The hammering on the door woke everyone in the apartment.

Buffy groaned and pushed herself up.

Spike’s eyes snapped open, immediately alert.

Wes bolted out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and sweats as he staggered out of his bedroom.

Spike and Buffy froze, both of them realising at the same time that Spike’s soft cock was still cradled inside her.

“Spike, get up.”

“I am.” As he spoke, he hardened. Buffy rolled her eyes and grinned at him.

“As much as I appreciate the offer, we have to check this out. When someone hammers on the door at…” She squinted at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “…one in the morning, it usually is not of the good.” Neither of them moved, both reluctant to lose the intimacy of the moment.

Buffy sighed and sat up, forcing Spike deeper into her. They both moaned.

“Love, please,” Spike begged.

“No, I can hear something.” Buffy slid off him and pulled on his black t-shirt. Spike glared down at his crotch, mentally willing himself to calm down. “Spike, catch!” She threw his jeans over to him and stood waiting, impatiently drumming her fingers on the door as she watched him gingerly tuck himself away. He paused for a second as he realised that Buffy was in his shirt, it just skimmed her thighs and when Buffy moved, she flashed him.

‘Very tantalising…’ He leered at his love.

“Go on, have a look see.” He gestured to the closed door as he padded up behind her.

A voice broke the silence that had followed the pounding.

“Need your help.”

Buffy and Spike looked at each other and edged out of the room. Spike handed her the switchblade that he kept in his jeans pocket. He pressed her gently on the shoulder and they sank down behind a bookcase. They couldn’t see who had come around asking for Wes, but, by the tone of the man’s voice, he was angry and didn’t want to be around Wesley.

Which begged the question: why come here demanding help? Spike settled his back against the shelves and pulled Buffy between his splayed legs, resting his chin on her shoulder. He watched her fiddle with the slim knife, spinning it on the flat of her palm.

“Look, I don't have time to get into it with you. I don't even wanna be here,” the mystery visitor stated in an aggressive voice. “The hotel's infested with something. Some kinda... slug, jellyfish thing. We don't know what they are or how to kill them.”

“And?” Spike whispered into Buffy’s ear. She wriggled as his breath tickled her ear.

“Well, now, that is a problem,” Wes said in a cool manner, his voice raspy with sleep and pain.

“These things... there's hundreds of 'em. They get inside you and... And soak up all the moisture in your body. They drink you alive.” Buffy made gagging motions at his description while Spike chuckled quietly. As Wes walked past the bookcase, he noticed the two of them. Spotting the knife in Buffy’s hand, he relaxed slightly. He felt better knowing he wasn’t alone.

“Why come to me? I expect Angel will find a way to kill them eventually,” he replied cynically, trying not to smile at the thought of two of the most fearsome warriors in existence hiding behind a bookcase like a couple of children eavesdropping.

“That's not what I'm looking for. I need to know how to get these slugs out of someone once they're infected. Force it out somehow...” Gunn still refused to meet Wesley’s eyes. He hated himself for being here, but Fred was in trouble and she needed brains, not brawn. The thought of that made his fists tighten.

“I wish I could help you,” Wes emphasised each word; there was an edge of anger to his voice. He resented that only when there was something they needed an answer for, did they remember him. “Sorry you wasted your time,” he snapped, furious that Angel didn’t have the guts to face him now that he was on his feet.

“It's Fred,” Gunn interrupted. Buffy and Spike tensed, wondering what the hell was going on. Before they could reveal themselves, Wes crossed over to where they were and pulled out a bottle of Vodka from the cabinet facing them.

“What, we're gonna have a drink now? Did you hear what I said? She's dying!”

“I was dying. I knew it lying in that dirty field, life pouring out of my throat. Do you know why I fought to stay alive? I needed to live to see my friends again. To explain to the people I trusted... and loved... my side of what happened.” Wesley winced at the pain in his throat, caused by shouting at the silent man in front of him.

“We know what...” Gunn replied, but was cut off by Wesley.

“You don't know anything,” Wes yelled. Spike wrapped his fingers around Buffy’s arm to stop her from jumping up and pounding Wes’s visitor to a paste. He shook his head and mouthed, “Wait a sec.”

“I'll help because it's Fred. But just so we understand each other… don't ever come here again. None of you are welcome here.” With that, Wes pushed Gunn out of the apartment and slammed the door in his face.

He rested his head against the doorjamb for a second before turning to face the still empty room. “You can come out now.”

Buffy and Spike stood, trying to not to look sheepish and failing miserably.

“Sorry, Wes, we didn’t know if you needed backup.” Buffy returned Spike’s knife to his front pocket, making him squirm as her fingers lingered a split second longer than needed.

“Looks like I had it, though.” He nodded to the knife now tucked away. “Thank you.”

Wesley sank down onto the sofa and stared blankly at the coffee table. He wanted to go and see if he could help, but at the same time he was angry and confused. He knew he wouldn’t be welcome. Buffy sat down and tucked Spike’s T-shirt over her knees.

“Was that one of your friends?” she asked.

“What? Oh, yes, that was Charles Gunn. He joined AI a couple of years ago. We were close, but now...”

“So, mate, you want to head over to the hotel and have a look?” Spike tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans.

“I don’t know. I want to help, even though I am angry with them. I know I won’t be welcome…” Wes trailed off.

“Not a problem. You know Peaches isn’t gonna want to see me, so how about the two pariahs go over, have a snoop, and if it gets sticky we’ll hide behind the Slayer here. No way the git won’t be happy to see her.”

“Not too happy, I hope,” Wes joked. “I think it may be advisable to check the situation. Someone could be hurt if these things escape into LA.”

“Clothes, weapons and keys?” Buffy suggested. “If there’s slaying to be done, I can’t see that my flashing them would work!” She headed off to change.

“Pet, you know if you’d flashed me back when we first met, I would definitely have been slain by your charms,” Spike whispered as he pulled the half-dressed girl into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

“Perv!” She giggled and pulled out of his arms to continue dressing. “Get your clothes on!” She threw the t-shirt she had been wearing onto the bed as she disappeared into the bathroom to fix her hair. Spike snagged the discarded shirt off the bed, brought it to his face and inhaled. The lure of their combined scents was overwhelming. Unable to resist, he pulled on the shirt and tucked it into his jeans revelling in the combination of her warmth and scent. He stretched sinuously before plopping onto the bed and pulling on his Docs.

“Come, gorgeous. Stop primping, there’s gits to save. Wonder if we should take some slug pellets?”

“What was that, Spike?” Buffy came out, tucking her hair onto the top of her head and securing it with a couple of chopsticks. A smudge of lipstick completed her outfit.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

“Thanks, handsome. Come on, Wes’ll be waiting.”

* * * * *

“Wes, Spike wanted to get slug pellets,” Buffy chirped as they drove towards Angel’s abode. She succeeded in making the taciturn man smile.

“I think possibly a large mallet may be in order,” he retorted. He watched the Large Art Deco hotel appear ahead of them as Spike turned into the street.

“Or a few buckets of beer,” Spike offered.

“Spike, no drinking on the job!” She poked him in his ribs.

“No, luv, slugs like beer, and then when they get it, they’re dead,” he explained. “So, how do you want to handle this?” Spike asked around his ever-present cigarette. The question was directed at both of the humans in the car. He was worried about Buffy mainly, but, to his surprise, he was also concerned about the Watcher that sat in the back.

“I don’t know. How about playing it by ear?” Wesley suggested.

“Spike, what do you want to do? ‘Cause you know as soon as Angel sees us together he’ll try and fight you!” Buffy rested her hand gently on his knee.

“I think Watcher boy is right. Play it by ear.” He took her hand and kissed it. “And thank you.”

“What for?” she asked, puzzled.

“Try and fight me.” Spike laughed. “Too bloody right, he couldn’t take me! I’ve had a lot of training with one of the best, you know!”

“Who? Mr. Giles?” Wesley asked.

“No, fighting with this one. She keeps me sharp and I am on the top of my game at the mo. Peaches won’t have a chance,” Spike commented casually.

“Ahh.” Wesley, despite his antipathy towards his former employee, really didn’t want to see him dusted. Something told him that Spike was right. Angel wouldn’t have a chance one on one with his grand-childe. Angel’s fighting techniques had gotten lazy. Also, surprisingly, considering his diet, Angel had gotten a lot bigger and the extra weight was definitely not muscle!

“Spike, I know if I asked, you wouldn’t fight Angel, but I do understand that you may have to. He’ll see you as a threat to his claim.” Even as she spoke, Buffy felt an old twinge of anger. She had never forgiven Angel for claiming her and not explaining it. She had spent hours reading through Giles’ texts and stinky old books until she found what she needed to know.

“You know about that?” Spike asked cautiously. He was surprised that the Slayer had worked out what his Grandsire had done. It rankled with him that the Poof had walked away from her after that. He knew if he had claimed her, his dust would have followed her until the day she died.

“What?” Wesley exclaimed. Staggered, he gazed at Buffy’s neck. Angel had never mentioned the claim, which was, in itself, odd, but her laissez-faire attitude towards it was causing him to gape at her.

“Oh, come on, like I didn’t know,” she responded to the two gaping men who were staring at her. She had eventually come to terms with Angel’s selfishness at abandoning his mate but it had taken a while. The main reason for her relaxed attitude was sitting next to her with a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his open mouth. She reached over to pluck it off his bottom lip and threw it out of the window. “Not a cool look, sweetie!”

Spike blinked. “You know about the claim?”

“Yeah, I worked it out. Took me a while, but of course I know!”

“What do you want to do about it?” Spike asked cautiously. He desperately wanted her to be his, completely his, but until she asked, he would not act.

“I want to break it,” she replied calmly. “Have for a long time, but I never had the guts to talk to Angel about it, but now, with you next to me, I think I can.”

“You know what to say to break the claim?” he asked. Wes stayed silent, aware that this was something he would do best to stay well out of.

“Yeah, I have the words and ritual memorised,” she replied calmly, surprising both the men again in the space of minutes.

“When you’re ready, I’ll be there, pet,” Spike said as they pulled up outside the looming hotel.

“Tonight, once we get the slugs killed, I’ll get Angel to do it. Just try not to kill him before we revoke the claim, okay, honey?”

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy, pet.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Everything will be okay.” She reached over and stroked her lover’s face. “So, do we go in?” She turned to face Wes, who was staring at her in awe.

* * * * *

“Guys, put my girl down,” Gunn said as he appeared, carrying the bottle of vodka Wes had given him earlier. He squatted before them and forced Fred to drink as much of the bottle as possible. She tried to resist, but the combined strength of Groo and Lorne holding her arms kept her still, while Gunn forced more of the alcohol down her throat. She coughed and sputtered, then retched as she threw up the slug.

Before it could slither away, Groo skewered the thing with Lorne’s sword.

“Cool sword action.”

The four turned to face the woman who had entered behind them. Buffy stood with her arms folded, Spike and Wes flanking her. She smiled brightly.

“Wow, big improvement on the crumbly mansion Angel had in Sunnydale,” she commented as she took in the Deco interior. Her smile faltered when she spotted the large red pentacle, still visible despite all the cleaning. “…Though I don’t think much of the floor decorations!”

“What are you doing here?” Gunn hissed, furious that Wesley had come.

“Just came to check that my cure worked.” In that one cold sentence he destroyed any credibility Gunn had gained by curing Fred.

“Your help was most welcome.” Groo nodded in thanks. He smiled widely at the scarred man noting his discomfort and trying to ease it. He was more interested in the two warriors that stood with him. He could sense the male was a demon but the female had an undercurrent of strength he had never witnessed before.

“We don’t need your help no more!” Gunn shouted. “So take your Barbie doll and the punk and get lost!”

“Okay, cookies, enough with the anger! It’s making my horns ache so imagine how Fred’s head must feel,” Lorne interjected, trying to ease the tension. The two leather-clad blondes that were very obviously here to support Wesley intrigued him.

Before anyone else could say anything, the lobby was filled with a bright light. The pinned slug demon screamed and burnt up. Everyone but Buffy, Spike and Groo shielded their eyes. The three true warriors stood alert, ready to fight.

“Okay, unless anyone else has something, let me be the first to ask, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Lorne exclaimed.

Angel appeared, followed by an excited Cordelia. Both froze when they saw the three visitors.

“Buffy?” Angel stopped in his tracks, ignoring Cordelia as she ploughed into his back.

“Hey, wasn’t me this time,” Buffy chirped, not taking her eyes off the dark-haired vamp who was gazing adoringly at her.

“It wasn’t Buffy. I did the glow thing, and I saved the day,” Cordy interjected angrily. She couldn’t believe that the faux-blonde Slayer had stolen her thunder again. She had, in her jealousy, conveniently forgotten the ratty, blonde mess on her own head which she had tried covering up with a cute scarf. She crossed her arms and glared at her former schoolmate. Her apparent saintliness and champion status had vanished with one glimpse of her high school adversary. She looked over at Angel and scowled at his entranced face.

