Tara trudged tiredly downstairs. Most of the night she had lain in bed, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling, her mind racing. She couldn't work out what had tried to get into the house. The white witch felt dirty from the brief contact; she really needed to sit and centre herself. As she reached the hall, Tara could hear Buffy and Spike in the kitchen talking quietly. Edging around the doorway, she smiled at the blonde couple. Spike stood at the island whisking some eggs up with Buffy perched on the counter facing him. She was picking at bits of cheese and giggling at something Spike had said.

"Morning."

"Hey, Tara."

"Glinda."

"Guys, what are you staring at?" Tara casually wiped her hand under her nose.

"Tara! Chill, there's nothing hanging off your nose." Buffy giggled. Spike reached over for the frying pan and set it onto the stove.

"Glinda, scrambled with cheese and ham?"

"Sounds good. Yes, please." The Wiccan eased herself onto one of the barstools and rested her chin on one of her hands. A faint smile lingered on her lips as she watched the couple interact. They looked happy and rested. Their auras were glowing as much as their happy faces. "What happened at the shop?"

Buffy made a face as an image of Xander's face flashed through her mind.

"Trashed. Weird thing though, we couldn't tell if anything had been taken. Spike could only smell us and burnt fuses." Buffy frowned, "Crap! Spike, we have to call Anya and tell her we are going to LA to help Wes." She turned to Spike, a frown marring her forehead, "We can't leave them to do it on their own." He stepped between her legs and pulled her to the edge of the kitchen counter resting his cheek against hers. Their arms wrapped around each other.

‘They really are meant to be,’ Tara thought sadly. ‘Unlike me and Willow…’

"Luv, it’s too early. Wait an hour for demon girl and the monumental prat to wake up." He ran a gentle finger down Buffy's nose and then traced her top lip.

"Yeah, but they won't understand why I'm not there. But we can't not go see Wes. He's hurt and from what the nurse said, alone." Buffy circled her fingertips in the small of Spike's back as they talked.

"Burnt fuses?" Tara queried. Her stomach clenched in worry. 'Willow! That was what I must have picked up last night. Goddess! Was it only last night?'

"Yeah, pet. Wot? Ring any bells?"

"Magic."

"Well, bugger me!" He turned to Buffy. "Luv, I am getting bloody old, letting that one slip past me." Spike rolled his eyes in a Buffyesque move. He turned back to the pan to stir the eggs. "So…" He paused in contemplation. "There were no unfamiliar scents. Who could have it been?" He caught Tara's sad eyes. "Balls!" Spike threw his spatula in the sink.

"What? What are you guys thinking?" Buffy demanded.

"Red!"

"Willow…" Tara muttered her erstwhile lovers name as she ducked her head and hid under her hair.

"None of that." Spike tapped his long fingers under her chin. "Can't be hiding such a pretty face now, can we?" he asked gently. He stroked her face softly and blotted the tears that had escaped. Tara was more than a little surprised at his gentleness. She could understand him being like that with Buffy and Dawn, but not her. No one cared about her feelings, not since her Mom. Her confusion must have shown on her face because Spike grinned. “Hey, sweet one, I care.” He turned away, missing the glorious smile on Tara’s face.

"What did Willow do now?" Buffy was completely confused.

"Good question, pet. I guess she must have nuked the shop. Real question is why?" Spike turned in Buffy's arms so that he rested his back against her chest and faced Tara. "Glinda?"

"I have no idea! What could she be thinking?" Tara toyed with the sleeve of her shirt, unwilling to look at either of them. She was embarrassed for Willow and also shocked that she would cause such destruction. " I m… mean if you couldn't smell anything other than us and the magic expended, it would have to be either me or Willow…" She paused for a second, "but I'll have to go down there and see for myself. I may be able to pick something up. Spike, did you sense anything else?"

The vampire closed his eyes and tried to recall everything from last night. Frustrated, he shrugged his shoulders. "Nope, just you lot and the magicks…" He glared at Buffy and her raised brows. “Well, wot? I thought was fuses." He grinned over at Tara. "Oh, luv, better remember to tell Anyanka to call in the exterminators."

"Why?"

"There was a strong smell of rats in the shop. Last thing shop girl needs is Roland having a nibble on her Mandrake!" Seeing the blank looks on the two girl’s faces, he groaned. "Balls, I need some English mates…"

"Spike, eggs are ready." Tara interrupted before the blond vamp started to explain himself.

"Right, you two settle in and get noshing!" Spike ladled the food out. He heaped the island with plates of eggs, bacon, sausages, grilled mushrooms and fried bread. "A good English breakfast'll set you up for the day." He reached over and snagged a piece of toast and ate it with relish. A smile drifted over his face as he watched both of the girls heap food on their plates. Buffy in particular; he had expected the usual fight and then her picking at a tiny amount and declaring herself full.

"Yum! Spike, this is good. I am starving. Any more eggs?" Buffy gave him the big waif eyes. She knew he couldn’t resist them, especially if she went for the killer combo with the trembling pout as well. As the vamp turned to the pan, Tara cleared her throat.

"Look guys, I'll go into the shop today and help them. Dawn can meet me there after school, and she can help out. You guys go down to LA and see your friend Wes." Tara chewed thoughtfully on a fried mushroom. “Look, Dawn can either stay with me or I’ll stay here. Then you guys can take your time in LA.”

“Tara, about Wes... I’m not sure how you feel about healing spells… you may believe that nature should take its course…” Buffy paused, unsure of the gentle Wicca’s reaction to her request.

Spike interrupted Buffy; he knew she felt uncomfortable asking, so he took the onus on himself.

“Glinda, can you mojo up something that’ll fix him? It sounds like he’s in a bad way. The poor sod’s had his throat slit and from what the nurse said, he can’t speak.”

“S...sure. Someone cut his throat? That’s awful! I don’t think I can completely heal something like that, but I can help. Let me see what I can find here. I’m sure Willow has some stuff hidden away; I’ve got my books here as well.” Tara slid to her feet and disappeared upstairs.

“What? No! I cleared out…” Buffy trailed off, suddenly realising that she had been incredibly naïve. “Oh…” She caught Spike’s eyes, blushing and feeling very silly.

“No worries, pet. You just wanted to think the best of your friend. What she is trying to do, you know, controlling her powers, it’s hard. She may slip, but you’ll be there to catch her. We all will.” Spike smoothed her hair off her face as his tongue traced the outline of her lips. Buffy moaned softly, her tongue snaking out and tangling with his. She pulled him closer and her fingers twisted in his soft curls as she tried to meld with his body.

“Mmmm.”

“Okay, PDA alert!” Dawn’s sleepy voice filled the kitchen. The two blondes separated and grinned sheepishly at the gangly teen, who stood grinning at them. “Feed me!”

* * * * *

Willow woke up slowly. She ached all over. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and wondering where the hell she was. The room was unfamiliar. She clutched at her head. The throbbing was terrible. She felt like she had been run over and then the same car had backed over her again for good measure. She looked at her knuckles and wondered who had wrapped them. As she tried to bend her knees, she squeaked in pain.

"Willow? You up?" Amy peeked over the breakfast bar and then stood up clutching two cereal boxes in her hands. "Captain Crunch or Lucky Charms?" she asked, nervously watching her fellow Wiccan closely for any signs of Rack's influence.

"My knees hurt." Willow gingerly lifted the blanket and pushed it back. She poked at the bandages Amy had put on her legs the night before.

"I'm sorry. I dropped you last night when I was getting you into the car." There was no way she was going to admit she had hurt Willow deliberately, even if it had been an act in case Rack was watching her. Amy set the cereal boxes aside and came over to the couch. She sank down and waved her hands over the bandages creating a brief flash of light. "There." She peeled off the blood-encrusted band-aids and tossed them on the table. "Good as new. Sorry I didn't fix them last night, but I had to get the wards up around the apartment."

"Huh?" Willow was completely mystified.

"Willow, what do you remember from last night?"

"Rack, hmm. Felt good, but then he touched me. I didn't like that." Willow's words were disjointed, as if she were still trying to regain her equilibrium.

"Anything else?" Amy prodded.

"The Magic Box?" Willow asked. She seemed to recall being there last night, but there had been lots of noise which didn't make sense as the shop would have been closed.

"Yeah, you pretty much trashed it," Amy said wryly, as she pushed up onto her feet.

"Trashed?" Willow's voice wavered, her bottom lip trembled and her face paled. "Why?"

"Oh! Come on, Willow. Don't play the innocent with me. You know what happens after Rack gives you a boost." Amy pulled out some milk from the fridge. "Come and eat something." She gestured with her spoon to the bowl she had left out for Willow.

"Thanks." Willow reached into the cereal box and took a handful of Lucky Charms. She crunched them quietly as she tried to recall what she had done to the shop. "Amy, how did I trash the shop? I don't remember anything!"

"Will, I only got there afterwards. It was a huge mess. I guess whatever magicks Rack hit you with were strong. They must have been too much for your body to contain and they leaked out of you."

"What! Why couldn't I contain it? I'm strong!" Willow groused. Amy shook her head, surprised and more than a little disgusted at her old school friends' lack of concern for anyone but herself.

“Willow. Don't you think you should call the shop and explain?"

"No! I...I can't. They think I stopped. If they knew… If they knew that I had been to Rack's! Oh, Goddess, what am I gonna do?" Willow looked up at her friend, her eyes filled with guilt and worry. ‘Also I really can’t be bothered with the judgmental looks and the sighs.’

Amy frowned. “Willow, you can’t hide this. They’ll find out.”

“No, I’ll stay away for a while.”

“Willow, if you hide from them, they’ll realise that you had something to do with it.” Amy rubbed the tips of her fingers along the edge of her bowl. She tried to ignore the waves of power that were emanating from Willow’s frail form.

“I can’t let them see me now! They’ll be able to tell. I promised them that I wouldn’t do anything magical; not after Dawnie.” Willow’s voice got shriller and shriller.

“Dawn? What did you do to her?” Amy asked sharply, worried that the bright teen had been really hurt.

“Oh, nothing.” Willow looked into her breakfast bowl, stirring the soggy contents and trying hard to avoid the piercing gaze of the brunette across the breakfast bar.

“Willow! Did you hurt her?” Amy tried to keep the anger out of her voice, but failed. Willow hunched her shoulders and avoided her gaze.

“Reveallo.” Amy’s eyes flashed brightly for a second. Then, in her mind’s eye she saw everything from that fateful night. She was nauseated.

“Oh goddess! Willow! You took her to Rack’s and left her in the waiting room?” Amy tilted her head; she recognised the demon that had attacked the two of them. Before she could say anything, she was struck dumb. The cruel words Willow spouted at Dawn and then the car crash. “You broke her arm? OH! Willow!” What really worried her was Willow’s actions and behaviour after she had destroyed the demon. Not once did she show remorse or offer to help Spike and Buffy get Dawn to the hospital. “What is wrong with you? She’s Buffy’s kid sister and you let her get hurt!”

Embarrassed, Willow refused to look at Amy. “It was an accident, I swear! In a way she’s hurt ‘cause of you.” Willow groused.

Amy regarded the redhead and wondered when she had changed. At school, Willow had been a gentle soul. Now she was shrugging off a broken arm and placing the blame elsewhere. “Willow, I know I made a huge mistake taking you to Rack. It was only meant to be a bit of fun,” she wrung her hands, “but there’s always a price for these things. I guess in this case Dawn paid it.”

‘She doesn’t pull any punches!’ Willow refused to look up. She felt a bit sick and really was fed up with everyone judging her. ‘Geez, it’s not like she hadn’t gone there. I am sick of people being jealous of me and my power…’

“Look, Willow, you can’t stay here. My dad won’t put up with it. Also, you need to go back and tell everyone about what happened. They’ll understand; they’ll help you.” Amy paused. “I’ll help.”

“I don’t need help!” Willow stood and turned her back. She couldn’t face another lecture. ‘That’s what Tara is for!’ She thought bitterly.

“Willow, you do. I am worried. I think Rack is going after you in a bad way. I sure as hell will be staying away from him. It was a mistake and I really am sorry for taking you there.

“Amy, don’t be sorry. I loved it. The rush! It felt amazing!”

