Chapter 5

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"You first," Buffy said, ushering Jonathan through the front door to her house and shutting it after them. "I don’t want you behind my back, especially not while my hands are full." She walked into the living room and dropped the little boy gently onto the couch. "Here you go, Nathaniel," she said, turning on the television. "You sit here, and I’ll find you some nice cartoons to watch. Would you like that?"

"He’s not gonna answer you. Why are you bothering with the TV? Like he’s gonna care about Teletubbies right now," Jonathan said, his mouth twisting into a sullen scowl. "He won’t even know they’re on. You might as well save the electricity."

"If he’s going to be like this for a while, I’d rather pretend he was zoned out from TV like a normal kid," she said, rubbing her hand over the boy’s brown curls. "It’s just too creepy, otherwise."
 

"Are you just going to leave him here while we go find Warren? Alone?"
 

"Of course not," Buffy said, crossing the room and picking up the telephone. "He could snap out of it any minute, and when he does, he’ll be scared. He’ll need someone with him who can comfort him. So, Anya will stay with him. Or Xander, if he’s off of work." She frowned, listening to the phone ring a sixth time, and then a seventh. "There’s got to be someone at the Magic Box, but they’re not picking up the phone. If I can’t reach them, we’ll have to go get Dawn from Spike’s..."

The door burst open, cutting Buffy off in mid-sentence. "Crypt…" she finished slowly, looking at the fear on Dawn and Tara’s faces as they rushed into the living room. Hanging up the phone, she grabbed Dawn’s hand. "Or, not. Are you okay? Why are you here? You’re suppose to be watching… oh. Someone came for him, is that it?"

Tara nodded. "W-Warren," she stuttered, trying to keep her voice calm. "He took him, about fifteen minutes ago. And he didn’t take the tranquilizers, so wherever Spike is, he’s awake."

"But you two, you’re okay? Dawn?" Buffy asked. She pulled Dawn to face her and brushed the hair away from her face. "You’re not hurt?"

Shrugging out of her sister’s grasp, Dawn glared at her. "Warren took Spike, and you only ask about us? Aren’t you gonna ask if Spike’s okay?"

Buffy blinked. "He’s as okay as he can be," she said. "Warren won’t kill him. He can’t even get close to Spike without getting his head bitten off. He probably only took him to psych us out, you know, to mess with our heads. We’ll find Warren and get Spike back."

Backing away, Dawn’s face darkened with anger. "Oh sure! You’re all nice to him while he’s unconscious! But now that he’s awake and out there somewhere with a insane murderer, you could care less about helping him! What, you only love him when he’s not himself? Is that it? When he can’t understand? That’s real mature Buffy. Real nice, too."

Buffy’s face flushed red. She bit her lip, hard, and tried to pretend it wasn’t the tang of her own blood she was tasting. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s the problem, exactly? We find Warren, we find Spike, right? Same game plan, then. No worries."

"But Buffy, I don’t think Warren took Spike to mess with us," Tara said, stepping closer to Dawn. "I think he took Spike to… well, to mess with him. In the crypt, he mentioned something about having plans for Spike. Big ones, he said. And um… he mentioned something about a, ah, a leather collar. It didn’t sound to happy."

Jonathan paled. "Uh-oh," he said, taking a wary step back, away from Buffy.

The three girls turned to face him. "Uh-oh what?" Buffy said, advancing on him. "You know something, don’t you?"

"Maybe," he muttered, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the hardwood floor. "I’m not sure, but maybe."

Grabbing his arm, Buffy gave him a hard shake. "Talk, Jonathan. And talk now."

"Umm… well, see, a few months back, Spike came to Warren and had him examine his chip to make sure it was still working."

"Spike did what?" Buffy asked, surprised. She shot a quick look at Tara. "I… I didn’t know that. He really wanted to make sure he was right, that it still worked?"

"Well, yeah, he did. And to get Warren to help him, he came into our lair all "I’m gonna hurt your Fett" and stuff. He was real mean. Andrew still has nightmares."

"Huh? Fett? What are you talking about?" Dawn asked. "Did you take some of Warren’s happy pills?"

"Never mind that," Buffy said, tightening her grip on his arm. "Spike came to Warren, threatened him, and so Warren checked out his chip. So what?"

"Warren didn’t like it too much. He thought, you know, that if we helped Spike, he’d return the favor."

Tara raised an eyebrow. "Warren hasn’t spent much time around vampires, has he."

"Only Spike. And only twice, I guess. Once when he built the…" Jonathan broke off as Buffy coughed meaningfully. "Okay, anyways, when he realized Spike wouldn’t cooperate with us, Warren got really mad. Not just because he wouldn’t help us, but because Spike pushed him around. Warren likes being the guy with the power, not the guy who’s the helpless sissy. And Andrew was pissed because Spike threatened to hurt his Star Wars figurine. So, we were all talking about ways to pay him back, you know, for being a bully and threatening us. I thought it would be funny to egg his crypt, or TP it. A practical joke, you know? Something we could all get a laugh at. But Warren… well, I guess that’s when he first thought about harnessing the power of Spike’s chip. He didn’t mention that at the time, though."

"Okay," Buffy said, pushing him against the wall. "Get to the point."

Swallowing hard, Jonathan looked up at her. "Warren said that he thought he could make an electric collar for Spike. A choke collar with metal teeth on it. One that would zap him if he tried to hurt one of us. He said that he could make it so that Spike couldn’t hurt us, but could still attack other people if we wanted him to. Sort of like a… umm…"

"An attack dog," Dawn finished, looking sick. "He’s gonna use Spike to protect him and hurt other people?"

"I think so," he said, unable to look at Buffy. "It makes sense, you know. With an army of brainwashed people behind him and an attack vampire on a leash at his side, there’s not much Warren couldn’t do."

"Only in your twisted mind would something that sick ever make sense," Buffy said. "So, if Warren has one of these collars on Spike, he can do whatever he wants to him. He can make him jump through hoops, or lick his boots, or…"

"Anything," Jonathan finished sickly. "Whatever he feels like. Anything at all."

Cold fear washed over Buffy. Releasing Jonathan, she stumbled over to the couch and sat beside Nathaniel, her head buried in her hands. Think, Slayer, she told herself in a stern inner voice that sounded remarkably like Giles. Don’t feel, think! But after so many months of feeling numb, she was out of practice at holding back her emotions. In her mind, she saw Spike, beaten by Glory, telling her he’d have died to protect Dawn. Spike, fighting demons at her side on a hundred different nights, in perfect harmony with the cadence of her blows. She felt the cool, white weight of his body moving on top of her own. She remembered his eyes, blue and searching, locked onto hers as he shuddered deep inside of her body. His eyes, probing into hers as though within them, he truly could see into her soul, see that carefully hidden ball of emotion she held for him. His eyes, swollen shut from the brutality of her fists punching into them…

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she looked up into Dawn’s anxious face. Dawn was saying something, her lips were moving, but Buffy couldn’t understand her words. She rubbed her face briskly with her hands, trying to focus.

