Chapter One

“Buffy, do you know where my green sweater is?”  Dawn’s voice echoed down the hall of the large Victorian that Giles had bought with Council money.  It was a more or less permanent home for both himself and the younger people he had come to think of as his children.

Buffy and Dawn had moved in with him at his urging, ostensibly so that Dawn could attend a “good” school in London, but also so that he could watch Buffy and track her mental health.  In his stiff, British way, he had apologized to her for his treatment of Spike – and by extension, his treatment of her for supporting the vampire.  He willingly admitted that he had misjudged both the man and the situation and, without actually going down on his knees, he had begged for her forgiveness.

Her easy acceptance of his apology bothered him more than he cared to admit.  The Buffy he knew, while generous and forgiving with the people she loved, was also volatile and capable of great anger.  He was confident that until she had expressed that anger fully, she would not be able to truly forgive him.  The fact that he couldn’t see that righteous anger anywhere in her demeanor worried him enough that he confided in Dawn.

The teenager had grown up so much in past year or more that he found nothing strange about talking to her as another adult.  He wasn’t surprised when she agreed completely that Buffy’s apathy was a negative sign, not a positive one.

“She doesn’t even cry anymore, Giles.  It’s like she’s just waiting for something to happen and nothing that goes on while she waits is important enough to get excited about.  She won’t talk about him, but she won’t try to meet anybody else.  If you say “Angel” to her, she just looks blank and shrugs like she’s not sure who that is.  The only time I saw her show any emotion was when we went past a soc- sorry, football, stadium and she saw the sign for Manchester United.  For some reason, she started laughing and then crying, but she wouldn’t tell me why.  She just muttered something about ‘happy meals on legs’ and ‘stupid vampire’.”

“Perhaps when Willow arrives in a few weeks, she will be able to reach her.  I’m quite concerned about her mental health, I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, you know Willow,” Dawn snarked.  “She’ll just want to do a spell to ‘fix it’.”

The new head of the Council of Watchers shook his head and smiled. 

“Now, Dawn, you know that all the time Willow has spent with the coven has cured her of wanting to use magic to solve everything.  That was really quite unfair.”

“Uh huh,” was the only response as the teenager left the room. “Whatever you say, Giles.”



Willow’s arrival was a very low-key affair.  The witch arrived with a minimum of baggage and fan fair.  The fact that Kennedy was not with her didn’t upset the residents of the house as the brash slayer was not terribly popular with anyone except Willow.

Buffy’s greeting was warm, but restrained.  As she did with everyone, she expressed a polite interest in Willow’s well-being, but soon distanced herself from the conversation.  The redhead frowned briefly when her best friend didn’t even ask about Kennedy, but attributed it to her not wanting to embarrass Willow in public.  When she still didn’t ask while Willow was unpacking, the witch finally asked, “So, aren’t you curious about why I’m by myself?”

Buffy gave a guilty start, shocked out of her self-absorbed misery for a few seconds by the pain in Willow’s voice. 

“Oh, god, Wills, I’m so sorry.  Of course I am.  Where’s Kennedy? Has something happened to her?”

Willow looked at her friend with sad eyes and answered slowly, “No, nothing happened to her.  We just decided...well, I decided, that we needed a little break.  Some time to think about...things.”

“Things?”

Willow sighed and sat on the bed.  Buffy got up on the other side and they sat cross legged, facing each other just as they had so many times when they were in high school.

“I know it’s wrong to compare her to...to Tara.  I know that. She’s not Tara, she’s Kennedy and that’s not a bad thing to be.  But...”

“But?”

“But I keep finding myself thinking, ‘Tara wouldn’t do that,’ or ‘Tara would never have said that,’ and I realized that those things that Tara wouldn’t do or say...they were things I valued about her.  They were reasons why I loved her so much.  And...even though I am attracted to Kennedy, and very grateful to her for showing me that I could live and love again,  she’s not who I want to spend my life with.”

The redhead fiddled with the bedspread as she talked.  “I just want to find someone to love again.  Someone who makes me complete the way Tara did. And I’m willing to wait until that person comes along.  Do you know what I mean, Buffy?”

“I know exactly what you mean, Willow.  Believe me, I’m the queen of waiting for someone else who completes me.”

The two friends were silent for a few minutes, each lost in her thoughts.   Finally Willow took Buffy’s hand in hers and asked, “So, you’re still with the missage, huh?”

Buffy nodded her head and allowed a tear to trickle down her cheek. “Every minute of every day.  The only time I don’t miss him is when I’m asleep and I’m dreaming that he’s here with me.  Then I wake up and...”

Willow nodded, but couldn’t help saying, “You know he wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn this long, don’t you?  All Spike every wanted was for you to let him love you and be happy.  As much as he was glad to get you back, he would have given you up in a minute if he’d been sure you were ready to go back to Heaven.”

“I know that, Will.  And, I want to be happy again.  I do.  I’m just not sure I remember how to do it.  From the time I sent Angel to hell, my life has been pretty much one big suck fest after another.  I’d love to go back to perky, cheerful Buffy.  I just don’t know where she is, you know?”

Willow reached out to hug her friend, a thoughtful look on her face.

Several conversations with Giles and Dawn, as well as more time spent with Buffy, and the red haired witch was determined to do something about her friend’s unhappiness.

(If she wants to go back to being happy, Buffy, I just need to find a spell that will bring back that feeling. To make her feel the way she did before being a Slayer interfered with her life so much.  A way to make her feel like sixteen-year-old Buffy. How hard can it be?)

More conversations with Giles and Dawn and Willow was more than convinced that a spell was the way to go.  She would find one that allowed Buffy to keep all her adult memories, but push the years of pain into the back of her mind and let the innate perkiness she’d had as a sixteen-year-old resurface.

Knowing they would not approve of what she was planning, she didn’t talk to either the watcher or Buffy’s sister about her idea.  She found time alone in which to research exactly what kind of spell was needed and to collect the materials she would need, and then she waited for an opportune time.

The night Giles went out to a late meeting, and Dawn was spending the night with one of her new friends, Willow decided that the time was ripe.  She remembered how Buffy said the only time she was not unhappy was when she was asleep and dreaming about Spike.   That seemed to Willow to be a good time to do a happiness spell – when the recipient was already in a happy place.

Checking briefly to be sure Buffy was still asleep and not having a nightmare, Willow quickly set up her spell and began to cast.  The candles flickered as she muttered her incantations in Latin and English.  When she was almost finished, she waved her hand through the herbal smoke and whispered.

“Let this spell bring forth the happy person inside this one; and let her find her true happiness. So might it be.” 

With that final sentence, the candles blew out and Willow got up to put her things away, pleased with herself.  She decided to wait until morning to see how it turned out, figuring a Buffy interrupted in the middle of dreaming about Spike was not going to be a happy Buffy, spell or no spell.

She got into bed and drifted off the sleep herself, secure in the knowledge that she had improved Buffy’s life for her.

Chapter Two - I Know You

Buffy jerked slightly and blinked at her surroundings.  One minute she was dreaming that she was in Spike’s arms, sleeping peacefully in his crypt, and the next she appeared to be in the old long-gone Bronze.  And she appeared to be dancing, with Willow and Xander.  A very young Willow and Xander.

As the dance went on and she began to enjoy the way her body was moving with the music, she realized that the whole thing seemed very familiar.  She looked at the band, back at her friends, and down at herself and what she was wearing.

(Ohmygod, I’m dreaming about that night in the Bronze.  The first time I saw Spike.  The first time he threatened to kill me.)

Buffy looked around and marveled at how detailed her dream was. She could feel the wooden floor under her feet, smell the mixed brew of perfume, beer, and sweat that permeated the air.  She could even see the beginning of a zit on Xander’s face if she looked closely.

(Wow, this is a freakishly real dream.  I’m dreaming about zits. On Xander.)

Suddenly she felt the tingle on the back of her neck that meant there was a vampire nearby and she remembered Spike’s telling her one time that he had loved her from the first time he saw her dancing in the Bronze.  She turned slowly, scanning the room for the blond vampire her neck was now telling her was watching her.

In real life, she hadn’t known he was in the club at all. She’d just responded to what she heard about someone being attacked outside and ran out.  However, telling herself it was her dream to do with as she liked, she looked around the room until she spotted him prowling like a blond panther on the edges of the crowd, never taking his eyes off her as he stalked through the other patrons.

Buffy stared back at him until he raised his eyes to her face (And what the hell was he looking at all that time?) and blinked in surprise to find her looking at him.  Their eyes locked and Buffy’s stomach clenched as the familiar cerulean orbs bored into her.  She suppressed a whimper of longing, reminding herself that in this time and place, they were not lovers but enemies.

