When Spike awoke it was without the slayer beside him. Opening his eyes slowly he sniffed the air casually. It was a few hours past midday, put the sun wasn’t out. Rolling out of bed he peeked tentatively out the window shade, his suspicions confirmed. It was raining.

“Hey Spike!” She greeted happily.

“Hey love,” Spike replied, confused by her joyful mood. “Are you alright?”

“Of course. I’m a little antsy though- I think I’ll take a walk. I know we have a lot of business to take care of today, I’ll only be gone for a little while,” Buffy said, closing the dishwasher door and wiping her hands on a yellow dish towel. “That cool with you?”

“Of course. I’ll come with,” Spike suggested.

“Actually, I’d rather go alone, if that’s OK with you. I need time to work some stuff out,” Buffy responded with a tight smile.

“Are you sure?” Spike asked after a moments pause, eyeing the slayer with confusion. Just last night she had been the frail shell of a slayer, speechless and afraid. Now, she acted as if nothing was wrong. As if her mother’s death was something she would deal with by going on a quick jog.

“I’m sure,” Buffy answered with exasperation. She walked to the front door, Spike on her heels and grabbed a leather sweater from the coat rack. “If It starts to rain hard I’ll come back,” Buffy assured Spike, noting his confused expression.

“Alright love. Have fun,” Spike replied, completely intending to follow the slayer. Buffy gave Spike a quick hug before leaving.

It was five minutes later when Spike left the house. He had thrown on a t-shirt and boots, as well as his duster, and was concentrating hard on catching a whiff of the slayer’s sent so that he could follow her. That’s why he wasn’t aware of the hand that flew at him, pushing him against the wall. Spike immediately on the defensive, struggling against the tight grip the person held him against the door of the slayer’s house with. However, when he looked down to see whom his captor was he was met with the slayer’s arched eyebrow.

“I thought I told you not to come with me,” Buffy said, a trace of amusement evident in her voice, as well as a bit of anger.

“I’m worried about you slayer,” Spike explained after Buffy had released him. “You’re in total denial mode. You do remember what happened last night, right?” The vampire asked. He had tried to avoid bringing up Joyce’s death, but now Buffy was acting too strangely. She was acting…well….perfectly normal. And it was only a matter of time before she broke down.

“Of course I remember Spike,” The slayer said, a hint of sadness in her voice. But I need to work this out on my own. So you stay home, I have ID in my pocket as well as my phone number so if anything happens to me someone will find me and call home. Now stop worrying big brother.”

Spike rolled his eyes at Buffy’s last comment. Part of him pleased, another part crushed. But now wasn’t the time to ponder his unreturned romantic feelings for the slayer. Now was the time to go inside and wait nervously by the phone, praying it didn’t ring.

“Just come back if it starts to rain any harder than this,” Spike commanded, his voice gentle, yet still letting the slayer know that this command didn’t leave any room for disobedience. Buffy rolled her eyes once more before heading off at a leisurely pace. Only turning once to make sure that Spike went inside. He did, and spent the afternoon thinking and pacing nervously in front of the phone. It was two hours three minutes later when the phone rang…

Spike walked purposefully through the doors of the LA police station. Ignoring the shouting of the officers at the desk he walked with long hurried strides through another set of double doors and into the office of Officer Robert Captoff. Spike spotted Buffy curled up in the corner of Officer Captoff’s office immediately. Her hair, soaked by the rain, stuck to her face, and she was huddled under a purple blanket that Spike assumed had been supplied by the police station. As soon as she heard Spike come through the door she looked up, meeting his piercing blue eyes with her hazel ones.

“Get up. Now,” Spike said coldly. Buffy whimpered and began muttering under her breath. Spike stepped toward her. However, he was intercepted by Officer Captoff placing an arm on his shoulder, and gently guiding him to the other side of the office, away from the whimpering slayer.

“One of our patrol cars picked her up. She was walking in the rain with what the officer reported as a catatonic stare. She didn’t respond when he called out to her, and when brought in, all she would say was mutter something about needing her mother and needing Spike. Do you have any idea what happened?”

“Yeah,” Spike said, his voice taking on a softer tone, nothing like the one he had used just moments before when speaking to Buffy. “Yesterday her mother was found dead…murdered by a gang. Today she woke up and acted like everything was alright. I knew that sooner or later she’d break down…it’s just…and then she promised she’d come back inside if it began to rain harder and…” Spike trailed off, staring at the shell of the slayer that sat in the corner.

“I understand,” Officer Captoff said, gathering from Spike’s story what had happened. “If Miss Summers can just attest to the fact that she recognizes you, and you show us some ID then you can go home. Take good care of her.” Spike nodded his understanding and walked over to the Slayer, kneeling beside her.

“Hey love,” He whispered softly, “sorry ‘bout the tone of voice I used earlier. We can talk about what you did after we get you cleaned up.” Buffy stood, the purple blanket falling from her shoulders, and with only a nod thanks directed at the officer from Spike, the pair exited the building. No one asked for ID. Spike didn’t even notice.

“Can you tell me what happened today?” Spike asked once Buffy was at home, dried off and sitting on the couch nursing a cup of hot chocolate. Buffy nodded, resting her head on Spike’s shoulder and placing the cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table in the living room before she spoke.

“Today I knew what had happened. I knew my mother had diedand had accepted it. I understood it. That’s why I broke down, I think.”

“I don’t understand. If you understood what had happened, why did you act so aloof?” Spike asked, rubbing her hand absent-mindedly along Buffy’s arm, as if transferring his strength to her.

“I guess I just…it was like I didn’t miss her. Like I knew my mother was gone, and I didn’t even care,” Tears feel silently from the slayer’s cheek and she wiped them away hastily. “And I just felt so…”

“Angry,” Spike supplied.

“Guilty,” Buffy clarified, “I felt guilty.”

The weeks that followed Joyce’s death were the weeks that changed everything. Before Joyce’s death Spike and Buffy had developed a routine; an easy companionship that allowed them to be friends as well as vampire, or watcher, as Buffy sometimes called Spike as a joke, and slayer. However, in one second all that changed. For the entire week after Joyce’s death Buffy refused to let Spike leave her sight for more than a second. At night he crawled into bed beside her, holding her tightly as she shuddered from nightmares that left her bathed in sweat and unable to fall back asleep.

During the day Spike would go through all of Joyce’s things with the slayer. Sometimes it would be paperwork, which Spike would help Buffy with by explaining what the paper meant as well as all the choices she had regarding it. As much as she whined and complained, asking him to just choose for her, Spike knew the slayer liked the fact that he gave her options. That instead of simply telling her what to do, he was allowing her to honor her mother’s memory by deciding for herself how she would live her life.

On other days Spike would watch as Buffy collected her mother’s things. The slayer would carefully fold Joyce’s clothes before placing them into one of two boxes. The “give away” box, which would be placed on the front lawn the next time Purple Heart came through the neighborhood to collect clothes, or the “keep” box, of things that would either be put up in the attic or put in the slayer’s room. Things like jewelry, silk scarves, or just simple sweaters that held some significance to the slayer.