"Buffy!" Dawn repeated, squeezing her sister’s shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, I’m fine," Buffy stammered, covering Dawn’s hand with her own. "Sorry. Just a… umm.. just a post-death-issues moment. I’m fine now." Her body shook, revealing her words as lies. "Just… give me a sec, okay?"

Tara came to sit beside her friend. She rubbed Buffy’s back with large, circular motions. "Take some deep breaths, honey. Try to relax. We’ll get Spike back. We will."

"Jeez," Dawn said, watching her sister struggle for calm. "I take it back. You care about Spike. You love him. I was wrong."

"I don’t… I don’t… I mean…" Buffy closed her eyes, composing herself. "I feel… something. Love… maybe, or something. The thought of Spike being Warren’s plaything… knowing he can do anything to him… it’s just… it’s hard, okay? But how I feel… that doesn’t matter right now, not really. What matters is finding Warren and stopping him before any more innocent people get hurt."

Tara stood and held out her hand to Buffy. "Okay," she said, her voice strong. "Let’s go then, Slayer. Time to fight the good fight."

Smiling wanly, Buffy took Tara’s hand. "Let’s make a plan. First step is finding Warren."

Jonathan stepped forward. "I was thinking… Tara said he had more slaves with him at Spike’s crypt. I didn’t know he had any others, besides the ones at our lair."

"That means he must have a place of his own, a secret lair," Buffy said, nodding. "And I’m betting that he’s stashing more victim’s there, probably lots more. Warren isn’t exactly Mr. Restraint. I’m sure he’s used that Dampener thingy to zap as many people as he could get away with. But where would he be keeping them? That’s the most important question right now."
 

"No," Willow said, walking in the room with Andrew trailing after her. "More important than that is what he’s planning to do with them. And that’s a question I can answer."

Tara grinned. "Good news. Yay. That’s a first today."

"Just call me Answer Girl," Willow said, returning Tara’s smile shyly. "Um, the non-magical kind of answers, that is. You wouldn’t believe how much longer it takes to get rid of a van the old fashioned way. But hey, it was a good thing. If I’d done it magically, I wouldn’t have found… well, this," she said, handing a slip of paper to Buffy. "We tore it off of a notepad. Andrew says this is written in Warren’s handwriting."

"Sunnydale PD," Buffy read aloud.

"The police department?" Dawn asked. "What about it?"

"That’s his first step," Buffy said, straightening her shoulders. "Of course. Where else would he start? The place with the most power of authority, right?"

"Plus, if he puts the whammy on all those cops and criminals, he adds a ton of people who are trained in violence to his group of slaves. Smart plan… umm… if you go for that sort of thing," he ended defensively, wilting under the glares of the women. "Which I don’t. Not anymore at least."

"With a bunch of slave that powerful protecting him, and with a pet attack vampire, he could easily brain melt the entire town," Tara said, moving to Willow’s side. "The whole state even."

"The whole of wherever he feels like, with time," Buffy said, trying to hide her fear. "But that’s not gonna happen. We’re making a plan of action, right? So- we don’t know where he is now, but we do know he’ll eventually hit the police station. We’ll wait for him there. Do a stake out. If we’re prepared, he won’t even get through the doors."

"One of us should keep an eye on their lair, just in case he goes back there," Tara said. "I can do that, I guess."

"No. Even if he did show up there, you couldn’t take him on. You wouldn’t be able to contact me and tell me he’s there. It wouldn’t help anything- especially if he caught you spying on him. We already have one friend to rescue."

"What if we could communicate, though? Like, maybe we could find a cell phone?"

Willow motioned to Andrew, who stepped forward, a cardboard box of electronic equipment in his arms. "Answer Girl scores again. Their van had all kinds of neat toys. Most of them won’t help us beat Warren, but there were a few things…" She dug through the box, then pulled out a few things. "Like these walkie-talkies. Just what we need, right?"

"Right. Okay." Buffy turned to Dawn. "You’re staying here. I need you to watch Nathaniel."

"But Buffy, Spike’s my friend. I want to help him."

"You are helping him, by helping me. Nathaniel is my responsibility, and I can’t watch him and fight Warren at the same time. If he comes back from la-la land, he’s gonna be really freaked out. Can you take care of him? Please?"

Dawn looked over at the little boy, wincing at his vacant stare. "Yeah," she said quietly, "I’ll stay him. Poor little guy."

"Great. Will, you go over to the Magic Box. Grab whatever weapons you think we could use. Nothing too big- we don’t want to hurt anyone but Warren, unless we have to. Just restrain them till they come to their senses again. Bring Xander and Anya and meet me outside the police department. Jonathan and I will be in the alley on the north side of the building."

"Got it," Willow said, passing out the walkie-talkies. "Tara? You’re going to the lair?"
 

"Yup," she said, taking one of the radios. "If that’s part of Buffy’s plan."

"That’s fine. You wait outside the Levinson’s house. Don’t let Jonathan’s parents see you though. And do not, no matter what, take on Warren. I don’t care what he’s doing. If you see him, contact me, and that’s it. I don’t want him getting you, too."

"Me neither," she said. "Glad that’s not part of the plan. If I see him, I’ll call you right away.’

"What about me?" Andrew said. He looked over at Dawn, his eyes widening as he took in her short skirt and tank top. "I can… umm.. I can stay here with her, help baby sit the kid."

"No way that’s gonna happen," Willow said. "You’re coming with me."

"All right then. Plan’s made. Let’s move out," Buffy said, taking a walkie-talkie for herself and handing one to her sister. "Dawn, keep the doors locked. If Warren shows up, you run like hell. Leave the kid here. I know, that doesn’t sound like a good thing, but it’s the best option. Warren’s already hurt him as much as he’s going to. If he gets his hands on you…"

"Let’s just not think about that, okay? Jeez. Are you trying to scare me?"

"Yes," Buffy said, hugging her. "If you’re scared, you’re alert. If you’re alert, hopefully you’ll be safe. If he got you, too…" Her eyes clouded over. "I just… I couldn’t…"

"Hey, it’s okay," Dawn said, tightening her arms around Buffy’s waist. "Don’t go all space cadet on me again. I’ll be fine. You just go and save the day. That’s what you’re best at."

"A vote of confidence. Great. Thanks." She turned away and opened her weapon’s chest. Handing Dawn a lightweight dagger, she said, "Keep this on you at all times. Even in the bathroom. No matter what. Capiche?"