Cordelia then spotted Spike. The seer bit her lip, wondering if maybe she should have mentioned Spike and his involvement with the Scoobies to Angel. When Willow had come to tell them about Buffy’s sacrifice, the two of them had sat and talked for hours. Wesley and Gunn had been too preoccupied in calming Angel down for her to ask their opinion. Willow and she had finally decided that, under the circumstances, the Spike situation was one more revelation that Angel probably would not have been able to process.

Willow had, over the months since Buffy’s death and subsequent return, emailed Cordy, keeping her up to date with everything that was happening in Sunnydale. Cordelia had meant to tell Angel, but with the appearance of Darla, Connor and the subsequent events, she had not had time to sit Angel down and fill him in. On reflection, it may have been something she should have done because there was no way this was gonna come out well. She looked over to see where Willow was, and frowned worriedly. ‘Something’s happened to Willow, oh God, no!’ Cordelia began to worry. There had been no sign of email from Willow over the last few weeks.

Unknown to Cordelia, two people had been watching her closely. One of them felt really stupid that during the years he had worked closely with her, she had managed to fool him. Wesley frowned, stunned at his stupidity and also impressed with Cordelia’s duplicity. ‘She really is a better actress than I believed!’

The other stood watching her.

He saw…

Her petty jealousy.

He saw…

Her anger.

He realised that his princess was just an idealised woman. She was perfect, if only in his eyes, until this moment.

Then he realised.

She was not a saint, or a warrior. Not after seeing the tiny, radiant, blonde woman standing in the stairwell. There was no comparison. This one called Buffy was a true fighter, a Champion.

Cordelia was a pale substitute.

He realised that she had no real feelings for him. He was just a substitute for the oblivious vampire standing next to him.

Groo’s heart broke.

He stepped backwards, jostling Wes as he exited the hotel. He gazed unseeingly at the fountain in the courtyard, the beauty of the Deco woman in the centre lost to him.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?”

Groo turned to face Wesley. “What would you be referring to?”

“Realising the woman you love doesn’t return your feelings,” Wes answered matter-of-factly.

He sat on the edge of the fountain and stared into the pool of water. “At least I was lucky. I never tasted her lips.”

“Winifred? You care for her? Now I understand why Gunn is so aggressive towards you. It is a matter of the heart and not solidarity with Angel.” Groo sat next to the silent man. He watched the doors, wondering if Cordelia would realise he was missing and come looking for him.

“She won’t come looking for you.” Wesley’s rough voice echoed around the small garden.

Groo sighed. “I know. But it is good to hope. Though I know she is not mine, I did love her. I did from the first time I saw her in the Throne room. She is more concerned with Angel.” He gestured to his hair and clothes, “I am a poor approximation of him…” He trailed off with another sigh.

They sat in silence.

“I’m leaving Los Angeles,” Wes commented with a deliberate casualness.

“With the two Champions?”

Wesley frowned. Though he didn’t know Spike that well yet, he instinctively knew that Spike would laugh at the suggestion that he was a champion. “Buffy and Spike, yes. They came to see me in the hospital and asked me to go with them to Sunnydale and help defend the Hellmouth.” Wesley chose his words carefully. He wanted to plant the seeds of an idea in the tall man next to him. He instinctively knew that Groo’s relationship was over. He also felt that, from his previous comments, the Pylean Champion had realised it as well.

“This Hellmouth, it offers challenges?”

“That it does. There are all shapes and forms of Demons to fight. There is the regular yearly Apocalypse, as well. Yes, I would say that it offers a challenge to the right man.” Wesley reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook, writing for a moment.

“Interesting.”

“Yes, it is an interesting place, Groo.” Wesley stood and dusted off his sweats and walked away, leaving a piece of paper next to the Pylean.

“It may be a place you could call home,” Wes commented coolly as he re-entered the Hyperion only to back out again when he realised what was happening within, leaning against the portico so that he could be ready to help if the situation required it.

“Indeed.” Groo took the paper with Buffy’s address and phone number and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

* * * * *

Fred, Gunn and Lorne edged over to the sofa by the office and sat down to watch the impending confrontation. Angel’s gaze flickered over to his Childe, standing so near to his mate. He growled, ignoring Cordelia’s clutching hands as he stalked across the lobby.

“Angel, wait, we need to talk about what happened to me in the kitchen,” she whined, incensed that he had dismissed her so quickly. ‘As soon little Miss Slays-a-lot turns up, all my hard work goes out the window,’ she thought bitterly. She stomped over to the others. “Did you see? I killed them all! Cool, huh?” The trio on the sofa nodded but never took their eyes off the three figures in front of them.

“Spike, why are you here?” Angel demanded, his hands fisted by his sides.

“Granddad! Miss me?” Spike threw his arms wide and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Angel glared at him; an even louder growl erupting out of him.

“Wow, Angel, when did you get a guard dog?” Buffy joked, trying to ease the tension.

Angel ignored her. He turned to the still smirking, peroxide pest. “I said what are you doing here?”

Buffy stepped between the two vampires. “Angel, he’s with me. Stop with the bad moodiness.” She reached behind her and took Spike’s hand in her slender fingers. Angel gazed in horror at her gesture of solidarity with Spike, against him.

“Who the hell is that gorgeous boy?” Lorne whispered to Cordelia who had been closely watching both Angel and Buffy. She was unsurprised at his reaction to the slayer, but it still hurt. Cordy was also a bit hurt and angry that no one had commented on her glowy thing saving all their lives. Her head snapped around to face Lorne. The movement dislodged the headscarf and it fell to the floor, unnoticed.

“He’s no boy,” she hissed, keeping one eye on the frozen tableau.

“No, he’s not! He is a hunk of a white chocolate that needs to be devoured. It looks like the little blonde is up for the job!” Lorne cocked his head and looked at Angel. “...Though maybe not in the way Angel-cakes is thinking. Spill Cordelia! Who is he?”

“He’s Spike,” Cordelia muttered, never taking her eyes of the scene before her, wanting desperately to step in and protect Angel, but instinctively, she knew that there was nothing she could do. This was something that he had to go through on his own.

“And…” Gunn widened his eyes, trying to encourage her.

“And what? He’s a vamp. Drusilla made him. He hates Angel and Angel loathes him,” Cordy snapped angrily. She tried to stop herself but something dark crawled in her and Cordelia was helpless against it. Angel had hypothesised, when Cordelia had finally brought it up, that it was the demon aspects that Skip had infused into her to save her life, but recently Cordy was starting to wonder if it was something more. It usually lay dormant, but recently she had noticed that it was stronger after a vision. Now Cordelia guessed the glowy thing was also a trigger for it. So consumed by her thoughts, she didn’t notice her three friends exchange a few surprised looks at her agitated behaviour.

“You okay, Cordy?” Fred rested her hand on the angry girl’s arm. Cordy shrugged her off. Fred frowned at the summary dismissal. ‘Oh, I’m fine Cordy. Completely recovered from the freaky slug swallowing incident. Thanks for asking,’ Fred thought resentfully.

“Angel? Maybe we could take a break from the angst-o-rama. I need to talk to you about what happened to me in the kitchen. We so need to research it.” Cordy stood and turned, heading into the office. She paused when she realised that no one had followed her. She kicked the door shut, too embarrassed to go back out. She couldn’t believe that she had just done that. It was like someone else had taken her over for a moment.

“I hate her,” she muttered and reached for a book. She sat down in Angel’s chair and began to pretend to read. As she sat there, Cordelia flicked through the book and surreptitiously watched the three of them. She couldn’t believe that Buffy wasn’t pissed that she, Cordelia, was now more powerful than her. “Whoa! Where did that come from?” Cordelia took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but before she could centre herself, she felt something push her conscience aside and let out the long forgotten Queen C.

“How hard is it to hit something? I mean, come on, I’m all with the visions, floating and, now, glowing. That’s a load more power than Miss Sunnyhell will ever see!”

“Do you think I should go in to her?” Fred asked.

“No, honey, you need to rest.” Lorne patted her hand. “Also, I think this may be a bit more interesting than listening to Cordy when she’s sulking.” Lorne sipped delicately from the bottle of Vodka he had rescued from Gunn.

“Angel, stop with the growlies. Please!”

“Yeah, Peaches! You sound constipated,” Spike taunted.

“Spike! Stop provoking him,” Buffy chided.

Angel watched the two bickering and a sick realisation dawned. ‘They’re a couple.’ He turned to his three friends on the sofa. “Guys, maybe you could give us a moment. Fred, you should get some sleep. Gunn?”

“Yeah, sure, come on. Lorne, give me a hand?” Gunn lifted Fred into his arms and swept past the blonde couple on the stairs with Lorne trailing mournfully behind them.

“But I want to stay and watch the show…”

Angel turned back to face Buffy and Spike. “Why did you come with Wes?” he asked, unable to face asking about what he had realised, preferring to broach the lesser evil.

“Wes? Oh well, we were visiting with him. He needed some help getting settled… You know, after the hospital released him.” Buffy watched Angel closely. She was disappointed to see he didn’t even twitch. ‘He really has changed. He doesn’t even feel bad about trying to kill his friend.’ So, she tried to get a reaction, “You know, after you tried to kill him?”

He glared at her. “There’s more to it than that,” he said defensively.

“Do tell, Peaches,” Spike drawled as he sat down on the stairs and leant back on his elbows. He wondered if Angel would spill about his spawn.

“It has nothing to do with you, Spike,” the older vamp snarled, incensed that Spike had to witness his embarrassment. He also knew that they could hear everything Cordy was muttering in the office. He mentally winced, ‘you’d think after years of working with me she would know how much I can hear.’ He could see by their expressions that both Buffy and Spike could hear her as well. Their eyes kept flicking over to the closed door.

“Angel, we know about Connor,” Buffy said gently.

“How?”

“I think maybe it would better if I asked you why.” Buffy stared impassively at her first love. “Why didn’t you call and tell me?” She watched as he got that familiar, patronising look on his face, the look that used to drive her nuts, the one that said, ‘Oh, little girl, I am a grown-up and you will never understand the things I’ve seen and done’. She had only seen it a couple of times, usually just before he did something for ‘her own good’. It used to hurt that he sometimes didn’t treat her as an equal, but now she realised that she didn’t care. She had Spike and, instinctively, Buffy knew he would never treat her like anything but the strong woman he knew she was and she loved him for it.

“You know, Peaches, there’s these amazing, newfangled inventions called telephones. You pick up the receiver and punch in the numbers. Then you can talk to someone without having to do it face-to-face,” Spike taunted Angel, knowing that the git probably hadn’t wanted to tell Buffy. ‘Because, one, he was a git, two, he was a coward, three, he didn’t want the Slayer to know that the almighty Angel, defender of all that was good, had clay feet and lastly and probably more importantly, he had shagged Darla. Not something to brag about, just about everyone had been there and done that, well, except for me. I’m not up for sloppy hundreds! No way he would have wanted my girl to know he had moved on! Not if that meant Buffy wasn’t patiently biding her time until they could be reunited.’ Spike shuddered. ‘Great, now I have the image of the caveman’s naked body.’ He eyed the aforementioned body critically. ‘Piled on a few stone in the last year or so mate? I thought it was the birds that got extra padding when they were up the duff? Then again, soul boy would have probably wanted to feel the whole experience. Wonder if he got piles, too?’ Spike thought wickedly. He grinned over at the fuming vamp and unconsciously flexed his muscles in his arms.

‘I can’t believe she is asking me these things! Connor is mine and she has no...’ Angel stopped his angry thoughts for a moment and looked at Buffy. She was now sitting a step down from Spike and resting causally against one of his legs. ‘Right! Who is this girl? There was a time when she would never have asked me things or gone against me to help someone who had taken my son away.’ Angel was caught up in his self-righteousness and didn’t realise how much his thoughts reflected his alter ego, Angelus.

“Angel, aren’t you gonna answer me?” Buffy whispered. She wondered what the hell was going through his mind. Before Angel could respond, he noticed Spike eyeing him with a faint smile on his face. Spike’s muscled arms rippled and Angel saw red. Before he could move, Buffy’s voice pierced the red haze of anger around him. “Spike’s right. If you couldn’t face me, why not call? I would have sent a card and some of those cute baby clothes. Oh! Or a mini Gordo!”

Angel blinked and looked at Buffy as if she had grown another head. “Called you? Why? What’s a Gordo?”

“About Connor?” she reminded him. “You know, your son?” She was also wondering how he could forget Mr. Gordo. ‘I guess anything I care about wasn’t that important to him in the long run.’

“And?” he asked defensively, anger now taking over. ‘Why is she making me look bad?’ he thought irritably.

“Yeah, Buffy? What does it matter to you if Angel had a kid? It’s not like you were in the picture.” Cordy’s shrill voice echoed around the reception area. She had given up on trying to suppress her Queen C persona. It was getting harder every day. Even Angel winced at her bitchy comments as he snapped around and glared at her.

“Cordy, this has nothing to do with you. Why don’t you go and find Groo?” he ordered, wondering if she had even noticed that her so-called love had been missing since the slug action had ended.

“But… you need me! You know how you get after a Buffy-angst-o-rama!” she whined. Her eyes widened when Angel shook his head and turned away to face Buffy.

“Believe me, Cordy, no angst on my side,” Buffy wryly interjected. She eyed the seer, wondering if the reason Xander had been attracted to her was because, as the saying goes, like goes to like. ‘Shallow goes to shallow in this case!’