Through the drawn out process Spike merely sat on Joyce’s bed, watching the slayer sift through her mother’s things, only speaking when an answer was required. He would allow the slayer to speak, to tell him stories about her mother, or just about her plans for the future. He knew she was only using him for a sounding board. But he was happy to oblige. After all, it wasn’t everyday you lose a mother….

London, 1880

“So, let’s have a quick recap,” Angelus suggested, his voice echoing throughout the nearly empty cave that he and William had ducked into to avoid the deadly rays of the sun. William lowered his eyes to the ground in a desperate attempt not to meet those of the master vampire who was pacing in front of him, speaking in a deceptively calm voice. “You have been a vampire for exactly two weeks. One and a half weeks ago you were given the instructions to hunt and kill your mother. She was to be your first meal. Correct?” Angelus asked, pausing his pacing to stare at William, who had lifted his eyes up to meet his Sire’s in a submissive stare. There was a moment of silence, broken by the sound of Angelus’ hand hitting William’s cheek. “I asked you a question Childe!”

“Yes, Sire,” William answered meekly. It would be ten more years until the vampire gained enough skill and courage to talk back to his sire.

“And would you mind repeating one more time, strictly for the record, why you have not killed your mother?”

“I have not seen her, Sire,” William answered respectfully.

“Ahh, yes. Now I remember.” Angelus said, cracking his knuckles one by one. “I’m just wondering if there’s anything you can do to try harder. What do you think?”

“I don’t think there is, Sire. I am trying as hard as I can.”

“Well then, I shall lend my services and we’ll just have to find your mother together. How does that sound?” Angelus asked mockingly. The master vampire’s voice was quickly losing his calm tone, and the anger that William knew he felt was coming through.

“I am sure I’ll find my mother with you helping, Sire,” William whispered after only a moment’s pause.

“You better pray we do boy,” Angelus ground out, his voice losing all semblance of calm, “because until we do you will not drink a drop of blood. If it takes a week for you to find your mother, you will starve for a week. If it takes a month you will starve for a month. And if it takes longer…” Angelus trailed off.

“What will happen, Sire?” William asked.

“You’ll wish you’d met the slayer before you met me,” Angelus replied. William nodded and then waited until Angelus had walked deeper into the recesses of the cave before he allowed his stance to relax. Lying down on the cold floor of the cave the vampire fell asleep. Dreaming for the first time of his mother rather than the beautiful and mysterious Drusilla, the conniving Darla, or the cruel Angelus.

The next night-London, 1880

“Now William. We are at your mother’s house, correct?” Angelus asked in a patronizingly slow voice.

“Yes, Sire.”

“And what does your mother do every night at seven o’clock?” Angelus asked in the same voice.

“She goes to visit the neighbor, Mrs. Berkely.”

“And tonight…”

“I’ll stop her before she gets there and kill her,” William replied obediently.

“And then….”

“I’ll meet you, Darla and Drusilla back at the cave we stayed at today. And we’ll celebrate my first kill,” William said. Angelus nodded his head in agreement before turning swiftly on his heel and walking away from William, leaving the fledgling vampire alone in the alley. “Oh, and William,”

“Yes, Sire?”

“Don’t even think of tricking me, I’ll know if you’ve made the kill or not.” William nodded in response to his Sire’s word, knowing the truth they held. What he didn’t know was that killing his mother would change everything; because if he had he might not have killed her.

There’s a special bond between a mother and her child, the kind that suffering only strengthens. So, when one becomes a vampire the person who makes them, or trains them is to call them childe, and have the vampire call them sire. This is an attempt to undermine the relationship of mother and child. Then, after a while the fledgling must kill their mother. When they leave the dead body of their mother slumped on the ground they’re freed. They are more than a vampire, they are a creature of the night.

The hardest thing William ever had to do was sink his fangs into his mother’s neck. For the past week he had been living off blood bags as Angelus refused to allow him to kill anyone besides his mother. When William tasted the buttery blood that poured into his mouth from the vein on his mother’s neck he knew his days of drinking from blood bags were over, and it sickened him to no end that the desire for his mother’s blood was so strong. But the blood was too good, powerful….fearful….filled with love, desire, hope, anger, truth, justice, despair….it was truly life. So he left the body of his mother in front of her house and walked toward the cave where the others would be waiting. And though it wasn’t as though he had a soul before, because that was lost when he became a vampire, he had changed. He no longer had the fears that mortals did. And for once in his life he was above every creature whose heart beat. And it didn’t matter to him that his mother was dead…he was just like Angelus and Drusilla and Darla…they wouldn’t have cried remembering the way they murdered the woman who had done everything for them…and he wasn’t crying either…the tear dripping down his cheek, it wasn’t a tear of pain. Because he didn’t care that he killed his mother…….not one bit…

Back to 1996

“Spike…..Spike….Are you okay?” Spike was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of Buffy’s concerned voice. He opened his eyes and was met with the sight of a very worried slayer looking at him.

“I’m fine love. Why, is something wrong?” Spike asked, not noticing the tears that stained his cheeks and were still falling until the slayer gently brushed them away with her knuckles.

“I’m okay. But you were crying. Are you sure there’s nothing you want to discuss?” Buffy asked, one of her hands playing with a lock of Spike’s hair absent mindedly.

“I’m fine. I best be going to the butcher’s to stock up on some blood. I just remembered that I don’t have very much here.” Spike said. Buffy didn’t comment. Since her mother’s death she knew that Spike had started drinking from the bag. She didn’t say anything about it. She understood why. It wasn’t everyday that you lose a mother…

Kick, block, punch….kick, block, punch…kick, block, punch…Buffy continued the steady rhythm that she had been training with for over an hour. She would aim a high kick at the bag, would block the bag as it swung towards her, and then she would aim a punch at the bag. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy training, it wasn’t like it was boring. It was just so….boring. Sparring with Spike, on the other hand. Now that was fun. He matched her in every way. No matter what kind of punch or kick she aimed at him he could block her, and no matter what verbal lashing she gave out he always seemed to have a comeback. That’s the main thing she’d been day dreaming about while training. It seemed no matter what she said he had a counter for it, so she couldn’t help but wonder what would get him to close that annoying mouth of his. Kissing him topped her list. And that was unfortunate because dreaming of kissing her stand-in watcher and best friend only built up frustration. UST her popular friends, if they were still hanging out with her, would have called it. It was strange, she barely thought about the people that only a year ago she pledged to be friends with forever. Now, all her thoughts were of her mother, ambush tactics, or how delicious Spike’s lips would taste. Usually when the attacks of spike thinkage, as she liked to call them, would hit she would train. However, she’d been going at it for an hour with no relief in site. Therefore, the slayer would normally revert to her back up plan of sparring with Spike. Today, however, Spike had entered the training room and immediately went over to the corner to sit and brood, and no matter what cruel jibes she made at him, she couldn’t convince him to spar with her. She’d tried everything from calling him William the Broody to teasing him with a bag of blood that she had brought for him. And her response…nothing. The master of brood himself refused to spar with her.