"Capiche." Dawn walked behind Buffy to the door and opened it for her. She watched her sister walk with Jonathan across the porch. "And Buffy? Be careful, okay?" she said to her sister’s back.

Buffy didn’t pause to turn around. "Always."

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

"Stake-outs suck," Jonathan whined. The vinyl seat of the car made squishing sounds as he fidgeted restlessly. "This alley sucks. And this car sucks, too. Whose is it again?"

"Spike’s," Buffy muttered, resting her knees against the glove box of the DeSoto. She blinked to soothe her eyes from the sting of the streetlights. "You think any car of mine would smell like cigarettes, bourbon and blood?"

"I dunno. Guess not," he said, thumping his forehead against the steering wheel. "I wonder what CD’s he has back there. Umm.. do you know if he likes Candlebox? That sounds really good right now."

"No music." Buffy leaned her head against the window, taking comfort in the coolness of the glass against her warm skin.

"Uh… okay." Jonathan sighed. He drummed his fingers over the edge of the dashboard. "So, you and Spike, huh?"

Buffy glared at him. "No talking, either."

"Well, we gotta do something! We’ve been waiting in this car for almost an hour. I can’t sit still much longer then that!"

"Okay, okay," Buffy said, straightening in her seat. "Let’s get out and stretch our legs. Willow should be here any minute with Xander and Anya."

She followed Jonathan out of the car, trying not to think about the last time she’d been in this alley. Had in only been the night before? So much had taken place over the last two days. Last night, she’d stood over the body of a girl she’d been convinced she’d killed. Now, she stood over the spot where she’d thrashed Spike to within an inch of his unlife. With a small whimper, she knelt on the pavement and touched a darkened stain where Spike’s blood had pooled. "I’m sorry," she whispered, "So sorry."

"What are you doing?" Jonathan asked. He walked around her. "Is this what you do before a battle… some kind of weird, Slayer ritual?"

"Shut up," she told him, closing her eyes. She spread her hand flat on the stain, as if she could absorb it through her skin. "This is your fault. If you guys hadn’t messed with me, I’d be home watching Friends with Dawn. Spike would be watching old horror flicks in his crypt. I wouldn’t…"

"You’re worried about him," Jonathan said, sitting beside her. "I can tell. You’re all wrinkly around your eyes."

"Gee, thanks," she said, rocking back on her heels. "Of course I’m worried about him. Warren wants to see Spike toothless. He could be doing anything to him right now, and here I sit, not rushing to his rescue. This sort of defines ‘going against the grain’."

"You’re in love with him," Jonathan said flatly. "Don’t even bother denying it. I always knew he liked you. Remember, when we used to hang out-"
 

"Jonathan, we never hung out."

"Okay, you know what I mean. When I made you like me by using that spell. I saw you two together then, and there was definitely a spark between you guys."

"You mean a fuse. Like, to a bomb. Spike and I… we’re mostly just gonna blow up in each other’s faces. And what’s up with everyone asking if I love him? Can’t you guys all just lay off a little?" She stood up, kicking at a discarded soda can. "It’s not like it’s any of your business."

"So, you don’t love him?"

She leaned down to pick up a empty candy wrapper. Tossing it into the dumpster, she brushed her hands on her jeans. "No," she said, her voice very, very small and unconvincing even to her ears.

Just then, the walkie-talkie on her belt buzzed, making them both jump. "Buffy? Buffy, are you there?"

"Tara, is that you?" Buffy asked, holding the radio to her ear. "What’s wrong?"

"A blue van just pulled up at Jonathan’s house. Warren jumped out and ran inside. I was gonna call you, but he came back out after only a minute and went into the house across the street. He barely got through the door there, and right now, he’s bringing people out onto the sidewalk. Zombie-type people."

"Tara? How many? How many people does he have?"

"Umm… maybe a few dozen? Forty or so? Five more just climbed out of the van- no, make that six. Oh. Oh, Buffy, I see Spike. A man just pulled him out of the van. He’s not all the way unconscious, but he still looks groggy. I mean, he’s not going for anyone’s throat yet."

Buffy squeezed the radio, her knuckles white. "Where’s Warren?"
 

"He’s closing the door to the house. He’s got something in his hands… it’s that collar Jonathan told us about. He’s putting it around Spike’s neck and… it looks like Spike’s waking up… Warren’s putting him on a leash."

Buffy snorted. "Good for us, bad for him. Warren’s not strong enough to hold a leash attached to a vampire. Spike’ll pull free and rip his throat out."

"You’d think… but… Oh my God…"

"Tara! Tara, what’s happening?"

"Oh, Buffy…" Tara moaned.

Buffy’s eyes widened as she heard a agonized scream come from the radio. "That was Spike. Tara! That was Spike. Talk to me. What’s going on?"
 

"Oh God. Oh God, Buffy. He’s electrocuting him. Every time Spike lunges on the leash, Warren’s giving him a shock. A bad one, from the way it looks. That’s why Spike isn’t pulling free. And that’s why he’s not attacking Warren. He’s feral, and he’s accepting Warren as his alpha. Either that or he’s just too scared of getting zapped again to try to hurt him. And the collar’s got these sharp things that cut into his neck when Warren pulls on the leash. He’s bleeding. He’s bleeding a lot. Buffy…"

Buffy took a deep breath. Then another. And another. When she could speak, she forced her words to come out slowly. "I’m coming. Right now, I’m on my way."

"No, stay there. Warren’s moving them down the street. I’m guessing he’s on his way to you now. Are you guys ready for him?"

"We will be." She turned off the walkie-talkie and hooked it back onto her belt. "Change of plan, Jonathan. No more rushing into battle. We’ve gotta be smart about this. I think I know what to do. We should have about fifteen minutes before Warren get here. Let’s go meet the gang half way and fill them in." Looking down at Spike’s blood stain on the pavement, she clenched her jaw. "I can’t just sit here."

"Sure," Jonathan said, watching Buffy as she walked back towards the DeSoto. "You don’t love him. Right."

Chapter 6

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Buffy heard them before she saw them. The footsteps of Warren’s group marched to an even beat, as precisely as if they were puppets whose strings were being pulled at the exact same time. Fifty or so zombie people against the seven of us, Buffy thought, moving into the middle of the street. Fantastic odds. Especially when they can kill us and we really shouldn’t be killing them. Tapping the end of her tazer gun against her thigh, she stood her ground and watched as the mob approached. She craned her neck, but couldn’t see Warren or Spike. That didn’t surprise her. Warren would be safely ensconced in the middle of his people, where he wouldn’t be hurt. With a final nod to her friends hidden the shadows of the buildings that lined the street, Buffy called out into the crowd.

"Warren! If you don’t get out here and face me, I swear, I will come in and get you. This’ll go a lot easier on you if you don’t make me do that."