“No, Angel, you need me!” Cordelia insisted.

“No, I don’t. Leave. This is family business!” he growled.

“I thought we were family…” She trailed off at the looks on all three of their faces. Spike was openly laughing at her and Buffy stared at her in shocked surprise, but worst of all was the blank expression on Angel’s face. She backed away and scrambled over Spike, through the glass doors and out into the courtyard. She kicked the door shut and tried not to scream. She pressed her shaking hands together. Trying to claw her way through the darkness and anger that was roiling through her, she took a calming breath. For a second Cordelia felt better.

“Not needed, Cordelia?” Wesley’s rough voice made her jump. “I would offer my sympathies, but to be honest, I couldn’t care less.” He straightened and stood. “I have to thank you for the get well cards, flowers and visits. Oh, my, no, I’m sorry, I don’t.” He glared at the obviously flustered girl, inwardly grinning at her discomfort.

“Gee, Wes, I had more important things to do. Angel needed me.” She snapped back. ‘Yeesh, Cordy, stop it! Wes is a friend.’ She frowned at Wesley wondering why he just stood there and smiled at her. She hadn’t said anything funny.

“You place too much importance on yourself!” Wesley growled, his shock at her arrogance causing him to lose his innate politeness.

“And I, Princess, do I not need you?”

‘Shit, not now!’ She whirled around, pasting a smile on her face. “Now, Groo, I explained that Angel and I have a lot of history.”

“You wish,” Wesley muttered. He didn’t even try to contain his comments anymore. He owed no loyalty to any of them. Cordelia’s smile faltered at his quiet comment. Groo just watched her with his wide blue eyes, waiting.

“Yes, I think I now understand how much you need him. I also know how much you need from me,” he added sadly.

“What? Of course he needs me. You know how he gets, all sad and moody! He needs human contact to ground him.”

“Cordelia, you do remember that you are part demon?” Wesley interrupted.

“Shut up, Wesley.” She dropped all pretence of civility, hating that he was able to out-bitch her.

“Groo, honey, you know how I feel about you, but there’s so much going on at the moment at work. I want to keep you separate from all that. You know, just special Cordy time.” She reached over and tried to touch Groo but he stepped back.

“Me, me, me. Cordelia, I really believe you have managed to surpass even yourself in self-absorption!”

“I said shut up, Wes! Also, get lost!” she yelled. “You’re ruining everything!”

“No, I believe he is quite correct. I also believe it would be better if you returned to your home, Cordelia.” She started in shock. It was the first time Groo had called her by her full name. She didn’t know what to say or what had gone wrong. “Go home, Cordelia, and get some rest. I shall join you later.” She nodded, overwhelmed by everything. She pulled her cars keys out of her pocket and walked away. The seer felt sick to her heart for the way she had treated all of them. ‘It’s probably better if I get away from everyone.’

“I thought she would never go.”

Groo sighed, worry etched over his face. This was not the same funny, bright girl he had fallen in love with in Pylea. Instead, there seemed to be a darkness in her that was surfacing more and more. It was only his sense of honour and his affection for Cordelia that had kept him trying to find his lost princess, but there was a point where he had to call a stop. He knew that time was now.

“I am truly sorry.”

“As am I. It is unsettling when the one I thought I loved is not truly who she pretended to be.”

“I have a feeling Buffy is experiencing the same thing with Angel.”

They walked away from the doors and headed out onto the street. They stood watching Cordelia’s jeep screech around the corner.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly. I’ll do my best to give you an honest answer, Groo.”

“What do these women see in him?”

Wesley laughed. “You know, I have often wondered about that myself!”

* * * * *

Angel rolled his eyes at the conversation that all three of them had overheard. He strained to hear what Groo and Wesley were saying, but their voices were drowned out by passing traffic.

“Wow, Angel, I thought she had changed.” Buffy laughed.

“She has, really. I promise.” He chuckled.

Buffy and Spike exchanged a puzzled look. Angel had gone from being about to rip their heads off to joking about Cordelia.

“Angel, you okay?” Buffy asked.

“Peaches, you channelling Dru?”

With that, Angel’s control snapped. Snarling, he leapt at the smirking vamp. In his haste to get to Spike, he elbowed Buffy in the face. He didn’t even hear her cry out as she slipped and cracked her head on the marble floor. Spike saw it all, but before he could reach for her his arms were full of a berserker vampire.

He fought defensively.

For a spilt second, he saw Buffy struggling to her feet. Blood poured from her head and her left eye was rapidly swelling shut. He snarled, his game face coming to the fore and he threw himself at Angel, all thoughts of playing nice gone.

She was hurt. Buffy was bleeding.

It was a messy fight. No elegant leaps or combination kicks.

Fist and fangs.

They rolled over and over.

Biting and clawing.

Knees violently arching up into the other’s groin.

Anger numbing the pain.

Spike twisted out of Angel’s strong hands. He leapt to his feet and began to unleash a flurry of kicks. Angel grunted with each contact of Spike’s boots, his arms curled protectively over his head after one blow caught him firmly in the nose, shattering it. Blood poured down his face as he flipped to his feet.

They circled each other like a pair of boxers, but they paid no heed to the Marquis of Queensbury rules. Elbows and fists connected with sharp slapping noises. The occasional snarl and grunt was sounded.

Spike spun on his right heel and kicked Angel in the stomach, sending him flying. He slid ungracefully over the reception desk, scattering files and paperwork everywhere, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. For a second, there was a groan of pain, then silence.

Spike waited, cracked his neck and shook his hands out. He glanced briefly over at Buffy. She blinked and nodded slightly whilst she let Groo and Wes tend to her injuries. He tilted his head in a question and she answered by waving her hands for him to continue.

Angel reappeared and launched himself at Spike. Before he could land a blow, Spike had twisted his hand in his shirt and began punching him.

“You git!” Thump.

“Bastard!” Thump.

Angel wavered on his feet, disoriented from all the abuse his body had taken. Spike noticed that the fight had shifted in his favour. He smirked. His game face slid away and with a barely suppressed growl, he raised his arm.

“Never.” Slap. Spike had uncurled his fist. His open hand caught Angel across the face.

“Never.” Slap.

“Touch.” Backslap.

“Buffy,” slap. “Like,” slap. “That!” Slap. With that, Spike punched Angel in the temple, dropping him instantly. He kicked Angel once more in the nuts for good measure. “Actually, never touch her again!” Then, he ran to his love’s side.

“You okay, Sweet?” His hands hovered over her injuries. For a brief second he caught Wesley and Groo’s eyes and nodded his thanks.

“I’m okay. Just need an ice pack or two,” she pouted up at Spike’s battered face. “I think you might need a bit more help than me, darling.”

Groo returned with some blue gel ice packs and handed them to Wesley. He shook them and gently applied one to her rapidly bruising eye. He also grabbed the first aid kit Groo had found, placing it next to him. The silent man cleaned the cut in Buffy’s hairline. He then deftly applied butterfly stitches and covered the wound with a bit of gauze and tape. At the same time he was tending to Buffy, Groo had cleaned the cuts on Spike’s face and wrapped the vampire’s bleeding knuckles.

“Do you have any wounds elsewhere, Champion?” the Pylean asked solicitously.

Spike peered at him through two bloodshot eyes. “Champion?”

“Indeed,” Groo answered gravely.

“I need a cigarette.” Spike patted his duster, looking for a packet. He was overwhelmed at the title the strange-looking man had given him. He was secretly chuffed, though! As he searched for the elusive packet of ciggies, he winced. “I think I might need my ribs wrapped as well.”

Groo pulled up Spike’s shirt and began to feel along his ribs.

“There are some cracks, but nothing broken. May I?” He nodded towards Spike’s rapidly reddening chest.

“Go ahead, mate. Thanks for the help.” Spike shrugged off his duster and then very slowly raised his arms, allowing Groo to carefully wrap his aching torso. His blue eyes never left Buffy as she allowed Wes to apply a second pack to her bandaged forehead.

They all ignored Angel when he groaned and rose slowly to his feet.

He watched the four figures on the stairs angrily. When he saw what he had done to Buffy, the anger was replaced with guilt.

“Buffy, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“You never do, Angel,” Wesley replied quietly.

“Buffy, please, look at me!” he begged.

“Angel, enough!” she snapped. Tired and aching all over, she felt a bit sick from the blow to her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” She looked sadly over at him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he pleaded.

“I know, but you always do,” she whispered.

“I would never consciously hurt you!” he exclaimed.

“Really, Peaches?”

“Keep out of this Spike!”

“No, I will not. You wan’ another round?” Spike growled.

“Both of you, enough!” Groo shouted. “This behaviour is not becoming!”

“He’s right,” Wesley added.

“Angel, you have hurt me a lot, but there is a way for all it to stop.” Buffy rose shakily to her feet.

“You’ll get rid of Spike?” he asked hopefully.

“Never,” she snapped. “But there is something you can do.”

“Anything... Let me make this right.”

“I hoped you’d say that. I want to break the claim you forced on me,” she announced as she trailed her fingers over his scar on her neck.

Angel stepped back, stunned. ‘How? What? How did she know?’ He scrambled to recover. “What are you talking about?”

“Stop it, Angel! I know about the claim you made on me and then abandoned!” she shouted.

He shook his head. ‘No, no. I can’t. I won’t let her go. Not now. If I tell her about the Shanshu, she’ll wait!’

“Angel, I want to do it! It’s over, we have both moved on. It’s time to let go of the past. If you feel anything for me then you will do this for me.” She calmly stepped towards the retreating vampire. He stumbled and sat on the circular sofa that had been knocked aside in the fight.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t make me do this! I can’t,” he begged.

“I will make you break the claim and you can do it. I’d like to do the ceremony now.” Buffy sat down again and leant against Spike, drawing strength from his quiet support. Angel watched them for a second. Then he rose and stormed out of the reception and up to his rooms. The sound of his thundering passage filled the large area.

“Well, that went much better than I expected,” Buffy commented.

“Um, how old is he?” Buffy shuffled her feet.

“Physical, mental, vampire or combined age?” Spike quipped. Groo and Wesley laughed at his joke.

“So what do we do now?”

“No idea, Buffy. Maybe one of us should go talk to him,” Spike offered.

“Well, not me. No way he’s gonna want to see me at the moment,” Buffy mumbled into Spike’s neck.

“I doubt that he would be ready to talk to me either,” Wes responded dryly.

“I do not know him well enough,” Groo added.

“Sweet Moses in a basket! What the hell did I miss?” Lorne trotted down the stairs and gazed at the two injured blondes. “Are you two okay?” he asked, looking extremely concerned.

“Angel happened!” Wesley adjusted the ice pack on Buffy’s head.

“He hit you? But I thought you were his long lost love…” Lorne grimaced at Spike’s blistering glare. “Maybe not?” he offered with a sheepish smile.

“S’all right. I got a few kicks and bruises in for my lady’s honour!”

“More than a few, honey.” Buffy squeezed his arm gently, trying to avoid any ouchie areas.

“Well, there’s no way I’m talking him down, not without a few strong Sea Breezes in me!” Lorne turned to Wesley who had ignored him completely. “Wesley, I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital. It’s just, what with the green skin and the horns…” He gestured to his face. “I can’t really move around in those sort of places easily. I was waiting until you got out. Just wanted you to know you have a friend in me. That is, if you still want one.”

Wesley nodded slowly, part of his anger falling away. He had never considered that Lorne might not have been able to see him. “I’d like that, though I won’t be in LA for much longer. I do appreciate your apology, however.” He hesitated for a second. “Lorne, I am truly sorry for knocking you out. I was only trying to save both Angel and Connor.”

“You’re forgiven. Also, I know you were only doing what you could to protect the little nipper and his Pops. Just make sure I have a number to keep in contact.”

“So, who’s going to talk to Peaches?” Spike eyed the others and sighed. “Bugger. I guess I’ll go!”

“Just follow the smell of burnt wood and fresh paint,” Lorne suggested.

“What?”

“Angel had a little trouble a while back. We’ve just finished fixing up his rooms.”

“And he doesn’t have another room to move into? It’s a hotel for cripes sake!” He rolled his eyes at them and slowly stood. Holding his side he limped up the stairs. “If you hear screams, come rescue Angel!”

* * * * *

“What happened in here?” Spike stepped over the burned timbers and broken furniture that littered the hallway and made his way through the open door.

“Earthquake, fire and rain of blood. Well, dripping of my blood,” Angel replied mildly. After Buffy’s request to break the claim, the fight had gone out of him. He had had no idea that she had realised what he had done. After recovering from the initial anger and shock, he now felt guilty. He hadn’t made the claim deliberately. His demon had.

Spike sat on the re-upholstered armchair and slowly leant back. He let out an audible sigh of relief. “You need tending to?”

“You offering?”

“See anyone else around?” Spike sniped back at the brunette who stood with his back to him, fingering a collapsed crib. “Connor’s?”

“Yes, it’s all I have left of him. Some clothes, toys, an empty crib… Even his scent is fading. The fire took that.” Angel turned to face his Childe. Although Drusilla had sired him, Angel had always considered Spike to be his own.