“Spike, get over it,” Buffy said. Spike looked at the slayer, startled. He had gotten used to the steady rhythm of her training and had no idea how she went form kick, block, punch to standing there, hands on her hips, hair coming out of the sloppy ponytail she had put it in. She looked gorgeous.

“Get over what?” Spike asked, the slayer’s impatient cough startling him out of his thoughts.

“Whatever’s making you act like this. I mean, usually you love sparring with me and today…” Buffy trailed off, noticing the truly evil smirk that was beginning to work it’s way across Spike’s lips.

“Maybe,” Spike said, rising to his feet and lunging at the slayer so quickly she didn’t have time to react and instead feel to the ground, Spike on top of her. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

Buffy returned Spike’s smirk with one of her own. However, before as Spike was opening his mouth for what Buffy assumed was some trivial banter she placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down for a kiss. It was just like she’d always imagined it. Spike’s surprise only lasting a few seconds before his hands found their way to her waist. His tongue teasing his lips as the kiss grows more intense. It was like a scene from a movie. One where you know the character’s dreaming and is going to wake up any minute. But she wasn’t dreaming. This was real. This was…

Buffy awoke with a start. The beige sheets that she had been covered with fell around her waste and she patted the bed blindly, searching for Spike. It was only after a few moments of fruitless searching that she opened her eyes. Then she remembered, Spike had gone home that morning. It had been a month since her mother had died and Spike had insisted that the Slayer’s life return to normal. She had agreed, reluctantly. Still, Buffy had stayed strong, waiting until Spike had packed up the few things he had brought over to the slayer’s house and left to break down and cry. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t see him every again. Every day they would be getting together to train. But no matter how many times he said nothing would change she knew it would. She would no longer wake up with him beside her, he wouldn’t be there to comfort her when she was sad. He was leaving her alone, claiming she needed a home that was just hers. Didn’t he realize what she had realized so long ago…it wasn’t home without him.

“Bloody hell slayer you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Spike, stop laughing at me and listen for a second,” Buffy commanded. However, the vampire’s deep chuckles continued. “Spike!” Buffy chastised.

“Sorry,” Spike cleared his throat, “please continue slayer.”

“I’m done. That’s all. I asked a simple question, in response to something that was you’re idea, might I add,” Buffy said, her lower lips jutting out in an adorable pout. The one that she knew Spike thought was irresistible.

“Vixen,” Spike muttered under his breath, allowing a pout of his own to surface on his face as he ran his hands through his bleached hair absent mindedly.

“Please Spike,” Buffy whispered, her eyes staring strait into his, a slightly lost look in them. “I have no idea what kind of apartment I can afford, or what kind I want. And it would mean a lot to me if you would come.”

“You know I’d do anything for you slayer, but house shopping? I mean, you should see the place I live. I don’t really have impeccable taste.” Spike said.

“Hmmm,” Buffy said, her eyes narrowing in thought.

“What?” Spike asked suspiciously.

“That is a good point. Why don’t I know where you live. I mean, you’ve been to my house tons of time, but I’ve known you for at least four months and still haven’t seen your house.”

“You wouldn’t like it love. I have one worn in chair, a telly and a cot to sleep on,” Spike said.

“Well, if your ‘telly’ has cable I think I could be quite happy at your house,” Buffy responded with a smirk.

“Maybe I’ll let you see it before you go back to school. But, for now, I think we should concentrate on your apartment search,” Spike said.

“So you’re going with me?” Buffy asked, a smile beginning to form on her lips. Spike sighed.

“Yes I’m going with you. But next time I-“ Spike was cut off as a very excited Buffy flung herself into Spike’s arms babbling about how much fun it was going to be.

“No,” Buffy responded simply to Spike’s question.

“What do you mean no?” Spike asked incredulously, “The apartment was perfect. It had a nice view, a large kitchen, two bedrooms and a den. It was nice.”

“Exactly,” Buffy said.

“Huh?” Spike asked.

“I don’t need to waste money on a gorgeous apartment with a large kitchen. I can’t cook. I suck at cooking. Over the past weeks since you’ve moved out I’ve eaten more cheese omelets than anyone else on this earth. And half of the cheese omelets got stuck to the bottom of the pan. So, I really don’t need a large kitchen,” Buffy said, justifying her decision.

“I guess you’re right slayer,” Spike grumbled, ignoring the cat that ate the canary grin that spread across the slayer’s face at that admission, “Besides, we have two more apartments to look at and they sound nice.”

“Where to, fearless leader?” Buffy asked as she and Spike got into his black Desoto and fastened their seatbelts. Spike pulled a balled up newspaper clipping out of his pocket and studied it for a minute before reading of the address to the slayer.

“Chestnut Hill Apartments on Mermaid Lane. Apartment 2B.”

“Cool.”

“You can’t be serious slayer,” Spike said, his voice an urgent whisper as they spoke in the den of the apartment they were looking at, the landlady in the room next door.

“It’s wonderful Spike. It’s near where we train, it has a view, a den, two bedrooms, a large kitchen-“

“The last apartment we visited you said you didn’t want a large kitchen,” Spike reminded the slayer in an exasperate tone.

“Well I changed my mind,” Buffy stated matter-of-factly.

“Women,” Spike grumbled good naturedly. He ran a hand through his hair before meeting Buffy’s hazel eyes. “You really like it?”

“A lot,” Buffy responded honestly. Spike sighed and Buffy bit back the urge to ask him why he breathed when he didn’t need to, knowing his response would probably have to do with blond slayer’s that drive him insane.

“Fine. I’ll co-sign for the apartment with you.”

“Thank you Spike,” Buffy said, a wide smile breaking out across her face.

“But if you expect me to come over every night and cook dinner for you like I did when I was living with you then you’ve got another thing coming because-“ Spike’s rant was cut off by Buffy’s amused stare. “What?”

“Just wondering what time you’ll be over to help me move my things into my new apartment,” Buffy said.

“Eight sound good?” Spike asked with a defeated groan.

“Perfection,” Buffy giggled, taking Spike’s hand and leading him into the room where the landlady was waiting.

The landlady had given them no trouble. The apartment had been abandoned for several months, probably due to the mysterious disappearance of many residents of LA, and the price wasn’t too bad. Buffy would need to get an after school job, but Spike had assured her he would chip in, calling it penance for the way he’d gotten the money he was going to give her. She would have money left over to decorate, buy food, pay for the cable, electricity and water bills and save up for college.

Selling her mother’s house had been harder, not because no one wanted it. On the contrary the first day she had up a for sale sign she had gotten incredible offers for the place. What was hard was leaving behind the memories and knowing that he new apartment would have no memories of her mother in it. She wouldn’t have images of her mother unpacking boxes, tucking her in at night. The kitchen wouldn’t smell like cookies and cocoa. But that was kind of a relief too, because for the first time in four weeks she was out of her mother’s shadow. She had a home.