"You’ll come in and get me, Slayer?" Warren said, calmly stepping through the thickly positioned rows of people. "Isn’t that interesting. You’ll get me… and my little dog too?"

He pulled Spike out from the crowd, and watched Buffy’s face with obvious enjoyment. She forced herself to blank out all expression, a difficult feat considering the emotions she battled at the sight of Spike’s neck. The collar hung with only an inch of slack, giving Buffy a glimpse of the sharp spines that lined the leather and rested against Spike’s skin. When Warren pulled on the leash, the collar constricted, causing the spines to impale Spike’s neck. Had he been wearing a shirt of any color other than black, she knew it would’ve been stained red from bottom to top with his blood. As it was, his shirt clung damply to his chest and abdomen. She stared into his face, searching for some sign that he recognized her. There was nothing in his eyes but fierce wildness.

I know you’ll never love me. I know that I’m a monster. But you treat me like a man. The words he’d given her shortly before she died rushed back at her as she studied him. If he hadn’t been a monster before, he certainly was one now. Warren had changed him, had taken all of Spike’s humanity from him and allowed only his demon to remain. But this monster on his knees before her, this beast who growled and snarled and spat, this wasn’t Spike. If Warren was trying to show how much of a monster Spike was, he’d failed utterly. All Buffy learned was how much of a monster Spike was not.

Play it cool, she told herself. The last thing she wanted was to expose her weaknesses to Warren. Clucking her tongue, she stepped closer. "Yes Dorothy, your little dog too," she said, relaxing her shoulders deliberately. "We’ve got a bit of a situation here, don’t we?"

"You do, at least. I’m pretty much in the clear. I’ve got my Dampener," he said, patting his coat pocket, "and my slaves, just waiting for a word from me to tell them to attack you. And I’ve got someone who belonged to you." He gave Spike’s leash a vicious tug, ignoring the vampire’s howls of pain. "Wanta see something neat?"
 

"No, that’s okay," Buffy said, "I’ve seen enough of what you think is neat."

"Oh, but this is my new toy. It’s a lot of fun." Warren opened his hand and showed her a tiny gadget. "One press of this button, and… well… actions do speak louder than words, don’t they?" He pushed the button with flair, and held it down while the collar electrocuted Spike.

Buffy ground her teeth. Stay cool. Stay calm. Stay focused. This is the plan. She repeated the words to herself silently as Warren continued Spike’s torture. This is the plan.

Finally, Warren released the button and watched as Spike fell to the ground. The vampire moaned in agony, hugging his arms to his chest. "What’s wrong, Slayer? You don’t have anything to say to me? I thought you took better care of your people than this. Leaving a poor, helpless vampire to my mercies… that’s not very heroic, you know."

"You said it yourself. He’s a vampire. A monster. I’m the Slayer. What did you think, that I’d come running to his rescue?" She smirked, taking another step towards them. Three steps away, that’s all. Three more steps and you’re safe, Spike. "You didn’t take one of my people- he’s not a person. But I have a person who belongs to you."

She raised her hand, waving into the darkness of the alley. Andrew hurried towards her, his shoulders hunched. Standing slightly behind Buffy’s back, he shivered and carefully avoided Warren’s eyes. "Hi," he said softly towards the pavement.

Warren’s jaw dropped. "Andrew!" he said. "Dude, did she take you? Kidnap you?"

"Uhm… no. I came to her. She’s protecting me." He inched closer to Buffy.

"Protecting you! You’re her arch nemesis! Who could she be protecting you from?" He walked closer, his face a portrait of confusion. "If you needed protection, you should have waited for me at the lair. I was coming right back!"

"Actually… you’re the one she’s protecting me from. You and your stupid pills," he said, anger making his voice and hands shake. He pulled the bottle of pills from his pocket and threw it towards Warren. It bounced harmlessly off of the slave standing next to him. "You think you’re so smart, but you’re not. You trusted us. You never thought we’d betray you."

"Us?" Warren went pale. He looked past Buffy uneasily, searching the sidewalks. "Where’s Jonathan?"

"Boo," said a voice behind him. Warren started to turn around, but found himself trapped by the hands of Jonathan and Xander. Jonathan glared up at him. "We came through your sick-o mob from the back," he said. "Never thought of that, did you smart-guy?"

Warren started to call orders to his slaves, only to find a cloth gag being forced into his mouth. Looking at Spike desperately, Warren released the vampire’s leash.

Before Spike could move, Buffy was on his. She jumped forward and kicked him in the rib cage. He struggled to his feet, and she punched him in the face, hard enough to knock him unconscious.

"Tara, bring the tranquilizers!" she shouted, leaving him in a heap on the street and grabbing Warren from the boys. Dipping her hand into his pocket she pulled out the Cerebral Dampener. "You keep calling this a toy," she said, waving it in his face. "A toy. But it’s not. Toys are for playing games, and what you did with this was no game. Katrina is dead. You told me you loved her. How could you kill the woman you loved?"

Warren rolled his eyes above the gag. He couldn’t answer her questions with it in.

"Oh. Um… hmm. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m gonna take off your gag and you’re going to tell your victims to turn around and walk back to their homes. And to make sure you do that, I’m going to keep my hand on your throat. Got it?"

At his nod, she pulled the cloth from his mouth and squeezed his throat just enough to let him know she meant business. He did as she asked and when the mob had gone, seemed to deflate. She released her grip, and he sunk onto the edge of the sidewalk.

"How could you kill her, Warren? If you loved her?"

"She wouldn’t have me! And I’d do… I mean, I would have done anything to get her back. And I did, I did something drastic and crazy, and it worked! I had her." He paused, watching Buffy lift Spike’s body into her arms and carry him out of the street. He snorted, finally understanding. "He’s a vampire. You don’t care about him. Riiiiight. Good game, Slayer. You played a good hand. I’m impressed. But whatcha gonna do now?"
 

"What do you mean, what am I going to do?" She pillowed her coat under Spike’s head and left him in Tara’s care. Standing beside Warren, she pointed to the police station. "That’s a jail. You’re a criminal. I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m going to do."

"You toss me in jail and you’ll never get your vampire back. I’m the only one who can fix the remote controller. The longer it buzzes his brain full of chemicals, the more difficult it will be to reverse the effects. Trust me, you don’t want to wait much longer."

"You’re not just going free. You killed Katrina. You… you did terrible, terrible things. I would never let you get away with that. Never."

"Not even knowing that letting me go is the only way to save Spike?"

Jonathan grinned at him. "You moron, she’s the Slayer. Slay-yer! Of course she’s going to do the right thing and toss your psycho ass in a cell. Have fun playing footsie with Bubba the serial killer for the next fifty years."

