Secrets and Lies by angelic_amy

Chapter #1 - Apprehension.

Disclaimer: This story is inspired by and contains characters from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," a series that is wholly the intellectual property of Mutant Enemy, Twentieth Century Fox and Joss Whedon. This story is written without permission, with no intent of infringement or expectation of profit. I am not making any money from this! This fiction presented is for private sharing only. The author's owns nothing of the actual show. No commercial and/or trade purpose is intended to infringe the copyrights registered by official parties. A/N: This is a Bloodshedverse challenge response. Details of the challenge will be posted at the completion of the story. Secrets and Lies Chapter 1: Apprehension. “Please remain seated until the seatbelt sign has been switched off. We thank you for flying British Airways and we hope you enjoy your stay.” Buffy sighed as the plane came to a stop at the terminal and the crew began preparing for dis-embarkment, zoning out as the flight attendant finished her little speech. She hadn’t thought she would find herself here, especially not now. The bright sun shone through the porthole windows of the aircraft, promising a beautiful day in Southern California. They have sun back home as well… She rolled her eyes. Okay… so maybe not much, but it’s not that long a trip over to Rome. Unfastening her seatbelt she stood up and began gathering her belongings from the overhead locker. A small carry bag contained her required clothing for the few days she would be in town, toiletries, and some paperwork that she hoped to get through during her down time. This was a pretty simple mission, something that she would not normally have bothered dealing with personally. In fact she had at first outright refused to accept when Giles had informed her of the location. LA meant Angel and she really did not want to deal with him right now. He was not the same person she knew anymore. He’s not a person… a little voice in her head pointed out. The Angel she knew would not have taken the keys to a multi-national corporation, that’s function was to aid the seedy LA underbelly, both human and not, in dealing with their legal issues. The Angel she knew, fought for the little people, he helped the helpless. This new Angel was CEO of the LA branch of Wolfram and Hart. His clients consisted of the vampires, demons and every day bad guys, which Buffy fought to stop. So seeing Angel right now, not high on her list of happy things to do. This transformation was also something that Giles was not too impressed with either. Had the case been of another nature they might have just left it to deal with by Angel and his multi million-dollar corporation. But this involved one of their own. A slayer. One they had not expected. Ever since that spell of Willow’s on the Hellmouth the old gang had been rounding up the newly called slayers and bringing them back to London where the Watchers Council was slowly being rebuilt. With Giles at the head of command things were operating in a completely different manner to which things used to be run. The first call of business had been to set up the New Watchers Council headquarters. Giles had deemed it necessary to have housing for the girls, so the offices themselves were a part of an old Catholic School that had been left to disrepair. With Xander’s knowledge and expertise, the school had been renovated, with separate wings for the offices, training areas and dormitories. The central feature, which happened to be Giles’s pride and joy, was the new library. The girls were assigned rooms and duties to complete alongside their training and schooling. Giles was determined that the girls receive a proper education alongside their slayer schooling. So all of the girls had to complete their A Levels according to the British Schooling system. This also gave the school an acceptable cover. It was a select, private school for girls. Families were no longer shut out of the equation. With Willow’s help they were bringing more and more girls to the school each week. Whilst they did take the girls away from their families, the lines of contact were kept open. The school even had a small wing kept aside for when family members dropped by. While the girls were ‘outed’ to their families, slaying itself was still kept as secretive as possible. Therefore the weapons storage was kept concealed from prying eyes, including most of the girls. With state of the art surveillance and a glamour spell by Willow, the location was kept hidden. Any weapons that were needed for training purposes were retrieved by the instructors. As the number of girls had amassed it had become apparent that more Watchers were going to be required. Andrew and Robin Wood were currently completing their training. The Council Operatives and Watchers who survived the explosion of the old building joined the two of them. Along with those that had escaped death at the hand of the bringers, they were now well on the way to rebuilding the Council. A passenger behind Buffy bumped her with their bag, waking her from her reverie. Walking swiftly down the aisle she quickly left the plane and moved through the gangway and into the terminal, breathing a sigh of relief when she pushed out from the crowd exiting the aircraft, and into the mass of people wandering through LAX. This should be fun… she thought wryly. Adjusting her watch from London time to LA she caught a glimpse of the scarring on the underside of her left palm. Her shoulders tensed as the memories flooded back, flashing through her mind. She closed her eyes, allowing herself five seconds to let them wash over her before clearing her mind. She opened her eyes again, only to look immediately at her hand again. She reached with her right, running her fingers over the scarred flesh, the sensation causing shivers to roll up her spine. Pushing the thoughts and feelings away, she continued her hurried movement through the airport. Now was not the time to get distracted. Now if only she could find the… “Miss Summers?” Spinning around at the sound of her name Buffy found herself looking down on a black suited, short, portly, dark haired yet balding man whom she estimated to be in his mid 40’s, holding a cardboard sign with her name printed neatly on it. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be shorter than me,” she commented with a half smile. The small man smiled brightly, extending a hand towards her. “Jacob Morton. I’m to be your driver during your stay in LA.” “Driver?” “Yes Miss,” Jacob acknowledged with a nod. “Mr Angel has requested that I take you back to the firm immediately for a debriefing. After that I will be driving you to your accommodation for the duration of your stay.” “Oh he did, did he?” Buffy muttered under her breath, before continuing a little louder. “Thank you Mr Morton.” “Oh please, call me Morty. Or Jacob if you’d prefer. Everyone knows me as Morty.” A broad smile stretched across his weathered face. “Mr Morton makes me feel like and old man.” Buffy smiled. “Morty it is then. Shall we?” “Of course. Do you have any baggage for collection?” he asked politely. Buffy lifted her duffel in show. “This is it.” “Please I insist,” he asked as he took the bag from her. “Now follow me.” Buffy followed Morty through the throngs of people and out towards the taxi strip, leading her towards a limousine. Angel seems to take advantage of the perks of his job… she thought with an appraising look. “Mr Angel has demanded only the best shall be at your dismissal Miss Summers,” Morty explained when he caught her surprise stare. “Please Morty, call me Buffy.” Her duffel was stowed in the trunk of the limousine before Morty opened a door and helped her inside. Moments later the car pulled away from the curb and Buffy was on her way to Wolfram and Hart. ~~~ Spike paced across the small expanse of the excuse for a dwelling and retrieved the bottle of whiskey from the counter-top. He was sore from his three-storey fall care of his little encounter with Little Miss Chops-A-Lot last night. But mostly it was just his ego that was suffering. He took a deep swig from the bottle, the amber liquid burning a trail down his throat before settling warmly in his stomach. “You should have waited,” Angel mumbled. “Hey keep your knickers on. Least now I know what we’re dealing with. It’s a Chinese demon. Maybe a water dragon, or one of those elemental thingies.” How wrong had he been? The girl wasn’t possessed by a demon, she was a vampire slayer. A psychotic vampire slayer at that. After Angel had filled him in on that little tidbit he had shot right out of there. Spike, William the Bloody, The Big Bad, had run at the mention of the word slayer. Cursing his reaction to Angel’s bombshell, he drank another deep swig of the liquor, reveling in the fact that he was getting good and proper sloshed. All someone had to do was mention that word, slayer, and he was lost, drowning in long past memories. Not of the two he had killed, not that they weren’t memorable, but that wasn’t what he was lost to right now. Memories of golden hair, sun kissed skin, those big beautiful eyes, and the fist that would accompany anytime he had dared to stare longer than permitted. No. He was dreaming of his slayer. The woman he had sacrificed his life for, the woman he loved with every fiber of his being. His Buffy. Except she wasn’t exactly his, she wasn’t ever really his. A fist balled and before he even realized what he was doing it was sailing towards the wall beside him. Bone connected with brick and his knuckles split open, blood running down his fingers before dripping to the floor. That’s gonna stain… It hurt but he reveled in the pain, pouring some of the whiskey on it to further exacerbate it. The stinging sensation soon faded however and all he was left with was split knuckles, blood and whiskey stained carpet, and the beginnings of a tremendous hangover. Not a man to ever leave a job half done, he guzzled more of the alcoholic beverage until he was suitably lacquered. Collapsing onto the worn old sofa clutching at his half empty bottle Spike let the memories wash over him. The feel of her lips grazing his skin, the glide of her sweat drenched skin as it slid over his, the way her hair bounced when she rode him into oblivion. It haunted him… she haunted him. He remembered their battles, the way she moved with the grace of a panther when she was pounding her fists into him, the way she quipped in the face of certain death yet somehow managed to surpass it. And he remembered her kindness, how she had rescued him from the minions of the first, how she had taken care of him when the chip threatened to fry his brain, and how she had clutched to his hand, not wanting to let him go when the Hellmouth was caving in upon them. That last thought jarred him from his daydreaming, and he lifted his right hand, staring at the scar that marred his hand. As a vampire there were seldom few wounds that were inflicted upon him that didn’t heal completely. The scarring on his hand was one of them. He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that when he had been brought back to like, he had been incorporeal. So with no actual physical body, he had none of his vampiric healing abilities. But it was just a thought, a possibility. It was not something he had shared. Fred had noticed it on one of his many hauntings of her, before he become corporeal. She had offered to cook up a treatment to remove the scarring once he became solid again, but he had flatly refused. It was the only tangible proof of her that he had, and he wasn’t going to get rid of it for the un-life of him. “Buffy…” he murmured as he let himself become lost in dreams of his Goldilocks. ~~~ Angel paced the length of his office as he waited for news of her arrival, not exactly sure what to expect. She was here in LA. Buffy… was in LA. And he was nervous. They hadn’t spoken since that night in Sunnydale, a day before the Hellmouth literally ate the town. The reunion had been brief but reminiscent of their past. When she had kissed him he had been surprised, but secretly pleased. His feelings for her may have dampened but they had in no way extinguished. Buffy was still the most incredible woman he had ever met. And she was here. “Angel I have Mr Morton on line two for you.” Startled by the intrusion into his thoughts by Harmony’s voice, Angel moved over to his desk and pressed the intercom button on the telephone. “Thanks.” Picking up the receiver he pressed on line two. “This is Angel.” The cheerful voice of the driver responded, alerting Angel of their progress. “Mr Angel it’s Morty. Just ringing to inform you that I have Miss Summers and we are on our way to the office as requested.” “Thank you Morty.” Angel replied quickly. With that he replaced the receiver in its cradle, ending the call. She was on her way. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you like guys! Please send your reviews.

Chapter #2 - Straight to Business.

Chapter 2: Straight to Business. Buffy examined her palm again, paying no attention to the streets and buildings that whizzed past her window as they drove through downtown LA. Tracing the lines of the scar she found herself slipping into her thoughts again. The noise of the electric screen sliding down to reveal her driver broke through the haze before she managed to slip in too deep. “We’re almost there Miss Buffy,” Morty informed his passenger. Buffy nodded in response and a moment later the visor was back up again. However before she could lose herself to her thoughts again, a beeping noise sounded from her person, a vibration tickling her hip. Unclasping her pager she reviewed the message. Missing you already. J. Guilt washed over her when she realized that she had not thought about him once since she had left London. Banishing thoughts of the deceased, Buffy promised herself to call as soon as she arrived at her hotel room after the debriefing. ~~~ “Are we all clear?” Angel questioned as his gaze scanned his key team, Buffy’s arrival imminent, he had gathered Fred, Wesley, Gunn and Lorne in the boardroom of his office in preparation. Fred looked around the room at the other members of the old Angel Investigations crew. She saw similar apprehension reflected in each set of eyes, which bolstered her confidence when she finally spoke up. “Are you sure it’s best to keep Spike out of the loop like this?” she asked. Angel’s expression was impassive, which was unsettling. She continued. “Before he was corporeal all he ever talked about was returning to Buffy, and now that she is going to be here…” Fred trailed off, looking to Wes for back up. “I agree with Fred,” Wes affirmed simply. “But for different reasons. I understand your hesitation to include Spike in this meeting, but what about Buffy? If she were to find out about Spike’s presence here I’m sure that --" “She wont find out,” Angel interrupted curtly. “Because no one is going to tell her.” Lorne frowned in disappointment. He knew that Angel still carried a flame for the slayer, but that didn’t give him the right to decide what she did about Spike. Judging from his readings of the vampire in question to the many conversations he had with him before he became corporeal, it was blindingly obvious that Spike was still very much in love with Buffy. To hide this from him… well, Lorne didn’t even want to consider the ramifications. “Angel-cakes we know you’re not a fan of bleached wonder, but he does love Buffy. We all know how desperate he was to return to her before he became meaty again,” Lorne pointed out. “If you hide this from him and he finds out --” “He won’t,” Angel interrupted for the second time. “Spike will be on assignment for the duration of Buffy’s stay.” “Assignment?” Fred repeated. “Given the history between the two of you I don’t think he’s going to willingly go on assignment if it’s anything that you want him to do.” “Yeah.” Gunn snorted, slipping out of his legalese for a moment. “He’d sooner do the opposite to piss you off.” “That’s why the case will come from one of you.” Angel said bluntly. The room was stunned into silence. It was one thing for Angel to hide information from Spike, but using them as co-conspirators? “Good,” Angel decided abruptly. “You can sort that out amongst yourselves.” “What happens if he shows up whilst we’re in a meeting with Buffy?” Wesley questioned. “I already have that under control. Harmony has volunteered to assist in distracting him if required.” “I’ll bet,” Fred muttered under her breath. The blond vampire had not hid the fact that she and Spike had once dated, and Fred knew for a fact that Harmony was lonely. She would jump at the chance for any male company, especially that of the Spike shaped variety. ~~~ The car pulled up in the sub-basement car park of the law firm much too soon for Buffy’s liking. Why Andrew couldn’t take this assignment was beyond her. It was just a retrieval mission; it wasn’t like he had never taken on a task like this before. The pick-up has never been psychotic and mentally disturbed before… Cursing Andrew for pulling out when he was informed the particulars of the case, Buffy began to wonder why Giles hadn’t just sent Xander and Faith. Or even Kennedy for that matter. Why did it have to be her? It wasn’t as if she couldn’t have covered Faith’s classes, and on last check there were no construction-based tasks that needed immediate attention. And it wasn’t like Kennedy would be missed all that much if she were gone, even by Willow. It seemed those two weren’t working out as well as they had been when they had first begun dating. Kennedy had let the slaying go a little to her head, and she was still as bratty as she had been before she was called. Except now she was more inclined to use force when demonstrating a point. Buffy had never really like the girl, and had always thought that Willow could do better for herself. It now seemed like Willow was starting to come to that realization as well. “We’re here Miss Buffy,” Morty’s voice sounded through the intercom. “Thank you,”’ she replied. A few moments later the door was opened and she was being led towards an elevator. Morty selected the appropriate floor before stepping back. “You’re not coming?” Buffy inquired. Morty shook his head. “I have a few errands to run for Mr Angel before I return to deliver you to your hotel.” With a polite nod and a bright smile, Morty turned away and walked back to the limo. The doors to the elevators slid closed, appropriately annoying elevator music the only noise in the small capsule as it lifted skywards. The trip was too short for her liking, moments later the doors sliding open. Taking a deep breath Buffy stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. So this is Wolfram and Hart… she thought as she looked around. The lobby was vast, with wood paneled walls and lush carpet. A staircase to her right lifted up to another level, which overlooked the lobby. Walking further into the room she saw brief cased suit wearing lawyers, a pair of people that she guessed to be scientists dressed in lab coats moving towards one corner of the room, and an older man pushing a mail cart from room to room. Her eyes floated the room, sizing up the occupants and scanning for possible weapons, exits, hiding places. She couldn’t help herself. This place just screamed evil, and she found herself scanning it before she even realized what she was doing. A cursory look thrown over her shoulder in the direction of the elevators brought a big surprise when her eyes fell on a large demon carrying a pair of daggers in it’s clawed hands. The creature was large, at least two feet taller than her, and covered from head to toe in long tan coloured fur. Thinking about it for a moment, she noted that it kind of looked liked Chewbacca. Oh dear god I’ve been spending FAR too much time with Andrew… She pushed the thoughts away when a tingling sensation at the back of her neck identified the beast before her as a threat. Trusting her instincts Buffy approached the demon. “Hey!” she called. “Pretty blades you got there,” she pointed at the knives in question. The hairy beast’s mouth curled up in a snarl, a series of clicking and growling noises emanating from deep within it’s gullet. Buffy titled her head to the side. “I’m sorry, didn’t quite catch that. In English please?” The beast growled again and took a step towards her, arms waving out at its side. Taking the movement as threatening, Buffy jumped into action. Flipping onto the staircase she landed and then launched a roundhouse kick at the beast’s head. It snapped to the side quickly, one of the blades clattering to the ground. “Drop the other one,” she demanded. The creature began waving the blade in a defensive slashing motion out in front of itself. Seeing as he wasn’t going to listen, Buffy figured she would have to remove it from him. Grabbing fistfuls of the creature’s mane, she pulled with all of her strength, and threw the beast towards a wall. A loud crashing noise sounded throughout the room, and everyone in the vicinity stopped moving, awestruck by the small young woman who had just thrown a demon that was likely four times her weight halfway across the room. The noise also garnered the attention of Angel’s secretary. “Oh crap!” Dialing the number for the boardroom, Harmony tapped her long fingernails on the countertop. She was not going to be the one to try and stop the slayer. “Harmony… I’m in a meeting right now.” Angel’s gruff voice came through the speaker. “Ah Angel, just thought you should know that Buffy has arrived.” “Well send her in.” “Well you see, she’s kinda beating up one of the gofers right now.” The line went dead and moments later the door to the boardroom flung open, and Angel walked out followed by the others. Buffy was currently straddling the large beast, throwing punch after punch into its face. “Drop it!” she demanded. “Damn!” Gunn whistled as he watched the slayer pound on the creature. “Buffy…” Angel called as he walked over to her. Buffy stopped half way fist mid air and ready to strike again. “Angel. Did you know this beast here was just walking around with knives and no one did anything about it?” Angel shook his head, chuckling. “What?” Buffy asked slowly as she lifted herself up, snatching the knife away in the process. “He works here. He’s a gofer for the people in the weapons department,” Angel informed. Buffy blinked once, before looking back at the creature. “Sorry!” she apologized wide eyed, bending over to offer it a hand up which it rejected, shying away from her in fear. “Oops!” she said as she turned back to Angel, only just realizing that they had an audience. A tall bald headed black man, a green demon wearing a very loud suit and a pretty brunette. The only face that she recognized was Wesley’s. “Wes!” “Buffy,” Wesley greeted warmly. Stepping forward she embraced the former Watcher, pleased that she knew at least one other face. “Hi I’m Fred,” the pretty brunette introduced, embracing Buffy in a friendly hug before she had the chance to step away. “I’ve heard so much about you.” “Really?” Buffy asked as she shot a look at Angel who just smiled in return. “Oh all good, I promise,” Fred nodded. “Wesley has informed me of all your adventures back in Sunnydale.” Buffy snickered as memories of the Wes of old surfaced in her mind. “Well if you ever want to hear stories about him from back in the day, you know where to find me.” “Charles Gunn,” he shot a hand out for her to shake. “It’s a pleasure,” Buffy replied as she accepted his hand, shaking it firmly. “Tight grasp you’ve got there.” Gunn appraised. He looked around the room, noting the gaping hole in the wall where Buffy had thrown the beast, and the broken plaster which was strewn all over the floor. “Wouldn’t want to bump into you in a dark alley.” Buffy ducked her head shyly, embarrassed that she had attacked first without asking questions. This is an evil law firm… it makes sense they’d have demons on staff. “Well aren’t you just the cutest little ball of sunshine I ever laid eyes on.” Dragging her eyes from the floor Buffy found herself swamped in the warm embrace of the green demon. Bewildered by all of the attention Buffy returned the hug before quickly stepping back. “Your suit is…” “Loud?” Gunn offered with a grin. “Believe you me, bright colours are all the rage this season,” Lorne announced with another bright grin. “I’m Lorne, I work in out entertainment division.” “I never would have guessed,” Buffy said with a wry smile. Lorne laughed. “Well little lady, I’ve got clients to shmooz and sea breezes a calling my name from the bar. So I’d best be off. If you ever want a reading you know who to holler for.” Buffy frowned as Lorne strolled off. “Reading?” “Lorne is an empath demon. He can read a person’s future,” Fred filled in. “Cool.” Buffy said brightly. “You have to sing,” Gunn added. “What?” Buffy blinked. “Sing? Me? Why?” Fred giggled. “That’s how Lorne reads you. When you sing.” “Oh.” Buffy said. “OH…” Guess I won’t be getting my fortune read anytime soon. “Shall we get down to business?” Angel intervened once introductions had been made. “Sure.” Buffy said quietly, avoiding his gaze. The people who worked for Angel seemed nice. Really nice. She didn’t understand how people like that could be seduced into working in a place that had a reputation for being the middle men in every apocalyptic battle in the last three centuries. Possibly even longer. When Giles had been informed of Angel’s move from the Hyperion to the W&H downtown offices, he had began a vast amount of research into their history. It wasn’t pretty. Known for supporting human sacrifices and making deals with devils from several dimensions, they weren’t the sort of people that Giles would want Buffy, or any of the slayers for that matter, doing business with. So when reports of this rogue slayer had made their way to London, Giles had deemed it necessary to find and transport her back to England as soon as possible. “The last thing we need is a slayer working for Wolfram and Hart,” he had said. “Harmony, hold all my calls,” Angel instructed as he swept past his receptionist headed for the boardroom. “Harmony?” Buffy repeated incredulously. “As in Harmony Kendal?” “The one and only,” the blonde replied as she stood up at her desk. “Hello Buffy.” Buffy’s gaze narrowed and she took a threatening step towards the desk, the vampire visibly flinching backwards. “Down girl,” Gunn laughed. “Harmony isn’t a threat.” “Yeah.” Harmony nodded vigorously. The last thing she needed or wanted was a brassed off slayer on her case. “I work for the good guys now,” she added brightly. “Isn’t a threat?” Buffy mocked. “Works for the good guys now?” She laughed but her body language was tense, her expression closed off. “I still haven’t forgotten how you tried to kill my sister.” Harmony laughed nervously. “About that, I’m really sorry. But I don’t feed off humans anymore.” For demonstration she picked up her thermos and shook it around. “I’m on otter now.” “She doesn’t feed off humans, none of the staff do,” Wesley assured. “We conduct random blood tests all the time.” “She’s clean,” Fred added. Buffy’s posture relaxed somewhat, but her expression was still as hard as ever. “If she tries anything…” “She won’t,” Angel interrupted briskly. “Now can we get on to business?” Without waiting for a response Angel opened the doors he stood before and walked inside. “Business it is,” Buffy muttered as she followed. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Wasn't going to post up chapter two so quickly, so count yourselves lucky! Hope you guys are liking it so far, more will be up on Thursday/Friday.

