CHAPTER 8

: This Flight Tonight

Buffy stood in her doorway, squinting in the midday sunlight as Giles’ red sports car pulled into the driveway. He hopped out and trotted up the walk towards her.

"All ready to go, Buffy?"

"Yeah. My bags are in the foyer," she indicated.

Giles took one look at the volume of baggage and groaned. "You know, Buffy, we’re only going to be gone for two weeks, have you packed every item of clothing that you own?"

"Hardly," she said, picking up the first of the bags and heading for the car.

Once they were on the road to the airport, Buffy began yawning uncontrollably. Giles glanced at her questioningly. "Sorry, I just didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night," she said in answer to his look.

"Oh? Did you and Spike see a lot of action last night?"

"What?" Buffy exclaimed.

"On patrol. Was there a lot of demonic activity?"

"Oh. Oh. Yeah. Tons of that." Buffy exhaled, glad that Giles had to keep his eyes on the road and probably couldn’t see how furiously she was blushing.

They arrived at the airport without incident and soon were boarding the plane. Buffy sat next to the window and Giles, who immediately pulled out a book and started reading, sat next to her. Since Buffy had woken up with a start that morning, the hours had passed in a flurry of packing and preparation for the trip. She really hadn’t had the time to think about what had happened with Spike last night. Now, she could think of nothing else.

He had been right. It had been a lot more than nice. He did have over a hundred years of experience, she thought, trying not to think about the insane vampire with whom most of that experience had been. Or of Harmony. Or the robot. When it came to Spike’s sex life, pretty much every train of thought went somewhere that she really didn’t want to go. Well, Buffy, that’s what you get for taking up with another vampire. She flinched involuntarily. That was what really bothered her; had Riley been right? Was she attracted to a darkness that she couldn’t find in humans? First Angel, then that stupid thing with Dracula, now Spike. Spike had told her what seemed a lifetime ago (It was a lifetime ago, dummy, you died, remember?) that there was heat and desire between them. Maybe I’ve been attracted to him all along and I just couldn’t see it. She sighed, more confused than ever.

"You’re awfully quiet, Buffy. Is everything all right?"

She looked at Giles, smiling ruefully. "I’m just nervous about this council business," she replied. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, although the Watcher’s Council had been the furthest thing from her mind.

"Understandably. But I promise that I won’t let them hurt you. I wouldn’t even have encouraged you to go, but I really do think that this time they do have your best interests at heart. Well, and theirs too, of course. Besides, I thought a trip, a, a vacation, might be nice for you."

"Actually, yeah, it will. I do need some ... distance from everything going on in Sunnydale."

Giles looked away from her. "I feel guilty, leaving you and returning to England. I feel like I’ve abandoned you. It’s just that after I lost you," he said, swallowing hard, "I couldn’t stay in Sunnydale. I tried, for the others’ sake, but then Dawn moved in with your father, Spike stopped being overtly suicidal, and Willow and Xander both had someone in their lives to support them. I just needed to -"

"I know." She took his hand. "It’s OK."

"You were, you are, like a daughter to me, Buffy. Losing you was the hardest thing I ever faced. Harder than six apocalypses," he said, smiling an ironic smile.

Buffy put her arms around Giles’ neck and hugged him. "Thank you." She pulled away and looked him in the eye. "I’m happy for you and Olivia. I want you to be happy. So don’t you dare think of coming back to the Hellmouth," she scolded, "except to visit."

"All right. So, I didn’t have a chance to ask you, how is the training with Spike going?"

"Fine. Fine," she said quickly, breaking eye contact. "He was right, he knows my fighting style really well, and he’s able to point out the weaknesses in it. I’m making quick progress, I think."

"Good. I must say, he is a mystery to me."

"Yeah. He’s a mystery, all right."

--------------------------

Spike kissed her gently, tenderly touching her cheek. She looked up into his blue eyes as he moved above her in bed. She moaned with pleasure. "I love you," he said, and she closed her eyes, drowning in him. She opened her eyes, and looked into his yellow ones. She wanted him to consume her. He lowered his head to her neck and she felt his fangs rip into her skin. He drank...

Buffy started awake, instinctively reaching a hand up to her neck. Just a dream, she thought, her heartbeat slowing a little. She looked at Giles, who was sleeping as well, his head leaning over to one side and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth. Buffy unfastened her seat belt and gingerly climbed over him to go to the bathroom.

In the tiny airplane bathroom, she splashed cool water on her face, looking at herself in the mirror. This was not good, having these twisted sex-vampire dreams. She hadn’t had one of them since Angel, and she couldn’t say that she’d missed them. What have I done? she wondered. After everything I went through with Angel, after all the heartache and angst, I’ve gotten involved with Spike. Spike, who had a sex-bot made to look like her. Spike, who thought he could prove his love to her by chaining her up and staking Drusilla in front of her. Spike, whom, if he ever got that chip out of his brain, she might have to kill.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. She should stop comparing this ... thing with Spike to what she’d had with Angel. It’s not like she was in love with Spike. She’d just let her hormones get the better of her, that’s all. It had been a really long time since she’d been with anyone, and Spike had been there, all sexy and needy. It’s not like it had to happen again; in fact, it was almost certainly for the better if it didn’t. He was her training and patrolling partner, and sex complicated everything. Running her hands through her hair, Buffy exited the bathroom and headed back to her seat.

