Chapter 1:

"Go ahead," William 'Spike' Devereaux instructed, his English accent more pronounced than usual. The caller ID told him that this was a call he shouldn't be taking. Though he'd retired from the FBI two years earlier, he kept getting pulled back in as a "consultant." He stared at the clock and lit a cigarette. Three in the morning. At least they let me get some sleep this time.

"Got a murder case you might be interested in," Jack Bevlin began without preamble. He was the Special Agent in charge of the FBI's Baltimore field office and Spike's former boss. "Man walks into a businessman's house, gives the youngest daughter five dollars to get lost. Sits down with the husband and wife and has a cup of coffee. Shoots the couple in the head, execution style. Has himself another cup of coffee. Waits around for the daughter to get back and shoots her, too. Then he writes the oldest daughter a note and sticks it on the refrigerator along with a note for the middle daughter telling her not to go in the living room when she gets home from school."

"Sounds like the plot from a bad cop movie, or like one cocky killer." Spike's interest was piqued. These were the kinds of cases he loved, with guys who took the time to plan out their murders. He relished the chase, the deep involvement required, and the look on the S.O.B.'s face when he got caught.

"I'm afraid it's not a movie. That's why I called you. I've got -," Jack started.

"Retired, remember? Find someone else to do your dirty work. Good night." Spike started to hang up. Jack loved to tease him with a doozie of a case like this one, and then make it damn near impossible for him to walk away when it was over.

"Wait, Spike, let me finish. The big man himself wants you in on this one. It's a very touchy case. That note I told you about? In it he directly threatens two agents and the director."

Spike sighed and ran a hand through his curly bleached hair. "Let me guess, I was one of them. Bloody hell, Jack, are you going to call me every time I get a fan letter?" He was used to the death threats. They were part of the job, mostly just empty words.

"This is more than just a fan letter. Three people are dead and you're on this guy's list. Just get your ass down here." Jack hung up without giving Spike a chance to say no.

"Bugger." Spike glared at the phone before using a dying plant as an ashtray. He pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt. After tying his boots, he grabbed his black leather duster, keys, and wallet, and headed out. Fifteen minutes later, he was at the Baltimore office. After checking in with security, he found his way to Jack's office.

Jack stood up and shook the younger man's hand. "Glad you made it so quickly. Coffee?"

Spike gratefully accepted the hot mug and followed Jack into a smaller room. "This is the victim's oldest daughter. The younger one has been hospitalized and sedated. She was the one to find the bodies. The doctor said we could speak with her tomorrow. We've got the room heavily guarded," Jack said as he opened the door, ushering Spike inside.

Jack leaned against the closed door and let his former Assistant Special Agent in Charge take control. Spike almost dropped his coffee when he saw the petite blonde curled up in a plastic chair. A thin dark blanket was wrapped around her body. Her head lifted slightly and her eyes widened in recognition. Quickly regaining his composure, Spike set the mug on the small table in the middle of the room and sat in the chair across from the woman.

"Hello Slayer," he greeted, reaching for one of her small hands, still not completely over the shock. Buffy Summers, his ex-partner and ex-best friend, was the victims' daughter. This explained why Jack was so adamant that he work on this one.

"Hey Spike," she whispered, her voice hoarse and strained. "I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can convince Jack to let me go home and change clothes before I get to work. I have a ton of paperwork piled up on my desk."

"I gave it to Henderson. He'll get it all straightened out for you," Jack spoke up. Ever since she'd been brought to the office all she talked about was her paperwork, using work as a coping mechanism. He knew she needed to move past the denial if she was going to be of any help to them.

"Henderson? The one who broke the copy machine four times in the same day? No thank you, I'll do my own paperwork." Buffy's voice was a little stronger.

Spike squeezed her hand and lifted her chin so she was looking in his eyes. "Don't worry about the bureaucratic bullshit, luv. Right now you and I are going to concentrate on catching the asshole that hurt your family." Although she could not officially be assigned to the case, Spike knew she'd be given enough time off to unofficially participate.

"Hurt my family? The bastard didn't hurt my family, he ripped it apart. I can't believe he had the balls to do what he did. He bought my sister ice cream, had coffee with Mom and Dad and then killed them all," she ranted, her voice breaking a little. "He took the time to write me a note and warn Dawn not to go into the living room. God, he knows that Dawn exists. I can't just leave her in the hospital. What if he tries to kill her there?" Buffy stood up and headed for the door, her eyes bright with tears.

Spike put his hands on her shoulders and forced her back into the chair. "Slow down, Slayer. There are guards posted outside your sister's room. No one is going to hurt her," he promised. "Let's start with this evening. Were you the first one home?"

Buffy shook her head, blonde hair covering her face. After that burst of adrenaline, she was starting to feel numb again. "I was supposed to pick Dawn up from school, but I was trying to get a few reports done and I lost track of time. By the time I left, traffic to Annapolis was hell, so she caught a ride with her friend Janice. Damn, if I had just forgotten about the stupid reports, I could have stopped her. She shouldn't have walked in there by herself," Buffy spoke slowly, her voice full of self-loathing and blame.

"It's not your fault, Buffy. You couldn't have known. You can't protect your family every minute of the day," Spike consoled, patting her back awkwardly. In all their years of working together, he'd never seen this side of her. She seemed so. defeated.

"It's my job to protect people, Spike. How can I keep the rest of the country safe when I can't even stop my own family from being murdered?" she demanded. "I read the note, it is my fault. He used them to hurt me, and it worked."

"Okay, the note, good, focus on that. What did it say?" Spike switched tactics. He hoped that the professional side of Buffy would take over soon so that they could make some real progress. So that he wouldn't have to see her so lost, so unlike the woman he knew.

"He said that I ruined his life and now he was going to ruin mine. He said I should keep Dawn out of the living room. He told me that I was going to watch Dawn die and that no matter where I hid or how many bodyguards I hired, he was going to kill me. He ranted about the FBI and then he said that he was going to kill my partner and my "jackass of a boss". At the bottom he left the number of a good carpet cleaner," she summarized in a detached voice.

"Don't worry luv, we'll keep Dawn safe. We'll send her away," Spike vowed. He'd spent a lot of time with Dawn and saw her as his own sister. The thought of someone hurting her made him see red.

"Where? I have no family left. I'm all Dawn's got," Buffy reminded him sadly.

"She could stay with my Mum and Da in London. They adore Bit and I know they'll keep her safe," Spike suggested.

"Great idea. If she's out of the country for a while he may switch his attention off of her," Jack spoke up.

Buffy looked at the two men and sighed heavily. "As long as you can promise me that Dawn will be safe, we can send her to London," she agreed.

"Now that we've settled the matter of Dawn's safety, let's talk about you, young lady," Jack proposed as he moved away from the wall to stand beside two of his best agents.

"I don't need any special treatment. I don't want anyone following me around, starting my car for me, or tasting my food before I eat it. I can take care of myself," Buffy insisted.

Spike let go of her hands and pulled out a cigarette, blatantly ignoring the "No Smoking" sign on the wall. "And what's Dawn going to do when she has absolutely no family left, you stupid chit?"

"Are you doubting my abilities now, is that what this is about? You think I'm a bad agent?" Buffy stood up and glowered at her ex-partner.

"When you get emotional, you get sloppy. You don't think clearly." Spike kicked his chair back, ready for a fight. The verbal sparring was what he'd missed most about Buffy. Only she could get his blood boiling this way.

"I don't think clearly? You're the one who was more interested in getting Drusilla in your bed and not a jail cell. At least I let my brain do the thinking, not my.," Buffy retorted.

Before Buffy could finish her sentence, Jack stepped between the two blondes. "Spike, I'm putting you in charge of Buffy's protection. Everywhere she goes, you go," he settled the issue. "Buffy, since your house is a crime scene, you are to stay with Spike. His place is your new safe house."

Buffy and Spike turned to look at Jack, their jaws dropping in disbelief.

"What!?!"




Chapter Two


 

Note: I just want to say thanks to my wonderful beta (who I have missed oh so much lately) Shiveta. She always understands what I want to say and helps when I confuse even myself. Thank you!
 

“I hate hospitals,” Spike muttered under his breath, leaning against a wall and shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced over at the blonde standing in front of the nurses’ station. Her foot was rapidly tapping on the floor and her arms were crossed over her chest. He recognized that position: Buffy the Bitch was about to make an appearance.

“I already signed the admittance forms and filled out the insurance papers. No, I don’t want to speak with her doctor. I just want to see my sister. Her name is Summers. S-U-M-M-E-R-S, Dawn,” she insisted, her eyes shooting daggers at the woman behind the desk.

“Ma’am, if you’ll just be patient for a minute and stop this overreacting—” the nurse spoke slowly.