“So him trying to cop a feel was amazing, too?” Amy asked sarcastically.

Willow’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe it. She spun round to face Amy.

“No, no! It was a dream. He…” She trailed off as the memory of Rack’s lips and hands on her body returned. “But I’m gay now!”

“So?” Amy asked harshly. “You think that would stop him?”

“But, but…” Willow trailed off; she felt sick. The silence in the room was deafening.

“Willow, I had to hide you behind some serious wards last night. He was searching for you and he got close!” Amy watched the mixed emotions cross Willow’s face. “He was scratching on the wards for a while and then vanished. I really think you have to be careful. Please. I would feel terrible if he hurt you.” She crossed the room and took Willow’s cold hands in her own. ‘Maybe she would be safer hidden here behind the wards. Buffy’s good in a fight, but she couldn’t do much if Rack hit her with one of his specials. Crap. Dad is not gonna be happy. But hey, I pay rent, so I can have a friend over.’

“Look, stay here, forget my Dad. But you have to tell everyone what’s going on. I’ll be there, it’ll be ok.” She rubbed her hands over Willow’s cool fingers, trying to warm them.

“Okay, I’ll tell them. But I can stay here? Promise?” Willow mentally crossed her fingers. ‘Man, she is a pushover. I can hide out here until they clean up the shop. Once that’s done, I can get back to Buffy’s and everything will be alright.’ She spotted the bookshelves filled with Witchcraft texts and through the doorway could see the armoire filled with magical tools and various potions. ‘Bonus! When she’s gone I can search for a spell to fix everything. Maybe something to fix Dawn’s arm as well! It’s not like I could at home, since the magical purge.’

“Amy, I’m really tired. Can I rest a bit?”

“Sure. I have to get to work. Do you want me to call Buffy or Xander and tell them where you are?”

“No, I’ll do it when I wake up.”

* * * * *

“Spike lips, yum, lips of Spike!” Buffy murmured. As she zeroed in on them, she caught his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down gently. Spike’s eyes fluttered open. He gazed adoringly at the little blonde. He could hear Tara and Dawn moving around in the kitchen, mixing up a potion from the smell of it. The pungent smells wafted through the house into the sitting room. He pulled Buffy closer as he lay back on the couch. His tongue tangled with Buffy’s as his hands slid under her nightshirt. He smoothed his fingers over her ribs and around to her soft back. He tickled her gently and grinned as she broke off their kiss to giggle and twist in his arms.

“Come on, pet. Get some clothes on and give Anya a bell.” Buffy pouted at him, but at the same time rose and shot out of the room. He heard her clatter up the stairs and into the bathroom.

“Spike?” He focused his gaze on the blonde girl who stood hesitantly in front of him. “Dawn’s getting ready for school; she’s going to stay with me until you get back. I don’t want Willow near her at the moment.” Tara stopped and fiddled with the jar in her hands. “Here, this should work. I m... mean it’ll help. It will probably heal him enough to leave the hospital, but it depends on the wound. Just dab it on and then in a few seconds it’ll do its work.”

“Any side effects?”

“N... no, he’ll feel much better, that’s all.” She sat down next to Spike and rested her hands in her lap. He reached over and very tentatively took them in his. Tara didn’t pull away; instead, she rested her head on his shoulder. Spike froze, surprised that she hadn’t pulled away and run screaming out of the house. He was unused to anyone human accepting an offer of comfort from him. Well, anyone but Buffy and Dawn. “You’re a good person, Spike.” Tara mumbled into his shoulder. “Thank you.”

The normally verbose vampire was silent. He was struck dumb at Tara’s words. ‘A person! She thinks I am a person. And she thanked me. That rarely happens.’ Spike squeezed her hands. ‘Well, that’s that! She’s mine now.’

“Tara, luv. Thanks, I...I…” Spike trailed off, unsure as to what to say. Before he could form a thought, Tara looked up at him and smiled. ‘Now I see how easily it is to love this girl, she is amazing.’ He actually pitied Red despite everything she had done. She would never again have this girl smiling at her. They sat in silence for several minutes, enjoying each other’s company.

“Hey, Tara. What yah doing macking on my man?” Buffy stood in the hallway, grinning at the two of them. Her smile was returned by both of them.

“Oh come on, Buffy, he’s cured me. I only want men from now on!” Tara teased, grinning at her friend.

“Well, I’m sorry about that, luv, the ladies’ loss is our gain.” Spike waggled his eyebrows at both of the girls. “All packed?” He gestured to the backpack by her feet.

“Yeah, I think it’s probably better if we plan for a couple of days. Wes may need some help settling in, or, if I can get him to agree, maybe he could come back here to Sunnydale. What do you think?”

“Good thinking, can we swing by the crypt so you can hop out and grab some clothes for me?”

“Sure, we can do it on the way to the Magic Box. I spoke to Anya and she’s okay about us bailing on her, but I promised we’d pop in and see her before we go.”

* * * * *

“Now behave for Tara and do your homework. If you’re good, there may be a pressie from LA.” Spike pressed a kiss on the teen’s forehead and gave her a hug.

“Love you guys. Have fun and give Wesley this.” Dawn pressed a card into Spike’s hand and darted out of the car. She waved as the Desoto shot off down the street.

“Umm, Spike, how can you drive with the windows like this?” Tara asked, as she rubbed her fingers over the painted window.

“Vamp ESP, pet. Don’t worry; you’re safe. Hell of a lot safer than if Buffy was driving!”

“Hey!” Buffy glared over at the peroxide menace as she slid over and curled up against his lean form. “I’m not that bad…” She trailed off as she heard Tara giggle and Spike laugh out loud. She pouted. “Well, if someone would give me lessons maybe I’d get better!”

“Slayer, I love you too much to teach you how to drive.” Spike retorted.

“Whaaa? Why?”

“Think of the fights we’d have!”

She sat and contemplated him for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess it’s professional driving lessons for me!” She grumped and folded her arms over her breasts.

Spike listened to the two girls chattering away as he navigated the traffic. He squinted through the small peephole in the windshield and turned left. He pulled up at the gates of his cemetery and switched off the engine.

“Here we are, luv. Just nip into the crypt and grab me some shirts. Also, while you’re there, look in the Sarcophagus. There’s a lock box; bring it with you. We’ll need some dosh for this jaunt.”

Spike and Tara sat in the darkened car in silence, waiting for Buffy to return.

Bang.

Buffy slid into the car careful not to expose Spike to the sunlight. “There, I put your stuff in the trunk with mine.” She announced breathlessly, holding the lock box in her hands. “I didn’t know where to put this.” She thrust it into his hand. Spike tossed it onto the dashboard as he started the engine and peeled away from the curb in a screech of dust.

* * * * *

“Burning vamp coming through!” Spike yelled as he ran into the Magic Box, tripping over Xander who was crouched in the doorway sweeping up debris. “Yaah!” They both went flying, much to the amusement of the three girls who watched them tumble into each other.

“So much for vamp elegance and stealth!” Buffy teased as she reached down and pulled Spike to his feet. “Oh, Anya, I am so sorry about this!” Buffy was careful not to voice their suspicions about Willow. They had discussed it on the way over and until they had proof, it would probably be better to keep Xander and Anya out of the loop.

“Anya, this is terrible!” Tara reached over and wrapped Xander’s distraught fiancée in a warm hug which Buffy joined. They cocooned Anya between them, muttering soothing nonsense. “Don’t worry, I’ll skip class and help out.”

“Yeah, unlike some others,” Xander grumbled as he stood and turned to resume his sweeping.

“What was that, floppy boy?” Spike snarled.

“Now, Xander, that is not nice. We discussed this earlier. They have to go to see Mr. Wyndam-Price. That’s what friends do. They help each other, don’t they?” Anya interjected. She patted Tara on the back and stepped away. “Really, I’d have thought that after playing doctors and nurses, you would be happier about Spike and Buffy. I even let you wear the nurse’s uniform and tied you up with the stethoscope!”

Buffy and Tara grimaced at the thought of Xander in a skirt, then they caught each other’s eyes and grinned; both of them realising that they had shared the same mental image.

“Anya! TMI.” Xander glared at her, furious at her sharing their intimate moment. Also, he didn’t need Spike knowing that much about their role-playing.

Spike sauntered over to the red-faced male. “So, got a bit of a kink on last night, Harris? You know, if you’re into the whole S & M scene, I know of this place. It’s just outside of town, but you can really go wild there.” He waggled his eyebrows at the now maroon Xander. He moved closer and whispered into Xander’s ear, “Never pegged you for a cross dresser!” He danced out of Xander’s reach as the incensed male swung a punch at him.

“Xander, no!” Anya yelled.

“Spike, stop it!” Buffy and Tara shouted in unison, both trying not to laugh at Spike’s antics. He had leapt up onto the research table and was waving a feather duster at Xander and laughing his head off.

Before any of the girls could intervene, the phone rang.

“Magic Box, how may I service you? Oh it’s you, Willow.” Anya shrugged and turned to face the counter. Buffy, Tara and Spike froze and listened intently. Xander watched the three of them, wondering why they were so interested in what Anya and Willow were talking about. “Really? Nana Rosenberg? I didn’t know you had a Nana. She’s unwell? Ah. Okay, a couple of days? Well, it’s a pity as we could have used your help. What with?” Anya paused and twisted the telephone cord in her fingers. “It’s awful Willow!” She blurted out. “Someone evil has destroyed the shop, everything is in pieces. It’s all ruined.” Anya burst into tears and dropped the phone. Buffy caught it and pressed it to her ear.

“Willow, it’s me, Buffy. Sorry about that, Anya’s really upset. What’s up with your Nana? Okay so we’ll see you in a couple of days. Naw! Chill out; everything’ll be okay here. You just help your Grandma out.” Buffy hung up the phone and frowned.

Willow put the phone down and sighed. ‘Overreact much, Anya?’

She pulled one of Amy’s spellbooks over, flicking through the pages as she searched for a spell to make it all right. It didn’t cross her mind to ask after Dawn, she was too absorbed in her research.

Tara wandered around the shop trying to sense the source of the magic, her shoulders slumped. She looked over at Spike, who now sat crossed-legged on the table, fiddling with the feather duster. He tilted his head questioningly. She bit her lip and nodded. He sighed in disappointment. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, causing it to curl and stand up on end, only stopping when Buffy sat next to him and smiled sadly up at him.

“Time’s a wasting, pet. We’d better head off to LA.” Spike clapped his hands together and jumped to his feet as he reached over and pulled Buffy up. “Tara?” He looked over at the quiet Wiccan who was picking through the herbs trying to rescue as much as she could.

“Hmm?”

“You okay?” Spike cocked his head and watched her closely.

“Course she’s okay, fangless.” Xander interjected. “Why don’t you guys just go?”

“Tara?” Spike ignored Xander and stepped over to the quiet girl, pulling Buffy along with him.

“It’s okay, you guys go. Just call us with a contact number when you get there.” She patted Spike on the shoulder and turned back to her sorting.

“Anya, we’ll call you tonight.” Buffy shuffled her feet, feeling self-conscious.

“Sure, off you go. Help that poor man. We’ll have everything sorted by the time you get back. Drive safely!”

* * * * *

Buffy's high-heeled sandals clicked loudly on the linoleum as she trotted down the hallway. Spike sauntered along beside her, the two of them presenting an incongruous image; sleek, well groomed California Girl and Bad Boy Punk, but it worked.

"Come on, Spike, we're late. I don't want Wesley to think he's on his own." They rounded the corner and arrived in the ICU. "Where's his room?" She paused and then spotted the open door, "There, come on." She pulled on Spike's leather-clad arm the bright balloons she had bought in the gift shop bouncing behind them. She shifted the bag of goodies they had bought for the patient. Spike cocked his head to one side; he could hear a voice coming from the ex-Watcher's room.

"Hold up, luv. There's some bird in there." The two of them leaned against the wall and tried not to eavesdrop, but they couldn't help but overhear.

"Hi, Wesley. How are you feeling? Oh. But it's not permanent, right?"

'Won't be once we get in there, sweetheart!' Buffy thought. 'Maybe we should wait until after we talk to that nurse… Oooh, what was her name?'