“I can just about pick him up. It’s odd smelling Darla and you combined again. Brings back some memories and not all of them bad. We did have some good times, back in the day.” Spike had never been one to hold a grudge, give him a good fight and then, as a rule, he pretty much put it behind him.

“The good old days. We did have some.” Angel shared a smile with the seated blonde. He stopped himself for a moment, recalling Darla’s sacrifice.

“She staked herself so he could live. I felt her disintegrate in my hands.” He stared down at his empty hands then looked up at Spike’s glowing yellow eyes. He offered his grieving Grandsire a sympathetic growl. Angel nodded in thanks. He had known that out of anyone Spike would understand. After all, he was family. The others had barely mentioned the passing of his sire.Pretty much the same had happened the first time she had been dusted…by the same hands that had desperately held hers as she sacrificed herself.

“It was hard at first. I mean, what did I know about raising children? But then everything clicked into place. It was amazing.”

“Got any pictures?”

“Here.” Angel reached over and pulled out a sheaf of photographs from a drawer and handed them to Spike. He was a little unsettled at the civility of their conversation after their earlier fight. Spike flicked through the images, pausing at one that showed Cordelia holding Connor with Angel hovering in the background, a lovesick look on his face.

“You love her?”

“Buffy? Yes, I do.” Angel braced himself for another attack.

“No, you nit, the cheerleader,” Spike retorted.

“I thought I did. But now it’s too late…”

“Now that you realise that Buffy isn’t waiting in her ivory Hellmouth for you, it all seems a bit trivial.” Spike tossed the picture on the bed next to Angel. “She can’t hold a candle to the Slayer, can she? Even with the dodgy dye job.” He smoothed his hand over his own bleached hair and smiled ruefully.

“No, she can’t, but I do feel something for her. I honestly thought that she could fill Buffy’s shoes.”

“Sire, no one can do that.”

“I know, but it seems like my shoes have been filled...” Angel glanced over at his errant childe and groaned. Spike sat there looking like a cat that’d eaten a cage full of canaries. “Stop looking so smug and happy or I’ll be sick!”

“I do love her, you know.”

“I know,” Angel stated simply. He looked at the photograph again and shook his head. ‘What was I thinking? I’m still cursed, why do I play Russian roulette with my soul?’

“I’d never hurt her… protect her with my un-life.” Spike laid his hand over his un-beating heart.

“I know.” One thing about Spike he knew, when he loved, it was completely.

“So, where’s the first aid kit?”

“In the kitchen.” Angel waved his hand over to the first cupboard. Spike rose slowly and retrieved the kit then sat down on the bed next to Angel.

“Need re-setting?” He gestured to Angel’s face.

“Yeah, go on, I won’t bite. Well, not too hard anyway.” Angel smiled. Spike reached over and placed his thumbs on either side of the damaged area and snapped Angel’s nose back into place.

“Not even a whimper!”

“It happens pretty much all the time. You get used to it.”

“Must say, since I got to know the Slayer, I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure. She’s popped me a good few times in the kisser!”

“She still does that?”

“Yeah, I think Joyce taught her!” Spike joked.

“How is she doing without her Mom?”

“Better, but it’s been tough. Money is tight and slaying doesn’t pay at all.” Spike swiftly cleaned Angel’s face and then wrapped his ribs tightly. Several were broken.

“Ouch,” Angel grumbled and gingerly prodded at the offending areas. “How tough?”

“Wot? The money?” Spike paused and gazed at Angel, considering his next words carefully.

“Why? You gonna help?” He knew that Angelus had squirreled away a massive fortune. He also knew that the souled git probably hadn’t touched a penny of it. It was blood money after all… would probably chaff at his soul to use it, but maybe he could set up something to help the slayer and her sis.

“I could, but it’s…”

“…Blood money. Yeah, I get that. Maybe you could set up a trust fund, put it to good use. She needs money or else she is going to crumble under the pressure. Those tossers at the council probably wouldn’t piss on her if she was on fire!” Spike hesitated, he didn’t know if Buffy wanted Angel to know about Giles. He shrugged. No skin off his nose. “You know Giles ditched her and buggered off home. Told her she needed to grow up.”

“Grow up?” Angel asked shocked. “Grow up? Where the hell does he get off saying that? She’s incredible.”

“I know. I think the git was too scared to stay and watch her grow away from him. I know he sulked most of last year when she was in college. I think it dawned on him that she was gradually beginning to realise she didn’t need him.” Spike lay back carefully. “He didn’t handle her death well either, but then who of us did?” He let out a loud sigh of relief. “What I’m most worried about is that she’ll get some crap job. Work long hours, flipping burgers or serving beers to arses not fit enough to lick her boots. She’s too proud to ask for help. Her friends are pretty much useless… Well, except for Glinda.”

“Glinda? Who’s she?” Angel interrupted Spike’s diatribe. He was used to his Childe’s long commentaries and his predilection for nicknames.

“Glinda? She’s Red’s ex. Now, that one is getting in over her head as well.” He turned his head to eye Angel who was watching him with a perplexed smile on his face. “Tara, she’s a White Wiccan, lotta power. You ever need someone to chant a chant, drop her a line. She lives with Buffy.”

“Good to know,” Angel commented as he lowered himself onto his back next to Spike. “Much better.” He sighed in relief. “We’re getting to old for this!”

“Too right, but I would like to keep Buffy alive long enough for her to say that to me.” Spike rested his hand on his ribs. They were starting to itch, a sign of healing. “Angel, if you can help, it’d be good, otherwise she’s gonna get killed fighting tired.”

“It’s done. I’ll set it up when we go downstairs. You need any money?”

“What the hell’s gotten into you, Peaches?”

“William, do you need money as well?” Angel repeated patiently.

“Well, yeah, could do with a few bob.”

“All your old accounts still in place?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do a transfer.”

“Thanks,” Spike muttered.

“Spike, I’m sorry for starting the fight.”

“Sorry for kicking the tar outta you.”

“You’ve gotten better. Buffy?”

“Yep, she keeps me on my toes. Sire, you going to be alright with the two of us getting together?” Spike closed his eyes. He knew it was a loaded question but he need to know.

“Rather you than that idiot she was dating last year,” Angel replied carefully.

“White bread? What an arse! He stuck me with a plastic stake once. Wanker.”

Angel glowered at Spike’s revelation, another black mark against the soldier. Before he could say anything to soothe his childe’s feelings, Spike groaned and rubbed his head.

“One decent thing that came outta the git being around was the bloody chip. Took away the blood lust long enough for me to realise why I was obsessed with Buffy.”

“He does like his toy surprises!” Angel winced, remembering Riley tasering him once the boy had realised that he couldn’t win in a fair fight.

“He got you too?”

“Taser… When he couldn’t get the upper hand.”

“Tosser.”

“Completely!” Angel wondered over their bonding over their love’s ex. Spike’s next revelation froze him to the core.

“He got into suck-jobs, paid these vamp skanks. You should have seen them.Rough as hell!

It was a while before I found out and gave her the heads up. That’s why I got the plastic staking. From what I can gather, it was ‘forgive me for the vamp sucks now, or I hop on a Huey and bugger off tonight’.”

“Forgive and forget or I leave?” Angel asked, aghast.

“’Bout the size of it,” Spike muttered.

“He could have been turned.”

“S’what I thought.” Spike risked a quick look at Angel. He could practically see smoke coming out of his reset nose.

“He could have turned Buffy in her bed. Killed her family.”

“Slayer would never have known what hit her.”

“This was the man she told me she loved?” Angel asked, aghast at Riley’s stupidity. Angel couldn’t believe it. He had left her so she could have a normal life. Instead, she had managed to find some idiot who got off on bloodletting. He had let his mate down.

“I don’t know if she really loved him or if she was following her mate’s wishes and moving on to someone normal, human. The Bit mentioned to me that you told her to find a bloke. One who could give her the American Dream. You know, kiddies, white picket fence and sunshine. Cornbread was her attempt at that. I think all it showed her was that she needed more.” Spike wondered if his ploy had worked. He wanted Angel to realise that being abandoned as his sire’s mate made Buffy vulnerable.

“She does need more, Will, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, Peaches.”

“He was never going to be the one, was he?” Angel rubbed his hands over his face, avoiding his still aching nose. Then he sighed and smiled. “Thank God!”

When Spike saw Angel’s relieved smile, he returned it. Neither of them felt especially bad for Riley. They shared a grin, masculine pride warring with their better nature but they were unable to resist a small gloat.

“We’re pathetic.” Angel glanced over at Spike and shook his head.

“Yeah, but at least we know she loves us, unlike the cardboard git. He should have had rebound tattooed on his arse. You know he shagged the other Slayer when she swiped Buffy’s body that time. He never even cottoned on!”

“What?” Angel roared and sat up, clutching his ribs. “He did what! He couldn’t tell? No wonder Buffy was hell bent on getting to Faith. I’m an idiot! ”

“Sire, even I didn’t cotton on, until I had a think. By then it was all over. I think that was the beginning of the end for soldier boy.” Spike paused and eyed the glowering vamp. “Why are you finally admitting you can be an idiot?”

“I didn’t know. When she came to LA, said Faith had played with her life, I supported Faith and broke Buffy’s heart. Again.” Angel felt even worse.

“You went against your mate and supported the dark slayer? You need your head checked!”

“I know. God, I have made some big mistakes with Buffy.”

“You have, but she has forgiven you. Trust me on this.”

“But the claim…”

“Yeah? What of it?” Spike sat up. “Look, be honest here. You just said you’d rather it were me that corn boy, right?” Angel nodded. “I know you love her.” Angel nodded again. “She does love you but, Angel, she’s grown and changed. Her love for you has also grown and changed. Can you accept that?” Angel grudgingly nodded again.

Spike lit a cigarette and puffed on it, eyeing the burning ember. He chose his next words carefully, not wanting to destroy the tentative friendship they had established. “Sire, let her break the claim. It’s time to move on. I swear on all that’s unholy she will still love you after it’s broken. It’ll just be a different kind of love. Her heart is big enough for both of us. I can live with that. Well, I’ll have to live with that, just like she has to live with the fact that Dru still has a bit of my heart, but can you live with the fact that she will also love me?”

Angel stood and walked over to the crib. He remained there, thinking long enough for Spike to finish his cigarette and light another. His shoulders slumped. Without turning to face Spike, he finally answered him.

“I can.”

* * * * *

The two vampires came down the stairs, a study in contrasts.

Light and Dark.

Buffy watched them, trying to gauge the situation. Both of them smiled tentatively at her and relief flooded through her. They came to a stop in front of her. Spike slid his arm around her slender waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. Angel gently touched her bruised eye, the guilt in his eyes nearly made her cry.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do this to you.”

“It’s alright, Angel. Really.” She smiled at him.

“The three of us need to talk. Come into my office.” Angel headed in, ignoring Wesley who sat talking quietly with Lorne and Groo. He paused. “Where’s Cordy?”

“She’s gone home,” Lorne offered with a shrug. Angel nodded. He had been surprised at her outburst but he realised that she was insecure when it came to Buffy. He hoped that maybe, once everything had been sorted out, the seer would be happier.

“Buffy, why didn’t you tell me how hard it has been?” Angel asked as he sat at his desk, gesturing for his remaining family to sit. “Spike told me that the Council has not been forthcoming with financial support.”

“Buffy flushed bright red. She was mortified that Angel knew that she couldn’t cope. “I… I didn’t know that anyone knew.” She stared pointedly at her embarrassed lover. Spike shifted uncomfortably.

“Pet, I’m sorry.”

“William, don’t be. Buffy, you should have called and talked to me. I can and will help.” Angel held up a hand to forestall any arguments she might raise. “You are and always will be my family and I look after people I love.”

“Angel, I don’t want anything from you except for the ritual.”

“We are not discussing that, yet. I need all you bank details. If you haven’t got them with you, then just give me an account number. This is not open for discussion. If it helps, look at the money as alimony.”

“What? You mean that you’ll do the ritual?” she gasped.

“Yes, but first I need to know that you will never have to worry about money. There is enough for you to worry about without wondering where the next mortgage payment is coming from.” He rifled through his desk and pulled out an old leather diary, flicking through until he found the numbers he needed. “Buffy, your chequebook please?”

“Here.” Spike searched through her rucksack, pulled out her pocket book and tossed it over onto the desk. Angel nodded his thanks.

“Spike, what are you doing?”

“Luv, we are both making sure that you never lose that gorgeous smile. Let him help.” Spike gently added, “He needs to do this for you.” Then, he pulled out his ace. “Do it for Dawn.”

Buffy bit her lip and studied both of her vampires, a small frown appearing between her brows.

Angel ignored her as he began making a series of calls, so she turned to Spike and pouted at him.

“Won’t work, slayer. This is a done deal.”

“Who is he calling at this time of night?”

“London. It’s a bank set up for creatures of the night.” Spike waggled his brows at her, trying to get her to smile. He smirked at her surprise. “Oh come on, you don’t think that there weren’t places set up for the demon community. I mean, can you imagine Clem going into Sunnydale Savings and Loans to make a deposit?”

“Well, no I guess not...” She trailed off, completely thrown by the strange turn of events. Before she could say anything else Angel interrupted them.