Chapter #3 - Haze.

Chapter 3: Haze. The pounding reverberated through his head like someone was slamming a sledgehammer into his skull over and over again. He groaned when it didn’t stop, an eye peeling open as he woke from the peaceful unconsciousness that had claimed him several hours ago. It had been a long time since he had drank that much, he’d almost forgotten how bad the resulting hangover would be. But not anymore, it was back with a vengeance, making itself known. He strained his other eye open, finding himself staring up at the cracked ceiling. Recognizing the roof as that of his small living room, he forced himself into a seated position. The movement caused the empty whiskey bottle to fall from his hand and skitter across the carpet. It became apparent that the pounding noise was in fact coming from the door to his apartment, not from within his head. Clutching at his aching cranium he stumbled towards the door, cursing as he fiddled with the locks. “Keep your bloody knickers on, I’m coming.” There could only be one person who would be bashing on his door, no one else knew where he was holed up these days. “Doyle,” he growled. “It’s too bloody early for payin’ visits. What do you want?” The dark haired man stepped into the apartment, the resonating fumes from the alcohol swimming around the vampire in a haze. Waving his hand in front of his nose as he stepped into the apartment, he spotted the evidence of what appeared to have been an all night bender. “You weren’t out last night. I thought you understood that as a champion you have a duty to the people.” Spike kicked the door shut with his boot, wincing when it slammed shut. “I was a little busy, right?” “So I can see.” He looked pointedly at the whiskey bottle. “What set off this little drinking spree?” “Nothin’,” Spike replied gruffly, walking to the refrigerator and removing a packet of O+, his face shifting into it’s vampiric form as he sunk his canines into the plastic and suckled the ambrosia from within the bag. His companion turned away whilst the vampire fed, the slurping noises the only noise in the room. A minute or so later the slurping stopped and the empty blood bag was tossed in the trash. “Nothing,” the Texan repeated now that the vampire’s attention was no longer occupied with his feeding. “So this wouldn’t be about…” He took a stab in the dark. “…a girl?” A snarl was Spike’s only response. “Ok. So it’s about a girl. Does the reason for your hangover have a name?” An eyebrow rose curiously. Spike considered ignoring Doyle, but that never seemed to work in the past. If he answered a couple of questions, he might be able to get the guy out of his apartment so that he could sleep off the rest of his hangover. “Buffy,” he muttered. “Buffy. Interesting name.” “Watch your mouth,” Spike snapped. “Didn’t mean to offend,” he replied with two arms raised in surrender. “It’s just that it’s not a name that you hear too often. There was a slayer a couple of years back named Buffy.” Spike’s shoulders tensed immediately, and he whirled on Doyle, his jaw ticking in anger. “Still is the slayer.” Eyes widened. “Your Buffy is the slayer Buffy? Well I’ll be.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Didn’t Angel have a thing with her?” Spike growled in response, stalking angrily towards his bedroom and throwing the door open. He removed his leather duster, throwing it on the bed as he kicked off his boots. “You have a point for this little visit cos I’m not in the mood for guessin’ games.” “No, I suppose you wouldn’t be,” came the response from the other room. “Was just stopping by to make sure our champion was still among the living.” “Well now you know,” Spike replied through his T-shirt as he ripped it over his head and tossed it on the floor with his socks. “So this Buffy… she as gorgeous as they say she was?” “Is,” Spike replied instantaneously. “And yes. Gorgeous.” “And you were in love with her?” Always will be… “There a point to you stickin’ your nose in my business?” Spike asked as he walked back out into the living room still clad in his black jeans. “Just curious. Can’t a mate ask a couple of questions?” Spike lifted an eyebrow in response. “Right. Gotcha. Buffy is off limits.” The two men stood staring at each other for a moment before Spike finally broke the silence. “I’m takin’ a shower and gonna sleep off this hangover before I head out on patrol tonight.” “Good to know you’re still in the game.” With a polite nod he turned for the door. Spike frowned, calling out to him before he left. “How’d you know about the slayer?” Smiling, he replied, “It’s my job.” With that the Texan opened the door and left, closing it quietly behind him. Whilst Spike’s heart could have allowed him to drift off into dreams of his golden goddess, his head was demanding rest. And before rest he was going to take a shower. Peeling off his jeans and throwing them on the pile, he padded into the bathroom and twisted the taps. Moments later he was under the stream of hot water, his head leaning against the cool tile as he tried to drown out the distant memories of the woman who now only lived in his dreams. ~~~ Lindsay flipped open his cell phone the moment he walked out of Spike’s apartment. It rang a few times before it answered, a smile creeping across his face when he heard her voice. “Baby, it’s done,” he confided with a smile. “You were right. All I had to do was mention the Slayer’s name.” “Excellent,” came Eve’s reply. Lindsay could hear the pleasure his news brought in her voice and he imagined the smile that would grace her face. The Senior Partners would not be pleased if they knew what she had planned, or if they found out that she was in cohorts with Lindsay. He was on their most wanted list, the magical tattoos which adorned his skin and walls of his apartment the only thing keeping his location and presence secret. “Now all we have to do is arrange it so that they ‘accidentally’ bump into each other and we’ll get this ball rolling.” “That can be arranged.” ~~~ “We’ve organized a retrieval team to head out tonight and track her down.” Angel finished the short presentation. Buffy flipped through the file in her hands that contained eyewitness accounts of encounters with the missing slayer, surveillance photos from the camera equipped locations she had been seen at, and the report from the operative who had run into the disturbed woman two nights prior. By the sounds of it, the guy was lucky. If he had been human, the fall from the multi-level warehouse would have killed him. “That won’t be necessary,” Buffy finally responded when she dropped the weighty file on the large boardroom table. “I’ll head out on patrol this evening, track her down. Your file has given me a few good starting points.” “Buffy,” Angel countered. “The mental health of this girl isn’t stable. She could see you as a threat and attack you and I’m not willing to take that risk.” Buffy pursed her lips in annoyance. It seemed things never changed. Even after all this time, Angel was still trying to protect her. When she was a teenager she had found it endearing, but now as an adult, it just pissed her off. “Angel, if I could handle myself against Faith, then I don’t think a newbie to the game is going to be an issue.” “Faith?” Gunn interrupted. “She helped us out with the beast last year.” Buffy didn’t respond immediately as she tried to word it as delicately as possible. “Faith wasn’t always such a good Samaritan.” “Quite right,” Wesley agreed. “If memory serves me correctly, she has not only tried to kill you and Angel several times, but she also worked for the Mayor of Sunnydale at one point.” “The Mayor?” Fred repeated. “That isn’t a good thing?” “The Mayor turned himself into a big snake and tried to eat everyone,” Buffy supplied. “Oh.” Gunn and Fred shared surprised looks. Wesley and Angel had neglected to fill them in on the more colourful aspects of Faith’s past when she had helped them out last year. “This girl is different from Faith.” Angel’s tone was businesslike as he tried to direct the conversation back on track. “Sending out a team is procedure and --” “Procedure?” Buffy repeated with a quirked brow. “And since when have I ever followed procedure? Giles tried to make me conform for years and he never --” “Buffy,” Angel insisted. “This isn’t a debate. You will have back up for this.” Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and pout like the teenager he was treating her as, Buffy shrugged her shoulders. It wasn’t like it would take her much to shake off the backup anyway if she really tried… “Alright,” she agreed. “But I want to speak to the operative mentioned in this report before I head out tonight.” With wide eyes Fred was the first one to respond. “Why would you need to do that?” “A verbal recount will tell me more than this piece of paper,” Buffy replied as she lifted and then immediately dropped the file she had been perusing. “That won’t be possible,” Angel said coolly. Buffy looked at the faces of the people seated around the table, noting the discomfort in not only their gazes but also in their body language. “And why is that?” “He’s out on a case,” Fred blurted out, her cheeks tinting pink when she realized how rushed that had come out. “An interstate case,” Gunn added when he saw Fred’s look of panic, thankful that Buffy had been focusing her attention on Angel at that point. “Right,” Buffy sighed in frustration. She picked up the file again, perusing the report one last time in an attempt to gain more information. Looking at the bottom she noticed that not only was it unsigned as she had expected it to be, but the operative’s name had not been noted. “Who did you say it was that had a run in with her?” “I didn’t,” Angel responded. Right… Buffy thought to herself. Is it just me or does it seem like something’s being hidden here? “Okay then, I should probably be heading out,” Buffy announced as she stood from her seat. “I’ve got some things I need to take care of before tonight.” Angel nodded his approval and that very action caused Buffy to bristle with annoyance. It’s just a couple of days… you can survive a couple of days… Buffy exited the boardroom as swiftly as she could manage, shooting a glare in Harmony’s direction when the vampire dared to smirk at her as she moved through the atrium. “Buffy, wait!” She turned at the female voice, her expression softening slightly when she identified the speaker as Fred. “Was there something you needed?” Buffy asked. “No,” Fred responded. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.” At Buffy’s frown she continued. “I know that Angel has organized a place for you to stay but if you needed someone to talk to, or hang out with…” she trailed off, leaving the invitation hanging. “Thanks.” Fred returned the smile. “Well, good. I should probably be heading to the lab. I’ve got work to do.” “That’s right. Willow told me you were the brains of this operation.” “That’s awful sweet of her but I’m just the science nerd,” Fred said with a deprecating smile. “Wesley is the real brain around here. Anyway, I should probably get back to work. It was nice to finally meet you, Buffy.” “You too.” Buffy smiled as the bouncy brunette turned towards where she presumed the lab was located. Stepping into the lift, Buffy pressed the button for the underground car park. A second later the lift was descending and she let out a relieved sigh, her shoulders relaxing with the knowledge that in a few moments she would be out of the W&H offices. The doors chimed as they opened and Buffy was surprised to see Morty’s car in the lot, the driver leaning up against it. “Shall I take you to your hotel, Miss Buffy?” he asked with a dip of his hat when he noticed her arrival. With a nod Buffy entered the limo via the backdoor and slid across the black leather. She could do with a rest before heading out on patrol, and that’s exactly what she intended on doing. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Sorry for the delay guys! Hope you all like, send me your thoughts.

Chapter #4 - Shadowing.

A/N: Thanks to the wonderful Megan for betaing. Chapter 4: Shadowing. Spike slid his black leather duster over his shoulders, hugging his frame like a second skin as it wrapped around his body. If there was one thing about his resurrection from being burned alive, that he was thankful for, it was that his jacket survived the ride. It was as much a part of who he was as was his penchant for bleaching his hair. Disappearing into the sewers via the basement access of his building, he trudged through the tube system, glad that his route was dry. Not that the smell was really an issue for someone who didn’t need to breath, but he really wasn’t in the mood for having to clean sewer mulch from his boots. He wasn’t really in the mood for doing anything at the moment; he would have much preferred to lose himself at the bottom of another bottle of whiskey. But he knew that if he avoided his ‘responsibilities’ for a second night in a row, his guide—and he used the term loosely—would up his hounding. Which is why he was headed for a discreet little demon bar a few blocks from his apartment to meet up with said guide. But the biggest motivator was Buffy. Thinking of her, dreaming of her… that’s all he bloody did these days. Fighting the good fight that he’d once mocked Angel for, kept his mind occupied and allowed him to take out his frustrations physically upon the vampires that trolled the LA streets by night. It also made him feel closer to her even though they were oceans apart, because he knew that it was likely that each night she was out doing exactly what he did, ridding the world of evil. That tentative if ambiguous link was sometimes all that kept him sane. To be back from the dusty dead and no longer an apparition but flesh and bone, yet not be with her… almost killed him every night. All it would take was a phone call, just to hear her voice would make the pain of the separation go away. At first it had been forced, his connection to the amulet prohibiting any movement outside of LA. What stopped him now, was himself. He had died for her, given her the world so that she may continue to live in it. How could he ever outdo that? Turning up now would cheapen his gift, his sacrifice. Buffy had told him that she loved him in those final moments on the Hellmouth, and although he had denied her proclamation he had believed every word. There was no denying the emotion, the conviction he saw in her eyes and that was when he realized what he had to do. He had to let her go. Spike knew that he wasn’t making it out of the Hellmouth alive and if he had accepted her gift of love, returned the expression, then she might not have gotten out of there in time. That was just who Buffy was. She was someone who risked her life for the one’s she loved. She loved him. Which meant more to him than anything. The only thing more important than knowing that; was making sure she lived. So he had rejected her. With a smirk and a typical by character remark, he had welcomed his imminent death with the knowledge that she cared. And now he was back amongst the living and she was on the other side of the world. Kicking at a soda can that lay on the sewer floor, he made his way towards the ladder that led to his meeting point with Doyle. It was time to do something useful. ~~~ Angel rode the elevator to his private quarters deep in thought. Buffy had been less than impressed by his insistence of back up for the patrol session tonight and if he knew anything about the Slayer, it was that she was stubborn. Yet she had backed down almost immediately. Cursing under his breath, he realized that she probably planned on ditching the escort team the moment she hit the streets, that is if she returned to the office at all. Stepping out of the elevator and into his apartment, he picked up the nearest telephone and dialed down to the armory. A moment later the line picked up. “Weapons department, this is Lucas,” the technician identified. “Lucas, when the Slayer returns for weapons pick up this evening, I want you to make sure she is given the stun gun with the imbedded microchip in it.” Lucas gulped when he recognized the caller as the head honcho Mr. Angel. “Yes sir, of course,” he nodded, even though he knew he couldn’t be seen. “What if she disposes of her weapon?” Angel was silent for a moment before finally responding, “If you can place a tracker on her person with out detection, do so.” The technician nodded once more, gulping again at the thought of getting his face punched in by the Slayer. He had heard the stories about what she had done earlier on in the day to the gofer and he didn’t want to contemplate what she might do to him if he wasn’t discrete while attempting to plant the bug on her. He was terrified of the Slayer but he was more afraid of suffering the wrath of his boss. “Yes sir.” Getting the response he wanted, Angel disconnected the call. Buffy’s behaviour towards him had been cool and he didn’t think it was just because of his requirements for patrol this evening. She was almost wary of him and he didn’t know why. He knew that Rupert Giles was less than impressed with his current position and he could only assume that that played a hand in her reaction towards him this evening. Padding over to the large windows he stared at the rapidly setting sun, once again thankful for the necro-tempered glass of the building. Sunset was not a sight he as a vampire should be witnessing, at least not without the burning to death aspect. His thoughts went to his son as the golden rays began to disappear beyond the horizon, the horizon that he had once hoped to bathe in. The Shanshu Prophecy had been all that kept him going on those hard months when he had first left Sunnydale, left Buffy. But now he wasn’t even sure if he believed in it anymore. In a little under an hour, Buffy would be returning. Turning away from the window, Angel moved towards the bathroom to shower. As always, he wanted to be presentable for her arrival. ~~~ Buffy exited the hotel once more, finding herself greeted by Morty’s cheerful smile. With a brief hello she was guided to her door and helped inside, the car in motion moments later when Morty slipped into the driver’s seat. Once more Buffy was driven through the streets of downtown LA as they made their way to the Wolfram and Hart offices. At first it had been strange, having someone drive her all over town. She almost felt like a celebrity, except without the fame and the money and the nice shoes… Now she barely even noticed it anymore. It came with the package of being in LA, another one of Angel’s little attempts to control her. She sighed as her mind wandered to her activities of the day. Her afternoon had been distraction free, allowing her to concentrate on completing some paperwork. So absorbed in her work she had almost lost track of the time. She had planned on calling Giles and giving him an update regarding her meeting with Angel and his crew. And she still had to call Juan as well. Another pang of guilt washed over her and she promised herself that she would do so once she returned to her hotel room after her patrol; there just wasn’t the time now for either phone call. Dressing in black leggings, a form fitting red singlet and her trainers she had made her way downstairs, but not before the irony of her outfit colour choice became apparent when she caught sight of her reflection. Red and black… She had grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door and slipped it over her shoulders in an attempt to ignore the fact that she wearing ‘Spike’s’ uniform. The first few months after the destruction of Sunnydale had been hard, but she had gotten through it. And now she had someone in her life, and every time she found her thoughts shifting from her actual boyfriend to that of Spike she chastised herself. Spike was gone. There was no sense dreaming of impossible futures, it would only lead to disappointment. At one point, when it had been almost too much to bare she had gone to Willow for help, begging for a spell or a potion or something that would make her feelings for the lost vampire dissipate. Willow had denied her the magically induced solace that she so desperately sought and as time had passed Buffy realized that her friend had been right in doing so. Just as she had to work through her grief over the loss of her mother, she had to work through this as well. It would make her stronger and strong is what she needed to be. She was a role model for all of the girls at the school, they needed her to lead. From time to time she did remember that night in her living room when those in her charge, her friends and her sister had turned her out into the night for doing exactly that. But she pushed those thoughts away. Just as she pushed thoughts of Spike away… “We’re here, Miss Buffy.” Morty’s voice broke through her thoughts and Buffy thanked him quietly before quickly exiting the car and stepping into the waiting elevator, once more feeling that being in this place was a bad idea. ~~~ Spike lifted a scarred brow when Doyle changed the topic of conversation to something that only hours ago had been agreed to be left alone. “So this Buffy, what was she like?” His expression hardened, his fists clenching by his sides. “Doyle,” Spike warned, his tone of voice almost dangerous. “I’m an inquisitive person by nature, can you blame me?” he asked. Spike growled quietly in response, earning an apologetic shrug from his guide. “My mistake, won’t bring it up again.” At Spike’s responding snort, a grin curled at his mouth. “So we’re agreed on the target area for this evening? Down by the docks?” Nodding, Spike stood from the stool he was perched upon and made his way towards the exit of the bar. It was time to take out some of that frustration. ~~~ Buffy turned the stun gun over in her right hand before shifting it to her left to test its weight. Stun guns weren’t exactly her thing but if carrying this would keep Angel off her back then she would do it. The vampire in question had just left and Buffy found herself alone with the stuttering technician who looked at her as if she were about to grow two heads. “Is there anything else I have to take with me?” she asked dryly, keeping her distance from the young man in an attempt to settle his nerves. When he shook his head vigorously she noted that her attempts had been futile. Turning her back on him, she slipped the small weapon into a carry bag along with a couple of stakes and a few vials of holy water. Realizing that this was his only opportunity, Lucas crept forward with the small tracking bug in the form of a clear sticker. With shaky hands he pressed it to the collar of her jacket as lightly as possible. Sensing the movement behind her Buffy turned around and stepped back abruptly at the proximity of the technician. His eyes went wide as he stared blankly at her, before a moment later he produced a large wooden cross and held it out to her. “Th-this might be of help.” With a curious frown Buffy nodded, accepting the cross and slipping it into the bag. “Okay, thanks.” With one last look at the strange young man, she left the lab. Letting out a sigh of relief, Lucas collapsed into a chair, thankful that she hadn’t detected what he had been doing. With the flick of a couple of switches, a small green dot appeared on the screen before him, showing the slayer’s position as she moved throughout the building. It was done. ~~~ Spike staked his first two vampires with ease, having found them before they had found themselves victims for the night. Now he was wandering by the docks in search of more would-be attackers. The longer he walked without incident, the more he found himself thinking of Buffy. He cursed Doyle for his nosy questions that dredged up memories he was trying too hard to forget. A scream ripped through the air and Spike sent a silent thanks to the gods for offering a distraction before taking off at a run in the direction it had originated from. ~~~ The small van that had Buffy and five operatives piled into it pulled to a stop in the warehouse district where the target, Dana, had last been seen. Buffy climbed out of the vehicle the moment it pulled to a stop. Not wanting to ruin another new clothing acquisition, Buffy slipped off her denim jacket and threw it on the seat she had been seated on before grabbing her slaying bag and pulling the strap over her shoulder. She set off into the night with the five strong team of ‘bodyguards’, rolling her eyes when it was suggested she walk between them. This was going to be a long night. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Sorry for the delay guys, uni was seriously kicking my ass. But Yay! Only one more day left for the year. Hope you like the chapter, please leave your thoughts.