"I brought some of your stuff from the office. Things there are... well, things. Gunn and I found your notes about... the baby. The prophecy. You took him away 'cause you thought Angel was gonna kill him. You were trying to protect him. Both of them."

Buffy and Spike stared at each other in shock.

"Luv, the Junior Watcher must have thought Peaches was startin' up on chomping on little 'uns, again. What the bloody hell is going on?" Spike whispered. Before Buffy could reply, the young woman in Wesley's room continued her one-sided conversation.

"I just wanted you to know I understand that. I also wanted to say… What Angel tried to do to you was wrong, and I'm sorry. But he was right to blame you, Wesley.

"Spike," Buffy tightened her grip on his arm so much so he winced. "That nurse said someone tried to kill Wesley, do you think…?"

"Who knows, luv, we'll ask the Watcherboy once the bird's gone." He whispered back. Noticing her worried face, he smoothed his index finger over her cheek. "None of that, pet, it's not Angelus. The cheerleader would have phoned screaming for Red by now."

"You should've come to us. You should've trusted us instead of going to Holtz behind our backs."

Spike jumped at the sound of that familiar name. He remembered it from all the times Angelus cursed the vamp hunter for causing Darla, James, Elizabeth and himself so much trouble. Also, he remembered Darla gloating over the two of them draining his wife and children. He frowned, confused, 'but that was over a hundred years ago?'

"You were supposed to be our friend and you didn't even… If Angel sees you again, he'll kill you, Wesley. This time for real! Don't come back to the hotel. Ever." Fred tried to avoid looking at Wes, feeling a bit guilty at the shock in the silent man's eyes.

"The prophecy was a fake. Angel was never gonna hurt Connor. It was all for nothing." Fred turned and left the room, leaving Wesley lying there in shock. She slammed into Buffy as she swung out of the hospital room.

"Oops, sorry!" Fred giggled and steadied herself. "Didn't see ya'll there." Buffy glared at the tall Texan.

"No problem, just watch where you're going," she snapped back, her anger at what she had overheard colouring her words. "Excuse us." Fred looked at the blonde couple in surprise, then, walked off without a backward glance, a self-righteous air surrounding her. "Bitch!" Buffy snarled as she watched the tall girl's back, her protective instincts leaping to the fore. 'You never kick a man when he's down. Well unless he's evil!' Buffy thought as she tapped her well shod foot on the clean floor.

"So, do you think working for Peaches makes you end up being a sanctimonious prig like him?" Spike drawled as he walked into Wesley's room. Buffy stalked in after him, fury evident in her eyes. Wesley looked up in surprise at his two visitors.

"Hey, Wes, we come bearing gifts and pretty balloons." Buffy walked over to her ex-watcher, gently taking his hand and squeezing it. She smiled at the bemused man.

"Alright, mate?" Spike picked up the patient chart and quickly read through the notes. "Guess you can't answer me at the mo?"

Wes shook his head gently, trying not to re-open the deep cut on his throat. He pointed over at the stand next to the bed. Spike reached over and handed him the notepad and pen. Buffy eased herself onto the bed, not relinquishing the mute man's hand.

"Wes, we got your message. Well, the nurse's. Giles has left Sunnydale, he's…" Her eyes filled with tears. "He's staying in England. So, we thought that you wouldn't mind us coming. Hey, friendly faces are good when you're stuck in hospital, right?" She squeezed his hand gently and smiled at him. "If you don't want us here we can…" Wes shook his head carefully. "Okay, that's good then. You're stuck with us!"

Wes handed the pad over to Spike, who was now lounging in a chair, his legs spread. He squinted at the precise writing.

"I guess tiny writing is a Watcher thing, eh? Who am I?" Spike grinned wickedly. "Now brace yourself, mate. The name's Spike. I also go by William the Bloody."

Wes raised his eyebrows and then grinned, he gestured for the pad. Scribbling furiously on it for a few seconds he tossed it back at the vamp who was now watching him closely.

"Ahh, the eternal question. Descartes had a theory, but I guess that's not what you meant. Mate, wherever my heart goes, so do I." He gestured to the tiny blonde perched demurely on the bed. "Hope you haven't a problem with that?" His eyes flashed gold for a split second. Wes just smiled and raised his eyebrows, unimpressed by the testosterone oozing from the Vamp.

"Love, what about the potion Glinda whipped up for the Watcher?"

"Crap, I forgot. Hang on, Wes." Buffy scrabbled through her rucksack. With a sigh of relief, she brandished the small pot of ointment. "Here, um, we have to put this on your…" She gestured to the covered wound. Wes frowned at the two blondes, completely perplexed as to what they were talking about.

"It's ok, mate. Glinda's one of the White Hats. She mixed something up to sort you out."

'What?' He scribbled on the pad and held it up for both of them to read.

"Wes, it's really cool. It's a healing potion. Tara said it might not get rid of the scar, but she thinks it will heal you enough so that you can talk." Buffy pushed the small pot into the injured man's hand. Wes twisted the cover off and sniffed it.

'Heliotrope, Myrtle and Oil of Evening Primrose.' Wes couldn't identify any of the other ingredients by smell, but the potion seemed fairly innocuous.

"Glinda said it's a recipe she found in her mum's old book." Spike stood, walked over to the door and clicked it shut. "Won't do if we're interrupted, eh?"

"Wes? Do you want me to put some on?" Buffy asked. Wes contemplated the two of them. He was completely wrong footed. One minute he was devastated by Fred's attack, and now, both a Slayer and an infamous Master Vampire were mothering him! Certainly not something Watcher Training had prepared him for.

He nodded and closed his eyes.

"Here love, go wash your hands. Or better yet, slip on some of those enema gloves." Wes's eyes snapped open and he glared at the laughing peroxide blonde. "Now, now, Watcher. None of that! The ointment goes on the wound not up the arse!"

"Spike!" Buffy wapped him on the arm, trying not to grin at the look of horror on their prospective patient's face. She pulled on the afore-mentioned gloves and came back to the bed.

"Watcher, hold still while I get the bandages off. It may hurt a bit. Trust me, okay?"

Surprisingly, Wes did trust him and the girl that was fluttering nervously at his side. He trusted them a lot more than his so-called friends who had left him here alone. So he blinked his eyes in agreement and closed them. Spike reached over and began to gently peel the stained micro-pore dressings off. They pulled on the wound, causing Wes to wince occasionally.

"Oh!" Buffy gasped in shock. Finally, the surgically precise cut was revealed. It was not pretty. Blood oozed from one end where Spike had inadvertently pulled at one of the stitches. She exchanged a horrified look with her lover. They were both a little worried that the salve Tara had given them wouldn't be enough to heal the bleeding incision.

"Go on, pet. Gentle like." Spike encouraged the frozen Slayer. Buffy caught his eyes and nodded, grateful for his calm encouragement.

"Wes, it might be a bit cool and Tara said there would be a tingling sensation, so try not to move too much." She took a deep breath. Reaching into the pot, she scooped out some of the sweet-smelling concoction. Scrunching her nose delicately, she dabbed on some of the potion. When Wes twitched from the coolness, she paused, waiting for him to relax, and then continued working her way around his neck. All of this was done in silence. The only noises were those filtering under the door from the ICU.

"There. That's all of it. Buffy peeled off the gloves and dropped them and the empty pot into her rucksack. "Wes? You okay?" she asked. He opened his eyes and blinked at her. "I'll take that as a yes." She grinned at him and reclaimed his hand. Spike stood behind her, his eyes focused on the wound. Watching. Waiting. Then, gradually, a silver shimmer appeared. Wes gasped.

"Looks like Glinda's mojo's working." The two watched, mesmerised at the speed at which the wound knitted. "Can you talk yet, mate?" Wes swallowed, unnerved by the sensations emanating from the wound. He cleared his throat carefully; relieved when it didn't hurt. He smiled.

"Well, that certainly helped," he rasped.

"Wes! It worked!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Don't sound so surprised, pet," Spike snarked gently.

"Thank you. Both of you," Wes whispered.

Chapter 6

The silence in the Magic Box was broken only by the sounds of industrious cleaning. Tara had moved over to the bookshelves and was slowly and methodically replacing the books in alphabetical order. Anya was taking pictures of the damage for the insurance adjustor, whilst Xander was trying to repair some broken shelves.

“Shit!” Xander threw his screwdriver on the floor and stormed out. Anya and Tara looked at each other and then over at the door that Xander had just stormed out of.

“You go.”

“Anya, he’s your fiancé.”

“But he’s angry.” Anya whined.

Tara rolled her eyes at her friend. “Anya, he’s jealous and angry, but you have to remind him that there is more to his life than Buffy. You love him and he loves you. Please, you have to help him.”

“Look, I know he’s jealous. It hurts me that he is, but I know that we will be happy; he knows that, but...” Anya trailed off. She was tired, hurt and confused. She knew that Xander loved her, but she couldn’t understand why he fixated on Buffy to such a degree.

“I think,” Tara paused for a moment, “he needs Buffy. She helped him to become more than that drunk, Harris’s son, the boy that was bullied constantly and never achieved much at school. When Buffy came to Sunnydale and her world touched his, he finally counted for something. Now, Spike is posing a threat to him and his place in the world.” Tara looked over at the door and frowned. “Well, in his mind.”

Anya nodded. A flood of understanding filled her with Tara’s insight. “It’s like him being friends with Willow. She is bright and intelligent, so, by being her friend, he had an identity; the smart girl’s friend.” She paused and cocked her head to one side. “He’s drawn to strong women, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Anya, he is. He’s drawn to you. He loves you so much that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

“Are you saying I’m strong?” Anya’s voice quavered slightly.

“Anya, look at what you have done! You have a job, a good life, friends and a wonderful man who loves you. You did it all on your own. Of course, you’re strong.” Before Tara could say any more, Anya grabbed her in a bear hug and started to cry great, big, gulping sobs. “Shhh, it’s okay. Anya, don’t cry.”

Xander sat in the alley behind the shop. He really was furious with Buffy and Spike. He stared at his hands, calloused from his work and also from his night time forays into demon hunting. He looked at his wrist and traced the scar that ran up his arm to his elbow. Only Spike knew what it signified. That made him hate the vamp even more. Spike knew that Xander had been weak, but what was worse was that Spike had saved him.

He sighed, and then looked down at his feet. The summer she was dead, he had felt so alone, even though he had been surrounded by friends, but none of them had realised how empty he felt. Anya had been too absorbed in their engagement to notice that he had been hanging on by a thread.

He had tried to talk to Willow, but she had been too focused on Tara and getting that dammed sex 'bot working. Giles had been no help, either drunk or off singing in that weird hippy bar. Another absentee father! At least he hadn’t shown his affection by beating the crap out of his surrogate son, though the smell of alcohol on Giles’ breath had brought back too many childhood memories. So, he had stopped talking to Giles unless they were on patrol, and then limited it to the task at hand.

It was Spike who had discovered him. Right here in this alley. He’d come back from work one night to pick up Anya, when he had finally realised; Buffy wasn’t coming back! No more training sessions with the puffy suit. No more late night video sessions, pigging out on popcorn and pizza. No more Buffy saving him or the day. He had felt sick and so alone. When he had walked into the store, Anya had been with a customer. So he had headed out to the training room, the room he had helped set up.

A labour of unrequited love! A love that she hadn’t noticed. She had been excited. Yes, she had hugged him. But she hadn’t seen he had done it for her because he loved her and wanted her. A suitor’s gift, one that had not been accepted in the way he had envisioned. Standing in that empty room, he had suddenly felt really small. He shouldn’t have expected any more. He shouldn’t have hated her for not falling into his arms. He loathed himself at that moment, because he had wasted time hating her when he should have just enjoyed every precious moment Buffy had been in his life. Because it hadn’t been enough, she had died and left him.

That’s when he had snapped.

He had grabbed a knife off the weapons board that he had made and slipped it in his pocket. He had walked through the shop without looking at Anya who was still absorbed in her sale. He had slid around the side of the shop and into the alley. He had huddled against the wall and pulled out the knife. It had gleamed brightly in the moonlight. Mesmerised, he had twisted and turned the sharp blade, watching it reflect the pale light. He had rolled up his sleeve and pressed the blade against his wrist. If Buffy wasn’t here, then there really was no point. No point to anything. So he had slashed it up his arm, as deep as he could. Xander rubbed the scar; he could still feel the blood pouring down his arm as he had held it up. The dark ribbons of blood had trickled up his sleeve, and then his arm had felt heavy, so he had let it fall to the ground. Feeling dizzy and a little sleepy, Xander had closed his eyes and rested his head back against the brickwork... waiting.