(He’s here to kill me.  There will be no flirting with the Slayer of Slayers.  Never mind what I know about what he’s got hiding under that long coat.  He’s unchipped, unsouled and very evil.)

In spite of the pep talk she gave herself, Buffy couldn’t resist giving him a dazzling smile before she turned back to her friends and waited for the phone call that would tell her she was needed in the alley.

Spike froze in mid-stride when the Slayer focused her beautiful green eyes on him.  It made him shiver, the way she was looking at him. As though she knew who and what he was.  As though she...He shook himself abruptly. 
(I must be losing it.  Thinking about the Slayer like that.  Not that she isn’t a hot little number.  Movin’ her body an’ all, driving these little boys crazy.  But I’m here to kill her, not shag her. I have my dark princess for that.)

He quickly went back outside and gave his minions their instructions while he faded back into the shadows to watch the Slayer.  She didn’t disappoint him.  She was out the door in no time and threw the minion off the girl he was trying to eat.  Spike watched in admiration as she toyed with one of his better fighters, uttering bad puns and clever quips as she kicked his ass all over the alley.  It was almost pathetic how easily she handled the vampire.  Especially after he got in one lucky punch that rocked her back for a minute.

It was the last punch he got.  With an incredible fluidity, she dazzled the vamp with punches and kicks until one of her friends tossed her a stake and she put it through his heart with one well-placed stab.  She was wiping the dust off her hands when Spike stepped slowly out of the shadows, clapping slowly.

She looked up at him with no surprise on her face and waited for him to stop clapping.

“Who are you?” she asked, looking as though she wasn’t really interested.

“You’ll find out Saturday,” he said in what he hoped was an intimidating manner.  There was something about the way this girl was looking at him.  As though she could see right through him and wasn’t worried at all.

“And what happens Saturday?” she asked in a bored tone that implied she already knew the answer.

“I get to kill you,” he growled.

To his complete amazement, she gave him another one of those dazzling grins and said, “You get to try.  If you can wait that long.”

“Oh, I can wait, little girl.  What makes you think I can’t?”

“Because I know you, Spike,” she said, her expression softening for a minute.  “I know you,” she repeated so low only he could hear it.

He could do nothing as she and her friends returned to the club but stand in the alley with “Huh?” written all over his face.

Inside, Buffy pleaded thirst from vampire dust and sat down to drink her coke and think about this incredibly real dream.  She’d treated it just like any other dream at first – walking through the motions of fighting with the vamp. She did notice that the fight was much more one-sided than she remembered the first time as being.  Due, no doubt, to her sixteen year old body being run by the much more experienced mind of the longest lived Slayer in history.

After fighting with Spike himself multiple times, Angelus several times, a hellgod, and a Turok-han, one overly cocky minion hadn’t even challenged her.  The one punch to her jaw did hurt though, and she responded with righteous anger that ended the fight very quickly.  She absently stroked the slight bruise on her jaw and wondered how a dream punch could continue to be sore after the dream had moved on to somewhere else.

Surprisingly, when the evening ended and they got up to go home, her dream continued in rather boring fashion.  She walked home, greeted her mother (hugging her hard enough to make her mother wince before she reminded herself that in this dream her mother wasn’t dead yet) and went upstairs to get ready for bed.

(All right.  I think I could find more interesting things to dream about than brushing my teeth.  What happened to my nice dream about snuggling in bed with Spike?  Why am I dreaming about him when he wanted to kill me? Oh well, I’ll wonder about it tomorrow.  Maybe I can dream I’m asleep, dreaming about Spike...)

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

(Okay.  This is officially getting weird now.) she thought to herself when she awoke the next morning in her old bed with the sun coming in the window.  (I’m dreaming I have morning breath and I have to pee. I have got to be the most boring dreamer on the face of the earth.  Where’s a good Slayer/prophecy dream when you need one?)


By the time she had dressed in a sixteen-year-old’s cotton underwear and a skirt much too short, she was beginning to get the sinking feeling that this was not a dream from which she was going to wake up anytime soon.  The thought that she was about to relive the last five stressful years of her life all over again was not a happy prospect, but with the resilience of youth she was able to push it aside.  She bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen, greeting her mother cheerfully and suppressing the little twinge she felt at knowing how different things were going to be in a few years.

Then she remembered that Spike was here.  She had five years to convince Spike that she loved him.  Five years to make up to him for all the pain she’d inflicted on him.  Five years to spend time in his arms, in his bed.  Five years to appreciate how precious those moments were going to be.

(Great.  All I have to do is convince William the Bloody that the only thing better than killing this Slayer will be--)

Much to her surprise, the school day went fairly quickly and she was able to do the work without leaning too heavily on Willow’s brain power.

(I guess I did learn a thing or two in spite of myself.) she thought with amusement as the answers to much of her homework popped into her head.   Willow looked at her curiously, but didn’t say anything as Buffy whipped through their history assignment.

As she knew was her habit, she went to the school library after classes were over, somewhat startled at the youthful appearance of her watcher.  From the perspective of a woman in her mid-twenties, he appeared to be a very attractive, somewhat older, man, rather than the stodgy old codger he had appeared to her sixteen year old eyes.  The comparison between the watcher she was now looking at and the weary, careworn head of the Council of Watchers that she’d left behind in what she was trying very hard to believe was the real world, was an eye opener and she realized that the years of fighting on the hellmouth had taken their toll on him just as much as they had on her.

“Ah, Buffy, there you are.  I understand you had an unusual experience last evening?”  The question indicated that Willow or Xander had already told him about the strange blond vampire and his cocky remarks about killing her on Saturday.

She chewed her lip briefly, wondering what she wanted to say to him.  Although she tried to tell herself it was only a dream, so it didn’t matter what she did or said, the nagging feeling that this was very real for everyone else would not go away.  She decided to hold her tongue until she figured out what was going on and just gave him the bare details of the encounter, leaving out that she already knew the vampire.

She did tell him Spike’s name, as she remembered that the vamp she staked had asked him for help just before she dusted him.  Giles frowned and went to consult his watcher’s records for a vampire named Spike.

“You’re sure he called him, ‘Spike’?” he asked, thumbing through his books.

“His name is Spike, Giles,” she responded wondering if he would pick up on her certainty.

“Try looking under William the Bloody,” came a deep voice from the stacks behind the librarian.

“Angel!”  Buffy felt her heart rate increase, then level off as she looked at the brooding vampire with eyes that had seen him at his best and worst.  If he wondered why she was looking at him so intently, he didn’t say anything.  If anything, he tried to avoid her eyes as he sought out the watcher and helped him find the correct book.

“Oh dear,” said her watcher as he read the short bio of Spike’s career as a vampire.  “It says here he has fought two Slayers before – and killed both of them.  He travels with his consort—“ he looked up quickly as Buffy coughed a muffled, “ho bag” into her hand, then went back to his book, “Drusilla. A seer before she was turned by...oh dear,” he glanced up again.  “By Angelus.”

Buffy watched Angle flinch at the mention of his unsoulled self and the insane vampire he had sired.

“You will have to be very careful, Buffy.  It would appear that this could be one of the most dangerous vampires you’ve faced yet.”

“More dangerous than the Master?” she inquired, trying to look more interested than she was.

(I guess it wouldn’t do to let them know I’m not worried about Spike killing me.  Might be hard to explain.)

“Don’t underestimate Spike,” Angel said quickly.  “He is nothing if not persistent.”

He stopped in confusion as Buffy laughed and whispered, “He is that.”  She saw the look on his face and mentally scolded herself.   “I’m sorry Angel,” she said, waving at him to continue, “please tell us more about him.”

By the time Angel was through telling them about Spike and he and Giles were making plans for Saturday night, the feast of St. Vegeous,  Buffy had lost interest in the conversation.  With her newfound perspective, she was very aware of the omissions in Angel’s stories about Spike, and also the edge of irritation in his voice that was always there in later years when he spoke of his grandchilde.

She could tell Giles was getting very frustrated by her lack of attention to their plans for Saturday night and she finally asked, “Are you both so sure he’s going to attack me Saturday?  Maybe he’ll get tired of waiting and do something before then.  Tomorrow night, maybe. At Back to School Night.”

She rolled her eyes as Angel and Giles ignored her and went back to making their plans for the weekend.

As the day went on and she lived every minute of it, including such mundane things as eating dinner and sneaking out of the house for patrol, it was becoming more and more obvious that she was not dreaming. 

(Somehow, I’ve been returned to my sixteen year old self, but with all my memories and knowledge.  I guess it’s time to let Giles in on what’s going on and see if he can help me get back to my own time and place.)