“Overreacting? Overreacting!? Lady, I’ll show you overreacting,” she raged, attempting to climb over the desk to throttle the nurse.

Spike pushed away from the wall with a sigh and joined Buffy at the desk. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and flashed the nurse a sexy smile. “Excuse my wife, she’s had a difficult night. We just want to check in on her sister. Name’s Dawn Summers.”

The nurse smiled shyly and typed the name into her computer. “Second floor, room 256,” she responded, keeping her eyes averted.

“Thanks, luv,” Spike winked and led Buffy away from the desk.

When they were in the elevator, she shook off his arm and shoved him across the small space. “Did you have to do that?”

“With the way you were acting, we would have been tossed out by security,” he said, exasperated. The pair strode into the hallway as soon as the doors opened. The two uniformed guards standing in front of the door easily identified room 256. With a quick flash of their credentials, Buffy and Spike were lead into the room. Although technically not an agent, Spike was still a card-carrying member of the FBI. He’d insisted upon it when he agreed to work as a consultant. It was hard to get the information you needed without ID to back you up.

Buffy hesitantly walked toward her sister, wary of the IV pole and various machines surrounding her. Perching delicately on the edge of the bed, she reached forward and brushed back a lock of Dawn’s dark brown hair.

She stirred at the touch. Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned softly. “Buffy?”

“How are you feeling, Dawnie?” Buffy asked soothingly, continuing to stroke the younger girl’s hair. She wished she could erase Dawn’s memories of the past few hours. No sixteen-year-old girl should have to come home from school and discover that her family had been murdered.

“Drugged,” Dawn replied, licking her dry lips and swallowing a few times. Fat tears welled up in her eyes and her lip began to tremble. “They’re gone Buffy. Mom, Dad, and Celia are gone.” br>
Buffy gently lifted her sister into a sitting position and held her. “I know, sweetie, I know,” she murmured, letting Dawn cry on her chest. She slowly rocked back and forth, whispering comforting words in Dawn’s ear as the younger girl wept.

After several minutes, Dawn’s sobs subsided. She settled back against the pillows and noticed the man standing behind Buffy.

“Spike, what are you doing here?” she asked hoarsely, her voice still thick with tears.

“Keeping big sis from brawling with the nurses,” Spike quipped, moving to the other side of the bed. He picked up one of her hands and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Are you here to take me home?” Dawn asked hopefully.

Buffy shook her head and turned to look Dawn in the eyes. “They don’t want anyone going back to the house for a while. Besides, I don’t think that’s a good idea for either of us right now.”

“I guess I could stay with Janice,” Dawn suggested.

“Actually, Bit, we had planned on letting you stay with my parents,” Spike said cautiously, smiling in relief when Dawn’s eyes brightened.

“You mean I get to go to England?” She looked to Buffy for confirmation.

“Only if you want to.” Buffy didn’t want Dawn to feel like she was sending her away. “We think it would be best if you stay with Spike’s family for a couple of weeks. We need to catch this guy, but I want to be sure that you’re safe.”

“Are you coming with me?” Dawn’s eyes drifted closed. Her crying bout had sapped a good deal of her strength and she was still under the effects of the drugs they’d given her.

“No, sweetie, I’m not. I need to stay here and make sure this guy pays for what he did to our family,” Buffy answered. She leaned forward and kissed Dawn on the forehead. “Why don’t you go back to sleep. I’ll come back later in the morning to check you out of here. Spike and I are going to go by the house and pack your bags.”

“Okay. Good night, Buffy,” Dawn whispered.

Buffy watched her sister with an unreadable expression for a moment before leaving the room. She wanted to get Dawn’s prescription from her doctor before she left.

As Spike was walking towards the door, Dawn reached out and grabbed his hand. “I know Buffy,” Dawn said solemnly. “She’ll work herself to exhaustion trying to figure this out, or she’ll do something stupid like sacrifice herself to save me.” She stared at Spike beseechingly, willing him to understand what she was trying to say. “Tell her not to worry about me too much. It hurts, Spike, but I’ll be all right. I have to be. Take care of her. I can’t lose Buffy, too,” she implored.

“Don’t worry, Bit. I’ll watch out for her. You get some rest now,” he assured her. Once Dawn’s eyes were closed again, he joined Buffy in the hallway.

“Thanks, Dr. Powell. I’ll call you if I need anything else,” the petite blonde said. Buffy’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve got some sedatives for Dawn in case she has any panic attacks or nightmares,” she informed Spike, flashing two small pieces of paper at him.

“We can get those filled when we come back later. Let’s go back to my house before we pick up Dawn’s things,” Spike offered as they entered the elevator.

”Can’t sleep. I have too much to do before Dawn leaves. Let’s go get her stuff and get it over with,” Buffy said decisively as she followed Spike out of the hospital and into his SUV.

The ride to Buffy’s house was silent. Spike parked in the street and shut the vehicle off. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

Buffy took a deep breath and opened the door. “I’ll never be ready, but I have no choice,” she responded determinedly.

He held up the yellow crime scene tape for Buffy to walk under. There were a few investigators lingering around the house searching for evidence. Spike spoke to one of the officers and they were ushered inside. Buffy avoided the living room and led the way upstairs. Dawn’s room was the second one on the left. Spike watched as she took two suitcases from the closet and filled them with clothes, shoes, and various other items a sixteen year old would need.

“Cold or warm?” she turned to Spike, a blue sweater in her hands.

“What, luv?” Spike was startled out of his thoughts by her question. He’d been occupied with thinking up ways to protect his short-tempered ex-partner without stepping on her toes.

“Will it be cold or warm in London?” she repeated slowly, enunciating every syllable.

“Chilly. Pack the sweater just to be safe,” Spike answered with a smile.

Buffy nodded and folded the sweater. She made a trip to the bathroom and returned with a brightly colored toiletries bag. She zipped up the suitcases and set them by the door. Spike had one of the officers carry the luggage to his car. A backpack was filled with Dawn’s portable CD player, several CDs, a stack of paperback books and her diary. After taking one last look around, Buffy turned off the light and shut the door.

“I just need to get a few things for myself and then we can get out of here,” Buffy called as she moved on to her room. Spike lingered just outside the door, unwilling to invade her personal space.

“Oh come on in, you big baby,” Buffy invited. A duffel bag was tossed on the bed, followed by several pairs of jeans and shirts. Spike turned away when she began stuffing underwear into the bag. Buffy stood in front of her closet, chewing on her lower lip. She abruptly spun on her heel and went into another bedroom.

When she didn’t return for several minutes, Spike went searching for her. Pushing open what looked to be the master bedroom door, he found his charge sitting despondently on the edge of the bed, a red shirt in her hands.

“What’s wrong, luv?” Spike spoke softly, kneeling in front of the blonde.

“Mom… she always borrowed this shirt from me. I tried to give it to her, but she said it looked better on me. Red’s her favorite color,” Buffy’s voice broke as tears coursed down her cheeks. “It stills smells like her.”

Spike pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her slight form. He wanted to say something – anything – but he couldn’t talk through the lump in his throat.

“I miss her, and she’s never coming back,” Buffy wept, resting her head on Spike’s shoulder and clutching his arm. “Why? Why would he want to hurt them?”

“I don’t know, pet, but we’re going to find this bastard and we’re going to make sure he gets what he deserves,” Spike vowed, rubbing her back in a circular motion. They stayed that way until Buffy’s wrenching sobs died down to soft hiccups.

She reluctantly moved away from Spike and reached into her pocket for a tissue. After blowing her nose and wiping her eyes, she stood up with the shirt still in her hand. “God, you must think I’m weak,” she laughed harshly.

“Never. I think you’re one of the strongest women I know. It’s okay to grieve and it’s okay to miss them,” Spike corrected. Standing in this bedroom was not the tough, often bitchy, woman he’d worked with for three years. She looked more like a lost little girl than the brilliant FBI agent he knew. He was pleased that she felt comfortable enough with him to let down her defenses.

They made their way back to Buffy’s room so she could finish packing. Spike carried her duffel to the car while Buffy collected a few personal things. She met Spike in the street, a laptop case and backpack slung over her shoulder. He was leaning against the SUV talking on his cell phone.

“Yes, Dad, it’s just the Bit. Slayer’s going to stay here with me and work this out,” Spike responded to something his father had said.

“Thanks for taking her in. I’ll call you later with the details,” Spike hung up and put the phone in a pocket in his duster. “Dad says having Dawn over is no problem. Mum’s looking forward to having another girl around for a while,” he relayed as she approached. He held open her door as Buffy climbed in the car and shut it once she was in the seat.