“Oi! What the bloody hell are you playing at?”

Xander had opened his eyes and groaned. Spike had run towards him and pulled him to his rather unsteady feet.

“You nit! You selfish git!” Spike had growled, as he wrapped his long pale fingers around Xander’s wrist, stemming the flow.

“Hey, fangless. Have a freebie on me.” Xander had slurred. Spike had clenched his jaw, his blue eyes furious.

“Not going to happen. You’re not flaking out on my watch.” The blond vamp had snarled. Xander remembered watching, mesmerised, as Spike’s head had bent down, his tongue flickering out to lick the wound shut. The vampire’s saliva had sealed the cut efficiently. But what was worse than the failed attempt at suicide, was the shudder of arousal that had trickled down the weakened human’s spine. Xander had gasped and felt light-headed, and not from blood loss. He had avoided Spike’s knowing eyes and pulled his wrist free.

“Get off!” Xander had stumbled away.

“I will if you swear not to try anything stupid like this again.” Spike’s fingers had snapped out and captured Xander’s chin in a firm grip. “She wouldn’t want this. Don’t sully her memory by killing yourself. Please, they all need you! Okay? Promise or I’ll march you into demon girl and tell her right now.” Xander had pulled away from Spike’s cool grip.

“Okay, okay.” His shoulders had slumped. “I won’t try anything again, I swear.”

“Right.” Spike had lit a cigarette and filled his lungs with smoke. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” With that promise, the vampire had turned and walked away. “Come on, Red’s found something that needs killin’. Be a good way to vent all that sexual frustration you got going on there!” Xander had glared at Spike’s leather-clad back and followed him into the Magic Box. Whilst everyone was chatting he had disappeared into the toilet and wrapped his arm. None of them had noticed the cut. When Anya had asked later that night, he had passed it off as a work injury.

Spike had never mentioned the incident in the alley. For that Xander was grateful. But his embarrassment at being caught in a moment of weakness had made him even more aggressive towards the vampire. Sometimes it made him feel bad, ‘cause if Spike hadn’t have found him he would have bled to death or been a meal for a passing vamp.

But then he would remember the sensation of Spike's cool tongue caressing his arm from wrist to elbow and he would feel sick.

He tried to suppress the memories of Spike's knowing eyes looking up at him as he sealed the wound. He hated the vamp for so many things, mainly because he was a demon. A filthy demon had taken his boyhood friend from him. Jesse. He often wondered if Willow even remembered their dead friend. Blinded by his hatred, Xander often neglected to remember that Buffy was the reason he knew about demons. If he had, then maybe he would have hated her too.

Also, Xander's inner conscience whispered to him late at night that he loathed Spike, mainly because he was stronger, faster and also much better looking than him, but the angry, young man refused to accept his darker thoughts and midnight yearnings.

But most of all, Xander hated Spike for seeing him at his weakest, blood dripping from a self-inflicted wound for a woman who was dead and buried, who, even if she had been alive, would never have seen him as anything more than a friend or surrogate brother.

"Xander?" Anya's soft voice echoed down the alley. Xander ceased his contemplation of his scarred arm. Funny, he had thought he cut in one stroke, but there were shorter scars dotted on either side of the longer one. He’d never noticed them before. He usually ignored the scar, not wanting to recall his weakness or his reaction to Spike’s cool tongue. "Xander, are you down there?" Anya's high heels clicked loudly on the asphalt as she came towards him. "There you are! Come back to the shop, please."

"Go ahead, Ahn. I'll be there in a minute."

"No, now. You are worrying me. Come on." She reached over and pulled the reluctant man to his feet and they headed back to the store.

* * * * *

Wes lay in his hospital bed. Spike had replaced the bandage on his neck and was curled up with Buffy on the single chair left for visitors. All of them were trying to look innocent. A very puzzled intern, who finally assumed that the admission date on his patient's paperwork was wrong, had already seen Wes and signed him out of ICU. They were now waiting for Nurse Blanchett to remove Wes's IV and give them instructions for his meds and post-op care.

"I just don't understand. How could the intern let you out?" she fussed.

"Hey, we're just here to take the lucky bloke home!" Spike interjected.

"Yes, yes. I know. I am glad that you could come down and get him, Mr Giles."

Buffy giggled at the startled look on Spike's face, and then nudged him to keep silent. It was best that the hospital thought Spike was Giles, otherwise, there might be difficulties in getting Wes sprung.

"Yes, we really want to get Wes settled at his apartment. Will you be much longer?" Buffy chirped.

"Well, no. Here are his meds." The flustered nurse passed over several bottles and a sheet of paper with instructions for his meds and times for taking them. "That's really all. I can help him get dressed and then you can take him home." Wes's eyes widened at the thought of being dressed like a child by the large, butch nurse. Spike caught his reaction.

"It's all right, luv. I can help the patient with his socks!"

"Okay. I'll be back in a minute; I have to find a wheelchair. It's hospital policy." With that she turned and left the three of them alone.

"So Watcher, need any help getting your Y-fronts on?" Spike asked teasingly.

Wes pushed the sheets off and stood. He held the back of his gown shut, embarrassed that his former charge may have caught a glimpse of his posterior. "Boxers, you git," he rasped.

"Wow, you are getting better, Wes!" Buffy exclaimed, pleased that the ointment had worked its magic. She hurried over to the closet and pulled out Wes's street clothes which had been cleaned by the nursing staff. She tossed them over her shoulder. "It's okay, I won't peek!" She stared fixedly into the small closet. Spike stepped up behind her and draped his arms over her shoulders. Her hands reached up and caught his, their fingers threading together automatically. She laid her head back onto his chest and they waited. Behind them they could hear Wes rustling around.

"I'm decent."

The couple turned round. Buffy's eyes widened. She hadn't really registered the clothes she had tossed to Wes, but she had not expected him to look so tough.

"Where's the stuffy suit?" She asked, and then clapped her hand over her mouth, embarrassed that she had asked.

"I lost the suit a few years back, but if you want I can dig it out." Wes said teasingly.

"No. Huge improvement. No stuffiness needed here!" she muttered, her face flaming. She picked up the box Fred had left on the floor. "Spike, pass me all the stuff on the table." She quickly packed the meds and paperwork. Reaching for the gift bag they had brought, she laid it on the top of the box.

"Here we go! Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, your getaway wheels!" The large nurse reappeared. "Hop on!" Wes made a face, but he did get into the wheelchair. Buffy, with a large grin, reached over and handed him the helium balloons she had brought.

"Let's blow this pop-stand, Wes! Spike, can you bring the car ‘round?"

"I'll meet you out front." Spike disappeared out of the room.

"Spike?" Nurse Blanchett asked.

"Well, it’s actually Rupert, but he ended up being called Spike because of his hair." Buffy explained hastily, not wanting the nurse to think they were in a gang and that Wes's injury was gang related.

"Ahh," the confused nurse replied, as they headed for the elevator. The ride down to lobby was silent; they all watched the numbers count down. As the door slid open, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief; she could see the Desoto waiting by the hospital doors. No awkward questions or weird looks from the big scary nurse!

"There's the car. Um, I can help Wes from here." Buffy danced around to the front of the wheelchair and pulled Wes to his feet. She tucked his box under one arm and circled his waist with the other. "Lean on me," she hissed under her breath. Wes slumped into the Slayer's body and then waved to the nurse with his free hand. Nurse Blanchett watched the two of them walk out and approach the waiting car. Once she was sure that they were out of sight, she pulled out a mobile phone.

"Blanchett here. He's checked out. Blonde couple. I'll pull some images from the security cameras and bring them over. No, one of them visited earlier, a girl, skinny brunette. She was in and out fairly quickly. The two who left with him did exchange words, but they weren't familiar with the girl." She paused and watched the slim girl help Mr Wyndam-Pryce into the car. "Yes, one of them was Mr Giles; the girl, I have no idea. Do you want me to tail them?" She paused and listened to the voice at the other end of the phone. "No? There's someone else already on it? Right. I'll pick the tapes and head over to base. My pleasure, Miss Morgan." She switched the mobile off and headed for security.

"Wes, you ride shotgun. I'll sit back here." Buffy pushed the reluctant man into the darkness of the car. Spike grinned over from the driving seat.

"You know, there are tinted windows that can be fitted to block the UV rays. I'll call a contact and get them done when we get back to the flat." Wes returned his fellow Englishman's grin. "It'll save Buffy from dying of fright and also serve as a thank you for…" He gestured to his throat.

"No thanks needed, mate, though the lemon curd does have something to ask you." Spike jerked his thumb back at Buffy who was searching through her rucksack.

"What did you call me, Spike?"

"My bird?"

"Better. Don't start on the weirdo cockney slang again. I never know if you're insulting me. It's like when you called Xander a jam roll, I still can't get that one," she grumbled. "Yay! Found it." She leaned over and waved a pack of gum. “Wes?"

"It means arsehole," he rasped. "Pretty good description, though." The two Brits shared a look of mutual understanding. Their dislike of the mouthy male Scooby gave them common ground.

"What? The gum?" Buffy asked, confused. Realisation dawned and her eyes widened. "Oh! Jam Roll! Spike!" She clipped the now laughing vamp around the ear.

"Hey! Stop it." He swiped back good-naturedly, barely touching the pouting girl behind him.

"He's my friend." She folded her arms in mock anger.

"Well, excepting myself, I have always maintained you have appalling taste in men!"

"Well, Giles is alright, I suppose," Wes offered. He didn't defend his erstwhile employee, well aware that Angel was a sensitive subject for Buffy and also, he suspected, for Spike.

"Thanks." Buffy smiled primly at the scruffy watcher. She wasn't too surprised at his lack of defence for Angel, especially if he had tried to smother him in his hospital bed!

“Where are we headed, mate?” Spike squinted out of the window checking the traffic.

“Take a left, three blocks over, then right. That’s my street. Um, there’s no underground parking at my apartment.”

“S’alright. I’ll do the blanket rush, s’long as one of you hold the door open.” Spike spun the car off the main street and headed left. Buffy clutched grimly to the back of the seat and wedged her feet under the seat in front of her.

“Hold on tight, Wes! Spike, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, there’s a car tailing us! Hang on kiddies, time to play.” With that, Spike let out a roar of exhilaration. Wes scrabbled for a seat belt and came up empty. He raised his legs and braced himself on the dashboard. His foot caught the stereo, filling the car with music, playing at full blast.

Buffy peered over her shoulder and spotted the beige sedan.

“Floor it, Spike. They’re still behind us!” she gasped.

“On it!” Spike spun the car in a one eighty turn and the Desoto roared as he flattened his foot. It leapt forward and headed straight towards the sedan. He let out a battle cry as he vamped out.

“Like your taste in music! Very funny.” Wes remarked dryly. Spike flashed him a grin, his fangs glimmering in the darkened car.

“Well, I’m a funny guy.” He flicked on the headlights, trying blind the sedan driver. Buffy winced, remembering another vamp saying the same words to her years ago.

“Spike?” Buffy yelled over the music. “What are you doing?”

“Chicken! Let’s see if the ponces get out the way or take it like men.”

“Spike! Humans in the car here and there! Chip?”

“Bollocks.” He spun the car and shot down an alley, a swirl of newspapers blew in the trail of the rapidly vanishing black car. “Watcher, you fit for a bit of rough and tumble?”

“Yes, I think so. What have you in mind?” Wes asked.

“Bait and grab?”

“What? I thought it was bait and switch.” Buffy stated, her knuckles white as she steadied herself, her fingers biting into the smooth, worn leather.

“Now, luv, watch and learn.” Spike squinted into the rear view. “Right, they’re far enough behind; come on, end of the line. I wanna know who they are and why they’re following us. Ready, pet? ”

* * * * *

Tara sat down heavily at the counter, perched on one of the high stools. The gentle Wiccan was exhausted from all the work and lack of sleep and was coated in a fine layer of dust. Anya had just gone out to find Xander, so she had a moment to gather her thoughts. Spike and Buffy had been gone for a few hours and she was still reeling at her discovery.