She decided to wait until Back to School Night was over and she had seen Spike again before telling her watcher what she thought was going on.

(If I have to be stuck here, I don’t plan to wait four more years before I kiss him for the first time.)

Chapter Three

The time came for Back to School Night and Buffy was able to shrug off her concerns about Snyder and her mother meeting each other.  She could see him for what he was – a power-hungry little man – and dismissed him as unimportant to her life.

(Maybe I’ll let Spike eat him tonight,) she thought idly as she passed out cookies and waited for him to arrive with his minions.  Where her sixteen year old self would have been aghast at the thought of letting a vampire have a human, even one as obnoxious as Snyder, her older self shrugged and wondered what high school would have been like without the nasty little man.

(Maybe Robin would be sent here sooner.  No wait, that wouldn’t be good cause Spike is still evil and he’ll try to dust him.)

She sighed and decided that Snyder would get to live a little longer in this world too.

When the sounds of screaming and breaking glass signaled the arrival of the vampires, she perked up and ran to be sure her mother was safe.  As soon as she knew the adults were as safe as they could be, she began her search for Spike.  She idly staked whatever minions she came across, not stopping until she found the smirking object of her search.  As she stepped out into the hallway and dropped the axe, she saw him run an appreciative eye up her bare legs, past her short skirt and tight shirt to her face.

The lustful look on his face almost made her forget that this Spike was not chipped, not soulled and not in love with her.  (Yet) she reminded herself.

Shaking off the urge to walk right up to him and cup the bulge she knew was growing in his pants, she stared at him intently and said her line, “Do we really need weapons for this?”

In retrospect, it was an incredibly stupid thing for a Slayer to do or say.  She could remember years later, Spike’s pointing out to her that she always had to have her weapon ready because a vampire’s fangs and claws were always ready.

(What the hell was I thinking?  It’s a good thing Spike can’t resist a challenge or he would have had me right then and there.)

As she knew he would, he dropped the pipe he’d been holding. Only after running his hand down his chest and flat stomach to draw her eyes back to his crotch.  She watched his eyes and saw the confusion when she licked her lips and smiled in appreciation at his actions.

(This could be a lot of fun.  Damn sexy vampire thinks he’s going to freak out the little virgin Slayer.  He doesn’t know I know there’s a Victorian gentleman lurking inside that punk package. Or that I know all about pushing his buttons and he hasn’t found any of mine yet. Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun.)

Buffy was so busy anticipating how much fun she was going to have playing with Spike that she almost forgot he seriously wanted to kill her at this time in their lives.  His first punch rocked her back on her heels and she shook off the sexual fantasies until she could get the situation under control.  Although she could see her mother hovering in the background and staring in confused amazement at her daughter’s battle with the vampire, she knew she wouldn’t be needing her mom’s help with the axe this time.

Years of fighting with and beside Spike, not to mention sparring with him for training, had given her an intimate knowledge of his fighting style.  That plus her years of experience as a slayer made this fight a very different one from their evenly matched battle the real first time they met.  It was easy for her to anticipate Spike’s moves and counter them before they could hurt her.

She watched the frustration growing on his face, but she could also see the joy he always had in facing a worthy opponent and she knew he was having a good time.  When it seemed that they had been fighting for much longer than the first time, she took advantage of her knowledge and experience to sweep his legs out and slam his head into the floor. 

Even though he appeared to be unconscious, she leapt to straddle him and hold a piece of the axe handle over his heart.  She waited until she knew her mother had followed her instructions to take the others and leave before allowing herself to relax and lean over his face.  She stroked his brow ridges until he relaxed back into his beautiful human features and she was looking down onto the face she’d only seen in her dreams for the past year.

She got so wrapped up in reacquainting herself with his chiseled cheekbones and full lips; not to mention the incredible feel of his body between her legs, that it was a full second before she realized his eyes were open and he was staring at her with a combination of lust, hate and bewilderment.

( What the bloody hell?  I was out like a light, the Slayers sittin’ on me with a stake in her hand, and I’m not dust. )

“Hi,” Buffy said cheerily. 

He looked up at her suspiciously.  “Like to tell me why I’m not blowin’ in the wind, pet?  Not that I don’t ‘preciate it,” he added quickly as he felt the stake press into his chest just enough to let him know that she could drive it home before he could move.

Buffy shook her head and admitted reluctantly, “I don’t think I can do that yet.”

She fought the urge to drop the stake and run her hands over his body by reminding herself that this Spike was still in love with Drusilla and would take advantage of her weakness in a heartbeat.  Thinking about how much he loved the crazy vampire helped her focus and she glared down at him as though he was deliberately cheating on her.

Spike could feel her pulse pounding and could see the play of emotions flicker across her face, but he was completely dumbfounded as to what was going on.  By all rights he should never have awakened from his short spell of unconsciousness.  She should have staked him and moved on.  That’s what Slayers did.  They slayed. No witty quips, no sitting on the intended slayee with their hot little bodies only inches from his rapidly growing erection...

(Bollocks! Wasn’t bad enough she beat me, she’s got to rub it in my face by turnin’ me on.)

Buffy watched his eyes darken and knew that she was having the same effect on him that he was on her.  In spite of how much he wanted to kill her, his body was hers for the taking.  Never taking her eyes off those intense blue lasers, she slid back until his denim-covered erection was touching her damp sex.  She knew he could feel and smell her arousal and she smiled at the way he involuntarily pushed his hips up against her heat when she tightened her legs around him again.

Keeping the point of the stake pressed into the skin of his chest hard enough to cause a drop of blood to form, Buffy leaned slowly toward his face, dropping her eyes to his mouth.  When her warm lips met his soft, cool ones, she couldn’t help giving a little moan as he immediately responded to her kiss.  Their lips moved softly against each other as Buffy reveled in the familiar sensation and the vampire tasted her warm, mobile mouth for the first time.  When he tentatively touched her lower lip with his tongue, requesting more, she readily complied, sending her own tongue out to meet his and caressing it before drawing it in to her mouth.

Buffy lost track of how long they were there, lost in exploring each other’s lips and tongues.  She could feel Spike’s cock pushing against her and fought the urge to drop the stake so that she could lie down on top of him the way she wanted to.

Suddenly the sound of voices reached their ears and Buffy pulled back reluctantly.  Spike’s eyes flickered back to amber as he recognized Angel’s voice calling Buffy’s name frantically.  He looked at her almost reproachfully as she gave a guilty start and sat up completely.  Unfortunately, that forced her hips down onto his, grinding her warm dampness into him.

Ignoring the stake pressed against his chest, the vampire sat up quickly, leaving them face to face with Buffy straddling his lap.  The stake forgotten, she slipped her arms around his neck and nipped him gently right below his jaw where she knew he loved it.  She giggled when he groaned, earning her an indignant glare as he pulled back in shock.

“I know you, Spike,” she responded to his unspoken question.

“You ARE going to explain this to me, Slayer,” he growled, “but not right now.  I think it’s time for me to leave before the cavalry gets here.”

He shocked both of them, himself more than Buffy, by leaning in to plant a quick kiss on her lips as he whispered, “Later, luv,” and threw her off his lap.  He grinned at her indignant sputtering from where she was sprawled on the floor, then blew her another kiss as he turned and vanished out the nearby window.

When Angel, Xander and Giles came sliding to a halt, Buffy was already back on her feet and waiting for them.

“Buffy! Are you alright?  Did he hurt you?” 

Angel’s readiness to assume that she had lost the fight angered the Slayer and she huffed at him, “Of course, I’m all right.  The day I can’t take Spike...” her voice trailed off as she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to even know the blond vamp yet, let alone have fought him before.

“If you are all right, does that mean you dusted him?” Xander inquired eagerly.

“Um, no. Not exactly.  I did have my stake pressed over his heart, though,” she added brightly.  “that has to count for something.”

“If you had your stake over his heart, why isn’t he dust?” Angel asked with a growl.  He was walking around Buffy obviously sniffing her as he did.

“You know, Angel, that whole smelling things on people is really yucky,” she snapped at him.  She knew he was scenting not only her close contact with Spike, but the arousal still dampening her underwear.

Her heart softened when she noticed the bewildered and hurt look on his face.

(This is Angel. He loves you and he is just trying to protect what he thinks is a very young Slayer.  He hasn’t lost his soul, he hasn’t left you and he has no idea that he will do those things.)

“I’m sorry, Angel,” she said softly. “I know you’re just trying to protect me, but, really, I’m fine.”

He nodded briefly, but the hurt look didn’t leave his face and she knew he would be going back to his apartment to brood later.