Maybe she was worrying about it for nothing. Wasn’t it all about the conquest for him anyway? Maybe by the time I get back to Sunnydale he will have completely lost interest in me, she thought, but deep down she seriously doubted it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

CHAPTER 9

The Return

She walked up to the door of the crypt, not sure whether the thing eating away at the bottom of her stomach was dread or excitement. After spending the last two weeks in London alternately berating herself for what she had allowed to happen, and madly daydreaming about it, she was a mass of confusion now. At the time she had been glad to escape the country before seeing Spike in the light of day (so to speak), but now it just made things more awkward. How was she supposed to act? How was he going to greet her, like his girlfriend or something? She shuddered to think of it.

I can’t do it, she thought. She turned around and started to walk away. Then stopped. Then turned again, and before she could talk herself out of it, she quickly walked up to the door and slammed it open, walking in with her head high.

He was sitting on the stone sarcophagus that she had more than once caught him doing his nails on, reading a book. Spike, reading? It reminded her of visiting Angel at the mansion three years ago; he often read during the day. But she quickly dropped that train of thought; comparing Spike with Angel was just too weird.

She watched him look up and see her, and a look of joy suffused his face. He dropped the book and leapt off the stone slab. Then he hesitated, and the joyous expression was replaced by one more guarded and nervous. He isn’t sure what to do either, she thought. It made her feel a bit more confident, but only a bit.

"Hey," she said.

"The Slayer returns from the council, triumphant, eh? At least, I assume triumphant? You don’t look any worse for the wear." He looked her up and down appraisingly, with just a hint of possessiveness in his gaze as his eyes raked over her. She blushed.

"Well, I suppose it’s triumphant. After much poking and prodding and tests and questions, they decided I’m not evil, so, uh, I’ve got that going for me," she said, trying to affect a Bill-Murray-in-Caddyshack accent on the last part but failing.

"What about the whole reason for your resurrection? Did the all-knowing council let you in on why you got a return ticket to our lovely little plane of existence?"

She hesitated. This was why she came, after all, to tell him about the prophecy which likely involved both of them. She was here on business, she reminded herself. "Kind of. I mean, in as vague a way as possible. They basically said the Powers sent me back to continue the fight, greater battles ahead, yadda yadda yadda."

"That’s it?" he queried incredulously.

"Not exactly, although that is pretty much it on the resurrection. To be honest, I don’t think they understand much more of the why’s and how’s of my being here, not the specifics anyway. They asked me a lot of questions about the last battle with Glory, and what made me do what I did, and why I thought it would work. Then they wanted to know if I remembered anything from, you know, being dead." She smirked. "I told them if I had, I would have gone on Oprah first." Spike chuckled at that.

"Anyway, like I said, they did a lot of tests, not just to measure my evil quotient, but also to see if I was still Slayer power girl. They pretty much came to the same conclusion we did: that the abilities are still there but much of the training is lost." She sighed.

"Did you tell them about your new training partner?" Again, he didn’t say it in a lewd way, exactly, but his voice carried just the slightest hint of innuendo. Buffy took a deep breath. She better tell him now.

"Actually, they asked me more questions about you than anything else. About the chip, about your behavior, how you helped with Glory, what exactly you did, how you took my death…" She smiled a small, sad smile, "which of course I could only tell them about second hand. How you behaved toward Dawn and the Scoobies after I was dead. How you acted when I returned. And when I told them about the training and the help with patrols, they were extremely interested. What exactly we were doing, what sort of training, all that."

"Guess they didn’t approve, huh?"

"That was the weird part, they were more, like, curious and excited. One of them practically fidgeted himself right off his seat."

"Any idea why?"

"Not at the time, but then I talked to Giles about it later. They had asked him a lot of the same questions, and were pretty much equally non-forthcoming. But he knows stuff from before, when the council still trusted him and kept him in the loop." She paused. "Apparently, there’s a prophesy."

"Oh, that’s just bleedin’ wonderful. A prophesy always gets the watcher’s knickers in a twist. What’s this one, then?"

"That’s just it, I don’t really know. But they think it’s about me, and, and you."

"Me, in a prophesy? What am I, bloody Angel or something?"

She winced. "Actually, I guess that’s who they thought it was about, originally. From what Giles remembers, and he never saw it in the original language, it involved something about a Slayer dying and being reborn, and a vampire fighting at her side. I guess a few years ago some of the watchers believed it referred to me being drowned by the Master, and to Angel. But too many things didn’t fit. Like did being revived by plain old CPR count as being ‘reborn,’ and, um, I guess some of the things about the vampire didn’t fit Angel, but I don’t know what exactly."

"Probably described the vamp as a manly stud or something, and…" Her glare stopped him. "Sorry," he grinned. "Do continue."

"Anyway, most of the watchers didn’t buy that it was about me. But now that I’ve been seriously reborn, they are reevaluating with the new evidence. Which has them extra curious about the new vamp in my life." New vamp in my life? Did I just say that? Shit! She cringed. "What I mean is, um, you know, you’re the vampire that’s around and, um, helping me," she finished lamely.

He grinned a little at her discomfort. "So what does the prophesy say? Are we two together going to save the world for puppies and little babies and all?"

"I don’t know! They of course won’t tell me. Or Giles. I assume it has something to do with these greater battles that I’m supposed to be back to fight… Anyway, I thought you should know, since it involves you." She glanced around nervously, unwilling to meet his eyes. Now that Spike was debriefed on the prophesy, she began to feel extremely aware of being alone with him for the first time since he had been in her bed.