“God this is good. How do you do this?” Buffy asked. The slayer was sitting in front of Spike in the den of her newly furnished apartment with Spike, eating the dinner he had prepared. She didn’t remember the exact name of the dish. It was something in Italian. All the slayer knew was that what she was eating was the best ravioli in the entire world.

“I’ve been around for over a century love. You tend to pick things up. Besides, Angelus’ penalty when he didn’t like the food was a lot more severe than your whining.”

“Angelus?” Buffy asked, confusion evident in her voice. “You’ve never talked about him before.”

“Not much to tell,” Spike replied.

“There must be some story that you have. Come on, I tell you everything. I don’t know anything about your life.”

“He was my sire…my Yoda,” Spike began, “For seventy five years we traveled through Europe together. He trained me, taught me to be a vampire. I cared for him like a son would care for his father. I made sure he got the best kills, I made sure we stayed in only the finest accommodations. I did everything for him,” Spike said. Buffy smiled at Spike, leaning back and resting her had on his lap as he continued to talk, stroking his fingers through her blond hair in a soothing gesture.

“I was the last childe that Angelus sired. It was strange for a master vampire to only sire two childer. Darla had sired Angelus, and once she did he became the leader, and he sired Drusillia, then me. It took ten years before Drusillia accepted me as a vampire and as her mate. But after she did we were inseparable. That is until…”Spike trailed off.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I just-“ Buffy began. However, she was cut off when Spike continued talking.

“I had been with Drusillia and Angelus had been with Darla for about seventy years by then. Darla and I had gone out hunting that night, and Angelus and Drusillia had stayed in, knowing we would bring kills for them. I went back first, as Darla wanted to track a man home. That’s when I found out why Angelus and Drusillia wanted to stay home.” Spike paused and took a deep breath. “They were fucking. I found them in bed together, going at it like rabbits. It was like they didn’t already have mates. Like they didn’t love us. I cared about Drusillia so much, and I cared about Angelus too. That’s when I knew that I was different than they were. Darla didn’t care that Angelus had cheated on her. She, Angelus and Drusillia went off together after that. I told them I didn’t want anything to do with any of them. Drusillia told me she was sorry, begged me to take her back. I wouldn’t. If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s cheating. If you love someone you stay with them. And if you stop loving someone, you tell them, out of respect for their memory and the love you shared. Drusillia and I were together for almost seventy years. And when it was over I realized something.”

What?” Buffy asked.

“She never loved me,” Spike replied, his voice soft, “I spent seventy years with her, believing that she loved me. I wasted so long.”

“It’s not your fault. There’s no way you could have known,” Buffy whispered comfortingly. Sitting up the slayer turned so that she was still facing Spike and stroked his cheek lightly. “Besides, you’ll be alive for eternity. Plenty of time to find your one true love,” Buffy said, smiling sadly. Spike nodded dumbly at her comment, finding it hard to concentrate as he was too entranced by her eyes which were staring at him, looking strait through him. Without a word Spike closed his eyes lightly and bent down, capturing his lips with hers.

Buffy knew immediately that it wasn’t a dream. If Spike’s dream lips had been perfection than this was….well, there wasn’t a word for it. His lips were softly caressing hers in a motion that spent shivers up her spine. It was a few moments before Spike broke the kiss, staring at the petite slayer with wonder. Her eyes opened only when he spoke her name.

“Buffy,” Spike whispered tenderly brushing an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

“Spike,” Buffy whispered in response.

“I should go. It’s getting late, and we’ll be getting together to train tomorrow. I want you to be well rested,” Spike said. Buffy nodded dumbly. “I’m sorry,” Spike whispered after a moment. Closing her eyes as if it would block the pain that she felt as Spike stood and exited the apartment, locking the door behind him with the spare key the slayer had given him.

Outside the slayer’s apartment Spike slumped against the door with a dejected sigh. “Stupid,” He muttered allowed, “She’s the slayer and you’re her friend, and you have to go screw everything up by kissing her. You’ve got to get over it. She’s the slayer, you’re a vampire, and you don’t have a chance with her. You’re evil. You kill and maim and have a gay old time of it.” Spike pushed off the door with a sigh and began the long walk home. “Yeah mate, get over it.”

“Hey Spike,” Buffy said cheerfully as she entered the training room where Spike was. As usual, he had beaten her to the workout, if the lack of shirt and the sheen of sweat covering his body were any indication. “Mornin’ love. Up for a bit of sparring?” Spike asked, cracking his neck as Buffy flung her jacked into the far corner of the training room, revealing a tight black tank top and yoga pants.

“Always,” she responded before quickly dropping into fighting stance.

The pair circled each other, neither making a move. However, when it became clear that Buffy wasn’t going to strike first Spike gave into his impatient nature and broke the deadlock with a punch aimed at Buffy’s nose. The slayer deflected it and sent Spike flying backwards with a snap kick to his midsection. The fight went on for a bit. It wasn’t particularly tiring, nor was it viscous. It was simply Spike gauging how much work the Slayer would need to fight whatever new evil was certain to arise, and Buffy enjoying a workout. As an unspoken agreement neither mentioned the kiss, both concentrated on the fight. It ended with Spike straddling a pouting slayer. He had to admit that she made quite the picture. Face flushed, tank top riding up and exposing a tanned stomach, lower lip jutting out in an adorable pout. She was a vision, no doubt about that. But if he didn’t train her he would never again be able to look upon her. But, damn it was hard to concentrate with her lying beneath him!

“Spike….Spike you in there?” Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow at the vampire in concern.

“What?” Spike asked.

“You okay?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Spike replied.

“So you’re still lying on me because….” Buffy trailed off and when Spike registered her words he quickly rolled off the slayer and stumbled to his feet. Buffy shook her head, thoroughly confused at what had Spike so jittery, before standing up.

“So watcher man, what’s on the training schedule for today?”

“Well, the sparring was good love but…well, it’s just that….” Spike trailed off.

“What?” Buffy asked.

“I know I’ve probably said this before love, but fighting’s like a dance. Every punch and block, every kick, roll and spin has a rhythm to it. That’s easy enough. But the hard part of this dance; the part that makes it more than just counting. It’s the beauty of it. You think on your feet and that’s wonderful. But sometimes, right before you make your move you stop. The music stops flowing,” Spike explained. Buffy looked at the vampire in confusion, “You understand love?”

“Not at all,” The slayer replied honestly. Spike ran a hand through his hair, and bit his bottom lip in concentration. “You know the mailbox on the corner of Bergan and Paper Mill?” Spike asked. Buffy nodded. “Meet me there tonight at eight o’clock, and I’ll show you what I mean.”