“Who holds the papers on the house?”

“Uh, Sunnydale Savings and Loan,” she offered. Angel nodded his thanks and spoke briefly into the receiver. Spike rose and disappeared into the other room. She could hear him moving about and talking quietly with the others. Buffy studied the walls of the office and tried to ignore Angel. She felt slightly embarrassed about the two of them knowing about her near bankruptcy but Joyce Summers hadn’t raised a fool. Buffy knew that she would be a complete idiot if she didn’t let Angel do this for her.

“It’s done.” Angel put down the receiver and turned to face her.

“So do I get childe support for Spike?” Buffy quipped. She raised a brow at Angel. Her jaw dropped when he burst out into a deep rumbling laugh. She giggled too.

“What’s so funny?” Spike reappeared carrying two mugs of warmed blood in one hand and a coffee in the other.

“Buffy asked for childe support.” Angel chuckled. He was relieved that Buffy wasn’t going to fight him over the money that had just been transferred into her account.

“Very funny, slayer, but Gramps here is setting up a trust fund for his grandson!” Spike handed a mug of blood over to the smiling Angel.

“Thanks, Spike.” To Buffy’s complete surprise, he took the mug and began to sip at it. At her look, he replied, “Oh, yeah. Well, Cordy sorta made me drink when they all ate.”

“She’s a good friend, isn’t she?” Buffy cautiously asked. She wanted to know more but knew that Angel probably would keep quiet. He was still a private man

“She is. It’s just that there has been a lot for her to process recently. The visions were killing her, so she had to choose between death and becoming part-demon.”

“Well, that explains the glowiness,” Buffy interjected.

“Yes, she is still adjusting. It’s hard for her. The demon in her amplifies her emotions. That’s why she was saying those things earlier. Then there’s Groo.” Angel leaned forward. “She wasn’t really expecting to see him again. Now he’s here and she is trying to adjust her life to include him as well. She loves him.” Pain filled his eyes.

“Peaches, she doesn’t love him.”

Hope filled Angel’s heart. He tried not to show it on his face. He knew that Spike never missed a thing. “You’re sure?”

“Come on, you great ninny! She’s all over you. Look how pissed off she got when the slayer appeared.”

“Angel, have you looked at Groo? Talk about creepy make over… She made him look like you!” Buffy added. “Not that you’re creepy. It’s just a bit weird doing that to him!”

Angel peered out of the window at the Pylean. He nodded. “Was she trying to make him more like me?”

“Duh!” Buffy grinned at Angel. She wasn’t thrilled at his choice of Cordelia but at least she didn’t feel as bad as she did earlier. He wasn’t going to be alone. “Angel, about the money… thank you!” She reached over and took his free hand and squeezed. “You have no idea how much it means to me.”

Angel squeezed her hand back, enjoying her warmth and strength. “My pleasure. If you ever need anything, call me.”

“It goes both ways, Angel. Next time something happens, call us.”

He nodded.

“Promise me.” She tugged on his fingers.

“I promise.” He smiled tentatively.

“Good. Now, about Wes.” Buffy raised her eyebrow at the thunderous expression on Angel’s face. “Hey, stop with the bad moodiness. I know you’re probably never gonna forgive him so Spike and I are headhunting him.”

“You’re going to shrink his head? That works for me!” Angel joked.

“Hey! No, he’s coming back to Sunnydale to help with the research. We have a Watcher vacancy.” Buffy struggled not to tear up. She managed to control herself when Spike pressed his knee against hers, offering his silent support. “Giles has gone back to England so I’m taking Wes. Okay?”

Angel paused for a moment trying to control himself. He glared over at his former friend, who was watching the three of them closely through the window. Wesley returned his gaze levelly, not backing down. He couldn’t hear what was being said but knew he was being discussed.

Angel sighed. “Okay! Fine, take him. Just watch your backs,” he warned, allowing his anger to surface for a brief moment.

“Always do, Sire.”

“Angel, when you’re ready, you should talk to him. He really was trying to help…” Buffy stopped at the closed expression on Angel’s face. ‘Well, at least I managed to plant the idea...’

“No.” He gulped from the mug and placed it back on the desk.

“Ready to do this, Sire?” Spike asked. He knew that Buffy would skirt around initiating the ritual, not wanting to hurt Angel. He tried to ignore Buffy’s raised heartbeat as she began to get nervous.

Angel hesitated for a second and then nodded. He rose reluctantly to his feet and stood waiting.

“We’ll need witnesses. Lorne and Groo can do it. I’m not having Wesley anywhere near the ceremony.

“It’s alright. I’ll just pack my books and reference materials whilst you are performing the ceremony.” Wesley appeared from Cordelia’s office and leant against the door jam. He stared at Angel, waiting for the Irish vampire to challenge him.

“Fine, take your stuff. Just stay out of my way.” Angel swept out of the office to talk to Lorne and Groo, leaving Buffy and Spike.

“You okay?” Buffy touched Wesley’s arm. Spike stood next to her and raised his dark eyebrows in a silent question.

“I’ll be fine. Good luck.”

* * * * *

Now that the time had come for the ceremony, Angel couldn’t keep his emotions suppressed. He had put on a brave face. The talk with Spike had helped. They had bonded. He knew, in time, that the two of them could hopefully become friends but he was devastated. He knew that this was the final nail in the coffin of his relationship with his beloved. It was too much for him and he broke.

“Buffy, please don’t do this,” he begged, falling to his knees. “I’m sorry I let you down. Please think about this.” He knew it was wrong, holding on to her. He also knew it was because he had lost everything else he had cared about.

Buffy closed her eyes. She was trying hard to be strong. Buffy knew that one of them had to find the strength to continue or else they would be stuck in the same holding pattern indefinitely. She was also aware that her third spin on the wheel of life would be her last. Buffy knew that she wanted to spend it with Spike. She and Angel had loved each other but now it was her and Spike’s time.

“Angel, you will always have a piece of my heart but it’s time for us both to find happiness.”

She touched the top of his bowed head gently. “Look at me, Angel. What we had, it was beautiful but also sad. I have never cried as much as I did when we were together. Our relationship was doomed from the get go. The curse, my friends, our circumstances, they all worked against us. We both deserve to find someone who makes us smile. I’m sorry. I know it’s tough for you. The curse is something you have to overcome but do it for yourself. Angel, I’m happy! Spike makes me happy. Please understand!” she begged.

“I can’t move on. I told you this before. This is it for me. You can move on but I’m stuck in the shadows.”

“Angel, you can and have moved on. I don’t think you realise how much. You’ve built a wonderful life and you have good friends who all love you. You have Connor.” When he shook his head at this, Buffy sighed. “Angel, the one thing I learned the hard way since I came back is that there is always hope. Don’t give up. Connor may not be here physically but he’s here.” She placed her hand over his heart. “He is also here.” She touched his temple lightly with her slender fingers.

“Buffy…” Angel took her hand and held it to her lips. “You have grown into an amazing woman.” He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. He nodded to Spike to get everything ready.

Angel watched Buffy as she began to prepare for the ceremony. She carefully poured the salt that Lorne had found in the kitchens into a perfect circle. She walked over to the bench where Spike had laid out all the tools they would need. Three black candles were lit with the peroxide vampire’s ever-present lighter. She would have preferred white but this was a demonic ritual. Buffy glanced up at Spike. He stood leaning against the rail, watching them both closely. Spike smiled in encouragingly and mouthed that he loved her. She took a deep breath to brace herself for what was to come.

Opening Spike’s knife, she dropped it into the steel bowl filled with rose-scented oil to cleanse it. She left it there as she reached for a bottle of pure spring water. She washed her hands and then dried them with a soft towel. She tried to ignore Lorne and Groo who were seated on another bench. Spike had been sidelined as he had too much riding on the outcome of the ritual. Wesley was elsewhere in the hotel, packing all of his books and loading them into the car.

She looked up at Spike again, drawing strength from his still form.

“Angel, it’s time. Do you agree that you claimed me without my consent?”

“It was the demon. I didn’t.”

“Angel, you are the demon. You may have a soul but you are still a demon.”

“I have a soul. I am not all demon, not like him. How can you sleep with him? It’s Spike!” Angel argued, desperate to stop the ceremony. He knew that what he was doing was wrong but he loved her. He also felt bad using Spike as a last attempt to appeal to Buffy, especially after the two of them had made such progress. He avoided the understanding blue eyes that were filled with both sympathy and anger at the same time.

“I love him,” she said simply.

“What about our love?” he argued.

“Angel, I did love you but it was a long time ago. We were both different then. We have grown and changed. Angel, I died. You moved on. I don’t blame you! I would never have expected you not to. You have a son, which pretty much shows what you think of the claim,” she added sadly.

“But I love you! Connor… well, he’s the best thing that happened to me since I came here to LA but you are my heart, my inspiration and guiding light. Without you, I’d still be in a gutter somewhere drinking rat’s blood. You saved me!”

“Angel, don’t do this. It’s not fair!” Her eyes filled with tears, unable to stay strong in the face of his begging and agony. Lorne and Groo shifted, uncomfortable to be witnessing Angel’s heart breaking. They remained quiet.

“It’s not fair to abandon my claim. We love each other,” he tried to reason.

“Angel, we’ve been over this. I never wanted to be claimed. I didn’t even know what it meant. You never lived up to your responsibilities. You abandoned me. Yes, I loved you once. I still love you…” She held her hand up to stop him from interrupting her. “…But the way I love you is as a brother or a father figure. Maybe this is not the way you want me to love you but that is what we have now.” She cupped his face in her trembling hands. “Please don’t ruin what we have left,” she begged, trying not to burst into tears.

“Buffy!” He leant into her soft touch. He knew that it was finally over. Everything he had clung to was over.

“Angel, this isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of something new… for both of us.” Buffy sobbed. She had lost her battle against her sorrow. “I know it’s difficult but it’s healthy, for both of us! I promise it will get better for you. I will help. I promise.”

Angel nodded, finally accepting that this was the end of their relationship and hoping that something else would begin in its place.

* * * * *

Cordelia pulled the jeep over and parked. She had been driving aimlessly around the block trying to get a handle on the situation. She took a deep breath and looked into the rear view mirror. Her brown eyes stared back, revealing nothing.

‘I need to talk to Angel, tell him there is something going on with me.’ Cordy absently chewed her thumbnail, ruining her manicure. ‘Maybe Skip could tell me what’s going on.’ Cordelia dismissed the idea quickly. She had no idea how to summon her guide, or even if he would be able help her. The powers seemed to only intervene when there was an apocalypse. Cordy instinctively knew that whatever was going on with her was not something important enough for them to care or even help.

Cordelia needed her friends’ help but after the way she had behaved, Cordy doubted they would be prepared to research anything. There was way too much going on at the moment. Cordy winced. She was embarrassed and ashamed about the way she had behaved.

“Poor Buffy! She must have wondered what the hell she had done for me to freak out like that,” Cordelia muttered. Resting her aching head on the steering wheel, she began to sob uncontrollably.

The seer also didn’t know what to do about Groo. He had just appeared, expecting her to fall into his arms but there was someone else, Angel. She really cared about the vampire, maybe even loved him but after realising what Groo had given up to come to her, she had tried to make the Pylean champion happy. Nevertheless, the spark just wasn’t there anymore. Cordelia mentally winced at the makeover she had given the Pylean. The others hadn’t said anything but she knew that they were wondering what the hell was going on. ‘Poor Groo! I made him into an Angel clone.’

“I have to fix this!” Cordelia wiped her face and checked that her mascara hadn’t run. Turning the ignition, she pulled out into traffic and headed back to the Hyperion. She needed to apologise to everyone, talk to Groo and also check on Fred. Determination flooded her, suppressing the dark impulses for the moment.

* * * * *

Buffy began the ritual.

“I close my heart to you without reservation.” Her soft voice filled the quiet courtyard. Spike winced in sympathy for Angel.

She tried to ignore the pain she could see in Angel’s eyes. She turned her back on him, her smooth movement symbolising her rejection of his claim. Then, she spun back on her heel to face him, opening the knife she had borrowed from Spike. Her fingers slipped for a second, the rose scented oil made it hard to hold onto.

She reached over and took hold of Angel’s shaking arm. Bracing herself, Buffy cut Angel’s wrist. She deliberately chose his left, the closest to the hand on which he had worn the Claddagh ring.

She wryly noted that he no longer wore it.

“I retake that which you took from me.” She leant over and pressed her mouth to Angel’s shaking wrist and sucked a mouthful of his blood. She swallowed the lukewarm liquid, showing that she was reclaiming the blood he had drunk from her.

“I return it,” Angel mumbled, staring longingly at her golden hair that fell over her face, tickling his bare arm. She nicked the scar he had left on her neck, drawing blood. He hesitated for a second and then leant over and licked the blood from the small wound. He suppressed a shudder. The power of her blood had increased since he last tasted it. He shifted slightly, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his trousers.

“That which was joined together as one is now cast off.” Angel winced. He felt like a piece of garbage that she had just thrown out. Buffy waited and then sighed. “Angel, please!”