Chapter #5 - Losing a Tail.

A/N: Thanks to Megan for betaing! *hugs* Chapter 5: Losing a Tail. “Oh crap,” Lucas muttered when the one green blip on the screen suddenly became two, and neither was stationary. The Slayer must have ditched the weapon and it had obviously been picked up by someone or something else. His gaze darted from one dot to the other, trying to ascertain which one was the Slayer. If she managed to ditch her escort as Mr. Angel seemed to think she would, the rest of the team would need to know her co-ordinates. ~~~ Buffy managed to lose her ‘back up’ inside of ten minutes, having taken off towards the other end of the large factory estate before doubling back over her tracks. Confident she would have a chance to patrol by herself, she kept her eyes open for any sign of the missing slayer. Buffy had felt a wave of nausea roll over her in the boardroom earlier on today when she had read the file. Dana had been a patient in the psych ward for a number of years, the constant doping with Thorazine the only thing that managed to keep her controllable. A mix up with the medication had caused her to awaken from her normal catatonic state to exhibiting an explosive outburst of inhuman strength when she had smashed her way out of the hospital. The nurses had thought her demonically possessed even though Dr. Rabinov had dismissed it as ludicrous. She had been kidnapped at the age of ten after having witnessed her family being murdered. She was tortured for months and when she was finally found, she was naked and bleeding wandering the streets. And she had been locked up ever since. The girl had been abused to the point it had mentally destroyed her. And then she had been called as a slayer and the dreams that accompanied her calling had shattered her already fragile mind, plunging her further into insanity. She now understood why Giles wanted Dana to return to England. She couldn’t be left in the hands of these doctors to be used a guinea pig. At the same time, Buffy didn’t know if they would be able to help her. She just hoped Giles knew what he was doing. A crash sounded from an alleyway a few feet from her current position and Buffy darted towards it, following the sound. About halfway down she saw her, Dana. She was dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, and was scavenging through a rubbish can for food scraps. Slowly removing her stun gun from her knapsack, Buffy inched forwards. Dana seemed to stiffen, her gaze lifting to meet Buffy’s and it was at that moment that she noticed the dark red lines of a warrior that tracked down her face. It appeared to be blood. When it looked as if she were about to take off, Buffy spoke. “Dana, you don’t need to be afraid of me,” she said as calmly and soothingly as possible. “Vampiro,” Dana muttered in response, gesturing towards Buffy with something in her hand. Buffy had garnered from the doctor’s reports and from Angel’s intelligence report regarding the slayer before her that she seemed to speak several languages. It was as if she were reliving in a very short period of time the lives of slayer’s past. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to converse with the girl in another language, she relied on a few key words and body language. Making her stance as non-threatening as possible, Buffy shook her head, pointing to herself as she spoke. “Slayer.” Confusion swept Dana’s eyes before she shook her head to the negative, pointing at herself. “Slayer.” “Yes,” Buffy responded. “You are a slayer. So am I.” Dana tilted her head to the side in confusion; seemingly unsure of how to take what Buffy was saying but not running away. A crashing noise sounded and both Buffy and Dana jumped when the five operatives who had been assigned to tail Buffy appeared at the mouth of the alleyway. “Freeze!” one of them shouted. “Stop!” Buffy demanded, lifting a hand to instruct the men to back off, but they just ignored her as they swept towards the target. Identifying the camouflage suited men as a threat, Dana attacked, her weapon catching the light from the lonely street lamp that weakly lit the alleyway. Buffy shouted in warning seconds too late before the large knife was swept around in a cleaving action, slicing an operatives’ neck right open. The guy fell to his knees, clutching his throat with both hands as blood gushed from the open wound. Buffy lifted the hand that held her stun gun and pulled on the trigger, bolts of electricity shooting out from the small weapon. At the last second one of the operatives dove at Dana, collecting the blast that Buffy had shot. With a strangled cry of pain he fell to his knees, receiving a kick to the head from Dana as she ran passed him and disappeared out the other end of the alley. Two of the others still standing made a move to follow in pursuit of the target but at Buffy’s sharp order they backed down. The senior ranking operative unclipped his radio from his belt and called in their position for pick up. With a choked cry of pain, the operative with a slit throat fell limply against the ground, his struggles ending when his body gave up its fight for survival. ~~~ Spike had been patrolling the docks for several hours when he finally decided to pack it in for the night. He had dusted several vampires, one having been about to chow down on a little old woman. With a punch to the head and a kick to the mid section he had the demon backed up against a wall. The sharp arc of his swing brought the stake home before it even had the opportunity to fire a sarcastic comment. It was almost disappointing. The irony of the whole situation was when he turned his attention to the old woman to inform her that she was safe now and ended up copping a beating from her handbag. Cursing under his breath, he had let her be and quickly exited the scene before his more primal instincts took over and he felt like returning the blows. And now he found himself wandering aimlessly, which was why he was contemplating crashing for the night. That was when he caught a whiff of it in the air, freshly spilled blood. His face vamped instantly, allowing him to hone in his sense of smell and track it to its location. A couple of twists and turns and he found himself in a narrow alleyway. About half way down he spotted it. The pooled blood was beginning to congeal but it was freshly spilled. There was no way this was a vamp attack, no demon would have wasted so much of the amber liquid. Another smell assaulted his senses and he found himself being transported ten months back in time to the small bedroom of an unknown Sunnydale resident. He would know that smell anywhere; there was nothing, no one in the world that smelled like that. Like honey and sunshine and vanilla. “Buffy…” he muttered as his face relaxed to its human form, his eyes darting wildly around the alleyway. But it was empty. He breathed in deeply again, devouring the fleeting aroma. It couldn’t be… she was in England. It had to be because of the dreams. Lately she had been haunting him more than ever and now it seemed that his fantasies were no longer restricted to sleep. Chastising himself for allowing his dreams to take such hold of him, he returned his attention to the blood. Examining it more closely he saw that there was a very long spray on one wall and then the large pool on the ground, drips and drops splattered between the two distinguishing marks. The spray had to have been arterial. That was the only way blood would spurt at such a sharp angle that it was colouring the wall of the alley. The victim, whoever they were, would have had no chance. Yet there was no body, which was more than a little odd. Knowing there was nothing he could do, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and turned away from the scene, headed in the direction of his apartment. He needed a drink… ~~~ Buffy rode in the back of Morty’s limo in silence on the way back to her hotel. Tonight had been a bust. Sure, there had been a sighting of Dana and for a moment it had seemed like she might be able to make contact with her, but then Angel’s commandos had come in and ruined everything. One of the men had died at the scene, and seeing the others carry his lifeless body back to the van had not been a pleasant experience. She didn’t even want to think about what they were going to do with him. The other guy who had been shocked by Buffy’s weapon had woken up in the van on the return to Wolfram and Hart, groggy and sore but otherwise fine. The scary thing about how these guys had operated was that they were so unemotional about the loss of their comrade. It was almost as if they didn’t care, their actions and speech almost robotic. The leather of the seat squeaked as she shuddered in repulsion. Buffy hadn’t wanted back up and she was almost wishing she had been firmer in standing up to Angel. The way she had figured it, the less conflict she caused the quicker the job could be completed. Which meant she could return home sooner rather than later. Home… It was funny how short a time it had taken for her to think of England as home. Not that she planned on staying in the ‘Mother Country’ indefinitely, just as long as Giles needed her in assisting with the school. That didn’t meant she didn’t like the place though. She knew her way around the small town that occupied the school. She had her favourite places; a bakery that made the best donuts, a coffee place that made hot chocolate almost as good as her mom had, and a street lined with nice little clothing boutiques. Buffy really had everything she needed at her fingertips. And what exactly did America have to offer her that she couldn’t find in England? Her home town was gone, LA made her uncomfortable and not just because of Angel’s presence there but also because it was the site of the demise of her parents marriage. And her father? Buffy hadn’t heard from him in months. He had called after he had found out about her town’s ‘mysterious collapse’, but it hadn’t been until almost a month afterwards. And he had only been able to reach her because Dawn had called Hank at his office and left a message with his new secretary, just in case he needed to contact them. Buffy sighed. Their father had seemingly lost interest in being anything of importance in his daughters’ lives not more than two years after the initial move from LA. It was the visits first. It became every other weekend, then once a month and finally whenever he got ‘a break from work’. The phone calls had then begun to wane, the frequency being once a month if they were lucky during Buffy’s first year of college. Now they were lucky if they got a card on their birthdays. Buffy was over it but she knew it still bothered Dawn a little. The limo pulled up in the valet section of her hotel and when Morty jumped out from the driver’s seat and opened her door, she exited. Despite her protestations that she could open a door herself, the older gentleman insisted. “Good night, Miss Buffy,” he wished adieu. “Good night, Morty,” she responded with a tired smile. A shiver rolled over her, a combined affect of the crisp air she stepped into and of the memory of what she had witnessed tonight playing over in her mind. Seeing a human – or more specifically a slayer – kill another human was not something that she witnessed every day. Buffy dealt with the death of innocents every day, it was a part of the slaying package. But seeing one of her kind being the hand that struck that fatal blow was not something you just got used to. She walked into the hotel and made a beeline for the elevators. She had a couple of phone calls to make before she went to sleep. ~~~ Giles sipped at his tea as he quickly dealt with paperwork. He had bills for the construction work that needed to be filed away appropriately and new enrolment forms to process. Willow was right; he needed a secretary. A knock sounded on the door to his office, and too few moments later the chirpy face of Andrew made his presence known. “Good morning, fellow watcher,” he beamed. “Good morning, Andrew,” Giles replied politely, unable to hide the smile that crept across his face at the young man’s enthusiasm. His gusto when it came to devouring knowledge concerning his newly appointed position was admirable, if tiresome. “Any missions you wish me to undertake this morning?” the younger man questioned with just as much vigor as his initial greeting. “Any wrists to be slapped or detentions to be assigned? Just the other day Faith showed me a neat way to bind people’s wrists with --” Giles sighed as he removed his glasses. “There will be no tying up of the students, Andrew.” Andrew looked crestfallen at Giles dismissal but quickly bounced back and brushed it off. “May I partake with you in a discussion of the finer points of the value of cinematic studies? I do believe that our girls need to be educated in all areas of the curriculum and just this morning I was talking to Josephine about ‘The Return of the King’ and was shocked to hear her ask if Dumbledore --” The telephone rang. Giles looked to the heavens and silently thanked the caller in advance for saving him from the discussion with Andrew. The memory of being lectured about the difference between Boba Fett and Han Solo was not something he wanted to revisit again. Ever. It was his private line so it could only be one of a few people calling. “Hello, Giles speaking.” “Giles, it’s Buffy.” A smile of relief spread across his face. He had been wondering when she would be checking in. Looking at his watch and noting it was a little after 11am, he realized it must be close to 4am where she was in LA. “What are you doing up so late? Or early depending on the way you look at it,” he smiled affectionately. “Just got back to my hotel from patrol,” she informed. Giles sat up a little straighter as he waited for her to continue. “Is that Buffy?” Andrew whispered loudly. Giles nodded quickly. “HI BUFFY!” Andrew called as he leaned closer to the phone. “We miss you, fearless leader.” Buffy listed in as Giles half covered the mouthpiece. He sighed in frustration before speaking. “Andrew, please, do go and see if Faith needs any help with her class this morning.” “Aye aye Captain.” Andrew saluted before he exited the office. Buffy snickered. “Sounds like your shadow is still following you around.” “You have no idea,” Giles commented dryly. “You were saying about patrol?” “Oh yeah,” Buffy nodded. “I had a run in with Dana. I’d fill you in on the specifics but there wasn’t much. She slit the throat of one of Angel’s operatives and ran before I could talk to her.” “Operatives?” Giles questioned. “You weren’t patrolling alone?” “Don’t get me started.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I’ll call again tonight…tomorrow night… you know what I mean.” “Yes,” he nodded. “Until tomorrow.” “Good night, Giles.” Buffy disconnected the call and curled up into her bed. She was so ready for some sleepy goodness. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you guys like, please leave your thoughts!

Chapter #6 - Dead Man Walking.

A/N: As always, thanks to Megan for betaing. Chapter 6: Dead Man Walking. Mid morning the next day, Buffy found herself riding the elevator from the basement car park and up into the W&H building. Again. The last thing she wanted to do was go back into that place, but here she was anyway. The bell for the door dinged signaling her floor and she stepped out of the elevator and into the hub of the building. A few technicians of demon descent saw her entrance and quickly turned on their heels and walked away from her, obviously fearful that she would attack them. Making a beeline for Angel’s office, she ignored Harmony’s attempts at asking her to stop until her presence was announced. Pushing through the double doors to the office she walked in, instantly becoming the center of attention as six pairs of eyes turned in her direction. Angel, Gunn, Fred, Wesley, Lorne and… a frown marred her brow when she spotted a face she didn’t recognize. Fred waved as the slayer walked further into the office, smiles greeting her from everyone except the unknown. “Buffy,” Angel greeted, the surprise of her entrance detectable in his voice. He was leaning against the front of his desk, everyone else standing in a circular pattern. “Angel,” she replied. “Guys.” She smiled at the faces she knew, her gaze coming to a stop on the unfamiliar face. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Eve,” the woman introduced. “Buffy,” she replied bluntly. “So I heard.” The young woman eyed Buffy from head to toe, turning to Angel as she continued to speak, “So she was the Slayer?” “Am the slayer,” Buffy corrected, folding her arms over her chest. Her gaze flickered over the woman who appeared to be about her age. She was pretty and she obviously had an attitude on her. Unfortunately for Eve, Buffy had dealt with enough bitchiness over the last few months because of the school’s opening and was in no mood for more of it. “My mistake,” Eve apologised with no sincerity whatsoever. Buffy pursed her lips, deciding to ignore the stranger. “Angel, you wanted me to come in for a debriefing, but since you are obviously busy right now, I’ll just go and come back later. I wanted to train for a while anyway.” “Oh! We have a gym and training rooms here you could use,” Fred suggested, smiling brightly. Nodding in thanks, Buffy looked over her shoulder. “And they would be…” “I’ll show you,” Gunn offered, making his way to Buffy’s side and pointing towards the door. “I won’t be too long,” Angel apologised to Buffy with a half smile half frown. “No rush.” Buffy and Gunn exited the office. “She’s a pretty one,” Eve commented. “Didn’t you two date at one time?” Angel’s gaze became threatening, his eyes clouding over. His expression showed just how much he did not want to be discussing this with the liaison to the Senior Partners and for once Eve didn’t pursue it. Not at all fazed by the glare, she moved towards the desk and perched herself on the corner. “So kids, let’s get to business.” ~~~ Spike woke from slumber, wiping his bleary eyes with the back of his hand. Throwing back the covers, his feet found the floor and he instantly began moving towards the small bathroom. He smelled like blood and whiskey, having drunk himself into oblivion again last night after his imagination placed Buffy everywhere. He had almost convinced himself that she was here in LA but he knew that to be untrue. She was in London, on the other side of the world. In a moment of drunken courage he had picked up his telephone and dialed Wolfram and Hart and slurred to someone from research that he needed a number tracked down. The male had acquiesced to his request and found a file that contained a telephone number where Buffy might be reachable, the vampire’s hopes soaring until the rug was pulled out from beneath him. Apparently there was a block on the file that Angel himself had placed upon it, and the only person authorized to remove it was Broody Face himself. Cursing loudly, Spike had polished off the rest of the liquor, somehow managing to stumble to his small single bed before he passed out. It was as he was walking to the bathroom now that his right big toe connected with the doorframe. Hopping naked on one foot whilst the slight pain ebbed, he stepped into the cubicle and turned on the taps, hoping a shower would clear his head enough so that he could head into the W&H offices sometime today. He had a bone to pick with Angel… ~~~ Buffy eyed the impressive training room, liking what she saw. The room was floor to ceiling mirrors on three sides, the fourth a wall of windows that displayed a beautiful view of downtown LA. There were punching bags of several sizes hung from chains attached to the roof in one corner, free weights on a rack along the wall near the door and a large gymnastics horse to the far right. The room afforded a large amount of free space in the center allowing room for tumbling, tai chi, martial arts, basically anything you could thing to do with it. “This a human only training room?” Buffy asked of Gunn as he stepped into the room behind her. “This is Angel’s private training room,” the street fighter-come-lawyer explained. Buffy frowned, “But the windows…” “Necro-tempered glass,” Gunn informed matter-of-factly. “Like the rest of the windows in the building.” “Of course.” Buffy walked around the room, spotting a cabinet to her left and walking over it. Opening the top drawer she found bandages and gloves, presumably for use with the punching bags. Shrugging off her denim jacket-- leaving her dressed in a black singlet and gray sweat pants-- Buffy began to wrap her hands. “You planning on watching?” she questioned good-humouredly when Gunn made no move to leave. Shrugging his shoulders, he slipped his own jacket off and made himself comfortable by leaning up against one of the mirrors. “A slayer in action? Not something I’m going to pass up on,” he grinned. Buffy mimicked his shrugging action as she finishing binding her knuckles and approached the bag. “This thing secure?” she asked. “I wouldn’t wanna break something on my first day in here… no hang on, I did that already.” Gunn laughed at her joke, the sound dying as a gurgle in his throat when, with an impressive leap, Buffy spun a deadly kick at the larger punching bag, causing it to swing wildly. “Damn.” ~~~ Spike stepped out of the lifts and proceeded towards Angel’s office. His fingers danced across his receptionist’s desk as he walked past, a quick “Morning” tossed carelessly over his shoulder as he continued moving. Harmony’s head shot up at the last second, her mouth gaping like a fish when realization hit her. “You can’t go in there!” she blurted out suddenly. She hadn’t been paying all that much attention to the goings in and out of her boss’s office this morning and for all she knew, Buffy could still be in there. And Angel would literally have her head if Spike walked in on that little surprise. Spike stopped his forward momentum, turning to lift an eyebrow in question. “And why’s that? Peaches doin’ some business deal he don’t want me to sit in on?” With a shrug of his shoulders showing just how much he didn’t care, he began moving again. Harmony darted out from behind her desk, coming to an abrupt stop before him. “No, it’s not about Angel, it’s about us,” she blurted out in desperation. Her gaze flickered to the office door and back again before she turned her attention back to Spike. You can do this… she mentally encouraged herself. You dated him for months, just use what works… A scarred brow lifted even higher. “And what exactly about us—and I use the term loosely—” he drawled, “were you referring to?” “I want you,” she replied breathily, taking a step towards him. Harmony shook her hair over her shoulder as she slipped into the attempted seduction, half hoping he’d take her up on it. “I want you and I want you now.” Spike stepped backwards as he lifted his hands in defense. “Harm, I thought we’d discussed the fact that this,” his hand pointed from her to him and back again, “was over?” “We did,” she nodded. “But a girl can change her mind, can’t she?” Harmony prowled closer to him again. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Spike was frozen for a moment before he snapped out of it. His arms darted forwards and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her flush against him. He held her like that for a moment, seeing her eyes glaze over with lust before he pivoted their positions so that she was now up against her desk. And he was free to walk right into the office. He left her side before she even realized what had happened, and when her mind cleared and she did call out, it was too late. The doors to Angel’s office were swinging closed. Grabbing for her phone she paged her boss. “Spike is on his way to see you boss.” ~~~ Angel’s attention snapped to the opening door, wondering why Buffy would be returning so soon. Except it wasn’t Buffy. “Spike,” he growled out in annoyance. “Peaches.” Fred looked around the room nervously, her gaze turning to Wes who had a similar expression of unease on his face. Spike was here and Buffy was still in the building. She hoped that Angel would handle this little problem. Fred didn’t exactly feel comfortable in lying to someone who had quickly become a friend. The beep of his telephone sounded and Harmony’s voice filled the room a moment later. “Spike is on his way to see you boss.” “So I see,” Angel retorted, his displeasure evident. He rolled his eyes and as he reached for the phone. Disconnecting the useless call, he turned his full attention to the bleached annoyance before him. “Why exactly are you here, Spike?” Spike shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance, not really wanting an audience for the conversation he had planned. “Was patrolling last night. Found some interestin’ blood patterns down by the docks.” Angel visibly stiffened at the mentioned location. Turning to Eve, he made it clear that their little meeting was over. “That’ll be all for today.” He had given her explicit directions about Buffy and the fact that she was not to be mentioned in Spike’s presence, he just hoped she followed them. The girl had a tendency for doing things her way. With pursed lips and a flip of her hair, Eve turned towards the doors. “Don’t forget that we have a conference scheduled for next week in regards to the profit margins of the firm. You know how the Senior Partners love it when they hear costs are down. Catch you later kids.” Not waiting for a response, she left the room. Lorne was the first one to pipe up. “Well kiddies, it’s time for me to hit the circuit. Personally, I don’t want to be around when Mr. Happy Face and his protégé here butt heads.” Angel’s expression was black, anger bubbling under the surface that was no doubt caused by Spike’s presence. The green skinned demon turned to Spike and continued before either vampire could interrupt. “That was a compliment by the way sweet-cheeks, not an insult.” With a dip of his head, he turned on his heel and left the office. “Protégé my ass,” Spike muttered under his breath. Angel scowled when he caught the remark. “Spike, I really don’t have time right now to deal with this.” He turned his attention away from the bleach-haired vampire and towards the two remaining key members of his team. “We’ll continue this later,” he informed, referring to the discussion about Buffy that had been in session before Spike’s entrance. “Didn’t one of you need some help with a case?” he asked, continuing before either of them could deny it. “Take Spike with you; keep him out from under my feet.” Fred looked to Spike nervously, seeing the anger flashing through his eyes. “That was me,” she jumped in as quickly as possible. Shrugging her shoulders, she laughed to try and lighten the situation, hoping that it sounded more convincing to the others than it did in her mind. “Heavy lifting stuff that I’d prefer not to leave to the techies. Need someone trustworthy, you know?” Spike’s angered expression seemed to alleviate slightly at Fred’s request. With a nod in her direction, he gave Angel a pointed look expressing that he would be back to finish this later. The scientist and the vampire left walking side by side, Fred talking animatedly about a case she was working on. The moment they left the room, Angel moved back to his desk and sat down, lifting some papers and shifting through them. Now that they were alone, Wesley decided to bring up the topic they had been discussing before Spike’s timely arrival. He wasn’t alone in thinking that concealing Buffy’s presence was not a good idea. If Spike found out there would be no saying how he would react. Wesley could only imagine it would not be lightly, and that was just going on the records he had on ‘William the Bloody’s’ past. The last few weeks had shown just how desperately the vampire was in love with Buffy, and he knew that love was a powerful force. People in love could be incredibly dangerous, especially if wronged. “Angel, do you really think it is best to keep Buffy’s presence secret from Spike?” he asked, continuing quickly when, as he took a few steps towards the desk only to stop when he saw the way Angel had bristled in response to the subject he was trying to broach. “I think that --” “I don’t pay you to think,” Angel grunted, his focus never leaving the paperwork as he belittled Wesley. “This topic is not open for discussion again.” Wesley clenched his jaw. Angel lifted his attention from his paperwork just long enough to make his final point. “I hope I’m making myself clear. This is my decision and this is how it is going to be.” Knowing there was no point in arguing, Wesley turned on his heel and left the office. Sighing heavily, Angel returned his attention back to his paperwork. They just didn’t understand… ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Next chapter! Hope you guys like!

