“Buffy?"

Spike hesitantly knelt down next to the huddled girl. Once she had realised what Dracula had made her into, the small blonde had leapt from the bed and hidden in the far corner of the room. She sat there rocking back and forth, big fat tears pouring down her face, as the memories of her turning and everything that followed flooded back to her. Spike reached over and tentatively stroked her hair; he hated seeing the usually strong warrioress he had fought against and with over the years reduced to a weeping bundle.

"I need a bath,” she muttered. "Feel dirty." Buffy sniffled pathetically and wiped her face with her hands.

"Okay, pet. Come on, I'll show you where the tub is." Spike reached over and took one of her hands and pulled her tenderly to her feet. "You sure you need another bath?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Umm… well… nothing." Spike realised that she may not appreciate him having seen her bits and pieces. He rubbed the back of his head, amazed at the feeling of embarrassment that flooded him. ‘I’m evil! Wot the ruddy hell am I feeling bad about…’ He looked up at Buffy and realised that when it came to the small woman in front of him, he couldn’t count on not feeling. She evoked a barrage of emotions - some old, and some new and delicate. He fervently hoped that the feelings of love and affection wouldn’t diminish.

They felt good and made him feel alive.

He stared down at his Childe - amazed how much had changed so quickly -and silently vowed never to let her down.

Buffy glanced down at her sleeping clothes; her hand went to her damp curling hair as realisation dawned on her. "You gave me a bath?" Her voice rose in embarrassment.

Spike jerked his head down and suddenly found his toes very interesting.

A small hand reached up and cupped his chin, forcing him to face her. "Spike, did you give me a bath?" Buffy briefly wondered why the idea of Spike seeing her naked didn't bother her, instead it warmed her and filled her with a riot of emotions and feelings that puzzled her and at the same time excited her. Buffy pushed all these jumbled emotions aside and trusting her instincts decided to let Spike look after her.

Spike nodded as he pushed open the door. "I just wanted to help. Didn't want that bastard's touch on you..." he trailed off unwilling to mention that he knew she and Dracula had been intimate.

"Spike, could…did you smell…oh god, this is humiliating." Buffy would have been blushing if she could. "If you did it's okay, and thank you for getting rid of, well, you know..."

Spike nodded jerkily. "Here, there's a few bubbly things for your soak, towels and soap. I'll just let you be?" He led her to the bathroom and hovered shyly at the door.

Buffy shook her head. "Can you stay?" She was amazed at her lack of modesty. This was her biggest enemy and here she was asking him to stay and watch over her in the tub. Buffy shook her head at the strange turn of events.

Spike gulped. "Do what?"

"I feel safe when you're around." Buffy whispered. She felt needy and scared. It was Spike’s presence that offered her a sense of safety and calm. Buffy was bewildered by this but at the same time accepted it. Instinctively, the newly turned vampire knew her Sire would protect her.

"Then I'll stay right here with you, Pet." Spike bowed gallantly. He was completely confused by the total change of attitude Buffy was showing and the ease in which he accepted it. He had expected a stake through the heart or at the very least a thump on the nose followed by her rapid exit. Spike had thought that the diminutive woman huddled in his bathtub would have been the same self-possessed Slayer he had fought against and with over the years and would have left him for her Scoobies without a backwards glance. Instead she was turning to him for comfort and love, just like any newly fledged Childe. He was bewildered but elated…

Buffy filled the tub with bubble bath and water and she stripped off. Smiling at Spike turning his back, she rolled her eyes at his sudden bashfulness. Slipping off the t-shirt, Buffy stepped into the tub and sank in up to her chin. "You can turn around now."

Spike stood for a second, the muscles in his back tense, his hands clenched into fists. Sighing he turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Buffy's face peering back at him, the bubbles covered her body completely.

He sank to his knees by the bath. "Shall I get a cool flannel for your eyes?"

"Thank you," Buffy dipped under the water and resurfaced.

"Here." Spike handed the flannel to her and watched as she patted it under her eyes. His finger’s twitched and he suppressed the urge to snatch it from her hand and bath her face for her. Spike’s awe-filled gaze never wavered from her eyes until Buffy closed them and he glanced down at her soft lips. Spike took an un-needed breath and he reached out tentatively and finally let his fingers curve against her cheek and he sighed happily as she pressed her face into his hand. Spike revelled in the sensation of her soft cool skin.

Her hand slid under the water and pressed against her chest, trying to find a heartbeat. "It's so quiet,” she whispered.

"What is, Pet?"

"Everything. I can't hear my heart. I'm dead."

"I know. But hey, you're still pretty," he offered lamely.

"Help me?" Buffy's plaintiff plea warmed Spike's heart.

"I will, Pet. Anything you want." He promised.

"How did you get me away from him?"

Spike sighed; he had hoped to avoid this conversation. But he knew that his Slayer was nothing if not stubborn and if he didn’t answer he might/would get bopped on the nose for his troubles. A small wet hand appeared over the lip off the tub; Spike took it and gently squeezed it. His cockney accent dropped away and smoothed into his long forgotten cultured tones as he explained to Buffy how he had managed to rescue her from Dracula's clutches.

She remained silent throughout the entire story. Her mind filled with images of Venice; Dracula, Spike and their adventures in the Italian city. His voice was soothing and as he trailed off, they both sat there holding each other’s hands.

With a shudder Buffy recalled initially rejecting Dracula’s advances, which led to him hitting her. She remembered fighting him tooth and nail, until he restrained her. Then his eyes had glowed and she succumbed to his touch- even welcomed it.

Buffy tried to suppress the memories of being a willing participant in Dracula's seduction, but failed. She rubbed her thighs together at the memory of her erstwhile Sire's tongue exploring and tasting her soft folds as she lay back keening her joy. She could feel herself opening her legs and guiding Dracula's erection into her and could recall her sighs of satisfaction as he pounded into her over and over. What she didn't understand was why she had let him rather than fighting him off. She could also feel the other Brides touching her and caressing her, that was when she had struggled and fought, until Dracula caught her chin in his hands and forced her to gaze again into his hypnotic eyes.

"He had you under his control, some sorta gyspy nonsense." Spike's voice broke through her thoughts. "It was awful, Buffy. All your spark was gone. You were a puppet." He sighed, his hand tightening reflexively on hers.

'Oh, so that's why I couldn't fight him off.' Buffy felt sick and violated at her will being taken away from her, being unwilling or even unable to stop them.

"So, I reminded him he owed me and was right surprised when he gave you up with only a token quibble." Spike glanced over at Buffy, and smirked. "Betcha were a right pain in the arse always fighting him?"

"I tried, sometimes I did and then other times I couldn't, he wouldn't let me." Buffy whispered.

"S'all right now, Slayer. You’re safe."

"I know, you saved me!" Buffy's voice was filled with an incredulous gratitude.

Spike ducked his head, embarrassed.

"Why did you save me, Spike?"

Spike hesitated, unsure as to how much of his feelings he should expose to the tiny woman soaking in the tub next to him. "S'not right wot he did. I couldn't leave you there, letting him touch you with his grubby mitts." Spike trailed off. He took a breath. "Look, I know you don't like me or whatnot but let me help you, make you strong and I'll have your back when you go after the Tranny Vamp."

Buffy giggled at Spike's last insult. "I trust you, Spike. Don't know why, but I do." She lifted her free hand and pulled a face, "eww… pruny hand." She scrunched her nose at her Sire and wriggled her fingers at him. Buffy wondered if her trust for Spike was due to him being her Sire. She recalled all the lectures Giles had given her on Vampiric codes and familial bonds. One of the main themes was the Sire/Childe bond and the trust and love that they shared. Buffy wondered if that was what she was feeling or if it was more than that…

Spike stood and reluctantly released her hand; he pulled open a large towel and held it up. "Hop out, pet."

Before he could turn his head Buffy stood, water streaming off her body. Bubbles sliding down her supple form, Spike tried not to gulp and failed. She stepped out and let him wrap it around her.

"Thanks," she eyed him solemnly and then surprising them both, she grinned. "FYI Spike, I know why I trust you." She paused for a moment and with a wicked gleam in her eyes, she toddled out of the bathroom.

"Well?" Spike followed her out into the bedroom.

