Chapter 6

Time froze in the artificially lit space, all eyes focused on the new arrival taking centre stage. As the scream died from his lips, Spike dropped into a defensive crouch, his head whipping round as he struggled to get his bearings.

Where the fuck was he? The last thing he remembered was exquisite pain searing through him as the Slayer hightailed it out of the cavern at the last minute. Was this hell? Since when did hell have wall-to-wall carpeting and shiny desks? Did hell have…?

“Angel!” Spike spat out the name incredulously, then continued with more force; “Angel, Angelus… where the fuck are we?”

The mood broken, the observers converged on the vampire causing him to take a step back… and into the body of the desk behind him. Feeling a dragging sensation as his legs merged into the solid surface, Spike looked down and then up at the curious faces.

“Bugger.”

He scanned the other occupants of the room. “Bloody hell – Harmony?” His heart sank even further. “Please don’t say I’m doomed to spend eternity listening to you prattle on about sodding unicorns. I was trying to save the bloody world; you’d think I’d get some credit for that. Red, Whelp, Nerd-boy…you all bought it too? What’re you doing in hell? Well maybe Red for the whole ‘end of the world’ thing but … Buffy…?”

His voice tailed off as his brain caught up with it. No; not dead – he could hear their heartbeats, smell their blood. So what the fuck was going on!

“Angel! You tell me now why I’m here, where here is, and where Buffy is or I’ll…….”

“You’ll what, Spike… walk through me to death? You don’t appear to be all there, in case you hadn’t noticed, not that I ever thought you were. Where you are is Wolfram and Hart, LA; why you’re here is anybody’s guess. Where Buffy is, that’s none of your business.”

With a snarl of pure rage, Spike launched himself at the darker vampire, roaring with frustration as he passed right through his body and ended up the other side of the office wall.

Angel turned to face the spot where Spike had disappeared, folding his arms and smiling smugly as he waited for his errant descendant to come back. It seemed that was something Spike was always destined to do; come back where he wasn’t wanted. Back to Sunnydale, back to Angel, back to unlife. And back to Buffy. Angel clenched his jaw at that last thought. Not if he had anything to do with it. Just because he’d temporarily been supplanted didn’t mean he’d just tie her up in a bow and have her delivered to Spike in a nice shiny package. He loathed the thought of them being together.

Buffy’d had a rough time and was confused and deluded; yeah they’d had the talk and he’d conceded that Spike was the one she loved. But that had just been a sop to her feelings. In time she’d come to her senses and realise he’d have been no good for her, the last thing she needed. Even while they were exchanging words, he knew that she’d soon put memories of the bleached pest behind her and return to where she belonged, in his arms; sans her faux widow’s weeds, of course. He’d do his damnedest to see that Spike didn’t get within a mile of her. It was for her own good; she needed to get back to normal.

And it was for Spike’s own good too, he reasoned. Slayer + Vampire = relationships laced with doom, gloom, an inordinate amount of fighting and sweaty palms. He was head of the family and the younger vampire would fall in line. He’d realise that, realise that Angel was just looking out for him. In time.

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

Buffy was slumped in the chair at her sister’s bedside, dozing fitfully. Her eyes bore dark circles that told their own tale of restless days and sleepless nights. First it was the loss of her lover that caused her to count stakes in the middle of the night; now it would be the sight of her usually animated sister lying still and silent surrounded by beeping machines.

Suddenly, the Slayer sat bolt upright – eyes wide and wild. “Spike?” she whispered incredulously as her pulse quickened. Standing, she dashed to the doorway of the room and looked outside, scanning the corridors for something - anything. Finding nothing but the usual emptiness, she turned and went back to stand at Dawn’s bed, wringing her hands and pacing agitatedly.

“What the hell was that?” she murmured to herself. Looking down at her sister’s serene face, she went with the urge to stroke her long hair, cupping her cheek in her palm before turning again to go to the doorway again.

“Ok Buffy, freak much? Dreaming again, dorkgirl. Spike’s gone. No ‘I’ll be back’ this time. And suddenly the whole nunnery thing seems an attractive proposition. I must be losing it.” A mirthless chuckle to herself after her Scooby monologue then Buffy settled back into the chair, checking that Dawn was still breathing easily and smoothing the covers as she did so.

A few minutes later, Dawn’s doctor entered the small room, all efficiency and detached professionalism with a clipboard. Buffy hovered at his shoulder while he checked the readouts from the pulsing equipment, hindering his movement around the bed.

The Wolfram and Hart employee discovered that no amount of “I can’t really say until the test results are back” explanations were sufficient to pacify the tiny bundle of highly strung nerves commonly going by the name of Slayer.

Standing to the side of the bed, her arms crossed, foot tapping out a staccato rhythm, head tilted in unconscious imitation of her missing soul mate, Buffy demanded an update on her sister’s condition.

Stammering as he was assaulted by the intense hazel glare, the doctor explained as best he could. “Well...the th-thing is Miss Summers…..actually I – I – I don’t know…well…”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy advanced on the wide-eyed young man, backing him up against the side of Dawn’s bed.

“My sister is under your care. She’s not awake. She should be. Fix it.” she growled.

“I – I - I’m trying to Miss Summers, really I am. But at the moment…”

The rest of the sentence tailed off, the unspoken words telling Buffy exactly what the situation was. Dawn’s coma was a mystery.

Backing off, Buffy dropped once again into the chair, head bowed and her agitated hands dragging the honey-gold locks back from her face.

Leaning forwards, she leant her elbows on her knees, her hands supporting her head at either temple as she contemplated her options.

The doctor filed his case notes and left, casting a backwards glance at the Summers girls before heading on up to see Angel and report in.

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

As the bemused individuals looked around Angel’s office and at each other, time ticked slowly until the black and blonde frenzy bowled back in through the wall and through Angel’s smirking form.

The smirk disappeared. “Don’t do that!” he growled, whirling to face Spike’s incorporeal body as it unfolded from the floor.

“Well, I can’t help it if I’m suddenly all go-throughable, now can I?”

Snarling, Angel took a step towards the grinning ghost.

“What you gonna do, Granddad? Can’t exactly hit me now can you? Reckon I could get to like this gig. Hang round the old place, bond with the family, you know? Make sure you’re never too lonely; help lighten the broodiness a tad.”

Angel stared at Spike, hands curled in fists at his side, before gritting his teeth and turning back to the group.

“Wesley, Giles. Find out what the hell is going on here. I’ll be…elsewhere.”

Designer jacket wafting behind him, Angel stalked out of the double doors slamming them behind him with such force that it dislodged a pair of crossed swords from their place on the wall to land with a clatter on the floor.

All eyes turned to Spike, arms folded, cocky smirk affixed to his face. His eyes were aglow with gleeful mirth. In reality he didn’t know which way was up but he wasn’t about to show his confusion to this lot.

“Here we are now. So, like I said – where’s Buffy?”

There were various murmurings amongst the group; none coherent. Lots of shifting of feet and coughing ensued.

“Come on, people! I know you’re all hiding something from me – I can smell it on you. Where is she? Thrown her out again, have you?”

Willow glanced nervously along the group before stepping forward towards Spike.

“Sp-Spike? Hi there! Erm, how’ve you been?”

A raised eyebrow and a tilted head was her only answer. Sensing that the vampire wasn’t going to be stalled much longer, she continued.

“Erm, the thing is, Spike, Buffy’s kinda busy right now – lot’s going on. She’s got a bit of a problem she’s working thr…“

“What sort of a problem? Is she in danger? Where the bloody hell IS SHE?”

Willow backed away from the suddenly vamped out and threatening figure, the fact that he couldn’t actually hurt her not penetrating her instinctive “flee the monster” reaction. Searching behind her for assistance from the rest of the crowd, she whispered, “Giles?”

“Spike. Please. Try to calm down. Buffy’s not in any danger, she’s just dealing with a situation that has arisen. I’m sure that if we talk things through you’ll understand why we don’t think it’s the right time to let you go to her. I really don’t think she’d be able to deal with it emotionally.”

“Is that right, Rupert? Still running her life for her? Well, last time I looked Buffy was an adult and adults make their own decisions – or are you gonna want to wipe her arse for her forever?”

Xander surprised everyone by storming past Willow and Giles and coming to a halt a hairsbreadth from the snarling vampire.

“Look, deadbeat – Buffy’s fine. We are looking after her. She doesn’t need you to start sniffing round her again and making her uneasy. She needs to be strong.”

“Strong! And that’d be something you know all about, isn’t it, Harris? Suddenly come over all manly now that you know I can’t touch you? Well, why don’t you just back off; Buffy loves me – she told me. And if she’s in trouble, I need to be with her. I don’t know why I’m back but I’m bloody well not going to waste one second wonderin’ about it when I could be with her. Now tell me where the fucking hell is she?!”

Fred had watched the Scoobies’ reactions to Spike’s sudden appearance and was nonplussed. They loved Buffy, that was clear, and they hated to see her in pain. The sight of her mourning her shattered heart, sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe, had broken them. So how come they were intent on keeping Spike from her? Surely they’d want her to be happy, and after her declaration in front of them all they had to know that she’d be absolutely ecstatic to discover that Spike was back? Was she using insane troll logic? Or were they?