“Good. We can go back to the office and make Dawn’s travel arrangements,” Buffy nodded, grateful that Spike’s parents were so willing to watch over her sister. “I wish I could go with her. She shouldn’t be alone right now. I don’t know how she’s going to going to handle this,” she said fretfully, worried about her what her kid sister would do once the trauma really set in. br>
Remembering Dawn’s last words, the corners of Spike’s lips curled into a smile. “I think the Bit’s stronger than we give her credit for. She’ll come through this just fine.”





Chapter 3:

As soon as Buffy and Spike entered the field office, they were immediately instructed to join Jack in one of the conference rooms. Buffy clung to Spike's hand tightly, afraid that something else had happened to Dawn. In the space of several hours he'd gone from ex-sparring buddy to her only lifeline.

Spike looked down at Buffy and pulled her closer. "Don't worry, luv. I'm sure it's just a run-of-the-mill meeting. Dawn's fine."

Buffy nodded, still unconvinced. If someone had gotten to her sister, her only family left, she'd never forgive herself. Upon entering the room and seeing that Jack wasn't the room's only occupant, she let out a sigh of relief, knowing it was, in fact, an ordinary meeting. He would talk to her privately if anything happened to Dawn, not in front of an audience like this.

Jack stared pointedly at their joined hands until Spike released himself from Buffy's grip. He shrugged out of his duster and took a seat next to Jack. Buffy sat across from Spike between fellow agents Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris. She recognized everyone in the room as someone she'd worked with at one time or another.

"I'm sure all of you have heard about yesterday's tragedy, but I'm going to go over the basic facts briefly so we're all on the same page. Yesterday around noon, a man entered the Summers residence and gave Celia Summers, age 7, a five-dollar bill to buy ice cream from the ice cream truck. He then sat in the living room and had coffee with Hank and Joyce Summers, ages 51 and 48. Once he finished his cup of coffee, he shot and killed Mr. and Mrs. Summers. He had another cup of coffee while waiting for Celia to return. After killing Celia, he wrote two notes, one to Buffy Summers, age 27, and one to Dawn Summers, age 16. The first note directly threatens three established FBI agents as well as Dawn," Jack summarized. He paused as the agents turned to Buffy and whispered their condolences.

"I want to catch this guy," Willow spoke up. The redhead was the Baltimore office's resident computer genius. She had worked with Buffy on several different occasions and genuinely liked the other woman.

"That's why I called all of you in here. I have been instructed to put a team of my best agents on this case. You will be responsible for arresting the murderer before he can follow through on his threats," Jack responded. He'd purposely picked agents that had been associated with Buffy. Their personal connection would undoubtedly motivate them to do their very best on the case.

"What about Buffy and Dawn's safety?" Xander asked. He'd met the younger Summers a couple of times while working with Buffy. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt the pretty teen.

"Dawn is being sent out of the country to stay with friends. I have put Spike in charge of Buffy's protection," Jack said, glancing at Spike for confirmation that Dawn was still going to London. He thought it best that only a select few people knew whom she was staying with. At Spike's nearly imperceptible nod, Jack continued, "Buffy and Spike are both available to help you in any way possible. Willow, I want daily progress reports. The director's taking a personal interest in this one, so let's get it wrapped up quickly people."

Leaving the rest to start discussing ideas, Jack made his way to the door. Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. "Do you have a secure line I can use? I need to make Dawn's flight arrangements," she requested in hushed tones.

Jack let her use the phone in his office to call the airline. His office was only accessed by a limited number of people and his phone was routinely checked for bugs and wiretaps. Fifteen minutes later, Buffy returned to the conference room, a piece of notebook paper in her hands. Spike was talking to Xander and Tara Maclay, a shy, soft-spoken, but quick-witted agent. When there was a break in the conversation, she whispered something in Spike's ear and slipped the paper into his pocket. Willow and Anya Jenkins joined the group, listening to Xander's theory.

"It's obvious that this is someone Buffy and Spike caught. He spent years in prison thinking of ways to exact his revenge. As soon as he gets out, he watches the two of them constantly, searching for a weakness. Everyone knows how close Buffy is with her family, so voila! He figures Buffy will be easy to pick off because she'll be so blinded by grief that she can't defend herself. If he's lucky, she'll go running to Spike for help and he'll be able to get them both at once," Xander explained excitedly.

"I'll check the prison records to see who's been released lately. Maybe it'll help if I narrow the list down some. Is there anyone either of you can think of that was particularly threatening?" Willow pulled out a notebook.

Buffy and Spike shook their heads. It was common for criminals to make threats at their trials. Agents learned not to take them too seriously.

"Well, that's okay. There can't be more than forty, right?" Willow smiled hopefully. Her smile slipped when Spike wrote down a number and passed it to her. "This is going to take forever," she groaned. She moved to the computer and began pulling up the records.

Xander, Anya and Tara worked on the psychological profile while Buffy and Spike went to pick up Dawn. Buffy was glad to be away from the office. It hurt to hear the others referring to her mother as victim 2 and her baby sister as victim 3. She'd almost lost it when Anya started talking about the bodies. "Bodies, those aren't just bodies! They're my family! They had names, they had lives, they had a future!" she wanted to rage.

They made a quick stop at the pharmacy to fill Dawn's prescription. When she presented two prescriptions for the same sedative, the pharmacist looked slightly concerned until he noticed that the patient names were different. Buffy was thankful that Dawn's considerate doctor had written up a prescription for each sister. After paying for the prescriptions, she shoved both bottles in her purse.

"I should bring her a change of clothes and let her take a shower. Don't want to let your parents meet Stinky Dawn." After Spike parked in the hospital lot, Buffy rifled through one of Dawn's suitcase and took out a few pieces of clothing. She took one of the prescription bottles from her purse and tucked it in a corner of the suitcase.

Spike stayed outside while Buffy checked Dawn out of the hospital, wanting to give the girls some time alone. Plus, he needed to give his father the flight information. He answered a few questions and gave an overview of what had happened. He felt fortunate to have parents that had been in his line of work. They would help him in any way they could and ask questions later. He was just finishing the call when Buffy and Dawn emerged from the hospital.

"Hey Nibblet. How are you feeling?" Spike helped the teen into the back seat of the SUV. He reached across to secure her seat belt and took the opportunity to take in her bloodshot eyes, red nose and puffy face.

"Everything's kinda fuzzy," Dawn whispered, her voice scratchy and barely audible. "Nervous," she added.

"Don't be nervous. Mum and Dad are great. They'll love you to bits." Spike patted her leg reassuringly. He shut the door and joined Buffy in the front seat.

Buffy twisted in her seat to face her sister. "Giles and Olivia are wonderful people, Dawnie. Giles is sorta what James Bond would be like if he was librarian. Olivia's an artist and her sculptures are amazing," she gushed.

"Giles and Olivia Devereaux. They sound like nice people," Dawn nodded. She'd always been wary of strangers, but wasn't too worried about meeting Spike's parents. After all, they were Spike's parents.

"Rupert and Olivia Giles, pet. I changed my last name when I joined the Bureau," Spike corrected. He glanced over at Buffy and saw the regret in her eyes. He knew she was thinking that if she'd only taken the same precautions he had, this wouldn't have happened.

Before he could say anything to comfort her, Dawn unbuckled her seatbelt and wrapped her arms around her sister. "It's not your fault, Buff. Mom and Dad wanted you to do what you love," she said, fresh tears falling from her blue eyes.

"I know, Dawnie, but I never thought any of this would happen. I wish he had come after me first. He should have come after me," Buffy swallowed her tears as she hugged Dawn tighter.

Spike let them stay that way for a few moments before clearing his throat. "Back in the belt, Bit. Don't want you to spend your trip in a wheelchair," he instructed gently.

Dawn dutifully sat back in her seat and re-buckled the seat belt. She and Buffy chatted about London for the rest of the ride to the airport. Spike smiled to himself at the sisterly banter. He had been right in his assessment of Dawn: she was a bitty Buffy.

The trio walked into the airport together. Buffy and Dawn walked arm in arm while Spike was relegated to pack-mule. After checking Dawn's luggage and getting her ticket, they sat at a table outside one of the mini restaurants. The two agents had used their badges to gain access to the "passengers only" section. Dawn sat in Buffy's lap, her head resting on the blonde's shoulder.

"I'll call you as often as I can," Buffy promised. "If you need anything, Giles has a list of emergency numbers. I packed your sedatives. Take them if you start to feel panicky or you can't sleep, but be careful about how much and how often you use them. I put some money in your suitcase for emergencies or quick getaways. Don't talk to anyone except Giles and Olivia."

"Enough with the ramblings. I'll be okay," Dawn interrupted, putting her hand over Buffy's mouth. She loved her sister dearly, but Buffy still treated her like a kid. Dawn feared that when she was an old woman with grandchildren she would still be dealing with Overprotective Buffy.