"Well what?" Buffy asked innocently as she searched through her suitcase for a brush and sat down on the bed and began to pull it through her hair.

"Why do you trust me?" Spike crossed his arms over his bare chest and cocked his head questioningly.

"You saved me, whereas my best friend fed me to the lions." Buffy grimaced at the memory of Xander walking towards her with a guileless smile on his face. "He knocked me out and delivered a Slayer takeout to that bastard. I know you'd never do that to me."

Spike nodded. "Too right, but in the Whelp's defence…" he trailed off, wondering to himself why he was even trying to defend the Judas nit.

Buffy held up a small, imperious hand. "Don't, Spike. Xander knew what he was doing, he did it off his own back. It's not like Dracula ordered or forced him to do it."

Buffy’s eyes filled with lavender sparkles as she recalled Xander’s words to Dracula as he offered his best-friend up as a sacrificial lamb. Xander had begged to be turned as a reward for bringing the Slayer as a gift. She could hear Drac’s laughter as he took her bound and struggling form off Xander. With a single glance the Master Vampire had removed her will and she had slumped lax in his cool arms. She could hear Xander begging for the Dark Gift from the vampire. Buffy’s heart had broken when she had realised from Xander’s ramblings that it had been his idea and not Dracula’s to bring her to him as a gift…a plaything…to be toyed with as he wished.

Her best-friend had betrayed her.

She sighed heavily, “I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for that and I know I’ll never be able to trust him again!”

Spike nodded. "So you trust me cos I didn't betray you and rescued you? Anything else?" He couldn't help but push. Spike had never dreamt that he and the Slayer would ever have a conversation like this. She trusted him, Spike swore to himself that he would never betray that trust.

"Oh I dunno, Sire." Buffy arched her fine blond brow at Spike.

Spike shuffled on his feet, amazed that she recalled the transfer of Sire. His thumb rubbed over the faint scar on his neck. He didn't know what to say.

"Spike, I understand. It had to be done otherwise I'd still be zombie Buffy." Buffy stood and tightened the towel around her; she walked over and laid her hand over the scar on his neck. "Thank you," she added quietly.

Spike jerked back slightly at the sensation of Buffy again voluntarily touching him - well without violence that is.

"Buffy. Slayer. I swear I'll never use Sire rights over you, I promise."

"I know you won't." Before she could say anything else her stomach growled loudly. They both glanced down at it.

"Could you possibly be hungry?" Spike smirked.

Buffy nodded.

"Get dressed and I'll find you some nosh." Spike pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and walked out of the room, his bare feet slapping on the wood floor.

"You don't mind, do you?" Buffy asked as she walked down the stairs. She had dressed in some shorts and Spike’s discarded t-shirt; long fluffy white socks adorned her small feet. "Wow! This place is amazing, where are we?"

"My place, sort of a getaway I set up a few years back," Spike replied as he readied two mugs of blood. "Also, don’t mind what?"

Buffy stood in the centre of the room, her eyes taking in the décor and the warm ambience. "Huh? Oh! Being my surrogate Sire."

Spike whirled; his eyes flashed gold as his lumpies appeared for a brief second. "Not a surrogate, your mine and I'll protect you til I'm ashes."

Buffy hesitated for a second at the sight of Spike's game face, 'wow he's cute when he's mad!' She fiddled with the waistband of her shorts, "thought you said no grr Sirey stuff upstairs?"

"Nothing surrogate about what we went through. You're my Childe. My only one! If anything or anyone tries to touch or hurt you, I'll eviscerate them. I promise! Let you down once and I’m not doing it again."

Buffy walked over to the distraught vampire and cautiously patted him on the shoulder. "Spike, it's okay. I mean it's not okay, cos hello, creature of the night here, but we'll deal!"

Before Buffy could move, Spike's arms whipped around her and pulled her tight against his body. They stood wrapped around each other for several minutes until the microwave beeped at them.

Buffy’s skin twitched involuntarily at the remembered sensation of his tongue trailing through her blood, as her Sire watched her face, silently revelling in her fear and horror of what she had become.

Her muscles locked as Buffy remembered refusing to drink from her Sire and he beat her until she submitted, reluctantly sinking her teeth into his wrist and swallowing the borrowed blood that ran through his body. A chill ran down her spine that the memory of her enjoyment at the taste of her Sire’s blood…at the delight at the taste of blood. In Buffy’s mind her reaction to the power blood was the ultimate betrayal of her Calling.

Buffy gagged and swallowed and tried to stop the memories by shaking her head.

But it didn’t work…

The worst was yet to come…

Buffy eye’s filled with tears and they fell unchecked as she saw the three Brides drag in a struggling man. How they had taunted her, mocking the fallen Slayer and saying that she was no longer a Champion but a creature of darkness like them…a creature bound to blood lust. Buffy had tried to escape Dracula’s grasp and escape from the carnal house Xander had delivered her too.

But she failed.

Buffy’s mind shut down as she tried to repress the memories of the events that followed. Ones that had been brought back at the sight of the crimson fluid Spike had given to her in the mug. Her entire being froze. The tears poured down her face and her mouth opened in a silent wail.

Spike’s nostrils flared as the scent of her terror and anguish filled the room. He looked up from the shattered mug and his face dropped at the sight of his Childe paralysed in anguish.

Spike reached out to her, to try and comfort her. "Buffy, stop it love." Spike stepped forward and then howled in pain. He reached down and pulled a shard of ceramic from his heel. Tossing it aside he reached for the catatonic girl in front of him.

Buffy had retreated within herself. The memories of Dracula’s Brides bringing a young college boy to her and her Sire ordering her to feed filled her mind. Bending over she heaved and then threw up, her eyes watering under the strain of her vomiting. She felt Spike's arms around her as he steadied her shuddering form. In the distance she could hear him murmuring reassuringly.

"Oh god! I killed someone! He made me drain that poor boy, I think I knew him from school, Warren Meers…I’m not sure if that was his name, but I think so… Spike, it hurts," She whimpered.

Spike grimaced down at the mess on the kitchen floor as he swung Buffy into his arms. He sat down on the large sofa, Buffy resting her head on his shoulder. Reaching behind him he grabbed a throw and draped it over her.

“I know Slayer, m'sorry he did that. From wot he said, you were refusing to eat and he doesn't brown bag it and god, I'm sorry."

"Spike, I feel so guilty," Buffy whispered into his neck.

"Course you do luv, your soul is talking to you," Spike grimaced at the concept of a soul. But then he looked down at Buffy and was stunned when he realised that he would never have wanted to know her without her soul.

"I kept my soul?" Buffy titled her head back and gazed up at him. She smiled sadly, her hands pressed to her stomach and heart, "yeah, I can feel it."

"S'okay Pet. It's good, cos I know I wouldn't wanna know you if you were soulless." Spike tried to tease her and failed miserably, he was reacting to her sadness.

"Humph." Buffy. "You'd still have rescued me, William."

Spike sighed. "Yeah, probably."

They wrapped themselves around each other and sat there in silence. Spike offering his silent support as Buffy grieved, and tried to adjust to the idea that she had killed a mortal.

“You sure dey’re going to be all right?”

Whistler turned to the ghostly form of the fallen Slayer. “Yeah, they have to be. The Powers had to move pretty fast to fix this mess…but I think that Spike’ll surprise us all, including himself.”

“He might be a lowly Vampire… but he’ll take care of Buffy,” Kendra stood with her incorporeal arms crossed over her chest. Her face creased in a worried frown. “Don’t understand why you dragged me down here to see this, though.”

“We needed the spirit of a Slayer here in case there was trouble. I think Buffy would’ve listened to you if we needed to intervene, last time she saw me she wanted to make me into a party hat!” Whistler grinned at the memory of his exchange with the determined Slayer.

“It’s not fair what has happened to Buffy,” Kendra sighed.

“I know, but events changed and we needed to make sure she was safe and cared for. Most turned Slayers can’t cope with the transition from hunter to hunted.” Whistler adjusted his bowler hat. “We need her, she was the most powerful Slayer ever and now she’ll be unstoppable. We had to make sure she’d be strong enough to fight.”

“So, messing with her mind and the vampire’s is how you people work?” Kendra grunted in disapproval.

“Desperate times lead to desperate measures.” Whistler looked over at the disapproving Slayer. “What? You think removing some of her pain and easing the transition is wrong?”