“Hi there!” she trilled as she walked up to the still-life that was Spike and Xander facing off. “Spike? I’m Fred – well Winifred, but nobody calls me that -- well maybe my Mom and Dad, Auntie Martha, well most of my fam-…but that’s not relevant really…please, call me Fred.”

Spike broke the eye contact he’d maintained with Xander to glance at the babbling bint intruding on the testosterone battlefield. He was quite taken with what he saw; a willowy little girl with huge eyes and a radiant smile.

“Fred. Right.”

“Wanna go for a walk, Spike?” She finished the invitation with a mega-watt grin and a sweet girlish giggle. Spike couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“A walk?”

“Yeah, a little stroll – so’s we can get acquainted. I’ll give you the tour….”

“It’s a wonderful tour, Spike!” Wesley piped up seizing on the opportunity to distract the vampire whilst they tried to find out what he was and why he was back.

Xander backed off, looking as if the wind-up mechanism that propelled him forwards had wound down. Merging once more with the shadows, he resumed his hunched introspection.

“Well, okay, Tex, but only for a little while. I want answers; if I don’t know where Buffy is when I get back, there’ll be trouble.”

Despite the fact that all present in the room knew that in his present state he couldn’t actually hurt them, his words still sent a shiver through every one of them. And each of them heaved a sigh of relief as the slight figure of the Southern belle led the angry vamp away through the doors to the hallway.

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

Angel was heading for the elevator to his apartment when he was stopped in his tracks by the doctor.

“Mr Angel, sir! You asked to be kept up to date on Dawn Summers’ condition.”

Angel didn’t stop his stride, barking out, “Talk” as he continued to the elevator.

“Well, sir there’s no physical reason for the coma. We’ve taken blood samples, urine samples, tissue samples – none of the tests show an abnormal reading. Brain wave activity’s within normal parameters for her age, no visible trauma anywhere on her body save for some bruising that most likely occurred when she passed out and hit her head. In short sir, we’ve hit a brick wall. There’s no medical reason why she won’t wake up.”

“Well look elsewhere. This is supposed to be a demon law firm – scare up a demon and cut off his bits until you find out what the hell is happening. Do I have to think of everything around here?”

With that, the doors to the elevator closed leaving behind a quivering doctor, who was suddenly wishing he hadn’t been so quick to sign the blood contract in order to pass his final exams.

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

“…..and this is the lab; I live here mostly – well, not live, I have an apartment but I spend a lot of time here. You wouldn’t believe the things you can get from the stores. Just last week I needed a litre of mercury. Now I would have thought there’d be a delay but no – there it was quick as you like – ha! ‘Cause it’s quicksilver, yeah?”

Spike wasn’t listening to the actual words the bint was babbling, but the sound wasn’t unpleasant to his ears. Her voice was melodious and tinkling and he’d found himself calming as he walked at her side whilst taking the grand tour. His features evened out to his human visage and he realised that he was finding the company of this young woman very soothing. In a different life he’d have marked her down as “lunch”; maybe in this one he could mark her down as “friend”. She certainly didn’t seem fazed by the fact he was a vampire, seemed comfortable and unafraid in his presence. Of course, in his present state he couldn’t even lick her, never mind bite so maybe that had a lot to do with it. But somehow he got the sense that even if he could bite her she’d flash him those big round eyes and he’d end up fawning at her feet like a good puppy. She just seemed nice, decent.

“Spike? You wanna rest or are you ok to carry on?”

“Ghost here, luv. Don’t rightly think I need a rest. But if you need a sit down I don’t mind.”

“Well, maybe a short rest. Just while I get myself a soda.”

As Spike stood, unable to rest against anything, as he’d found out to his horror, Fred sipped on her drink and eyed him from beneath long lashes.

“You wanna talk about it, Spike?” she queried softly.

“About what, luv? Give me a clue here…”

“Buffy. The cavern. Anything really.”

Spike clenched his jaw at her words. Buffy. The cavern. Closing his eyes he recalled the last time he’d seen her.

It had cost him everything to say those words to her. He’d waited so long for her to tell him that she loved him. He’d almost given up hope. The final three nights before the battle had been the happiest of his entire existence. When he’d found her curled up in the bed of that abandoned house after that bitch Faith and the others had turned on her, he’d been so relieved to find her safe. He felt his dead heart lurch in his chest when she turned her tear-filled eyes on him, looking so forlorn – so broken. Like she’d given up on everything. When she’d asked him to stay, he’d felt at peace for the first time in forever. And when she’d patted the bed at her side and asked him to hold her…….

After he’d woken and seen her note, he’d feared she’d deny any connection between them as she’d done before. He’d had horrifying flashbacks to the night in the bathroom when he’d become crazed by her constant denial of any feelings between them. She felt something, he knew she did. But the way to show that wasn’t to force the girl down and rip at her robe. Don’t hurt the girl. That had become his personal mantra during his wrestling with his new soul. He wouldn’t ever hurt her again. His every remaining second would be dedicated to protecting her, trying to right that appalling wrong.

The conversation they’d had following his return to Revello Drive made his soul burn with joy and hope. She’d felt something; she’d been there with him. She admitted it, finally. As he gazed into her eyes, he felt connected to the world, a part of it; a feeling he thought he’d never have again. And he wanted to protect the world, make it safe. So, trying to convey the depth of his love for her in his eyes he turned away – “Let’s go and be heroes” he’d said.

After he’d seen her kiss Angel, he felt the soul shatter inside him and the demon wanted to rend and ravage. Why the fuck should he care what happened to the world if it was filled with fickle bitches who sucked face with their exes at the drop of a hat. He wanted to kill something then, preferably a warm something, filled with blood. But he didn’t; the soul regrouped and hit him hard before he could even formulate a plan. So he’d returned to his basement and pounded his pain out into the punching bag.

Even though he was hurting and angry with her, all the bitterness melted away when she descended the basement steps. His still heart almost burst with the love he felt. His beautiful, golden girl, so tiny and fragile-looking yet filled with such steely determination to win through against evil. He would lay down his unlife at her feet if it meant she didn’t have to face any more pain. He’d always be Love’s Bitch where Buffy was concerned – and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He snarked at her anyway, played the Big Bad to get a reaction from her. She’d pouted and mouthed off at him, hands on hips, moaned about vampires being disgusting. He’d had to chuckle at that – well, yeah; evil! But what mattered was that she’d stayed. She wanted to stay, with him, be held by him. And not for sex; he was used to being her sex-toy – this was different. This involved feelings, actual feelings not lust feelings, and he’d give up the entire repertoire of their lovemaking history just to have that night again with her, looking into her eyes and stroking her hair.

The whole “no you don’t” speech had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done. But he’d accepted that he was going to be on the missing in action list; he didn’t want her on it too. He told her what he thought she needed to hear, anything to get her away from him and out of the cavern. Anything so she would live.

And she was alive. He had to see her, tell her why he’d brushed off her tear-filled declaration of love.

“So, Tex. This is just dandy, but I need to see Buffy. Where is she?”

Fred had made a decision while conducting the grand tour. The others may not believe that his love was real, may want to keep Buffy and Spike apart; but who were they to make a decision like that. Hiding the truth was never the right thing to do. She knew what it was like to be in love with someone and not able to do anything about it. Try as she might, her feelings for Wesley were growing daily but she figured she’d missed that boat after picking Charles instead of him at the enchanted ballet. Hindsight was a wonderful thing! So, Fred the Fixer would play Cupid to another couple and maybe that way she’d quieten the fluffy pink cherubs racing round in her own heart.

“I’ll take you to her.”

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

The rhythmic sounds of the beeps that measured and recorded Dawn’s heart rate were soothing in a way, mesmerising even. Buffy’s glazed eyes saw the shape of her sister’s sleeping form, but didn’t focus. She was beyond tired, beyond freaked, beyond scared. Dawn was her world now; she couldn’t lose her. Willow, Xander, Giles – she loved them, they were part of her life, her history. But Dawn was her future. She owed it to her to make it better, make her forget the pain and losses of her past.

Rising from the chair and stretching to work out the kinks from too much sitting, Buffy walked over to her sister’s bed. She was so pale against the blue hospital sheets, her dark hair dull and lank. Buffy remembered the day her mom brought her sister home, wrapped in a baby blanket – all squirmy, her face red from screaming. Or rather, she fake-remembered – the monks had built that memory for her along with all the others. It didn’t matter; she was her baby sister, no matter where she came from. And she would protect her with her life, as the monk had told her. She reached out her hand and smoothed the hair away from Dawn’s forehead. Smiling to herself, she bent her head and kissed her sister’s cheek, whispering “Sleep Dawnie, rest. Everything’s going to be alright.”

Fred watched through the window, then turned to look at Spike as he stood beside her gazing hungrily at the woman he loved as she tended to the girl he thought of as his sister.

Chapter 7

He just stared at her, open mouthed. She was really there. Honey gold hair screening her features as she bent to kiss her sister then swinging back like a curtain to reveal her face. She looked tired and drawn, yet she’d never been more beautiful to him. “If my heart could beat it would break my chest,” he whispered, recalling another night, another time. He drank her in, frozen in place as he gazed at her, even as tears blurred his sight.

“Spike?” The rich southern drawl of the skinny woman at his side jolted him back to reality. He reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the centre of his universe and turned to look at the distraction.