After a long, agonizing moment, she finally asked, "So, what were you reading?"

He sighed with exasperation. "Dammit, Slayer, how long are you going to pretend like it didn’t happen? Cause I’m not sure how much of this I can take." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a slightly unsteady hand, leaning against the sarcophagus again.

"I’m not pretending it didn’t happen! I just, well, don’t really know what to say about it."

"Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something. It was a horrible mistake, worst of my life, something along those lines." He smirked at her, but his eyes were sad.

"Is that how you think I feel?"

"Isn’t it?"

"Geez, Spike, I’ve never known low self-esteem to be your problem." She softened. "But I don’t. Think that." He didn’t respond, so she kept talking nervously to fill the space. She started pacing this time, but kept her distance. "I mean, as wise decisions go, sleeping with you doesn’t really rank up there, but - but I can’t exactly regret it either." She turned to him and smiled. "Besides, those watchers can go on and on listening to themselves talk and it gave me plenty to daydream about while I pretended to be listening too." She felt her cheeks color, and was surprised at herself for that little admission.

He grinned, the joy from when she first walked in coming back into his eyes a little. He stubbed the cigarette and walked over to her. She was acutely aware of how close he stood to her, and when he touched her face, she felt herself shiver. "It’s pretty much all I’ve thought about every waking moment of the last two weeks, " he confessed. They stood that way a moment, then he leaned almost imperceptibly toward her. She longed to kiss him, but at the same time the fear came back full force. She backed away.

"I - I should really go." The disappointment was clear on his face, but he didn’t press it. She turned and walked slowly to the door. This was for the best, really. Letting him kiss her again would be a really, really bad idea. Much badness lay there. Kissing would lead to touching, and touching to… Images of what it would lead to washed over her. "Screw it, " she muttered, and whirling around, ran back to him. Their lips and bodies met in a rush, and they were kissing hungrily before she even realized she’d made a decision. She felt one of his hands entwine in her hair while the other pressed against the small of her back. His mouth pressed so hard against hers that it was almost painful. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled back from the kiss a little, running her tongue along his bottom lip seductively. He moaned and began placing a trail of kisses down her neck, causing her to gasp with pleasure. Suddenly he lifted her at the waist and put her on the stone sarcophagus, then pressed himself between her legs and went back to exploring her mouth with his tongue. She was drowning in him again, the desire making her dizzy. She hooked her ankles around his legs and felt his erection pressing against her. She could hardly bear it, she wanted him so badly - but a thought actually managed to insinuate itself into her consciousness.

She broke the kiss. "Someone might come in," she said breathlessly.

"No one bursts in here without knocking except you and a few demons who probably won’t be out and about in broad daylight." His hand had worked its way under her blouse, and he was touching her in ways that made it distinctly difficult to hold her thought. She persevered.

"What about Dawn?"

She had him there. He reluctantly disentwined himself from her, a look of naked longing in his eyes. "Fine, I’ll be good." Then he smiled seductively. "So what are your plans for tonight, my lady?"

"Actually, we were all going to do the Bronze thing, a little celebration for my triumphant return." She hesitated. "Do you want to come? With me?"

"I did, but you made us stop," he said, his innuendo becoming less subtle. She punched him playfully. He sobered. "Slayer, are you asking me on a date?"

She blushed for what seemed like the millionth time. "Well, I’m not exactly ready to share with the class, so no groping me in front of everyone… but I suppose it could have date-like qualities." She hopped down from the stone slab and headed for the door. "We’ll be there around eight."

"Eight it is then," he replied. Buffy walked quickly out into the sunlight, unaware of the idiotic grin that grew on the face of the vampire behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 10

Possession

When Buffy arrived at the Bronze, Willow and Tara had already staked out a table. They called Buffy over enthusiastically.

“Hooray, you made it!” Willow patted the seat next to her. “Ooh, nice outfit!”

Buffy looked down at her short skirt, embarrassed that she had changed her clothes with Spike partially in mind. “Well, I did have a little time to shop in London when I wasn’t being interrogated by watchers or following Giles around museums. Not that I minded the museums, actually. But you know how Giles can be.”

The girls nodded sympathetically. Buffy noticed right away that some of the weirdness had drained out of their interactions with her. I guess they no longer feel like they’re looking at a ghost, she thought, remembering Spike’s comment. “No sign of Anya and Xander yet?” Buffy asked.

Tara pointed onto the dance floor, where Xander and Anya appeared to be groping each other and arguing simultaneously. Buffy smiled and shook her head. “I weep for their children.”

“Oh, there’s Spike,” Willow said, glancing toward the door. Buffy jumped, then tried to look cool.

“Yeah, I, um, sort of invited him to join us,” Buffy commented. “You know, as a thank you for all the time he’s put in helping me get back into shape, uh, with the slaying,” she explained unnecessarily. She watched as Spike worked his way over to them. He always walked like a predator. Two years with that chip in his head and he still looked at humans like they were very much his prey. Or like she was.

“Evenin’ ducks,” Spike drawled, taking the seat next to Tara, and therefore putting a significant distance between himself and Buffy. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief; he was obviously respecting her wish to keep their encounter a secret for the time being.

“Hi, Spike, how’ve you been?” Willow asked, her voice warm. She had come to genuinely like Spike after Buffy died and she saw that his willingness to do good extended beyond a desire to impress Buffy, something she’d suspected since she saw the flowers with no card that he had brought after Joyce died. “I haven’t seen much of you the last two weeks. You been hiding out in that crypt all the time, or did Dawnie finally tie you up and give you that manicure she’s always talking about?”