“Yes…well no…I suppose not, as long as she will be alright?” Buffy’s sister Slayer asked.

“They both will be,” Whistler promised. “Come on, we’ve done all we can.”

“But I can keep an eye out for her?” Kendra asked as the two figures faded away.

Spike eased away from Buffy’s sleeping form. He quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor and heated some more blood. Taking them over to the coffee table he set them down before squatting next to Buffy. He ran his hand over her shoulder, rubbing gently.

“Buffy, wake up,” he whispered gently.

Buffy yawned revealing her fangs; she opened her lavender tinted eyes. The smell of the blood made her stomach rumble. “I can’t…” She sat up pressing her lips into a fine line.

“Luv, you have too. You’re starved, and you’re in game face.” Spike tentatively touched her cheek.

Buffy pulled away from his gentle touch and covered her face. “Don’t look at me. I’m ugly…” she wailed.

Spike chuckled.

The sound of his laughter made Buffy whip her hands from her face to glare at him.

“Are you laughing at me?” She pouted angrily, and then yelped when her fangs cut her lips.

Spike’s eyes were riveted to the small amount of blood on her lips. He shook himself.

“Buffy, you’re ruddy gorgeous.” He licked his lips imagining himself licking her pouting mouth and tasting her glorious blood.

“I’m lumpy and all grr faced and you thinking I’m pretty?” Buffy’s voice broke as she tried to suppress the feelings of horror that filled her.

“Give me your hands, pet,” Spike asked gently.

Buffy held out her shaking hands. Spike took them and raised them to her smooth forehead. “See no ridges…”

Buffy gasped in surprise, she pulled her hands away and ran them over her face. She frowned in surprise at the smoothness of her forehead.

“I don’t understand?” Gingerly she prodded her small fangs and squeaked when they pricked her fingers.

Spike suppressed his demon; acutely aware she would be disgusted if he licked her bleeding lips and fingers.

“Baby, you’re a marvel, all pretty with lavender eyes and teeny tiny little fangs. Hang on…” He leapt up and rummaged through a cupboard. “Here it is!” He whirled holding out a Polaroid camera, which he had left there on a previous visit.

“Why’ve you got a camera?” Buffy knelt and watched him over the back of the sofa.

“Gotta check the bleach is all over my head. Don’t want to end up looking like a skunk, do I?” Spike held up the camera. “Smile, Slayer.” With that he snapped a picture, the camera whirred and spat out a photograph. He pulled it out and shook it, to speed up the development process.

He leapt over the sofa and chuckled as she snatched the developing picture off him. Leaning over he snagged a mug and sipped at the cooling plasma to distract himself from the scent of her powerful blood.

Buffy watched as the picture developed and her mouth dropped open in surprise at the image of her face.

“I look like that?”

Spike glanced over and nodded. “Pretty as a picture, luv, now drink up!”

Buffy looked at the mug and grimaced. She shook her head, “I can’t…”

Spike sighed and reached over pulling her rigid form into his arms, he tilted his head back revealing his pale throat. “Drink from me then, Slayer…”

Buffy looked at his neck and licked her lips, her stomach rumbled but she still hesitated.

“It’s okay, just until you’re ready to brown bag it, but don’t take too much,” Spike rubbed her back soothingly. With that Buffy sank her teeth into his neck. He sighed as she began to tentatively drink from him.

Buffy groaned at the rich taste of his blood as it ran down her throat. Her mind began to fill with images. All their meetings and fights over the years, Spike’s gradual change towards her, his pride at her successes and most importantly the love that was budding in his undead heart…for her.

Spike cradled her drinking form close and tried to move her away from his hardening erection. ‘Last thing she needs to feel now is your stiffy, you git…’

Buffy wriggled as he tried to shift her, annoyed that he was trying to stop her drinking and seeing all that his blood revealed to her. The images shifted and the image of the original Slayer appeared in her mind, whispering that death was her gift and she had been given it sooner than was expected. Buffy pulled away reluctantly from her Sire’s neck with a gasp. Her eyes faded back to their normal colour and her fangs retracted, the demon in her was sated.

As she shifted Buffy became aware of something hard pressing against her. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Spike?” All thoughts of the First Slayer vanished in that instant as Buffy felt his arousal pressing against her thigh.

Spike pushed her gently off his lap and flipped the throw over his lap, trying to hide his erection. “Sorry, pet…”

Buffy stared at him with wide eyes for a second. She glanced down at his lap, her jaw dropping open in surprise. ‘He’s huge!’ Buffy slapped the side of her head with the heel of her hand and then leapt up and ran upstairs.

Spike glared down at his erection. “Nice going, mate…”

As day broke, the impasse between Spike and Buffy was still in place. The peroxide blond vampire was curled up on the sofa fast asleep and Buffy was wide-awake behind locked doors in the Master bedroom. For the last few hours she had lain on the silken coverlet and stared at the ceiling. One ear trained on the door, waiting to hear Spike's footsteps on the stairs. With mixed feelings she lay there alone for hours. Her mind ticking over the events of the past few days, she ached to call for Spike. Needing his company and reassurance, but the sensation against her thighs and buttocks of his erection chased away the words to call him before they left her lips.

If Buffy could have blushed, she would have been crimson.

It was huge! She had forgotten how well endowed Spike was. After the aborted fake engagement spell, Buffy had religiously avoided thinking about Spike in any other way than a peroxide nuisance.

Buffy smacked herself in the head.

"Stop thinking about Spike's dick!" she muttered to herself and rolled onto her side. "How old are you?" This last question gave her pause, as she realised that she would never age or change again. Buffy had mixed feelings about this. On one hand she was never going to die, unless she was dusted.

Buffy shivered with delight as she allowed Spike’s feelings to flood her mind again. The turned Slayer was surprised at the lack disgust she felt at the images of Spike’s days in the killing fields. As a Slayer she should have been revolted but for some reason she wasn’t and it puzzled her.

What surprised her was the feelings of jealously she had at the images of Spike and Dru making love and their affection for each other. A low growl emanated from her throat for the love Spike had for his fickle dark wicked plum. Sadness also filled her when Buffy recalled Spike’s deeply suppressed and unacknowledged devastation that his beloved Sire loved Angelus and was only fond of her faithful and constant companion of over a hundred years.

Buffy had also sensed Spike’s recent acceptance that Dru had used him as a substitute for her beloved ‘daddy’. The small vampire wondered if her Sire even realised that Dru had, despite her madness, realised that she needed Spike to protect and nurture her. She wasn’t equipped to look after herself and that was why she had clung to the peroxide vampire for so many decades…

She wondered if Spike was even aware of the hurt deep inside him…probably… but instead her mercurial Sire had continued to love Dru and fight for her attention with every ounce of his being.

Buffy pushed aside the maudlin memories, and latched onto the ones she had felt about herself. The awe that he had a Childe and his pride in her and the love, which stunned her…

What was even more amazing was the strength and comfort, which infused her being from the taste of Spike’s blood. She wanted more and Spike had allowed her to take as much as Buffy had wanted. She was stunned at his generosity.

Even she knew that it was a rarity that it was offered so freely and to let her drink her fill was something unheard of. Sire's usually used their blood as a way to control their fledglings, but Spike as usual was a rebel. He was different. Buffy's train of thought paused; he was different for many reasons, but his words haunted her. He had never made a Childe. Why had he agreed to be her Sire?

"Note to self: remember to ask him in the am," Buffy whispered to herself.

Buffy’s sobs increased and her entire body shook with the force of them.

And then they stilled when Buffy finally realised that there was one person she had forgotten.

Riley… Her boyfriend and lover…who had not tried to find her.

All the time she had been with Dracula Buffy had prayed that Riley would appear and rescue her from the depravity and pain that she had endured within the walls of Dracula’s mansion. The blonde woman had lain unresisting under Drac’s body as he surged into her, praying that Riley would appear stake in hand and save her.

But he had never come.

Spike had…her mortal enemy and reluctant ally had been the one to notice she was missing and came to save her.

Why hadn’t Riley come?

Why had Spike come in his place?

Did Riley even care for her anymore? Had he even noticed she had missed their date the night Xander had kidnapped her?