“Uh?” The words in his mind wouldn’t force themselves past his lips. His world had shrunk to that small room beyond the glass. Everything else had vanished.

“Erm, Spike? Are you okay?” The concern in the voice of this virtual stranger touched him. He gave her a little smile, the shy poet behind the Big Bad showing through.

His eyes were wet with tears as he shook his head slowly. “Thank you,” he mouthed at her, his voice unable to break through the tight band of emotions clamping his chest. She smiled back, “You’re very welcome.”

It felt good to bring so much happiness by such a small act; it felt right. And yet again Fred wondered at the motives of those who considered themselves friends of the Slayer in keeping these two beings apart. Quietly, she backed away from the vampire, whose attention was once more focused on the tableau a few feet away. This was a private moment; he deserved this time.

Buffy continued to stroke her sister’s hair, talking softly about nothing in particular and making promises for their future. “…so then we’ll go to Venice. Oh, Dawnie, we can go in a gondola! Do you remember at the boating lake that time when you took a dive overboard? I thought Mom was gonna freak! Then you just stood up, hands on hips, and demanded a towel! Seven years old and calling the shots. So cute, all baby features with grownup words.”

Buffy stilled. There it was again! She sensed something; she knew she did. Her head whipped round and she stared through the small window searching for…well, for Spike. It was him she felt; the tingles he set off in her vamp senses were like none other. And this was him! She knew it. Narrowing her eyes to search the dim exterior, she found nothing and with a frustrated humph she turned back to the bed.

Spike watched from the shadows, puzzled by his instinctive jump back into the shelter of the wall as she turned towards him. Why would he do that? Wasn’t the one thing he wanted to do just seconds away from him? Didn’t he ache to hold her in his arms and…bugger. There it was. The big problem. No arms to hold her in, well, none that would do the job at the moment. Useless! Things were bad enough already for her, with the state Dawn was in. And he could do nothing to help.

“Fucking hell!” he ground out between clenched teeth. So near to her, yet not able to touch her…bloody torment. Thinking it through, he wondered if that was exactly what it was. Maybe he was in hell, maybe this was his punishment for the maiming and slaughter he’d indulged in with such a passion over the years. Perhaps his doom was to watch her through a window as she got on with her life.

“Not bloody likely…” he breathed. Maybe that brainy bird could help him out? She seemed like a good sort, all up for helping him. Yeah, he’d ask her, things would work out. After all, he saved the soddin’ world – surely he deserved to be cut a bit of slack?

Making his mind up to ask her, he moved forwards again to drink in the sight of his girls, reluctant to tear himself away. He could hear Buffy’s soft voice as she talked to Dawn about this and that, no doubt doing that whole deal the doctors always got folk to do when someone was unconscious. He was drowning in the sound of her voice, the timbre, the pace. He began to breathe in when she did, unable to be close to her physically but wanting to match her body’s movements anyway. His dead lungs inflated uselessly as he continued to watch her through the glass.

Buffy stilled again, alert, her vamp senses tingling. This was ridiculous! There must be something at Wolfram and Hart that was messing with her vampdar. She’d mention it to Giles when she saw him; see if he could get them to damp it down or something because it was making her crazy. She already missed Spike so much without false readings knocking her sideways every five minutes.

Spike. That pain inside her would never go away; she wasn’t going to let it. She couldn’t do the whole ‘he’d want you to go on’ thing. He probably would at that. He’d loved her beyond all limits and her happiness would be the most important thing to him. But letting go of her memories wasn’t an option. She didn’t want to replace him, and even if she did one day, how could she? How could anyone ever live up to the devotion and sacrifices he’d made for her, for Dawn, the whole damn world in fact? No. She realised she would be in love with him for the rest of her life. If only she’d told him how loved he was, while they’d still had the chance to make something of it. That love would feed the memories; keep him fresh in her mind, every day, until she breathed her last.

Buffy settled back in her seat and picked up a book, reading to her sister in a soft, warm voice; Spike looked on, entranced. Fred hated to intrude but she really needed to get back to the group, see what was happening. Maybe Spike wanted to stay here; she just wanted to let him know that she was leaving.

“Hey,” she whispered “I’m heading on back now. You all right here?”

“Yeah, yeah…that’s fine…I’ll just be…” His eyes never left the picture in front of him as his voice tailed off.

Fred started walking away, smiling at the warm feeling inside her. Angel would likely be upset with her showing Spike where Buffy was, but somehow she didn’t care. It had to be done.

“Hey! Hold up, Tex!”

Fred stopped as Spike caught up with her, black duster flaring behind him. “You okay?” she queried.

“Yeah, soddin’ wonderful pet! I wanna thank you for that; if you knew how much it means to me…”

Fred smiled, her entire face creasing up so that her eyes were tiny behind the lids. “You’re so very welcome, Spike.”

“An’ I hate to ask you for extra favours but do you think you might be able to help me some more?”

“I’ll sure try; what do you need?”

“Well, it’s a miracle seeing her again, listening to her…but it’s not enough …I have to get hold of her and kiss her and…well, you get the picture. I can’t do much like this...”

Fred gasped as Spike graphically demonstrated the problem by walking through her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“No, no – it’s fine, just a little unexpected, you know? So, you want me to make you un-ghosty?”

“Erm, yeah – I suppose you could put it like that. I don’t know why I’m back; don’t know what I am even. Am I a ghost?”

Spike tilted his head, his eyes deep pools of blue boring into hers with barely restrained anguish.

Fred smiled sympathetically. “I don’t know, Spike. I guess. But, yeah, I’ll help you. I mean I’ve got all these amazing things in my lab and all…”

Spike moved forwards as if to hug her. Fred stepped back.

“Sorry, forgot myself there again. Bugger!”

“S’okay, Spike. I just…well, it kinda tingles when you do the walk through thing. It’s ...creepy. Sorry!”

“No worries. It creeps me out too, to be honest. So…to the lab, Dr Frankenstein?”

“Huh? Oh – I get it. Yeah, okay, might as well start now. Now what do you remember after the amulet started glowing?”

“Pain, searing pain, bright light, and Buffy…telling me she loved me. Me telling her she didn’t. God, I am such an idiot! Wouldn’t be surprised if the bint’s dead set against me now.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll fill you in as we walk…I think you’re gonna like this part…”

Fred led the way down the corridor and towards her lab, talking softly to the animated vampire spook at her side as she outlined the happenings of the last couple of days.

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

Angel watched the closed circuit TV footage on the huge screens dominating the far wall of his office. He was furious when he’d picked up Fred leading Spike to the hospital wing; that girl was too soft, too trusting for her own good. He’d soon put her straight. Spike needed to be kept away from Buffy and Dawn. Who knew what he was, why he was back. He was probably sent by some evil bigwig to finish off the slayer now that the First Evil’s plan had failed. Why didn’t anybody else see that? At least it didn’t seem they’d made any contact with Buffy on their impromptu hospital visit; there would have been a huge make up scene if they had. The thought made him sick.

Less and less it seemed that his orders were being followed. He was the boss, Mr Angel, CEO of Wolfram and Hart. The minions in the office knew and respected that, so why didn’t Gunn and Lorne and goddamn Fred! It was the Scoobies. It must be. They all used to do what he said when they were just Angel Investigations. And now he had a huge barrage of resources at his fingertips, so why didn’t they just let him make the decisions and do as they were told.

So what to do about Spike. Okay, he’d admitted to Buffy that he was sorry at his passing, had told Lorne that he felt like he’d lost family. But that was when he was gone; when he knew that Spike was dust. When he’d realised that the bleached blonde wouldn’t be around to bug him anymore, yes it had hurt. He’d gotten used to sparring with him. It was like an itch that you have every day but then one day it’s gone. It bugs the hell out of you all the time you have it, but when it’s no longer there it feels strange. So that’s what Spike was to him. An itch. A pain in the butt. Something he could do without. And you don’t want an itch to come back. Once it’s gone, you get used to the lack of it and as days pass you feel relief that you don’t have that infuriating crawling under your skin.

Not to mention that Buffy had lost control of her senses temporarily and was still carrying a torch for her dead champion, when here he was offering her protection and love. He could do anything he wanted now with all the weight of Wolfram and Hart behind him. He’d make her see that she didn’t need Spike. It was vitally important that she didn’t find out he was back or else she’d just go with her emotions and ignore common sense. Even Giles couldn’t argue with that. None of her friends seemed to want her to be with Spike; it would be easy to convince them he was up to no good. Gunn and Lorne wouldn’t be bothered either way. That just left Fred, a sucker for a hard-luck story and patron saint of victims everywhere. Well, she could be handled too. Wes would love that assignment; he’d seen the way the former watcher looked at her.

This job was made for him. He had so many years on the others, could see from a distance objectively what their short life spans clouded with emotion. If they couldn’t make hard choices, he’d have to make them for them. Just like he’d had to do for Buffy when she was going to leave with Dawn…

Deciding to speak to Giles first, he clicked off the surveillance monitors and sheathed them behind the gilt screen that slid down over the top of them. Pressing the intercom to speak to Harmony he barked out his orders.

“But, boss – I don’t think he’s in the building. You want me to leave him a message for him to get in touch when he’s back?”