Chapter #7 - Distractions.

A/N: BIG thanks to Megan for betaing. Chapter 7: Distractions. “And that one needs to go over there,” Fred pointed. Spike obliged with her request, lifting and carrying the said items and placing them where she so desired. He liked Fred and he considered her a friend. She had been the only one who had given him the time of day when he had been blinking in and out of existence between this dimension and a place he never wanted to return again. The research she had put into trying to figure out a way to reanimate him was above and beyond the call of duty. Hell, if Angel had known about her efforts in advance, Spike would be surprised that he had lasted as long as he did. Hope was a funny thing. It was his hope that Fred would figure out the ‘cure’ to his ghostliness that had given him the strength to fight back, to try and stay in this world. And over those weeks of her working on some mathematical equation or trying to bend specific laws of physics, he had gotten to know her. She was a very kind woman who had strength within her that a lot of people did not see. And she was also a crappy liar. Which is how Spike knew something was up. “Stalled me for long enough yet, pet?” he asked with a quirked brow when the last package had been moved to its new destination. Fred’s jaw gaped slightly, her eyes widening like saucers at Spike’s keen observation. I told Angel I didn’t like lying… “What do you mean?” she asked trying to play it coy even though she knew Spike had obviously seen through the charade. She giggled nervously, trying to keep up the charade. “Fred, pet, you couldn’t lie if your life depended on it,” he chuckled. Indignance flashed through her eyes. “I can too!” she retorted. “I’ll have you know that I can lie quite well when the occasion calls for it. When I was first brought back from Pylea there was a time when Wesley and Gunn were affected by the blood of this --” “You might be able to fool Charlie boy and Wesley, but I’ve been in the game a lot longer than them,” he pointed out. Fred bit her lip about to offer a denial when her telephone beeped. Holding up a finger she motioned for him to stay put as she turned to answer it. “Department of… Oh hi, George!” she greeted brightly when her regular contact jumped in before the end of her spiel like he always did. She turned around and instantly noted the absence of Spike. “Oh you sneaky little…” Hearing the distressed tone on the other end of the line, she immediately began apologizing. “Oh no, not you, George. Of course I don’t think you’re sneaky, I was referring to…” ~~~ Buffy reached for the towel and dabbed at the sweat that had formed on her forehead and neck. The hour-long workout had been just what she needed and she felt calmer and more relaxed in her surroundings than she had thus far. Gunn had left after ten or so minutes, his expectations of a slayer having been drastically changed after witnessing Buffy’s workout. And he had voiced his thoughts. A small part of Buffy was pleased with the praise; the knowledge that Gunn had been impressed by her skill more so than Faith’s gave her ego a little boost. Not that things between her and Faith were as strained as they used to be, but the competitiveness still raised its head every now and then. Buffy took this silent victory. It was as she was sipping from the water bottle that Gunn had provided that the door to the training room opened. Buffy spun in its direction, though she knew the identity of the visitor even with her back turned. Even with the long separations and their gradual growing apart, she still knew innately when Angel was around. “Angel,” she greeted with a smile and a nod. As if remembering that she wasn’t supposed to be so casual with her former-- in light of his current job position--formality crept back into her voice. “Impressive room you’ve got yourself here. I’m sorry if I intruded by using it.” Angel smiled softly. “It rarely gets the attention it deserves. No apology necessary.” He shrugged off his suit jacket in a similar fashion to how Gunn had, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and revealing a white wife beater beneath. Toeing out of his shoes, he peeled off his socks and ambled towards her. “I came in to do some Tai Chi. Meditating helps keep my mind clear.” Buffy nodded in understanding. “I haven’t meditated in a long while but I still use what you taught me from time to time.” His surprise was evident in his eyes, a slow smile curling at his lips. “Care to join me?” She hesitated for a moment before acquiescing, moving slowly from the edge of the room to the center mat and taking up a position. As one they performed the routine, arms lifting slowly into the air before stretching outwards as they pushed the negative energy away from their bodies. Angel could hear her heart beat slow and steady, her breath controlled and calm as she moved through the positions. All too soon they had completed the cycle and Angel found himself searching for excuses for her to stay so that he could spend more time with her. “Buffy, I was thinking,” he began, only to be cut off by a loud beeping noise. Buffy’s eyes darted to the side of the room, spying her beeper. She swiftly made her way over to it and depressed a small button to illuminate the message. Giles. Dropping the beeper back on the bench, she began unwrapping her hands and collected her jacket. Lifting her gaze to Angel she shrugged apologetically. “I have to go. Giles needs to conference with me about an issue regarding the school and I left all my paperwork back at the hotel.” Angel was disappointed but knew the interruption was probably for the best considering Spike was wandering the premises. “No problem,” he replied. “When you get the chance, just give me a call so we can figure out what to do about Dana.” Buffy acknowledged his request with a smile before turning and exiting the room. The vampire began pacing the room for a few moments, second-guessing himself about decisions he had made before shaking the thoughts off. It had to be done. Figuring he may as well make use of the training room-- considering he was already there-- he changed out of his suit pants and slipped on a pair of sweat pants he had stored in a drawer. Using up some energy might just be what he needed to help him dismiss thoughts of Spike once and for all. ~~~ A wave of familiarity rolled over Buffy as she walked through the lobby and towards the elevator. So very much like the feeling she got when Angel was around… but not. Pushing it away, she continued walking towards her exit. She rode the elevator down to the parking lot in silence, knowing that Morty would be waiting for her. She was not disappointed when the doors opened. “Back to the hotel, Miss Buffy?” he asked with his trademark bright smile. “Yes, Morty.” ~~~ Spike wandered down the hallway towards Angel’s training room, having weasled his location from Harmony. There had been no mention of her earlier proposition and she had treated him as if it had never happened. Assuming that she was embarrassed by it he had not brought it up. He had also been surprised at how easily she had given him her boss’s location. Pushing through the double doors, he found Angel attacking a punching bag. “Burning off a little sexual frustration?” he mocked as he sauntered into the room. The over-riding smell of male sweat assaulted his senses and he scrunched up his nose. Old habits died hard and Spike was a very sensory person. Vampires didn’t need to breathe so most rarely used their sense of smell unless they were hunting. Spike, on the other hand, almost always did. Angel stopped his attack of the weighted bag and turned towards him, a glare imprinted on his face. “Spike, what are you doing here?” Spike rolled his eyes. “Didn’t figure I’d give up so soon, did ya? I got a bone to hit you wi--” The aroma hit him like a speeding truck, Spike’s eyes widening and his jaw gaping. “You’re going to what, Spike?” Angel finally drawled sarcastically. “There it is again!” he exclaimed. “That bloody aroma, that smell that could only be…” Spike fisted his hands by his sides as he began to pace the small room. He had to be losing his mind. First it hit him in the alleyway and now here. He had heard of and experienced dreams that had seemed so real that you could touch and taste and smell, but it had never happened whilst he had been awake. Maybe all the whiskey is killing off brain cells… “It’s called sweat, Spike,” Angel derided. “Did you not see that you interrupted my workout?” “Well if your cologne is vanilla and honey scented then you’re even more demented than I thought you were,” he retorted, eyes flashing angrily as he stopped his pacing and took several large strides towards the older vampire. “I’m losing my mind.” “Been lost a long time now,” Angel muttered not so quietly. Spike glared at the elder vampire, hardly believing that he was lowering himself enough to identify with his grandsire. “Was it like this for you?” he asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his words. “Was what like --” Angel was interrupted as Spike continued. He was running his hands through his hair, his eyes darting almost wildly around the room. He appeared to be waging an internal battle with his thoughts as he resumed his pacing. “Not bein’ around her.” The words tumbled out of his mouth in long run on sentences, not allowing time for Angel to respond. “When you first left Sunnydale. Did you dream about her? About her hair, her lips, the way she could stare at you and see the soul behind the demon?” Angel’s arms folded over his chest as he leaned up against the gymnastics horse. There was no misunderstanding what Spike was rambling about right now. “I’ve been havin’ dreams, vivid life-like dreams and I figure it’s partly cos of the booze, but now it’s not just when I’m sleepin’. Last night, just now… I can smell her.” He turned his gaze to Angel, giving in to his desperation. “How’d you get past it, knowin’ she was so close but you couldn’t touch her?” “It was hard,” Angel replied honestly, having more invested in this conversation than Spike could ever realize. “But you learn to deal. Buffy is living her own life now, she deserves a chance at a normal life.” “I’m being haunted is what it is,” Spike said adamantly. “You think Fred or Wes’d know some spell to magic the hurt away?” ~~~ Buffy shifted in her seat in the back of the limo, suddenly becoming aware of the lack of plastic that normally dug into her hip. Checking her jacket pockets which turned up empty, she pressed the button to lower the visor. “Yes, Miss Buffy?” Morty queried. “I forgot my pager.” She shook her head at her absent-mindedness. “Can we swing back and get it?” “Sure thing.” ~~~ “Spike, maybe you just need some time off. A vacation. Maybe somewhere in South America, so you can think.” Spike shook his head in disagreement. “No, I need a spell. Or a potion. Or a bloody memory wipe. It’s too bloody hard thinkin’ and dreamin’ about her and knowin’ she doesn’t have a bloody clue I’m alive. I don’t even know if she’d care.” Angel had never seen Spike so despondent before. Not even when he was with Drusilla, and that was saying something. Pity Angel didn’t feel like doing anything about it. ~~~ “Thanks,” Buffy called as she jumped out through the back door of the limo before Morty could open it and bounded for the lifts. Pressing the button, she waited as the doors closed behind her and the small capsule slowly lifted skywards. When they opened on her floor she exited and swiftly made her way towards Angel’s training room, passing Harmony’s desk in her travels. The blond vampire looked up as the slayer swept passed her, eyes widening like saucers when she realized where she must be heading. Leaping up from her arm chair, she raced to catch up with her. “Buffy, wait!” she cried desperately just as the Slayer was about to turn the last corner before the training room. Buffy stopped her movement, rolling her eyes at Harmony’s calls. “Harmony, I’m just collecting my beeper and then I’ll be going.” “I’ll get it for you,” Harmony blurted out quickly. Frowning, Buffy shook her head. “No, it’s fine, I was only in there a little while ago.” “Angel’s busy right now, he won’t want interruptions.” Harmony stepped in front of Buffy, effectively blocking her entrance. Buffy pursed her lips. “I think I know Angel a little better than you and I know he wouldn’t mind me walking in for a few seconds.” She tried to step around Harmony but the vampire mirrored her movements. “I really didn’t want to have to do this… but…” Buffy reached for Harmony’s throat and slammed her into the wall, side-stepping the weak punch the vampire threw in her direction. With long strides she approached the doors and pushed through them. “Angel, I had to hit your secretary, I’m really…” she looked up and her jaw dropped. “Buffy?” ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you guys like!

Chapter #8 - Explosive Reunions.