She was still frazzled, and Anya’s chattering had not given her any time to formulate a plan. If Willow had indeed gone off the deep end, then measures had to be taken. She really didn’t want to have to do anything drastic; but Dawn was her responsibility until Buffy got back. Her hands moved in her lap and her lips moved.

‘It has to be done.’

She’d done it! Willow was barred from Revello Drive. She covered her face with her hands and cried.

“Tara? What’s wrong?” Xander’s voice startled her. She jumped off the stool, wiping her face.

“Nothing. Sorry, just tired and worried.”

“Worried about Spike and Buffy?”

“What? No!” Tara was surprised at his question. ‘He really is insensitive!’ “Why would I be worried about them?”

“Oh come on! It’s sick and twisted…” He trailed off at the expressions on both the girls’ faces. He rubbed his scarred arm and then walked off to the shelves he had been fixing.

“Xander, you need to let this go.” Tara walked over and pulled him around to face her. “I am tired of all of us judging each other. The pettiness and anger has to end. I am tired of it!” the normally quiet Wiccan shouted. “Buffy and Spike are a done deal. Get over it!”

“She’s right, darling!” Anya’s shrill voice interjected.

“What?” Xander’s jaw dropped.

“There is nothing you can do or say that will stop Buffy. She’s in love, and personally I don’t blame her, honey.”

“What! You like Spike?” Xander yelled, his face turning a really unhealthy shade of maroon.

“Well, he is attractive.” Anya stopped when she saw the expression of disgust on his face. “You said so as well!” she muttered defensively.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Well, not really...” He trailed off as he felt a ghostlike tickle of Spike’s lips and tongue on his scar, reminding him.

“Xander, if you carry on like this, Buffy will turn away from you,” Tara reasoned. “Please, you are her friend. Can’t you just try to be less vocal about her relationship?”

“Xander, baby. Please, we know you’re not happy. Spike and Buffy do as well, but enough is enough!” Anya looped her arm around his waist and rested her brightly coloured head on his shoulder. “The more you shout and yell, the more she is going to get stubborn about Spike.”

Tara nodded in agreement.

“There’s nothing I can do to change this joke of a relationship, is there?”

“No, Xander, but it isn’t a joke. Their auras match; it’s meant to be. Just try, please. She’s happy. Please don’t force her to make a choice. You may not he happy with the outcome.”

“Buffster’s happy? With him?” Xander’s lip curled in distaste.

“Yes. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile. This morning, Xander, she was laughing and joking. She seemed more alive, more alive than, well, since…”

“Since we brought her back. I get it Tara.” Xander’s free hand fisted tightly. “So what, we all play happy families now?”

“No. I can’t really see that happening. Be honest Xander, you’re not going to be able to stop with all the comments, are you?” Tara’s voice took on a motherly tone.

“No. I guess not.” Xander tried to smile but his anger prevented him. Anya glanced up at him. She could feel the tension in his thickening body.

“Honey, don’t be angry.”

With her soft words, Xander relaxed. Maybe they had a point. Buffy and Spike were a couple. He may not like it, but nothing he said would change their minds. He would have to wait and be ready to pick up the pieces. ‘A vamp and a Slayer, been there done that, screwed the corpses!’

“Okay. They’re a done deal. I get that! But I don’t have to like it,” he said soothingly.

“It’s okay, Xander. We are all aware you don’t like the idea of them,” Tara said wryly. She headed back to the counter, grabbed a broom and began sweeping.

* * * * *

Two figures cautiously approached the idling, black car. Three of the doors were open and the only noise that could be heard in the abandoned garage was the car engine.

“You see anything?”

“No. Maybe they split.”

“Now why would we bugger off and leave two such pretty boys, all wrapped up in skin-tight, black lycra, alone in such a dangerous place?” a pert, feminine voice asked from behind them. The two men spun around, reaching for their weapons.

“Ahaha, hands where I can see them.” Wes stepped up from behind, a crossbow pointed at them. “Hands up, please, gentlemen.” His voice was slightly rough, but firm.

The men hesitated. Before they could say or do anything, their eyes widened at the sight of Spike leaning on one of the pillars, cigarette dangling from his lips. What frightened them was the mace that he causally tossed from hand to hand. He grinned at them, secretly pleased at the fear he inspired.

‘Doesn’t happen that often. Usually my posturing is greeted with shrieks of laughter and then a sound thump to the nose.’ He smiled fondly at the proboscis molester and Buffy smiled back.

Their momentary distraction was all the two men needed. One spun around and kicked the crossbow from Wes’s hands and then launched himself the former Watcher. The other made the mistake of thinking Buffy could be used as a hostage.

Before her opponent launched his first punch, Buffy had ducked under his outstretched arm and spun behind him. She turned on her heel and hit him with a high kick him on the shoulder. Spike stood, watching the action unfurl before him. His frustration showed in every line of his form. He hated missing out on a fight.

“Surprise!” Buffy taunted as she punched the guy twice in the face, the final blow hitting the stunned man in the nose.

“Aaand he’s out!” Spike yelled, as he sprang forward to stand guard over the slumped figure. Buffy winked as she spun around to help Wes, only to stop and watch in complete surprise as Wes coolly sidestepped a lunge from his opponent. His pale blue eyes glittered with amusement as he dropped and swung his right leg in a semi circle. The black-clad fighter leapt over his leg, but before his feet could reconnect with the concrete floor, Wes was up and swinging. The two men exchanged blows, neither of them giving an inch. Buffy stepped forward to help, but was stopped by a firm hand; she looked up at Spike and he shook his head.

“He needs this, let him play.” Spike had noticed that Wes was toying with his hapless opponent, swift jabs followed by a flurry of roundhouse kicks, all of them slightly restrained.

“Why?” she asked, completely thrown.

“Luv, think. He’s just got out of hospital after being blindsided, having his throat slit and left for dead. He needs to know he can still hold his own. Give him a sec.”

Buffy looked at her lover with wide eyes; he was constantly surprising her with his sharp insight. She bit her lip and then nodded. She sat down firmly on the unconscious man’s chest and watched the fight unfold, casually punching the guy out when he regained consciousness.

“Be quiet, I’m watching. Also, stay down!” she grumbled, annoyed at the distraction. Spike laughed at her disgruntled face.

There was a crackle and a familiar smell of burning ozone. Wes’s opponent had pulled out a taser. This, however, didn’t inspire any fear in Wes; he raised a brow and, with a slight shift of his weight to one leg, he leapt and spun. His foot connected with the black clad man’s temple and the fight was over.

“Well, balls! Now we have to wait for one of them to wake up.” Spike threw his half-smoked cigarette to the floor in frustration. He leaned over and yanked Wes’s erstwhile opponent up and dragged him over to where Buffy still sat. “Bruce Lee, there’s some rope in the trunk. Could you do the honours?”

“Aw, honey, are you cross you missed out?” Buffy pouted up at Spike who laid the second man down. “Don’t worry. You get first dibs on the next three vamps we come across, okay?” She stood and patted Spike’s arm. He rested his forehead against hers.

“I just don’t like missing out!” he grumbled and then pouted playfully at her.

“Have you two quite finished?” Wes stepped up and handed over the rope he had found. Spike nodded and then knelt down and tied the two men up quickly. He eyed the fallen taser and grinned. He loped over and grabbed it, switching it off and pocketing it.

* * * * *

Mike opened his eyes and groaned. He couldn’t feel his hands or feet. He tried to raise his head, but the Doc Martin firmly placed on his neck prevented that. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the still form of Joe, who was hogtied. ‘Guess that explains the numbness of my feet and hands.’

“Oh lookie, Wes, sleeping ugly’s awake and I didn’t have to give him a kiss, thank god!” Spike pressed his foot down, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain in his head. ‘Bloody chip! Always spoils everything.’

“So, Lilah sent you?” Wes dropped to his knees and held out his hand; Joe’s mobile lay in his palm. Its call listing had betrayed them. “Why?”

Mike shut his eyes and shook his head. “Nothing to say.”

“Are you sure? Because the blond gentleman standing on your neck is just waiting for an excuse to see what sort of damage a taser can do to your nervous system.”

“What do yah mean, asshole?” Mike shouted.

“Can’t you feel it?” Wes sneered. Mike froze as he felt something press firmly at the base of his spine. He ignored the feminine giggle, as sweat trickled down his face.

“Are you guys crazy?” Joe yelled.

“Ah! Your associate has finally joined us!” Wes settled back on his haunches and watched the man tied in front of him quiver with fear. “So, before my friend’s fingers get tired, let’s try this again. Why did Lilah Morgan send you after us?”

“Don’t know nothin'.” Mike muttered bravely; he winced as the pressure from the taser increased. A pair of slim sandaled feet appeared in his field of vision. His eyes followed the slender lines of her legs, up to a pretty face that was glaring down at him.

"Wes, ever wonder what happens to a bloke's brain if you hammer his spine every half inch with a taser blast?" Spike asked. Buffy shifted her weight and knelt down; she pulled Mike's head up by his hair. Wes shifted out of his eye line.

"Hey. One last chance before I let these guys off their leash. Why are you stalking us? Why is what’s her name interested in us and hey, do you think you'll be able to do this kind of work without your fingers?"

Mike closed his eyes; he could hear Joe's harsh breathing and the drip of water hitting the concrete somewhere in the distance. "Nothing to say, you twisted bitch!" he yelled.

"Okay! Really shouldn't have called me names." As the blonde girl said this, Mike heard an angry roar. It sounded like a lion. Then he felt pain as 1000 volts of electricity travelled up his spine. 'Oh shit!' was his last thought. Then, he passed out. Wes handed the taser over to Spike with a wry grin.

"Thanks, mate. The git's not worth the headache." Spike stood up and walked over to Joe, who had passed out in a pool of his own urine. Spike flipped him over with his foot. Grimacing at the acrid smell, he stepped back. "I think this one'll break first, now that he's seen what we'll do. Hang about! Got an idea. Luv, in the cool box, grab me that half finished bottle of pig's blood." Buffy dug through the ice box while Wes and Spike dragged Mike away and stashed him in the trunk of his car.

Spike frowned as he recalled his love’s taunting words to their captive. "Oi, Slayer, I am not on a lead! Give us that." He pointed at the half filled jug of blood. She tossed it over with a kiss. He stalked off and began pouring blood over the area where Mike had lain. He then emptied a bit more over his hands and rubbed it up to his elbows. Wes stepped over and held out his hands, palms upwards.

"Sneaky bastard, aren't you?" Wes commented as he dabbed the blood over his arms and a bit on his face and Spike's.

"Yeah! Have to be quick on yer feet around that one." He gestured with his thumb at Buffy, as she watched the unconscious man.

"Wes, how come you haven't called that Lilah woman and asked her what she is up to?" Buffy queried. She glanced at her nails, wondering when she would be able to fit in a manicure.

"I will, but I want to see what these idiots have to say, as well."

"Fair enough." She shrugged and returned to contemplating her nails. "Spike, sweetie? You better get some blood on the weapons as well, oh, and maybe a gag on the guy in the trunk. You don't want him waking up halfway through Masterpiece theatre and ruining your fun."

"Yes, dear." Spike trotted away, mumbling under his breath about smart-arsed Slayers and how easy his life would be without them. But not nearly as much fun!

"You have him well trained," Wes remarked, as he stood next to the tiny woman.

"Hardly! He only agrees when it suits him. But nowadays we are usually on the same page. So bonus! Also, there’s less with having to pound him in the head to get him to do what I want." She looked over at her erstwhile watcher and hesitated.

"What is it Buffy?" Wes asked gently. "Spike mentioned that you wished to ask me something, then all this happened and well, you didn't have a chance to say anything." Spike was listening as he gagged the still supine man in the trunk of the car. So he took his time, knowing that the request had to come from Buffy.

"Well..." Buffy looked down at her toes, embarrassed and slightly worried at Wes's reaction to what she was about to broach with him. Wes smiled at her; he suspected what she may be about to ask and, at the moment, was more than happy to consider her offer. He needed a change. With Wes's encouraging smile, she ploughed on.