“That which is cast off, shall remain so for all of eternity,” he mumbled resentfully, finally realising that he couldn’t change her mind. He looked at Buffy and fought back the tears that filled his eyes. Angel gasped as he felt a pain in his neck. “Buffy, it’s started.” She nodded in agreement. His bite mark was burning hot and throbbing.

“May our love that once shone, now be ended,” Buffy stated in a clear and firm voice.

“May our love that once shone, now be ended,” Angel echoed. The wind began to rise, rustling the scented jasmine in the courtyard. He shuddered as he felt the magic begin to take hold of him.

“Once we leave this circle of faith, the claim shall be broken.” Buffy looked at Angel and nodded for him to repeat the final words to end his claim. He shook his head. She stared sadly at him. “I can end this claim the dusty way.”

He nodded. “Once we leave this circle of faith, the claim shall be ended.” She smiled sadly and then stepped away from him for the first and last time. As she crossed over the circle of salt, her eyes flashed golden for a split second. Angel repeated her actions and his game face appeared as the same golden flash crossed his sad eyes.

“So mote it be,” they both intoned. As they uttered the closing words of the ceremony, the wind whistled around them, whipping Buffy’s hair around her face.

“Thank you, Angel,” she breathed.

He nodded, trying to ignore the empty void within him.

Spike came down the stairs and eyed them both worriedly. “You both okay?” When they both smiled tentatively, his entire frame relaxed. Spike reached over and pulled Buffy to him, kissing the pulse point on her left wrist. Lorne walked up to Angel and patted him on the shoulder. Then, he and Groo left to join Wesley in moving the last few boxes of books.

“Angel, I am sorry that this had to happen. I really am.”

“I know, Buffy. Just promise me you will be happy.”

“I promise.”

“And remember, we are still family even though the claim is gone. You and Spike are all I have left... well, except for Dru but somehow I can’t see her being much of a friend.” He looked hopefully at the blonde couple. “Well, not like I hope the two of you will be.”

“Angel, we will both always be there for you. I love you. Always will.” Buffy reached over and smoothed his wrist where she had cut him. It was already healed but he shivered. She nudged Spike.

“Peaches, I’m always at the end of the line. Now that you’ve mentioned her, if you hear from Dru, give us a heads up. Don’t want her sniffing around the Bit or my lady.”

“William, I promise you’ll be the first to hear anything.”

“Spike, I guess we’d better head off. We need to get Wes packed and back home by this evening, or else Dawn will literally raise hell.”

“She bloody well better not!” Spike grumbled, all too aware of his Bit’s penchant for dabbling in magic she had no business touching.

Their voices faded away as they headed back into the hotel. None of them noticed the crackle of lightening or the portal that opened.

A slight figure thudded to the ground and lay there, unmoving.

“Dad?”

Everyone stopped talking.

Wesley dropped the box he was holding as he stared at the teen, who had suddenly appeared.

Buffy, Spike and Angel spun around to face the slender figure that had stumbled in after them.

Lorne dropped his glass before he had even taken the first sip of his much-anticipated Sea Breeze.

“Connor?” Angel stepped forward hesitantly, flanked by Buffy and Spike.

“God! He has Darla’s eyes!” Spike muttered.

“Connor!” Angel leapt forward, grabbed hold of his son and hugged him. Connor returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around his father and holding on tight. “You’re alive!”

“What the hell is going on?” Gunn shouted as he ran down the stairs. “There was a flash of light outside our window.” He skidded to a halt. “Who’s that?”

“Connor. It’s my son, Connor.” Angel turned to his friends, his arm wrapped protectively around his son’s shoulders. Once his initial shock at his son’s arrival began to fade, he suddenly registered the fact that his son was naked. He pulled off his coat and swathed the prodigal in its leather folds. The young man smiled his thanks and began to fasten it closed.

“But Connor’s a baby.” Gunn stared at the newcomer cautiously.

“No, that’s definitely Peaches’ son. He has his scent,” Spike stated. “By the way... Punk? Barbie? Not funny or original! Git!”

“You’re Spike. She told me about you. She said to trust you… said you were a sure-footed bastard on the battlefield,” Connor offered as he stared at Spike. “She didn’t say anything about you having weird hair.”

Spike preened at the complement and then glowered at the little sod. “I don’t have weird hair,” he complained.

“Connor, who told you about Spike?” Buffy asked cautiously.

“My mother,” he answered simply. “You’re Buffy, right? She said that you were the Slayer.”

“One of them.” She walked over and held her hand out. Connor stared at it, confused.

“Take it, son, and shake it,” Angel coaxed.

“It’s really good to finally meet you, Connor.” Buffy took the boy’s hand between hers and held it gently. She could feel the calluses on his palm and wondered where he got them. The familiar placement of the calluses made her suspect that they were from handling weapons and fighting daily to survive. She smiled and pulled him into a hug. Connor relaxed into her warm embrace.

“You smell good. It makes me feel safe,” the teen whispered against her ear. Buffy ruffled his hair as she stepped back and tucked herself against Spike.

“Connor, you said your mom told you about us?” Angel asked. “I don’t understand.”

“She said the Powers let her come to me in my dreams to make sure that Holtz wouldn’t poison me against you and our family. Mother said that if they didn’t intercede, things would get bad.” Connor paused to breathe, unused to talking for so long. “Holtz tried to tell me he was my father.”

“Bloody hell!” Spike interrupted the teen. “Sorry, kid. Go on.”

“Dad, he tried so hard to turn me against you. Every day he trained me he tried to… Mother said he was trying to in-indoctrinate me. Is that the right word?” He turned to Angel, who nodded. “But she came. Every night, for as long as I can remember, she said I was the only good thing she had ever done, how she loved me and died so I could live.” Connor hesitated for a moment. “She used to cry a lot ‘cos she couldn’t hold me.”

Angel twitched when he heard Connor repeat Darla’s final words to him. It confirmed that it was truly Darla who had watched over their son. “She told me the same thing just before she died.”

“Angel?” Cordelia walked slowly into the hotel, avoiding everyone’s eyes. She looked like she had been crying. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, her eyes red and swollen. She had been driving around LA, trying to work out why she had been so awful. Finally, she had realised that she needed to go back and face Buffy and the rest of them. She needed to apologise.

“I came to say I was sorry.” She turned to Buffy, who eyed her cautiously. “Buffy, I’m so sorry. I was in total bitch mode.”

“Um, it’s alright.” Buffy gazed in surprise at her former school friend. Relief flooded through Cordelia. She smiled and nodded her thanks. Turning to Angel, she noticed the young man with him and paused for a second, confused.

“Angel, who’s the… Oh my God! Connor?” Cordelia stepped forward and pressed her hands to her mouth. She burst into tears and threw herself at both father and son. “You’re back!” The three of them held onto each other.

Groo turned to Wesley. “Is there room for me to come with you today?”

“Yes. Come on. I’ll help you pack.”

“No, I am ready.” Groo gestured to the duffle bag he had packed before the ritual. He had decided to leave everything Cordelia had picked out for him and start afresh.

“Let’s go. We’ll wait in the car.” Wes caught Spike’s eye and gestured that he would be outside. Wesley knew there was nothing he could say or do, so he made a quiet exit, followed closely by the Pylean Champion. Groo kept his eyes on Cordelia as he left unnoticed. Wes was pleased that Connor had returned but he couldn’t face the boy, not after robbing him of his father and his childhood.

“Angel? We’d better be going. Dawn’ll be waiting for us,” Buffy said softly, unwilling to break up the family reunion. She was relieved that Angel had people to help him after the ritual. She felt better leaving him with Connor and Cordelia but she felt slightly uncomfortable with Angel’s open affection. When he had been with her it had been a struggle just to get him to agree to meet for coffee in a public place. ‘Guess LA is good for him… well, that and Cordelia!’

Angel disentangled himself and stepped over to his former mate. “You were right. Things can get better. Thank you.” He stroked the back of his hand over her cheek. “Spike look after her …or else.” Angel left the threat open for interpretation.

“Yeah! Yeah! You’ll stake me, good and proper. Join the queue!” Spike smirked and nodded at his sire before taking Buffy’s arm.

“Angel, thank you for everything. I mean everything. Be happy.” She smiled at him.

“Sire! Not too happy. Also, can I make a suggestion? Find a cure and find it fast. I’ll have a nose around my end… see if anything turns up.” Angel nodded and gripped Spike’s shoulder pulling him close.

“Thank you, Childe. Look after her,” he whispered. Angel pulled a blanket from the back of an armchair by the office and handed it to his irrepressible Childe. He nodded his farewell before taking Connor by the shoulders. The two blondes strode out of the hotel, smiling and waving goodbye to the entire group. Gunn and Lorne looked slightly disappointed at their brief visit and abrupt exit.

* * * * *

Spike pulled open the passenger door to help Buffy into the car before dashing over to the driver side and getting in. He started in surprise when he spotted the large Angel look-alike. Glancing over his shoulder at Wesley, he asked, “Watcher, anything you want to tell me?”

Wesley peered over the top of the boxes on his lap and smiled sheepishly. Buffy tried not to laugh as she heard Spike muttering something about stray dogs and playing mother hen. She turned to face the stoic Pylean and smiled welcomingly.

"Okaay! Wesley! Care to explain why your books have developed muscles?" Spike eyed the latest addition to his car. "I think Peaches is gonna notice that we swiped another one of his crew. It's not like I can tuck him into my duster and smuggle him outta LA!"

Buffy sniggered at Spike and rolled her eyes. "Spike, shut up and drive. I think you are supposed to be helping spring the guy, not hanging around until they notice!" She turned to the silent Groo. "Sorry. I'm guessing that Wesley asked you to come along?"

The Pylean examined the girl's radiant face. Since the ritual had been performed, it appeared that all her strain and worries had been lifted. "I think that my time here is done. If it is not any trouble, I would like to assist in your endeavours on the Hellmouth?"

"Heck, no! The more the merrier!" she chirped and turned to face Wesley. "You know the way to Cordy's apartment?"

"Yes. Why?" Wesley's muffled voice asked. When he spoke, the boxes on his lap shifted, causing him to grab at them to keep them from sliding off.

"Well, I figure Groo here has a load of stuff he wants to get while the coast is clear."

Groo shook his head. "No, I decided leave everything with her. Nothing is mine …well, except for some weapons…" Groo trailed off, thinking longingly of the pair of daggers he had brought with him from Pylea.

Buffy noticed the look of longing on his face. She knew that expression well, as she usually got it when Giles pulled out a new knife or throwing star for her to practise with. With that thought, she made up her mind. "Wes, directions? Spike, can we go to Cordy's?" Spike didn't answer. He just kissed her softly and started the engine.

"Well, are we going?" Spike eyed the newcomer, unsure what to make of him. He smelled non-human, which in itself was not a big deal. It was the proto-Peaches look that threw him. Spike wondered if he could get the bloke to grow out the Poofy hair-don't.

Before Groo could answer Spike, Buffy's stomach let out a deep growl. She blushed and wrapped her arms around her waist trying to muffle the noise. Spike arched his scarred brow at the flustered girl. "So how's about a stop at Denny's before we visit the Cheerleader's place?"

"Please. I can't remember the last time I ate anything." Buffy nodded enthusiastically at the vampire.

Spike grinned, relieved that his girl's appetite was returning. He turned and squinted at Groo. "I think the Cheerleader'll probably be busy for a few hours here." He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "Let's get some grub in the lot of you, 'cause I think we'll need something to keep us going!”

* * * * *

A few hours later, after a long and lazy breakfast, Wesley, Groo and Buffy stood outside Cordelia's apartment, having left Spike in the safety of the Desoto.

"Dennis, would you just let me in? Groo simply wants to pick up some of his weapons and clothes and then we’ll all leave you to haunt Cordy in peace." Wesley sighed and rested his head on the firmly locked door.

"First of all… impressive security system Cordy has… live-in spook? Secondly, do you think he checks her out in the shower?" Buffy quipped and looked slightly grossed out at the thought of some incorporeal Peeping Tom. Before Groo or Wesley could answer, the door opened and two packed suitcases and a large box filled with weapons were pushed out. The three stood and watched as the door slammed shut.

Buffy poked at one of the suitcases with her foot. "Just a guess here... Dennis... Kinda jealous?" She squinted over at the Desoto and shaded her eyes from the sun, wondering how on earth they were going to fit everything into the black classic. That was until she spotted a 24 hour car lot just down the street. "Can you guys get the stuff to the car? I'll be back in a minute." She trotted over to the idling car. After a brief conversation with Spike through the window, Buffy turned, waved and jogged off down the street.

"Oi, can you two shove those in the back seat and follow me down to Buffy?" Spike's voice broke their contemplation of Groo's summary ejection from the apartment. The two men dragged everything down to the car and shoved it into the backseat.

"So, it appears that Dennis was happy to help you pack," Wesley commented as he and Groo followed the Desoto on foot. He peered ahead, wondering what Buffy was doing. He could see her waving her arms about and pointing at the back of the car, while Spike cursed a blue streak.

“I do not think he was very pleased to share Cordelia with me. I wonder what will happen to him once she decides to move into the hotel to be closer to Angel and his son.” Groo kept pace with Wesley. He observed the tired watcher stumble, slightly concerned.