Telling her watcher she would talk to him tomorrow, she ran off to catch up with her mother and try to explain away the evening’s activities.  On the way there, it occurred to her that keeping her mother in the dark about her Slaying until she found out the hard way, might not be the best approach. 

(Okay, then, here goes my first attempt, other than kissing Spike, to really go against what I know actually happened.  Hopefully, it won’t end the world.)

When her mother indicated that she wasn’t angry, but proud of Buffy’s behavior during the crisis, the Slayer decided that was the perfect opening for her confession.  They settled into the kitchen with cups of hot chocolate and Buffy began her approach to the subject.

“So, Mom, did you get a good look at those guys who attacked the school tonight?”

Her mother looked at Buffy carefully.  She knew that the fight she had witnessed between her young daughter and the strangely-featured man was well beyond the skills and physical capabilities of most sixteen-year-old girls. If she was honest with herself, she would admit that it was probably beyond the capabilities of most adult, professional bodyguards.

“Yes, I did,” she answered simply and waited.

“What did you think they were?”

“Well, Principal Snyder indicated they were a gang hopped up on PCP....”

Buffy’s snort focused her mother’s attention back on her daughter.

“But I have a feeling you’re going to tell me that isn’t what they are, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering directly, she asked quietly, “Do you remember why I said I had to set fire to the gym in LA?”

Her mother flinched at the memory of that trying time in their lives and nodded.  Then her eyes widened and flew to meet Buffy’s expectant look.

“Oh my god, you said they were...vampires? And that you were trying to kill them.”

Buffy nodded and continued to look at her mother until she could see that all the dots had been connected.  Her mother’s face was a study in disbelief and horror.

“We...we sent you to a psychiatrist!  We thought you were crazy.”

Buffy smiled bitterly, “Yeah, that was definitely one of the highlights of my life.”

When she saw the tears in her mother’s eyes, she regretted her tone and the words instantly.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she grabbed her mother’s hand and squeezed it.  “I understand.  If I hadn’t been me, I’d have thought I was crazy too.”

“So, those...people tonight...they were vampires?”

“’Fraid so.  Apparently we moved here so that I could take care of the little problem this town has, what with being built over a hellmouth and all.”

At her mother’s blank look, she straightened and patted her hand reassuringly.  “That’s another story. Right now, all you need to know is that there are such things as vampires and demons, and I was...chosen...to fight them.  I am the Slayer.  The one in all the—oh, nuts.  I’ll have Giles come and talk to you.”

“Mr Giles? The librarian?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s his day job.  Watching me is kinda his night job.”

Her mother shook her head, trying to make sense of the things her daughter was saying.  Suddenly her gaze went over Buffy’s head and she asked in a small voice, “ Buffy?  These...vampires.  Do they sometimes look like ordinary humans?”

“They can, Mom.  That’s why you have to be so careful about who you invite into the house.  Why do you ask?”

“Because I think there’s one out there looking in the window,” her mother answered without ever taking her frightened eyes off the window in the kitchen door.

Buffy whirled, pulling her stake from the waistband of her skirt as she did so.  Standing just outside the kitchen door and making boogey-man faces in the window was the blond vampire she’d been sitting on earlier.

Buffy stomped to the door and threw it open angrily.

“What do you want, Spike?  And stop making stupid faces at my mom. You’re scaring her.”

“Buffy,” her mother ventured, “shouldn’t we be locking the door rather than opening it?”

“It’s okay, Mom. He can’t get in unless one of us invites him – and we’re not going to do that.  Not yet, anyway.”

Spike and her mother wore identical expressions of confusion at her “not yet”, but she ignored them and again demanded, “What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to finish our...conversation, pet,” he smirked, rolling his tongue up under his teeth.

Buffy heard her mother’s gasp as she thought he was referring to the violent fight she’d witnessed between the two blonds.   She shot her mother a reassuring glance, then turned back to the vampire lounging in the doorway.

“Tempting as that thought is, “ she laughed at his startled look and the way his eyes immediately darkened with desire, “I don’t think so.  We will finish it, though, Spike.  I promise you,” she added softly.  “I promise we will.”

For just a second the cocky look slipped and he stared at her intently.  “Gonna hold you to that, luv,” he said with a low rumble that made her body tingle in exciting ways.

She looked back at him, wanting nothing more than to step out the door and throw herself into his arms, but she forced herself to hold back and remember that to him she was just a new Slayer he had to fight.  The way he licked his lips as he stared at her told her he was already feeling things he didn’t want to, but she knew Spike too well to think that he would let lust get in the way of bagging his third Slayer.

“I know you will,” she replied with a smile.  “I’m counting on it.”

“Why’s that, pet?” He tilted his head at her inquisitively.

“Because I know you,” she replied and shut the door on his befuddled face.
 

Chapter Four

Buffy gave her new life several more days, just to be sure she wasn’t going to be snatched back into her bed in England, before she approached Giles and told him she had something to talk to him about.

“In private, Giles.  I don’t want anybody else to know about this until after you’ve had time to research it.”

Her Watcher looked at her curiously, but agreed and quietly suggested that Willow and Xander take advantage of the nice afternoon to go for a long walk.  Her two friends looked somewhat hurt, but the prospect of an afternoon somewhere besides the musty library was too much to resist, even for Willow.

As soon as they had gone, Giles turned to Buffy and indicated one of the comfortable chairs in his office. 

“I presume you are now prepared to tell me why you seem to know more about William the Bloody and his possible activities than his own grandsire does?” he said mildly.

“Can’t put anything by you, can I,” she smiled back at him with affection. 

“I am fairly certain you ‘put things by me’ at regular intervals,” he commented dryly.  “However, in this case, I have definitely picked up on a few glaring discrepancies that I would like to have explained to me. If you don’t mind.”

“Such as?” she asked, putting off the explanation as long as possible.

“Such as how and why you know Spike, and why you seem so sure he cannot hurt you.  Such as when you became so adept at your calling that you could take on four vampires at a time and still maintain an unrelated conversation with your friends...”

Buffy gave a guilty start as she remembered taking Xander with her on patrol the other night and toying with the inexperienced fledglings they found while she talked and joked with him.  She made a note to herself that she should not take things quite so casually in the future as she had noticed that this body was not as strong as the one she was accustomed to. 

“And why your mother made a phone call to me this morning demanding that I tell Principal Snyder that you are the Slayer and he is to stop harassing you!”

“Whoops?” Buffy offered meekly by way of apology.

The older man continued to glare at her until she took a deep breath and let it out forcefully.

“Okay, here goes.  But you have to promise not to wig on me, ‘K?”

“Fine,” he muttered, “There will be no ‘wigging.’ ”

“Several nights ago I went to bed in my room, just like I always do,” she began. 

When her watcher continued to look at her expectantly, she paused and then added.  “My bedroom is in London, in a very large house that you own.”
While the Watcher stared at her incredulously, she added, “And it was September 20, 2003.”

She leaned back in her chair to watch the inevitable removal and rapid polishing of his glasses.  When he had put them back on his face and clasped his hands in front of him, he was finally able to talk; although, “Good Lord”, was all he could manage.

She saw him visibly control himself and go into research mode as he began firing questions at her.

When they had established that she was really in her 20’s, had been the slayer for 7 years before retiring (Buffy was keeping her explanations as simple as possible to begin with and she left out the multiple Slayers), and had no idea what happened to her, he stopped and just looked at her.

“A slayer that lives into her 20’s,” he shook his head.  “You’re a miracle.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” she smirked without explanation.

He shot her a suspicious look, but didn’t ask her to elaborate.  Instead he put his head on his hands and thought hard for several minutes. When he raised his head, she could see that he had accepted the situation and was already exploring options.

“While I am sure there is much you could tell me, beginning with how and why you seem to know Spike so well,”  He didn’t miss the blush that went into her youthful cheeks and mentally groaned.  “I feel it is not in anyone’s best interests for you to tell us very much about the future until we know why you are here.”

“That’s what I figured,” she said, nodding.  “If this is an alternate dimension, or just a really, really long and often boring dream, then it probably doesn’t matter what I do to change things.  But, if I’m really in my past, then anything I do could cause—“

“Anything you do could potentially change the world,” her watcher finished for her.

“Well, yeah.”

“So, the safest thing to do right now, is for you to proceed just as you would have/did the first time around.”  He peered at her over his glasses as he asked, “You have been sticking to the same scenarios, have you not?”

Buffy blushed again, and decided he didn’t need to know about her molesting Spike on the floor of the school hallway.

“Well, I told my mom last night about me being the Slayer – in my world, I didn’t do that until after...until much later in the year.  And I’ve had this conversation with you,” she added brightly.

Not to be deterred from his need to know, Giles persisted, “And Spike?  What happened in your time when you fought him the first time?”