“You’re late love,” Spike said without opening his eyes. He was leaning against the mailbox that he had agreed to meet the slayer at, casually smoking a cigarette, eyes closed. Buffy rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“I met three vamps on the way here,” She explained.

“If you’d been running on time you still wouldn’t gotten here sooner,” Spike said.

“Bite me,” Buffy murmured. However, she was unable to contain a small smile from forming on her lips. He knew her so well.

“I was telling you today about fighting being like a dance. But you still don’t get it. You have this amazing style, and you think on your feet. But you’re not dancing,” Spike explained.

“And this scenic tour of LA will help how?” Buffy asked sarcastically, earning a glare from Spike. However, the vampire didn’t dignify her remark with anything more than that, and instead kept speaking.

“A friend of mine, a demon friend, owns a dance studio.”

“You’re taking me to your demon friend’s dance studio?” Buffy asked.

“She’s not evil, if that’s what you’re thinking, and she’s one hell of a dancer. I just think that there’s something there that you should see. Don’t worry love, it’s not more than a few blocks from here.”

“William!” A plump, middle-aged woman exclaimed happily as she came running towards Spike and embraced him tightly. Spike looked mildly embarrassed and tried to gently disengage himself from the woman’s arms. However, she’d have none of it and only held him tighter. The woman released Spike only when she spotted the slayer standing awkwardly beside the vampire. Kissing Spike on the cheek the woman took Buffy into her arms, babbling something to the extent of “any friend of William’s is a friend of mine.”

“Lola, if you’re done embarrassing me then I guess it’s time for introductions,” Spike said.

“Oh, of course darling,” Lola gushed, standing in front of Spike and Buffy, smiling widely.

“Lola, this is Buffy Summer’s. Buffy, this is Lola. I met her around 1950. I had just broken up with Dru and I was a mess. Lola took me in off the street and helped me get back on my feet. She helped me get a new look for a new me. I became more independent,” Spike explained, smiling with the memories of his year spent with Lola. She had been a second mother to him. A demon, but unlike any he’d ever met before. She was a Trukaht demon, a rare breed of refined demons. They fed from the roots of Oak Trees and were skilled in areas such as the arts. Throughout time they had been composers, dancers and artists. Martha Graham, Tchaikovsky, even Martha Stewart, though Spike had always guessed that she was more of an embarrassment to their race than anything to be proud of. And then there was Lola. A sweet grandmother type who had saved Spike, and now ran a dance studio that trained LA’s finest. She was quite a woman. And not just for her talents in the arts. She was perceptive, even more than Spike, who prided himself in sensing other’s feelings. When he had moped about Drusilla, Lola had sympathized with him for only so long before announcing that when he met the true love of his life he would be thankful that he had no attachments. Spike believed that he had met the love of his life….he was happy Drusilla wasn’t around to bother him…Lola had been right. Now Spike could only hope that Lola had nice things to say about Buffy, and that Buffy liked Lola. However, by the look of things the slayer was quite fond of the demon, as the two of them had left Spike standing alone and retreating to a corner of Lola’s dance studio where they were chatting and laughing. Spike wished, not for the first time in his un life, that his vampire hearing was better, as he’d love to know what Lola said to get Buffy to blush that delightful color pink.

“So, are you and William dating,” Lola asked Buffy in a whisper. The slayer blushed and shook her head no with a quiet laugh.

“Of course not. We’re just friends. Spike has been training me-“ Buffy began. However, Lola cut her off.

“Spike! Don’t tell me William has been going around all these years being called Spike.”

“He has. Why do you mind?” Buffy asked Lola.

“Well, when William came to me I demanded that he stop being called that silly nickname Spike. And he listened. For the entire year he was at my house he insisted that he be called William, not only by myself, but by the other demons that visited him, and that he went out hunting with. I told him when he left that he was to give up his silly nickname. Alas, it appears that he has reverted back to being called Spike. I’ll have to scold him for that. It isn’t proper that a master vampire be running around calling himself Spike,” Lola muttered.

“I think it’s cute,” Buffy said, glancing over at Spike who stood on the opposite side of the room from them, straining to hear what was being said.

“I bet you do darling,” Lola said, watching Buffy’s face brighten when she looked at Spike. “So, why aren’t the two of you dating. I think a girl like you is just what William needs.”
”I don’t think it would work out too well. I don’t know if Spike told you, but I’m the vampire slayer. Vampire and vampire slayer doesn’t make for the best relationship,” Buffy said.

“Nonsense,” Lola insisted, “I can see it in your eyes. You don’t believe a word of that. A vampire and a slayer relationship sounds perfect. And it seems that William has taken a fancy to you.”

“You think so?” Buffy asked, sounding more eager than she meant to.

“I know so. You should see the way he looks at you when you turn away. It seems that William’s smitten. He just needs a push in the right direction. As do you. Who’s to say that the girl can’t make the first move?” Lola asked. Buffy smiled and blushed once more, overjoyed by Lola’s reassurances of Spike’s affection for her.

“We have kissed once, yesterday. But Spike and I haven’t talked about it since. I just assumed. I mean…sometimes I think he likes me. The way he acts around me. He knows me so well. But other times, I think he looks at me like more of a sister than a lover,” Buffy said.

“Than we’ll just have to get his eyes checked,” Lola whispered to the slayer, causing them both to giggle.

“Lola said that we could sit over here and watch her dance class. That way we can still talk softly,” Spike said, leading Buffy over to a spot by the door where the pair then took seats on the floor and watched as the dancers stretched and warmed up.

“I still don’t understand exactly what you’re showing me,” Buffy said.

“You’ll see love, for now just watch. Lola’s an amazing teacher, and a smart woman,” Spike told the slayer.

“I know,” Buffy replied mysteriously. Spike looked at her, forehead scrunched in an unasked question. However, her attention remained on the dancers, leaving Spike to watch her in amazement.

“They are,” Spike replied. “Look at the way they move, graceful. You move that way too. But watch. In a second Lola will call a different combination and they’ll change the steps. No pause, no break in rhythm. The new combination will become part of them as quickly as the first. They won’t just dance it, they’ll feel it,” Spike explained. Sure enough Lola called out a new combination for the dancers to do across the floor.

Lola called out a new combination and Buffy watched entranced as the dancers seamlessly changed the combination they were doing across the floor.

“When you fight, it should be like a dance. Every punch, every kick, every block becomes part of your heart, part of your soul. No matter what gets thrown at you, take it with grace and style. Think on your feet, and engrave the steps in your heart. Slaying isn’t just what you do, it’s who you are,” Spike said, the words rolling off his tongue more naturally than any Buffy had heard him speak. “Get it?” Spike asked after a pause.

“I always knew,” Buffy replied. But she wasn’t watching the dancers; she was staring straight into Spike’s eyes.

“It was okay I guess. I mean I still can’t believe we got homework. It’s the first day of school for goodness sake!” Buffy said.

“Well, you’re a sophomore now, things are bound to be more difficult,” Spike said.

“I’m a junior now,” Buffy corrected.