Spike grinned. “Oh, you know, Red, I’ve been busy. This and that, here and there. My sexual fantasies about Buffy alone take up several hours of every day.” He winked, while Buffy spewed beer out of her mouth. OK, so he’s going to keep the secret, but not without yanking my chain about it, eh? Buffy thought. Fine. Two can play at that game.

“Oh, Spike, I’m sure Willow would love to hear your masterbatory chronicles, but really,” she deadpanned, glancing at her watch, “we only have a few hours.” Tara giggled and Willow looked at Buffy with raised eyebrows. Spike making lewd comments was par for the course, Buffy shooting back lewder comments in return was just weird.

Spike was also a bit surprised, but then he smiled and tipped an imaginary cap at Buffy. “Touché, Slayer.”

At that point, Xander and Anya joined them at the table, still having their argument. “Evil Dead, my man! Up for some pool? Please?”

Spike nodded and the two men headed toward the pool table. “Xander wanted to get away from me because we were arguing about the wedding. He wants to elope. He doesn’t understand that being surrounded by friends and wearing a big, beautiful dress while your friends are wearing poofy, ugly dresses is a basic feminine need,” Anya stated.

“We’re going to be wearing poofy, ugly dresses?” Willow asked.

“Don’t worry about Xander, he’ll come around. I didn’t come back from the dead so that he could run off to Las Vegas and get married without me witnessing it,” Buffy said, patting Anya’s knee.

“We’re going to be wearing poofy, ugly dresses?” Willow asked again.

The girls continued talking together while Spike trounced Xander at pool a couple of times. After a while they returned to the table, Spike carrying two beers, one of which he offered to Buffy. “Thanks,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Come on, An, let’s dance some more. I promise no more talk of eloping,” Xander said, kissing her cheek. Anya smiled, took her fiancé’s hand, and led him to the dance floor.

“Shall we?” Tara asked Willow, and they too went to join the dancing couples.

Buffy and Spike sat in silence for several minutes, watching the dancers. Finally, when the song changed, Spike downed the rest of his beer and held out his hand. “Shall we?” he asked.

She looked at his hand dumbly. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you think? Dance.”

“Oh! Oh. I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Come on, Slayer, I’m not going to shag you on the dance floor.” He grinned wickedly. “Unless you want me to.”

Now it was Buffy’s turn to roll her eyes. “Fine, let’s dance.” One dance, what harm can it be?

They moved onto the dance floor, surrounded by the pulsating beat of a Sarah McLachlan song. Buffy put her arms around Spike’s neck and he put his hands chastely on her waist, and with a conservative distance between their bodies, they began swaying to the music.

... voices trapped in yearning...

Buffy inhaled Spike’s scent. Cigarettes and leather, and faintly, blood.

..the night is my companion and solitude my guide...

Spike very gently moved his hands up so they were slightly beneath Buffy’s shirt. He caressed her bare, warm skin. They moved slightly closer to each other.

...and I would be the one to hold you down

kiss you so hard, I’ll take you breath away...

God, how does he do this to me? Buffy wondered, aware of every caress, and feeling a little drunk from the beer and Spike’s proximity.

..through this world I’ve stumbled, so many times betrayed...

Spike buried his face in her hair. She smelled of vanilla and autumn leaves and something that was uniquely her.

...you speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes...

Buffy began to relax a little, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes.

...my body aches to breathe your breath, your words keep me alive...

Spike pulled her closer, stroking her back and guiding her in the dance.

...and I would be the one to hold you down

kiss you so hard, I’ll take you breath away...

Images of the night they spent together flashed through Buffy’s mind. She pressed her body against his and absently stroked the back of his neck with her fingers.

...through this night I wander, it’s morning that I dread...

Spike longed to be alone with her. He had imagined making love to her again about a million times in the last two weeks. He kissed her head gently.

...into the sea of waking dreams, I follow without pride

cause nothing stands between us here and I won’t be denied...

“Uh, guys?”

Buffy was jolted from her reverie by Xander’s voice. She jumped out of Spike’s embrace quickly, glancing guiltily at Xander. The song that had seduced them was ending and another song started up.

Xander offered his hand to Buffy. “May I have this dance?”

She took his hand and let him lead her away from Spike. As they started to dance, she observed that Spike and Anya had started to dance with each other.

“So what was that about?”

“Huh?” Buffy looked innocently at her friend.

“The close dancing with Spike. I thought I’d have to pry you apart with a crowbar.”

“Oh, um, it was nothing. You know, the song...” She trailed off.

“Yeah, Sarah McLachlan can get you in the mood for lovin’. Just be careful; I’m fairly certain Spike is still into you.”

“Me too,” Buffy whispered.

“What?”

“I said, I’ll be careful.”

----------------------

When everyone parted ways outside the Bronze at the end of the evening, Spike and Buffy were left standing together. “Walk you home?” he asked.

“OK.”

They walked in silence for a while. Finally Spike spoke. “So did the council keep you busy every day, or did you actually get to play tourist at all?”

“Giles took me around to see some of the London sights. Big Ben, Parliament, Harrod’s -“

“Horrid’s, we used to call it. It’s a tourist trap.”

“Yeah. And we spent an exhausting day at the British Museum.”