Warren didn’t respond. He simply waited, holding Buffy’s gaze with confidence.

Everyone stared at Buffy, who stood as if frozen above Warren and Spike. She closed her eyes, fighting her conflicting emotions with all she had. She thought of Katrina’s dead eyes, and of Nathaniel, and of the pain and fear Warren had caused everyone she loved. You’re the Slayer, she told herself. Act like one. Do what you have to do.

She opened her mouth to tell Warren he was going to jail, but no words came out. She couldn’t do it. She just… couldn’t. In her mind, she heard the voice of her Watcher, faint with injury but strong in her memories. What I’ve always admired… being able to place your heart above all else….

"Put Warren in your car, Xander," Buffy said, slumping her shoulders. "Take Jonathan and Anya with you. We’ll bring Spike and meet you at my house."

Xander shook his head. "But Buffy…"

"But nothing! Put him in your car and take him to my house! There’s nothing to else to talk about. Just do it." Kicking Warren in the shin, she said, "You’ll fix Spike. When he’s back to his old self, I’ll give you the same deal I gave Jonathan and Andrew. One bright, shiny, get-out-of-town-free card. But only when you fix Spike. And only if you stay away from Jonathan and Andrew. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Warren moaned, clutching his leg.

"Fine. Let’s go." She picked up Spike and walked with him into the shadows.

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

The first thing Spike noticed when he woke from unconsciousness was that he was laying on a bed that smelled like Willow. This is not where I’m suppose to be, he thought, forcing his eyes open. That witch better not have started up with her sodding magic tricks again. Least I know my name this time around.

He blinked in the harsh light of the overhead lamp and tried to sit up. "Buffy?" he said, his voice quiet and hoarse. There was something wrong with his neck… something very wrong. There’d been a collar… but he couldn’t quite remember. He needed help. Coughing, he tried his voice again. "Buffy? Are you there?" Falling back against the pillows, he winced from the pain in his ribs.

"Buffy’s not here right now. She’s on the phone in her bedroom. Has been for a long time now. How does your head feel?"

Recognizing the voice, Spike quickly sat up, no longer caring about his pain. "Warren?" he said, incredulous and wary that Buffy would let him in her house. "What the bloody hell are you doing here? And why are we in Red’s bedroom alone?"

"How’s your head," Warren repeated, rocking forward slightly from his seat beside the bed. "Feeling… lighter?"

Glaring at him, Spike swung his legs over the side of the mattress. "I don’t know why Buffy let you in here, but you’re not staying. She won’t kill you and I can’t kill you. But I bloody well can find someone to do the job!"

"Your head?" Warren repeated, unfrightened.

Spike rubbed a hand through his hair. His head did feel different, he noticed. Not lighter, but there was an emptiness, a loss. "The chip. You took out my chip." He stared at Warren, trying to process the idea. "How? Why?"

"I didn’t take it out. I just made it so it can’t detect the signal it was receiving from whoever put it in you to begin with." Warren smiled, a small, devious smile. "You’re free. And you’re welcome, by the way."

"I’m free," Spike repeated, still processing. His eyes widened. "Buffy. Does she know?"

Snorting, Warren shook his head. "No, of course not. You think she’d let me give you your weapon back? Not likely."

"So why then? Why’d you do it, mate?" He leaned back onto the mattress, dizzy. "What do you want from me in return?"

"Just do what you do naturally, vampire. I let you loose because I couldn’t kill the Slayer myself. You’ll kill her for me."

Spike rested his head on the bed weakly. "You’re wrong. I’d never kill her."

"Why, because you love her? Oh, let me tell you buddy, that’s exactly why you’ll kill her. Take it from someone who’s been there. She’ll find out something about you that she can’t live with- that you’re free to kill again. And she’ll dump you cold. She’ll break your rotten heart and spit on the pieces. Then you’ll want to kill her. Trust me, you will. After you dream about her every night, after you watch her from a distance, so close, but never able to touch her… you’ll kill her, and you’ll love it." Warren licked his lips, his eyes gleaming. "I did."

Watching as Spike closed his eyes, Warren stood up. "See, you know I’m right. You’re a lucky guy, though. Buffy saw you as I made you- she saw Spike, the disgusting monster. Yet, you’re still alive. She made me save you. Guess she has a soft spot for evil creatures. You never can tell what gets a girl hot."

With a growl, Spike started to jump towards him, but the pain in his ribs stopped him cold. "You don’t know the first thing about Buffy," he snarled, "and you never will. But I’ll tell you something about me. I could have killed Buffy all along, you stupid git. My chip hasn’t worked on her for months. All you did was set me free to kill other humans." He rose himself on one elbow and stared Warren down. "Humans like you. I’ll remember this, Warren," he said, tapping his head. "And I’ll never forgive you for it."

"That’s enough," Willow said, walking in the door. Her face was pale and deadly calm. Tara followed her into the bedroom, a pan of warm water in her hands. "Warren, get out of here."

Without another word, Warren left the room. Willow helped Spike lay back against the pillows. Picking up a pair of scissors, she carefully cut off his blood-soaked tee shirt. Surveying the damage to his chest, she winced. "You’re a mess," she said, keeping the scissors on her lap.

Spike noticed her fingers nervously stroking the makeshift weapon. "You heard all that nonsense, did you?"

"Yep," Willow said casually. She reached into the pan of water and pulled out a wet cloth, casting him a suspicious sidelong look. "Let me clean you up, okay?" Holding the steaming rag above him with one hand and the scissors tightly in the other, she met his eyes, her question obvious.

"Clean me up, then," he said, and winced as the hot cloth touched his bruises. "I’m not going to eat you, Red. No worries there."

Glancing at Tara, Willow sighed and nodded. "Okay then. Good. But what are you gonna do?"

Spike closed his eyes and clenched his fists. The misery on his face was so obvious that Tara nearly stroked his cheek, but Willow stopped her.

"Spike?" she said, wringing out the cloth. The vampire’s blood stained the water red. "What are you going to do now?"

"What I should have done long ago. I’m leaving town. Farewell Sunnyhell, hello… wherever. You happy now Red? You get your friend back, as squeaky-clean and shiny as she ever was. No more nasty undead bloke polluting her mind and body."

Not rising to the bait, Willow dabbed the cloth along Spike’s collarbone. "When?"

"As soon as I can walk. Tonight sometime. I’ve petrol enough in the DeSoto to get to L.A. before sunrise. That’s as good a place as any to start from."

"L.A.?" Dawn asked, walking into the bedroom. "Why’re you going to L.A. Spike? You don’t look well enough to drive but… hey, while you’re there, could you bring me back…"

"I’m not coming back, Little Bit," Spike interrupted, covering his eyes with one hand as Willow scrubbed harder to clean a deeper wound on his neck. "Sorry."