“No, Harmony, I want you to bring him to me now. I’m the boss here – I don’t have time to wait about. Whatever he’s doing it can’t be as important as my business. Find him, fetch him. You got that? Or shall I draw a diagram?”

“I got it! Sheesh…you were nicer when you were a homicidal maniac…”

“Just do it!” He clicked off the intercom.

He picked up the telephone and dialled security.

“This is Angel. I want you to put a tail on some people, 24-hour surveillance – where they go, who they talk to, what they say. I want the works – video, audio, occult. You report directly to me, nobody else, understand? Good. Now, the names…”

The movements of the Scoobies and his own staff would be known to him at all times now. It made him one up on them, no matter what they did; he’d be a step ahead.

It was good to be the boss.

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

Giles was in the same small café round the corner from the W&H Building where Dawn had fallen ill. He sipped his coffee, grimacing with distaste as he listened to Willow voicing her concerns.

“He just seems really… I dunno…Angelus-like, but without the whole soul-losing. It’s very disturbing!”

“Well, I admit he’s a little aggressive, Willow, but I suppose he’s worried about Buffy and he has just taken over his enemies’ law firm. Quite a change to get used to.”

“But that’s just it, Giles. He doesn’t seem fazed by any of that; in fact I’d say he’s loving it. Just a little too comfortable with the giving orders, don’t ya think?”

“I can see how you might think that. But don’t forget since we last saw Angel in Sunnydale he’s been running his own investigation firm, and from what Wesley was saying he had to make some difficult decisions during that time. I suppose he’s just different. Being relied upon by everyone all the time to make choices for them, well, sometimes it’s…well it can be rather wearing.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Look, I know you had a lot to put up with, but can we forget the poor-Giles gig for a moment? I’m sorry that we weren’t better at school, and in the Magic Box, and research, and real life and I’m sorry for nearly killing you all. Really. But that’s not the point now. I’m worried about this, Giles. I have a bad feeling.”

“I understand, Willow, I do. I’ll see what I can find out, speak to that Lorne fellow. He seems a decent sort and Wesley tells me he’s quite insightful. If there’s anything wrong with Angel, I’m sure he’d be able to sense it. Don’t worry.”

Giles smiled at Willow, patting her hand reassuringly. She smiled back at him, tentatively, far from convinced that they had nothing to worry about. Angelus was bad enough - but bad-Angel? That just didn’t bear thinking about; but somehow she couldn’t stop doing just that.

“Giles! Come quickly!”

Both Giles and Willow jumped, startled by the outburst from Harmony as she ran over to their table in a flurry of baby-pink chiffon.

“What? Is it Dawn, what’s the matter, Harmony?” Giles was on his feet, his coffee cup on its side spilling its contents across the tabletop.

“Oh, no. It’s just that Angel sent me to get you immediately. Come on, quickly!”

“Oh! Well. I’ll come as soon as I’m finished talking. Go and tell him I’ll be back presently.”

“He was very insistent that you came immediately. He said that whatever business you have can’t be as important as his. He wasn’t very nice to me.”

Willow flashed a look at Giles that he recognised as a patented Buffy Summers ‘I told you so’ look.

Sliding back into his seat and attempting to mop up the mess, Giles turned to the vampire.

“Ahem… Harmony. Have you noticed anything strange about Angel lately? Is he acting oddly?”

“No more than usual, but then I haven’t been working for him long. I mean, last time I worked for Angel Investigations I handed him, Wesley and Cordy over to this bunch of freak vampires who were working on a pyramid scheme – ‘you eat one, you turn two?’ pfft! I tell you, those things should be banned. And the robe did my complexion no favours. So he was kind of pissed when he found out I was his PA and he’s been ragging on me ever since. I just commune with my inner chakra and drown him out mostly. That and I have an MP3 player…”

“Intriguing. Well, thank you, Harmony.”

When the ditzy blonde just stood there, wringing her hands together and jiggling nervously from foot to foot, Giles sighed heavily and got to his feet.

“Alright, Harmony, you win. I’ll come now. Willow, maybe you could try talking to Wesley about our earlier thoughts. It wouldn’t hurt to look into it.”

“I will. And, Giles, be careful.”

“Oh Willow, I’m not going to bite him! I’m on a strict diet you know…and aging watcher isn’t in my calorie count.”

Willow shook her head in disbelief as Harmony sauntered off babbling away at the bemused man following her.

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

“Okay, now let me know if this has any effect on you at all.”

Fred turned a dial on the hand held gadget aimed at Spike’s face.

“OW! Bloody hell!”

He clapped his hands to his ears and bent away from her, in obvious distress.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Fred turned off the machine and a relieved vampire stood up straight, eyes dark, head tilted at a menacing angle.

“Guess that proves your hearing is still supernormal.”

“And that helps how?”

“Hey! I’m a scientist, I have to check everything. Hmm, now how about your reflexes?”

“Don’t think a little hammer on the knee’s gonna cut it, pet. No knee to hammer, remember?”

“Shoot! I forgot… okay, let’s try some scans and stuff. Hold still.”

Spike stood in the middle of the brightly lit lab that Fred called home. He looked around curiously as she carried out her scans, trying to puzzle out the uses that the various bits and bobs around him could be put to. There were some tubular jobs he was going to steer well clear of. Looked like torture implements and that was only fun if you were giving it out, not on the receiving end. Well, maybe once upon a time...

“That’s odd.” Fred was looking at a readout, puzzlement clouding her features.

“What is?”

“Well, I scanned you for...let’s say corporeality, and according to this you’re as solid as I am. But you can’t be, because for a start I can’t walk through stuff…”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s just plain weird. Don’t worry.” Fred noted Spike’s drooped head and slumped shoulders. “It may take a little while, but I’ll figure it out. It’s what I do.”

“Of course you will, Tex. It’s just…she’s so close…you know? And I just want to touch her…”

“I’ll fix it, I promise. I’m a diehard romantic girl, and true love always triumphs – even if I have to bend all the laws of nature and physics to do it!”

Spike chuckled despite himself. He believed her; she may be tiny but she was a gutsy one. Faced with Fred, he bet even Mother Nature herself would simply hole up in a tree and hibernate until she went away.

The sound of the intercom interrupted Fred’s musings; Spike was wandering around the lab trying fruitlessly to pick things up.

“This is Winifred Burkle.”

“Fred, it’s Angel. I need to see you; can you come up to my office? And leave the bleached wonder behind; he’s not invited.”

“I heard that, you poof! Don’t need an invite and how do you think you’re gonna stop me? You gonna call Ghostbusters? Pillock!”

“I’ll be right up.”

Fred closed the connection and turned round to face an enraged Spike.

“He doesn’t mean it, you know. He was all cut up when he found out you were gone.”

“Yeah, right. And I’m seeing little piggies flying all circling overhead. He loathes me and the feeling’s mutual, been that way since Dru turned me. He was such a prancing idiot back in the day; he was an evil sadistic wanker then and he’s still the same now. He just can’t stand to see me have anything of my own; he took Dru and now he wants to take Buffy and Dawn. Well he’s fucking well not doing it! He had his chance and he messed it up. She’s mine…you said it, you heard her! I’m not letting him get his filthy vindictive hands on her, you hear me!”

Despite the fact that she knew he couldn’t hurt her, Fred had backed off from the growling vampire, who suddenly was wearing his demon face. Spike stopped his tirade, noticing that Fred was all big-eyed and giving off the scent of fear. He relaxed his hands down to his sides and melted back to his human features.

“Sorry, pet. I just get all crazy around him. He pisses me off!”

“I know. It’s all a little bit tense right now, what with Buffy and Dawn and the whole end of the world thing. Things will settle down, we’ll get you back to living colour and then everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

“Wish I could believe you. But I’m used to being royally screwed over by the Powers That Be so I won’t book me a room over the rainbow just yet. You coming? Might as well see if I can get him good and broody, maybe make him do that thing where he stalks off. Always liked that bit.”

Fred grinned. It was no good asking Spike to stay away, she may as well headbutt a wall for all the good it would do. And the company would be nice.

They headed up to Angel’s office, Spike whistling in anticipation of the fun to be had baiting his grandsire.

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

Buffy had dozed off in the chair as she read aloud to Dawn. When the book fell from her lap, she woke with a start. It took a moment for her to remember where she was. Reassuring herself that everything that should be beeping was beeping, she rose from the chair and stretched out the kinks in her neck and back. She moved across to her sister and smoothed down her hair. She looked so young, so calm as she slept, as if she’d never had a trouble. Buffy hoped she was dreaming of happy things, of mom and the fun they’d had, the vacations, Christmases, the love they’d shared…or at least, the memories of those things because in reality Dawn hadn’t been there for most of them. The monks had implanted the memories, moving them around subtly until Buffy and everyone else accepted Dawn as if she’d always been there. And now she couldn’t imagine a life without her.

The monks. Maybe that was what had happened…after the Hellmouth collapsed maybe the mystical forces that had given Dawn life had been interrupted somehow. Her mind started to race. Maybe this was all her fault! In saving the world, she’d finally condemned her sister to death. “Oh God no, Dawnie…I didn’t know...”

The tears leaked from her eyes as she tried to master the panic that threatened to overtake her. She couldn’t have done this, not to her sister…..not after everything. She needed to speak to Giles, to Willow. Rushing to the door, she shouted down the corridor “Hello? Is there anyone there? Hello?”