“Uh, pretty much the same thing,” she said, blushing furiously again. “Except, in my time I wasn’t as good a fighter yet and he...”

“He beat you,” he said flatly.

Buffy pouted, but admitted, “Well, he got lucky. But my mom hit him with the axe and he ran away.”

Giles breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Right then, that probably won’t affect anything in this timeline. You’ll just have to be careful not to meet him again until...”

Something on Buffy’s face stopped him.

“Unless, of course, you have already faced him again.” He looked at her anxiously.

“Uh, not in the fighting sense, no.  But I did talk to him last night for a few minutes.”

“You TALKED to him?”

“Um, yeah?”

“You spoke to William the Bloody.  As in, had a conversation.” His voice was full of disbelief.  “And you both walked away again?  Did neither of you want the other dead?”

Buffy took a deep breath and calmed herself as she remembered how Giles had conspired with Robin Wood to kill Spike.

“I think the jury is still out on that for Spike just now.”  She met her watcher’s eyes and said with complete honesty, “But I do not want him dusted.  Ever.”

“I presume you have a good reason for that remarkably irresponsible attitude?”

His words reminded Buffy that his man worked for the organization that insisted on teaching Slayers that all demons were evil, to be eliminated on sight, and that, even without having met Angelus yet, he was unlikely to trust one just on her say so.

“I have several good reasons, actually,” she said in her best adult Slayer voice.  “Several very important reasons.  And that’s all I’m going to say about it until we know what’s going on with me and why I’m here.”

The man studied the young girl sitting across from him and realized what he had been missing for the past week.  This was not the giddy teenager he had been working with for the past year or more.  While the body sitting there was undoubtedly only sixteen years old, the poise, demeanor, attitude and, most importantly, the eyes were of a much older girl.  They were the eyes of a woman who had suffered and grown wise in the process.

It finally hit him what it could mean to have a Slayer with over seven years of experience and knowledge working on the hellmouth and he leaned back in his chair and relaxed.

“Very well, Buffy.  Until we actually know if the information you have for us can create problems, I will trust you on this matter.  However, in view of what Angel has to say about Spike’s love of bloodshed, I cannot promise to ignore him for long.”

Buffy snorted slightly and said, “Not everything Angel says is the complete truth, you know.  He edits things to make himself look better.”

Once again, Giles looked at her in complete shock.

“Forgive me, but I understood that you and Angel...not that I approve of the relationship...but are you not in love with him?  And he with you?”

Buffy sighed and slumped in her chair.  “It’s complicated, Giles.  Let’s just say that, while I will always have a place in my heart for Angel, I did eventually outgrow my teenage crush.  And, there are...extenuating...circumstances that make it impossible for us to be together anyway.”

“These circumstances would be more of the things I shouldn’t know about yet?”

“Oh, yeah.  Big time,” she said, shuddering at the thought of telling Giles his budding romance with Ms. Calendar was going to be ending in a very unpleasant way by Angelus.

“Well then, it appears that I need to begin researching this situation immediately.  What can you tell me about your activities leading up to finding yourself here?”

“Not much besides what I told you.  I said good night to Willow and went to—Oh my god!  Willow!  I’m going to kill her!”

Giles raised his eyebrows, shocked at her vehemence toward her best friend.

“Willow?” he asked.  “What does Willow have to do with it?”

“Oh, I’m gonna guess, pretty much everything!”

Still confused, Giles continued to look at her warily.

“She must have done a spell – and, as usual....”

“A spell?  Willow?”

Buffy blew out an exasperated breath.  “Oh yeah,  Willow and spells?  Sometimes not so mixy.”

“Are saying Willow sent you back here? On purpose?”

“I doubt she was trying to send me back here.  I’m sure she was trying to help me...I wasn’t a very happy person.  And I was...” Buffy agonized over how much she could safely tell her watcher.  “Let’s just say she was probably trying make me happy and this is the result.”

Giles shook his head in wonder.  “Willow...who would have...well, I’ll have to start training her.  Magic is nothing to fool around with unprepared. She could cause all sorts of...” his voice trailed off as he looked at Buffy’s rueful grin.

“D’ya think?” she said wryly.  Then she shrugged and added, “It doesn’t really matter that we know she did it. The question still is, what did she do?  I really don’t have any great desire to relive the next 6 years of my life.  At least not some parts of it.  But I’m afraid to do anything to change it.  I’m afraid of what will happen to the future.”

“Quite right,” Giles agreed.  “However, if you are from an alternate dimension, then any actions you take here would have to effect on your original dimension and you could perhaps avoid some of the more painful things that occurred.”

When he saw Buffy’s hopeful joy at that thought, he hastened to add, “But we must be extremely careful until we know that for sure.  And, that will include your interactions with Spike; whatever your...relationship...might be with him in the future, right now he is your mortal enemy.  A creature that has slain two Slayers.  Do be careful, Buffy.”

“I will. Don’t worry.  I don’t want to have to dust him to save my life.  And Giles?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t underestimate what Willow can do with magic.”

The older man understood immediately that he was being given a cryptic warning and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. 
 

Chapter Five

            Buffy wandered toward her home, basking in the warm sunshine – something she really missed, living in London – and enjoying the sense of having no pressing duties.  She knew she needed to patrol later that night, but she also knew that, except for Spike, there was nothing in Sunnydale at this particular time that she couldn’t take down easily.

            Thinking of Spike reminded her of Giles’ warning to be careful around him and she sighed as she acknowledged the truth to his warning.

           (This isn’t my Spike.  Either because the things that made him mine haven’t happened yet, or because we’re in another dimension where our lives are different.  Either way, if I let him get too close, he might decide to drain me before he falls in love.)

           She kicked at a rock in her frustration at being so close to him again and not being able to be with him. 

          After Giles had studied interdimensional spells, time travel spells and whatever else he could think of that might give them a clue, he called Buffy into his office again to discuss their options.

           “As I see it, the only way we will know if this is your past, or an alternate timeline, is to carefully examine everything that has happened here so far, including anything you have done differently so far.  I need to know as much as you feel you can safely tell me about what would be happening right now the past that you remember.”

              Buffy wrinkled her brow in thought and then ventured. “In my time, Spike would be working on setting up a ritual to heal Drusilla, using Angel’s blood.  He would have hired the Order of Taraka to kill me...” she broke off at Giles’ explosive, “Good Lord!”

         “Hey, don’t sweat it – I took—okay, never mind.  Oh! I almost forgot! Kendra!”

          “Kendra?”

          “Yes, she’s another Slayer. She was called when the Master killed me for a minute last year.  She should be showing up here any time now...”her voice trailed off as she remembered how short Kendra’s career as a Slayer had been. 

          Giles looked at the sad expression on her face and made a mental note not to get too attached to Kendra, if and when she showed up.  The realty of Buffy’s position suddenly hit him and he cringed inside for the girl he was coming to think of as a surrogate daughter.

           (Dear Lord! She knows what’s going to happen to everyone around her!  Who will live, who will die and how and when.  What a burden to carry!  And here I am telling her not to do anything to change it.)

             He looked at Buffy with new-found sympathy and said gently, “We will sort this out soon, Buffy.  I promise.  I know it must be frustrating to know that certain things will happen if you don’t stop them, but...”

            “Giles.  There are some things I just don’t think I can let happen.  I don’t think I’m strong enough to stand by and watch...  There are just some things I don’t want to go through a second time.  Or to watch someone else go through, for that matter,” she said enigmatically with a quick glance at him.

          When she began her patrol that evening, she went by herself, leaving Xander and Willow to wonder what was going on with their friend.  She had yet to tell anyone but Giles about her situation and the strain of pretending to be a high school junior was telling on her.

            She had been avoiding the run-down industrial part of town, thinking that she would have less chance of running into Spike if she stayed away from the factory.  She knew he’d taken over the Master’s minions and was technically the Master of Sunnydale right now, but she also knew he was spending more time worrying about curing Drusilla than he was killing her.

“It’s too bad,” she mused aloud as she walked through the cemetery, “I could use a good fight with Spike to take the edge off.”

“Be careful what you wish for, little girl,” she heard behind her and whirled to find the blond vamp aiming a kick at her head. She just slipped past his foot, her eyes lighting up as he followed it with a series of punches that she blocked easily. 

For over an hour, they fought their way through the graveyard, dodging thrown tombstones, and leaping from crypt to crypt.  Buffy’s blood was singing as they punched and kicked their way from one side of the cemetery to another. Neither one was able to get or keep the upper hand long enough to get a kill.  In Buffy’s case, her intimate knowledge of Spike’s fighting style was somewhat mitigated by the weaker body she was using. 