"What?" Dawn’s eyes widened with shock. "But why? Is it… is it because you’re embarrassed? ‘Cause we all took care of you like you were a baby? We had to, Spike. You were totally out of it. But, it’s okay. Really! I… I still look at you the same. I mean, you’re… Spike. The Big Bad." She took a step towards to bed hopefully. "I’m scared of you. I mean, really scared. I swear!"

With a groan, Spike shook his head. "Nice of you to say so, Bit. But run along now. Red here’s gotta finish doctoring me up, then I’ll be on my way. I’m not much of one for goodbye scenes. You’ll get along just fine. Go on now."

Dawn’s chin quivered. "Fine!" she shouted. "I didn’t want you to stay anyways! You’re a stupid… a stupid… a stupid evil guy…. with stupid hair… and I hate you!" She turned on her heel and fled. A second later, Spike and Willow heard the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut.

"She didn’t mean that. Any of it. Well, maybe except for the hair part." Willow started to clean his face. "And that’s understandable."

"I know." Spike watched Willow as she finished caring for him and dumped the bloody rag back into the pan of water. "Red… look, I don’t want you telling Buffy about my chip. Warren messed with it to hurt her, and… well, that bloody prick has hurt her enough, don’t you think?"

"Spike… I have to tell Buffy. Without your chip, you could hurt people. Buffy needs to know."

"So- what? She can decide whether or not to kill another of her lovers? You saw what she went through when Angelus turned all rabid-puppy on her. And she was strong then! Now, you know she’s weaker, and you know why," he said pointedly. Willow winced. "No matter that you gave her life again, she’ll never fully forgive you. Do you really want to give her another burden to carry? Right cruel of you, that would be."

"You have to promise me that you won’t kill anyone… or, at least not unless you have to. You know, self-defense and the good-guys stuff. And you have to check in with me, tell me where you are so I can keep an eye on you, make sure you’re keeping your word." Off his look, she shook her head. "I won’t tell Buffy where you are. She… she deserves to put you behind her."

Sticking out his right hand, Spike nodded. "Then we’re agreed."

Willow shook his hand. "Agreed."

Chapter 7

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

"So, you’re just going to let them go, then?" Giles sounded irritated. "Are you certain that’s the thing to do?"

Buffy twisted the spiraling phone cord around her thumb. She could hear him fumbling over the receiver- probably cleaning his glasses, she thought. Laying back on her bed, she closed her eyes and smiled. Every time she spoke to Giles on the phone, she couldn’t help imagining the thousands of miles of land and ocean that separated him from being with her. But once in a while, he’d do something or say something that would remind her of the past, and suddenly it was as if he was sitting beside her. Cleaning his glasses was one of those things. She pictured him giving them a final, unnecessary wipe and resituating them on the bridge of his nose before she responded.

"If Spike gets to be Spike again, then yeah, it’s the thing. I’m waiting for him to wake up right now."

"Isn’t that a little… well, morally ambiguous?" he said delicately.
 

She sighed. "I dunno. Yeah, it is, I guess. Maybe a lot morally ambiguous. But I’m going to give Jonathan enough money so that he and Andrew can leave Warren behind, so they won’t be bullied by him anymore. And then I’m going to make sure they all go somewhere they’ll be… um… taken care of."

"Taken care of? How so?"

Buffy grinned and rolled over onto her stomach. Leaning on her elbows, she said, "I bought them three one-way bus tickets to LA. Non-refundable. And then I called Angel and let him know that they are on their way to his city."

"Ah," Giles said. "So, you’re releasing them for, what? The length of the bus ride to LA?"
 

"And however long it takes for Angel to drive across town to their hotel, yes. He’ll deal with Warren and keep a close eye or ten on the other two."

"So they won’t go free. But you’re still unhappy. I can hear it in your voice."

"I just… I don’t feel very victorious. I wanted… revenge, I guess. I still feel like Warren won."

"Well, in a way, he did. Warren was backed into a corner with one weapon left to use, and he used it. He’s human, not a demon, and he’s been in love. He knew you’d choose Spike over retribution. In this case, love was your weakness, just as love was Warren’s weakness in choosing Katrina as his first slave. Had he chosen someone he had no ties to, things might have worked out differently for him. He’d still be a criminal, but perhaps not a murderer. He saw the chink in your armor because it is a mirror of his own." Giles paused. Sounds rose in the background- a cupboard opening and closing. "That’s why fighting a human can be so much more dangerous than fighting a demon. Only another human could know that you would choose love- only another human would trust that to be a greater motivation than justice."

"So… you think I did wrong? Is this where the lecture starts? The one on how I must also put my sacred duty first? ‘Cause, I was thinking, maybe I could call you back tomorrow for that part. Or on Sunday, when the rates are cheaper."

"No, there’s no lecture." He fell silent for a long minute. Buffy could hear the sound of liquid being poured in the background. Finally, he sighed and said, "Just because you’re not the one who will be doing the punishing doesn’t mean he’s getting away with his crimes. Of course, that’s assuming that he is able to recover Spike’s… er… humanity ." He coughed, pointedly. "Spike… about that, Buffy…"

Buffy dropped her face into her comforter, stifling a groan. "I was wondering when you’d get to this part."

"Yes well, I’ve tried to avoid it, actually."

Frowning, she sat up. "I can actually hear you pacing, Giles. Is it really that bad?" Am I really that bad?, she wanted to ask, but couldn’t.

"I left you to make your own choices, Buffy. And you… well, you have. I can hardly sit here and judge you for them, now can I?"

"You’re not exactly not judging when you use that tone of voice, you know. The librarian voice. The ‘would you like a spot of tea to go with those crumpets’ voice."

"I know."

When he left it at that, Buffy bit her lip. "Well?" she asked, disguising the fear in her voice with impatience. "Is that all you’re going to say?"

"Do you… ahm. Do you love him? Truly?"

"That seems to be the question of the day. Weren’t you just telling me that I do? That my love for him was my weakness?"
 

"There are many different kinds of love. Warren could have picked up on… friendship love. Or pity love. What I’m asking, Buffy, is are you in love with Spike?"

"I don’t know. But honestly Giles, I think so. Otherwise Warren would be prison bait right now. But there’s so much I’m not sure of… so much I don’t understand. How I can feel like this for him, after everything he’s done, everything he is? It’s like… it’s like I love one person and I hate the other, but they just happen to live in the same body."

Another long silence passed. Buffy held on to the receiver tightly, waiting him out. Eventually, he said, "Ultimately, it is you who must live with the consequences of your actions, not me. If you’re asking for my stamp of approval on your relationship with Spike, I’m afraid I simply cannot give it to you. But… I will always give your happiness my blessing, Buffy. You know that. So, go and find it. Just be careful, you understand?"

