."

"Good, you can start.."

*** ".tonight." Angel said apologetically.

Buffy smiled, "No this is more than enough. I wasn't that hungry anyway."

"So, where were we?"

TBC

Chapter 5

"Why did we have to come to the Bronze," Spike's date whined as she twirled her hair.

"Because I wanted to."

"Well, can we dance?"

"No."

"I'm hungry."

"Then go get something to eat."

"Do you want anything?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because I don't mind getting you something. It'll be a little extra work but."

"Harm! Will you shut up?"

"I'll just leave."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Spike didn't pay any attention to the female vampire as she flounced out of the Bronze, angry and hurt. He didn't want to bring her, but he didn't want to show up to the Bronze alone after he had told Buffy that he had a date. And it didn't matter anyway, because Buffy was nowhere to be seen.

But her soldier boy was there, drinking a beer with his mates. Spike was careful to stay hidden in the shadows, out of their line of vision. Buffy had warned him more than once that she may not be able to stop Riley from trying to capture him again. He watched as the other commandos flirted with the girls, danced, and generally had a good time. But Riley seemed lost in thought, and dull as dishwater.

Finally, Buffy showed up, having changed her "ruined" pants. Spike rolled his eyes. If she would just wear regular jeans like a normal person, that wouldn't be an issue. But Buffy was far, far from normal. Even for a Slayer. She kissed Riley's cheek modestly, and Spike rolled his eyes again. They had all the passion of a couple of corpses. A girl has needs, but surely Captain Cardboard wasn't filling the bill.

The girl needed someone, like, well, like him. At one time, Spike would have been disgusted by the very thought. They were meant to kill each other, not shag like wild animals. But now the thought was extremely attractive. He could show her and teach her things that she never dreamed of. Things she certainly wouldn't learn if she stayed with Mr. Normal.

He watched them walk over to the bar and decided that it was time to refresh his drink.

"It's on me Slayer," he said, as Riley pulled his wallet out.

"Spike, what a surprise." Her voice indicated that it really wasn't. "Where's your date? Don't tell me she stood you up."

"Went home a bit early is all. Let me get that."

Riley was shooting daggers at him, "No thanks."

"What? I can't buy a drink for friends?"

"We're not your friends," Riley said tightly.

Spike shrugged, "Suit yourself. Though I wonder why kinda tosser turns down a free drink." Spike turned his attention to Buffy, ignoring her flushed paramour completely. "You going out for a second sweep tonight, Slayer?"

"Maybe. Why?"

"Thought I might join you."

"She doesn't need your help."

"Why is that? You going with her?"

"Yeah, I am. Got a problem with that?"

"Not my problem, but the Slayer probably doesn't need to have the added trouble of protecting your bony, white ass. She's busy enough as it is."

"You know," Riley said, taking a step closer, "my orders have changed."

"Really?" Spike sounded as though he was very, very interested in this new development.

"They're to kill Hostile 17 on sight. And look, I just happen to have a stake handy."

"Ok, boys, that's enough." Buffy had been watching the exchange with mild interest. She knew she should step in before things got too heated, but it wasn't like she was going to let them kill each other.

"Why do you keep protecting a hostile?" Riley demanded, clearly angry. Spike smirked. Maybe if he tried hard enough, this could be a full-fledged break-up fight.

"Because, you have made him harmless." "He's still a vampire."

"He's not hurting anybody!"

"But he killed people for hundreds of years," Riley was shouting now.

"Hey, hey, hey," Spike interrupted, "I'm not that old. Only 120."

Both of them ignored him. "Riley, I don't want to fight with you about this. I thought we were going to have some fun tonight."

"But it seems your work as followed you home, Buffy."

Spike held his hands up in mock surrender. "Look, I didn't mean to start a fight. Just offering the lady a drink, and being a gentleman."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Go back to whatever hole in the ground you call home. I don't need your drinks or your help tonight."

"Suit yourself Slayer."

*** It might have been a memory; it might have been a dream. There was no sure way to tell. If it was real, than Spike knew it was the beginning of the end for Buffy and her pursuit of a normal life.