Buffy offered a watery smile from behind Dawn's hand and smoothed back Dawn's dark hair. "I know, sweetie, I'm sorry. I just worry," she apologized, her voice muffled.

Dawn removed her hand from Buffy's mouth and settled back in her sister's lap. "Tell me more about your mom and dad, Spike," Dawn changed the subject.

Spike related tales of his childhood and of growing up in the Giles house. He elaborated on a few to get a smile out of the girls. They listened to him talk until boarding for Dawn's flight was announced.

Dawn stood up and fidgeted nervously. Buffy pulled her into a hug, standing on her toes to kiss Dawn on the cheek. "I will always love you, Dawnie, and I will do anything to keep you safe," she vowed fiercely.

The younger girl nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I love you too." She turned to Spike, who was holding his arms out. She gratefully rushed into them and hid her face in his t-shirt. "Thank you," she mumbled.

"Take care of yourself, Bit. Tell Dad and Mum I said hi," he released the girl and stepped closer to Buffy. The two of them watched sadly as Dawn disappeared from view. Spike silently took Buffy's arm and led her out of the airport. She allowed him to assist her into the car and buckle her seatbelt like he'd done for Dawn. Before they were out of the parking lot, her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and even.

Spike let her sleep the entire way to his house. They both needed a few hours of sleep before they resumed working on the case. After pulling into the driveway, he reached out and shook Buffy's arm. "Wake up, Slayer."

Buffy smiled groggily and attempted to sit up. Once fully upright, she blinked a few times and shook her head. She stared at Spike for a moment and turned away, searching for the door handle.

"What's wrong?" Spike could tell that something had deeply upset his friend. This went beyond just keeping another agent safe or trying to catch a murderer. If Buffy was hurting, he wanted to make it better for her. He needed to help in any way possible.

"When I woke up I thought for a moment that this had all been a nightmare, that my family was still alive and Dawn was at school," she said slowly, turning to face him. "I looked over, saw you, and realized that it really did happen. It was like for one second it didn't hurt, and then this huge wave of pain crashed down on me. I thought I was drowning and. just for a second, I wished I was dead."
Chapter Four:
 

Willow set down her cold coffee and picked up a thick stack of papers. “You’ve dismissed forty of sixty possible suspects. We’re running out of people,” she complained, not caring that she sounded like a whiny child. She and Buffy had been at this for six hours straight, and Buffy had yet to put any suspects in the “potential” category.

Buffy looked down at the reports in her hand and shrugged her shoulders. She wrote a big red “NO” on the top one, then handed it to Willow, who held the “rejected” suspects. “None of them feels right. They’re either too stupid, not interested, on the other side of the country, or trying to walk the straight and narrow.”

After three days of watching Buffy spend every waking minute at the office, Spike had suggested moving the investigation control center to his house. Jack immediately agreed, foolishly hoping that this would give the blonde agent a chance to rest. Willow and Buffy had transformed Spike’s study into the main office. Willow was able to access the FBI’s files through her laptop.

Rather than have the four agents driving back and forth from their houses, Spike insisted they stay with him. Xander claimed a spare bedroom for himself, leaving Willow to bunk with Buffy and Anya to share a room with Tara. Not only did it make it easier on the team, it provided additional security for Buffy. The murderer hadn’t made another appearance, but no one was willing to taking any chances.

“Why isn’t Dru’s name in here?” Buffy inquired, flipping through the pages. She had been going through her and Spike’s old cases for two days. Each one had brought back a different memory, most of them not so pleasant. However upsetting the memories, they were still better than dealing with the pain she was trying to ignore. Olivia reported that Dawn wasn’t faring so well in London. She spent most of her waking hours in a daze and relied on the sedatives to get her through the night. Buffy was somewhat envious of her sister. Dawn was allowed time to grieve, but the elder Summers was expected to be the “strong” one. She wished she could be the younger child for once, allowed to break down and not be the self-assured one. She just wanted this to be over, wake up from this nightmare that had become her life.

“Dru? I don’t remember seeing a Dru anywhere in the logs,” Willow’s voice brought Buffy out of her thoughts. Willow reached for her laptop and quickly logged on to the network. By now she figured she had Buffy and Spike’s history memorized, but she didn’t recall the name Dru.

“Drusilla Moore - murder and kidnapping. Her lawyer claimed she wasn’t stable enough to handle a trial so she was sent to an institution. By the time the doctors said she was ready to go to court, most of the evidence turned up missing. She was released about a year ago,” Buffy summarized, desperately hoping that would be the end of the conversation. She mentally kicked herself for even mentioning the other woman.

“Dru? Will, how could you not know about the Dru Moore case?” Xander jumped over the edge of the couch and plopped down between Willow and Buffy. Her heart sank. Here we go, she thought bitterly. “Before that woman came on to the scene, the Buffster here and Spike were the hottest duo in Maryland. They’d been working together since Quantico. They’d solve cases that no one else would touch and made it look easy. Hell, it was even rumored they were using telepathy,” he gushed excitedly.

“What happened?” Willow was drawn in by the story. She had spent most of her early career at Quantico and was relatively new to the Baltimore office. By the time she’d arrived on the scene, Spike had already retired and Buffy was working with Xander. She’d heard a few rumors about Buffy and Spike, but had dismissed them as run-of-the-mill office gossip. Whenever she’d worked with Buffy, the blonde hadn’t mentioned her ex-partner or any of their cases.

“Drusilla, the dark princess. Spike took one look at her and fell hard and fast,” Xander began, shaking his head. He still didn’t quite understand the other man’s attraction to Dru. He’d take a blonde beauty like Buffy or Anya any time.

“So she was attractive?” Willow interrupted, trying to get a picture in her head.

Buffy let out an unladylike snort and rolled her eyes. “Oh sure, she was gorgeous, if you go for that ‘I’m a British goth slut’ look.”

“That sounds like Dru,” Anya interjected as she walked in from the kitchen. “Although I think she was going for the “I’m an insane British goth whore serial killer’ look instead.”

Anya perched on edge of the loveseat next to Tara, who had been quietly listening to the conversation. The bowl of popcorn Anya had been carrying was quickly passed around and returned.

“You’ve heard of Dru? Am I the only one in the dark here?” Willow pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

The others looked around and nodded. Willow turned her head and focused on Tara. “You, too?” Tara had been transferred to the Baltimore office seven months before Willow.

Tara nodded and reached across to pat the redhead’s knee. “Sorry, sweetie, I was brought in to help Buffy arrest Drusilla,” she apologized.

“Wait a minute, you and Buffy arrested Dru? What happened to Spike?” Willow was confused. She glanced over at Buffy, but the other agent was staring at the ceiling.

“I was trying to get there before everyone started interrupting me!” Xander exclaimed, exasperated. Once everyone was quiet and facing him again, he continued. “Spike fell hard and fast. He’s so blinded by his black beauty, that he starts to forget she’s killer. He starts thinking that maybe she didn’t do it and drags his feet. Meanwhile, another man turns up missing and Buffy busts her ass trying to find Dru. Once Buffy gets a fix on her location, Spike steps in and orders Buff to stand down. As independent as always, she tells him to go to hell, this is her case and she’s not going to let another man die.”

“He ends up following her to Dru’s hideout,” Anya jumped in, eyes bright and hands gesturing wildly. “Dru’s got a gun and a hostage and she’s not going to go down without a fight. Buffy gets off a one in a million shot and nails Dru in the shoulder. She drops her gun and the hostage gets free. Buffy moves to tackle her and Dru whips out a wicked looking knife. The two are locked in hand to hand and Spike just stands there watching. Dru gets Buffy in the thigh and races out. Buffy has to call for back up on her radio because Spike’s too enthralled by Dru…”

“Anya and I got there first and found Buffy still on the floor in a pool of blood, Spike’s staring at the door and the hostage is trying to get out of his ropes. It was almost like a bad cartoon,” Xander added.

Buffy shifted awkwardly on the couch when Willow put an arm around her shoulders. “I bet you were pretty pissed off.”

“Are you kidding? We followed the ambulance to the hospital and we could hear her yelling at him the entire way there. The nurse had to sedate her just so she wouldn’t disturb the other patients,” Xander couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of a hospital gown-clad Buffy screaming at Spike.

“Twenty-one stitches later, she tells Jack that she refuses to work with Spike because he can’t remain objective. Tara gets assigned to the case and Dru’s in custody two days later. There’s an inquiry into Spike’s behavior, but Buffy refuses to say anything about it and the matter is dropped. Buffy requests a new partner and Spike gets seriously hacked off. Shortly afterward, Spike retires and that’s the end of the Buffy/Spike saga,” Anya concluded with a sigh.