"I’m… I’m understanding. In shock, yeah, but understanding."

"So then?"

"I still don’t know what I’m going to do. Nothing, I guess, not until I figure out what my feelings are and what to do with them all."

"You’ll do fine, Buffy. You always have," Giles said. She could almost feel the warmth of his reassuring smile across the phone line. "Now, go and make sure Warren isn’t burning down your home. I’ll phone you tomorrow and see how things went."

"Burning down my house? He better not be. On the other hand, I was just thinking about how "fire bad, tree pretty" sort of sums up how I’m feeling after the last few days. I’ve never been this tired, or this confused either. Maybe I need a vacation."

"Well, if you ever can get away, there’s always England. I know of at least one group of decrepit old men who’d love to meet up with the Slayer again."

Wrinkling her nose, Buffy stood and moved towards the door. "You’ve got a weird definition of the word vacation, Giles. Anyways, I’ve gotta go check on the prisoners, give them their bread and water and stuff. We’ll talk soon, okay?"

She stood up, preparing to tell Giles goodbye, when a knock came on her bedroom door. "Just a minute, Giles," she said, opening it.

Spike stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his duster. "Hello, cutie," he said in a strangled voice. He ducked his chin down in a futile attempt to conceal the wounds on his neck. "Got a minute?"

"Giles, I gotta go," she said, almost whispering with relief. She dropped the phone onto the base and motioned for Spike to come inside. "You’re… you’re you again."

"Appears so." Looking around her bedroom, Spike smirked. "Haven’t been in here for a while, pet." He gestured to the bed. "Nice pig."

Ignoring Mr. Gordo, she examined Spike. "How do you feel?"

With a wry smile, he touched his fingertips to his chest. "Better than I did when you tried to kick my ribcage inside out. A little tough on me, weren’t you? Even my bruises are whimpering."

"When the choice is hurting you or letting you hurt me, I choose hurting you," Buffy said, trying for a joke.

His face darkening, he nodded. "That’s the way of it, then."

"Huh? What’s going on? You look… stranger than normal. I guess that’s okay though, what with coming out of mind control and all. Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I thought it would take him longer to fix you and I had plans to make."

"Yeah well, me too." Spike walked slowly closer until he stood toe to toe with her. "Should we get right to it then?"

"Right to what?" Buffy asked, stepping back warily. He looked so changed, not just from exhaustion and injury, but in the way he held his body. He looked… faded. "What’s wrong with you?"

"Less than there was an hour ago," he said. He took a step closer, backing her against the wall. "Less than there’ll be an hour from now." His eyes burned with intensity as he brought his face towards hers. He brushed his lips over her forehead and cheekbones and down her neck, inhaling her scent. "Maybe."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. "You’re starting to freak me out. Knock it off, or I’ll knock it off for you," she said, raising her fist. "I don’t want to hurt you. Please don’t make me."

Her words struck into him harder than fists. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, Spike stared at her. "Buffy…" He held out his hand to her, knowing she wouldn’t take it.

"What is it?" she said, frustrated. She ignored his hand, but sat beside him. "Did Warren screw you up? What did he do?"

"Yeah, pet, Warren screwed me up. He screwed me up and screwed me over," Spike muttered, too low for Buffy to hear the words.

"What? I don’t get you. You were much easier to be with while you were monster-boy. More snarling, yeah, and there was the slight drool factor, but hey, at least I understood you. What is it you’re trying to tell me now?"

"Listen, pet… the details… they’re not important. I made a decision, and I wasn’t sure about it till I came in here and saw you, but… well, let’s just go with, you made up my mind for me." He carefully took off his duster, wincing as his arms brushed over his injuries. "I’m leaving now. Keep this for me, will you love?"

"You want me to keep your coat? Won’t you need it on the way home? It’s cold outside, in case you haven’t noticed."

Laying the jacket across her lap, he leaned into her. "The cold won’t bother me long." He ran his hands over her hair, letting his thumbs stray to her face to stroke her lower lip. She shivered beneath his touch, and swayed towards him, her hot breath stinging his skin. Pulling away, he stood up abruptly. "So long, Slayer," he said in a gravelly whisper as he limped out of the room.

Buffy let him go. She didn’t move from the bed, just listened to the thudding of his boots stomping down the stairs, to the sound of the front door shutting, and to… someone crying? Dawn. Dawn was crying. Crap, what’s up with her *now*? Was I that emotional at fifteen? God I hope not, Buffy thought. I want a shower and a nap so bad, but noooo, saving the town from Warren isn’t good enough. There’s always more to do. Spike’s pissy, Dawn’s upset… and there are three nerds downstairs to ship off to be someone else’s problem.

She started to rise, to go to her sister, but Dawn suddenly burst into the bedroom. "What’s wrong?" Buffy asked her, taking in her swollen eyes and red face. "Dawnie? Come and sit, talk to me."

"No!" Dawn shouted, standing in front of Buffy, her hands on her hips. "You just let him go! I can’t believe, after everything, that you just let him walk out of here!"

"Who, Warren? He’s gone? Xander was suppose to be watching him till it was time to take him to the bus station. His bus leaves in less than an hour."

With forced patience, Dawn gritted her teeth. "Not Warren. Spike. Spike is gone. How could you let him leave? Is this, like, the new house rule? Everyone I care about has to move away?"

"What are you talking about? Spike just went home. I know you’re worried about him- we all are, after what he’s been through. I mean, you should have heard him just now. It was like we were having two completely separate conversations at the same time. I couldn’t understand a word he said."

"Well, I could." Dawn grabbed the duster from Buffy’s lap. "Let me make it easier for you to understand. Spike gave you this ‘cause he’s gone. Like, really gone. For good."

"What? No, you’re wrong. Spike doesn’t leave. Remember? Not even when you want him to. Trust me, I’ve tried to make him go many, many times."

"Then why’d he give you the coat? He loves that coat."

She stared at Dawn, the truth slowly sinking in. "You’re sure he’s gone? Really, really, surely sure?"

"You don’t believe me? Ask Willow. She was there when he told me."

Buffy jumped up, taking the coat back from Dawn. "Where is he going?"

"L.A., to start with at least. I don’t know anything, as usual. Like I said, ask Willow. It’s probably her fault," Dawn said, shaking with anger. "Probably your fault too. Spike was the only one of you who treated me like I had a brain and now he’s gone. I hope you’re happy."

"Dawnie," Buffy said, reaching out to her sister. "I’m sorry. I didn’t understand what he was telling me… I just… I never expected him to leave. That’s the last thing I’d have thought he’d do. Don’t worry, though. I’ll just go get him back."