As they arrived, they heard Spike complaining, "One scratch on my baby and I am feeding your favourite Jimmy Choo sandals to the next Malmnar Demon I find on patrol." Buffy just rolled her eyes at him and flounced off.

Wesley leant over and peered through the crack in the driver’s window. "Malmnar Demon?"

"Little fur balls, like to eat leather. One of the buggers managed to take a massive bite outta the duster here, and did she do her job? Noooo. She started pointing and laughing. Thought she was gonna wet herself at one point!" Spike omitted to add that, by that point, he was on top of a mausoleum screaming, "Get it off me!" He knew that he must have looked like a stereotypical scared housewife, standing on a chair, holding up her skirts and screaming for the cat to come kill the mouse. He also didn't want to admit to poking the evil, little bastard with a stick to keep it away from his precious coat until the Slayer had composed herself enough to pull the hairball with teeth from the Mausoleum and drop kick it into the nearest empty grave. 'Not one for the bragging books!'

There was a thunk and a rattle. Wesley and Groo turned and saw a flatbed trailer hooked onto the back of the car. Buffy danced around to their side and began transferring all the boxes and suitcases out of the car and onto the trailer.

"Cool, huh? The guy who rented it to me said we could drop it at his friend’s lot in Sunnydale once we've finished shifting your stuff. Well, come on. Your apartment is soo not going to pack itself."

"You might as well do what she says," Spike commented, as he sat in the shade of the car.

"Spike, Buffy, I really appreciate the help, especially since the police have had no luck in locating my car." Wes shifted in the now empty seat, trying to find a comfortable spot.

* * * * *

The sun had long since set by the time the Desoto and its passengers finally left Los Angeles. They had packed for most of the day, stopping only occasionally for drinks, snacks or 'a quick fag'. At one point, Spike and Wes had sent Buffy and Groo off hunting for boxes and crates to supplement the trunks Wesley had stored from his previous move. They had only had one major break for take out before finishing off the sorting of a couple of years of accumulated possessions. It had helped having three supernatural beings to pack, cutting down the Herculean task to just a day.

Once the final box was shifted onto the flat bed and lashed into place, the four new friends sighed with relief and collapsed into the car. Buffy was sitting quietly in the front seat, holding a rather large two-headed Zoroastrian statue carefully on her lap. The strain of the last few days finally caught up with her and she quickly fell asleep. Wesley managed to stay awake for a few minutes longer before the combination of his meds and the injury he was still recovering from overcame him and he, too, drifted off, leaving Spike and Groo to converse quietly. The vampire was driving much more slowly than he normally would to accommodate the additional weight of the flatbed.

Crash!

"Ahhh! What are you doing Spike?" Buffy yelled, as she was jolted awake. Wesley didn’t react to the disturbance and remained asleep.

"It is tradition," Groo offered.

"What? Scaring the crap outta sleeping slayers!" she whined, peering out of the window. Buffy spotted the flattened ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign behind them. She turned to the smirking idiot next to her and glared at him.

"What? It's tradition!" he said defensively, trying not to laugh at the image Buffy presented. She was wrapped around Wesley's statue with one of the ram's heads clenched between her thighs and her huge eyes peering over the top of the other.

"Stop corrupting our nice, new friend! Bad Spike!" She shook her finger at him and then blushed when she realised the inappropriate position of Wesley's statue.

"Promise to spank me later, love?" Spike rumbled in his chest.

"If you two have quite finished, I believe we may have a problem." Wesley's disgruntled voice broke up the staring competition between the occupants of the front seat. "We appear to have a welcoming committee." He pointed at the large group of vampires that Spike’s impromptu sign killing had disturbed. Behind them were a few tents and a large crackling fire.

"Vamps... camping? Wonder if they have any s’mores?" Buffy quipped, as she began to pull stakes out of the glove box. She tossed a couple to Spike, while Groo and Wesley pulled out the two swords they had found in the umbrella stand as they were leaving Wes’ now empty apartment. Not wanting to leave them behind, they had laid them out in the back of the car. Wes had worried about his landlord wondering if he was a Zorro wannabe. "Those heavy enough for the head chopping off?" She eyed the thinnish swords doubtfully, as she passed over a couple of stakes as well.

"They will suffice if enough strength is behind them," Groo explained gravely, never taking his eyes off the group that was now approaching the Desoto.

"So, Blue-eyes, you know how to do in a vamp?"

"Fire, beheading or a stake through the heart," Groo answered. "Angel explained that the heart is here…" Groo pointed to the left of his chest. "…And not here." When he pointed to his backside, Buffy and Spike gave him a very odd look.

"Long story," Wesley offered, as they all leapt from the car. Buffy moved to stand back-to-back with Wesley. Spike nodded, realising that his usual fighting partner was going to keep an eye on the still recuperating Watcher. He leapt gracefully onto the roof of the car and shook his head, his blue eyes melting into gold whilst his teeth lengthened into fangs. Groo came around and stood to Wesley's right. Buffy turned to Spike and nodded slightly, indicating that he was to hold back so that they could check out the skills of the two new additions to the Scooby gang.

Before either of them could blink, Groo had staked two vamps and beheaded another. He fought methodically and smoothly. Spike was forced to acknowledge that the Incredible Hulk knock off, ‘minus the green body paint’, could actually fight.

“Love, here’s one for the books! We finally got someone who can tell which end of a stake to use.”

“I’m trying to fight here, Spike!” Buffy grunted as she took a hit to her stomach.

“At least he isn’t unconscious and being rescued by a bird!” Spike shouted over the sound of a vampire dusting.

Buffy turned to face Spike, her hands on her hips. “Leave Xander alone!” she yelled, stomping her foot.

Spike grinned at his girl’s childish behaviour. “Oh pouty… I’m gonna get it!” Buffy rolled her eyes and staked the vampire who had crept up behind her, thinking that she wasn’t paying attention.

“You’re not gonna get anything unless you help! Leave the comedy to the ones who can’t fight.” Her eyes twinkled wickedly as she mouthed Xander’s name and spun back to the fight.

Spike leapt off the car and over Buffy's head, landing on the back of a vamp that had nearly got under Wesley's guard. With a swift lunge, Spike dusted the skinny vampire. He straightened and watched Wesley swipe off the head of his other opponent with relish. Their eyes met and Spike nodded with approval. Wesley saluted him with his sword and turned back to rejoin the fight.

“You’re doing good for a bloke who’s trained to watch little girls fight your fights, Watcher!” Spike shouted over his shoulder at Wesley. “Peaches could learn a bit from you.”

“Thanks and piss off!” Wesley panted as he finally managed to stake the vampire that he had engaged.

Occasionally, Spike had to take out some git who tried to escape Buffy's fists or the two new fighters' swords. He watched as his girl flew from opponent to opponent, a blur of blonde hair and leather. He grew hard watching her. Unable to resist the dance, he threw himself into the fight with relish, making short work of the few remaining vampires.

“That was bracing!” Wesley's eyes glittered in the light from the campfire as he pushed his remaining adversary into the blaze and watched in satisfaction as she dusted.

"Nothing better than a good fight to work out the kinks after a drive," Spike purred as he stretched. "Good brawl!" he grudgingly offered to Groo and Wesley, trying not to choke on his words.

"Yeah, Wesley, you have gotten really good! Much better than the passing out approach to fighting!" Buffy teased with a big smile on her face.

Spike tried not to be too obvious about sniffing Buffy as she slid under his arm and wrapped herself around him. The scent of her arousal was overwhelming. 'She's all hot and bothered from the fight, too.' Spike resisted the temptation he had to throw her over his shoulder and introduce her to the joys of sex in a tent. He eyed the colourful tents ruefully and then paused, sniffing the air.

"What do you sense?" Groo stepped up next to Spike, his eyes trained on his new friend.

"Fledglings... A bunch of them, in the caravan at the end." Spike motioned to the dark shape at the far end of the campsite. He paused and briefly sniffed the air once more, hoping he had been wrong. The strong smell of sex gave him an idea as to what the campsite was set up for. He turned to Buffy and the others. "Let me have a quick look see first." He raised a hand to stop Buffy's objections. "Please, luv?" he asked softly. Buffy nodded briefly.

They approached the caravan silently. Buffy gestured for Spike to go in first as he had asked. He disappeared inside. As she tried to follow him, Spike blocked her progress, quickly reversing out of the dank caravan. When he emerged, she was surprised to see him shaking. She could tell that he was furious. "Wesley, can you take the Slayer back to the car?"

"What's going on, Spike?" she asked.

"Nothing for you to worry ‘bout, love. Trust me?" Spike asked, as he took an unneeded breath and held it. Buffy examined his face closely before nodding and walking away with Wesley.

"What manner of horror lies within, so foul that you wish to protect the Slayer from it?" Groo asked.

"You know, mate, even when I was at my worst I was not a sick fuck!" Spike glared at the campsite, wishing he could re-form the dusted vampires and then kill them again, slowly and painfully.

"Come on, let’s get this over with." Spike opened the door and Groo followed him in. The smells of sex and blood were strong. Spike tried to remain unaffected. His disgust showed plainly on his face as he stalked into the darkened caravan.

"Just do it quickly," Spike muttered as he staked one of the young girls, trying not to look too closely at the scantily clad forms. Groo moved away from Spike, staking the children of both sexes who had been forced into prostitution.

Spike kept mechanically staking the chained vampires… until he reached one that he recognised. He faltered for a second and dropped his stake, shocked to the core of his being. "You stupid cow!" Spike reached over and yanked Janice's head up by her hair. She looked blearily up into Spike's furious eyes. He had stopped breathing when he re-entered the hellhole but the shock of seeing Dawn’s friend here caused him to gasp. He could smell at least eight different males and a female on her, as well as a couple of demons whose scents he didn’t recognise. She was covered in bites and burns.

"Hey, aren't you the guy that takes care of Dawn?" Janice slurred. Spike flinched away from her. The stench of stale beer on her breath was disgusting. "Didn't guess you were a vamp!" She shook her head and showed Spike her game face. "Well, what are you waiting for? You can do me. I won't mind. You're kinda cute."

"Where's Dawn?" he whispered, terrified that either he or Groo may have staked her without realising it.

"I dunno. Haven't seen her for a week or so." Janice licked her lips and gazed at Spike hungrily.

Spike slumped in relief. His Bit was safe.

"Spike, that is the last one. Do you wish for me to put it down?" Groo came over and stood next to Spike, resting his hand on the vampire's shuddering shoulder. Spike shook his head and reached for the stake that he had dropped. Fumbling for a second, he raised his arm. The distressed vampire's knuckles turned white as he gripped the smooth wooden stake in his hand.

"No, I'll do it." He looked at Janice in contempt. "You silly bitch, what'll I say when I talk to Dawn?" Before Janice could answer him, she dissolved into dust.

Spike turned to Groo and smiled grimly. "Welcome to the Hellmouth." He stormed out of the hellhole without a backward glance.

Groo exited the caravan and they headed back to the others. When they reached the fire, Spike spoke briefly to Groo and walked back to the car, leaving the Pylean to set fire to the tents and the caravan before rejoining them.

Spike nodded his thanks to the Pylean for helping and without a word hustled everyone back into the car. He shook his head at the questioning glance Buffy directed at him. "I'll tell you later, luv."

"Okay," she whispered, sensing he was really upset. She slid over, wrapped her arm around his waist and ducked under his arm, resting her head on his black clad chest. "Come on, let's go home."

"Sounds good," Spike replied as he floored the accelerator.

* * * * *

"You have strong magics protecting your home." Groo nodded in approval.

Buffy cocked her head in surprise. "You can see them?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

Groo walked into the house, carrying a couple of boxes. On the drive from the campsite, Spike had been quiet. She hadn’t asked him what had happened in the caravan. Buffy knew that when he was ready, he would tell her.

They had decided to put Wes's stuff into the basement. It would be out of the way until they worked out who was sleeping where. In the back of her mind, Buffy was trying to figure out if adding onto the house would be the way to go. Maybe Xander could do an estimate for her. She had checked her bank balance while at Wes’s apartment and had nearly passed out.

She was rich.

Really rich!

Buffy had called Angel, trying to get him to take some of the money back. He had brushed aside her offer, saying that if she didn’t take it, he would go to Vegas and blow the lot. Angel had calmly stated he would always love her and that the money was a gift. She had burst into tears, which had lead to Spike grabbing the receiver and yelling at Angel. Spike had slammed down the phone and hugged her, whispering that she should calm down and let Angel do this for her.

If she wanted, they could move to a larger house, but Buffy didn’t want to leave the home her mom had made for them. Adding a new master bedroom and bathroom would be a good place for her and Spike to start fresh. Also, it would free up a room for Wesley.

She guessed that Groo would either stay on the sofa or rent something nearby. ‘Mental note: check whether he has any money.’ If not, maybe they could do something with the basement or she could give him some money to get started. For now, she wanted to check on Dawn and take her vamp to bed. House renovations and musical beds could wait until the morning.