He suspected it was a memory though, and this lifted his spirits. If it had been a dream, he would have been able to clearly see the Slayer, her boyfriend, and this "harm" person, who he just couldn't place. But he couldn't see them, only hear their voices. That night was important for another reason, though, wasn't it? Something else happened that night, and he desperately tried to find the memory again.

He didn't go home that night, like the Slayer had told him to. Not immediately. Instead he went..somewhere else. Where? What happened? Spike felt like growling in frustration over the missing memory, but at the same time, he had the pressing reminder that it wouldn't do any good. Even if he managed to capture this one night and hold it tightly to his chest, it would be gone again when the mist returned.

Even so, he didn't give up. Maybe this time, it would be different. This time he could hear her voice clearly, and that was something, wasn't it?

***

"Are you still patrolling tonight?" Riley demanded.

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Why can't I come with you? It isn't because of what Hostile 17 said, is it?"

"What? No, no. Nothing like that. You know you don't get in my way. Just sometimes I like to patrol alone."

"You aren't going to accidentally," Riley put the word in air quotes, "run into him, are you?"

Buffy sighed, "Riley, you have to stop this. Why would I want an undead, evil, vampire when I could have a sweet, normal, alive guy like you?" Why indeed, Buffy asked herself.

He smiled, "We still on for the movies tomorrow night."

"Absolutely." She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you then."

Buffy decided to start her sweeps in the old industrial area of Sunnydale, where all the factories (abandoned and otherwise) stood. For some reason she never understood, vampires really liked to nest there. But then she guessed that vampires liked gross, dirty, dilapidated buildings. Spike certainly didn't seem to mind.

She half expected to run into the evil undead, but apparently he had gone home like she told him to. Either that or he was doing the wise thing and staying the hell out of her way. She still couldn't believe the nerve he had to march up to the bar and announce he was buying her drink! Didn't she tell him to stay away from Riley?

What was his game? Did he just want to start a fight? That was the most likely scenario. Couldn't kill anymore, so might as well spend the evening with some stupid, male posturing. And what was the deal with Riley? Didn't he understand that **she** was the vampire slayer, and therefore, got to decide when it was time to slay vampires? He may be in the military but she was the **Chosen One**, and she was willing to bet that that held more weight in the grand scheme of things. Especially when it came to annoying, chipped, smoking, blonde vampires.

Buffy finished the factories and moved onto the cemeteries, but not with much enthusiasm. Between worrying about Riley's feelings, trying to figure out what feelings she had for Spike, and thinking about the test she was supposed to be studying for, she didn't have much energy left. Maybe that's why she didn't see the demon attack from..

*** ".behind."

Angel frowned, "You were blindsided?" "I probably would have seen him if I wasn't so distracted, or if I had brought someone along with me. It doesn't matter though, because someone did have my back."

"Spike?"

"Spike."

TBC

Chapter 6

"Slayer! What's wrong with you? Are you trying to get killed?" Spike demanded, holding out a hand to help her up. She ignored it and tried to stand up on her own. She failed, miserably.

"No, I'm not." She tried to stand up again, and this time she almost made it before she fell flat on her ass.

"Sure looked like it to me. You were lucky I was here."

"And why were you here Spike? I thought I told you to go home."

"Funny, but I don't recall you being the boss of me."

"If you knew what's good for you, you would have stayed home." Buffy tried to sound threatening, but it didn't work.

"You are absolutely right. If I knew that the price I had to pay for being out after dark was saving your sorry ass, I would have stayed home."

"Then why did you?" Buffy was angry, and hurt, and humiliated, and she didn't want to deal with Spike. Maybe if she acted like a real bitch he would go away.

"I really don't know, Slayer. Lord knows my life would be easier if I let the demon tear your spine out through your ass."

Buffy sighed, "Are you going to help me up?"

"No, I'm going home. Like you wanted me to, remember?"

"Well, now I want you to help me up."

"Doesn't work that way Princess. I don't jump to your every command."

"Fine, Spike, don't help. I'll be fine." She rose to her knees and winced as she felt the wide gash in her side open further.

"Are you hurt Slayer?"