“But you’re only sixteen, and last year you were a freshmen. You told me last year you were graduating in 1999,” Spike insisted.

“Calm down, calm down,” Buffy said with an eye roll and a shake of her head. “Last year was ’96, I was fifteen. This year’s 1997, I’m sixteen. So, yes, technically I should be a sophomore. But the school was impressed with how well I did last year in my exams so they told me I could skip a grade; Especially with everything that happened with mom over the summer. The principal knows that I need to finish up school and get into college and eventually find a job. It’s really pretty cool of them to let me skip a grade,” Buffy explained.

“Well, technically I was right. You should be a sophomore,” Spike said.

Buffy rolled her eyes once more, “Can’t you just admit that occasionally you’re wrong?”

“Well, the school work on the first day thing is something I’m not loving. But besides that I was just kind of lonely. I mean, I don’t really have any friends anymore. Once I started slaying I didn’t really have time for my popular friends so they all kind of decided I was a freak. I get lonely a lot. But it’s cool, I have you,” Buffy said.

“You always have me love. But I’m over one hundred years old. It might be nice for you to have some friends your own age,” Spike said.

“I know. Maybe someday I’ll meet some freaks like me. But, until that happens I’ll deal. Besides, I’m always busy with slaying and training. And being a junior means that the college issue becomes slightly more pressing,” Buffy said.

“What issue. I’ll help you study, you’ll get in somewhere wonderful, and we’ll move there and fight nasties.”

“Well, money is kind of an issue, not too much, since mom did do a pretty good job taking care of finances. But still, it’s a little bit of a-“ Buffy was cut off by Spike.

“Non-issue,” The vampire supplied. “I have tons of money. Way more than I could ever hope to use, and ways of making it multiply. Legal ways, mind you,” Spike stressed at Buffy’s disapproving look. Buffy knew that Spike was lying, about the legal part anyway. But, she wouldn’t fight him on it. She was too thankful for his support and friendship.

“Eventually,” The slayer answered equally as casually. A few more minutes passed and Spike grew impatient.

“Love, just stake the poor thing,” He insisted.

“Fine,” Buffy huffed, sticking a wooden stake into the heart of the fledgling. It got a surprised look in its eyes and dissolved into dust. The pair walked in silence for a few minutes before Spike spoke.

“What was that all about?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” Buffy questioned.

“I mean, you were totally beating on that vampire. Usually you give them a fairly quick death.”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little bit bored. I mean, we haven’t had any Big Bads for a while,” Buffy said. At Spike’s wounded look she quickly amended the statement. “Besides you of course.”

“Ta love. Thanks, but you’re right,” Spike said.

“Still, I kind of feel like something should be coming. I mean, I know I’ll regret yearning for a disaster as soon as it strikes, but it would be kind of nice to get to fight an apocalypse or demon or something,” Buffy said. Spike chuckled. “Kind of funny that you’re hoping for an apocalypse. Not sure how slayer-like that is.”

“Well, life’s funny like that.”

“Yeah…it really is,” The vampire agreed.

"One two three, one two three," A voice in Buffy’s head repeated as the slayer went through her training kata. It had been a month since school started and her training had gotten even more serious. Everything she did had to be perfect. Yes, she knew she was the slayer, and Spike her ‘watcher,’ but over the past week he had gotten even more serious in her training, refusing to let her go home until she had done everything what seemed like two hundred times.

"Again," Spike called. "You weren’t concentrating at the end," He added, as Buffy opened her mouth, prepared to protest.

"Yeah well I’m too busy trying to figure out how to remove that stick from your ass to concentrate," Buffy mumbled as she got back into her training stance, preparing to run through her kata for the fifth time in an hour.

"Make that two more times love," Spike said. "And before you talk next time, you might want to remember that this is a very small room, and that I have very good hearing."

"I just don’t understand what’s gotten into you this past week," Buffy said, speaking in between the blocks, kicks and punches she was doing across the floor.

"What’s gotten into me is realizing that this is the calm before the storm. We haven’t had any big-bad things, besides myself, for a while now and you need to be prepared," Spike ground out, eyes flashing angrily.

"God Spike, chill…I’m training, I’m training. See, watch me move," Buffy said softly, hoping that by not allowing her temper to meet Spike’s he might calm down and tell her what really had him so worried. He had never been one to prepare. When coming across a vamp nest he would rush in, head first, even without any stakes leaving the slayer to follow after him. He wouldn’t be this worried about her training unless….Buffy stopped her kata.

"Spike," Buffy said.

"What is it, love?" Spike asked with a sigh.

"What’s coming?" The slayer asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, something has got your knickers in a twist, as you might say. I want to know what Big Bad is coming."

"No Big Bad," Spike said, rising from where he sat in the corner and walking over to where Buffy stood, atop mats in the center of the training room.

"Spike, don’t lie to me," The slayer protested. "I know you want me to train, but until this week you’ve never been this invested in my training. What’s up…tell me."

It would have been easy to lie to her. That is, if her hair hadn’t come out of the ponytail it had been in all training session; if it wasn’t fanned out across her back. It her skin wasn’t glistening from the layer of sweat that had collected while she was training. If she hadn’t looked so damn beautiful he could have lied to her. But she did, and he couldn’t so Spike did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her.

The first few seconds of the kiss were bliss to Buffy. The kiss was soft and teasing, tentative and sweet. His lips played against hers and his hands came up and clutched her shoulders softly yet possessively. But after only a few moments it stopped being so wonderful. Buffy pushed Spike away more forcefully than she meant to. He stumbled backwards and fell, landing several feet from her.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Spike asked angrily, resting his elbows on the floor so he could get a better look at the slayer.

"I hate you," Buffy whispered. The slayer turned and fled from the training room, not even stopping to pick up her coat.

"What did I do?" Spike asked. No one answered his question. The training room was empty.

Buffy patrolled the streets of LA alone. No, patrolled wasn’t the right word. Walking aimlessly was more like it. How could he? She had been so stupid those first few seconds, thinking that something inside him had called out to her, thinking that he had kissed her because he loved her, even liked her. Her disillusions were quickly shattered. He was just trying to distract her; he was just trying to keep her from questioning him about the big bad that she knew was lurking on the horizon. How could he do that?

How could she do that? Walk out of the training room with no explanation. Especially after he kissed her! Oh…kissed her. And she thought…of course it kind of was…but… Spike left the training room in a hurry, grabbing the slayer’s coat before he left. He didn’t have much time to waste. It would be sunrise soon, and he had a slayer to find.

Buffy yawned as she got off the elevator and headed down the twisting hallways of her apartment building. She fumbled around in her pockets for a minute before cursing.

"Just my luck. I leave my keys in my jacket pocket and leave my jacket in the training room." Buffy arrived in front of her door and rolled her eyes at her own carelessness, about to turn back around and head out towards the training room when she heard a voice behind her.

"Going somewhere, love?"

"What are you doing here Spike?" Buffy asked without turning.