Buffy curled up into a small ball and whimpered quietly, she knew that Riley had a very black and white view of the world. Vamps were evil and disgusting things only good for dusting, and humans were good and worth fighting for.

His Initiative training had instilled these beliefs in the ex-soldier, along with his strong religious convictions. Buffy cringed at the imagined disgust on the tall man’s face when he discovered she was now a demon, he would never want to touch her…hold her or love her now. He would probably try to dust her, to put her out of his misery…

How was she ever going to face him? Did she even want to face him? What would she say? Buffy’s heart ached as she imagined the look of sadness on Riley’s face and then the disgust and rejection that would undoubtedly follow.

Buffy flopped onto her back and stared blankly at the ceiling. She was confused and scared. She had feelings for Riley but now after tasting Spike’s blood she was in a muddle. Everything was different now. She could feel it…something had shifted inside her and Buffy knew that her destiny wasn’t with Riley. The thought saddened her. Her chance at normal had disappeared with an unexpected betrayal and the sting of Dracula’s fangs in her throat.

Buffy’s breath hitched in her chest and she began to cry again.

Spike snorted and rolled onto his back. He gradually began to wake; something was tugging at his heart. He could feel through their link that Buffy was upset. Spike opened his eyes and glared at the ceiling. He wanted to go to his Childe but was unsure as to whether or not she would stake him. His sharp ears picked up a quiet sniffle, which broke his heart. Spike groaned and rolled to his feet. Even when he had been with Dru, he had never been able to resist her tears. It appeared that poofy instinct had transferred to Buffy now as well.

"Bollocks, sodding hell and, for shits and giggles, bloody hell!" Spike muttered under his breath as he stomped up the stairs. He got halfway up and paused. Spinning on his heel, he stomped back down.

"Bloody whipped, aren't I?"

Spike sank down into a chair at the dining table and rested his head in his hands. He spotted his duster slung over the chair next to him. Spike patted his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and puffed on it. Inhaling deeply, he relished the rush of nicotine. He puffed on it for about two more seconds before he heard another pathetic sniffle from upstairs. Stubbing it out in one of the many ashtrays that littered the cabin, Spike sighed.

He stalked upstairs and paused at the door. His pale hand hovered over the door handle again. Spike hesitated. It was only when he heard a really loud sniff followed by a hiccup that his hand descended and he tried to open the door. 'Soddin bint locked it! What did she think I was gonna do, leap on her skinny body and shag her into next Tuesday? Well… I might have done!' Spike sighed and then with a sharp twist of his wrist, broke the lock and pushed the door open.

He was greeted with the sight of Buffy curled up into a little ball on the bed. Her back was to him and shaking with sorrow as she cried.

"Oh Pet. Come on, none of that!"

Spike's long strides brought him to the bed. He crawled onto it and curled around the huddled form of his weeping Childe. He wrapped his arm around her and slid the other under her neck, curling it round so that his hand rested over hers.

Buffy sniffed and to Spike's surprise turned in his arms and nestled against his chest. "My Mom is going to be so upset with me!" she whimpered.

"Course she won't, Luv. She'll be pleased to have you home safe," Spike crooned as he cradled her gently against him.

Buffy shook her head, "No she won't. I'm dead," she wailed.

"Well un-dead, and not likely to snuff it anymore, are you?" Spike cautiously pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"What do you mean, all it takes is a stake and poof! No more Buffy."

"Hardly luv, Drac's a tough bastard to stake, tried it in Venice once and he reappeared in a puff of black smoke, bet you can do the same trick." Spike paused. "I wonder if you can turn into a bat, too?"

Buffy tipped her head up and stared at Spike as if he had just said he was a ballerina and asked if she'd like to see him in a pink Tutu.

"Mornin’, Pet." He reluctantly released his hold on her and flopped over onto his back. To his surprise Buffy followed his movements and flopped on top of him. She wrapped a leg around his hip and slung her arm over his chest. He opened one eye and stared down at her in surprise.

"You okay, Slayer?"

"Yep, hungry now." Buffy blinked hopefully up at Spike. She smiled hopefully, revealing her sharp little fangs.

"So go get some blood. I stocked up; it's in the fridge." Spike teased, aware that she was hoping for his blood.

Buffy pouted, well as best she could around her fangs.

Spike rolled his eyes. "All right, but don't make a habit of this!" He warned. 'As if you'd ever say no to her.'

Buffy shuffled up and sank her teeth into the same spot she had drunk from earlier. She braced herself for the images that would follow, but this time there were none. Only feelings, feelings that she never considered a soulless vampire would have.

Tenderness, caring, lust and more importantly love. She paused in her drinking; lifting her head up Buffy stared at Spike in shock.

"Wot?" He asked defensively.

"You love me?" Buffy squeaked.

"Bugger...should've know m'blood would give me away...now don't get your knickers in a knot." Spike tried to ease away and failed, there was a Slayer shaped limpet clamped to his torso. "Lemme up, Sweets," he coaxed gently.

"Spike! You love me! That's why you saved me and Sired me!" Buffy tightened her grip on the now frantically wriggling vampire. She pulled herself over and straddled his waist. "Nu uh, you're not going anywhere."

Spike tried not to groan, moan or whimper pathetically at the sight of his golden goddess straddling him with blood stained lips. It was the stuff of his wildest dreams. "Buffy, you're killing me here."

She tilted her head and examined Spike, wondering why he was so embarrassed. "Spike, I don't understand."

"What," he growled defensively. "That a soulless beast like me has feelings and shock horror, fancies himself in love with you?" He arched upwards trying to toss her off. "Let me go now!" He snarled and then whimpered as his motions brought his aching cock against the soft juncture of her thighs.

Buffy hesitated for a second; her eyes widened at the frisson of excitement Spike's movements sent through her body. "Spike?" Her hazel eyes were filled with confusion and a large amount of desire.

"Slayer...Love...Pet, please either get off me or get me off," Spike moaned desperately.

"Crude much?" Buffy teased. His guttural words had shaken her too the core. She knew she was playing with fire, but now she didn't mind getting burnt. "Spike, open your eyes,” she softly ordered.

Without hesitation the pinned vampire opened is eyes and stared up at her. A mixture of devotion and fear in his pale blue eyes.

"Faith once taught me something I was too scared to try...well, until now." Buffy smiled down at the confused Master Vampire.

He cocked his head. "What was that then, sweetness?"

"It’s Want…Take…Have…"

As she whispered the final word, Buffy leant forward and caught Spike's lips in a sweet gentle kiss, one that blew his mind and made his toes curl…

Chapter Eight

Joyce woke suddenly.

She could feel someone watching her.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she sat up.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, Mrs Summers.”

Joyce slid backwards until her shoulders hit the headboard. “Who…who the hell are you?”

“A friend…well, a messenger from the Powers.” Whistler shifted uneasily as he watched the Slayer’s mother glare at him. “See where your daughter got it from…the glare that is!”

“Buffy? Where is she? Have you seen her?” Joyce leapt from the bed and rushed over to the short demon.

“She’s fine…safe.” Whistler patted Joyce awkwardly on her shoulder.

“She is!” Joyce’s eyes filled with tears of relief. “Oh…thank god…”

Wiping the tears from her face she wrapped her arms around Whistler who struggled slightly. Joyce pulled back. “Sorry about that, it’s just I was so worried.”

Whistler straightened his jacket. “No problem…uh…”

“Where is she? Can I see her?” Joyce asked hopefully.

Whistler stared at Joyce, and sighed. “She’s safe, with Spike…”

“Spike? I thought so…when he was here earlier asking about helping…I knew he’d help out whoever was in trouble. I just didn’t realise it was my little girl!” Joyce managed to suppress the innate motherly instinct to go to her lost child.

She knew that for now Buffy would have to find her own path. Joyce rubbed her hand over her eyes and hoped that Spike would protect Buffy and keep her safe until she was home. Part of her knew that Spike would protect her daughter with his life. Their conversations over hot chocolate had revealed to the older Summers woman a caring side that the usually defensive vampire rarely let show.

She could only hope Spike would be there for Buffy.

“He’s been a surprise to us all, including himself…” Whistler grinned. “She’s safe, I promise.”