Buffy looked up sharply. That was the second time she thought she heard concern in Spike's voice. "Not that you care, but yeah, I have a little cut."

"Where at?"

"Here." She pointed to the area just above her waistline on her left side.

"Let me see it."

"No! It's bleeding, you'll probably try to lick me or something gross like that."

Spike sighed, "Tell you what. I won't lick you unless you want me to. Now, let me see it."

Now that he was aware of the injury, he could smell the blood plainly. There was a lot of it. A frown marred his features as he kneeled beside her and carefully lifted her shirt. The demon's talon and ripped off a strip of skin, from her stomach all around her side, almost to her spine.

"This looks bad, Buffy," he said quietly, trying to wipe away as much blood as he could with the hem of silk shirt. "Come back to my crypt, it's closer."

"No! I'm so not going to your rat-infested crypt Spike. God knows what I might find there."

Spike sighed in frustration, and stood up, angry. "Fine, then, I'll leave you out here and some nasty can come and get a bite of you."

Buffy bit her lower lip, "Is it really that bad?"

"Yes, it is. You're going to lose too much blood if we don't get you bandaged up."

"What do you know about it?"

"I might know a little bit about how much blood a person can lose before they die. Especially Slayers."

"Referencing the slayers you killed before is not going to help your case, Spike." The words were mostly for show. The adrenalin had worn off, and pain was shooting through her body. She was also beginning to feel a bit light headed from the loss of blood.

"Good God, you're going to pass out right in the middle of cemetery. Come on, up we go." Spike easily picked her up in his arms.

She beat against his chest, rather ineffectually. "Put me down, damnit!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"Slayer, I'm not putting you down, now hold still."

"I hate you," she pouted.

"Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual. Hang tight, we'll be there in a couple of minutes."

Buffy relaxed into his arms and rested her head against his shoulder. He felt nice. Really, really nice. He smelt good too. Nothing like what you would expect an evil, undead thing to smell like. There was the slight hint of cigarette smoke, and whiskey, even blood, but something else too. Something sweet and dark.

His gait was long and smooth and kept the shaking and bumping to a minimum. That was definitely of the good, because she felt like she was on fire.

"Infected," she mumbled.

"What?" Spike asked.

"Might be infected." Her own words sounded very distant to her ears, like she was hearing her voice through long tunnels.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it is." His words were so soft; she might not have caught them at all if his mouth wasn't so close to her ear. Sweetheart? Had he just called her sweetheart? She couldn't focus on that right now though, she'd think about it later.

Spike moved as quickly as he dared. He should have just dragged her to her feet and to his crypt instead of standing around sparring with her. He knew the demon she was fighting carried a really nasty venom in its talon, and he hadn't even though to check her over for wounds. Stupid!

"Slayer, you're not falling asleep are you?"

"What happened to sweetheart?" She muttered.

"You want me to call you sweetheart, Sweetheart."

"S'nice."

"Yeah? Thought you hated nicknames."

"Like it when you're nice."

"I like it when you're nice too."

"Spike?"

"Mmmm?"

"The infection?"

"The demon has poison in its talon. Once it enters the bloodstream, it acts quickly. If you weren't the Slayer, you'd probably be dead by now."

"Reassuring."

"I know. We're almost there."

"Cure?"

"Yeah, I know of a cure. Don't worry about it." Spike reached his crypt while he was speaking, and without breaking stride, he kicked the door in.

"We're here," Buffy announced.

"That we are."

He laid her gently on the sarcophagus that doubled as his bed, but she held tight to his neck. He tried to disengage her arms, but she refused to move. "Come on, Slayer, you've got to let go."

"Don't want to."

"Yeah, but you have to."

With a sigh she let go of his neck, and Spike quickly pulled away from her. He had to think, and he had problems doing that clearly when she was so close. He didn't have many supplies in his crypt. It's not like he had a lot of time to go scavenging for magic herbs that cured deadly poison.

First things first though, he would have to clean her wound. He could do that, he had stolen a First Aid kit from the Watcher before he moved out. You never know when you would need clean bandages, especially in his line of work.