(That and the fact that I don’t want to kill him) she thought to herself as she passed up another chance to end the battle permanently.

After a while, she realized that Spike wasn’t really trying all that hard to kill her either.  She could tell from the look on his face that he was enjoying every minute of the battle and she gave him one of her dazzling smiles when he laughed in appreciation of a particularly clever series of moves.

As the fight wore on, becoming less of a battle to the death and more of a sparring match, they slowed down until they were barely registering the weaker and weaker blows they exchanged.

Finally, the vampire raised his hands in the classic sign of surrender and said,  “Time out, pet.  What do you say?”

“Fine with me,” she answered, immediately sitting down to lean against the side of a crypt.  With a sudden start, she realized she was leaning against the door of the one Spike would later choose to live in.  She reached behind her and ran her hand lightly over the door she had kicked open so many times, then flinched when she felt him sit down beside her.

“So, Slayer,” he said, leaning his head back against the door with her, “when are you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on here?”

“I...I don’t know what you mean,” she tried in her best “blond” voice. “We’re enemies and we’re fighting.  Except now we’re not...fighting, that is.  Now we’re resting and then maybe we’ll be fighting again, and...”

She stopped when she saw that he was giving her one of his skeptical raised eyebrow looks that said, “I see right through you, Slayer.”

“Not buying that, huh?” she said with a sigh.

“Not even rentin’ it, pet.”  He pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his duster and casually lit it.

“How’s Dru?” she asked abruptly, looking for a change of subject.

Spike choked on the smoke as he was blindsided by her not only knowing that Dru was with him, but that she was sick.  He looked at her hard, but didn’t comment or answer her question.

“I’m not going to let you do it, you know,” she remarked casually, as though they had been discussing the ritual all along.

“Don’t try to stop me,” he warned, amazed to find that he really didn’t want her to try to stop him because he didn’t want to have a reason to kill her.

“It’s my job,” she said quietly, then added after a long pause,  “And I can’t let you hurt Angel”

“Fuck your job!” he exploded.  “And fuck the bloody poof, too. He owes her.”

“He probably does,” she admitted, “But I can’t let you have him, regardless.”

“Do you love him?”

The question surprised both of them, but having asked it, Spike waited stubbornly for her answer.  Buffy thought hard before responding.

“I...it’s complicated.”

He snorted derisively.  “ ‘S nothin’ complicated about love, Slayer. Either you do or you don’t.”

She rolled her head over to look at his angry face and couldn’t resist running her hand down one knife-edged cheekbone.  She felt him start and then shiver under her touch.  She made herself look into his confused eyes as she said softly, “I do.”

“I want to kill you. You know that, don’t you?” he blurted out, unsure of what was making him so angry, but knowing it had everything to do with her loving Angel and nothing to do with her being the Slayer.

“You won’t,” she said simply, dropping her hand.

“You sure about that, luv?” he tried for a cocky smirk, but it didn’t quite come off.

She nodded her head and said softly,  “I know you, Spike.”

“Bloody hell, woman!  Will you stop saying that!  How the hell do you know me?  You just met me!  I don’t know YOU!”

“I know you don’t,” she said sadly.  “But you will,” she added so low no one but a vampire would have been able to hear her.

“Is that a threat or promise, Slayer?” he asked, never taking his eyes off hers.  Without being aware he was doing it, his hand came up to push a stand of hair off her face and he caught his breath when she closed her eyes briefly.

“I guess it’s a bit of both,” she admitted with a shaky laugh as she forced herself to move away from him and stand up.

The vampire kipped to his feet, but the comeback he’d been preparing never left his lips as a Faryl demon grabbed him from behind and tried to wrench his head off.  Buffy managed to get one good punch in, enough to make the demon let go of Spike’s head, before she was grabbed herself and had no more time to see what was happening to Spike. 

She had no weapons with her but her stake, which she knew wouldn’t do much more than irritate a Faryl.  She soon found herself with her back to the crypt door and the vampire snarling and snapping beside her as they tried to fight off the pack of large, angry demons.

“What did you do to make these guys mad?” she gasped, kicking and punching in an effort to keep them at a distance.

“Me? What did I do?  It was probably you.  You’re the bloody Slayer, aren’t you?” he snarled back, slashing at the face of the nearest one with his claws.

They didn’t speak again, the only sounds being the whump! of punches landing and the snarling of the vampire and the demons.  Buffy got as close as she could to him without interfering with their fighting and whispered, “I don’t think we’re winning.”

“No shit,” he growled back.  “You’re all ‘save-the-world-girl’, what do you think we should do about it?”

She edged back against the door and pushed lightly to be sure it would open, then nudged him and said, “Let’s duck in here.”

“And be trapped? No thank you, Slayer.”

“Trust me?” she asked meekly.

“i should have my head examined,” he growled as he nodded at her and rushed the demons, pushing them back briefly to allow her to open the door and slip inside.  At her hissed, “now!” he jumped back into the crypt while she slammed the door shut and leaned against it.

“Uh, Spike? Little help here?” 

He grabbed a sarcophagus and dragged it over to lean against the bulging door.

“That’s not gonna hold ‘em long,” he growled.

“It doesn’t need to.  Come on,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the back of the crypt.  When he saw her wrestling the top off another sarcophagus, he rushed to help and was soon looking down into what appeared to be a room under the crypt.

He arched an eyebrow at her, but didn’t waste time asking how she knew about the room.  He just jumped down, using his enhanced vampire senses to see in the dark room.  Then he turned and looked up at her.

“All clear, Slayer. Come on. I’ll catch you.”

Buffy climbed over the side of the sarcophagus and dropped lightly down, only to find herself caught just off the ground by a pair of strong arms.  They both froze, bodies just barely touching, while they listened to the sounds of the Faryls trying to push the door open. 

“We should hide,” she whispered.  “They’ll notice the open coffin.”

“They’re mean, but they’re stupid,” he replied, inhaling the scent coming from her hair.  Without meaning to, he found himself nuzzling her ear and he heard her heart beat speed up as he neared her neck.

“Not gonna bite you, luv,” he murmured as he ran his lips down to the spot just below her ear.  He gently licked the spot with his tongue and when she gasped, he smiled and said, “Now I know somethin’ about you, Slayer.”

Buffy smacked him lightly on the chest, then allowed her hand to linger on the hard muscles she found there.  She was finding it almost impossible to be in such close proximity to him and remember that his affections belonged to someone else. 

She was just steeling herself to push him away, when they heard the door being pushed open. Spike drew her back into the rear of the cavern and into a crevice in the wall, pushing her in ahead of him so that his leather clad back was the only thing exposed to the open room.  His hands were resting on the wall on either side of her head, and his head was bent down toward hers.  She could feel his cool breath on her face and knew if she looked up their mouths would be only centimeters apart.

Spike heard her heart rate skyrocket and wondered what the cause was.  He wasn’t getting any sense of fear off her; if anything she was excited. When he smelled her arousal, he almost groaned at the effect it had on him.

So slowly she was barely moving, Buffy brought her head up until she was looking blindly up toward his face.  She knew he could probably see her, even though the darkness was complete to her less sensitive eyes.  She sensed rather than saw him moving his mouth toward hers and suppressed a whimper when he stopped just short of her lips to whisper, “What are you doin’ to me, Slayer?”

In response, she lifted her chin slightly and touched her lips to his.  She could feel his fangs and knew he was still in game face, but she persisted with the kiss anyway, ignoring the small nicks in her lips from his razor sharp canines.  She felt a shudder go through him when tiny drops of her blood oozed out onto his questing tongue.

Suddenly his arms were around her and she was being pressed against his body as he deepened the kiss, heedless of the damage his fangs were doing to her lips and tongue. 

This was new to Buffy.  As violent as their love-making could be, and often was, Spike had never let his demon out when he was with Buffy.  It surprised her to find that the reminder of what he really was excited her more than she wanted to admit.  While he sucked on her bleeding lips with a groan, she slid her hands under his tee shirt and stroked the smooth skin on his back, taking advantage of his distraction to caress him the way she’d been wanting to.

When she pushed his shirt up and pulled her mouth away to fasten it on one of his hard nipples, he hissed and clutched her arms.  She teased him with her tongue and lips, nipping gently on the pebbled tip until he was growling so loud she was afraid the Faryls would hear.

“Like that, don’t you,” she breathed, pulling back from him and putting her hands on his chest.

“You know I do,” he growled, trying to pull her into another kiss.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “I know you do.”

She pushed him gently away from her and was surprised when he didn’t resist.  As they eased out of the crevice, they could hear the snarling Faryls stomping out of the crypt and soon there was only silence overhead.