“Thank you. I forgot her, how could I forget my baby girl?” Joyce’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m a bad…”

“No, don’t say it! It was magic, nothing you could control…” Whistler tried to reassure her. “What happened is done and now you have to be there for her.”

Joyce nodded. “Can I see her?”

Whistler began to edge out of the door. “Uh…not yet, she needs time. The Slayer’ll be back soon…be ready for her.” With that he vanished.

“Time?” Joyce shouted. “What for?”

“Mom?” Dawn staggered sleepily out of her room; she had been awoken by Joyce’s screaming.

“What’s wrong? Is it Buffy?”

Joyce looked over at her youngest. “Buffy’s safe, a smelly little man just came to see me!” A large smile of relief spread across her face.

Dawn squealed and wrapped her arms around her mother. The noise from the two Summers women woke the rest of the house.

Joyce quickly explained what had occurred.

“He didn’t give his name?” Giles asked. His clothes were rumpled and his eyes were swollen with tiredness.

“No, all he said was that he was a messenger from the Powers. Who are the Powers?” Joyce wrapped her arms around Dawn and hugged her close. Gaining comfort from her younger daughter.

“Powers?” Willow frowned in confusion.

“They are essentially a group of higher beings that control the balance between good and evil.” Giles explained. “I believe Buffy met one of their representatives during the Acathla incident. She described Whistler as a short smelly demon with a New York accent.”

Joyce tilted her head. “That sounds like the not-so-fragrant man who was in my room. I wonder if it was the same person?”

“Probably…” Giles rubbed his hand through his hair. “I imagine he works with the Slayer line…I’ll need to research.”

Tara had stood quietly listening. “Um…what did he mean Spike was taking care of Buffy?”

Her softly spoken words stilled all the conversations.

“Spike?” Giles frowned. “He’s looking after Buffy? How and why?”

Joyce shook her head. “I don’t know, all he said was she was safe and needed some time. Then she would be back. We need to hold tight.”

Willow nodded. “So we have to wait for Buffy, but maybe we can try and get Xander in the interim?”

Anya nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I want him back! Soon…”

“Right then, we need to locate and capture him. Willow, I need you and Tara to work on a location spell.” Giles turned to the two Wiccans. “I know you’ve tried before, but maybe whatever was blinding us to Buffy’s presence was also preventing us from sensing Xander.”

Willow and Tara nodded.

“Okay, but how are we going to stop him from leaving us again?” Willow asked nervously.

“Chains! I’ll get some from the flat.” Anya chirped and then dashed out the front door.

“I guess we don’t want to know why they have chains…” Willow shuddered.

Joyce covered Dawn’s ears. “Wish she hadn’t shared!”

“Indeed…” Giles sighed.

“What can I do?” Dawn asked hopefully.

“Get ready for school,” Joyce ordered.

“Mom!” Dawn whined.

“Dawnnnn!” Joyce grinned and pushed the teen into her room. “Go get ready.”

“No, stop luv…” Spike caught hold of Buffy’s hands.

Buffy pulled away from kissing and nibbling Spike’s pale throat. She struggled against his gentle grip. She pouted down at Spike. “Why?”

Spike gritted his teeth, as he felt Buffy wriggle against his straining erection. “You’re not ready for this,” he told her though his body was screaming the opposite. To emphasis it’s point his hips jerked against her warm softness.

Buffy’s thighs tightened around his hips and she ground herself down, a soft moan escaping from her mouth.

“Buffy, luv we need to slow down…” Spike gritted his teeth, his hands gripping her wrists gently as he nudged her writhing body off his.

“Spike…why?” Buffy asked again. Her lower lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. “It’s okay, I understand…I’m gross…” She scrambled off the bed and ran from the room.

Spike sighed. “Balls…” He sat up and winced as his aching cock pressed against the cold metal teeth of his jeans. He glanced down, “’bout dam right, balls…or more like blue ones!” He gingerly stood up, adjusting himself and Spike sighed again. He could hear Buffy stomping around downstairs, muttering under her breath.

“Stupid Vampire! What’s wrong with him? I’m all…Spike!” Buffy span around at the sound of Spike’s quiet descent down the stairs; he was crouched at the foot of the staircase watching her pace.

Her vampiric hearing had kicked in with a vengeance, she frowned at the sight of the shirtless vamp crouched staring at her. “Leave me alone!” she yelled and ran into the kitchen. Buffy was embarrassed by his rejection and unsure of why she had jumped Spike. ‘Okay, I always thought he was cute…but he’s a vamp…so no way, no how!’ Buffy ran her hands through her hair as she continued to think. She had forgotten for a brief moment that she was a vampire as well now.

“Slayer?”

Spike hadn’t moved from his position. He was confused and aroused. He admitted to himself that he had always thought the Slayer was gorgeous, but he had been trying to kill her most of the time, not shag her. Now everything had changed, he felt something…something that could be classified as love…attraction…lust? But he wasn’t sure if it was the Sire/Childe bond, he didn’t think so but was nervous about taking the attraction further in case that was all it was.

He had never created a Childe and didn’t know if these feelings were normal. ‘Normal? Ha! What’s normal about any of this…?’ Spike shifted his weight and sank back on his heels. ‘S’not like I can call Peaches and ask him what he felt like when he sired Dru. First off, Angelus probably didn’t feel anything except Darla shaggin him into the ground, next to Dru in the Nunnery...’

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. It was all too much. When Joyce had said it was a good thing to help, he had agreed. But now he didn’t know how! “Buffy, luv…” he whispered. Spike’s voice cracked as he called to her.

Buffy stiffened at the sound of her name whispered with such confusion and longing. She kept her back to Spike and glared sightlessly at the fridge. Buffy knew if she turned around that she would want him again.

Buffy bit her lower lip and her eyes watered. One of her fangs had pierced her lower lip.

Spike froze at the intoxicating scent of his Childe’s blood. His cock hardened even more. ‘It’s gonna drop off at this rate!’ he grimaced down at the bulge in his jeans.

“Don’t keep hurting yourself, Slayer.” Spike whispered. He still remained crouched like a gargoyle at the base of the stairs. Spike winced at the sound of concern in his voice. He also smirked at the compliment Buffy had given him. ‘Sexy, am I?’ He opened his mouth to call her on this, but was interrupted.

Buffy whirled around at the sound of her Sire’s voice. She stared sphinx-like at the shirtless vampire watching her closely. ‘God, he’s gorgeous…much better than Riley.’ With her last thought Buffy flinched. “Oh god…Riley!” She shrieked.

Spike shut his eyes. ‘Well, that got rid of my boner…’ The delicious memory of her saying he was sexy was pushed aside by her mentioning the overgrown nit.

Buffy ran over to Spike and pulled him up. “I need a phone, now!” She shook the unresisting vampire hard in her panic, her sharp nails breaking his pale skin.

Spike glared down at the frantic Slayer. “Right, Spike won’t play so you want Captain Cardboard…” Hurt coloured his voice and he clenched his jaw, trying not to strangle Buffy…not that it would’ve made any difference.

“What? No! I just wanted to…I don’t know what I wanted…everything is too much.” Buffy’s eyes filled with tears and she began to sob.

Spike pulled himself free from her clutching hands and gently ran his finger over her wounded lower lip. Unable to resist the call of her blood he licked his finger.

Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head and the powerful taste of Buffy’s blood. He shivered at the sensations that flooded his system and growled. “I need to replace all the blood you’ve taken from me.” He growled coldly and pushed Buffy away before stalking into the kitchen.

“Spike…” Buffy whimpered. “I’m sorry…” She wrapped her arms around her small form and watched Spike moving mechanically around the kitchen. She knew bringing up Riley was a bad move and now Spike was angry with her.

The small woman was terrified and had wanted to grasp at something familiar, familiar like Riley. But she had no idea why… All Buffy knew was that she needed to make amends. Spike had come through for her, when no one else had.

Spike nodded abruptly and busied himself preparing blood for the both of them. “Don’t apologise, Slayer. I know you think I’m nothing…just something to be toyed with,” he sighed. His shoulders slumped, he was tired and confused, the night before last he had been alone in his crypt and now he had a Childe.

“Spike?” Buffy put her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.

Spike stared down at the floor, refusing to meet her eyes. He was channelling his inner William; he hated himself for it, but something about the small blonde in front of him was evoking these reactions. Bringing up long repressed memories of the git he had been. Her rejection of him and wanting her soldier boy had brought back memories of Cecily’s rejection. And he hated it!