"Wes, well look, I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but last time I saw, well you know who…" Spike tried to suppress a jealous growl at her reference to the great big, hulking poofter and failed. Buffy grinned at Spike's reaction, which relaxed her slightly. "He said you had changed; also that you were a good fighter and friend. I guess, I don't know much about what happened here in LA, but if you want to talk we are both here, but I wanted to know if you'd like to come back with us to Sunnydale? Giles is gone and weeeell… I need the help; we all do. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I really wanted you to know, we would love it if you came with us. Also, it's not much, but we can squeeze you in the house, there's the sofa. That's if you just wanna come up and have a look round see what you think. Also the offer of the sofa is there if you do move back, until we can re-arrange everyone." Buffy stopped babbling when Wes grinned and nodded.

"I would be interested, but maybe when we get back to the flat I could fill you in on why I am suddenly a pariah at AI. You may change your mind."

"Wes, have you looked at who my lover is? One quarter of the Scourge of Europe. Do you really think anything you could say would freak me out or put me off you coming to Sunnydale? Heck, their loss is our gain. You need to know we would be real happy to call you friend. Everyone needs good friends, and I have a feeling we may end up that way.” She paused for a much needed breath. “Jeez, look how much you've changed since high school! We all have done a bit of growing up. So, okay, I’ll wait and talk some more, but I want you to know that I'm in your corner! Also Spike, I think." The vamp nodded as he squatted down, resting his bloodstained hands on his knees, carefully avoiding his jeans.

"Look, mate, we haven't really got to know each other yet, but I'm game if you are."

Wes nodded, overcome by the ease with which these two dynamic individuals offered their friendship. Especially Buffy. She seemed ready to put their earlier, strained, working relationship behind her and extend a hand of friendship. 'She really has grown into an amazing, young woman.'

"What's going on? Where's Mike?" Joe screamed, once he noticed the blood on the man called Giles. His eyes widened when he saw that his partner was missing and that there was only a pool of blood where he once lay. "Oh man, no, whadda you do to him? He's got kids, you bastards!" Wes moved into the terrified man's field of vision, and wiped his blood stained hands together. "Oh god, no, no, no, I don't want to die. Please no, I'll tell everything, please!"

"Well, that's an improvement. Start talking." Buffy grinned in relief. She had been worried that their charade wouldn't work. If it hadn’t worked, she had no idea as what to do next to get the schmuck talking.

"The nurse, she works for W & H; Lilah sent her to spy on you. She wanted to know what the situ was. We were only to follow and gather intel; she didn't say anything about torture and blood. Oh god, god, god, Mike, you poor bastard."

"Why does W & H have an interest in me?" Wes snarled.

"They wanna recruit you; you know, cos of all the inside info’ you have on the bloodsucker. They figured since you'd been cut loose, you could work for them. Also, what with the souled freak trying to kill you, my bosses figured there'd be no love lost between you and your old boss." Spike grinned at the man's description of the brooding git, the satanical smile on his face prompting the babbling man to continue. "That's all I know, I swear! Please don't kill me…" Before he could beg anymore, Wes knocked him unconscious.

"Well, I'm disappointed they weren't interested in me," Buffy pouted, as she pulled the unconscious man over to his car and dumped him in the back seat. She bent over and untied his hands, figuring that by the time he was conscious again, they would be long gone. Wes stood, frowning, pondering over the babbled confession.

"You okay?" Spike asked.

"Yes, come on. Let’s get going." He pocketed the cell phone they had taken from Mike and headed for the car. "Have you anything I can clean my hands on?"

Spike rummaged through the trunk of the car; he tossed over a bottle of water and some cleanish rags. "Just save me some." Once the two men were cleaned up as best they could, they joined Buffy in the Desoto. "You going to ring that bird now?"

"Umm, yes. I am amazed that she and her law firm would think that I would betray all that I have fought for all these years to work for them!" Wes pulled out the phone and scrolled down to ‘Morgan Lilah’ and pressed the call button. "I mean, really, the arrogance!" His accent became crisper as he spoke. Buffy and Spike smiled at each other but kept quiet, curious to hear what the fuming man had to say.

"Ahh, Miss Morgan. No, I am sorry. This isn't Mike. He and his friend are a little indisposed at the moment. Language, Lilah! Really, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Wesley grinned at the expletives that were issuing out of the earpiece. "A moment of your time, please. From what the two gentlemen said, you and your company have been showing an inordinate amount of interest in my well-being. This will not do! Sending a woman in to spy on me as I was recovering. Shame on you." Wesley tutted disapprovingly into the mouthpiece. "However, what I found most interesting was that you seemed to think that I would abandon all my ideals and join Wolfram and Hart. How shallow do you think I am?" Wesley paused and drew breath listening carefully to the vitriol Lilah spouted. He paled at something she said, causing Buffy to reach over and squeeze his arm in support. He smiled gratefully. "Allow me to interrupt you for a moment, Miss Morgan. I am not now, nor will I ever be, interested in working for you or your company. If you send anyone else after me, I shall kill them! Do not try to contact me again. Good day." With that he closed the phone and tossed it out of the open car door.

"Way to go, Wes!" Buffy exclaimed.

"I mean, really, how insulting, that after one set back they would expect me to join them." Wesley huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, shall we get you back to your flat?" Spike asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Yes, let’s get out of here. You are both welcome in my home." Wes deliberately phrased his invitation to allow the vampire access to his apartment. Spike raised his eyebrows but said nothing as they drove out of the garage.

* * * * *

Lilah tossed her cell phone onto her desk with a sigh. She pulled out the Wyndam-Pryce file and flicked through it.

‘Useless lackeys, they’d better not turn up here or I will have them flayed alive.’

She rested her head in her hand and flipped through her notes.

“There must be another way to recruit the English bastard…”

“Come in, please.” Wes unlocked his apartment door and gestured for his companions to enter. Spike nodded his thanks as he sauntered in. It was unnecessary, but he appreciated the sentiment.

“Wes, I think you’ve had a break in.” Buffy gestured at all the paperwork that had been upended by Gunn and Fred during their search. He frowned in puzzlement at the mess.

“No, luv. Not a robbery, the telly and stereo are still here. Also, Watcher boy’s books are still here. Some of them are worth a pretty penny, I’d imagine?"

“Yes, they are.” Wes quickly scanned the shelves. Nothing was out of place.

Spike wandered over to the desk and rested his hands palm downwards. “There’s no one in here but us. There is a trace of two humans, days old. A bloke and...” He paused the other faint scent was familiar, but he couldn’t place it, then realisation dawned. “…That bird from the hospital.”

“Fred?” Wes supplied, a little uncomfortable that she had been in his home, searching through his notes. “The rubbish! Excuse me for a sec. I just want to confirm my suspicions.” He dashed out of the apartment.

“He’s worried that they stole the trash? Man, you British guys are weird!” Buffy flopped onto the sofa. She kicked off her sandals and crossed her legs. “Note to self, don’t wear high-heeled sandals.” Spike sank down next to her and pulled her feet into his lap, causing Buffy to fall onto her back. “Mmm! Nice!” she sighed as Spike began to massage her sore toes; his long fingers rubbing her soles gently.

“Relax, pet. Let Spike take care of you,” he crooned as his fingers worked their magic. She sighed and closed her eyes.

“They’re gone!” Wes announced breathlessly as he entered the front door.

“What, mate?”

“My notes on the prophecy, which explains how Fred knew. The rubbish isn’t collected ‘til Monday, so it all should have been there.”

“What prophecy?” Buffy propped herself up on her elbows and eyed the agitated man. “Come on, Wes. Make with the spillage!”

“Let me get something for us to drink; coffee, tea or a soft drink? Then, I’ll explain everything.”

“Coffee,” Spike replied. “Also, maybe you should invest in a shredder. I mean, there are things a bloke doesn’t want read…” He promised himself to hide his journals and books of scribbles before Buffy got her mitts on them.

“I’ll have a soda. Anything’ll be fine. You need some help?” Buffy offered.

“No, you two, relax. It’s nice to be moving around after the enforced bed rest.” He disappeared into the kitchen. “Well, I suppose that the interrogation was a bit of fun too…”

“Fun? I think I could get to like this bloke,” Spike commented as he trailed his fingers up to her ankles and began to manipulate them deftly.

“Oooh! Don’t stop, please!” Buffy groaned. She stretched lithely and pressed her feet onto Spike’s thighs.

“I brought some nibbles in case you were hungry. No blood, though. I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, there’s some in the cooler. I’ll have some later.” Spike smirked at the ex-watcher.

Buffy sat up and gratefully took the cold Dr Pepper from Wes. He then poured the coffee for the two of them and passed a mug over to Spike.

“There’s sugar. I’m afraid the milk had become a new life form!”

“Black’s good. Thanks.” Spike cradled the warm mug in one hand and reached for some biscuits.

“You eat?” Wes asked in a surprised voice.

“Yeah, I like food. What of it?”

“Angel never eats.”

“Well, he is into self-flagellation. ‘Course he’s not gonna eat. He might enjoy it!” Spike dunked an Oreo and then ate it in one bite. “So tell us a story, then.” He threw an arm around Buffy and pulled her close, silently offering his support. She snuggled into his side.

“Where to begin? Buffy, I’m not sure as to how much you know about what has happened here in LA over the last few years. Angel didn’t care to elucidate on his meeting with you a few months back. So I doubt he was forthcoming as to what he has been through recently.”

“Nope, he basically said you guys were fighting the big fight. That’s about it.” She shrugged and took a sip of her drink, reached for some pretzels and began nibbling. “It’s okay, Wes. I won’t break. I knew he was hiding something when I last saw him. He seemed real uncomfortable and was happy to leave. It kinda hurt, but when doesn’t it hurt around him?” She looked at both men as they nodded. Each of them had first hand experience of life with Angel.

“Well, that explains why you didn’t want the others to know what had happened, pet.” Spike smoothed her fair hair back, his fingers lingering in the curls.

“Well… where to begin? As you know, Cordelia works with Angel?" Wesley queried. At the mention of the seer Buffy grimaced. There was no love lost between the two young women. She had never understood why Angel had offered Cordelia a job. Wes noted her reaction but didn’t say anything. He doubted that the knowledge of Angel’s infatuation with the brunette would sit well with the Slayer, even though she had moved on to someone he suspected was much better for her. She appeared happier and more relaxed.

“She has become quite a wonderful woman.” He smiled at Buffy’s choked laugh. “She inherited visions from a colleague who sadly died, a Mr. Doyle.”

“Short, Irish chap?” Spike asked.

“Yes, you met him?” Wes was curious as to what Spike had made of the half-demon. The only information he had about Doyle was coloured by Angel and Cordy’s reminiscences. He had, for a long time, felt as if he had to measure up to the fallen hero.

“Alright bloke, smelled like a demon and a hell of a lot of booze. He is… was a pretty good mate of the Poof’s. I didn’t really get to know him well. Was too busy enjoying Granddad getting his arse kicked.” Spike refrained from mentioning that he had an active role in the torture. Buffy knew the score and that was that. He had mentioned it during one of his drunken ramblings, and the Slayer had belted him one. He winced at the memory. So, that was the end of it. He wasn’t sorry!

“Right!” Wes was disappointed. He had hoped for more. “She had a few problems with the pain of the visions, so she became part demon in order to survive.”

“Thought she was a demon anyway,” Buffy bitched.

Wes tried not to smile. He was aware of Cordelia’s behaviour in the past. “Yes, well… Last year, Angel lost focus.”

“Was this after Buffy...?” Spike couldn’t say it.

“When I died?” Buffy stated calmly.

“No, I am afraid it was before that. You see, Darla was brought back to life. She and Wolfram and Hart started a campaign to remove Angel’s soul.” He ignored the expression of surprise and shock about Darla’s return on Buffy’s face, and noted that Spike was unmoved. He made a note to ask the vampire how much he already knew when they had a more private moment. He didn’t want to cause an argument between the couple. “Darla was human; it was a spell that was used to revive fallen evil. Unsurprisingly, she was still evil even with a soul, though from what Angel told me, before Dru got her teeth into her and turned her again, she had been making steps in the right direction.”

“Wait! Dru turned Darla? So Darla is back and killing?”