"I need to talk to you," Spike said, his voice holding no trace of his normally cocky tone.

"About what?" Buffy asked, hands on her hips. Spike pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and walked towards Buffy, placing himself between her and the door so that she was facing him.

"You know what. We kissed Buffy. You and me."

"We kissed because you couldn’t bear to tell me what’s really on your mind. Instead you chose to shut me up and stop my questions the only way you knew how, and if you-" Buffy was cut off by a pounding sound coming from the floor, followed by a shrill voice yelling "shut up."

"Let’s go inside, love," Spike suggested.

"Well I’d love to. But I think God decided that my day wasn’t quite good enough. So, God decided to have me leave my jacket, with my key inside, back in the-" Buffy was cut off once more. This time however, by Spike who reached into her jacket pocket and produced her key.

"Brought your coat love. Didn’t want you to get cold," Spike explained. Buffy grabbed the key from him and unlocked the door, muttering a thank you as she went inside.

Spike followed the slayer into her apartment and shed his duster, hanging it up neatly on the pegs that Buffy had hung next to the apartment door. Then he followed the slayer into the kitchen where she had begun to boil hot water, knowing that Spike would want hot chocolate. When Buffy heard Spike enter the kitchen she began to speak once more.

"First of all, you should have told me that something was coming. Second of all, you shouldn’t have kissed me to get me to shut up. If you don’t want to answer one of my questions then you don’t answer it, you don’t kiss someone to stop their mouth from moving," Buffy ranted.

Spike opened a cabinet over the sink and produced two packets of Swiss Miss. He handed them to without a word and watched as she got out two mugs and poured the packets into them. "Last week we kissed for the first time. And I didn’t mention it because you didn’t mention it. And I figured that since we’re working together it was bound to happen. But never more than one time. Then tonight. It was a second time. It happens once and it’s a mistake. But a second time, it means something. I thought it meant something. And I know it’s stupid but ever since I met you-and I cannot believe I’m telling you this-but ever since I’ve met you I’ve felt something for you. I’ve-" Buffy was cut off by the high pitched whistle of the tea kettle. She turned the stove off and poured the hot water into the two mugs. Spike watched, still silent, as the brown chocolate mix dissolved into the hot water.

"Buffy," He whispered.

"Yes."

"Once is a mistake," Spike kissed Buffy gently on the forehead. "Twice means something," Spike kissed Buffy on the nose. "Three times," The vampire’s mouth hovered above the Slayer’s.

Buffy didn’t wait for Spike to tell her what three times meant. She kissed him. And he was shocked for a minute but all the training they’d done together must have paid off because he reacted lightning fast. And he was kissing her back. And it was better than in the training room, and better than in the apartment, and much better than in Buffy’s dream. Because this time, no one was being shut up. Buffy had simply found….other uses for Spike’s mouth.

Spike backed the slayer against the small table that stood to the side of the kitchen. His eyes were closed but he could still picture her in his mind. Gorgeous. Lips slightly puffy from being kissed, face flushed with the intensity of it all. His hands traveled down to the slayer’s waste and then ran back up to her hair, which they threaded in. She had such soft golden hair. She was his goldilocks. His rapunzel. His everything.

"Buffy awoke when a small beam of light hit her closed eyes. She moaned sleepily, still not daring to open her eyes and realize that last night had been a dream. It was only when she heard the creak of bedsprings that the slayer tentatively opened her eyes. And there he was. Spike, eyes opened, staring down at her with the most innocent expression on his face. He wore a dimpled smile and his eyes stared into hers curiously. Buffy reached one of her hands up and brushed it gently through Spike’s curls. His hair jail must have stopped working while they were sleeping because the normally put-together vampire now sported a head of bleached ringlets.

"Sleep well love?" Spike asked softly. Buffy nodded, snuggling into Spike’s chest and murmuring contently when he hugged her closer.

"How long have you been up?" Buffy asked.

"’Bout an hour. I woke up when the sun hit me. Out of instinct I suppose," At Buffy’s worried look he added, "there’s not enough sunlight coming through to hurt me. Just enough so that I can see your gorgeous face."

Buffy blushed, obviously pleased and looked at Spike’s face. She traced one cheekbone gently before leaning up. Their lips were only centimeters apart and both leaned in gently when-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Spike leaned his head back and groaned in defeat. "Is it too much to ask for one bloody perfect moment?" He asked rhetorically, looking heavenward as Buffy leaned over his chest and unplugged her alarm clock.

"All better," The slayer proclaimed joyously, noticing the angry look on Spike’s face.

"Well, the moments ruined so I think-" Spike began, only to be cut off by Buffy’s insistent lips upon his. "Right then…moment’s back."

"Spike, remember a few days ago when we kissed?" Buffy asked the vampire on whose lap she sat. The two were watching Passions and when Buffy’s constant fidgeting had distracting Spike from the show he had pulled the Slayer onto his lap and held her still.

"Yes, as I catalogue all the kisses we’ve shared so that there’s no chance of me ever forgetting a single one," Spike responded sarcastically. Buffy turned to face Spike and narrowed her eyes.

"I mean for the first time, in the training room. You were trying to distract me from asking about the new baddie lying on the horizon."

"I remember," Spike said, somewhat distracted by the television.

"Spike, listen to me, this is important," Buffy insisted. Spike rolled his eyes dramatically before hitting the power button on the remote control, plunging the room into almost total darkness.

"We’ve only been together for a few days and already you’re trying to change me, not letting me watch Passions," Spike grumbled.

"You’ve seen that episode three time!" Buffy exclaimed. "You said that as soon as it came on."

"Well, I like that one," The Vampire protested weakly, knowing that Buffy was right. It was the Slayer’s turn to roll her eyes and after doing so she got back to her original point.

"What’s the Big Bad that’s coming Spike?"

Spike sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t let the matter drop. Considering the options for a few scant seconds he realized that it would be better if she knew. "Follow me, love. You need to see it for yourself," Spike said. He removed the Slayer from his lap and slipped his boots on before exiting her apartment, trusting her to follow.

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

"S-Sp-Spike?" Buffy said weakly, "Not to sound really girly or anything, But it’s just that we’re walking together, late at night, in a dark alley, and I’m thinking-"

"You’re not scared Slayer, are you?" Spike teased.

"Of course not. I’m just saying that" Buffy began. However, in the distance a loud bang was heard and Buffy shrieked.

"That was a car backfire love," Spike said, looking at the Slayer who clutched his arm, an expression of abject fear on her face.

"Oh," Buffy replied meekly.

"You can beat up a demon until the cows come home but you scream bloody murder every time you see a spider and you can’t stand walking through alleys at night," Spike chuckled. "You really are a mystery Summers."

"Yeah well, you’re being pretty mysterious yourself tonight mister. Leading me through dark alleys and not telling me where we're heading. And I hope you don’t expect me to fight because I only brought one stake and I," Buffy babbled.