“Look at me,” she pleaded with him as she cupped his chin and lifted his head up.

Spike shut his eyes, unwilling to expose himself for more ‘kick the Spike.’

Buffy stomped her foot in rising frustration. “Open your eyes…please,” she whispered.

It was the softly whispered please that reached Spike. He opened his eyes and stared at the tearful face of his Childe. Something inside him flinched at the sorrowful expression in her face. He stood still and looked at her. ‘Not gonna open myself up to any more of her games…’

‘Great, he’s doing that ‘I can see right through you into your soul’ stare! I wish I could do that...’ Buffy released his chin and wiped her face with the back of her hands.

Spike tried and failed not to smile at her childlike antics. ‘She really is cute…’

“I’m sorry, really sorry. I shouldn’t have shaken you like that or brought up, you know who.” Buffy jumped at the sound of the microwave pinging.

“Right.” Spike spun and pulled open the microwave door. He was stunned by her apology; the Slayer never apologised to the likes of him. The chipped vampire had no idea how to handle this.

“Spike?” Buffy was surprised, she had expected the cocky vampire to gloat or comment at her apology. She had not expected his shy reaction and complete silence.

“Here, drink this.” Spike handed her a mug of blood. He ducked his head and looked at her through his eyelashes. The vampire’s stormy blue eyes were filled with questions and hope.

“Thanks…”Buffy gingerly took the mug and glared at the contents. “This time you’re staying down,” she griped at the crimson fluid. ‘Just pretend it’s a cherry Slurpie…’

Spike blinked at the tiny blonde and sipped his blood, hiding his grin behind the mug. He sat down at the dining table and watched worriedly as Buffy drained the heated animal blood. He tensed waiting for her to puke it all up again.

“Bleeeech!” She stuck her tongue out and shook her head while scrunching her face up. Buffy shivered dramatically. “Ta…daa…” she flourished the empty mug under Spike’s nose before turning and putting it in the sink.

Spike tried to suppress a smile at his Childe’s antics but failed. He dipped his head and covered his mouth with his hand and grinned at the cuteness of his girl. Coughing he wiped the grin off his face and straightened.

“Rinse it out luv,” Spike commented idly. “Blood is a bugger to wash off ceramics once it gets all crusty.” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

Buffy retched at the image that floated into her mind. She clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh no! Spiiiikee!” she wailed through her fingers.

“Bollocks!” Spike leapt to his feet and raced over to the heaving form of his Childe.

Buffy looked up at him, her eyes were watering. She looked miserable. “I’m a crap vampire…” She muttered through her hands. “I can’t even drink blood without wanting to puke my guts up!”

Spike wrapped his arm around her shuddering form. “Hang on, luv. Spike’s got yah,” With that he vamped out and slashed his fangs across his free wrist. “Here, this’ll help…” He thrust his bleeding wrist in front of Buffy’s face.

Buffy wrapped her hands around his proffered wrist and pulled it to her mouth.

Spike groaned at the sensation of her soft lips on his skin. He hardened again as he felt Buffy suckling on his blood. “Oh pet…” He pulled her across his body and held her against him, in a classic vampiric hold.

Only this time he wasn’t taking blood but giving it.

Buffy ran her tongue over the closing wound trying to get as much of Spike’s rich blood as she could. A wealth of feelings flooded her. Buffy could sense his worry for her. She could also sense his confusion, frustration, his hatred and anger at Drac and most importantly she could sense his fierce protectiveness of her.

Sighing she reluctantly pulled away from Spike’s pale wrist. Buffy turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Thank you, I feel better.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike’s waist and pulled him closer, relishing the close contact as well as his obvious arousal. Blinking up at him coyly, she grinned impishly. “I guess you aren’t turned off by me being a vamp?” Buffy held her breath nervously, amazed that she had voiced her deepest fear so easily.

Spike inhaled sharply, her scent flooding his senses. Closing his eyes he swallowed hard; reaching up he wrapped his long fingers in her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Never said that,” he whispered against her cool flesh.

“But you pushed me away…” Buffy pouted.

Spike feathered soft kisses over her forehead and then buried his face in her fragrant hair. “No luv, was worried you were acting on the Sire/Childe bond…I’ve never sired a Childe, so this is all new territory for me, Slayer.”

“I sensed what you felt when I was drinking from you, Spike,” Buffy whispered into his neck. Her lips brushed over the mark she had left earlier. A shiver ran through both of them.

Spike pulled away slightly and gazed down in surprise. He had never sensed anything when he had drunk from Dru.

“What!” Spike tried to pull away, embarrassed. Buffy growled at his moving away and pulled him back closer. If he could Spike would have blushed all the way down to his toes.

Buffy ran her hands over the soft pale skin on his back, trying to reassure the embarrassed vampire in her arms. “I got all your feelings, all of them.” She repeated to ensure that Spike had heard her and wouldn’t weasel out of anything.

‘Bugger…think fast, mate!’ Spike shifted slightly and his grip tightened around her.

Buffy nudged her head under his chin, smiling against him. “Don’t even try to cover up, Spikey…” She sing-songed, feeling braver now that she was aware of her Sire’s feelings.

Spike slumped in her arms, defeated. “Bloody women, can’t keep anything from them!”

“Nope!” Buffy grinned wickedly and pinched his firm behind. Pulling out of his arms she grinned mischievously as she danced away from his reaching arms.

“Buffy…come ‘ere…” Spike chased after the whirling blonde dervish.

Buffy leapt over the back of the couch and flopped onto her back. “Ommph!”

Spike landed on top of her and pressed his lean body against her soft welcoming curves. “You are amazing, luv…” With that he kissed her, ravishing her mouth with his.

Buffy eagerly responded. Her hands ran over his back and shoulders as the kiss deepened. “It’s so weird. I feel safe with you…” she gasped against his demanding lips.

Spike pulled back and pressed fevered kisses over her face and neck. He growled softly when he felt her soft lips peppering his throat with kisses.

“I promise I’ll protect you with everything I am,” Spike swore as he kissed her closed eyes.

“You might need a hand with that,” a voice interrupted the two vampires.

“Ahh!” Buffy shrieked in fright and vanished in a puff of black smoke.

Spike fell face forward on the couch. Pushing himself up he smirked.

“Well that answers that question. Guess she did get Drac’s magic tricks!” He glared over at the two figures, which stood in the doorway. “Who are you and why shouldn’t I kill you?”

The shorter of the two unwanted guests stepped forward. “She gonna be making a reappearance any time soon?”

Spike shrugged nonchalantly; he rubbed his hands through his hair and tried not to glance up at the gallery where Buffy had re-appeared a second after her disappearance.

“You smell like a demon,” he stated shortly and vamped out.

“Easy there, big boy!” Whistler jumped back as Spike lunged to his feet.

“Spike, wait!” Buffy called as she straightened from behind the banisters. “I know him, and her…but I don’t understand. You’re supposed to be dead!”

“Well, we all are. Except for him,” Kendra pointed at Whistler. Her stern features lightened slightly as she flashed a brief smile at Buffy, who had hesitantly walked down the stairs and sat down beside Spike. She took his hand and squeezed it hard.

“Hullo Buffy, long time no see…” she waved at her fellow slayer.

“Ke…Kendra, what are you doing here? Or more to the point, how?” Buffy stared suspiciously at the unusually silent Whistler.

“Who’s the bint?” Spike asked curiously.

“I am dee Slayer Drucilla killed, you know the one that you thought it was a ‘good on her’ for murdering?” Kendra crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Spike. A tiny smile tickled the corner of her mouth at the sight of Spike’s jaw dropping and the sheepish expression on his face.

“Uh…sorry pet…” he glanced over at Buffy and then down at their linked hands. His scarred brow shot up at the sight of their fingers entwined. He squeezed her hand gently and smiled shyly at her.

“Nice trick with the poofing, luv,” he whispered with a proud look on his face.

“So we all know each other? Great. Can we get down to business.” Whistler interrupted. “Kendra asked to come here to help Buffy out with her transition and I’m here to fill you in on the sitch. That’s if you two have finished batting eyelashes at each other?”