“Hey, now, that’s a great museum. The British Empire did a lot of work pillaging other cultures to fill that museum.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Actually, Giles made an excellent tour guide; he pointed out which of the relics have magical properties and which ones were actually made by demons and stuff. Definitely not part of the regular tour. But it was still exhausting.” They had arrived at her door. “This is my stop,” Buffy said.

Spike pulled her into a long, languorous kiss that left her weak-kneed and with her heart racing. Which he can easily hear, she reminded herself. “Um, Dawn’s home, so I don’t -“

“We’ll be quiet,” he whispered into her ear.

“I don’t know,” she said, torn between her desire and common sense. She knew it wasn’t a good idea getting deeper into this with Spike.

He kissed her again, then gave her his most seductive grin. “Well, I can understand if you think you won’t be able to control yourself. Wouldn’t do for li’l sis to hear you screaming my name.”

She arched an eyebrow, then went to whisper in his ear: “When I get finished with you, you’ll be the one screaming,” she said. He growled and pushed her against the door for another kiss that she felt all the way down to her shoes. She opened the door and they both went inside.

Later, she lay in bed with him spooned around her, his fingers tracing up and down her arm. That’s one nice thing about him being dead, she thought, no body heat to interfere with snuggling afterwards. They had both been quiet, but it had definitely been a challenge. She figured it was a good thing he had accelerated healing capabilities; the scratches on his back and her teeth marks in his shoulder would probably be gone by morning. She smiled, and gradually, fell into a satisfied slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 11: Help Me

The next morning she woke alone. He had ducked out to beat the dawn again, she guessed. She shambled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she bathed, her mind went back to the frustration she had felt with the answer the Council had given her about the reason she was sent back from the dead. You weren’t meant to die that day. There are great battles ahead against the coming darkness, and you are needed in those battles. Clearly, the Powers That Be saw that and brought you, one of their warriors, back from the netherworld. She wished she could know more. Then she remembered.

Towel around her hair, she dashed back to her room and started rooting around in her purse. Not finding what she was looking for, she finally upended the purse onto the bed and pawed through the contents. Finally, her fingers closed around a small, white business card.

-------------------

She banged open the crypt door, unwilling to break with tradition. Spike was sleeping on the couch, the television on. She flipped off the TV and poked him. “Spike. Spike! Wake up!”

He looked at her sleepily. “Couldn’t stay away, eh?”

She ignored him. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say, you?” he said, sitting up and grinning lasciviously at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Wanna go with me to L.A.?”

-----------------------

The door to Caritas was below street level. Buffy and Spike went down the stairs and came upon a bouncer who eyed the couple suspiciously. Spike immediately shifted into game face, put his arm around Buffy’s waist, and nuzzled her neck. The bouncer let them pass. Spike shook his game face off as Buffy eyed him suspiciously. “Why’d you do that?”

“This is a demon bar, pet. They don’t usually like a whole lot of humans crashing the party. Especially not -“

“The Slayer! Well, if it isn’t Buffy Summers herself!” A green-faced demon in a fashionable, if extremely loud, blue suit was approaching them as they hesitated in the doorway. On the large stage which dominated the room, a particularly ugly demon woman was belting out Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman.”

“You know me?” Buffy asked, staring at the demon in the blue suit.

“Are you kidding? I’ve seen the inside of Angel-pie’s noggin too many times not to know you. And you,” he said, looking at the peroxide-blonde vampire at her side, “must therefore be Spike. Traded in your fangs to be the Slayer’s lap-dog, that’s the line about you ‘round these parts. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he insisted, holding up his hands when Spike moved toward him menacingly. “It’s a valid lifestyle choice. Now ordinarily I wouldn’t want a Slayer in here,” he said, looking around. “Makes the customers nervous. But in your case, I’ll make an exception,” he said, smoothly leading them to a table in the corner of the room.

“Here’s the way it works, if Angel didn’t explain it to you. Which he probably didn’t, being the man of annoyingly few words that he is. You sing,” he said, pointing to the stage, “ I read you. Your aura.”

Buffy looked nonplussed. “Angel didn’t say anything about singing.” Then she was struck with a realization. “You mean ... he sings? Here?” When Lorne nodded, she burst into laughter. It took her a while to regain control of herself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just ... I heard him sing once. He’s terrible!”

“You’re preachin’ to the choir, sister. Anyway, when you’re ready, just go right over there and pick yourself a song.” With that, he hopped on stage and introduced the next act, a couple of obviously drunk vampires who launched into a rendition of “You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling.” Lorne went over to the demon woman who had just butchered Aretha and spoke with her for several minutes.

“I don’t know about this,” Buffy said doubtfully as Spike flagged a waiter and ordered a couple of beers.

“Aw, come on, luv, it won’t be so bad.”

“Fine, then you do it.”

“No fuckin’ way. ‘Sides, we’re here for your enlightenment, remember?”

“That’s just as well,” she said, “I bet you’re a worse singer than Angel anyway. I should be glad you aren’t going to assault my ears.”

“I’ll have you know - You know what? Fine. You win.” He walked over and started angrily flipping through the karaoke choices. She sat back and waited, a self-satisfied smile on her face. He’d probably choose the Ramones or the Clash or some punk crap like that, she thought.

Finally, the drunk vamps stumbled off stage and Lorne went up to the mike. “That was great, guys. Weren’t they a hoot? Next we have William, who’s gonna grace us with a little of the Boss.” Lorne exited the stage and took Spike’s seat next to Buffy.