A/N: As always, thanks to Megan for betaing. :D Chapter 8: Explosive Reunions. “Buffy?” Her gaze blinked from the apparition before her towards Angel, confusion washing over her. She was imagining it… she had to be. He’s not really there… She began feeling dizzy and had reached for the wall to support herself when her knees began to tremble. Angel and Spike both reflexively moved towards her, each reaching forward but neither going the full distance when she seemed to steady. Angel knew the game was up, that he was going to have some explaining to do. That is if she doesn’t stake me first… Spike’s heart was soaring. She was here… she was really here. Within touching distance, not on the other side of the world as he had been moaning about moments ago. He could feel the confusion that rolled off her, could hear the way her heartbeat leapt up a notch when he moved towards her. Her eyes slowly lifted from the floor to his face, and Spike’s expression softened, the love he felt for this girl before him shining out from his eyes. She was the one thing in this world that he’d fought for, that he had died for. She was his reason for being. She was swinging a punch right at him… Buffy’s fist connected with Spike’s nose a milli-second after she swung. His reaction was immediate, a howl of pain followed by a string of curses which drowned out her gasp. He’s really here… “What the bloody hell was that for?” he demanded. A laugh of disbelief broke free from her mouth, her hand coming up to clap it closed. How was this even possible? He had died, she had watched as he had begun to crumble. Could he somehow have escaped that and not told her? Her joy immediately began to shift to anger at that thought. “Buffy, I can explain,” Angel began. Buffy’s eyes flew to Angel, her expression accusatory as she swung a fist in his direction. But Angel had been expecting it, his block changing the trajectory of her assault and landing it in his chest instead of his face. “You knew?” Spike’s eyes widened in belated realization. “You bloody knew she was here? After I poured my bleedin’ heart out you didn’t think to fill me in? Oh yeah, Spike, forgot to mention. She’s IN TOWN!” Angel took a step back as vampire and slayer moved in unison towards him, each glaring with the intensity to start fires. “I thought it was best --” he began. “You thought it was best?!” Buffy repeated. “Since when have you been the person to decide what is best for me, Angel?” she demanded. “You gave up that right when I was still a teenager, but apparently you still think I’m that naïve little girl.” “Buffy, no—” But he was cut off again. “You knew how much I was hurting and he was here the whole time?” Spike blinked. Buffy had been hurting? Some of his anger faded at the unconscious admission that she had mourned his death. He had wondered if she had cared that he was gone, and now he knew. “I’ve been here several days now and you didn’t tell me?” she shouted. “Did the others know as well? Did you rope them into hiding this ‘secret’ from me?” Buffy’s heart broke a tiny bit at the thought that Fred and Wesley and Gunn had not informed her of Spike’s presence. She had very quickly come to enjoy their company and to think that they had lied to her… “Days?” Spike did a double take. “You’ve been here for days? Here in LA?” “Yes!” Buffy fired back, diverting her anger from Angel to Spike. “And you! You couldn’t pick up a phone and let a girl know that you weren’t dead and possibly suffering eternal torment in a hell dimension?” “Buffy, I…” He trailed off. How could he tell her that he had been afraid to call in fear that she’d reject him? A shrill beeping sounded throughout the room. “What’s --” Spike began, looking confused at the interruption. “My beeper,” Buffy filled in. “If I hadn’t forgotten this I wouldn’t have come back and discovered you.” She turned her back on both vampires and moved over to the bench where the small black piece of plastic was vibrating away. Picking it up she checked the message, her expression softening yet becoming guilt ridden at the same time. “What is it?” Angel asked carefully, not wanting to promote her ire. “Is everything okay in England?” “It’s not Giles,” Buffy supplied quietly. “It’s Juan.” “Juan?” Spike repeated as his gaze narrowed. “Juan who?” Buffy sighed. “My boyfriend.” Both vampires looked at her in shock. She continued quietly as she clasped her beeper tightly in her hands. “I met him in Rome about a month ago and…” she trailed off when she caught herself justifying her actions. She didn’t need to justify herself. Buffy had been trying to move on and she didn’t owe either vampire an explanation, especially in light of this new discovery. “Juan who?” Spike demanded, his jealousy rising at the thought of his Buffy being with someone other than him. “You wouldn’t know him,” Buffy brushed off. “He’s an Immortal, some say the but I find that --” “The Immortal?” both Angel and Spike retorted incredulously. “You two know him?” she frowned. “You’re dating that ponce?” Spike answered sarcastically. “Buffy,” Angel beseeched. “Spike’s right, you can really do better than --” “Oh NO!” Buffy waved her hands in the air. “I am not going to stand around and be lectured by you two. If I wanted dating advice I’d…” “What’s with the ponce calling himself Juan now?” Spike snarked. “He used to just go by The Immortal back in the day.” “I call him that,” Buffy responded with a raised chin. “Excuse me for wanting to call my boyfriend by a name and not a ‘The’ title.” Spike tensed at the word boyfriend, a low growl escaping his lips. “Juan…” Angel voiced slowly as the name began to sink in. “As in Don Juan? The great lover?” The doors to the training room burst open as Harmony, followed by Lorne, walked in. “Angel, Buffy was… uh oh…” Harmony trailed off when she saw the red and angry faces of the three people in the room. “I’m just gonna go back to answering the phones.” Before anyone could object, she turned and rushed back out through the door. “Who died in this room?” Lorne quipped, trying to lighten the mood. When the three rolled their eyes and looked at the demon as if to say ‘I did’ he laughed nervously. “Oh-kay then maybe I should skedaddle on outta here. Angel-cakes, I’ll drop a line later on when you’re not looking to get beaten up by someone.” “No need to leave, Lorne,” Buffy responded quickly. “I was just going.” ”Buffy, wait…” Spike called but Buffy was already sprinting out of the training room. He whirled on Angel, his eyes flickering golden as the demon within raged to be set free. “You hypocritical son of a…” His fist was flying through the air before he finished his sentence, blood pouring from Angel’s nose as a result of the brutal contact. Angel returned the blow with equal ferocity. Inching back quietly, Lorne made his way for the door. The emotion in that room had been tangible and the look on Buffy’s face when she had run out of there had been one of heartbreak, betrayal and relief all at once. If Lorne knew people, and he did, he knew that Buffy wouldn’t want to be alone. She might even want someone with objectivity to talk to. Decided, he turned, walked out of the training room and towards reception. ~~~ Buffy’s chest was heaving when she got to the bottom of the stairs, not having been willing to stand around and wait for the elevator to stop at her floor. The concrete of the wall was cool against her skin when she leaned up against it, her flesh still damp from her earlier workout. Spike was alive… “Spike’s alive,” she verbally repeated, the concept still sounding foreign to her ears. But it was true. She had seen him, heard him, felt his skin beneath her fist. That familiar tingle had run up her spine the moment she had stepped into that training room. The scent of cigarette’s, leather and whiskey that was unmistakably Spike had enveloped her. There was no denying it. Spike is alive… An anguished cry broke from Buffy’s lips as her arms came to wrap around her torso. She crumpled in on herself, sliding down the wall until she was a small heap on the ground. Her shoulders shook from the force of her now vocal cries, tears gushing from her eyes and running down her cheeks. Seeing him in there brought back all of the memories of him being gone. She remembered how she had grieved him, how she had internalized her feelings when in the presence of her friends, but had broken down each night when she was reminded of her loss. Buffy had never been that good at lying so it didn’t take long for her friends to see through the charade. Giles had told her it would take time but eventually she would be okay. He was right and lately she had been healing. Juan had also helped with that. And once more she found herself wracked with guilt. The steel of the door she had just walked through squeaked as someone else exited into the parking lot. Buffy wiped harshly at her eyes as she lifted herself to her feet. “Oh there you are cupcake,” Lorne greeted warmly when he rounded the corner of the stairwell and found Buffy trying to brush away the evidence of her crying. Without another word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the miniscule blond. Buffy stiffened before allowing herself to relax. The sobs began again and Lorne’s hand patted gently at her back, humming softly in an attempt to sooth her wounded heart. A moment later Buffy extracted herself, once again brushing away her tears. “I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I don’t normally…” “Honey, no need to say another word. It’s not everyday a wish comes true,” he stated knowingly. Buffy blinked in surprise, her brow furrowing at Lorne’s insight. “But how did --” “Crumb-cake, I can read you like a book,” he smiled. “You should be happy. You got your guy back.” Her face fell. Spike wasn’t her guy. Her guy was waiting for her back in England. Catching sight of the scarring on her hand, she traced over it before she slowly lifted her gaze. “My guy is thousands of miles away in London. Spike is…” she trailed off. “Yours,” Lorne said simply. “That boy has done nothing but drink himself silly thinking about you.” Buffy clenched her jaw. She hadn’t known he was alive, that he was back, so it was understandable that she was shocked by his presence. What was his excuse? He had been back for how long now and he hadn’t thought to contact her? “He could have contacted me, let me know.” Lorne shook his head. “No, he couldn’t. And I’m not just talking about the lock on the file containing your contact details. He was afraid of how you’d react.” “How I’d react?” Buffy snapped incredulously. She was extremely agitated by Angel’s persistence in trying to ‘do what’s best for her’. It seemed that in his eyes she was still a little girl that needed to be protected. Angel, she could understand—no not understand, had expected. He had always treated her that way. She didn’t like it and she was definitely going to have words with him—likely with fists involved—but Spike? Why would he not try and contact her? Buffy inhaled a deep breath to take control of her emotions before she continued. “I would have been thrilled. It was all I—” she rolled her eyes when she realized she was using his earlier words, “…dreamed about. But now, it’s too late.” “Do you really believe that?” She shrugged her shoulders slowly. “I’ve gotta go.” She pointed at Morty’s limo. “Thanks for the shoulder.” Lorne watched the young woman walk away. “Any time.” ~~~ Eve stepped out from the shadows of the parking lot and smiled. So it was done… they each knew of the other’s presence, and without the need of her planned meeting. That made it all that much sweeter. Now all she and Lindsey had to do was sit back and watch Angel’s world collapse around him. ~~~ Spike’s hands flew out to brace himself as he was thrown towards one of the mirrors. A snarl curled his lips as he turned and lunged towards Angel. He was seeing red, and it wasn’t just from the blood that was dribbling down his forehead, marring his vision. Angel had known how much he had been hurting—how much he had wanted to go to her, to speak to her. She had been here for days now and what had the son of a bitch done? Nothing. Hid her presence from him. Judging by what Buffy had said, he wasn’t the only one being kept in the dark. “WHY?” he demanded when he was once again thrown after landing a few solid punches. Angel wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, staring at the blood that stained it. “She deserves better.” “Like you!?” Spike spat in anger. “Or per’aps you were talkin’ about the Immortal.” The growl that slipped from Angel’s mouth was not dissimilar to Spike’s when that little tidbit had first been divulged. “I didn’t know about that. If I had I wou--” “Would ‘ave what?” Spike taunted. “Flown over to jolly ol’ England and whisked her off her feet?” Angel sighed, rubbing at his forehead as he tried to clear his mind, an action that only caused the spilled blood to smear even further. “I didn’t want this for her.” “You think I did? She’d be better off with Captain Cardboard.” Angel laughed despite himself. “So what do we do now?” “We?” Spike lifted a brow. “WE do nothing. Me on the other hand, I’m going to get my girl back.” Before Angel could object, Spike had drug himself up from the ground and swept out of the room. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: I Hope it was worth the wait! Feedback as always would be appreciated.

Chapter #9 - Clearing the Mind.

Thank you Megan for betaing! Chapter 9: Clearing the Mind. Spike’s search brought him to the W&H basement but that’s where her scent died. Buffy was long gone. Knowing that there wasn’t a whole lot of searching he could do whilst the sun was still out, he slipped into the sewer system and headed towards his apartment. Place needs a tidy up; it’s in no condition for a visit from a lady… He almost laughed at his train of thought. He’d known she was here for less than an hour and it hadn’t exactly been the reunion he had fantasized about, yet here he was expecting that she’d be paying a visit to his pathetic excuse for a dwelling. It’s a step up from the crypt… his inner voice commented, to which he rolled his eyes. He continued his trudging through the muck as he moved towards his apartment. At sunset he was going to find the girl. ~~~ Buffy had arrived back at her hotel room about fifteen minutes earlier, her intent having been to finish off her paperwork so that there would be one less thing keeping her in LA. She would find Dana, have her sedated for the trip back to London and get on the earliest flight back home. Avoidance much? The blinking red light of her answering machine caught her attention and she stalked towards the phone, her anger at Angel still simmering beneath the surface. She pressed the play button to listen to the recorded messages. BEEP! “Hey Buffy, it’s Will. How’s LA?” Buffy smiled at her friend’s chirpy tone. Maybe talking to Willow would help sort out her thoughts about the whole Spike being alive issue. And she still had Juan to-- BEEP! “Babe, it’s J. Why haven’t you called?” She closed her eyes as she listened to the rest of his message, the smooth tone of his voice not calming her raging mind as it used to. All she felt when she listened to her boyfriend speak now, was guilt. Guilt because she had barely spared him a thought the entire time she had been in LA, her thoughts more often than not drifting to a certain blond vampire whom she had thought to be dead. And now that she knew he was alive? She hadn’t stopped thinking about him yet. BEEP! “Buffy, it’s Andrew, watcher in training calling. Just informing you that the school is missing you, oh great one. I’m calling to ask permission for disciplinary reasons. Faith showed me this neat trick with the ropes and --” Buffy frowned at the muffled sounds she heard and waited patiently for him to continue. “By Gandalf, I’ve been discovered! I shall await your return call on this issue.” “Andrew, what are you doing in my office?” Andrew gasped and the message ended halfway through an excuse. Buffy shook her head, laughing softly to herself when she heard the irritation in Giles’s voice. She could always count on Andrew to do or say something that would brighten her mood, even if only slightly. BEEP! “Buffy, it’s Angel. I’m just calling to apologize, for not tell--” Buffy slammed her finger on the delete button before he finished his spiel, her semi good mood evaporating instantly. She knew he was sorry but she couldn’t help but feel that he was only apologizing because he was caught out. What if she hadn’t forgotten her beeper this afternoon? She never would have even realized that Spike was back from the dead. The machine informed her that she had no more messages and Buffy slumped down onto the soft coverlet of her bed. She curled herself into a little ball in the middle of the massive king sized bed, drawing a pillow to her chest and hugging it tightly as she closed her eyes, praying that sleep would claim her. If she was going on a hunt for Dana tonight, she was going to need her mind to be clear and refreshed. ~~~ Buffy woke several hours later feeling no more refreshed than before her nap. Night had recently blanketed the city and she knew she should probably be out looking for Dana, but considering the shock she had had thrust upon her today, she wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind for any sort of patrolling. She was just as likely get herself hurt or killed, her mind was so muddled. Patrolling whilst deep in thought, not of the good. Besides, Angel’s firm was paying for her accommodation anyway, why not make the bill a little larger? So tonight, Buffy was going out. Showering quickly she dressed in a little black dress—or LBD—pinned her hair up in a messy chignon and applied some makeup. Her eyes were darkly rimmed with eyeliner; thick mascara coated her lashes and a pale gloss was applied to her lips. She twirled in front of the full-length mirror and once she was satisfied with her appearance, grabbed her purse, making sure the card key for her room was inside it before she left. The lift delivered her to the lobby and she blushed at the appraising look she received from the guy standing at the reception desk—Danny, if she remembered his name correctly. “Evening, Miss Summers,” he practically purred at her. Buffy smiled politely as she walked past him and out through the front entrance of the hotel. A valet signaled a taxi for her. They exchanged small talk as the vehicle slowly crawled up the road and in mere moments she found herself on the way to what was apparently the hottest new club in LA Denim, at the recommendation of the attendant. ~~~ Angel paced his office, throwing the occasional glance over his shoulder at the ornate clock on the wall. Buffy should have reported in over an hour ago and she wasn’t answering his calls. Making a decision, he reached for the telephone and dialed the number of her hotel. “Good evening --” Angel interrupted before the male receptionist even had the opportunity to finish his introduction. “I’ve been trying to contact a guest you have there and there’s been no answer. Can you tell me if she’s still in the hotel?” “I’m sorry, Sir, but that information is confidential. If you would like to leave a voicemail message I’m sure your friend will call you back when--” “This is Mr. Angel calling from Wolfram and Hart,” Angel introduced purposefully, knowing the power the firms name held. Especially considering they represented the owner of the hotel. “Mr. Angel, I d-do apologize,” came the stuttered response. “The name of the guest you’re trying to contact?” “Buffy Summers.” “Oh! Miss Summers has left for the evening already,” he responded, remembering clearly the short little black number she had been wearing. “I think she was going to a bar.” “A bar?” Angel repeated in confusion. “Thank you…” “Danny,” the attendant offered. “Danny,” Angel repeated before disconnecting the call. Obviously Buffy wouldn’t be making an appearance at the firm this evening. With a crinkled brow, he walked towards the private elevator to his apartment. He would leave another message on her machine later on. If Buffy wanted a night off he would give her space. Tonight. Tomorrow would be a different story… ~~~ Spike hit the streets a little later than he had planned, having spent far too much time mulling over his clothing selection for the evening. He was going to find Buffy tonight and speak to her. And he wanted to make sure he looked just right. He growled as he remembered the fact that she had a boyfriend, quickly brushing it away. She was here in LA and the ponce who had dared to touch his Goldilocks was on the other side of the globe. Buffy had said they had met last month, so it wasn’t likely all that serious, and if he had any say in the matter it wouldn’t be much of anything by the end of the night. He was going to find her and remind her of that vow she had made on the Hellmouth. She had told him she loved him then and he didn’t believe that her feelings could have dissipated completely. And if they had waned, well he would just remind her of why she had loved him. A scream pierced the night and Spike took off in its direction. ~~~ Buffy sipped the remnants of her cocktail only to find another one placed in front of her. At her quizzical look directed at the bartender he pointed towards a sandy haired guy tall enough to be a basketball player. The generous giant offered her a little wave. Tilting her head in thanks, she lifted the glass in a silent ‘cheers’ and tasted it. Obviously having taken her smile as a way in, the tall stranger ambled towards her. Sliding into the seat next to her he offered his hand. “Tyler Benson; twenty-seven, professional basketballer, art admirer and dog lover. Available and hoping,” he added with a smile. Buffy accepted his hand, squeezing it lightly as she introduced herself. “Buffy Summers; twenty-three, high school guidance counselor, movie buff – no pun intended,” she smiled politely, “– and also a dog lover. Not available.” Tyler laughed good-naturedly. “The good ones are always taken. Your boyfriend is…?” He looked around in question. “In London,” she supplied. “I’m here on business for a couple of days. “And he let you come by yourself?” he inquired with a raised brow. Buffy frowned, retracting her hand from his grasp. “I can look after myself.” “I’m sure you can,” he agreed, shrugging apologetically. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just… if you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.” Another Riley… she thought idly. At her silence, Tyler continued. “I’m sorry, if you’d prefer I left you alone…” He pointed over his shoulder at the other end of the bar. “No, it’s fine,” Buffy assured. “Some company might be nice.” Tyler smiled brightly, clinking his glass against hers before drinking. “Bottoms up!” ~~~ Spike dusted the last vampire, brushing the dusty remains from his black t-shirt. It had been the third attack on his way to Buffy’s hotel. Now that the secret of her presence was out it hadn’t been difficult to weasel the location of where she was staying out of Lorne. In fact, the green skinned demon had seemed almost smug in his telling of her hotel. If only he could get there without another interruption. RING! RING! “Soddin’ hell,” he cursed towards the heavens. His cell phone vibrated against his hip and he ripped it out of his pocket and flipped it open, his annoyance in his tone very clear. “What d’you want, Doyle?” Laughter sounded on the other end of the line. “Someone’s cheerful tonight?!” “You have a bleedin’ point to this chit-chat?” “Alright, no small talk, that’s fine,” Lindsey said with a smile in his voice. “I just had a vision. A girl is going to get herself into a spot of trouble at a new nightclub that’s opened up in town. Nothing super natural, but the guy is going to try and get fresh with her and she ain’t interested if you catch my drift. You being the hero should probably check it out.” “This club got a name?” Spike asked in irritation. Just what he needed, something else to keep him from getting to Buffy’s hotel. It was as if the whole world was plotting against him. “Denim. It’s a couple of blocks south of Hollywood Blvd.” Lindsey paused. “And Spike, hurry.” Flipping the phone closed and effectively disconnecting the call, Spike began moving south in the opposite direction of Buffy, cursing his luck. But he refused to give up. Before it had been acceptable for him to think of going to her and then not following through, firstly because he couldn’t thanks to being tied to W&H, and secondly because he was too afraid of how she’d react. Well that first reaction had come and gone, and now that he knew she was in town, within reaching distance, it was going to take more than a couple of interruptions to keep him from his girl. My girl… If he had anything to say about it, that’s just what she’d be. ~~~ Lindsey slipped his cell phone into his pocket. “It’s done.” “Excellent,” Eve purred as she slid across the satin sheets and crawled up his body, her negligee clad body hovering over the tented sheet. “Danny has been quite helpful these last couple of days. Keeping tabs on the Slayer’s movements. Perhaps I should reward his efforts?” Lindsey gripped Eve’s hips possessively, pulling her firmly against him. “I’ll double his fee; you will be offering no rewards.” “Of course, baby,” she purred. “Now we beep Tyler and let him know the ball’s rolling, and we’ve got the rest of the night for us.” ~~~ The glass slipped from Buffy’s fingers before she even realized, smashing into a million pieces on the floor. “Oops!” she giggled. She had just finished her sixth? Or was it seventh…. cocktail. It seemed that Buffy and alcohol were still an un-mixy combination and she should probably be slowing down her consumption. But the warm tingle she felt in her belly that signaled that her intoxication was growing, had almost completely washed away her earlier upset and she liked that very much. Tyler laughed along with her when he felt a buzzing sensation against his hip. Unclasping his beeper he read the message quickly before re-attaching the device to his belt. Buffy pouted. “You’re leaving?” “No, you are,” he grinned. “Dance floor now, before the bartender alerts security about your drunkenness and tries to throw you out.” Buffy laughed, feeling more light-hearted than she had in weeks as she was steered onto the dance floor. Tyler’s hold on her was a little tighter than necessary but Buffy was glad for the assistance, knowing that she would be swaying slightly if he let her go. Her partner looked towards the entrance of the club, catching a flash of bleached hair and knowing that now was time for the show to begin. His demeanor changed instantaneously, his gentle touch becoming aggressive as he groped at her chest with one hand whilst using the other to force her body against his. Buffy instantly began struggling… ~~~ Spike stepped inside the club and scanned the place for a girl in trouble. It was still relatively early in the night, not even midnight yet which meant the club was barely half full. It would make spotting the girl in question relatively easy. All he had to do was sit back and wait for the silly git to make his move. Moving closer to the dance floor, he didn’t have to wait all that long. A blond girl in a black dress so sort it should be illegal, was struggling with her dance partner. From the way she swayed on her feet when she pulled herself out of his grasp, he gauged that she was obviously drunk. Striding towards the pair, Spike yanked the guy by the back of his collar and pulled him away from the girl. “It’s alright,” he reassured. “He won’t touch…” His words died on his lips when the girl lifted her head up, confused hazel eyes peering out from beneath a curtain of blond. “Buffy?” ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N Hope you guys like! ::runs and hides::

Chapter #10 - Accommodating.