"I'm gonna have to take off your shirt," he warned her. "Don't fight me, ok? You'll just make it worse."

She nodded and slowly lifted her arms. "Does it hurt when you do that?" He asked. She nodded again. "I'll fix you up," he promised. He hoped he wasn't lying to her.

He slowly removed her blood-stained shirt and winced at the injury. It was worse; the skin had turned a bright and angry red. He began to wipe the blood away, aware of every grimace and moan of pain. It was a long ordeal, but finally she was clear of blood. Due to slayer healing the wound had already began to close and the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.

"You still with me?"

"I am."

Spike studiously kept his eyes trained on the gash and the red skin, as opposed to the creamy, silky skin of her breasts. Breasts that had been pushed up against his chest, soft and giving. He shook his head. Now was not the time to fantasize about feeling up the Slayer.

Spike caught the Slayer's eyes and let his face change. There was a slight question in her eyes, but she didn't move them away as he cut his wrists with his fangs.

"You're not going to turn me into a vampire are you?" It was obvious the question cost her a lot of energy.

"Yeah, right, like I'd fancy spending eternity with you. This might sting a little." It stung a lot. She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to writhe away from Spike, but she wanted to. The pain had been fairly centered before, but as Spike rubbed his blood into her quickly closing wound the pain spread through out her body. It felt like a million needles stinging her entire body, from the tips of her toes to her eyeballs.

"I know it hurts baby, just a little bit more," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "Just a little more."

"Spike, please."

With his free hand he gently caressed her face. "You'll be fine. Just a few more seconds. Then you can go to sleep."

She nodded and clenched her jaw and fists. She could do this, she had had worse. Just because she couldn't exactly remember it didn't mean this was the worst thing that ever happened.

Just when she thought she would lose consciousness, Spike pulled his wrist away. He quickly wrapped bandages around her body, making sure it was completely covered. "There you go."

"What did you do?" She asked.

"Vampire blood is a natural anti-venom. My blood coupled with your healing capabilities and you should be fine by tomorrow morning."

"Am I supposed to stay here?"

"Get some sleep for now. I'll take you home before sunrise."

Buffy was too tired to fight with him and before he had even finished his promise she had drifted off to sleep.

Spike sat there and watched her all night, not moving from his perch beside her. He kept an ear on her heartbeat, making sure it stayed strong and steady. As the night wore on, her breathing evened and the skin calmed to a shade of pink. As soon as she he felt like she was healthy enough to move, he lifted her and headed to her home.

"Are you taking me home?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, pet, I am."

"I feel better."

"You are."

"I'm still tired."

His heart softened at the sound of her "little girl" voice. He never got a chance to see her really vulnerable, and now she was nestled in his arms, trustingly. How did Spike feel about that? He felt a surge of protectiveness. The Slayer did not need his protection, but it still felt nice to be needed, no matter how temporary.

"We're here, Slayer. Can you walk?"

"No."

"I think you're lying to me, Buffy."

"Carry me upstairs."

"You're awfully bossy." But even as he was talking, he was moving carefully up the stairs. His duster swirled around his legs, and the stairs creaked under their combined weight.

He laid her on the bed, then rummaged through her dresser looking for a T- shirt to cover her with. He found an old Sunnydale High t-shirt and her sushi pajamas. He pulled off her pants, half expecting to get kicked in the jaw for his efforts, but Buffy didn't protest. He wanted to caress her legs, skim his fingers down her sides and across her panties, but he figured it wasn't worth the definite dusty ending.

Instead he put her in her clean clothes and took a step back. "Goodnight Slayer."

"Night Spike." He turned to walk out the door when she called his name.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, Spike."

He smiled slightly, "Anytime."

"Spike?"

"Yes, Slayer?" She obviously had no intentions of letting him go.

"C'mere."

"Is something wrong, Pet? Are you still in pain?"

"No," she reached for him, and grasped his coat. She pulled him close and he didn't struggle. "Just wanted a goodnight kiss."

Before Spike could pull away in shock, she kissed him gently on his lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," he breathed, then escaped into the cool night, away from her flush skin and hot, inviting mouth.

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