Eventually, a nurse came into view, unhurriedly walking towards her on soft-shoed feet.

“Miss Summers? Can I help you?”

“Yes. I need to speak to my friends, Mr Giles and Miss Rosenberg. Could you ask them to join me? I don’t want to leave Dawn.”

“She’ll be perfectly safe, Miss Summers. You do really need to go get some rest, you know.”

“NO! I am NOT leaving her. Now please, just ask them to come down here.”

“As you wish. I’ll try to locate them for you.”

The nurse wasn’t impressed with her outburst, Buffy could tell by the glare she shot her way when she thought Buffy wasn’t looking. She didn’t care. The only way she was being separated from Dawn was by force. And even then, she wouldn’t care to bet on it.

Rushing back to Dawn’s side, she took her hand in hers, pressing kisses to it and coating it with her tears. Within minutes the nurse was back.

“Mr Giles is presently in conference with Mr. Angel, but Miss Rosenberg is on her way down. Is there anything else I can get you, some coffee, some food?”

“No. Thank you. I’m sorry I’m so snappy…I’m just worried.”

“Perfectly understandable. But you really should get some rest. You won’t be any use to her if you end up in your own bed.”

The nurse left on that note. Buffy knew she was right but she just couldn’t bring herself to leave her sister in this strange place run by god knew what sort of people, if they even were people. No, she was going to protect her, no matter what it took.

Willow walked into the hospital room to find Buffy hugging Dawn and whispering to her softly. She couldn’t catch the words, save for an “I promise”.

“Hey, Buffy. You wanted me, is there anything wrong? You need me to sit with her a while?”

Willow was alarmed to see Buffy’s tear-streaked face as she turned to her.

“Buffy! What’s the matter, is it the doctors…what have they said?”

“No, not the doctors. It’s me, Willow; I…I think maybe I did this to Dawn.”

“You did what? How could you have done anything? Wouldn’t I have noticed? Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, not really. But what if it is me, what if I’ve made her like this by closing the Hellmouth? Back then I could have sacrificed the one for the many, Willow, to save the world, but now…not now; not now the battle’s over! I mean… I already did that…I’ve lost the one… I let Spike…god…Spike!” Buffy was inconsolable. “She’s all I have left now, Will. It’s just… I’m scared it’s the Hellmouth. It’s a kind of portal, isn’t it? Maybe Dawn’s origins are all tied up with it and with it gone maybe she’s just not gonna be here…..”

Buffy choked on the last words, collapsing against her friend as she vainly tried to calm her. Willow continued to hold her and rock her until she’d stopped sobbing.

“Shhh, Buffy, please don’t do this to yourself. You don’t know that it’s anything to do with our Hellmouth or any other Hellmouth. It could be anything, couldn’t it? Now come on, we don’t give up like that do we? You’re exhausted; not slept in an age. This is probably post-apocalypse mental meltdown. You have to get some rest or you’re gonna crack up, and then where will we be? We need to start some research. I’ll get Giles and we’ll work something out, I promise. ”

Buffy was standing by the bed staring at Dawn, her shoulders slumped and her lip quivering with the effort not to cry again. Willow touched her arm so that she turned to face her.

“We will work this out, Buffy. I know it’s hard, but hang in there. Okay?”

Buffy nodded, her eyes turning back to her sister. Willow gave Buffy a reassuring hug then went off to find Giles. Buffy’s voice followed her as she left.

“I wish Spike was here,” she whispered.

Chapter 8

Angel and Giles were in the middle of a heated discussion when Fred knocked on the door and entered, tailed by a smirking Spike. The two men were obviously locked in a battle of wills and neither was giving an inch.

“This looks interesting. Can anyone join in the fun?” Spike said as he prowled the room.

Giles dropped his eyes from Angel and turned to go.

“No, Giles. I know we need to talk about…what we were talking about, but there’s something else we need to discuss. I didn’t really want him here, but as we’re stuck with him I suggest we just get on with it.”

Spike snorted. “Keeping secrets now, like a big girl. Oh how the mighty have fallen. You gonna take your ball away, then, Liam?”

“Spike. I can’t make you leave, but I am damn sure I’m not going to have this childish game with you every time I see you. Either shut up or I will find a way to hurt you.” Angel lowered his voice, “Or someone you love. Understand?”

The cords in Spike’s neck bulged as he processed the threat. He knew what Angel was capable of even if the others didn’t. Giles and Fred hadn’t picked up on the implied threat to Buffy, as they hadn’t reacted. Neither of them would even suspect Angel of harming Buffy…or Dawn. But he knew better.

Spike nodded, curtly acknowledging that he knew exactly what Angel was talking about. Battle lines were being drawn.

“The reason I asked you here, and Willow when she gets here, Fred, is that we need to know what to do about him.” He gestured over to where Spike was nervously standing in a pool of sunlight cast through the necro-tinted windows. “What is he, why is he here, how do I get rid of him.”

“You don’t, mate, apparently. I think this may be my punishment, to see your ugly mush every day for the rest of eternity. Still, if there’s any way I can enrich your life with my presence, it won’t be a total loss.”

Spike curled his tongue behind his front teeth, then grinned in a manner designed to infuriate his grand-sire. He knew every button to press, every nerve to twang and he would use that knowledge to keep Angel off-kilter as long as he could. If he was busy baiting him, then Angel wasn’t doing anything to Buffy.

“Not if I have anything to do with it. You’re not wanted here, Spike, by anyone. What use are you unless we start a sideline in haunt-o-grams? I don’t trust you; I don’t trust whoever or whatever sent you here. If there’s a reason, it can’t be anything good, and I want to know what it is, what you’re up to. I will find out. And I will rid myself of you. You can count on it.”

“Oooh, I’m shaking in my shoes.”

“Ah, I think we need to concentrate on the matter in hand,” Giles interjected, “Despite Angel’s views on the subject, I think we’re all agreed that we do need to find out why you’re here, Spike. You must be anxious to know why, too.”

Spike nodded.

“So, it’s time to do some research. In the meantime, I suggest you just…wait.”

“Bugger that, Watcher. I know where Buffy is now and I’m not staying away from her. You’re all so sure you know what’s best for her. Well I’m here to tell you you’re talking out your arses. I’ve watched her. She’s fragile; yeah, I can see that. But she doesn’t need to be left alone; she needs to be loved. And I bloody love her more than all the rest of you put together and I am not going to let her go through this alone. So deal with it. I’ll be with Buffy.”

He disappeared through the door, its closed surface mocking the remaining occupants of the room.

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

In the corridor, Spike’s bravado fled leaving him hunched as he strode away. Buffy. He wanted to be with her but how could he of any use to her like this? He had to find a way to get back, to be able to hold her.

That Fred bird would just have to help him. Bugger! He’d left her in the office. Nothing to do but go watch his beloved through the impenetrable glass until Fred was back in the lab.

He sped up his pace as he made his mind up to resume his vigil, the mere thought of being near to Buffy soothing his ire and gracing his shuttered features with a tender smile. Head down, hands in the pockets of his duster, he began to run towards the hospital wing, not wanting to waste another moment. He barged round a corner, straight through Willow.

“Aaaaaargh! Spike! Don’t do that!” Willow shook herself like a wet dog as she spoke.

“Red! Sorry about that…didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously. That is not a pleasant sensation, Spike. Ugh.” She shuddered to underline her revulsion.

“Sorry, pet. I was in a hurry.”

Silence fell between the two. She knew where he was going; he knew she knew and wasn’t saying. Willow thought back to the sight of Buffy rocking herself as she told them all about the last time she’d seen Spike, lit from within in the Hellmouth, and how she’d keened her sorrow after telling the assembled Scoobies and others how she loved him. She flicked her eyes up to take in the appearance of the vampire-ghost. His agony at the separation mirrored that of her best friend.

The love between the vampire and the slayer was stronger than death -- Buffy’s confession was testimony to that – and who was to say that the very reason that Spike was back wasn’t to do with his love for Buffy? It made sense, really, that he wouldn’t leave her in this life, alone.

Why had the Scoobies been so against letting Buffy know Spike was back? She was an adult; surely it was up to her to make her mind up what she wanted? Willow thought about their cavalier attitude in the past, how they’d made decisions on her behalf, chosen the path they thought she should take without paying any attention to what Buffy might want, did it without her knowledge. She grimaced as she remembered particularly a night outside Buffy’s house when Spike had brought flowers to mark Joyce’s passing, only to be belittled by Xander as Willow stood uselessly by. Sure, she’d commented later that it wasn’t to gain points as there was no card but while he was there… They’d been so arrogant in their presumption.

Well, not again. He’d made huge efforts; anybody could see that. He wasn’t the demon he’d been on that first night at the school. He hadn’t been that demon for a very long time. And yes, everyone knew about the soul now; but she didn’t think that was all. Spike had started to change long before the soul had taken up residence to battle the demon inside him. Take Dawn. She remembered that summer when Buffy had been…away. He’d been constantly at Dawn’s side, helping her to cope with the loss of her sister by sharing stories of her kills, her brushes with death, which curiously soothed the teenager. The two of them had been inseparable, a fact that Xander had found increasingly irritating but that Willow had found comforting.