A/N: Okay, firstly BIG *hugs* and thanks to Megan for her fantastic (as always) betaing. Secondly... Gah! I'm a little nervous about posting this chapter. It's the first scene of this nature that I've written. Feedback as always would most definitely be appreciated, I just ask that you be gentle! Ok enough rambling from me... on to the chapter! Chapter 10: Accommodating. Spike’s initial disgust with the guy turned to blind fury, his face reflexively vamping as he whirled on the stranger who had been pawing at his girl. His demon reveled for a few seconds in the way the man shrank backwards at the sight of his true face before his fist came flying through the air, knuckle crunching against nose. Blood instantly began pouring from the shattered nasal passage, his left hand closing around the guy’s throat and squeezing. “You ever so much as LOOK at this girl again, I’ll kill you,” he snarled. “Understand me mate?” Tyler shrank back in fear as he struggled to breath through his constricted throat. He nodded quickly, gasping for breath. “Alright!” Spike shoved him away. Tyler stumbled once before finding his feet and bolting out of the nightclub. Eve hadn’t said the dude was a vampire… if he’d known that fact he never would have agreed to this in the first place. Spike’s face shifted into human form as he turned around to face Buffy, reaching for her arm and drawing her close to him. “Buffy, are you all right?” he questioned worriedly. “I’m fine,” she retorted as she pulled her hand away from him. “I need a drink.” “No you bloody well don’t!” he growled. Before she could make a move otherwise, Spike grabbed her by the wrist and began dragging her towards the exit. Buffy struggled against him for the first few feet before stumbling and then clinging to his arm with her other hand to steady herself, following him sedately through the doors and into the night. He continued dragging her like that until they were a block away from the club where he finally let her arm go. “What the bleedin’ hell were you doing in there?” he demanded. “I had a few drinks, it’s no big deal.” “No big deal?” he repeated in shock. “NO BIG DEAL?” he roared the second time. “In that… scrap of a dress? Are you even wearing anythin’ under it, cos it sure as hell don’t look like it!” “You wanna frisk me?” she replied tartly, her left hand coming to rest on her cocked hip. Spike closed his eyes as he tried unsuccessfully to block the images that those words conjured. Thinking of the situation he had found her in inside that club cleared them away quick smart. “I don’t care if you’re a bloody slayer, wearing somethin’ like that and getting’ yourself plastered is askin’ for trouble.” “I’m not plastered,” Buffy defended as she took a step towards him, stumbling slightly. “I’m happy.” “Happy?” His tone was incredulous. “You sure you don’t mean horny? What, you missin’ your boy already? Didn’t take you for one who’d look for an accomodatin’ fellow to scratch an itch jus’ cos you won’t be seein’ your lover for a couple a days.” Buffy’s fist shot towards Spike’s head but it was slower than normal-- due to her intoxication-- and Spike easily deflected it. “You were dead, Spike,” she spat out angrily. “What was I supposed to do, stay celibate the rest of my life because I couldn’t have you?” Spike’s expression blanked for a moment at her confession that she had wanted him, in that way. Then her word choice came back to slap him in the face. “You slept with that Ponce?” “Of course I did, boyfriend, duh!” She rolled her eyes, both at his question and at her own word choice. Living in a school of girls was obviously rubbing off on her. She turned to walk away from him. Spike grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her flush against him. “You’re too good for him,” he spoke gently, in contrast to the iron grip he held on her wrists. Buffy wriggled against him in an attempt to free herself. Her movements elicited a groan from Spike and her eyes went wide as she looked up to see his fluttering closed. When his grasp on her wrists relaxed, Buffy pressed herself against him more firmly and wriggled again, this time with intent. Her hips smashed against his forcefully as she rolled them in a circle against his crotch. A thrill rolled over her when she felt his cock harden almost instantly, straining against the denim of his jeans and pressing against her. Spike gasped at the intimate contact, his eyes blinking open when her hips rubbed against him for a third time. He looked into her eyes and that was what ruined the fantasy for him. Her eyes were glazed as a result of her drinking. The feelings she was eliciting from him, both physical and emotional, was more than he could ever have hoped for-- but he couldn’t do it like this. Not when she could chalk it all up to a moment of weakness. Grasping her by her shoulders, he gently pushed her away from him. Confusion swirled in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” “Buffy… I can’t let you do…” He trailed off, inhaling deeply before continuing. “You’re drunk and I couldn’t take advantage of --” “Take advantage? You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” she accused. Although she was intoxicated, she was well aware of what she had been doing. Spike had been taken from her right when she realized how much he meant to her and how much she wanted him. And now here he was and the liquor in her system had bolstered her confidence. He’d gone and ruined that now, though. “You’re both the same! You and Angel, always deciding what’s best for me instead of letting me make my OWN decisions.” She jabbed a finger into his chest before flouncing away. “Where the bleedin’ hell do you think you’re going,” he demanded as he followed her, infuriated at being compared to Peaches. “To find an ‘accomodatin’ fellow’,” she threw over her shoulder. “You seem to think I’m some sort of tart and hell, I’m drunk enough. I’d better go find myself a bed to share before all the good ones get snapped up.” Spike grabbed her by her shoulders again and whirled her around, crushing her against him. “No you bloody well will not!” “And you’re going to stop me how?” she argued, making a show of trying to pull herself out of his grasp. Spike reflexively held her more tightly and once more she was squirming against his hips. He groaned again, his cock standing to attention like the deprived little bugger it was. His mind was telling him that this was wrong, that he should be getting her back to her hotel to sleep off her drunken state, but his body was demanding more friction. When she leant in towards him and her pebbled nipples brushed across his chest, he was lost. His lips swooped down to claim hers in a hungry kiss, which Buffy returned with equal fervor. Her lips parted to allow entrance for his insistent tongue. They each fought for dominance as their tongues dueled. Buffy’s arms snaked around Spike’s neck as she jumped into his arms. His left arm wrapped around her body and held her tightly against him whilst his right hand slid the length of her golden thigh and disappeared beneath the skirt of her dress. His fingers danced over the scrap of material at her hip that she obviously considered underwear, before moving to map the curve of her ass. He could smell her arousal and feel her moistness seeping through the denim. The heat from her quim was searing and he thrust against her, wanting that heat to consume him. Buffy ground her hips against the denim-clothed erection that was pressing against her centre, moaning in pleasure at the sensation. All thoughts of London, of Juan, of Dana left her mind as she sought more friction. The world consisted of her and Spike and nothing else mattered. The appeal soon wore off, however, when her need for more intimate contact intensified. Her right hand uncurled at his neck before popping the top button of jeans and then attacking the zipper, desperate fingers diving through the opening. She shouldn’t have been surprised at finding him commando, but she was. She hesitated for a second before her nimble fingers wrapped around his rock hard erection, her grasp tightening as she began a pumping action. Up down, up down, up down – his pre-cum quickly began coating her fingers. Spike tore his lips from Buffy’s, a throaty gasp ripping from his lungs as he stared at her in wonderment. His knees quivered as a result of her ministrations and he stumbled forwards, burying his head in her neck as his right hand reaching out to brace them against the wall in the dark alleyway. It was the feel of the cool bricks beneath his palm that reminded him where they were. Oh yesss… his body sang. “Buffy no, not here. We can’t… you deserve…” He gasped in pleasure, all thoughts of arguing flying right out of his head when her thumb rubbed the head of his cock on the upstroke. “Spike, I need this,” Buffy pleaded, claiming his lips in a desperate, hurried kiss. She peeled herself away long enough to reaffirm her words, making sure he was looking at her when she said them. “I need you.” Spike could see the certainty in her eyes; hear the plea in her voice and a part of him wished he were strong enough to resist her. He wanted to do this right, in a bed with candles and music and everything a girl, a woman like Buffy deserved. Not up against a brick wall in an alleyway in LA. But he didn’t have that strength. God, the smell of her arousal was intoxicating and he was quickly becoming drunk on it. With her legs locked around his hips, she wasn’t in any danger of falling. Right hand still bracing them against the wall he used his left to push the filmy material of her thong to the side. Using his fingers he parted her nether lips, a shiver of pleasure rolling through her body as he stroked her once, twice. Buffy whimpered in need, pressing herself down on his fingers. Spike kissed her fiercely before stealing away, cerulean blue eyes locking with her hazel ones. The corners of her lips curled up into a smile and that was when he acted, thrusting into her searing heat in one, fast movement. Oh god… they thought as one. “Buffy,” Spike breathed in awe. Spike’s knees nearly crippled beneath him and he leaned more heavily against the brick wall, his body quivering in pleasure. He groaned in satisfaction as he withdrew from her slick channel at a languorous pace before thrusting into her again. He felt like he was home… Buffy released a breathy cry, her back arching instinctively to accommodate his size. The simple movement allowed him to plunge into her more deeply and they both sighed in carnal satisfaction. “Oh, Spike!” Spike’s pace was slow as his thrusting found rhythm, wanting to make this last yet knowing it probably wouldn’t. Aside from the failed quickie attempt with Harmony when he first became corporeal after months of being a ghost, he had been celibate since the last time he’d been with Buffy. That was the weekend that Captain Cardboard came back from his jungle trip. His only comfort since then—apart from that alcohol fuelled tryst that one night with Anya—had come from his left hand and it had nothing on Buffy. He’d had to fight not to blow his load the second he was ensconced within her, the clenching of her inner muscles pumping his cock even more expertly than her hand. He wanted this to be good for her, wanted to give her as much pleasure as she was giving him. Buffy whimpered in pitiful need at his lazy pace, rolling her hips insistently and speeding up the pace of their coupling. Her hands tangled in his hair, transforming the slicked back do into a mass of unruly curls as she used her leg strength to pull his hips towards her more speedily. Her lips found his, devouring the plump flesh of his bottom lip, sucking and nibbling before she forced her tongue into his mouth. He greedily accepted. She sighed in contentment when she felt his thrusting speed up to meet hers, seemingly having abandoned any attempt to keep the pace as languid as it had begun. “Buffy, love…” Spike panted as he met her pace. At the rate they were moving, he wasn’t going to last much longer. Spike had tried to fight against her persistence but her frenzied movements were not something he could ignore, not when her pussy was clenching his cock so tightly. Determined that she walk away from this satisfied, the fingers of his left hand moved from her hip to her sex. They tangled in the downy soft hair covering her sex before they found her the small nub of her clitoris. With his thumb and forefinger he squeezed, all the while thrusting in and out of her slick heat. Buffy gasped, feeling the knot of tension building within her belly intensify, his nimble fingers bringing her closer to climax. The dual pressure from his cock inside her and the ministrations of his fingers on her clit, promised one hell of an orgasm. This felt right, so right. “So goooood…” she purred, a moment later gasping as a bolt of pleasure shot right through her. “Nyyaah!” The clenching of her pussy walls was milking him closer to his own climax and he desperately fought against it, wanting her release before his own. The movement of his fingers became more frenetic as his thrusting became more deliberate, each stroke long and hard. Buffy’s shoulders grazed up against the brick wall, the slight pain as the stone bit into her skin only spurring her further. She bucked against his hips, riding him with all of the energy she could muster. She knew Spike was close when he began babbling nonsensically. Now the only words escaping his lips was the repeated mantra of her name, over and over again as his hips bucked up to meet hers. “Spike! Oooh, Spike!” Buffy chanted before whimpering with need. “Come for me, love,” Spike pleaded as his attentions on her sex became more deliberate. When he pinched her clit a second time Buffy hit the peak of her pleasure, a keening wail of satisfaction tearing from her throat as she rode the waves back down to earth. The clenching of her inner walls when she orgasmed brought forth Spike’s own release, a strangled cry breaking from his mouth and ripping through the night as he spilled his cold seed inside of her. Buffy’s chest was heaving erratically as she gasped for breath, her heart racing from the exertion of their coupling. When she felt Spike’s knees quiver again she slowly unwrapped her thighs from his hips, moaning at the loss of contact when her movement separated their joined appendages. She slid down his body until her heeled feet hit the pavement, nervously running her hands to smooth imaginary creases in her dress before looking up to meet Spike’s gaze. The emotion she saw in his eyes, the utter devotion and awe as he stared at her as if she was the most breath-taking creature on earth, completely floored her. After all this time he still… She fidgeted under the intensity of his gaze. Spike reached forward, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as he leaned in to find her lips. The kiss was gentle and soft, his tongue slowly licking the line of her plum bottom lip. He crushed his lips to hers, making no attempt to deepen the kiss as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body once more. Buffy giggled when the kiss broke, Spike tilting his head to the side in question. “Again already?” She looked down pointedly at his re-stiffening cock, her fingers ghosting over the head and causing him to flinch in response. “Not here,” Spike growled, the bright smile a contradiction to his tone. Grabbing her wandering hand he locked their fingers together, using his free hand to tuck himself back inside his jeans before he carefully slid the zipper upwards. “My place,” he suggested, his confidence that she would come with him suddenly wavering. At her quick nod his smile returned and he led her out of the alleyway and towards his place, thanking whatever the gods for bringing Buffy to LA. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Well... there you have it. *hides*

Chapter #11 - Little Green Monsters.

A/N: BIG thanks to Megan for betaing. Chapter 11: Little Green Monsters. Buffy felt her inner walls clench as an orgasm ripped through her body. She screamed out her release in a long keening wail, her nails clawing deep channels into Spike’s back. The vampire in question reached his own climax seconds after Buffy, a guttural growl escaping his lips as he thrust into her one, two, three more times before collapsing bonelessly on top of her. A giggle escaped Buffy’s lips when she used the momentary reprieve to survey her surroundings. The bedroom was Spartan. Apart from the bedside table and small single bed, not much else occupied space. Excusing the clothing that now littered the apartment floor, it was also relatively clean, which was a little surprising. Spike hadn’t exactly been known for his hygiene when it came to the crypt. “Find somethin’ amusing, pet?” Spike queried when he finally lifted his head from Buffy’s naked breast. After making it back to his apartment in record time, they had wasted no time in depriving each other of clothing, before finding any and every surface to lay themselves upon or against. Conversation had been bypassed as their need to feel, to be with each other had taken over. After making use of the kitchen counter, the sofa and the living room floor, they had finally made their way to the bedroom. It was on the small bed that they currently found themselves ready to take some time. “This bed,” Buffy giggled again. “It’s just so small.” “Well I never had the company that would require anything larger,” he said wryly. “The one time th--” He cut himself off before the words were completely out of his mouth, but he knew Buffy must’ve figured what he was talking about when he felt her tense beneath him. “The one time what?” she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. “Nothin’,” Spike mumbled. Buffy shifted beneath him until Spike rolled off from on top of her and moved to her side. “The one time what?” she repeated with more insistence. Spike tensed in preparation for the inevitable response his admission would surely cause. Once more he mentally cursed his seeming lack of control over his mouth, sure it mustn’t be properly wired to his brain else he wouldn’t constantly slip up so many times. “The one time I almost—” He struggled to find the words to put it delicately, but came up seriously lacking. “Well, you know.” “I don’t think I do,” Buffy replied in a huff. Anger was slowly simmering and it would only take a few careless word choices for her to explode. It was understandable that he would move on with his life, she had, but she hadn’t blatantly thrown that fact in his face. The nagging voice of reason in the back of her mind that told her that she had no right to become angered by his soon to be heard admission, was quite brutally being stamped down by a little green monster. Spike rolled off the bed and put some distance between them, just to be safe. He began pacing the room, headless of his naked status. From the corner of his eye he saw Buffy sitting up in the bed, sheeting wrapped tightly around her torso as her eyes followed his movement. “The day I became solid, fleshy – all corporeal-like,” he began as he fisted his hands by his side, stalling in his movement across the room. “Well I’d been all ghostly for months and I--” “Jumped the first random piece of ass that walked by?” She’d been trying to reign in her temper, trying to quash the unsettling feelings that were growing in the pit of her stomach, but it hadn’t exactly been easy. Ever since the body-swap with Faith back in freshman year of college, Buffy had found that it didn’t take so much to cause jealousy to rear it ugly head. And she didn’t like the thought of Spike getting his rocks off with some random female the day he became human—vampire again. “NO, I bloody well did not!” Spike exploded in anger, his pacing resuming. “The first thing I thought to do was come to you.” “Then why didn’t you?” Her voice was quiet, almost afraid of his answer. Buffy’s original anger had subsided when the voice of reason slugged the green monster, and reminded her that she was more in the wrong here. Doing something she had sworn when her parent’s marriage had broken she would never do; cheat on a partner. “Couldn’t,” was his simple response. “Didn’t know how you’d react and really didn’t fancy gettin’ my nose broke again.” At Buffy’s puzzled expression, he continued, “Oh don’t tell me you wouldn’t have been mad. Hit first, ask questions later. That’s always been your way.” “How I’d react?” Memories of her conversation with Lorne in the parking lot came to mind. “I would have been thrilled, I would have…” She trailed off. “What?” he urged, desperately in need to hear whatever she had been about to say. “Do you know that I cried for you?” she asked, the question rhetorical. “I mourned your death like Xander mourned Anya’s.” “Anya didn’t make it?” Spike said quietly. He hadn’t known that little fact and it became one more thing added to the list of things he was going to hit Peaches for. He and Anya hadn’t exactly been close, but she had been a decent person—when she wasn’t dishing out vengeance that is. “She died in the school,” Buffy informed softly. “Protecting Andrew’s life of all things.” Spike chuckled half-heartedly before his expression sobered. She had to know how much he cared about her, how much this meant to him. “Buffy, I --” Once more he was cut off. “I missed you,” Buffy admitted, her eyes filling with tears. “So much. So much it felt like my heart was never going to recover.” She laughed sarcastically now as she remembered her unsuccessful attempts to remove all memories and thought of Spike from her mind. Spike closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds, the small bed dipping when he sat down beside her. Tentatively his right hand found her left, fingers interlocking until their hands were pressed palm to palm. A jolt of electricity burst up his arm when their matching scars brushed against each other, sending a flood of warmth to his heart. They were two halves to a set, he and Buffy were. And he would spend the rest of his un-life showing her just how perfect they were together. Buffy’s chest heaved once, twice as she inhaled deeply before continuing. “I spent my days keeping myself busy with training of the girls and setting up the school and at nights I threw myself into patrol. Anything and everything to keep busy. Because when I stopped…” A lonely tear slid down her left cheek. “I felt like I was dying. I should have been rejoicing, no more Sunnydale Hellmouth to worry about. But I wasn’t, not even close. I even went to Willow about a spell.” At this Spike frowned. He knew from past experience that spells designed to alter emotions were dangerous and he didn’t like thinking that Buffy had felt so desperate, so hollow, that she had resorted to that. “And what’d Red do?” he asked when she didn’t continue after a few moments. “What do you think?” Buffy shook her head. “She refused. Offered me a shoulder to cry on, promised nights of girly fun but refused to perform the spell for me.” Spike made a silent promise to thank the witch. “I tried to bottle everything up but one day, a few months later, it all burst out. It scared the girls in the class that day—seeing me, their and I quote ‘bitch task-master of a trainer collapse into a puddle of tears like some sissy human,’ end quote.” At Spike’s frown she explained. “Cassidy, one of the older newly called slayers. Kinda like Faith, if she was hopped up on sugar 24/7.” Spike blinked in surprise. Sounded like on hell of a scary girl. Dawn on a sugar high had been hard enough to handle. “Needless to say the guys decided it was time for me to take a vacation. So Xander, Willow, Kennedy, Dawn and myself spent a week in sunny Rome. All paid for with Council funds.” The bed shifted slightly and Buffy lifted her eyes to meet Spike’s, seeing the struggle to remain calm deep within those azure depths. He knew what was to come, what happened in Rome, and she also knew that he wasn’t a big supporter of her choice of bed partner. His nostrils flared at the mention of Rome. Spike knew what that meant and it was going to take all of his self control not to explode at her for the foolish decision she had made. When it seemed that she wasn’t going to address what she had alluded to, Spike felt the need to ask. “Why him?” It came out more abruptly than he had planned, but it couldn’t be helped. The fact that Buffy had even dated that… wanker, was hard to digest. “You do know he’s soulless, right?” Buffy nodded. “Yes, I know.” Confusion swept his chiseled features. “But… how could… you made such a big deal of not being with me when --” “I know,” she repeated her words. “It’s part of why I began dating him.” Buffy dropped her gaze to their interlocked hands, her thumb gently rubbing his back and forth. “I wasn’t ready for something serious, and if he’d had a soul I would have felt like I was betraying your memory.” A deep breath was inhaled before she continued. “It was just physical, something to numb the pain. And the funny thing is, it was working. I was getting over you, and then there you were—standing in Angel’s training room. Breaking my heart all over again.” Spike was trying to understand but he was still stuck back on the betraying his memory bit. Then his brain caught up with his ears and his expression cleared, his eyes becoming distant. “You shagged him?” he asked even though it was a question that had already been answered. At her nod he huffed in annoyance, but continued. “But you don’t…” he paused nervously before continuing, “you don’t love him?” “No,” Buffy said, a hint of a smile curling at her lips. Buffy knew why she was dating Juan--the Immortal. It was because he was safe. She didn't love him, so he couldn't hurt her. It was wrong to use him like that, she knew it. But she also knew that he wasn't exactly faithful either. That fact however didn't detract from the minimal guilt she felt right now. A soft sigh escaped his lips. “Well that’s something.” “Good something or bad something?” she queried nervously. “Good something,” he affirmed with a smile of his own, tugging on her hand until the other released its hold of the bed sheet and curled around his waist. Spike pulled her close to him, chest against chest, and forehead against forehead. “I love you, Buffy.” Buffy’s breath hitched in her throat, her lips seeking out his to resume in the kissing of earlier. Any ideas of continuing their discussion were abandoned the moment his tongue slid between her lips, dancing with hers in gentle seduction. Treating her as the most precious thing on earth, Spike lowered them gently to the bed, covering Buffy’s body with his own. His left hand trailed the length of her body from shoulder to thigh, the gentle tracings eliciting shivers from the goddess beneath him. She was truly beautiful and the fact that she didn’t seem to realize it astounded him on so many levels. Which is why he was planning on occupying her time for the rest of the day with showing her just how she affected him, how much he cared about her. She was his princess, his goddess, his love. Buffy was his match, his equal and each moment spent with her only convinced him of it further. Her sigh of contentment when his lips abandoned hers to move to her neck spurned him onwards. Spike nibbled and suckled the length of the column of silky skin, finding the pulse point and paying it extra attention, before dipping lower and into the valley of her breasts and making his intentions of going further south known when his wandering hand dipped beneath the sheets and settled between her thighs. Spike was going to show Buffy just how much he loved her as his worship of her body began. ~~~ Several hours later, feeling beyond sated, Buffy sat up in bed. Alone. After their last coupling they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, which is how Buffy had expected she would wake. But Spike was not to be seen. Momentary panic coursed her system before the sound of water spraying against tile and glass made its way to her ears. He’s in the shower… That little thought gave her all sorts of ideas, but she knew that if she walked into that bathroom she wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. And there were still things she needed to deal with. Sliding out of bed, she quickly moved about the small apartment and tracked down her missing clothing, dressing in record time. She cast a yearning look over her shoulder at the bedroom door and then further inwards towards that of the bathroom, and she hesitated. She didn't want to leave. But she knew that this was the right thing to do. She got half way to the door before she turned around and quickly moved to the kitchen counter. Grabbing the pen off the bench she quickly scrawled a note on a piece of scrap paper. Figuring that he would be hungry after their lengthy bed session, she stuck it to the fridge with a magnet. With determination, she turned away and moved towards the apartment door. It was time for some answers… ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Sorry for the delay, hope you guys like!