Willow silently digested the information while the rest reflected on that tumultuous period. Tensions had been high in the office after Buffy and Spike split up. Buffy had requested an office on a different floor and Spike opted to work more from home. Even Jack tried his hardest to keep them out of the same room together. Though genuinely sad to see him go, everyone had breathed a sigh of relief when Spike retired and took the uneasy atmosphere with him.

Spike walked in and glanced around the quiet room. “What happened? We run out of suspects?” he attempted to lighten the mood.

“No, we were just discussing your pathetic love affair with Dru, the wacko killer you lusted after for months,” Anya spoke up tactlessly.

Spike turned to face his ex-partner. “Bloody hell! This was your idea, wasn’t it? Ol’ Spike’s not around so it’s story time, is that it?”

Buffy did a double take and took a deep breath to calm herself. “Me? I’d rather face a horde of demons than discuss Dru. Criminals who get off scot-free are not my favorite subject.”

“She did her time, can’t you just let her go on with her life in peace?” Spike demanded, defending his former flame.

“She didn’t do any time!” Buffy raged, abruptly getting to her feet. “She spent thirteen months in an institution and then she was released onto the streets. Right before she was supposed to stand trial, all the evidence mysteriously disappeared and she got to walk free. You know, you never did tell me where you hid it all.” By now she had stormed around the coffee table to stand in front of Spike.

Spike let out a low growl and grabbed her upper arms. “Watch what accusations you make, Summers.”

Buffy wrenched herself from Spike’s grip and rubbed her arms. “I’m not making accusations, I’m asking questions. I don’t think I’m out of line at all. You’re the only one who had the motivation to get Dru off. You’re the one who kept announcing that as soon as she got out you were going to ask her to marry you.”

“I would have waited for her to get out of prison. I would have waited a bloody lifetime for her,” Spike’s voice rose as he took a step towards Buffy. “Besides, you know as well as I do that she never would have survived a trial. She’s too delicate for that.”

“Delicate? The word is crazy, Spike,” Buffy rubbed the back of her neck. After all this time, Spike was still defending Dru. What would it take for him to realize that the murderess had just been using him? “Insane, nuts, certifiable, bonkers, a -“

“Raving lunatic,” Anya threw in with a smile.

“Complete wacko.” Xander chimed in.

“She was a bit deranged,” Tara added, shrugging her shoulders ruefully.

“Bollocks!” Seeing the skeptical looks, he amended, “All right, so she was a little… unglued. That doesn’t give you people the right to judge her this way. She’s had counseling and she’s sorry for what she did.”

“Sorry? She murdered three men in cold blood then tried to make me her fourth victim, and she gets off with a ‘sorry’?” Buffy cried indignantly, jaw dropping in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that such words were coming from Spike’s mouth. Before Dru, he’d been all for making lawbreakers pay for what they did and now he wanted to let them off with an apology.

Seeing that this argument was not going to end nicely, Willow picked up Buffy’s cell phone and offered it to her. “Buffy, isn’t it time to call Dawn?”

Buffy turned away from Spike and reached for the phone. She silently thanked Willow for interrupting. She and Spike had gone through this many times before and it always ended the same way: him defending Dru and her blaming him for the evidence mishap. She stalked toward the porch clutching the phone, resisting the urge to throttle Spike.

Before she reached the back door, she turned around and glared at her ex-partner. “Put her on the suspect list, Will,” she instructed the computer genius. Her eyes never left Spike’s, daring him to contradict her. She momentarily doubted his ability to protect her. What if Dru was the killer? Would he stand by and let his love murder Buffy and Dawn or would he stop her? As if he could read Buffy’s thoughts, Spike averted his eyes. She spun on her heel and slammed the back door on her way out. He would never forgive her for what she was about to do, but she had Dawn to think of. If Spike couldn’t defend them against Dru, she’d take Dru out of the equation.

Chapter Five


Buffy watched as the black sedan pulled into the mini-mart’s empty parking lot. She stepped forward when the driver’s door opened and a tall, dark-haired man slid out of the car.

“You’re late,” she complained, looking pointedly at her watch.

“And you’re as impatient as ever,” Angel Brennan, Buffy’s ex-fiancé, responded teasingly.

Buffy eyed his dark trench coat and the black suit underneath. “God, could you be any more stereotypical?”

Angel glanced down at his attire and shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s what I wear every day.”

“Did you sleep through the lesson on blending in with other people? That look just screams ‘spy’ or ‘government agent,’” she mocked, grinning. She’d met Angel when she was a new recruit in Quantico. She had been instantly attracted to the handsome weapons instructor. They’d enjoyed a brief, tumultuous, not to mention forbidden, affair. Shortly after she transferred to Baltimore, he’d quit the FBI and joined the CIA’s Clandestine Service. Their relationship fizzled as they focused on different careers and different priorities.

“I’ll bring it up at the next meeting,” Angel’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Do you want the information, or are you just here to give me fashion critique?”

“What did you find out?” Buffy’s smile faded as she was brought back to the purpose of this meeting.

Angel reached inside the car and brought out a thick manila folder. “This isn’t really my jurisdiction, you know. I had to pull some strings and call in a few favors, but I managed to get all the information you need.”

Buffy gratefully accepted the folder and quickly flipped through the typed pages. She paused and scowled when she came to a color picture of Drusilla Moore. “I know you’ve already gone through this, so why don’t you just give me a quick rundown?” she proposed, closing the file and tucking it under her arm.

Angel sighed and leaned against the car. ‘Same old impetuous Buffy.’ He should have known she wouldn’t just take the folder and read the reports herself. “She’s in town, not too far from Spike’s place. She’s been laying low, but she’s been seen with a couple of her old friends.”

“What are the chances she could have done this?” Buffy got straight to the point. If Dru were back to picking up guys and killing them, she’d deal with that later. Right now her focus was on stopping the killer before he or she got to Dawn.

“I don’t see what her motivation would be, Buff. Sure she hates you, but so do half the people you’ve dealt with. Besides, I don’t think she has any beef against Spike or the FBI. She’s a free woman, why would she want to draw attention to herself now? I don’t think this was her,” Angel stated cautiously, waiting for Buffy to blow up. Although he’d been out of the country at the time, he’d learned all about the Moore investigation and it’s fallout.

He was surprised when she nodded slowly. “You’re right,” she agreed with a sigh. ”It couldn’t have been her. I was just hoping that it was and this would all be over.”

Angel moved away from the car and pulled her in his arms. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. I’ve got a few weeks vacation saved up, I can take you away until the investigation is over,” he offered.

Buffy sniffed and offered a watery smile. “I know. Thank you. But I have to be here for this… I need to be here for this.”

Angel hugged her tightly and reluctantly let go. “The offer’s always open. Is there anything else you need?” It hurt him to see her in so much pain. They may have drifted apart and it had been his decision to end their relationship, but she still held a piece of his heart and she always would.

“No, you’re already too involved. This is something I have to do myself. Even if Dru didn’t kill my family, I have to get her out of the way. When she’s around Spike doesn’t think clearly,” Buffy responded wearily.

“What exactly are you planning on doing?” Angel asked cautiously. The Buffy he knew had never been one for cold-blooded murder, but tragedy had a frightening effect on some people. If she felt that Dru was a threat to Dawn’s safety, he knew she would do just about anything to get rid of the raven-haired criminal.

Buffy shook her head slowly, exhaling loudly. “Whatever it takes to protect Dawn.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to take this step?” Angel peered into his ex-fiance’s eyes, searching for any hint of her intentions. At Buffy’s hesitant nod, he sighed heavily. An unpredictable Buffy was a dangerous thing. “Be careful and call me if anything else comes up. You know I’ll be your alibi.”

Buffy kissed him on the cheek and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks, Angel. I owe you.” After another hug, she headed for her Jeep, the folder still in her hands. Angel waited until she was safely on the street before getting in his car. He waited a few minutes and then followed Buffy’s red Jeep.

Buffy had almost reached Spike’s house when she made a decision. Before she could trust Spike again, she needed to deal with the person still firmly wedged between them. For those first few days he’d been her rock, her anchor to reality. As soon as Dru was mentioned, all the old pain and mistrust came rushing back. After the previous afternoon, Spike had kept to the office in an attempt to avoid Buffy and any further confrontations.

Resolved to banish the specter of Drusilla Moore from their relationship once and for all, Buffy pulled to the side of the road, flipping through the folder in search of the felon\'s last known address. Fortunately, numerous trips to Spike’s house had made her familiar with that section of Baltimore. Twenty minutes and one missed turn later, she switched off the headlights and parked her Jeep on the street outside an older townhouse. A quick look at the numbers on the mailbox confirmed that this was the right location.