"You really think it’ll be that easy? Just a matter of saying, ‘hey Spike, c’mon back now just ‘cause I want you to’? I mean, don’t you think that if he left, he had a good reason to?"

"Maybe? I don’t know. This is… a pretty big surprise, okay? We… well, I guess we need to make a plan. Figure out what happened. Did Xander and Anya leave yet?"

"Yeah, about five minutes ago. They’re driving the super geeks to the bus station."

"Good. This’ll be a lot easier to talk about without them around." Buffy folded the duster over her arm and grabbed Dawn’s hand. "Come on. Let’s go find Willow. Maybe she knows more than we do."

"Well, she couldn’t know any less," Dawn muttered, rolling her eyes.

*******

"Let me get this straight, just one more time. You know Spike’s going to L.A., but that’s only his first stop. You don’t know where he’s going after that. You don’t know why." Buffy paced the floor in front of the couch where Willow, Tara, and Dawn sat. "You don’t know anything else."

"That’s right," Willow said firmly, nodding. Lying. "He… umm… he wasn’t big with the sharing when he woke up."

Buffy turned to Tara. "And you? Did he say anything to you?" she asked, letting her friend see a slice of how worried she was becoming. "A town… a name… anything?"

"N-n-nothing, Buffy. I’m sorry. I’m sure he’s okay though!" She leaned forwards, looking up at Buffy. "Maybe he decided that leaving town was the right thing to do. The… the noble thing. After… everything."

"No," Buffy said, rejecting the idea automatically. "Spike is a lot of things, but noble? I don’t think so."

"Besides, why would it be noble for him to leave just because Warren turned him into a puppy dog?" Dawn asked. "I mean, it’s not like Spike did anything wrong."

Buffy blushed. "There’s… other issues besides that one, Dawnie," she said quietly. "Private issues."

"Like you sleeping with Spike? I know about that one. Is that what you guys are talking about? You think Spike skipped town because he wanted to break up with Buffy and was too chicken to be a man about it?" She snorted. "Yeah, right. And I’m a M’Fashnik demon. That’d never happen. He’d never do that. He doesn’t want to hurt Buffy."

"I don’t think he was leaving to hurt her, Dawnie," Tara said, taking Buffy’s hand. "I think he was leaving to help her. She being the Slayer and him being a vampire and all. Maybe he decided to make it easy on you, Buffy. And… and maybe you should let him. Just let him go."

"Easier? That’s just a nice way to say he took all my choices away from me." She perched on the edge of the coffee table, her elbows resting on her knees. "God, do I just have a big, ole target on my forehead? Or… or an invisible sandwich board over my shoulders that says ‘Please, please abandon me?’." Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady herself. "I thought that… with Spike… at least there was one part of my life I had some control over. I was calling the shots with him, or… well, I thought I was. When I find him, he’s gonna really, really wish I hadn’t!"

"When you find him?" Willow repeated, standing up. "No, Buffy. Tara’s right. Just let him go."

"I can’t. God, I wish I could, but I can’t." Buffy whispered the words into her hands, rubbing them over her face despairingly. "I love him. I have to make sure he’s okay." Touching Dawn’s knee lightly, she said, "Will you be okay here with Willow for a few days? I don’t know how long it’ll take to find him, but hopefully not much longer than that. Guess my days at the Palace of hamburger hell are over with. They’re kind of funny about tending to fire people who don’t actually work."

"You shouldn’t do this," Willow said. She squeezed Buffy’s shoulder, her fingers tense. "Really, Buffy. It’s not smart."

Buffy covered Willow’s hand with her own. "Love isn’t brains," she said, remembering the day Spike had shown his William side to her with these words. "It’s blood, blood screaming inside you to work its will."

Tara, Dawn, and Willow gaped at Buffy, who shrugged. "A poet told me that once. Now I’ve got to go and prove to him that he was right."

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

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Angel asked. He sat in the driver’s seat of the DeSoto, his elbow resting on the open window. Looking at the enormous ship docked several feet away, he shook his head. "She won’t thank you for it."

"Yes, I’m sure, and I know she won’t thank me," Spike said, lifting a suitcase off of the backseat of the car and slamming the door. "But she’d thank me less if I stayed, mate. Trust me on that."

"You leaving Sunnydale is one thing. She’d deal with that fine, I’m sure, and it’s a good thing for her to have you out of her life. But you leaving without saying goodbye… without letting her say goodbye to you…"

"Good-bye is all she’s ever really said to me." Spike passed a set of keys through the window to Angel. "Here. One key to the ignition, one to the glove box, one to the boot. Sell it to someone who’ll appreciate it."

"You’re sure?" he repeated, giving Spike a hard stare. "When she called to ask if I’d seen you, she sounded miserable. Miserable enough to tell me you two had slept together. She’s worried about you. I hated lying to her."

"Glad your loyalty falls on your family first, then," Spike said. He eyed the mass of cargo containers that stood between himself and the ship. They’d be his berth until he reached the first port. Lighting a final cigarette, he said, "Now you understand why I’m not telling you where I’m going. Might as well send her a bloody telegram, otherwise."

"Why are you doing this? She’s the best chance you have, you know. A chance to change your life, to change yourself to someone better. It’s in her best interest that you’re leaving, but Spike, you’re only harming yourself."

"Consider it penance, then. Whatever you’d like. I don’t care." Taking a final puff on his cigarette, he flicked it towards Angel. Behind him, the ship’s horn sounded. It resonated through the darkness of the dock and into Spike’s bones. He shivered, wishing for his duster. For the warmth of his crypt and his Slayer’s body. For comfort. Angel’s words bit into him, making his painful leave-taking even worse that it already was. He had to make the bloody poof shut his mouth. "What’s it to you, anyways? You don’t want to help me, and you don’t want me near her. Must be your guilty conscience talking. You left her wanting you, like the sodding martyr you are, and now you’re all ashamed and wanting to make right the wrong you did her? Make her forgive you?" He snorted. "Fat bloody chance of that."

Angel looked down at his hands. "Think what you want."

Tossing his suitcase onto his shoulder, Spike turned toward the ship. He listened to the sputtering sound of the DeSoto’s engine starting as he walked away. One thing, he thought, stopping suddenly. One last thing to be done. Turning around, he shouted to Angel. "Peaches!"

Angel quickly rolled down the window. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Take care of my girl, you hear?" Walking backwards slowly, he scowled. "Not too close of care, though. You hear me? You understand?"

Rolling up the window slowly, Angel nodded.

Spike took Angel’s nod as a sign of acceptance and walked into the shadows surrounding the cargo containers.

Angel watched Spike disappear into the night. "I hear you," he said quietly, his broody eyes dark and guilt-ridden. "I understand you. But she won’t. She never did. And, my foolish childe, she’ll find you. No matter how far you go."