Willow knew what she should do. She wasn’t the most impulsive of people, leaning heavily towards the logic camp mostly, but this decision felt right. She wasn’t going to fall into line behind Angel and whatever it is he was up to. And she had no doubt he was up to something nefarious. No, she was going to stand by her friend, give her what she needed. And what she needed was Spike. Suddenly she realised, it may not be what she wanted for Buffy, it may not be healthy, it may not be practical – but it was real.

As the decision was made, she felt a weight lift from her. Willow knew where Spike belonged, with Buffy and with Dawn. She wasn’t going to stand in the way any longer. She raised her green eyes to meet Spike’s blue. His brow furrowed in puzzlement.

“What’s up Red? Is there a problem?” His head tilted, eyes intense as he waited for her explanation.

“Not anymore. Come with me. We need to sort something out.”

As they neared the hospital wing, Willow striding along in front, Spike realised what she intended.

“Hang on, Red – no! Not like this. I appreciate the gesture and all, but no…thank you.”

“But...I thought…well, colour me confused.”

“I want to, god you don’t know how much I want to speak to her, see her, smell her, hold her…and there’s the nub. I want to touch her. And right now…I’m useless.” He waved his hand through a pillar in demonstration.

“Oh. Right. I see the problem. But surely you still want her to know you’re here?”

“Would love to, pet, but …well, what’s to stop her walking right through me and out the room? What can I offer her, like this?”

“But you love her, right? And let me tell you – she does love you, no matter what you think. Spike, I’ve never known anyone love someone more than Buffy loves you. You have to believe me.”

“I do, pet, I do. You and that Fred chit have said the exact same thing. Makes me all warm inside, you know? But that’s why I can’t just spring this on her.” He gestured to himself, wanting to make her understand his anguish. “Just wouldn’t be fair, not with the Niblet all out of it. She’s got enough on her plate.”

“Bollocks!”

The raw exclamation from the witch shocked both of them. Willow had her hand clamped over her mouth; Spike had the hint of a smile playing around his.

Willow recovered first. “Spike, don’t you think that anything she could get of you right now would be enough? She’s been mourning you since Sunnydale disappeared into a crater. Just get in there…the rest will follow. Go on!”

Willow found her inner dominatrix and urged the vampire onwards. Surprisingly, he took an initial step backwards, his face a study of shock and awe, then obliged her by scooting past her and heading to the hospital wing and the Summers girls.

No going back now.

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

Angel, Giles and Fred remained in uncomfortable silence for a moment after Spike’s heated departure. Fred was anxious to leave, she desperately wanted to help him and help Buffy but didn’t want to share that with Angel just yet. She’d always be a little in awe of the knight in shining armour who had rescued her from enslavement in Lorne’s home dimension and she didn’t want to have to cope with his disapproval. No, better to investigate the problem and find a solution first.

Giles was still smarting from the angry exchange that had happened before Fred and Spike arrived. Giles had demanded evidence of the agreement between Angel and the law firm, some explanation as to why obvious enemies would gift such a well stocked and richly funded source of knowledge to someone, unless the Senior Partners still had the upper hand. Angel’s smug and dismissive attitude was getting on his last nerve and he was becoming increasingly disturbed by the vampire’s integration into the infrastructure of Wolfram and Hart. He understood the theory behind “team Angel” accepting the offer made by the Senior Partners – working from the inside was, after all, an age-old way to bring down the oppressors. But Angel didn’t appear to be using the information he gleaned to smash the system, but rather to bolster it up. Maybe there was some reasoning behind his methods that he chose not to share at the moment. Giles hoped so: the thought of Angel becoming a servant of the Senior Partners filled him with dread.

Angel, for his part, was revelling in the way he was able to pull people’s strings. Spike was so easy; all he had to do was remind him that people were easily hurt, fragile, and he was falling in line. Well, almost. He still had that uncanny knack of making people empathise with him despite the history of slaughter he brought with him. And that walking out through closed doors gig was getting old. The sooner his people found out what would make the undead completely dead, the better. And he meant his real people, not the watcher and his children. No, the whole research corps of Wolfram and Hart was working round the clock to solve the mystery of Spike. He would be rid of him and then Buffy would be his again.

“Angel, ah – would you be so kind as to allow me to work with Wesley on this? He is familiar with your facilities and I’m sure with our combined efforts we’ll be able to solve the mystery of Spike’s appearance and anchor him to this plane.”

“I’d like to help too, Mr. Giles, if I may?”

Giles turned to smile at the eager brunette. “Of course, Winifred. I’d be delighted to have your assistance.”

“Call me Fred…everybody does, really – Winifred is just for my folks.”

“Certainly.” He turned back to Angel. “Well, unless there’s something else…”

“Sure, Giles, you go and find out how to exorcise the ghost. I want him gone, and sooner rather than later. Just ask Wesley to show you around.” With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed them both, his head bent to the papers on his desk. Giles gritted his teeth at yet more evidence of Angel’s change of demeanour. Something was definitely wrong.

Angel looked up as the door shut behind the two, his eyes burning with venom. Giles may have to be taken out of the picture. He had years of experience in solving unsolvable problems, and that knowledge may give Angel the means to get rid of Spike. But if Giles was to find a way to bring him back entirely… that couldn’t be allowed to happen. No, he’d have Giles watched even more closely. Then he could cull him if he became troublesome.

He reached for the ‘phone to make the necessary call. And where was Willow? She’d been sent for too, and he didn’t like to be disobeyed. He flicked the monitors on, searching for her. He didn’t like what he saw….

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

Spike and Willow were at the entrance to the hospital wing. Willow glanced at her companion as he fell behind her. Any reservation she may have harboured over what she was about to do left her as she gazed at his face.

“Spike?”

“Give us a minute, Red. I’m scared shitless all of a sudden, belly’s jigging about like a ferret in a sack.”

“It’ll be fine, Spike, trust me. Do you want me to go in, talk to her?”

He fixed her with his conflicted blue eyes. “Yeah, pet; reckon that’d be best. I’ll just wait here, you can give me a signal – owl hoot or whatnot?” He smiled, an attempt at flippant.

“Okay, I’ll give you a shout. Just don’t go away. Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“She loves you. That’s all that matters.”

He smiled and nodded in response, not able to form words. Willow held his gaze, willing him to take strength. After all the years of not believing him capable of loving Buffy and definitely not wanting anything to happen between the vampire and slayer, she was now absolutely certain that this was the right thing to do. Maybe it was her connection with the earth, the serenity she’d found since she channelled the scythe’s energy through herself and the slayers, but whatever it was – when something was in tune with the world, meant to be, the harmonics resonated through her. She hadn’t realised it until Spike had done the whole ghost routine and walked through her a few minutes ago. After she’d overcome her initial revulsion, the witch in residence had analysed the sensation and come up with the solution. His aura complemented Buffy’s perfectly; it wasn’t the same exactly, but the two connected. Obviously the Powers had chosen the Slayer and her Champion to have more than a momentary link; what their plan was she had no clue but she was anxious to find out. Gifting him with a reassuring smile, she went to talk to her best friend.

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

Angel was screaming down the ‘phone. “Get me the mystic now! I don’t care! Just get him…don’t make me come down there…thank you, you’ve just saved your life….”

He smashed the receiver down, then in a fit of rage picked up the telephone and hurled it at the opposite wall. He was having a hard time restraining the demon, the urge to rip and rend becoming stronger with each passing second.

Willow had just been upgraded from irritant to victim. Not only had she disobeyed him, she was actively helping Spike get to Buffy. He didn’t have any delusions about the situation; Buffy didn’t love him – she loved Spike. The Scoobies had proven themselves on many occasions as being more than adept at ripping apart a conundrum. Given time, the combined brainpower of the watcher, the witch and the one-eyed waste of space might give Buffy what she most desired.

Unless he stopped them.

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

Spike watched through the window as Willow approached Buffy and Dawn. Buffy had fallen asleep, her head resting on Dawn’s hand as it lay still and pale on the covers, the book she’d been reading open in her lap. Her honey-gold hair was cascading across her cheek, her face as she slept innocent and wiped free of care. If he hadn’t already loved her with all that he was, he’d be lost in her. As it was, he ached so badly to hold her, kiss her, feel her skin beneath his hands, that it was painful.

He gasped as Willow shook her gently to wake her, hating her initial confusion and immediate panic as she located Dawn and checked on her vitals. He noted Willow’s hesitation, and then listened in as she began to explain the situation.

“So, erm…Buffy…you know you were telling us about Spike and the whole flame-y hands thing, the soul shining?”

“Willow…I…I can’t talk about it. You know, I’m going crazy here – I keep thinking I can feel him, you know? How deranged is that…but what with the lack of sleep and the worry…” Buffy sighed, dragging her hands through her hair then settling back in the chair.

Willow’s eyes remained focused on Buffy’s, the witch’s resolve face to the fore.

“Okay; I can see you’ve got the bit between your teeth. What do you want to know?”

“It’s actually…what do you want to know?”

“Huh?”

Spike moved forwards slightly as the redhead pulled up a chair opposite the confused Slayer. He didn’t want to miss this.

“Buffy…the feelings you’ve been having, sensing Spike…there’s a reason….”