Buffy left the car unlocked and pocketed the keys. She took the Glock from the waistband of her jeans and turned the safety off. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, she prepared to confront her nemesis.

After two knocks, the door cracked open. Dru stood in the doorway, a faint smile gracing her pale face. “Hello Special Agent Summers,” she greeted lightly, her voice ethereal as ever. She stepped aside to let the blonde enter.

Buffy brushed past Dru and quickly glanced around the dimly lit room. She relaxed slightly when her instincts and training told her no one else was in the house. “Hello Drusilla,” she responded uneasily.

Dru perched delicately on the arm of a ratty crimson loveseat. “Three little pieces of metal. So small, so perfect, so devastating. Three little bullets made three little holes. Blood pours from the holes, life slipping away,” her voice was soft, almost as if she was speaking to herself.

Buffy moved forward, her hand reaching back to rest on her gun. Curiosity kept her from whipping the weapon out and pulling the trigger. “How did you know about that?” she demanded. At her insistence, Jack had kept her family’s name out of the papers. There was only one way anyone else could have known about what had happened.

“The stars, they’re screaming about the blood. Mummy and Daddy Summers and the little one -- so much pain. Screaming, she’s screaming. Sister, sister, why couldn’t you save me?” Dru wrung her slender hands nervously, almost as if she were reliving the events in her mind.

Buffy stood in front of the other woman, her face a mask of fury. “You did this, didn’t you? You killed my family!” She grabbed the taller woman by the arms and lifted her off the seat; her body shaking with barely suppressed rage.

Dru threw back her head and laughed mockingly. “So much hatred, so much anger pointed in the wrong direction.” When her arm wasn’t released, she stopped laughing and sobered. “No, lovey, I didn’t.”

Buffy searched her eyes for a moment and then let go of her arm. “I know. I know. I just hoped…” her voice broke slightly. It would have been so much easier if the Dru had been the killer. With the investigation over and the murderer in jail, the healing process could begin. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She was back to square one with no leads and no suspects.

Drusilla eyed the petite blonde standing before her. Last time she’d seen Agent Summers, the other woman had been full of self-righteousness and hatred. Now she could almost see the waves of pain and confusion coming from her. She wrapped an arm around her former archenemy and guided her onto the loveseat.

The two women sat in silence, the ticking of a clock the only sound in the room. “Does Spike know you’re here?” Buffy asked quietly, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“William bought the house for me. Tried to set me up right and proper, he did,” Dru answered. She removed her arm from Buffy’s shoulders and plucked at the loose material on the loveseat.

“After you… after you got free, why didn’t you marry him? He loves you,” Buffy choked out. This conversation was more difficult than she had expected. Did she really want to hear the details of Spike’s relationship with the murderess?

Dru’s eyes took on a glazed look. “Foolish boy, trying to change that which does not want to be changed. The stars are laughing, laughing at my white knight. Such a good pet, so easy to play with,” she reminisced, giggling at a private joke.

“You never loved him.” The realization hit Buffy like a blow, confirming her suspicions. Drusilla had just been using Spike but he’d been too blind to see that.

“Love? Miss Edith and I were enchanted by my angel, yes, but we did not love him. He tried to make us behave but we like to be naughty. Had to let my pet go,” Dru pouted, as if she regretted the decision.

Buffy had one last question for her unlikely companion. “Did you ever encourage him?” If Spike had been lured in by something the captivating murderess had said or done, then she could make herself justify what he’d done and they could move on.

Dru smiled evilly, a light shining in her eyes. “The fairies spoke to him. They told him I was not naughty, that I was being framed. I asked them to find me someone to help and they brought my William. I promised him eternity. But eternity was not meant to be.”

“Did he tell you what he did with the evidence?” Buffy pressed. Although she could justify Spike’s behavior during the investigation, evidence tampering was unforgivable.

Dru shook her head slowly, dark hair forming a curtain around her pale face. “My angel tried to find the naughty killer, but he was looking in the wrong place. He wouldn’t help the fairies get rid of that dirty knife, so they found someone who would. No more knife, no more case, no more jail,” Dru sing-songed.

Knowing that Drusilla’s moment of lucidity had ceased, Buffy stood and moved toward the door. She had her answers. Spike, with his weakness for female vulnerability, would have believed her and done everything in his power to help Dru during the investigation. It was a relief to finally know that he hadn’t been involved with the disappearance of the evidence.

“I asked him to come with me, to run away,” Dru’s lilting voice stopped Buffy from leaving the house. The blonde paused, but did not turn around. “He refused. He wanted me to play nice with others. My William asked me to fight for the good. He wanted me to be you,” she said.

Buffy opened the door and walked out, not sure what to make of the woman’s last statement. Spike had wanted Dru to be more like her? What did that mean? She pondered the question as she walked back to her car. Lost in thought, she tripped on a piece of cracked pavement and crashed into a warm chest.

“Did you skip the class on walking?” Angel teased as he set Buffy on her feet.

“Ha ha, very funny. What are you doing here?” she walked around the jeep and opened the driver’s side door.

“Wanted to make sure you got home all right. I didn’t hear any gunshots so I assume that Drusilla’s still alive,” Angel observed calmly. When Buffy had first gone into Dru’s house, he restrained himself from dashing in after her. Drusilla Moore, even at her most vulnerable, was still a force to be reckoned with.

“Yeah, she’s still alive. Unfortunately,” Buffy grumbled. “Do me a favor?”

Angel was silent for a moment as he considered the possibilities. Although he would do anything for Buffy, at the moment he couldn’t afford to have any suspicion surrounding his name. “What do you need?”

“Get her out of here. Don’t hurt her,” Buffy paused for a second and smiled indulgently. “On second thought, hurt her just a little. She’s a distraction we don’t need.”

“I can do that,” Angel agreed, relieved that she hadn’t asked for more. He shuddered involuntarily when a thought hit him. He wouldn’t want to be in Buffy’s shoes when Spike found out what she’d done.

“Thanks. Again,” Buffy slid into the jeep and turned the key in the ignition. “I still owe you.”

“One of these days I’m going to collect,” Angel reminded seriously. Buffy nodded and quietly pulled away from the curb. Once her taillights disappeared, Angel stuffed his hands in his pocket and trudged up the sidewalk to Dru’s front door. The brunette’s reaction was not going to be pleasant.

Buffy mentally reviewed the evening’s events during the short drive to Spike’s house. She cut the engine and coasted into the driveway. Using her spare key, Buffy let herself in. Careful not to wake the others, she slipped off her shoes and padded to the kitchen. Flipping on the lights, she nearly shrieked when she saw Spike seated at the table, a glass of water in his hands.

“You scared me,” she accused, moving to the cabinets and taking out a glass for herself. She filled it with water and turned around, leaning against the counter.

“Where are the groceries?” Spike asked, eyebrow raised inquiringly.

“The wh-,” she began. She winced as she remembered her earlier lie. Going out for groceries...right. “I didn’t go to the grocery store,” she confessed.

Spike eased himself out of the chair and joined Buffy by the counter. While putting his glass in the sink, he caught a whiff of her scent. “You smell like Dru,” he observed.

“Let me just say, ew,” Buffy shuddered. She had hoped to avoid having this discussion with Spike. If he was angry with her for going to see his former flame, he would be livid if he found out what she’d discussed with Angel.

Spike crossed his arms and glared at his ex-partner. “Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked. He wondered how Buffy had gotten Dru’s address. He’d gone to great lengths to ensure that she never found out where his dark princess was staying.

Buffy was quiet for a moment as she searched for a way to phrase her answer. She wasn’t ready to let Spike in on all the details of her conversation with the raven-haired criminal. “I’m having Willow take her off the list,” she said finally.

“I had Red remove her a couple of hours ago,” Spike’s voice was cool. “She has an alibi.”

“How do you...you went and saw her today? That’s how she knew about what happened,” Buffy thought aloud, putting the pieces together. “Why did you go see her?”

Spike sighed and closed his eyes. “I had to be sure it wasn’t her. You and the Bit are the most important thing in the world to me,” he admitted softly.

Buffy’s head jerked up, startled by the admission. She opened her mouth to speak, but Spike cut her off.

“This is going to come out wrong, but I need to say it. I’m sorry. My behavior the other day… and before… I was an ass. Dru was the worst bloody mistake of my life. I was a fool to believe in her, to believe that she loved me. You were right, she was just using me.” His eyes opened, pain evident in the blue depths.

Buffy reached out and cupped his cheek lightly. “She is a convincing actress, I’ll admit. Why do you keep helping her?”