Spike stepped up to the mike, winked at Buffy, and launched into a passable rendition of “Born to Run.”

“Whoa!” said Lorne, looking askance at Buffy. “Well, don’t worry, hon, Angel won’t hear it from these lips.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and your pet vamp there. And your little bedtime activities,” he added when she continued to stare at him blankly.

Buffy’s eyes widened and she looked at the demon, horrified. “You can see that?”

“Well, he’s devoting a hell of a lot of psychic energy to it, so, yeah. In living color, with Dolby digital surround sound,” Lorne said, looking at her in a way that made Buffy feel naked. She flushed and looked away. Lorne chuckled. “You know, I thought I’d met the only vampire on the planet in love with the Slayer. But here’s another. You must be some lady.”

They watched the rest of the performance in silence. It wasn’t bad, Buffy admitted grudgingly to herself.

Baby this town rips the bones from your back

It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap

We gotta get out while we're young

`Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run

“Why don’t you follow him. Go pick yourself a song, Miss Summers. Go ahead, it’s easier than it looks, once you get started.” Buffy shrugged and went over to the list, while Lorne mounted the stage again and began skillfully bantering with the audience. She flipped through the pages listlessly for a while til she came to one that caught her eye. It was one of her mom’s favorites, and seemed strangely appropriate, although she was afraid Spike might read too much into it. Oh, what the hell, she thought.

“Well, looks like our next performer is ready to go,” Lorne said, checking the monitor that displayed the lyrics. “The Chosen One herself is here to mellow us out a little with a personal favorite of mine by Joni Mitchell. Come on up, Buffy,” he invited, leading the audience in applause.

Buffy hesitantly approached the microphone. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought. I’d kill Angel if he weren’t dead already. The music started, and Buffy started singing, fixing her eyes on the back wall of the club.

Help me

I think I'm falling

In love again

When I get that crazy feeling, I know

I'm in trouble again

I'm in trouble

'Cause you're a rambler and a gambler

And a sweet-talking-ladies man

And you love your lovin'

But not like you love your freedom

Help me

I think I'm falling

In love too fast

It's got me hoping for the future

And worrying about the past

'Cause I've seen some hot hot blazes

Come down to smoke and ash

We love our lovin'

But not like we love our freedom

Didn't it feel good

We were sitting there talking

Or lying there not talking

Didn't it feel good

You dance with the lady

With the hole in her stocking

Didn't it feel good

Didn't it feel good

Help me

I think I'm falling

In love with you

Are you going to let me go there by myself

That's such a lonely thing to do

Both of us flirting around

Flirting and flirting

Hurting too

We love our lovin'

But not like we love our freedom

By the time she finished she had lost herself in the song, transported back to a simpler time, in the kitchen with her mom, singing along to Joni. She was surprised when a wave of applause hit her and she was jolted back to the present. Lorne was taking the mike out of her hand.

“Wasn’t she super? Wow, too bad there’s only one Slayer in every generation; we could get a real girl group together. Anyhoo, please welcome our next performer, a Parasite demon with a penchant for Journey.”

Buffy reseated herself at their table and found Spike looking at her curiously. “What? Was I that bad?”

“No! No, Slayer, you were ... really good, actually. I’m impressed.” It felt like his eyes were boring into her soul. She looked down and took a swallow of her beer.

“Thanks. You were good too.”

“OK, kids, time for the moment of truth.” Lorne grabbed a chair from an adjacent table and turned it around backwards, straddling it as he faced them across the table. He looked back and forth from one to the other before his eyes came to rest on Buffy. “You want to know why the Powers sent you back. Why you’re alive.”

“Yeah, basically.”

“It’s not an answer you’ll like. As I see it, you’ve spent over five years of your life fighting every evil that gets tossed your way. This guy, for instance,” he said, cocking his thumb at Spike. “You’ve fought and you’ve bled and you’ve sacrificed. You sacrificed your childhood, you sacrificed Angel, and you were supposed to sacrifice your sister. That was the way it was supposed to go down. But you sacrificed yourself instead. Not in the Powers’ game plan. So they did the only thing they could do. They broke the rules, jerked you out of heaven, and sent you back to this world. Just be thankful you don’t remember being in heaven; that would make this a lot harder, I expect.”

Buffy was surprised at that; she wasn’t sure she’d believed in heaven. “But why did the Powers need to bring me back at all?”

“The apocalypse, of course. And I know what you’re thinking, you’ve already been there, done that when it comes to apocalypses, right? But this is different. This is a war, a war between good and evil the likes of which the universe has never seen. And without you, good would’ve been at a decided disadvantage.” Lorne shook his head. “You know, the more people I meet who have reserved front row seats for Armageddon, the more I just want to run as far and as fast as I can away from you. First Angel and his crew, and now you two. And yes, I said you two. You’re part of this too, William. And not just as the Slayer’s boy toy. You’ve got a part to play in this, but as to what that part is, as the immortal Magic Eight Ball says, ‘Ask Again Later’.”

“When will it happen?” Buffy asked, shaking slightly.

“If I knew that, I’d know how long a lease I should sign on this place,” he said, laughing. “I’m not sure if even the Powers know the answer to that question.”

Buffy stood awkwardly. “I’m going to the bathroom. Then we can go.” She fled the table.