“I love Dru,” he said angrily, as though she was going to argue with him about it.

“I know you do,” she replied, stroking his face. 

“Then what the bloody hell are you doing to me?  Has the great poof got you so horny you have to hit on the first convenient vampire?”

She flinched, both at his tone and the words that reminded her that once again, she was taking what she wanted from him without thinking about what he might want.

Spike was able to see the flinch, even in the complete darkness of the room, and started to apologize then got furious at himself for it.

(What is this girl doing to me?  I’m leavin’ my dark princess with minions to follow a Slayer around.  A Slayer who somehow knows where and how to touch me to make me crave her body.)

His words, and the resulting guilt she felt, were enough to douse the heat between them and she turned away saying, “I think we can leave now.  You can get back to your...girl friend, and I can—“

“And you can get back to the all-so-soulful Angelus,” he growled, not sure why that bothered him so much.  “As horny as you are, I’m surprised the two of you aren’t shaggin’ like bunnies.”

Buffy cringed at his cruel words, but she was grateful for the reminder of just who this Spike was at this time. 

(Note to self – teasing the vampire is fun; getting to close to him before he’s ready – not such a good idea.)

She let her fist fly into his nose and as he grabbed it with a curse, she said coldly, “Trust me, Spike.  You really don’t want that to happen.”

She whirled, not even worrying about turning her back on the angry vampire, and leapt upward to grab the edge of the entrance and pull herself up.  Without looking back, she marched out of the crypt and headed for home grumbling to herself the whole time.

“I’d almost forgotten what a pig he was before he got the soul. Damn stupid vampire.  Would serve him right if I did sleep with Angel.  That’d show him what a ‘ho Dru is.  I could warn Jenny...we could just avoid Angelus until Willow gets the spell ready and....oh my God!  I’m seriously considering sleeping with Angel! What is wrong with me?”

Spike remained in the crypt until he was sure she was gone, his mind whirling.  He looked around frantically, desperate for something to throw or break to relief his frustration.  He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to put his mouth on the Slayer’s neck and not bite her.  Instead of killing her so she couldn’t interfere with curing his dark princess, he’d ended up kissing her.  Thinking about kissing her reminded him of the blood he’d swallowed from her savaged lips and tongue and he groaned at the memory of its sweet, powerful taste and the effect it had on him.

In spite of the bitter words that followed the kissing, and the subsequent abuse to his nose, he was still sporting the erection he’d had since they started fighting hours ago.  With a muffled curse, he unzipped his pants and wrapped his cool hand around the hard shaft and pulled vigorously until he found some small release.  He tried loyally to think about his lovely Drusilla, but as friction caused his hand and cock to warm up, all he could picture was the Slayer’s hot little hand touching him and as he came it was the word “Slayer” that hissed through his lips.

He bounded up to the crypt without touching the sides at all and stormed out of the graveyard, desperate for something to kill. 
 

Chapter Six

Buffy spent the next few days waiting anxiously for Giles to come up with an answer as to where she was and how she got there, but he was still stymied in his search.  He was coming perilously close to contacting the Council and explaining the situation to them, but Buffy was adamant that they not be told anything about it unless absolutely necessary.

“I don’t understand you, Buffy.  The Council exists to support its Slayers.  Why aren’t you willing to go to them for help?”

“I have one word for you, Giles.  Cruciamentum.”  She turned her back on him, but not so quickly that she didn’t see him blanch.

“Oh dear Lord,  I had completely forgotten that if you have reached your 20’s then you have already survived—“

“No thanks to you or your precious Council,” she interrupted bitterly.

Giles was left mute while he contemplated again the things this woman had gone through and the things she knew.  He determined to see how much information he could get from the Council without actually telling them what was going on.  Buffy assured him that the newly called Slayer would be showing up in Sunnydale any day, and he decided her arrival would be a good opportunity to address the issues with the Council.

When he reminded Buffy of Kendra’s impending arrival, she turned pale and said, “Oh my gosh! Angel!  I forgot about him!”

Where in her time line, she and Angel were together almost every night for at least a little while, in this one she was avoiding him as much as possible so as not to lead him on to expect more than she was willing to give him.  In spite of her angry muttering when she left Spike, she had no intention of having sex with Angel – birthday or no birthday.

She racked her brain to come up with the exact date or time of Kendra’s arrival as she hurried to Angel’s apartment to warn him about the other Slayer.  When she got there, she could see that she was almost too late. Kendra had already locked Angel in the storage room with the window facing the sun.

After a fight that lasted a much shorter period of time, again due to Buffy’s experience and creativity, she and Kendra had their stand-off about who was the Slayer and took themselves off to let Giles sort it out.

When they got to the library, Willow and Xander were also there and the redhead’s face lit up when she saw Buffy.  Willow was so glad to see her that Buffy realized guiltily she had not been spending the time with her best friend that she would have if she were really sixteen.  Since she didn’t need Willow’s help with her schoolwork, and didn’t want either of her friends around when she patrolled, they were both wondering what was going on with their friend.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted them cheerily,  “I’m sorry I’ve been all self-absorbed, avoido-girl lately.  How about we make up for our missing buddy time by Bronzing it tonight?  We can show Kendra what Sunnydale has to offer.”

“Uh, Buffy? You sure you want to do that?” Xander snarked.  “Might drive her right back to Jamaica, or wherever.”

Buffy saw how Kendra had blushed and stammered every time Xander spoke to her and she determined to bring the sheltered Slayer some small measure of happiness while she was with them.  Once again, the inevitability of the things she was expected to just let happen sent her stomach into knots. 

(Let’s see – if I never sleep with Angel, he never loses his soul, so he doesn’t go back to Dru and Spike, so they don’t break up, so Dru has no reason to come looking for Kendra....but I want them to break up.  If she doesn’t hurt Spike by sleeping with Angel.....Gah! This is making my head hurt!”)

Telling Giles she needed him to give her some kind of decision by tomorrow, Buffy left with her friends, dragging a reluctant Kendra along to her house to get ready for their night out.

She introduced Kendra to her mother, glossing over the way Kendra came to be called, and hustled her upstairs to her room for major make-over time.  While Kendra was playing with the make up on Buffy’s dressing table, the Slayer was looking over her wardrobe and trying to find something that would be sexy without being slutty looking. 

She also dipped in to the new underwear she’d purchased to replace all the plain cotton panties in her drawer.  She hoped her mother would not freak out at the addition of a couple of thongs and some lacy bikinis to her boring underwear. 

She dressed in a matching set of black lace panties and a black lace push up bra under a low cut red blouse and black skirt.  Telling herself she was not dressing in Spike’s favorite colors for any reason other than lack of anything else to wear, she added a pair of black, sandals that showed off her tanned legs.

They hadn’t been in the Bronze long enough for their drinks to get warm when Buffy felt the tingles that warned of an approaching vampire of some power.  She tensed up, then relaxed when she recognized Angel’s signature.  She could tell from the disgruntled look on Xander’s face that Angel was approaching the table.  She could also see Kendra tensing up as she sensed the vampire’s approach, but the new Slayer managed to remain in her seat.  Buffy could see the girl was fighting every instinct that was screaming at her to defend herself.

She glared coldly at Angel, but refrained from trying to stake him, muttering to herself instead about how unnatural it was to socialize with a vampire.  Sensing a kindred spirit, Xander moved his chair closer to the grumbling Slayer and offered to keep her company.

Angel stood awkwardly for several minutes before touching Buffy’s shoulder and saying softly, “May I talk to you for a minute, Buffy?”

“Sure, Angel,” she said with a warm smile.  “Why don’t we dance while we talk?”

As they took the floor, she stood on her toes and reached her arms up around his neck.  As warm and familiar as he felt, she was very conscious of the size difference between them and the awkwardness of their dancing.

“Buffy,” he began.  “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know there is something.   You’re so...different, all of a sudden.  Have I made you mad somehow?”

She sighed and leaned into him.  “No, Angel, I’m not mad at you.  I just...I can’t tell you just yet.  Can you just trust me for a little while longer?”

“I would find that a lot easier to do if I thought you trusted me,” he said with almost a whine in his voice.  “You can tell me anything, Buffy. You know that.”  He looked at her mournfully.

(Yeah, right,) she thought. (I should tell you that if we sleep together next month Angelus will come back, That you’re going to kill Giles’ girlfriend to keep her from returning your soul. That I’m going to send you to a hell dimension to save the world from your insanity.  And that, years from now I’m going to be sleeping with Spike and I’ve come back to make that happen sooner. Oh yeah, that’ll go well.)