Buffy sighed. “Yeah, I guessed so. It’s this place…it gives me the huge wiggins, Willow. I don’t trust anybody here…except Angel, of course.”

Willow didn’t comment, keeping her feelings about Angel and his priorities to herself.

“No, Buffy. That’s not it…well, actually…it probably is but the thing is…you see, Spike…what I’m trying to say is….”

“Oh for god’s sake, Red, spit it out! I’m dying here!”

Buffy whipped her head round, the familiar voice hitting her right in her gut and shattering her heart into a million pieces.

She stood, the book in her lap sliding to the floor with a crash.

“Spike!” she gasped faintly as he walked through the door to stand at the side of Dawn’s bed. “Spike…”

“Yeah, kitten. I’m back.”

Blue eyes met green; twin looks of awe plastered on their faces as they each drank in the sight of the other. Buffy took a step forward; Spike, a step back.

“Spike… how…I don’t understand…?”

“It’s complicated, sweetheart. Red here’s gonna help Tex figure it out, but right now…you are so beautiful…”

Buffy’s eyes never left the glorious sight of her lover, memorising every angle of his cheekbones, every sinew, just in case it was a dream. She rushed towards him, and then stopped bewildered as he danced out of her reach.

“Buffy! Don’t…I need to talk to you…”

“What is going on? Willow?”

“We don’t know yet, Buffy. But Fred and I will get to the bottom of it – Giles too. But look…Spike!”

Buffy nodded wordlessly, not trusting herself to be able to speak past the lump in her throat. The next sound she uttered was a cry of anguish as she literally saw Spike fade to nothing before her eyes.

Chapter 9

“Willow! What happened? Where’s he gone? I must be going crazy.”

Buffy was frantically searching the room, tears streaming down her face as she began to panic.

“Buffy, please…just calm down. You’re not crazy. Please, sit…Buffy, you’re making me dizzy. Sit.”

The agitated Slayer sat, her eyes darting here and there as she continued searching for Spike. The look on her face twisted a knife in Willow’s gut, so much pain; it took her breath away.

“Buffy, it is Spike -- but there’s a problem. In fact, there’s more than one now… No, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see he just appeared right in the middle of Angel’s office a couple of days ago. Don’t know how or why yet, …it’ll be okay, Giles is on it and Wesley is helping. But, Buffy, he didn’t come back the same.”

“But he is all right, isn’t he? He’s my Spike? I saw him, Willow. Where is he? Is this some cosmic joke, dangle the Slayer a carrot then whip it away when she wants a nibble?”

“He’s the real deal, Buffy, but not so much solid...kinda ghostly… God this is confusing. He can’t touch anything and he can walk right through you, but that vanishing act was a first, never done that before. We’re not sure what he is but we’re on it; trust me.”

Willow grasped Buffy’s restless hands, urging her to have faith.

“But he’s really here?” Buffy whispered, her voice incredulous and full of longing.

“Spike’s really really here, Buffy. Honest injun!” Willow grinned at her friend, noting the tiny smile playing around her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes. She looked alive for the first time since the Hellmouth collapsed.

A blast of air rattled the equipment surrounding Dawn’s bed making Buffy and Willow jump in alarm.

A voice growled, “Bloody hell!” as a leather-clad figure materialised at the foot of the bed. Buffy stepped towards him, wanting to be near him even if she couldn’t hold him.

“Spike,” she whispered, her eyes filled with tears. “Spike.” Despite herself she raised a hand to cradle his cheek. A tingle shot through her as her hand sank into his spectral face. Buffy jumped back a little in shock.

Spike lifted his hand to where she’d caressed his cheek. “Luv, you touched me! I can feel you…”

“Me too! Like… electricity….”

Tears welled in his fathomless blue eyes as he slowly extended his hand, fingers trembling as he neared her skin. He fixed his eyes on hers, drowning in the love he saw there. Bloody hell! She’d really meant it, in the Hellmouth. He hesitated, overwhelmed by the emotions he was feeling. He drew in a ragged, needless breath.

“Buffy….”

Then he felt it, not quite like a stroke of skin on skin, more a charged frisson buzzing along his fingers, his hand. But it was there – contact. Buffy’s gasp told him she felt it too. Maybe Fred had found something out, started messing with stuff…..

Willow watched the interplay with interest. Neither realised it but they were outlined in a pale blue light, their auras intermingling and swirling together as one. Definitely a question for the coven.

One thing was certain; the happiness they radiated at just this slight contact was tangible in its intensity. The Powers That Be must have a purpose for bringing Spike back, it was the only answer that made sense.

Spike and Buffy were frozen, eyes locked, hands hovering above skin as their auras pulsed around them.

“Guys? Can I conduct a little experiment? Guys? Hey! Buffy, Spike…hello?”

Willow’s attempts to distract the pair were useless. Neither of them was letting go of the connection. She shrugged as she barged her way between the two of them. She had to know one way or the other.

And then she knew… She walked right through Spike but felt only a strange and slightly unsettling sensation like moving through gloop. Not a trace of the electric shock thingy. That was obviously a Spike and Buffy special. Hmm. Major research needed here.

Willow stepped back, started to speak then gave it up, the ceiling could collapse and they wouldn’t notice. She wouldn’t be missed.

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

The mystic was held captive, flat on the desk in Angel’s office, the vampire’s meaty hand clamped round his neck in a crushing grip.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but I thought I told you to get rid of him. Now, is there any absence of Spike on that monitor…no? You see my problem…” The purpled face tried to croak.

“What was that?” Realising why the mystic couldn’t speak, Angel released his throat.

“Mr Angel…sir…take time to erode his influence on this plane… I need to key into his essence. I’ll be successful, but it isn’t an instant fix.”

Angel’s scowl and snarl combined forced the mystic’s heartbeat to race as he felt himself losing control of his bodily functions. He’d faced death a thousand times, been tortured in untold dimensions; but he’d never been more afraid than he was now facing this monster in human clothing.

“So, tell me what you need, how it’s gonna be.”

Cowering, the minion of Wolfram and Hart outlined his plan. Angel smiled. He liked it. A lot.

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

Xander was on his way to visit Dawn, part of the daily routine that anchored him to this world when he’d really rather be lying in Anya’s arms in the next. Willow had insisted he get involved in caring for Dawn. To be honest, he’d wanted to stay away from the whole sickness gig, his last time in hospital not really being the highlight of his life, but Willow had laid the guilt trip on and he’d thought of Dawn lying alone in her sickbed and he’d caved, as always, to Willow’s demands. Except Dawn never was alone, Buffy being a permanent fixture at her bedside.

Time spent with Dawn meant time spent with Buffy, and even though his feelings for her were no longer of a groping nature, he still got an inner happy at being in her presence. It reminded him of better times, simpler times; times when the three of them had faced monsters and vampires with a smile and a quip, and still managed to turn in their homework the next day. Well, ok, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration…

Vampires. They still gave him the heebies. He didn’t like them. Angel would always be the guy who got the girl to him, but more than that he was the first vampire who had forced him to realise that the world wasn’t simple black and white, bad guys versus good guys; it made him grow up. Angel personified for him, in stark terms, the internal battle everyone fought, to do good when the temptation to do evil was so strong. And Angel somehow beat back that temptation every time. It pissed him off.

Then there was Spike. Not only did the son of a bitch end up with a soul by enduring immeasurable pain and suffering for the woman he loved – if you believed that one - and saved the goddamn world and every person in it, but he was somehow good enough to start saving people before he got the sodding soul. And if that wasn’t enough, he was obviously still in with the Powers That Be, because instead of being a big pile of dust he was back here to bugger up the works. AND GOD! He was even starting to talk like the British bastard.

Xander scowled as he walked. It just wasn’t right. Why Spike? Why not Anya? How come his bright, beautiful girl could get gutted saving a geek like Andrew and stay rotting in the ground, but a vicious killer like Spike got mojoed back from beyond?

Xander’s conscience kept whispering to him ‘but he has a soul, he died to save the world’. So what? Soul or no soul he’d have to go a long way to gain his trust, and he still didn’t get the thing with Spike and Buffy. What could she possibly see in him that would last beyond the grave, would make her grieve to the extent that she was shutting the world out? He’d never get it. He didn’t want to.

He scuffed his feet as he made his way to the hospital wing, his mood had become sombre and his scowl marred his damaged features. He wasn’t really in any shape to look at Dawn and deal with his helplessness; he’d just drop in say hello and skedaddle to the comfort of a bottle of scotch.

‘Make that two,’ he thought as he pushed open the door. Spike. Here. With Buffy!

Xander snarled as he zeroed in on the two standing oblivious to everything but each other. Spike’s outline was slightly fuzzy where it touched Buffy’s body -- or not touching, as there was nothing to touch – his presence shimmering slightly. It was like an optical illusion; if you didn’t see Spike’s form next to the solidity of Buffy’s you wouldn’t be able to notice any difference, but right up against it there was a hazy quality to the vampire.

Xander was disgusted; he hadn’t reckoned on being so freaked at seeing Buffy and Spike in close proximity. After Buffy broke down and swore undying love for dead boy, in front of them all, Xander had felt a little guilty at being so anti-Spike when he was around. He hated to see Buffy so upset, empathised with her, having gone through the same feelings when Anya didn’t make it at the High School. But he just couldn’t shake off the deep-seated distrust and resentment that vampires brought out in him, and had done ever since his best friend Jesse fell victim to one during Buffy’s early days on the Hellmouth. His mind replayed the same scene, Jesse’s ridged brow and fangs, voice dripping with disdain as he lunged into Xander – then the dust when the stake pierced his heart.