Lorne sighed. “I knew she wouldn’t like that answer.” He fixed Spike with his gaze, his voice turning uncharacteristically hard. “You’ve got a hard road ahead of you, vampire. Harder even than your grandsire and his long road to redemption. You walk a fine line between the light and the dark, and you do it with no soul to guide you, nothing but your love for that woman. When I say I don’t know what part you have to play, I mean I don’t know which side you’re going to be on. And I’ve got a hunch that a lot may depend on which side you’re on.” He stood slowly. “You remember that, OK, William? You two have a good night,” he said, walking away from the table, thinking for about the hundredth time that sometimes a little information was way too much for his peace of mind.

Chapter 12: Girl Talk

As the next few days passed, Buffy tried to put all thought of what she had learned at Caritas out her mind. She tried to remember what Spike had told her: all you can do is live each day the way you want to live it and fight the battles you have to fight. It was good advice; Armageddon wasn’t here yet, and until it was, it wasn’t going to do her any good to lose sleep over it. So she focused on the immediate things in her life, which as it turned out, were primarily training with Spike, patrolling with Spike, and having sex with Spike. Her resolve to stop things before she got in any deeper had completely melted. They made out like bandits in the magic shop training room when they were supposed to be working on her fighting skills. They ducked into his crypt for a quickie on the sarcophagus when they were supposed to be patrolling. If Buffy had stopped to think about it, she probably would’ve realized that she was happier and more relaxed than she’d been in a long time. But she was resolutely not thinking about the relationship she was developing with her former arch nemesis.

On the fourth morning after the trip to L.A., Buffy awoke early and decided to make herself a decent breakfast for once: eggs, toast, coffee, the works. She didn’t have anywhere she needed to be for a few hours, Dawn was at school, and Buffy was reveling in the quiet, empty house when the doorbell rang.

"Oh, for -" Cursing under her breath, she went down the hallway and opened the door. Willow stood on the doorstep, looking a little guilty.

"Oh, Willow! Hi! What’s up?"

"Oh, good, I was afraid you’d be sleeping in and that I was going to wake you," Willow said, smiling at her friend.

"Nope, not sleeping. Making breakfast, actually. Wanna join me?" Buffy said, standing back to let Willow into the house.

"Sure! That’d be great. I had half a Pop Tart this morning."

"Breakfast of champions," Buffy joked, heading to the kitchen in front of Willow. "What brings you here?"

"Well, my 9:30 was cancelled, and I thought ... well, I just haven’t seen you in a few days and, and I guess I missed you." She smiled. "I know you’ve been really busy, doing the training and all, and I think that’s really important. I know how much you want to be back to your old self. But I just decided, screw that, I’m going to go force myself on Buffy; to hell with her training," she said, then stopped, looking perplexed. "I didn’t mean force myself on you in a sex way, just -"

Buffy laughed and took Willow’s hand. "I know what you meant. I’ve been spending so much time training and patrolling and ... doing other stuff that I’ve neglected my best friend. I’m sorry." Buffy pulled Willow into a hug. "I guess it isn’t the first time. One of these days you’re going to get fed up with me once and for all."

Willow pulled out of the hug and looked at Buffy. "Never. I’ll always stand by you."

They hugged again, then Buffy went back to cooking breakfast while Willow ground coffee beans and searched through the cabinet for a filter. "So what are you doing with yourself now that you don’t have to go on patrol anymore?" Buffy asked.

"Studying a lot, actually. As a chemistry major, junior year is a bitch. P-Chem is killing me. Which reminds me," Willow said, turning to Buffy. "I know it’s early still and things are a little crazy; I mean, you’ve been back from England for like, a week, and back from the dead for only about six weeks, but ... have you thought about coming back to school?"

Buffy busied herself with putting scrambled eggs and toast on plates. "I have, but ... I’m not sure if I can afford it, to be honest. I’m using the money from Mom’s life insurance to pay for the house and other basic necessities, and Dad gives us money, but there really isn’t much left over for college."

"How are things going with your Dad?" They sat down together at the kitchen table and began digging into breakfast.

"He’s still trying to deal with the story we gave him about me being kidnapped by terrorists and my death being a snafu at the morgue. The last time I saw him he tried to set me up with a psychiatrist to deal with my ‘possible Patty Hearst issues’. But other than that, things are OK. I think he’s relieved not to be directly responsible for Dawn anymore."

"Well, have you talked to him about college? Maybe he’s got some money stashed away," Willow suggested.

Buffy shrugged. "Maybe. I’m thinking about selling the house, but I’m nervous about uprooting Dawn from her home. Hell, I’ll be honest, I don’t particularly want to be uprooted from my home either, when it gets right down to it. So I’m actually starting to think about looking for a job, although not having any ordinary skills is a problem. Funny thing, no listing for vampire slayers in the want ads."

"Well," Willow mused, sipping her coffee, "maybe you could join the circus and do feats of strength. Or … ooh! Maybe you could teach self-defense! That would be cool, and it totally overlaps with your skill set."

"You know, that’s not a bad idea. The self-defense, not the circus," she clarified.

They ate for a while in silence, then Willow spoke up. "Did I tell you that Xander asked me to be his ‘best person’ at the wedding?"

"No! Congrats, Will! So he decided to bend the wedding gender roles, huh?"

"Well, I guess when he realized the best male candidate was Spike, he threw the idea of a best man out the window. It wouldn’t have worked anyway; they plan to get married outside and in the afternoon, and Anya pointed out that Spike bursting into flames would distract attention from her dress." Willow laughed at the image that conjured. "Anyway, I’m excited."

"You should be. You get to hold the ring, plus you get to arrange the bachelor party with the strippers."

"Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think Xander will want strippers?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "This is Xander we’re talking about."

Willow giggled. "You’re right."

"How are things going with you and Tara?" Buffy asked, changing the subject.

"OK. She’s glad that I’m not doing much slaying anymore. She worried a lot when I was patrolling almost every other night, and it made things tense between us." Willow sighed. "She still doesn’t approve of some of the avenues of magic that I’m investigating. We argue about it sometimes. But I guess that’s just the way relationships are, you know?"

"Yeah, hmm, I do vaguely recall being in a relationship, and I do seem to remember there was arguing."

Willow touched Buffy’s arm. "You’ll meet someone again, Buffy. I know you will." Willow picked up her plate and took it to sink. "So how goes the training with Spike? I figured you would’ve gotten sick of him and staked him by now."

Willow’s segue made Buffy flinch, and she began entertaining the idea of telling Willow the truth about her and Spike. A part of her really wanted to. It would be nice to share with her best friend what was going on in her life, like she used to. But she was really afraid of Willow’s disapproval. Even though she knew Willow liked Spike, whether that would extend to approval of Buffy sleeping with him was something else again. She squirmed in her chair. "No, I … I haven’t gotten sick of him." She jumped up from her seat, carried her plate to the sink, and began washing it a little too vigorously.

"So he’s a good teacher?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he really is. We, uh, work well together." She flushed and scrubbed the plate harder.

"Well, good. I know it’s probably been tough for you, getting used to Spike as a full-fledged Scooby. But after you died -"

"I know. Dawn explained." Still scrubbing.

"Anyway, I’m glad you’re OK with it, and that you two get along now, and … Buffy? I think that plate is clean."

Buffy set down the plate, her hands shaking slightly. She kept her eyes focused on the sink. "I’m sleeping with him."

"You - huh?"

She turned and forced herself to look Willow in the eye. "I’m sleeping with Spike."

"Oh! Wow. Oh. OK. I think I need to sit." Willow went back over to her seat at the table and Buffy joined her. "When, uh …"

"The night before I left for England," Buffy said, taking a nervous sip of her lukewarm coffee. She got up to get the pot and topped off her mug and Willow’s. "We were here after patrolling, just talking, and … well, we kind of ended up kissing. And, well, that led to … other stuff. Sex, actually."

"Oh." Willow digested that. "And then when you came back? Oh! At the Bronze! You guys were dancing all close and stuff, and Xander went to save you cause he thought Spike was putting the moves on you, which I guess he was, but then I suppose you were letting him." Willow wound down. "And you guys are still, uh, you know, boinking?"

Buffy looked down at the table. "Yeah."

"Wow." She swallowed some of her coffee. "I guess in retrospect I had noticed you were spending a lot of time together, but I figured that was just business."

"It was, at first. But we talked a lot on patrol, and when we were training. I guess we got sort of close. But if you want a detailed analysis of what I was thinking, or what I’ve been thinking since, I can’t really provide it. There hasn’t been a lot of thinking going on. I’ve just kind of been letting things happen. Which I know isn’t smart," she said, looking at Willow.

"What, are you waiting for me to shake my finger at you and say, ‘Bad Buffy’? I’m not going to do that. You’re a grown up, you can have sex with who you want to." She thought for a second. "As long as this is what you want," she added. "Are you happy?"

And Buffy thought about this for the first time. And smiled. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Well, then, you go, girl!" Willow said, smiling. "Wow, Spike must be ecstatic. I’m surprised he’s been able to keep it to himself."

"Actually, I’m surprised too. But I wasn’t really ready to tell anyone, and I guess he respects that. I’m still not ready to tell anyone else, I don’t think. I mean, you can tell Tara if you want, but I don’t think I can deal with Xander’s disapproval just yet."

Willow made a zipping motion across her lips and smiled. "So, how’s Spike in bed?" Then her eyes widened and she blushed. "No, forget I asked that."

Buffy laughed. "No, it’s OK. He’s … God, Willow." It was her turn to blush. "He’s pretty amazing. The sex is, well, it’s better than it’s been with anyone."

"Really. You know, I always wanted to ask this about Angel, but things turned so bad so fast with him that it was never appropriate," Willow said. "Isn’t the lack of body heat, um, disconcerting?"

"A little. But sometimes it’s kinda nice, like the cool side of your pillow."

"I guess I get that." Willow smirked. "Have you done it in the crypt?"

Buffy groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Once. When we were patrolling. It was one of those, ‘I must have you, here, now’ kind of moments."

"What about the training room?"

"No. Although Anya’s almost caught us kissing a couple of times." Buffy gave Willow a measured look. "You’re really OK with this?"

"I don’t know. It’s weird, and a little twisted, and may lead to badness, but … he’s clearly making you happy. You’re beaming right now. So I suppose I’m tentatively OK with it. I reserve the right to stop being OK with it later on if he hurts you in any way."

"Thanks, Willow." They hugged.

Willow looked at her watch. "I better go, I’m supposed to meet some people for a study session soon. Thanks for breakfast. I really enjoyed our talk. Although I must say I got more than I bargained for."

"Yeah."

Willow started out of the kitchen, then turned back. "Buffy," she said, then hesitated. "Do you love him?"

Buffy fidgeted a little under Willow’s gaze. "I - I care about him a lot…" She trailed off.

"Hmm. Maybe I’m worrying about the wrong person getting hurt." And with that, she left, Buffy staring after her.

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