Chapter #12 - History Laid to Rest.

A/N: *Hugs* to Megan for betaing. Chapter 12: History Laid to Rest. Spike’s hands were pressed up against the cool tile of the shower stall, the warmth of the water heating his undead flesh. But it was in no way comparable to the feeling of heat that flooded his body when he was with her. With Buffy… His eyes blinked open and he turned in the small space, reaching for the taps and shutting off the water. He had woken a little over an hour ago, finding Buffy’s tiny form wrapped around his. And he had lain there watching her in wonder, still finding it surprising that she was here with him. In his bed. Spike had caressed her face, lovingly brushing an errant lock of hair from her face to be rewarded with a contented little sigh, a ghost of a smile curling her lips. Her heartbeat remained slow and steady and he knew he hadn’t woken her. He didn’t want to part from her—would have been content to lie as they were all day—but he really needed a shower before the sky darkened. He had every intention of accompanying her on patrol tonight. And the next night, and the night after that. He tried not to let the fact that she would be leaving in a few days trouble him, his strength coming from the belief that she would stay here, with him. Reaching for a towel, he wrapped it around his waist and walked out of the bathroom. The scent of sex was the first thing that flooded his sense of smell, his eyes involuntarily fluttering shut as he inhaled the aroma of her. He began speaking even before his eyes opened. “Buffy, love, time to wake up. It’s almost…” His eyes opened lazily, his jaw gaping slightly at the sight of the empty bed. He titled his head to the side as he surveyed the room before striding into the main living space of the apartment, expecting to find her there. The first thing he realized was that the floor was noticeably absent of her clothing. She was gone. ~~~ Buffy walked into the lobby of the W&H offices, glaring in Harmony’s direction as she swept past her. The vampire attempted to make herself look busy, avoiding the Slayer’s deathly stare and letting out a sigh of relief when she disappeared into Angel’s office. News of the punch up between Spike and Angel had spread through the building like wildfire and Harmony had no doubt that Buffy was the catalyst for the fight. She probably even swung a few of those punches herself. So long as the fury was directed away from her for her little part in the deception, Harmony was going to keep her mouth shut. ~~~ Angel looked up from his paperwork when his office door opened and someone walked in unannounced, blinking in surprise when a very angry Buffy walked in. He lifted himself from the plush chair and moved to lean against the front of his desk, arms folded in front of him. “Buffy, I didn’t expect you in so early. What can I do for you?” he asked as she strode towards his desk. “How about some honesty?” she suggested sarcastically. “Do you understand the concept?” She came to a stop a few feet away from her former, arms folded across her chest in an unconscious mirror of his stance. He pursed his lips, refusing to take the bait. “Buffy, I tried to explain my reasons for not telling you about Spike, but you wouldn’t hear me out.” “Did you really expect that I would? Angel, you lied to me. Why? I want to know.” She was demanding a response, not asking. She was barely controlling the primal urge to beat some expression onto his face. “You know my feelings about the whole Spike thing. He’s not good enough for you Buffy.” “Why?” Angel blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that response, vehement denials maybe, but just a simple why? “He’s a vampire, Buffy, he’s killed hundreds—possibly thousands of people and he tried to kill you and you’re friends countless times.” “Pot, meet kettle,” she said with an eye roll. “Stating the obvious here, but you’re a vampire as well and you did exactly the same things. Next?” “Next what?” “Next reason for keeping me in the dark,” Buffy replied simply. “There has to be more than that.” When Angel fidgeted slightly and seemed to be stumbling for a response, Buffy shook her head in disbelief. “That’s it?” “I was trying to look out for you, for what was best,” he began, only to be cut off. “Angel, you weren’t looking out for me or my best interests. You were looking out for yours. I can’t believe this all comes down to petty jealousy.” “Jealousy?” Angel scoffed, feigning nonchalance even as his ire grew at her sudden insight. “Of Spike?” “Yes, of Spike,” she repeated with another accentuated eye roll. “Do you want to know why I didn’t show up for patrol last night?” “I know where you were. I can smell the sex all over you,” Angel retorted as he stepped away from his desk. Buffy’s fist flew through the air and connected with his nose before he could move any closer. “Then we’re done here,” she said dismissively. “Once I track down Dana, I’ll be returning to England. Don’t try and contact me, I won’t answer your calls.” Angel’s patting of his nose stilled, brown eyes lifting from the floor to meet her icy hazel ones. “Buffy, you don’t mean that.” “If you think you can pull a stunt like that and expect me to be okay with it, I do.” “But things were going well,” he fumbled, taking a step towards her and reaching out with his hand, hoping the contact would help him express what he wanted to say. But she just moved a step backwards. “What about us?” “Us? US?” Buffy exploded. “Angel wake up and smell the reality. There is no us. Not anymore.” “Your letters, the phone calls, I thought…” His hand fisted in his hair in frustration. Since the demise of Sunnydale they had kept in contact, and it had only fuelled his hope that one day… “I never made any promises,” Buffy responded quietly. “Yes, you did. In Sunnydale, the whole cookie dough speech. You said that maybe, one day,” Angel pointed out. “That maybe has passed.” Buffy’s eyes flickered to the window, admiring the sinking sun as it set on the horizon. With a sigh of resignation, Angel leaned back against his desk. “What about Juan?” He rolled his eyes. “Juan? I mean come on, comparing himself to…” He shook his head in disbelief. Buffy laughed lightly. “Fragile ego. He was very threatened by the two of you. That’s why he went after Darla and Dru.” At Angel’s inquiring brow she nodded. “Yes, he informed me of his conquests. After I…” she trailed off. “And now he’s added you to that list,” Angel added bitterly. Buffy shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t here to make Angel feel better about himself. She was here to make a point—she was her own person and she didn’t need or want him making decisions for her. But her history with Angel insisted that she do it in a civil manner. “If it makes you feel any better, he wasn’t as good as the ‘legends’ say.” “Really?” Angel perked up somewhat. “Really,” Buffy nodded. “I may have limited experience, but I can tell the difference between great, and average. I’ve been lucky to have had two in the ‘great’ category and he was not one of them.” Angel took the compliment with a smile, knowing exactly who she was inferring the second to be. “So what’s your plan?” “Plan? I have to be Plan Girl now? I was just going to head out and hope I would run into her,” she moaned in faux annoyance in reference to tracking Dana. “I didn’t mean patrol,” Angel pointed out the obvious. “I know,” Buffy sighed. “The break-up phone call has been scheduled for after patrol, as for Spike… it’s up to him really.” All that Buffy wanted was for Spike to want to be with her. But after everything that had happened she didn’t know if he would even want that. Especially after her little disappearing act. She mentally kicked herself for running out like that. She did have things to do and she did leave a note, but that’s not the same. I shouldn’t have just left… “Up to him?” he frowned. “There’ll be no question; he’ll want to be with you.” “I’m not staying here, Angel. My home is in England now. And I can’t just ask him to pack up and come with me.” “Yes, you can. If it were me I would go. In a heartbeat.” Buffy was a little surprised by the conviction of his statement. A smile tickled at the corners of her mouth. “You don’t have a heartbeat to judge the time by.” “Metaphorically speaking,” Angel added with a wry smile. The uneasiness that had been hanging over Buffy on her previous visits to the law firm had somewhat subsided. If she had known that all it would take was to hit Angel a couple of times, she would have done that days ago. “I should probably go. I’ve got a slayer to find.” Angel nodded slowly as he returned to his desk and an incomplete pile of paperwork. “Did you want backup?” he asked even though he already suspected the answer to be no. “Nah, that’s alright,” she waved it off. “Goodnight, Angel.” He watched her walk out of the office, drinking in every movement of her lithe form as she walked away. He wasn’t sure if she would return if she captured Dana tonight. When the doors closed behind her, he finally replied. “Goodnight, Buffy.” ~~~ Slamming the telephone down and cursing Harmony for dodged answers to his question, Spike walked back into his bedroom to find some clean clothes. He dressed quickly in his uniform black clothing, and slid his docs onto his feet before making his way to the door and exiting in a blur of speed. There had been no answer at the hotel so he had to assume that she hadn’t returned there. A cursory call to the front desk had confirmed that she was still a guest of the hotel and had not yet checked out, but they would give no answers of whether or not she was in the building. Next he had called Wolfram and Hart, the only other place he suspected she could be and it was Harmony’s inability to give a straight answer that suggested that he’d found her whereabouts. So that’s where he was headed now. The fuel driving him in his search was not just concern for her welfare, but also anger. She had left him. Walked out whilst he was in the shower for god’s sake. Did the last twenty four hours mean nothing to her? Well he was going to have none of that. She hadn’t spoken those words once, she hadn’t told him that she loved him but he knew that she did. He had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her touch and in the way her body had responded to him. The declaration had been made even if it weren’t verbal. And you didn’t just walk out on the person you loved after sharing a night—and day—that they had shared. His fears that that was all it had been, a memorable night and day, was running rampant through his mind. His more confident side scoffed at the idea, but his inner William wasn’t so certain. Angel, he wasn’t worried about. Despite the jealousy he felt in regards to his grandsire’s past with Buffy, he knew that it was done with. She had told him as much last night. But the Immortal? They had been bed partners for almost two months. She couldn’t be thinking of returning to that Ponce… could she? He was going to find her, and demand answers. And hopefully he’d be able to say his bit without shoving his foot in his mouth. ~~~ Eve walked through the lobby, head held high as always as she walked through the throngs of gofers, lab technicians and lawyers that were beginning to filter towards the lifts. The daytimers were leaving to be replaced by the night shift workers. The Wolfram and Hart office was a living entity; just because the sun set didn’t mean work stopped for the day. That’s what Eve was here for right now. Work. But not something the Senior Partners had assigned to her. Pushing through the doors to Angel’s office, she found the vampire seated at his desk, busily completing paperwork. “Well aren’t you the busy little beaver,” she commented as she sauntered into the office. For the second time in an hour, someone had entered his office without announcement. Massaging the bridge of his nose in an effort to work away a little of his frustration with his assistant, he finally looked up to glare at the intruder. “Eve, I’m kind of busy right now.” He lifted a brow towards the stack of files to the left side of his desk. “Down boy, no need to bite,” she mocked as she came to a stop at his desk, perching herself on the edge of it. “I have some information from the Senior Partners, something I think you’d be very interested in.” “Get out,” Angel barked. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the entities pulling the strings in this place. "For all I care the Senior Partners can stick their intel up their…" “Its about Cordelia,” Eve informed with a Cheshire-like grin. When Angel’s expression blanked, she continued. “Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?” “I’m listening,” Angel grunted. “What I am going to tell you is going to blow you away.” ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing, it means alot. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know your thoughts. More will be up soon.

Chapter #13 - Choices.

A/N:Thanks to Megan for betaing! Chapter 13: Choices. Half an hour later, when Wesley knocked on the door, Angel was sitting in his office alone in the dark. The former watcher heard a grunt of a reply from within the room and entered, finding himself enveloped by the shadows as he closed the door behind him. The only light came from the neon signs and lamplights of the street alongside the building, but even they didn’t offer all that much. He blinked his eyes a few times as he attempted to adjust his sight in the dim room. “Angel, is everything alright?” he asked tentatively as he slowly approached the desk. Angel brooding in the dark wasn’t exactly a breaking story, but Wes suspected that his friend’s mood was likely due to the Slayer’s presence in town. When he had been stationed as Buffy’s watcher in Sunnydale, he had seen first hand the extent of their love for each other. Fresh out of the Council and still a little green around the edges, he hadn’t understood their affection for one another. The world was black and white and this love affair produced too many shades of gray. His attempts to forbid the relationship had of course been ignored, and it was only a few weeks later that he was stripped of his title and abandoned by the organization that he had dedicated his life to. It was the few months of ‘rogue demon hunting’ that had given him a little clarity and allowed him to look upon Buffy and Angel as two beings in love, not a vampire and a slayer in a forbidden situation. When he had began working with Angel and Cordelia, his life was given purpose again. He was helping to save the lives of the innocent and he had made two very good friends. The group slowly expanded to include Gunn, Fred and Lorne. He considered them all his best friends, his family. And he knew them well. Which is how he knew that this particular funk that Angel was in was more than just a typical brood. His hand reached out to a lamp, flicking it on as he passed and giving the room a little illumination. Before Angel on his desk sat some paperwork, something which was not out of the ordinary. But it was the sight of a worn piece of parchment that caught his eye. He would know that scroll anywhere. “Angel,” he prodded again when the vampire hadn’t moved. “What’s --” “Cordelia,” came Angel’s mumbled reply. “What about Cordelia? Has she woken? Has she…” Wes didn’t want to finish that sentence. “She’s okay,” Angel reassured, finally looking up from his desk. Wesley was confused and Angel wasn’t exactly being very forth coming. Moments passed and still nothing was said, so Wesley made a decision. “I’ll call the others.” ~~~ Buffy had been walking up and down the quiet stretch of the docks for over an hour now, and there had yet to be any indication of Dana’s presence. That so wasn’t a good sign. If she had slipped town, or even just changed hunting grounds, it would take a while to track her down again. It made Buffy feel guilty; if she had patrolled last night instead of going out then her job here might already have been completed. Her thoughts went to last night and all of her regret dissipated. How could she regret what had transpired between her and Spike? She couldn’t. A tingling sensation rolled up her spine to settle at the base of her neck, gooseflesh rising on her skin as the tiny hairs all stood on end. Vampire. No, make that several vampires. Buffy slipped her stake out from the waistband of her jeans and held it against her body to conceal the weapon. She hunched her shoulders and changed the pace of her walk so that her steps were slightly hurried and uneven, making her seem less confident, timid even. Being the Slayer for over eight years had taught Buffy many things. Something that never changed—no matter what country you were in—was that vampires would always prey upon the weak and scared. Apparently fear added extra spice to the blood. Buffy shuddered at the thought as she looked over her shoulder erratically, mentally applauding herself for her acting skills. A growl sounded over her left shoulder and she spun in that direction, her hair flying over her shoulder as she turned. “Wh-who’s there?” she stammered, playing the part of frightened girl to a tee. Feral yellow eyes blinked from the shadows as vampire number one made his presence known. Dressed head to foot in leather, Buffy could only assume he must have been on his way to a bondage club of some sort when he was turned. Moments later a female appeared by his side, wearing a spiked dog collar and scraps of material leather covering her privates. The female hung behind the taller male, seemingly waiting for instruction as they approached, all the while eyeing Buffy hungrily. “You know, I’m pretty certain the skank look is over. Last year over,” Buffy quipped. A second male vampire appeared to her right side, dressed in what Buffy assumed was gang colours: a bright red handkerchief wrapped around the eighties mullet hairdo and a matching red patch haphazardly sewn onto the breast of the denim jacket. Buffy dropped the act of frightened girl, her posture becoming confident and her stance relaxed as she prepared for a fight. The vampires looked at each other quizzically as her fists balled and raised, the piece of wood in her right hand becoming clearly visible. The female of the three shrunk back slightly in trepidation and Buffy could see hesitation flicker in the eyes of the other two. The males began to circle Buffy and her gaze darted between them a few times before she got fed up with the cat and mouse game. “Nubile flesh here! You’re supposed to attack, not stalk me to death.” Matching growls filled the air before they attacked in unison. Buffy’s left hand lifted to block a punch from the leather-clad vamp whilst she kicked out with her right leg and connected with the gut of the bandana-wearing demon to her other side. The female companion remained still as she watched the fight transpire. With one opponent several feet away, Buffy focused all of her attention on to leather guy. Buffy parried, blocked, ducked and weaved out of the range of his attacks whilst simultaneously throwing her own uppercuts and jabs into the creatures face. As his irritation mounted his attacks became sloppier, allowing Buffy to spin a roundhouse kick to his head that sent him flying against a warehouse wall. A loud crash sounded on impact and then echoed down the dock. Bandana guy now on his feet, Buffy turned her full attention to him. This one was quicker on his feet, darting forwards for his attacks before bouncing back out of her range. He got one, two good hits in before Buffy ducked under the third and ran straight at him, tackling him around the waist and throwing him to the ground. Her stake flew out of her hand and skittered across the ground several feet away. Buffy threw herself at the lost weapon, her fingers wrapping around the wood as the gangbanger grasped hold of her ankles and dragged her back towards him. She cursed in anger as the asphalt grazed her stomach, kicking with all of her strength to release herself, lashing out with her leg one last time for good measure and hearing bone crunch beneath the heel of her boot as it connected with the demon’s face. He cried out in pain, hand flying to cradle his crushed nose and blocking his vision. He never even saw the attack as Buffy’s stake filled hand slammed down into his ribcage and settling in his undead heart. The ash of the exploding vampire settled as Buffy did a hand spring to her feet to face of the remaining two vampires. The female was still standing where she had been before, real fear now etched across her face. “M-master, what shall I do?” she called fearfully to her companion. “Quiet, Slave! You will speak only when spoken to,” the male hissed as he stalked towards Buffy. “Master?” Buffy repeated. “In case you didn’t get the memo, the Master is dead. And in a few second so will your poser of a boyfriend.” At the quizzical looks she received Buffy continued. “Master, Ancient Vampire who was the first to walk the earth. Ring any bells?” At the non-response Buffy sighed. “Seems you guys weren’t given the whole history of your people thing that a lot of your kind spout.” “I am her Master, she belongs to me,” Leather guy spoke, eyeing Buffy from head to toe. “You are pleasing to look at. I may introduce you to my harem once I kill you.” “I’m a one vampire kinda gal and the place of undead lover has already been filled,” Buffy quipped. “As for your childe here --” “She is not my childe, she is my slave,” Leather guy corrected as he stood a little taller. “Not your..? You two didn’t make with the neck sucky?” Buffy questioned. At the feeble negative shake of the female’s head, Buffy exhaled noisily. “Word of advice, if Batman here didn’t sire you, then he’s not your master.” “Y-you mean…” “I mean he duped you,” Buffy informed with an eye roll. “Your master is the vampire who made you, not the guy who ordered you to wear--” Buffy’s hands waved in the air at the unsightly get up, “that disaster of an outfit.” The female’s expression became angered as she finally moved and began stalking towards them. “Maurice!? You mean I didn’t need your permission to feed all this time? And those sex acts?” “Maurice?” Buffy snickered. “I-I… ah,” he stuttered. His expression hardened. “I will kill you for this,” he promised as he turned on Buffy. “Oh goody, back to the non-fighting,” Buffy drawled sarcastically. With a roar, Maurice threw himself at Buffy, the sudden movement catching her slightly off guard. She hadn’t expected him to move that quickly when he had been so slow earlier. His fist struck her on the left side of her face, sending her reeling backwards. As one, the pair of leather-wearing fashion victims moved forward in full hunting mode. Pinned too close to the warehouse wall, and with packing crates blocking her on one side, they had her backed into a very tight space. This wasn’t going to be easy to get out of. Lips curled up in a snarl, Buffy launched herself into the air and spun a bone breaking kick at the female’s head, a primal sense of satisfaction filling her at the resounding howl of pain. That momentary pleasure dissipated the second the hard fist of Maurice found her abdomen, causing her to double over in agony. You had to make with the quippage instead of going in for the kill… She could almost hear Giles tut-tutting at her. Buffy tried to stand erect, the movement causing pain to ripple through her chest cavity, indicating a probable fractured rib. “You will know your place, bitch. I will show you pai--” The words died in his throat as a sliver of wood pierced through his chest from behind, his bulk exploding into ash that dispersed to reveal Buffy’s ally. Dana. The girl tilted her head to the side in question as she eyed Buffy’s hunched stance before she turned to finish off the job. With the cry of a warrior, she launched herself upon the remaining female vampire. Jab, kick, parry, stab and all that remained was dust swirling in the air. “Dana,” Buffy called slowly, still surprised by the girl’s sudden arrival and subsequent help. “Slayer,” came the simple response. The lines of blood Buffy had spotted on the troubled girl’s face days earlier were still there, however now they were a dark brown and crusted. Her clothing was the same as it had been, save for a new tear in the sleeve of the flannel shirt. Dana watched Buffy with curiosity as the blonde slowly straightened to her full height, wincing at the dull pain the action caused. “I’m sorry,” Buffy apologized. The brunette frowned for a moment in confusion before Buffy’s hand appeared from her back pocket with a small black gun. Her eyes widened in realization seconds too late as the trigger was pulled back twice. Two small darts whizzed through the air and imbedded in the girl’s neck, betrayal flooding Dana’s features an instant before her face went slack and her body collapsed to the concrete. Buffy returned the dart gun to her pocket as she knelt beside the fallen slayer, brushing the hair from her face as she checked for her pulse. Relieved when she felt the steady beat at the neck, Buffy carefully stood again and lifted her watch wearing left hand to her mouth, wrist side up. “It’s done. Bring in the retrieval team,” Buffy said calmly as she spoke into the hidden mic in her watch. “Copy that red leader. We’ll be there in ten minutes.” ~~~ Spike burst through the doors of Angel’s office, Harmony trailing behind him as she tried to divert him away with her exposed cleavage. It didn’t appear to be working. “Where the bloody hell is she?” he demanded before he’d even made it all the way in. Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Lorne and Angel all turned to face him and the somber expressions on their faces cut right through to the bone. Immediately worst possible scenarios began to fill his mind. Oh dear god no… Not now, I’ve only just found her again and… The room remained silent for several long seconds before it became too much to bear and Spike broke with an urgent plea. “Somebody tell me what’s goin’ on.” Fred was the one who stepped forward and spoke. “Spike, Buffy’s not here. She left for patrol over an hour ago.” The fear that had been chilling his veins began to lift slightly as more questions burst forward. “Why the long faces? Not that the look is uncommon for Peaches, but the rest of you --” “It’s about Cordelia,” Wesley interrupted. “We may have a way to wake her from the coma.” Spike frowned. He would’ve thought this news would be something to celebrate, not be the cause for brooding. Realization hit him suddenly. “What’s the catch?” “Angel’s Shanshu.” ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you guys like! Thank you to everyone who keep leaving me the wonderful reviews, they mean alot. ::hugs readers::