“Well, no. She is dead, but before you interrupt, allow me. Angel became very dark as a result of Darla influencing his dreams. Once he realised she was not a figment, he become more disassociated from us. He eventually fired the three of us.”

“Three?” Buffy interrupted.

“Myself, Cordy and Gunn; the chap that was probably here in my flat.”

“Oh, Angel never mentioned him.”

“And that surprises you, pet? It sounds like he kept a hell of a lot to himself,” Spike snarled.

Wes continued. “Once we were gone, he had no constraints. He locked Darla and Dru in a wine cellar with a group of lawyers from Wolfram and Hart. Lilah and one other survived. He eventually returned to us, and asked to work for the three of us. For a while, everything ran a bit more smoothly. There is more. However, I would rather get to the crux of the matter.” Wes paused and took a sip of coffee. His throat ached from all the talking. He rubbed the healed cut gingerly. “Buffy, about six weeks ago Darla returned and, well, she… I am sorry about this. She was heavily pregnant.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. Vamps can’t get knocked up!” Spike exclaimed. Buffy paled and turned to Spike.

“Was it Angel’s?” she whispered, her face ashen. Wes nodded. Bile rose in her throat. “I think I’m gonna puke!” Spike rubbed her back soothingly, whilst Wes leaned over and took her icy cold hands in his.

“I am sorry to be the one to tell you this. Really! Angel should have called and explained the situation once everything settled down. However, I am unsurprised. He doesn’t appear to like to face the consequences of his actions at all!”

“A baby? Darla’s baby!” Buffy murmured.

“Pet, what are you thinking?”

“Poor Kid! Darla for a Mom and Angel for a dad!” Buffy muttered.

Spike laughed. “Pet! That was exactly what I was thinking!”

Her answer had surprised both men. They had expected tears and angst, but after the initial shock, she was surprisingly unaffected by Wes’s announcement. She and Angel had gone their separate ways, him more so than her by the sounds of it, but she looked over at Spike and realised that it didn’t matter. Angel could have a Brady Bunch of kids and she wouldn’t care, not as long as she had Spike. He was her future.

Her lover.

Best-friend.

Sparring partner.

Second-in-command.

Most importantly, family!

He and Dawn.

She laughed.

Spike frowned. He had expected her to be broken up about this. Instead, she continued laughing.

“Buffy are you alright?” Wes asked.

“Yes! Wow! I am really all right. Weird, huh? You guys probably expected tears and tantrums. Spike, I’m really over him,” she breathed. Spike pulled her close and kissed her gently. He drew back and returned her glorious smile with a big grin.

“That you are, luv.”

“It’s because I know that what we have is real.” Her fingers trailed over Spike’s face, memorising his features by touch. “It’s not some teenage crush like Angel. Well, I guess I’m not a teenager anymore, but you know what I mean. Angel, he was all dark and mysterious. Course, I was gonna get all hot and bothered over him. Then he left and I thought my heart would never recover, but I realise now that deep down I knew it would never work!” She felt a huge weight drop off her shoulders and for the first time in years she felt free of her past. Buffy knew that a huge part of that was because of the vampire holding her so tightly. She put her hand on his cheek and softly caressed him. “I love you.” Spike shivered in response to her words. He couldn’t get enough of her saying that.

Wes cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable at what he was witnessing, but also fascinated. He was witnessing the end of Buffy’s relationship with Angel. He wryly wondered if Angel would be pleased to hear that his so-called ‘soul mate’ had dismissed their relationship so easily. ‘No, he would be pissed off as hell.’ Wes knew that, secretly, Angel enjoyed the whole romanticism of a Slayer loving a souled vampire. His former associate had thrived on the brooding and angst that the doomed affair had produced. ‘He got a lot of mileage out of his self-sacrifice and self-imposed exile to LA.’ Wes recalled the fury that Angel had tried unsuccessfully to hide once he discovered that Buffy had become involved with fellow student at UC Sunnydale. He had never mentioned it or raised the subject with the prickly vampire on his return from Sunnydale, preferring not to open that Pandora’s Box!

“Wes, you still with us or have we grossed you out?” Buffy waved her hand in front of the musing Watcher’s face.

“No, still here. Just relieved that you’re not upset!”

“Nope, thanks to Spike and a whole lot of growing up!” she chirped. “So, come on. Is there more?”

“Yes, sadly, there is. Darla, yes, well she appeared carrying Angel’s son. However, an old protagonist of Angel’s had returned. A Mr. Holtz.”

“Mojo?” Spike asked.

“Yes, he made a deal with a demon named Sahjian, who brought him through time. Spike, did you know this man?” the Watcher in Wesley couldn’t resist asking.

“No, he was before my time, but Peaches and Great-Grandmum couldn’t resist pulling out old war stories. From wot I remember, they slaughtered his entire family, vamped the little girl, feasted on the wife and a baby. From what they said, the poor sod lost it, chased them all over Europe and I think North Africa. He did catch up with the Poof in Rome. Him and some extremist Papal sect. I think they were an offshoot of the Inquisition. They beat the crap outta him until Darla turned up and saved his arse.” Spike shrugged. “Think that’s about it.”

“Interesting… Angel only mentioned a few bits and pieces. I think there was a confrontation in Marseilles or some other French port as well. I digress. Holtz was determined to destroy Angel, not surprisingly.” Wes drank some of his cooling coffee. “He appeared at the Hyperion and managed to capture Angel. However, Angel escaped and was there when Darla sacrificed herself in order to enable Connor’s birth. She staked herself.”

“Bloody Hell! Darla staked herself! Why?” Spike couldn’t believe that the blonde Hellbitch would do anything so noble without reason.

“Well, she was affected by carrying a souled child. She loved him and killed herself to save his life,” Wes whispered. He still found it amazing that a 400 year-old vampire had found the strength to place another’s survival above her own.

“Everything was good for a while, until I discovered a prophecy. It took me a while to translate it. What I discovered horrified me. I tried to disprove it. I combed the city for seers and consulted an Oracle. They all agreed with me. The Father would kill the son.”

“Angel killed Connor?” Buffy gasped.

“No.” Wes braced himself. He knew that once they discovered his actions they would be horrified and disgusted. “No, I took Connor. I was going to take him away from all of this and raise him. I wanted to give him a life where there were no demons. I failed. Holtz and his followers duped me with their lies. One of them, Justine, approached me when I was making my escape. She had been beaten. I tried to help her but she slit my throat.” He gestured to his healing neck. “She took Connor to Holtz, leaving me to bleed to death.” Wesley looked up from his mug for the first time. He didn’t want to see the contempt and censure in their eyes. He blinked. There was none, only compassion and encouragement. He had to ask, “You’re not appalled by my actions?”

“No. Why should we be? You were trying to save a baby,” Buffy answered. A thin frown line appeared between her eyebrows.

“Yeah, you did what was best, mate. The bird blindsided you!”

“I took Connor from his father.”

“And?” Buffy asked. “Hey, if I found that prophecy, I would have come down here and grabbed the kid and run as well!”

“Really?”

“Darn straight. I’d have got Spike to be the getaway driver and headed for Canada!”

“Canada? Why Canada? It’s cold, it rains a lot and it’s full of those helpful Mounties! Sod that! We’d have gone to Mexico! Margaritas and you, all suntanned and covered in coconut oil… luscious!” He waggled his dark eyebrows at the blushing girl next to him. Wes smiled in appreciation for Spike’s attempt to ease his tension. He felt even more grateful towards the two of them. They had healed his external hurts and were now trying to heal his internal scars. “I am guessing there’s more to this? We heard that Fred bird having a go at you in the hospital.”

Wesley cleared his throat, embarrassed that they had overheard Fred’s bedside confrontation. “You heard all of it?” His audience nodded. Buffy blushed, flummoxed that Spike had revealed their eavesdropping. “I am not too sure what happened, but it appears that Holtz managed to escape into another dimension with Connor. What’s worse, it appears that the prophecy was a fake, planted by Sahjian. I made a mistake.” His voice wavered.

“We all make mistakes. Wes, you didn’t know,” Buffy interrupted.

“All you did was act on the information you had. You did the right thing, Watcher,” Spike interjected. “So now, ‘cause of what happened, you’re out of the club?” Wes nodded. “Bollocks to that!”

“Angel tried to kill you? Why?” Buffy asked tentatively, unable to believe that Angel would do anything like that. “You were only trying to help.”

“He tried to smother me. Some orderlies pulled him off me. Then, Fred came back with my things... Well, you heard the rest.” Wes slumped back in his armchair, exhausted from his confession. He ached all over, his throat throbbed and he wanted to crawl into his bed and sleep. He was on edge, surprised at both of them, their compassion and understanding. He, finally, felt that there might be hope for him. The despair and loneliness he had felt in the hospital was gradually easing.

“Wes, you look tired out. Maybe you should get some rest?”

“I could do with a snooze, Buffy.” He stretched his arms and cracked his back. “If you like, the two of you are welcome to stay here. I have a spare room.” They nodded in appreciation. After the drive and the day’s events they needed some sleep! “Come on, I’ll get you both settled. If you’re not tired, there’s books and, of course, the TV.” Wesley stood slowly, tiredness suffusing his entire being.

“Wes, the offer to come with us to Sunnyhell is still on the table,” Buffy said as she and Spike followed him into his guestroom. “I really hope you’ll think about it.”

“I’d be honoured to help you in Sunnydale. Of course, I’ll come with you.”

Spike paused before following Buffy into the bedroom. He turned to Wesley. “You need any help settling in?” He hefted their duffle bags and waited for a response.

Wesley shook his head. “No thanks, I’ll be fine.”

“Right, then, holler if you need something.” With that Spike left the bemused man and disappeared after Buffy.

* * * * *

“I want him and his new buddies under observation 24-7. No contact. I want intel. I want to know what he eats, when he sleeps and what he does! No failures.” Lilah eyed the two mercs that the Senior Partners had sent to her. She had seen a lot, but this… They gave her the creeps. She suppressed a shudder as the Exploro Demons nodded impassively. Their translucent skin absorbed all the light around them, and gradually they began to shimmer and disappear.

“Hey! Come back. No vanishing in this office.” Lilah snapped her fingers impatiently, her blood red fingernails contrasting brightly with her navy trouser suit. When the two demons reappeared, she relaxed. “I want daily updates. You have all my numbers. You discuss this with no one but me, otherwise I will report you to the SPs and let them deal with you...” She trailed off and arched an immaculate eyebrow at them, enjoying their obvious terror at her implied threat.

She stiffened as one of them spoke to her.

“Hey! If I wanted you in my head, I would have said so. You will not speak to me telepathically unless I agree. You have mouths… Well, they look like mouths. Unless ordered otherwise, use them!”

“Apologiessss, Mistress. We will not fail you.” The one who spoke bowed and then gestured to his companion and they left.

“Well, they were just nasty! How delicious.” Lilah turned to her paperwork and began preparing for her next court appearance. The Exploro demons were pushed to the back of her mind as her eyes ran down the bribe list for the jurors.

* * * * *

“Hey, guys! Come to help. Holy hell! What a mess!” Dawn exclaimed as she dropped her schoolbooks and bag on the table. She looked around the shop in dismay.

“It’s much better than it was this morning, sweetie,” Tara called from the gallery. “Anya, I think it’s done up here… and, Dawn, no swearing please!”

“Wonderful, I think everything should be finished in a few hours. I have compiled a list of all the pieces destroyed. It’s running into thousands.” Anya glanced up from her paperwork. The claim forms were almost complete. The underwriter had taken one look at the shop and just handed over the relevant forms. Promising his help in ensuring the claim was processed quickly, he had shot off, out of the shop, into the afternoon sunshine. “Tara, do you think I can get away with claiming loss of income for today?”

“I don’t see why not, Ahn,” Xander offered, trying to soothe his fiancée’s frazzled nerves. He smiled hesitantly, trying to get a similar response from his girl. She ignored him, unable to forgive him for his earlier behaviour. He was disgusted with himself, but he had no idea as to how to fix everything. ‘It’s all Spike’s fault!’ he thought bitterly.

At one point during the day, Anya had discovered that an antique cauldron, valued at $6,000, had melted into a puddle. She had promptly burst into tears and then proceeded to scream and shout at Xander when he tried to calm her down. Tara had diplomatically vanished, ostensibly to get some sandwiches and drinks.