Vampires were bad. There was no grey, no scales of badness…they were simply evil. Xander clung to this comforting belief, wrapping it around himself like a threadbare familiar sweater and ignoring the holes he found in it. Angel? Soul, yeah – but one whiff of happy and he was murdering Angelus again. Spike? Soul…again yeah but look why he got it, to get into Buffy’s pants. And the saving the world? Probably a coincidence and Spike was now trying to cash in on it. No, Xander Harris was firmly of the opinion that unless you possessed a soul, a beating heart, and were from the genus homo sapiens, you were a black hat.

So…. seeing the evil undead tenderly hover his hand above Buffy’s cheek and hearing her sigh in rapture, he was beyond pissed.

‘This can’t be happening. But if it is, I’m having nothing to do with it.’ Xander turned on his heel and stormed out of the sickroom, the reunited lovers blissfully unaware of his visit.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Buffy whispered, eyes raking his face, his body.

“I’m here…with you…not going anywhere, pet. Well…maybe I can’t promise that, what with the Will o’ the Wisp effect going on. But I’ll always find my way back to you, Buffy. Trust me.”

Buffy cried softly, the turmoil inside her spilling out in salty tears. She’d bound grief around her shattered heart for so long. Every breath she took eased its hold on her. Another breath, another loosening. She felt like an addict, but instead of being addicted to something that had made her feel good, she’d fed on the misery of her heartache to make sure she never forgot him. And now he was here, standing in front of her, his eyes glittering with unshed tears as he drank in every detail.

“You’ve lost weight, luv,” he murmured softly. “And you look exhausted. Let Red see to the Niblet for a while. You need some rest.” He stroked her cheek gently as he spoke, the contact fizzing along her skin and back up his hand. Buffy closed her eyes and leant her face into his palm.

“No, I want to stay with you. I catch a few hours here and there, I’ll be fine.”

“I watched you.”

Buffy’s eyes sprung open. “You watched me? When? Why didn’t you let me see you?”

“Bit difficult, kitten. Didn’t want to give you any more worries, reckon you’ve got enough on your plate. It’s only been a short while anyway, and now I’m here. When I saw you…didn’t think I’d ever see you again after the hole in the ground fiasco. Bloody hell – I nearly passed out when I spotted you through that window.” He indicated with a nod of his head to the far side of the room.

“I knew it! I bloody knew it! I told Willow I could feel you. Nobody ever raised the hairs on the back of my neck like you do, whether you were wanting to kill me or kiss me.”

“Speaking of…c’mere, Buffy.” The air in the room seemed to thicken, all sound faded except for Buffy’s racing heartbeat as the distance between them melted away.

It was a soft touch, a feather-light whisper of sensation. Buffy closed her eyes as tingles traced across her lips; tentatively she brought her hands up to caress the back of his head, her fingers drifting along the outline she felt fizzing beneath them. Spike’s arms wrapped her against him until they were touching, head to toe, a slight resistance as Buffy tried to get closer to him marking the limits of his presence.

She couldn’t help the moans of ecstasy that escaped her mouth at the flickers of energy that rippled through her. Spike gently teased her with the effervescent presence of his tongue. Her body felt limp, a combination of lack of sleep, the torpor after elation and the swoon that wicked tongue always wrought..

“Erm…Buffy? Spike? Wow! You guys are setting off some fireworks in the stratosphere; your auras are sparking off each other. It’s pretty…” Willow finished lamely.

Reluctantly the two stepped apart, yet stayed close enough to keep the current flowing.

“Find anything out, Red?”

“Not yet, but I will! I’ve got Fred on the case and she’s way smarter than I am. Well, maybe not way…but she’s got some moves I hadn’t thought of with the whole dimensional shift stuff. We’ll crack it. Just have patience.” She finished her little announcement with a shy Willow smile.

“I know you will. And in the meantime I have myself a regular dynamo to keep me tingling.” Buffy gifted the power pack in question with a dazzling smile that finished in a hastily stifled yawn.

“That’s it; you need some rest. You’ll be no good for the ‘Bit if you’re knackered, now. Let Red here take a turn sitting, just go and snatch a few hours’ kip. I’ll come with you…for as long as I’m sparking. Never know what the bloody hell’s gonna happen next.”

Buffy looked at her sister, surrounded by tubes and machines. She was torn. She was tired, beyond tired. She’d barely closed her eyes the last few days since Dawn had succumbed to whatever had her in its grip. Her entire body ached from days hunched on the chair from hell. She knew he was right, but she was reluctant to leave.

“Go on, Buffy. I’ll be here. You may have slayer strength but you’re not invincible. What could you do now feeling as you do? I’ll wake you in a couple of hours, I promise.”

Willow’s soft smile lit up her features; Buffy looked from her best friend’s eager face to the much-memorised visage of her lover. He nodded slowly.

“Come on, luv. Come with me.”

Buffy started to walk away from the bed, throwing a haunted look back to the still, pale form under the glaring overhead light. Willow sat down on the chair and retrieving Buffy’s book from the floor, skimmed the pages. Quietly, she started reading to the sleeping girl, scooting the chair closer to the bed and waving Buffy off with one hand.

With a resigned sigh, she reached for Spike’s hand, thrilling in the sparks she felt as her body neared his. Making up her mind, she moved out before she changed it. At the door she turned again. “Two hours, Willow. Promise me you’ll call me if there’s any change. Anything at all. You promise?”

“I promise. Now go. Rest. I’ll be here.”

With a grateful smile and another yawn, Buffy headed to her room – or rather Angel’s room that she’d commandeered on her first night in LA.

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

“Bastard. Cold blooded, dead, evil, bastard.” Xander punctuated his vitriolic mutters with shots of bourbon. “Don’t know how she can stand to touch him.”

Another shot. A pause. “Touch him? How the hell did she touch him?”

“Xan-man – your depth perception is way off base. She can’t touch him, he’s not really here. I wish!” A mirthless chuckle.

Xander was two-thirds of the way through the first bottle he’d liberated from the drinks cabinet in the boardroom, his feet resting on the polished surface of the desk. The double doors swung open. Xander barely moved to acknowledge Lorne as he edged into the room.

Another bloody demon. He didn’t know this Lorne, didn’t need to either. No, once he was sure that Dawn was on the mend he was heading out of here to go rot in some god-awful backwater that had never heard of vampires or demons or Hellmouths. He’d had his fill of supernatural; give him natural any day.

“This a private wake or can anybody join in?”

Xander shrugged. “It’s a free country.”

Lorne sat a little way down from the glowering thundercloud, not wanting to get cozy. The waves of anger and loathing were just rolling off him! Didn’t need a ditty to read this one. A green hand reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels from in front of the human. “May I?”

“It’s not mine.”

Hmm, monosyllabic was not Lorne’s choice of communication but he’d work with what he had.

“So, what’s the sitch on the littlest Summers?”

“Don’t ask me…ask Spike!”

Ahhhh. There was the cause of the iceman cometh. Spike. Well, from what he’d heard he did have the gift of bursting people’s freakometers. Time to test the waters of Lake Not So Placid.

“Spike, yeah. Perky little poltergeist, isn’t he? Bet little Miss Goldilocks is just bursting now he’s back. Well, kinda back. Is he with her now?”

Xander didn’t answer, just nodded.

“Well, here’s to them. I’d say the lady deserved some happiness, wouldn’t you?”

“Happiness yes, but not with that. Never.” Xander grabbed the bottle and upended a huge measure into his glass before glugging it down in one.

Lorne settled back into his chair. This may be a long night.

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

Buffy closed the door behind her with a soft click, leaning back against it as she fought the overwhelming urge to sleep. Another yawn made her eyes water.

“Come on, luv, let’s get you into bed.” Spike spoke softly as he hovered around her to lead her to the comfort of the soft mattress. He cursed his inability to touch again as he couldn’t even turn back the covers for her.

She stumbled forwards, on autopilot as she dragged her heavy limbs across the plush carpet. Reaching the bed she sat down heavily, head drooping as she fought to stay awake.

“Rest back, luv. Don’t mind the sheets – bet there’s plenty more where they came from. Just swing your feet up, boots and all. I’d help you get them off but…” He shrugged, waving useless hands.

Succumbing to the pull of sleep she lay down, fully dressed, and let her eyes drift closed. Spike watched her as her breathing evened out, marvelling at how her face softened in sleep. He could watch her like this forever; it reminded him of the night in the abandoned house, when he’d found her after the Faith debacle. How he ached to hold her close against him. Bugger it.

He nearly missed her whisper. “What was that, Buffy?”

“Lie with me…for a little while.”

He didn’t know if he could do it, but he sure as hell was going to try. He slid onto the surface of the bed; so far so good, it hadn’t swallowed him. Gingerly he moved so that he was behind her, then slowly inched closer until he felt the tingle of her touch. Tentatively he draped his arm around her, feeling the resistance of her body against him. Buffy’s breathing deepened as she finally let go, her lips curved in a smile.