Instead, she looked at him with as much compassion as she could find in her heart and said softly, “I promise.  I’ll tell you as soon as Giles figures out that I can.”  (IF I can, that is.) she thought, mentally crossing her fingers.

Angel sat with them for a while, refusing, as usual, to drink or eat anything the humans did.  He and Buffy danced a few more times, and she allowed herself to enjoy his affection without feeling any trace of desire or passion for him.  It was obvious that what sixteen-year-old Buffy found mysterious and sexy, much older Buffy found uninteresting and attractive only in a very platonic way.

When his tentative nuzzling at Buffy’s ear and attempts to hold her pressed against him were not getting him any response, the vampire gave a sad sigh and said “good night” so that he could go home to brood.

Willow looked curiously at Buffy and whispered, “Why is Angel leaving so early?  Did you guys have a fight?”

Buffy could see that Willow was all prepared to be supportive and realized with a start of surprise that her relationship with Angel had required a lot of support from her friends.  At the time, the drama of “Does he love me?” “Do I love him?” had seemed very natural.  Now it just seemed silly.  She didn’t love him.  Not in the same way she loved Spike, and she had no intention of leading him on and letting him think they were going to have a relationship.

She smiled at Willow and just whispered back, “No, we’re fine.  I’m just not as interested in him romantically as I used to be.”

She shook her head at Willow’s shocked look and said, “I’ll be able to explain it soon.”

(I hope I will, anyway!)

When she once again felt the tell-tale tingle on her neck, she sighed in exasperation and looked around to see where Angel was lurking.  She saw Kendra stiffen beside her and as the other slayer also began to look around, Buffy suddenly recognized the signature as Spike’s.  She leapt to her feet and, pushing Kendra down into her chair with a “I’ll take care of this. You just stay here and have a good time,” she cast around until she figured out from which direction the signal was the strongest.

She moved through the crowded bar, searching for the source of the tingle and fighting down the less vampire-related tingles that were traveling from her neck down to her hardening nipples and suddenly aching crotch.  She stopped on the edge of the crowd, near the stairs, casting around for Spike and hoping Kendra would stay put.

When she felt his cool breath on her neck and his arms around her body, she leaned back into him and laughed softly when he twitched in surprise. Obviously he had expected her to be surprised and, if not frightened, at least startled.  She turned around in his arms and looked up at him from under her eye lashes.  Again, she had to remind herself that this was still an evil vampire and that he was probably here for a snack, not to see her.

“What are you doing here, Spike?” she demanded in her best Slayer voice, even as her hands were stroking the soft fabric of his tee shirt just above the waistband of his pants.  She felt rather than heard him hiss and he dropped his hands from her arms and backed away.

“I’m lookin’ for my dinner, Slayer.  What do you think I’m doin’?” he growled, adjusting himself in his jeans.

“You know I’m not going to let you kill anyone here tonight, don’t you?” she said, looking at him as coldly as she could while fighting the urge to push him back under the stairs and climb up his body.

“That right, pet?  And how do you propose to stop me?”

He cocked his head and gave her one of his best smirks.  Running his eyes appreciatively down her body, he continued, “You don’t look like you’re dressed for fightin’.  More like you’re trying to seduce some poor ponce.  What’s the matter? The great poof not gettin’ the message?”

“You’re a pig, Spike.”  It was so automatic, she didn’t even notice that it was the first time she’d said it in this time.

He just grinned and nodded.   “You have no idea, pet.”

“Actually, I do,” she smiled at him, her disgust forgotten as she got another chance to needle the cocky vampire. 

She was rewarded with flashing yellow eyes as he threw his arms up in the air and snarled, “Don’t start that ‘I know you’ shit again, Slayer.  I don’t want to hear it.”

“Really? You don’t?” She allowed a little touch of disbelief and hurt into her tone and he responded immediately.

“Not unless you’re going to explain it to me, I don’t,” he responded, dropping the snarl for a sulky tone. 

Buffy sighed and wondered how many times she was going to have to make this promise and to how many people before Giles decided it was safe for her come clean with her friends and lovers.

She couldn’t resist touching her finger gently to his pouting lower lip as she said,  “I promise, as soon as I think it’s safe, I’ll tell you as much as I can.”

Without thinking, the vampire pulled her finger into his mouth and bit down gently with his blunt human teeth.  When he reached to touch her lower lip, Buffy pulled his finger into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it while sucking gently.

“Bloody hell!” he groaned, pulling her back into the shadows of the stairway and wrapping his arms around her.  “What are you doing to me, Slayer?”

“Nothing you don’t want me to. I promise,” she whispered, burying her nose in his neck and inhaling the scent of whiskey, tobacco, leather and Spike.  “What do you want me to do?”

Her warm breath on his neck was making his jeans very uncomfortable and her scent was filing his senses as he responded in spite of himself. 

“Want you to touch me, Slayer.  Just touch me.”  He trembled with the effort it took not to sink his fangs into her soft skin and taste again the elixir that was her blood. He didn’t know why this Slayer seemed to be trying to kill him with sexual frustration, but he was past the point of caring.  All he could think about was feeling her incredible heat on his cool skin.

Instead of pulling away and calling him a pig again, as he fully expected, she slid her hand down and cupped the bulge he couldn’t hide. He hissed when he felt her hand on him, and groaned when she squeezed gently.

When she began to rub and squeeze him the way she knew he wanted, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering desperate encouragement in her ear.

“Ah, that’s it, luv.  Feels so good.  Wonderful little hands you have, Slayer.  Want you to—bloody, buggering fuck!” 

Buffy had used her other hand to pull down his zipper and suddenly his bare cock was enveloped in her hot hands and she was stroking him to the accompaniment of his rasping breaths.  It had been a couple of years, but she remembered exactly what it took to bring him to a shuddering release.  She ran her thumb over the weeping head of his cock and spread the pre-cum down the side so that her hand would slide more easily.

The vampire was gripping the side of the stairway over her head, his long leather coat hiding them from casual view.  When Buffy felt his hips beginning to thrust into her hands, she couldn’t resist reaching up to fasten her lips on his as, with a strangled cry, he came in her hands.  While Spike pumped the last of his spendings into Buffy’s hands he allowed himself to enjoy the feel of her warm, supple lips on his.  This kiss was very different from the rough, violent one they’d shared when he was in vamp face.

This time, she was free to run her tongue around the inside of his lips, lightly over his teeth and to pull his tongue into her mouth to suck on it.  He could feel himself becoming hard again as the Slayer moaned against his mouth and pressed up against him, murmuring his name.

Suddenly she pulled back and put one hand to her mouth in shock.

“Oh, oh, God, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to...”  Her eyes darted around the space frantically, and she tried to tuck his newly hard cock back into his pants.  “I just meant to...I’m sorry, Spike.” 

The more she pushed on him, the larger and harder he became and he finally grabbed her hands and said gruffly, “If you’re trying to put it away, pet, you’re gonna have to keep those hot little hands off it.” 

Blushing furiously, she started apologizing again until he stopped her with a surprisingly gentle hand on her lips.

“Don’t know what the hell you’re apologizing for, Slayer.  That was the best hand job I’ve ever had in my un-life.  It’s like you knew every...Fuck! “ he stopped and glared at her.  His tone changed entirely and she was suddenly very aware that she was standing in the dark with a master vampire and no stake hidden in her skimpy clothes.

He gripped her arms so hard she knew she was going to have bruises the next day and he ground out between his teeth, “I want to know what the hell is going on. Now.”

Buffy shook her head, whether at herself for giving in to the urge to be with him in some way or in answer to his demand she wasn’t sure.  She was pretty sure this vampire didn’t care how much she used his body for sex, but the feeling of taking something he hadn’t agreed to give her was too familiar for her to feel good about what she’d done.

She’d only intended to get close enough to keep her scent on him and remind him she existed.  She studied his face as well as she could in the dim light to see if he was disgusted with her behavior, but all she saw was anger and confusion.

“I...I’m sorry,” she repeated again, still shaking her head.  She brought her eyes up to meet his.  “You must think I’m the worst ho, ever.”

“Got to admit, it’s not what I expect of the virtuous Chosen One,” he agreed wryly.  “But something’s going on here.  Something between us.  And you know what it is.  You DO know me, Slayer. And I want to know how.”

“To...tomorrow night.  I promise.  I’ll tell you tomorrow night.  No matter what Giles says.”

“I promise,” she added when he didn’t release her arms immediately.

Instead of responding, he loosened his grip and began rubbing her arms lightly as though to sooth the marks left from his fingers.  When he realized what he was doing, he snatched his hands away and shoved them into his pockets.  He stared into her liquid green eyes for a long minute, then nodded abruptly and left in a swirl of black leather.
 

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