“Because she was the first girl to give me the time of day. She was the first chit to see through the leather and the tough talk and find the real William,” Spike’s voice was husky. It was hard for him to admit these things to Buffy of all people. For years she’d been his best friend, but he’d never completely let his guard down around her. With Buffy he was always the Big Bad.

“I’m sorry for believing that you were the one to get rid of the evidence against Dru. I should have known that you’d never do anything like that,” Buffy apologized sincerely. She felt her heart melt at the smile that graced Spike’s tired face. “Thank you, William, for taking care of Dawn and me,” she said, pulling her hand away and letting her arm fall limply by her side. “Thank you for… the other thing. It means a lot that you did that.” The meaning behind Spike’s action was not lost on her. By admitting that he was wrong about Dru, he had taken a very large step toward rebuilding their friendship and regaining her trust. She flashed a weary smile and headed up to her room.

Spike stared longingly after Buffy. Where did this leave them? Without the animosity lingering between them, could they rebuild their friendship? The past couple of years without her had left him with an empty void that only the blonde could fill. One question still nagged him, though. How had she gotten a hold of Dru’s address?





Chapter 6

Xander set a large box on the ground and sat at the kitchen table next to Buffy. She glanced up from the psychological profile she was reading and flashed him a small smile.

“This everything the forensic guys picked up,” he told her. “I skimmed through the report and something really caught my eye. They only found 2 mugs. They've been identified as the ones your mother and your father used. The third one's missing.” He reached into the box and pulled out a thin stack of paper.

Buffy stared at the report but made no move to take it from him. After a moment of silent contemplation, she jumped to her feet. “Take me to the house.”

“I don’t think that's a good idea, Buff. You avoided the crime scene before, but this would mean having to actually go into those rooms. I've seen the pictures. It's not a pretty sight. The cleaning crew --” Xander started to argue.

“Either you go with me or I’m going by myself. It’s your choice,” she interrupted, already halfway out the door.

Cursing under his breath, Xander followed the petite blonde out of the house. When he got outside, she was standing beside his truck, waiting for him to open it. Tara and Anya had used Buffy’s Jeep to get the groceries she had forgotten the day before. Willow and Spike were at the office updating Jack and retrieving a few more files.

“How’s Dawn doing?” Xander asked as he drove from Baltimore to Annapolis. He’d hinted a few times, but two blondes were tight-lipped on the subject of Dawn’s location.

“Not so good. She tries to be strong when I call but I can tell she’s still miserable. Last night she asked about funeral arrangements and that started a two hour sob-fest.” Buffy closed her eyes and slid down in the seat. “God, I haven’t even started thinking about that yet. The ME’s releasing… my family… in two days, and I have no idea what I’m going to do. I should have called Dad’s lawyer and his insurance agent but with the investigation and Dawn…”

Xander reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “We’re all here to help you, Buffy. I’m sure Will and Tara could make a few phone calls for you. I bet I could talk the head medical examiner into holding the bodies until you’re ready. She and I dated for a few months and we’re still pretty close.”

Buffy opened one eye and turned slightly to stare at her companion. “You and Morticia Addams? Your taste in significant others is only slightly better than mine.”

“Oh no, I have the market cornered when it comes to bad relationships,” Xander argued, relieved by the change of subject. A light-hearted discussion was most definitely in order. “My first girlfriend dumped me because my hair ‘looked silly.’”

She raised an eyebrow incredulously. Xander caught the look and smiled sheepishly. “Okay, so I was five,” he confessed, “but that still counts.”

“My one real long-term relationship was a disaster from the beginning,” Buffy began. There was no way he was going to beat her in the bad-relationship department. “You’ve probably met him. He was a weapons instructor at Quantico. Our first meeting I shot him in the ass. Literally.”

She paused while Xander let out a short laugh. “I actually think that was the highlight of our relationship. Even though it was against regulations, we started dating. I gotta tell you, keeping a relationship a secret is not as easy or romantic as it sounds. I think he missed more dates than he kept. Somehow we managed to stay together and the day after I graduated from the Academy, he proposed. A few months later he quit the FBI and joined the CIA. Perfect, wouldn’t you think? We could finally bring our relationship out into the open and be a normal couple. Not likely. One day, completely out of the blue, he announced that he needed to focus more on his career and that I was holding him back. When I got home from work the next day, all his stuff was gone.” A hint of bitterness crept into Buffy’s voice. The callous way Angel had ended things had been a sore spot for years. It was Spike's defection that had pushed her into returning Angel's calls and starting a friendship with her former lover.

“Ah, workplace relationships: they never work. I tried it once, never going to try it again. Well, probably never. I mean… maybe. Okay, okay, I’m sure I’ll do it again,” Xander argued with himself “Anyway, I met a pretty redhead when I was at a briefing in D.C. After a week of begging and pleading, she agreed to go out with me. I went all out, we're talking candlelight, French wine, food with names that I can't pronounce. We spent the whole evening talking and laughing. I thought things were going great. A first date leads to four or five more. After walking her to her front door and a small goodnight kiss on the fifth date, she hangs her head and starts sobbing. Being the gentleman that I am, I hand her a tissue and wait for her to tell me what’s wrong. She gives me this pituful look and says that my kiss confirmed it for her. She’s a lesbian.”

Buffy stared at Xander for a moment, feeling a tug of sympathy for the blow to his male ego. “Wow. I didn’t know you and Willow dated.”

“How’d you know it was Will?” Xander was curious. They had taken great lengths to ensure that their past relationship was never brought up. Although the incident was the beginning of their friendship, it was embarrassing for both.

“They way you greeted each other when she first arrived in Baltimore. The rest of us were polite but you jumped right in and took her to lunch. All right, I’m up next, right?” At Xander’s nod, she continued. “I met Riley three months after Angel left. I wasn’t ready to start dating again, but he was just so damn persistent. As a Baltimore police officer, I thought we had quite a bit in common. I should have realized something was wrong when he didn’t want to hear about my job. We dated for four or five months and then he drops a bombshell on me. He says that the only way he’ll continue to see is if I quit my job. Turns out I wasn’t damsel-in-distress-y for him.”

“Ouch. Reminds of my brief and tragic affair with the high and mighty Miss Cordelia Chase. In high school her biggest hobby was making my life hell. We met again right after I was assigned to Baltimore. We had dates in Annapolis because she didn’t want any of her friends in Baltimore to see her out with me. Finally she got up the nerve to introduce me to her parents. You should have seen the way their noses turned up when I told them what I did for a living. I was in love with Cordy, so I dealt with it. The final straw came when she had me lie to her friends about my job. Man, part of the reason I became a fed was so that I could brag about my job.” Xander related, mentally putting a point in his favor. “Your turn.”

Buffy shook her head. Aside from a horrible one-night stand she’d rather forget, there were no more relationships to discuss. In high school she’d been too involved with her studies to date. After a string of failures with Angel, Riley and Parker, she’d sworn off men for good.

“Okay, I have one more for you then. As I’ve already said, I dated Laura Simmons, the medical examiner. Under all those glares and scowls, she’s a wild woman. It broke my heart when she said that I was too dull for her. Can you imagine, me, too dull for a medical examiner?” Xander finished the story as he turned down Buffy’s street.

“I give, you win. You are the king of pathetic,” Buffy laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. The smile slid off her face when she realized where they were.

He pulled into the driveway and stared at the house in front of him. He’d been to dozens of crime scenes before, but never to one that belonged to someone he knew. Following Buffy’s lead, he got out of the truck and slowly trudged up the driveway. Buffy ducked under the yellow crime scene tape and unlocked the front door. She wrinkled her nose as a dank, musty smell assaulted her senses.

“Ugh, the house has been shut up for too long. Mom hates it when-“ Buffy stopped abruptly and shook her head. “Never mind. The sitting room is this way.” She paused in front of the doorway and summoned up her fading resolve. If she was going to get through this, she had to act like an FBI agent, not a grieving daughter.

Xander put a comforting hand on her shoulder, recognizing his friend’s turmoil. He admired and was amazed by her strength and courage. Few people could face what life had thrown at her without breaking down. She smiled up at him gratefully before opening the pocket doors. Staring incredulously at the room she’d played in as a child, Buffy blinked once, then twice.

“What’s wrong?” Xander queried, pushing past the frozen blond. Was there some gory detail or telltale clue the photographer had missed?

“It looks exactly the same,” she answered softly. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it doesn’t look like anything’s changed.”

He quickly scanned the elegantly furnished room. Aside from a taped off section in the center, the room looked as if it belonged in the pages of Better Homes and Gardens. The forest green couch and the thick beige carpeting were stained with blood. “It’s peaceful, in a weird way.” he observed, moving towards the couch.