“Button it, short round!” Spike glared at the irritating demon.

“Spike…let him talk,” Buffy interjected. She looked over at Kendra and tried to smile.

“I warned you de vampires are trouble…but this one seems to be alright.” Kendra sat down on the coffee table opposite Buffy and put a reassuring hand on her sister Slayer’s knee. “Even if he has funny coloured hair,” she added with a grin.

Spike snorted at her comment. A gleam in his eyes belying his aggravation, he reached over and tugged at a braid. “Like the Bo Derek look, Slayer.” He smirked at the expression of surprise on Kendra’s face.

She flicked her braids over her shoulder.

“You know if I wasn’t dead and you weren’t a friend of Buffy’s, you’d be drawing back a bloody nub instead of your hand.”

“Enough with the posturing, kiddies.” Whistler sank down into an armchair and sighed tiredly. “There’s a lot to go through here.”

“Why are you here and do I need to rip your ribcage out for anything?” Buffy glared at Whistler.

“As I said last time we met, white flag already. I’m here to help!” Whistler leant forward and stared at Buffy.

Buffy shifted uneasily and glanced over at Kendra and Spike. “Stop staring at me!”

“Sorry, but you kinda threw us for a loop…as usual.” Whistler glanced over at Kendra.

“She’s like that, always wrong footing the lot of us,” Spike reached over with his free hand and ran his index finger over Buffy’s cheek.

“Yeah, but so did you!” Whistler added. “The Powers didn’t expect you to step into the mix, but they’re glad you did!” He nodded in appreciation.

“Yeah…right, not like I could leave her there with the Tranny git!” Spike snorted.

“Very true,” Kendra nodded. “He deserves to die for what he has done.”

Buffy paled and huddled against Spike, she tried to suppress the images that flooded her mind and failed. Tears filled her eyes.

“I’m real sorry kid, it wasn’t supposed to go down the way it did.” Whistler sighed.

“What do you mean?” Buffy whispered as she dashed the tears from her face with her free hand.

Spike remained silent, his eyes turning gold as his demon was close to the surface. All he could hear over and over was it wasn’t meant to go down like this. ‘Sodding Powers…’ a growl erupted from his chest. Unable to keep quiet, “what do you mean?”

Kendra shifted uneasily. “Buffy was supposed to meet Dracula much later and defeat him. Xander’s actions were not expected,” she told them as she turned to Buffy. “You’ll have to face him eventually…”

Spike frowned. “You mean, this wasn’t supposed to happen?” He reached over and pulled Buffy onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

“No, the Powers didn’t see this coming and had to move heaven and earth to make sure Buffy kept her soul...and to make the transition easier on you both.” Whistler turned to Buffy. “I’m really sorry that you were turned, if I had known I would’ve tried to stop it.” Genuine concern coloured his features.

Buffy gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, I think…” She snuggled into Spike’s arms, drawing strength from him.

“How did you make the transition easier,” Spike asked suspiciously. “Don’t like the idea of anyone else meddling with my noggin…”

“Well, we sorta made sure you both would rely on each other more readily, nothing more I swear.” Whistler held his hands up. “The feelings were already there, they just kinda nudged it along a bit.”

“So you mean…we…us…” Buffy trailed off, uncertain as to what she was trying to say.

“There was a spark there already, even if neither of you were ready to admit it.” Kendra interjected, trying to save Buffy any more discomfort.

Spike smirked. “So, Slayer had a yen for the Big Bad?” he teased, trying to lighten the situation.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him, “So, the Big Bad had a yen for the Slayer,” she mocked with a grin.

Kendra and Whistler groaned at their antics.

“Look, save the smushy stuff till later, okay?” Whistler teased.

“Sorry! Continue on the expositiony stuff, please.” Buffy looked over at Whistler expectantly.

“As I said, you weren’t supposed to die, so the boys upstairs intervened,” Whistler replied.

“Just like that?” Spike eyed the two representatives of the Powers suspiciously. There had to be more to this than ‘oh we decided to intervene’.

Buffy kept quiet and watched the other three as they avoided looking at each other. Kendra’s attention was focused on her, the dead Slayer’s face was stern as usual, but there was also a hint of compassion in her eyes.

Spikes’ grip tightened around Buffy as Whistler sat in silence. He was either unwilling or unable to answer. The blond vampire was starting to get pissed off with the small demon; the muscles in his jaw began to tick as he ground his teeth.

“Stop skirting around it an spit it out, you git!” Spike snarled.

“Okay, so Buffy getting turned? Not on the cards. Powers decided to help as best they could, hence the soul! You getting her out? Not something we expected, there was a chance and presto you stepped up to the plate. Kudos to you, William the Bloody…”

Spike growled before Whistler could reveal his deepest gitty secret.

“Spike, stop with the growlies and let him talk.” Buffy wapped him on the chest and then turned back to Whistler. “Continue,” she regally waved a hand.

“Okay, so you’re a vamp with a soul, FYI it’s secure, so don’t worry about that.” Whistler added.

Buffy and Kendra both winced at the memory of Angelus’s last appearance. Kendra’s hand shot to her throat as she felt Dru’s talons slitting through her skin again.

“Powers need you as a Champion, there is stuff coming up and no one else can handle it. But I guess now there are two of you to handle it?” Whistler asked slyly.

Spike jerked in his seat. “I’ll protect her with my unlife…even if that means working for the good guys.” He looked down at Buffy, “she’s my Childe and I’ll protect her till I’m dust.”

Buffy pressed a small kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” She was stunned at the way Spike had agreed so easily to help her, but her mother hadn’t raised a fool, so not looking the gift horse in the mouth here!

“What’s coming?” Spike asked after he recovered from the surprise at Buffy’s little kiss and the wealth of gratitude and relief in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

“Best we can tell, there is a major badass coming to Sunnydale, looking for something to help it get home.” Whistler pulled off his hat and fiddled with the rim. “The Powers can’t sense anything else, it’s as if it’s shielded somehow. They get bursts of info and then nothing…really weird. But before you start squawking, anything turns up I will come straight to you, okay?”

“Really? Cos usually you and the, what did you call em? Powers? Never heard of them!” Buffy shrugged and continued, “you guys usually leave me fighting blind and alone.”

“You can thank her for the change in attitude,” Whistler pointed at Kendra.

“Huh?” Buffy glanced over at the silent Slayer.

“I’ve been talking to dem, making dem see they need to help more,” Kendra shrugged.

Whistler laughed. “Yeah right, more like yelled at them continuously for the last few years, till they gave in! She has been amazing!”

Buffy leant over and grabbed Kendra’s hand. “Thank you…”

“After I saw how you worked with others, I realised a Slayer didn’t need to be alone. When I died, I figured that the Powers should be more friendly.”

“And she kept at em till they gave in!” Whistler shook his head at the memories of Kendra facing off with his bosses.

“Good on you, pet.” Spike nodded his thanks. “Let’s hope they keep helpin’ out.”

“Dey will, I promise.” Kendra nodded firmly.

“So there’s a bad ass coming to town, but what about Dracula? I want to kill him for what he’s done to me.” Buffy vamped out to illustrate her point.

Kendra eyed the fangs and lavender eyes. “Pretty…though I never thought a vampire could be…”

“Isn’t she, just?” Spike interjected proudly.

“Okay, mutual adoration society, focus. Drac is difficult to kill, you need to stake him when he’s at his most vunerable, which from what we can tell is when he disappears into the ether. Something you can do as well now, Buffy. Once he’s staked, his dust will reappear and then you need to bury it on consecrated ground at all four points of the compass.” Whistler leant back in the armchair.

“That’s it? How do we get round the thrall?” Spike asked dryly.

“Dat’s where I come in.” Kendra reached for Spike and Buffy’s hands. “Before I go, I want you to know I’ll watch over you Buffy, and you too Spike, to make sure you do right by her.”

“What are you gonna do, Kendra?” Buffy slipped her fingers through her fellow Slayer’s.

“I got dem to give me a leetle bit of sumthin to make you immune to all magicks and glamours, it’ll help you fight that vampire on a fair playing field.” With that Kendra began to glow, the white light channelled through her hands and illuminated Buffy and Spike. As the power transferred, Kendra vanished.

A white light glowed in both Buffy and Spike’s eyes and they fell back on the sofa, both gasping for breath.

“Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?” Whistler watched them as they tried to regain control of their muscles.

“Ouch!” Buffy rubbed her stomach and huddled against Spike.

“Bloody bint, what did she do?” Spike groaned.

“Made you immune to magical influence, thralls and any other mystical mumbo jumbo anyone or thing tries to throw at you. Pretty cool, huh?” Whistler rubbed his stomach as he remembered when the Powers had infused him with the same talisman.

“Oookay…” Buffy whimpered.

Whistler stood. “Well, I better be going. Slayer, your Ma and your friends know you are okay. I popped over and told her not to worry and that you’d be back in a few days. Figured you needed some time to adjust and, whatever else you have in mind…” Whistler smirked at the two figures on the sofa. “So don’t do anything I wouldn’t, I’ll be around if you need me.” Whistler stood and adjusted his hat.

“Oh, and Buffy? Try and remember that you have already received your gift, so don’t do anything suicidal…” With that cryptic remark, he saluted and disappeared.

“It’s okay, Riley. You need to be in class; we’ll manage here.” Willow hung up the phone with a guilty expression on her face. She turned to face the others, who sat in various places around the Magic Box.

‘How could I ever think that Riley and I were the ones to protect Sunnydale? How could I forget Buffy…after everything she has done for me? Saving me from Darla’s minions all those years ago. Saving me from Moloch. Being there when Oz left…’ Memories of Buffy and her hanging out, becoming friends when no-one else at school had even spared her a glance, except to pick on her. It had all changed when Buffy had asked for her help to study. After that they became friends and then Willow entered into Buffy’s world of demons, vampires and magic. Magic that had given her confidence and allowed her to find her path. ‘All because of Buffy and her friendship.’

Willow’s eyes filled with tears; she bit her lower lip attempting to contain the sobs that tried to escape her mouth. ‘I have to be strong for Buffy…I need to get her back and help her. Then when she’s strong, we’ll destroy Dracula. I swear by Hecate, he and anyone else who hurt Buffy will pay.’

“Sweetie, you know we can’t risk taking him in there with us.” Tara came over and wrapped her arms around her distraught and upset girlfriend, her reassuring words pulling Willow away from her self-recriminations and back to the present.

Willow nodded and wrapped her arms around Tara, drawing strength and peace from her gentle lover. The guilt subsided for a brief moment. “We don’t know what’d happen if one of the Brides got their fangs into him.” Tara shuddered at the thought.

“Indeed, however we are limited in our resources. Buffy is, well…”

Giles nodded. “Right, sorry…but we are down our strongest fighters and going up against that infernal vampire is going to be a hard task.”

“But we have Willow and Tara, surely that will be a help?” Anya stepped over and wrapped her thin fingers around Giles’ arm, anxiety colouring her face.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Tara promised. Willow nodded furiously in agreement.

“What do we do?” Joyce asked.

“Well I suggest we find Dracula’s lair and watch and wait.” Giles reached over and grabbed the ropes and axe he had left on the table.

“Should we get a net?” Anya eyed the weapons on the table.

“A net?” Joyce frowned at Anya, completely perplexed.

“You know to catch him? Like the cartoons?” Anya explained. Completely unaware that the others were staring at her as if she were insane. She was used to the looks and ignored them as usual.

“Right, well. After that worrying insight into Anya’s mind I think we should get going.” Giles gave Anya a worried look and began to herd the others out of the shop.

Willow paused and watched as the others left. She was riddled with guilt and worry over Buffy. ‘I’m a bad friend...I never realised that anything was wrong. All the while we carried on as normal and Buffy was suffering. I need to fix this…’

“Can you see anything?” Anya hissed. She crawled over to Tara. Peering over her shoulder, the ex-demonness squinted at the map and the dowsing crystal.

Tara sighed. “No! Let me concentrate, please Anya.” The usually patient Wiccan was beginning to lose her temper.

“Let me, I have the closest relationship with Xander. Our parts interlock often.” Anya snatched the crystal from Tara and began to swing it over the map.

“Anya, I don’t think that you can do this, it’s not like you’re magically…” Willow trailed off at the sight of the crystal dropping to the map, as if magnetised. “Oh…well, that’s good…” Willow glanced over at Tara in surprise.

Anya rolled her eyes and folded her arms crossly over her chest. “Honestly, I sometimes think you all forget I was a powerful demon for over a 1000 years! Of course I can do magicks, I just chose not to rely on them for everyday things,” she added pointedly.

“Yes, quite…well done, Anya.” Giles leant over and checked the map. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s the Dog Pound?”

Joyce nodded. “Yes. Dawn makes me go there once a week. She wants a puppy.”

“Which you’d then end up walking.” Giles winked at Joyce in a moment of adult solidarity. Joyce nodded back with a warm smile.

“Come on, stop flirting. We need to go get Xander,” Anya whined.

“What…no…” Giles pulled off his glasses and began to polish them. Joyce looked away, a faint blush colouring her cheeks.

“Well, that’s a big castle!” Willow’s eyes were wide with shock. “How come no one has noticed it before?” She was positive that neither Riley nor herself had seen it when they had patrolled.

“Magic, I can smell it in the air.” Tara entwined her fingers through her lovers.

“So, do we storm it?” Anya swung her axe and bounced up and down excitedly.

“No, we wait for Xander,” Joyce explained patiently. “Where’s Giles?”

“Here.” Giles reappeared with Xander slung over his shoulder.

All four women stood and stared in surprise.

“How did you?…” Joyce’s jaw dropped in surprise.

“What happened?” Anya yelped. “Have you hurt him?”

“Oh! My Xander…” Willow reached out and ran her hand down Xander’s arm, reassuring herself that he was real. She was relieved that they had managed to get Xander back, but the relief was coloured with worry. ‘We sooo need to get Buffy back and help her get over what happened in Drac’s mansion.’

Willow shuddered at the horrible images that her over active imagination where drawing. She felt terrible. Willow knew that it hadn’t been her fault forgetting Buffy but as a result of that, god knows what had happened to her in that place. Willow’s eyes darkened slightly as she felt the tug of revenge pulling at her.

Tara glanced over at Willow and frowned slightly, she could feel dark magicks emanating from her sweet Willow, and it felt wrong…

Willow ignored the others and turned to stare up at the building, which housed Drac and silently swore revenge for all wrongs inflicted on her two best friends.

“Where did you find him?” Tara gave Giles a lop-sided grin. Trying to distract Willow from whatever was causing her to bristle with dark energy.

Tara’s voice pulled Willow’s attention away from the building and back to Xander. She ran her fingers through his mussed hair, the sensation of his soft hair soothed her.

Anya glared over at Willow and watched her hands move through Xander’s hair. “That’s my boyfriend you’re fondling intimately…Stop it please.”

Willow jerked her hand away and blinked in surprise at the fuming ex-demon, who stood with her arms folded and her foot tapping angrily. “Uh…sorry?”

“I am the only one allowed to fondle Xander,” Anya flipped her hair over her shoulder and patted Xander awkwardly on the head. “See!”

Willow nodded and turned to Giles. “So how did you find him so easily?” she echoed Tara’s ignored question.

“Well, while you were all nattering, I saw Xander come out of the side entrance, and I just hit him on the head with this.” Giles held up the axe in his free hand.

“You hit him with an axe!” Anya ran her hands over Xander’s head, checking for injuries.

“No Anya, I hit him with the blunt end. I think we should leave now before someone notices us.” Giles walked off, panting slightly at the added weight of Xander over his shoulder.

“So you managed to get rid of him?”

Dracula turned to the Bride next to him. He smiled and nodded.

“Indeed! He was beginning to bore me.”

“Now what?” the vampiress asked as she wrapped her arms around her Sire.

“We wait. I am curious to see what happens next.” Dracula pulled away from her arms. “Are our guests comfortable?” He tried to ignore the sensations that were pulsing from the red headed girl, he shivered and turned to look down at his precious Bride.

The tall beautiful vampiress wrinkled her nose and nodded. “They are comfortable. I don’t understand why you want them here?”

Dracula walked over to the edge of the Minstrels gallery and watched the group of scabby brown robed demons chanting.

“Because I have a feeling the next few weeks will be quite glorious…” He threw back his head and laughed.