"I know love, I know." Spike thought for a moment before speaking. "You once asked me where I lived. I told you that someday I might show you. Today love, is your lucky day."

"So this Big Bad you’re showing me is what, you’re dirty laundry?" Buffy asked with a smirk.

"It’s in a book in my apartment. Now shush or you’ll wake the locals," Spike said, squeezing Buffy hand as he sensed her unease, another piece of the eternal mystery of Buffy Summer’s. Spike wouldn’t have it any other way.

"Nice place," Buffy said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"Haha love. I know it doesn’t compare to your place but it’s convenient for me. Anyway, when I found this place I only expected to be in the city for a few days," Spike explained. The Vampire gestured for Buffy to take a seat on the musty couch and she did.

The couch the Slayer sat on had most definitely seen better days, as had the rest of the large room. The tile on the floor was coming up and the wooden paneling on the wall had begun to rot. The entire building looked like it might have been a large factory. A 70s style television sat across from the couch, a small table in between the two.

"Was this place a factory?" Buffy asked. Spike had begun to rummage through a large pile of books and papers that sat a few feet away from the couch the Slayer sat on.

"Until about twenty years ago it was. Then there was a fire and the center of the building was burnt out. Only enough of the base was left to keep the building standing. It was never knocked down because all the workers hired ‘mysteriously’ died. Most of them of blood loss."

"How do you know all of this?" Buffy asked

"The vamps who had this place before I did told me about the history," Spike answered.

"And what happened to them?"

Spike flashed fang at the Slayer and she rolled her eyes.

"You couldn’t have just paid them for it," Buffy grumbled.

"What can I say baby. I’m a bad, rude man."

After a few minutes of silence Spike ceased his search and walked back over to the couch, a book clutched tightly in his hands. Spike flipped through the pages before he settled on one in the center of the book. The page Spike showed the Slayer had a large picture on it and a few lines underneath. The picture was a black and white drawing of what, at first glance appeared to be an average vampire. She was dressed in a 19th Century style of gown with her hair piled atop her head and game face on. However, the caption under the picture indicated that this vampire was anything but ordinary.

The oldest known vampire, Malcah was 1020 when she was captured by the Watcher’s Council in 1897.. Being such a powerful vampire, the council found it impossible to kill her. So, they put Malcah into a deep sleep. Legend has it she will rise one hundred years from the day she was left sleeping in the mouth of hell, and will reek havoc on the ones who put her to sleep, and on the world.

"So?" Buffy asked.

"So, Slayer, this means that a very powerful vampire is going to rise and try to destroy the world and the Watcher’s Council," Spike exclaimed.

"Spike, it’s just a legend. The Watcher’s Council put a vamp to sleep and she told them she’d get revenge, it doesn’t mean she’s going to." Buffy explained.

"The Watcher’s Council doesn’t think Malcah is going to arise, but vamps know differently. I never met this vampire queen but even I can feel her power and strength coursing through me."

"You’re from her line?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. Granted I never met her, so my connection with her is not as strong as some vampires connection, but I can still feel her." Spike answered.

"So how do I stop her? I don’t even know where she’s going to rise from."’

"The mouth of hell. Loosely translated to Sunnydale. Home of all things not good, and un-pure." Spike said with a humorless chuckle. "Pack a bag baby, we leave tomorrow night."

From what Buffy could tell Sunnydale was a one Starbucks town with enough vampires to fill LA. On her and Spike’s way from the parking lot into the Sunrise Motel three vampires attacked the duo. They were only fledglings and Spike and Buffy made quick work of them. However, Spike took this as a sign that Malcah’s presence had been felt by vampires besides himself and that was why so many of his kind were in Sunnydale. Buffy took it as a sign that he needed to watch less daytime TV. They settled the score by deciding to take the night off from patrol. Exhausted, the pair stumbled into their motel room and fell asleep, both still fully clothed.

"Morning, sunshine," Spike said in sing-song voice. He watched with amusement as Buffy’s eyes opened and saw the time on the clock. The Slayer groaned as she realized that Spike wanted to get started on the day.

"Go away. I have important sleep needs," The Slayer complained.

"I know, baby, but right now we have work to do. Supposedly there’s a band of humans that fight vamps here. A watcher leads them and they hang out at the Sunnydale High School library."

"So?" Buffy asked.

"So, the sooner we introduce ourselves the sooner we can get their help in figuring out where and when Malcah is going to rise, and what she’s going to do once she does," Spike answered.

Buffy rolled out of bed and made her way into the small bathroom. She flicked the light switch, eyes glued to the mirror as the room was illuminated by fluorescent light. The Slayer sensed Spike’s presence behind her. However, her eyes were still focused on the mirror and she did not see him.

"Did you ever wonder why no new watcher was sent to train me after Merrick died?" Buffy asked.

"Not really," Spike responded after a moment. "I never really thought about it."

Buffy stared strait into her hazel eye’s reflection in the mirror. "They sent a few watcher’s the weeks after Merrick died. I ignored them all. Men and women would come to my house while my mom was out, preaching to me about my sacred duty and their wish to train me. I knew that it was important to listen to them. I guess, I just felt like to accept another watcher would be like betraying Merrick’s memory. Like maybe he was watching from heaven and would feel like I had replaced him. No one could ever replace him. He was kind of like a father to me." Buffy took a deep breath and Spike placed his hands on her shoulders in an action of comfort and protection.

"Love, if you don’t want to talk about it you don’t need to-" Spike began. However, Buffy continued speaking, cutting him off.

"If I meet this watcher I just know he’ll inform the council of that I contacted them and whatever distracted them from sending council representatives after them will suddenly not seem so important. For the time being they’ve forgotten about me, and I like it that way. I have you as my watcher, and Merrick’s still in my heart. He knows that I haven’t betrayed him. It’s one thing when you’re training me; it’s another when a stuffy old man is. Merrick was the only stuffy old man in my life. I don’t want another. The council can’t be informed of where I am, or what I’m doing," Buffy insisted.

"From all the information I’ve gathered this watcher isn’t like the others. He’s not going to betray you. If you tell him that you don’t want an official watcher and that you don’t want the council to know where you are he won’t tell them. Right now the most important thing is to stop Malcah from carrying out her revenge on the Council," Spike explained gently.

"But Spike-"

"It’s what Merrick would have wanted," Spike whispered. "It’s what Joyce would have wanted."

"And you?" Buffy asked softly.

"I just want to see you happy love. If you don’t save the world this time because you’re afraid of stuffy English men in suits then I know you won’t be happy. I love you, baby. And once we save the world I’ll make you a solemn pledge," Spike said.

"What?"

"Lots of celebratory sex," Spike told Buffy, a smirk playing across his lips. The Slayer turned in his arms, looking into his eyes for the first time since the conversation had begun.

"And a few days off of patrolling?" Buffy asked planting playful kisses up and down Spike’s neck.

"Anything my love," Spike agreed. "Just to keep you happy. Just so I can see you smile. It’s the only glimpse of the sun I get."