“Mom loved her gallery downtown, but this was her personal collection. I remember she would come home with a new piece and just gaze at it for hours," Buffy smiled at the recollection. She paused for a moment and savored the memory before putting it aside. "I want to replay the sequence of events. You're the male victim and I'm the killer."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Xander was having second thoughts about Buffy's plan. She'd referred to her father as the "male victim." Was it a slip or was she shutting down part of her mind? While she was stronger than most people he knew, he didn't want to be around when she finally reached her breaking point. "I don't think you want to get inside this guy's head. I'll take you back to Spike's. We can bring the others back here and then re-enact…what happened."

"I've just sent the child out for ice cream,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “You head for this room while I help your wife with the coffee tray. The three of us share a whole pot, which means we each consume at least two cups, leaving enough for me to have another cup later. After setting my cup down, I stand up and shoot your wife in the head. I pick up her cup off the floor and…something’s not right," Buffy strode purposefully toward the mahogany coffee table. She yanked open the center drawer and pulled out a polished black Walter PPK. "Mom insisted Dad buy this to protect her collection. According to the coroner's report, the killer shot Mom and then Dad. If there were a suspicious man in the house, Dad would have taken the gun out and put it in his pocket. When the killer stooped to pick up the cup, Dad would have had plenty of time to get a shot off."

"Maybe your father was frozen in horror," Xander hazarded a guess. He was trying to see things from the victim's point of view, but it was hard to think for someone that you'd only met a handful of times.

Buffy shook her head, a lock of blonde hair falling in her face. "Dad was a very responsive person. He preferred to act first and think later. They knew who this was," she announced confidently. The victorious smile slid off her face and her eyes widened in horror at the implications. "Oh God, it was someone they knew. Someone they trusted." She sank to her knees and buried her head in her hands.

Xander lifted the petite blonde to her feet and brushed the hair out of her eyes. "You're looking at this the wrong way, Buff. It means that the investigation hasn't hit a brick wall. We just need to revise our list of suspects."

She conceded his logical point and led the way to the kitchen. "The note was left on the refrigerator, but no prints were found on the paper or the magnet. There was no pen found, so we assume the killer took it with him," she explained. Taking a quick glance around the kitchen, her eyes landed on to the dishes in the sink. "He's good, I'll give him that. He washed his cup then wiped down the faucet and the bottle of dishwashing liquid There's not a trace of evidence to be found in here."

They wandered around the house for a few more minutes, trying to find anything that would reveal the murderer’s identity. Knowing that she would spend the rest of the day in the house if he let her, Xander insisted they return to Spike's house. A flash of white attached to his windshield wiper caught his attention. He tried to reach it before Buffy could see it, but was too late. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach worsened when her face went ashen and her hands trembled.

"What does it say?" Xander asked, making no move to take the sheet of paper from her.

"'Did you think it would be that easy? I could have killed you right now, while you were in the house, but I'm going to make you wait. Hope the reunion with Brennan went well. By the way, love the new haircut.'" Buffy read, her voice void of all emotion. Her hand immediately flew to her head. Willow had given her a haircut that morning, leaving her blonde tresses shoulder-length. She slowly folded the paper, and, after stuffing it in the back pocket of her jeans, joined Xander in the truck. The return trip was silent, both parties lost in thought.

Spike was waiting for them on the front porch when they arrived. He jumped to his feet at the sight of the battered truck. "Where have you been? Red and I have been calling everyone looking for you," Spike demanded, opening the truck door for Buffy.

"We went to the house," Xander answered, desperately wishing he could run inside the house. Spike was fiercely protective of his former partner, and understandably so in Xander’s opinion.

"You brainless idiot! What were you thinking? That's the last place she needs to be! Of all the bloody insensitive..." Spike's face turned a bright red, his tightly clenched fists resting on the hood of the truck.

"Lay off Spike, it was my idea," Buffy interrupted, putting a hand on Spike's chest.

"I don't care whose idea it was, he had no right to take you back there!" Spike would not be soothed. He'd seen the pain and anguish on Buffy's face when she'd entered the house to collect her things and he'd be damned if he let anyone put her through that again.

"Go on inside, Xander, I'll talk to Spike," Buffy urged, hazel eyes locked with blue. Beating Xander to a pulp was not going to make the bleached blonde feel any better.

"Yeah, go inside whelp and hide behind Anya's skirts," Spike taunted. He let out a hiss of pain when Buffy tugged on a peroxide blonde curl. "What in the bloody hell did you do that for?"

"I told you to lay off. Xander didn't want to go with me. I told him that if he didn't take me I would go by myself," she explained with a sigh. The pair walked to the back of the truck. Spike let down the tailgate and hopped up next to Buffy.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Spike inquired, putting an arm around Buffy's shoulders. He didn't want to admit that it was fear, not anger, which had him lashing out at Xander. When he'd returned to the house to find her gone, his imagination had gone into overdrive. Visions of her dead body in an alley or being tortured by the murderer had assaulted his mind.

Buffy slowly shook her head, and then lowered it to rest on his shoulder. "Just more questions. I still don't understand it all, William."

Spike shifted so that she was sitting in his lap. He wrapped both arms around her slight form and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Very few things in this world make sense, pet," he murmured sagely.

"One minute they were here with plans and dreams and life, and the next they're gone. All I have is memories and photographs and they don't seem like nearly enough. I want to go home and find Mom and Celia making cookies in the kitchen. I want Dad to be in his study surrounded by piles of paperwork. I want to go back to that house and hear laughter and chatter and arguments, for it to feel like a home again and not a damn mausoleum," Buffy raged tearfully, her voice muffled by Spike's black t-shirt.

Spike, unsure of what to say, rubbed Buffy's back in slow circular motions, wordlessly encouraging her to get everything off her chest. He was relieved to know that she was secure enough in their relationship to let him see her weaker side.

"We can't stay in that house. As soon as this investigation's over, I'm going to have to sell it," she told him firmly. With all the memories and ghosts that now haunted the house, she and Dawn would never know a moment's peace. There were some wounds even time couldn't heal.

"You and the Bit are welcome to stay with me for as long as you need," Spike invited, ignoring the other voice in his head telling him he had ulterior motives for issuing the invitation. "Red mentioned the funeral and offered to take care of things for you."

"Thank you. Everyone's been so wonderful. I don't know how I would have survived if you hadn't been there for me," Buffy said, voice thick with emotion. She lifted her head to press a soft kiss to Spike's cheek. "Especially you. I'll never be able to thank you for everything you've done for me."

"What are friends for?" he chuckled, breaking the moment. He reluctantly released her, instantly missing the feel of her in his arms. "Did you make any startling revelations while you were at the house?" he asked, attempting to get his mind off the memory of Buffy's lips pressed against his cheek.

Her eyes clouded over as she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. "We've been looking in the wrong places. It's someone they knew," she revealed.

Spike jumped off the tailgate and turned to help Buffy down. He snaked his arm around her waist and set her gently on the ground. When he moved his arm, his fingers brushed against something dully pointed. Without warning, he reached into her back pocket and pulled out the note. Buffy hung her head as he read the threatening note.

"Were you going to tell me about this? And why does he mention tall dark and forehead? I didn't think you and the poof were on speaking terms," Spike demanded, waving the note in her face.

"Angel and I are friends now... sort of. He was helping me out with a problem. I was going to tell you about the note, when the time was right," Buffy retrieved the note from him and returned it to the pocket.

"That's how you got Dru's address." It was more of a statement than a question. She nodded affirmatively, seeing no point in lying to him more.

"This was before you apologized, Spike. I didn't think I had a choice. Dawn is my number one concern. I had to make sure she would be protected," Buffy pleaded, reaching out to him.

Spike moved out of her grasp and crossed his arms over his chest. "I would never let anything happen to your or your sister. I thought you knew that by now."

"I do Spike, I do. I'm sorry I doubted you. There was so much unfinished business between us still. I had to clear the air so that we could move forward," Buffy assured him. She was willing to say anything to melt his icy glare.

"Move forward to what?" Spike's voice was suspicious. Years of working with Buffy had taught him that she'd do just about anything to get her way. She had no qualms about using her feminine wiles to win an argument.

"I don't know yet. I just know that I need you and these last few years have felt so empty without you around," Buffy confessed. This time when she reached for him, he didn't move away. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stared imploringly into his eyes.

"All right, you're forgiven. Get rid of those puppy-dog eyes," Spike growled. The sincerity behind Buffy's confession moved him in ways he didn't understand. The rest of the note's meaning had him tightening his grasp on the blonde.

"You're not going anywhere without me, you understand?"

"Spike I--" started, intending to remind him that she was, in fact, a federal agent.

He lifted her chin so she couldn't look away. "You could have been killed today. I've just gotten my best friend back, and I'm sure as hell not going to lose her again so soon."

 

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