By the time Tara had returned, neither of the couple were talking or even looking at each other.

She had tempted Anya into the training room by shaking a bag of Hershey’s Kisses in front of her. The former demon had simply burst into tears.

Weeping, she explained that Xander was not being sympathetic and that he was more concerned about Buffy’s love life than her work. They had fought, shouted and screamed. Anya had accused Xander of being a pathetic loser, always hanging onto Buffy, and said that she, Anya, was a substitute for the slayer. Having touched a real nerve with Xander, he had exploded. He had grabbed hold of Anya and shook her, screaming that she should shut up. Before anything else could happen, Anya had beaten him to the punch and kicked him in the balls.

Tara had been horrified that Xander had shaken Anya. She had wondered about his mental stability as she had rocked her weeping friend. Drying Anya’s face, she had offered her a bed for the night at Buffy’s, just in case she needed a break from Xander. Anya had agreed quickly, relieved that she would be able to get away from Xander for the night. Tara knew that the distraught girl still loved Xander, but on top of the damage to the shop, his behaviour had pushed her too far. She felt maybe a girly night in with Dawn and her would be for the best.

“Hey, maybe you could have a sale for the damaged pieces that can be rescued?” Dawn suggested. “I mean, it’s better than chucking it all out. Claim on the insurance and sell them at a discounted price. That way money in the pocket! Hey, maybe you can get some people in ‘cause of the sale signs. Bonus. New customers!” Dawn spun and headed over to Tara, who had climbed carefully down the ladder, and hooked her arm through hers.

“Dawn! What brilliant ideas! Very sound business acumen. Thank you.” Anya grabbed her notebook and began marking the pieces that she would put on sale. Xander smiled at Dawn in thanks, but the teen just ignored him as she turned to Anya.

“So… What do yah want me to start on?”

“Oh, well… The display shelves in the front need straightening. We have empty spaces. This will not do! Use the items I had Xander bring up from the basement.”

“Anya, we’ll have to head off soon. I need to pick up Miss Kitty and get Dawn home to William and Anne...”

“Who?” Xander interrupted as he ambled over wiping his hands on his jeans.

“William and Anne. Spike gave them to me and Buffy!”

“Oh great! What are they? Some sort of weird demon pet that’ll suck your brains out when you’re asleep?” he shouted.

“No, they’re kittens and even if they were demons, you’d be safe!” Dawn shouted back at him.

“What? Why?”

“Gee, Xander, guess they wouldn’t find any brains to suck outta you!” Dawn whirled back to her re-stacking job, seething. She was surprised that neither of the women tried to tell her off. She wondered what the hell Xander had been saying to piss off the normally patient Wicca and to also lose Anya’s support. ‘I’ll get it out of Tara tonight!’

A couple of hours later the shop was straightened out, but the tension was rapidly increasing.

“Ahn, think we’re all done. Shall we get a takeout and head home?” Xander smiled hopefully at his fuming fiancée. Completely oblivious, he shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked at the now gleaming floor.

“No, Xander. I am heading back with Tara and Dawn. I think you need to have some time to yourself to consider whether or not it is a good idea to try and hurt women.” Anya snapped her notebook shut and spun on her heel to glare at her shocked partner. Dawn stared at Xander in disgust.

“Wait, Ahn, please!” He grabbed her arm and tried to spin her around to face him. He desperately wanted to fix everything. He couldn’t believe that he had grabbed her! He was becoming his Dad, what with the drinking, expecting that everyone do as he wanted and, lastly, but most importantly, the shaking! He was ashamed that he had lost his temper. He needed to fix everything.

“Don’t grab me!” she hissed, aware that Dawn and Tara were now watching their angry confrontation. She pulled herself free and turned to face Xander. “I need some space and so do you. I am not leaving you. I do love you and do want to marry you, but unless you get your temper under control, we may have problems! You also need to get your Buffy and Spike issues under control. Are you ready to go, Tara? Dawn? Xander, I will see you after work tomorrow. No.” She held her hand up. “Don’t come to the shop tomorrow and don’t call.”

With that, she ushered the stunned man out of the shop.

The three girls locked up and headed out into the dusk.

* * * * *

Buffy sat brushing her wet hair, her towel pooled around her hips. Spike eyed her pert breasts as they shifted up and down with each stroke of her brush. Her pink nipples bobbed enticingly. Spike’s mouth watered and his lips twitched, aching to wrap themselves around one of them and suckle.

“Spike, before you act on whatever is going through your mind, take a shower. I can smell pig’s blood. Have to say, honey, the stinky blood thing… not getting me in the mood!” She smiled over her shoulder at the transfixed vamp. He had lost the ability to speak, struck dumb by her beauty. What shook him, though, was the intimacy of the tableau in front of him. He knew she was beautiful, but seeing her in such a natural and innocent moment, brushing her hair, had unmade him!

Spike was humbled by her innocent sensuality, he knew that she had no idea of the effect she was having on him. It just screamed relationship. Oddly, he was terrified. He was worried he would never be enough or that he would let her down.

He had seen her naked countless times, but only when she was riding him into oblivion or when she was splayed out on his bed moaning and writhing. Nevertheless, sitting there, naked to the waist brushing her hair, she had evoked such a strong reaction in his un-beating heart, that he was frozen.

Buffy stood and let the towel drop to the floor. She walked over to the pole-axed vamp. He watched her hips swaying sensually. His eyes trailed over her smooth golden curves, stopping briefly at the apex of her hips before travelling to her slender feet. Her tiny toes were painted in pale lavender. His lips quirked into a soft smile at the incongruity they presented, lethal weapons decorated in a silly feminine colour. The disparity was typically Buffy, one of the countless reasons he adored her.

“You like the colour?” She wriggled the toes that had mesmerized him.

“Huh?” Spike blinked and looked at her. His blue eyes oozing sensuality, he reached for her naked form. She danced away, causing her breasts to jiggle in a fascinating way, which he completely appreciated! He was gradually losing all higher brain function, all his borrowed blood was rushing to his cock.

“Hey, cave-vamp, less of the grabbing! More with the washing of those stinky paws!” She pushed him into the en-suite bathroom. “Go on, I’ll be waiting.” She trailed her fingers over the top of her breasts and licked her lips.

“Vixen,” Spike grumbled as he stripped. It was now Buffy’s turn to gaze dumbly at the muscled body that was gradually being revealed. He smirked at her reaction. ‘Oh yeah I’ve got it!’ Spike let out a very unmanly yelp. He spun around and gazed at the temptress who had just goosed him. “Oh, now you’ve done it.”

“I have, but you ain’t doing nothing until you’re squeaky clean!” Buffy trotted out, giving Spike an enticing glimpse of her heart shaped bottom.

‘Gotta shower!’ He leapt into the stall and spun the taps.

When he returned to the bedroom, all the lights were off except for the bedside lamp. He dropped the towel that he was using on his hair. He stood and stared. Buffy lay on her front, naked as the day she was born; her head resting on her crossed arms, facing him. His eyes trailed over her relaxed form, stopping when he reached her crossed ankles.

She didn’t open her eyes. Her lips curved into a soft smile. “Come here, gorgeous.”

With her softly spoken request, Spike slid onto the bed and crawled over to her warm, relaxed body. Buffy sighed at the feel of his lips trailing down her spine. Before she could turn over, he bit gently into her soft, rounded backside, evoking soft giggles that filled the room and filling Spike with a warm feeling. He loved to hear her giggle. He silently vowed to make sure she did it more often.

“Keep it down, cherub. Watcher boy needs his rest.”

Buffy turned onto her side and reached her hand over to play with his damp curls.

“I like your hair like that. Looks sexy.” She ruffled her fingers over the blond locks, causing Spike to growl. He reached over and pulled her relaxed body to his. They were a contrast in softness and hard angles. They fitted.

Spike’s eyes darkened to a deep indigo as he lowered his lips to Buffy’s in a sizzling kiss that curled her toes. Buffy moaned into his mouth as her fingers slid slowly up his back, exploring his muscles. He flipped her onto her back and rested his head on one hand as the other wandered over her stomach.

He felt elated. This was how he had dreamed it could be. Now that she had dropped all her emotional barriers, he had known it would be like this, gentle, sensual, but most importantly loving! Once she had let him into her heart, told him she loved him, he had known that the next time they made love, they would both feel it and not just him.

“I love you, Buffy Anne Summers.” He planted a kiss on her collarbone and then with his tongue followed the fragile bones up to her neck. His fingers cupped her small breast and squeezed it gently.

“I love you, too,” she moaned as he caught her earlobe in his teeth and nibbled gently. She tried to reach for him, but Spike caught her hands and pinned them over her head.

“No, let me play. Just relax and enjoy,” Spike whispered into her ear. He grinned as he felt her heart rate increase, amazed that it was him who caused it. He slid down and pressed his lips under her breast over her rapidly beating heart. “Mine!”

“Yours. Only yours!” Buffy gasped. Her hands lay on the pillow where Spike had left them. Her fingers twitched, desperate to caress her lover. Her breathing hitched as she felt Spike’s lips trail over her stomach pausing for a second to explore her bellybutton. She felt like she was going to pass out from the sensation overload.

She opened her mouth to say something, but before her brain could form a thought, Spike lunged downwards.

“Gahh!” was all she could say as he parted her lips and nuzzled into her soft, wet swollen folds. ‘Oh gods he is sooo good at this.’ Her right hand reached down and caught hold of his free hand. She twined their fingers and held on, trying to anchor herself. Sweat began to coat her body as Spike’s talented mouth worked its magic. “Spike, I can’t breathe. It’s too much!”

He looked up at her, his blue eyes mesmerising her as he continued to suckle on her aching clit. He pulled back and blew softly on her aching centre, sending her spiralling over the edge. Spike sat up and watched her as she came.

“Beautiful,” he breathed. Before she could recover, he pulled her up by their still clasped hands. Planting a gentle kiss on the inside of her left wrist he trailed his lips slowly up her arm, following the veins that pulsed under her golden skin. He licked the sweat off her elbow and with his other hand pulled her onto his lap. Buffy wrapped her shaking legs around his hips and rubbed herself against his aching cock.

He lifted her limp body slightly, nudging his erection to her still fluttering pussy. “Let me in, luv.” Buffy opened her eyes and stared sleepily into his. She shifted slightly and Spike sank home. Their mutual gasps filled the room.

“You fit perfectly, Spike!” Buffy moaned, as she rocked her hips against his.

“Don’t move pet, not yet. Let me get a hold of myself,” Spike whispered into her hair. He leaned forward and guided Buffy onto her back. He shifted his legs, straightening them. His actions caused him to sink deeper into her liquid depths.

“Oh!” was all she could say has he hit her G spot, and she had to bite his shoulder to stop herself from screaming as she came. Her inner walls fluttered over his burning cock as he began to move, slowly at first, gradually building up his speed until he was slamming into her willing body.

“More, more, more…” She trailed off as her eyes fluttered shut. Buffy came again and again, pulling Spike over the edge with her, into ecstasy.

They both lay still, basking in the afterglow. Spike buried his face into her hair and tried to get his emotions under control. He managed, until he felt Buffy’s tears on his shoulder. He lifted himself slightly, keeping himself buried in her.

“Why are you crying?”

“Oh, Spike, it was amazing. I love you.” She rained kisses over his face and wrapped her arms and legs around his lax form, anchoring him to her pliant body. He caught her lips with his own and kissed her. He reached over and switched the lamp off and then rolled, bringing Buffy with him.

“Sleep, pet.”

He stroked her hair as her breathing evened out. Gradually, he dozed off as well, feeling safe for the first time since he was turned.

* * * * *

“Found it!” Willow leapt off her stool and did a poor imitation of the Snoopy dance. She had been researching for hours in the campus library, knowing that none of the Scoobies would come looking for her here. She couldn’t remember the last time Buffy had come to the library. Possibly, it was the first day of University. She sat down and scanned the page in front of her.

She took the book over to the copier. Placing it face down, she hit the copy button. The light from the machine lit her from below, casting her face into an ominous shadow. The printed sheet shot out of the side of the copier into the tray.

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