Tara and Dawn were fast asleep in her mom's bedroom. For some reason, Anya was asleep on a fold out cot by the bed, her snores masking Buffy and Spike’s entry. They hadn't even woken up when Spike had gone to look for Dawn only to reappear in a panic when there was no sign of her bed having been slept in. His behaviour made Buffy wonder what the hell had happened in the caravan to spook the normally cool vampire. To calm the agitated vamp, she dragged him upstairs to check in each room.

Finding Dawn and Tara curled up asleep together calmed Spike. The look of relief on his face was palpable. Spike went over and ran one finger over her baby sister's cheek, nearly causing Buffy to cry at his tenderness. Buffy pulled him gently out of the room, kissing him on the nose. The only occupant of the room disturbed by them was Miss Kitty, who glared balefully at them when they came in. She was curled protectively around Anne and William in their box at the foot of the bed.

"We've stored everything in the basement," Wesley whispered as the two of them came downstairs, their fingers tightly entwined. "Where do you want us for the night?"

"Groo, can you manage on the sofa for now?" Buffy asked the stoic Pylean. He nodded and took the sheets and blankets from Spike. "The kitchen is through there. Help yourself. The bathroom is first door on the left as you come up the stairs."

Groo's face split into a massive smile. "Thank you my friends, you have made me most welcome. Spike, can we talk in the morning?"

Spike nodded.

"Wes, if you don't mind the lavender walls and sheets you can take the Nib's room," Spike offered.

"That’ll be fine." Wesley shouldered his overnight bag and followed Spike upstairs as Buffy moved to help Groo with his sheets. When they had finished, she patted him on the arm.

"Everyone’ll be up for school by about 7:30–ish, so I guess we'll see you in the a.m.!" Buffy smiled and headed tiredly up the stairs.

To Spike and her bed.

She tapped on Dawn's door. "Wes, you need anything?" The muttered negative satisfied her. "Night."

Buffy hesitated at her bedroom door. She could hear Spike moving around. Gently, she pushed the door open and watched her vampire pacing back and forth. Mr. Gordo was clenched in one hand and the other ran repeatedly through his already mussed hair. On his next pass by the door, he stopped and grabbed hold of her wrist, pulling her into his arms.

He buried his face into her neck and breathed in her sweet scent. A mixture of flowers and sweat from the fight. He inhaled deeply, obliterating the rank stench of Janice with his golden girl's purity. "You smell amazing, my dear heart."

Buffy pulled back slightly and stroked his face. “You okay?”

“No, but I will be.” He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “Come to bed, precious girl. I need you.”

Buffy nodded and pulled away, she slipped off her outer clothes and stood before him dressed in a black bra and thong. She reached over and slid his ever-present duster from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud. Spike watched her as she undressed him, his eyes only leaving her beautiful face when she pulled his shirt over his head. Once he was naked, Buffy pulled him to her bed. For a second he froze, feeling unclean. The images and smells from the dark caravan filled his mind.

He didn’t want to bring them to her bed.

“Spike, come on, honey.” She pushed his still form onto the soft sheets and then snuggled down next to her vampire. Spike slid her thong off, unclasped her bra and threw them both to the floor. Buffy pulled his face to her breasts and ran her fingers through his hair trying to soothe him. She felt his mouth move softly over her warm breast, searching for a rose tinted nipple. Once Spike’s mouth found what he was seeking, he latched on, suckling and nibbling gently.

Spike paused and glanced up, his fangs lengthening. Buffy nodded her agreement to his silent question. She moaned softly as one of Spike’s incisors pierced her nipple gently. Spike let her blood fill his mouth, savouring it. He was careful not to cut his tongue as he withdrew his fangs. 'She's just got rid of the git. No way I'm forcing anything on her...' As he swallowed, he could taste her love and concern for him. He licked the small wound shut, nuzzled his face between her breasts and sighed, content.

Then, it registered. Her scent had changed.

Over the years, the scent of her blood was something he had memorised. Everything about her was ingrained on his memory, even if he had never tasted it before, not until now.

The ritual had completely erased the familiar scent of his Grandsire’s mark on her blood.

He tightened his arms around her slim waist, humbled that she had offered herself so completely to him. Spike vowed that he would never let his golden girl down and would love her until he was dust.

“Spike, what happened in there?” Buffy’s soft voice cut across his thoughts. “You know you can tell me anything,” she coaxed.

“It was awful, love.” Spike raised his head and rested his chin in her cleavage. He eyed her mouth, considering its gentle curve. He slid slowly up her body and captured her lips with his. Kissing her hungrily, his tongue slid between her parted lips and tangled eagerly with hers. He held the kiss, lingering a moment before he pulled back. Rolling off her soft, welcoming curves, Spike stretched his tired body. “It was a knocking shop.”

Buffy rolled onto her side and frowned. “Like the one Riley went to?”

Spike reached over and cupped one of her breasts in his cool hand, testing its weight in his palm. “No, a vamp brothel. You know... a regular one. Well… not that regular. They were teens… all vamped and hired out to whoever and whatever rolled up with the readies.”

“Slimy demons, too?” Buffy pulled a grossed out face.

“Yeah, pet. Christ! They were only kids, Buffy!” His hand smoothed up her torso and cupped her chin. His cool thumb stroked her mouth gently. Spike memorised its delicate shape by touch.

“Love, I recognised one of them.” He took a breath. “It was Nib’s pal, Janice.” Spike watched her face carefully, ready to offer his love and support. She closed her eyes for a second.

“Was she a vamp?”

“They all were.”

“Oh.”

She reached over and pulled him to her, resting her face against his chest. Sobs shuddered through her and Spike could feel her warm tears dripping onto his cold skin.

“Shh, baby. I’m sorry. Don’t cry, sweet. I’ve got you,” Spike crooned as he rocked her gently.

“Oh God, I’m a bad person,” she cried.

“What? No! What are you talking about?” Spike held her tighter.

“When you told me, I was relieved. I was glad it wasn’t Dawn. Oh God! It could have been my baby sister!” Buffy sobbed.

“No, no… Shhh. The Nib’s safe and sound. All tucked up with Glinda.” Spike rubbed his hands over her shaking back.

“I know… but she is always hanging out with Janice. They could’ve both been taken.”

“She wasn’t, though, was she?”

Buffy hiccupped against his chest and rubbed her wet face in small circles. She looked up and grimaced. “I got you all snotty! Sorry.” She reached for the sheet and carefully wiped Spike’s chest dry. She hesitated. “Spike, is it bad that I am glad it was Janice and not Dawn?”

“No, it’s not. I was thinking the same thing. I’m also trying to work out how the hell to tell Dawn.”

Buffy kissed him. “We’ll tell her together. Sleep now and well deal in the a.m.”

Spike cradled his girl in his arms and rubbed his chin in her hair. “I think the Cheerleader’s ex is going to do alright. He’s a sound bloke.”

“Yeah, but he is huoooge! All muscles and teeth! He’ll be okay. I kinda feel bad for him though, she really didn’t treat him right.” Buffy yawned. “Okay, tired now.”

“Can’t wait to see what Anya has to say about him…” Spike trailed off when he realised that the Slayer was already snoring softly. “Love you.” He finally relaxed and dozed off, savouring the taste of her blood in his mouth.

She was now even more a part of him.

* * * * *

Dawn crept down the hall. She had slid out of bed quietly, not wanting to disturb Tara or Anya who were fast asleep. She needed a shower, clothes and food. Pushing her bedroom door open, Dawn trotted in.

“Morning, Dawn.”

“Gah!” Dawn jumped and spun around to face her bed. “Wesley?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you… Dawn, what are you doing?” Wesley watched the tall teen check her hair in the mirror.

“I’m looking for grey hairs! You scared the you-know-what outta me!” She grinned at the perplexed man in her bed. ‘Oh my God, there’s a really cute guy in my bed. Janice is so going to be jealous when I tell her in Home Room today! ...Well, if she shows. Hey, wait a minute! Since when did Wesley get sooo cute?’

“Right. Well, um...” Wesley was thrown. He had no idea how to handle the situation.

“Chill! It’s ok. I’m just grabbing my books and clothes. Then, I’m gone.” Dawn’s eyes widened when she spotted the scar on his throat. Before she realised what she was doing, her feet had carried her over to the bed. Dawn reached over and traced the fully healed scar with one finger. “I’m glad you’re alright.” She looked at him closely. “You are alright, aren’t you?” Dawn tucked her hands behind her back, embarrassed that she had gotten all touchy feely.

Wesley cleared his throat, overwhelmed that a girl he had, in reality, only moments ago met for the first time was concerned over his health. “I'm getting better, thanks to Buffy, Spike and your friend Tara’s ointment.” He smiled at the blushing girl. “Thank you for the card. It was very kind of you.”

Dawn blushed. “Oh, that’s okay.” She fiddled with her hair for a moment. “Hey, isn’t Tara a kick-ass Wiccan babe? I helped. She let me stir the herbs!”

“Then thank you again!” Wesley sat up and tried to push his hair into place. “I am sorry about stealing your bed, though.

“No, it’s fine, though I’m kinda wondering what you’re doing here.” Dawn grabbed her clothes and tossed them into the hall. She stuffed her books and homework into her backpack and dropped it next to her feet.

“Buffy and Spike asked me to come and help them here. Since I had nothing left in LA, I was glad of the offer.”

“Hey, it’s not just about needing your help. We’re friends and I’m happy you came back with them. Spike sooo needs a guy friend who gets all his weird British jokes!” Dawn leant over and gave him a hug then danced out of the room. “Just don’t read my diary! See yah later…”

Wesley shook his head at her antics and lay back down. ‘Coming back here may be the best thing I could have done…’ he thought as he dozed back off.

Dawn stuck her head around Buffy’s door.

“Eep!” she squeaked. “I’m blind!” She giggled. Buffy and Spike where wrapped around each other, gold limbs entwined with alabaster white. Spike was flat on his back with Buffy cradled against him. The sheet covered them both to the waist. Dawn slid quietly into the bed beside them, pulled up the sheet and poked her sister in the ribs.

Buffy groaned and snuggled closer to Spike.

“Buffy, wake up,” Dawn hissed.

“Nibblet, be a good girl and leave us be. We’ve had a rough few days.”

“But I’m awake.”

“Yeah, so am I but I’m one up on you!” Spike retorted.

“How?”

“I’m naked.”

Dawn shot out of the bed. “Gross!”

“Your big sis is starkers, too!”

“Double gross and ick! Spiiike! Bufffeeey!”

“Okay. Okay! I’m awake!” Buffy grumbled and sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. She reached over the bed, grabbed Spike’s t-shirt and pulled it on. She then tucked the sheet primly around her hips and checked that Spike had pulled on his jeans under the sheet.

“You both have serious bed head!” Dawn commented. She rolled her eyes as they both ran their fingers through their hair. “You guys are so vain!” She flopped down between them. “Why are you grumpy?”

They exchanged a look over Dawn’s head. Spike nodded to Buffy.

“What happened in LA? I noticed that we have a new housemate. He’s staying right?”

“Yeah, Watcherboy’s staying. So’s Groo.”

“Groo? What’s a Groo?” Dawn wondered out loud.

“Big bloke, Cheerleader’s ex,” Spike explained in his own inimitable way. “Bit formal but he seems like a good bloke.”

“So you went to LA, fixed Wes, then stole two of Angel’s crew and brought them home with you. Buffy, we’re gonna need a bigger house!”

Buffy grinned and slid down to hug her baby sister. Spike watched his girls, a faint smile on his face. His expressive blue eyes, however, were sad.

“Dawnie, we have to talk to you and it’s really important.” Buffy smoothed her hand over her sister’s sweet face. “Just remember we love you, okay?”

“What’s going on? It’s not Willow, is it?”

“No, Dawnie. It’s... It’s...” Buffy looked over at Spike. “I can’t tell her...”

“Nibblet, it’s about Janice. Oh pet, I’m sorry.” Spike grabbed hold of Dawn and held her close. Buffy sat up and wrapped her arms around both of them. The Slayer and the Vampire wrapped themselves around the Key, trying to protect her.

“What about Janice? Tell me!” Dawn whimpered. She knew it wasn’t good news. Janice had been skipping school for a few weeks and hadn’t returned any of her calls for the last week.

“Last night when we were coming back we came across Janice. She’d been vamped.” Spike had decided to leave out the rest. His Bit didn’t need to know anything else. “We… I had to dust her, I’m sorry.”

“Oh God, no…” Dawn started to cry, great wracking sobs that shook her body. Buffy and Spike held her tightly and tried to soothe her.

“I’m sorry… so sorry, baby,” Buffy whispered as she tried not to cry.

“What am I going to tell her mom?” Dawn whimpered.

“Nothing. You can’t tell her anything, Nibblet. She’d never understand,” Spike muttered. “Buffy and I will talk to her.”

“Maybe you could tell her that Janice ran away?” Dawn offered.

“No, luv, that won’t work. She’ll want know how we knew that. Then she’d call the cops and there would be questions. Just leave it to your sis and me.” Spike caught Buffy’s eyes and shook his head before she could say anything.

“Now, pet, go wash your face and I’ll get some grub going. You take your time and come down when you’re ready.”

“Okay. Buffy, will you keep me company?”

“Sure, honey.” Buffy stood and went in search of some sweats while Dawn stumbled off to the bathroom, trying not to cry.

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