Chapter #14 - Urban Cowboy.

Big Hugs to Megan for betaing. Chapter 14: Urban Cowboy. Buffy stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her torso and then moved into the bedroom of her suite. The bedroom door was ajar just enough that she could hear the movements of her guest. Dressing quickly in a comfortable sweat suit, Buffy wrapped a towel around her head and sat down on the edge of her bed. Picking up the telephone, she began dialing a familiar number but hanging up before the last digit could be pressed. Taking a deep breath, she dialed a different number and waited whilst it rang, looking at the clock and calculating the time difference. It should be almost 9am in London now. A minute passed without an answer and she moved to hang it up when a voice suddenly spoke on the other end. “Hello?” The line sounded hollow, which was probably due to the fact that it was an international call. “Will, it’s Buffy.” “Buffy, hey! So we heard you caught her?” Willow’s voice was chirpy as she spoke, happy to hear from her friend. “Yep. Took her down with that tranquilizer you packed for me.” Buffy scooted further onto the bed and leaned back against the pillows. Her ribs were a little sore and she would probably need to have them checked out once she returned home, and they’d definitely be strapped for the flight. But that wasn’t the only reason for her exhaustion. A certain bleach blond vampire had spent several hours wearing her out the previous night and it was finally catching up with her. “What’s with the gloomy face?” Willow asked when she heard the tone of Buffy’s reply. “How do you know I’ve got gloomy face?” Buffy inquired, trying to perk up her voice. “I think you’re hearing things. Or maybe it’s the line?” “Or maybe you’re not telling me something,” Willow persisted. “If you won’t tell me, your best friend, then I’ll just have to get Andrew to snoop around a little and be extra questiony before your flight home.” Buffy sighed. There was going to be no getting around this, she should have known better. “Spike’s…alive,” she blurted out. Buffy could almost imagine the frown on Willow’s voice when she voiced her confusion. “Come again? Maybe you’re right about the phone line because for a moment there it sounded like you said that --” “Spike’s alive,” Buffy repeated more clearly. “Spike? Spike? By Yoda it can’t be true!” came a delighted squeak from the other room. Buffy nodded at the eager young man standing at her bedroom door. “Yes, Andrew, I said Spike. He’s alive.” “How is that possible?” Willow’s voice questioned at her ear. “From what Angel told me --” “Angel knew? And he didn’t tell us?” the red head accused. “Angel?" Andrew repeated, sounded as astounded as Willow. “Hang on, Will,” Buffy instructed. Fiddling with the phone for a moment, she finally figured out what button to press and hung up the receiver, Willow now on speakerphone. “Too many conversations at once,” she explained. “You’re on speaker, Will.” “Hello, Willow?” Andrew beamed. “Back on topic,” Buffy directed. “Yes, Angel knew and he didn’t tell us.” “Why?” Willow and Andrew asked simultaneously. “Cookie dough,” Buffy mumbled as she shook her head, speaking a little louder. “Jealousy, Sire grandchilde rivalry, ego. Will, you know. Angel always thinking that --” “…he knows best,” Willow finished. “Exactly,” Buffy agreed. “Back to Spike,” Andrew interrupted. “So you two bumped into each other?” “Sort of…” Buffy drawled slowly. “Was there singing? I imagine there would be singing. Or fireworks,” Andrew continued rambling. “I bet he saw you and swept you right off your feet and the two of you strolled off into the sunset walking hand in hand.” He frowned before adjusting his assumption, “Only not really in the sunlight because then there would be a flamey death involved because of the sun. Oh dear god! He died again, didn’t he? But we only just got him back! The irony! Damn you cruel world!” Andrew’s expression turned to one of horror and remorse as he shook his fist at the ceiling. Looking at Buffy, he took hold of one of her hands and patted it gently in a manner that was supposed to seem consoling, his own eyes misting with tears. “Andrew, no. There was no sunset, no flaming. Spike is still very much alive. Undead. You know what I mean,” Buffy reassured. “Oh thank the gods!” With a sweep of his brow, Andrew rose to his feet and began moving towards the bedroom door. “After that shock I am in need of some refreshment. Zima?” “No thank you,” Buffy smiled. With a parting smile Andrew left the room, closing the door behind him. Buffy lifted the receiver, taking the call off speaker. “So… what happened? Was there feet sweepage as Andrew suggested?” Willow probed. “Not exactly…” Buffy drawled slowly. “I kinda hit him. In the nose.” She ducked her head in shame. “Buffy!” Willow was aghast. “Why?” “I didn’t know if he was real! And then I realized he was and I just got mad at him for not calling me. I was hurt!” Buffy explained, her tone indignant. “I know, I remember.” Willow sighed. “Then what?” “Then…” “Yes?” “Then… I-got-drunk-and-went-back-to-his-apartment,” Buffy blurted out all in one long stream. “OH!” Willow gasped. “You, you didn’t!? Well did you… no. No you didn’t, you wouldn’t...” “I did. Many, many times.” Buffy’s face fell to her hands, knowing exactly what Willow had been alluding to. “Oh, Buffy,” Willow sighed. “I know. I feel so guilty about it. Not the it-it, but the it where I technically have a boyfriend.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to be one of those girls who does that, and now I am!” “No you’re not, Buffy,” Willow said gently. “There were extenuating circumstances!” “Such as?” Buffy asked dryly. “True love coming back from the dead. I think that’s extenuating enough.” “Will, I don’t know…” “Well I do,” her friend replied firmly. “If you could see me right now, you would be met with my resolve face, and we all know what my resolve face means, don’t we?” Buffy laughed despite herself. It tapered off a few moments later, a question she already knew the answer to falling off her tongue before she could stop herself. “What do I do, Willow?” “That parts simple. Grab a hold of him with two hands and don’t let him go.” Willow hadn’t been Spike’s biggest supporter… like ever. But things had begun to change and she had looked on him in a different manner that summer when Buffy was… gone. He looked after Dawn, he helped them on patrol, he was always there. And then when Buffy had come back, it was he who had been the only one who was able to talk to her. Sure there had been that time where he’d pushed things too far… but he had redeemed himself. He’d gone out and won back his soul. He could still be a major pest, and that final year in Sunnydale he’d caused his fair share of harm, but he undoubtedly was the major reason they even got out of there alive. Spike sacrificed himself so that they may live. He sacrificed himself for Buffy. And he loved her. “Will, it’s not that easy,” Buffy mumbled. “He has a life here now, and mine is in London…” “So ask him to come with you.” “I… I can’t do that.” “Yes, you can.” There was silence for a long moment before finally Willow spoke again. “Call Juan,” she instructed gently. “Deal with that first, then go see Spike.” “You’re right.” Buffy nodded in an attempt to convince herself. “You’re right, I can do this.” “You can,” Willow agreed. “Alright. Goodnight, Will.” “Morning for us,” Willow chuckled. “We’ll see you both soon.” “Yes,” Buffy nodded again. “Hopefully… bye.” She replaced the receiver in its cradle, taking a few deep breaths before lifting it again and dialing the number of her soon-to-be ex boyfriend. ~~~ “Angel’s Shanshu?” Spike repeated. “If I’m not mistaken, the champion the scroll refers to wasn’t named.” “Spike, you don’t really think that yo--” Angel began. “Why the blood hell shouldn’t I?” Spike demanded. “I fit the requirements. How much hero type work ‘ave you been involved in of late?” Angel dropped his head in shame. “That’s right,” Spike nodded as he continued. “I’m the one who’s been out helpin’ the helpless. Seems to me that if the Powers were going to chose someone to make a real boy, I’m a more likely candidate.” No one spoke to contradict him. It was true; Spike had been the one fighting on the streets whilst Angel had been making deals with the not-so-clean members of society that Wolfram and Hart represented. “Doyle seems to think so as well,” Spike added. Angel’s gaze became fierce as he looked up at Spike. “What name did you just say?” “Doyle, has an in with the Powers That Whatsit. Gets these visions that point me in the right direction,” Spike informed matter-of-factly. “But I thought that Doyle—” Wesley began gently, looking to Angel for confirmation. “Doyle… was dead?” “He is,” Angel muttered. “I was there.” “Maybe it’s a different guy?” Fred suggested, knowing even as she said it that it was a bit of a stretch. “Anything else you know about this guy?” Angel demanded, hoping that somehow Spike’s intel would be able to give them something to work from. Spike thought about it for a moment before describing, “Not much. Average size. Dressed like an urban cowboy. Got his hand chopped off once.” Wesley cleared his throat. “That kind of sounds like…” “Lindsey,” Angel growled. ~~~ Harmony sat at her desk filing away at her nails. Now that the secret was out and she no longer had to keep track of Spike’s whereabouts, she found that she had a little more free time on her hands. Especially when it was after normal business hours. She wished she could just go home already, but she had to wait until Angel was finished for the day. The elevator dinged and she looked up to see Eve walking into the lobby, cell phone pressed to her ear. Whoever she was talking to it was obviously about something important, judging by the myriad of expressions that were flickering across her face. Feigning ignorance of her presence, Harmony continued to file away at her nails as she stretched out her vampire senses to eavesdrop on the conversation. Angel didn’t like the link to the Senior Partners, and if Harmony could somehow ascertain some information that would be of use to him then there might be something in it for her. “Linds…” Eve began, only to be cut off by the person on the other end of the line. She looked around the room to make sure no one was nearby as she continued. “No, it’s alright. I’m telling you he bought it.” Harmony frowned, straining to hear the words clearly. What she heard next really made here ears perk up to attention. “I am so getting that raise!” Harm bounced excitedly before she jumped up from her seat and hurriedly walked towards Angel’s office. ~~~ A few minutes later Spike had been filled in on Lindsey and his past with Angel. “It would seem you’ve been duped,” Wesley suggested as he turned to Spike. “So it was you who cut off his arm?” Spike mused, leaning back against the armchair with his arms folded across his chest, a big grin stretched across his face. “No wonder he’s tryin’ to mess with you.” “For someone who’s just found out that they won’t be turning into a ‘real boy’, you’re taking this pretty well, Sweet Cheeks,” Lorne pointed out. Spike shrugged his shoulders. As far as he was concerned, becoming human would just have been the icing on the cake. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t a ghost anymore, and he had Buffy. What more did he need? With a pointed look at Angel he answered, “Yeah, but I got the girl.” A bright smile stretched across Fred’s face at this little tidbit. She was happy for Spike—thrilled even. She knew how much he loved Buffy and how being apart from her had nearly killed him. It only seemed fair that if the Shanshu Prophecy was about Angel, that Spike should at least get to have happiness. Shrugging off the glare that Spike received from Angel in response, he turned on his heel, intent on renewing his search for Buffy. The doors to the office burst open and an excitable Harmony half-skipped, half-ran towards the congregating group. “Boy do I have news for you!” ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you guys like!

Chapter #15 - Shamu, Shanshu and Spike.

Thanks to Megan as always for betaing Chapter 15: Shamu, Shanshu and Spike. Everyone looked at Harmony as if she had grown a second head. “Honey, if it’s about that new Colin Farrell movie, we all know already,” Lorne answered in response to her excited entrance. “It’s not about Colin,” she replied, only to find her train of thought becoming distracted. “What new movie?” “Harmony, not now,” Angel grumbled. “But it’s about Eve!” she blurted out desperately. Harmony was always excluded from these little meetings and for once she had something to share that she knew was of value. And they were going to hear her out! “What about Eve?” Angel demanded. “I think she’s planning something. Something evil.” Harmony detailed how the woman had looked around the room nervously during the small conversation she had overheard, gesturing wildly and imitating her body language for emphasis. “Well that’s just… great,” Angel muttered sarcastically. It did sound suspicious but so far all he knew was that Eve had been twitchy. “Did you hear any actual content of the conversation?” Harmony nodded proudly. “She was talking to some girl named Lynn about Shamu.” She frowned quizzically before continuing. “Isn’t Shamu a whale? Why would she be so interested in that?” Shrugging her shoulders she continued, “Anyway, she said that ‘you bought it’ to this Lynn person.” “Lynn…?” Wesley repeated. “Are you sure it wasn’t Lindsey?” “And Shamu, sounds almost like Shanshu don’t you think?” Fred posed to the rest of the group. Harmony shrugged her shoulders in response. “Could’ve been, I guess.” A thought occurred to her and another frown marred her expression. “As for the ‘you bought it’ comment, that sure sounds suspicious. Unless she was talking literally… did you buy a whale, Bossy?” Angel blinked in bewilderment for several moments before dismissing Harmony with a wave of his hand. “But I was--” she began. “Not now, Harmony,” Angel cut off. The blonde vampire walked out of the office with her shoulders slumped dejectedly, muttering beneath her breath. Angel’s expression became black as he recalled the earlier conversion with Eve. “It’s about Cordelia,” Eve informed with a Cheshire-like grin. When Angel’s expression blanked, she continued. “Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?” “I’m listening,” Angel grunted. “What I am going to tell you is going to blow you away.” Angel pursed his lips, his arms folding across the broad expanse of his chest and highlighting his annoyance as he leaned back on his swivel chair. Sensing Angel’s impatience, Eve continued quickly. “They have a deal on the table. Seems that there may be a way to wake your friend from her little coma. Something that my sources say the PTB’s would be very happy with.” Angel’s stoicism faltered. A way to awaken Cordelia? He had delegated a whole department to research of the mystical and physical causes of her condition and had paid extraordinary amounts of money to fund the research team. So far, they had found nothing. And now the Senior Partners may have found a way to wake her. It had to be a trick. “What’s the catch,” Angel questioned. “You’re brighter than they give you credit for, Angel,” Eve complimented and derided at the same time. “As you may be aware, Cordelia Chase’s condition is complicated. Whilst the cause of her coma is known, how to wake her from it is another question. The Senior Partners have consulted with the PTB--” “Really? Angel scoffed. “I wasn’t aware the Powers made deals with the devil.” “You’d be surprised who they do business with,” she responded confidently, a knowing smile teasing its way across her face. “Ever wondered why the Catholic Church is so powerful?” Angel’s scowl intensified. Eve was skirting around the issue, drawing out her information for effect. “It’s sort of a ‘you-scratch-our-back, we’ll-scratch-yours’ kind of deal.” Eve stood up from her perched position on the corner of Angel’s desk. She placed both hands palm down on the wooden writing table, leaning towards the vampire in an almost conspiratorial way. “All the Senior Partners require in lieu of Ms Chase’s place in limbo—which is what my sources say is the most accurate description of her current state—is a signature. From you.” “They want me to sign something, that’s it?” Angel repeated in disbelief. There had to be more to this, it seemed too easy. “Why hasn’t the paperwork been drawn up?” “It’s not so much paperwork as it is a scroll,” Eve supplied. “Nyazzian to be precise.” Angel’s expression blanked. The Nyazzian scroll… But that was the scroll that contained the prophecy. “The Senior Partners want me to sign away the Shanshu,” he realized. “Clever boy,” Eve nodded. Standing up to her full height, she turned on her heel and began walking towards the office door. Upon reaching it she turned around to face Angel again. “You’ve got the paperwork, we’ve got the pen. A signature in blood and your friend is awake again, Angel. Think about it.” Before Angel could respond, she had gone. “Well thanks for the not so interestin’ chat. I think I might head out,” Spike announced sarcastically, breaking through Angel’s reverie. Spike looked over at the brooding vampire before continuing proudly, “Gotta find my girl.” Before he could get too far, Fred called out. “Spike, wait. Please?” Spike stopped his departure, turning slowly to face the group. “Fred, I really don’t ‘ave time to --” “Help us?” The petite scientist placed her hands on her hips. “After everything I did trying to find a way to re-coporealize you, this is how you repay me—running off when I need…we need your help?” The others in the room seemed surprised by Fred’s tone of voice, and by her method of persuasion. Apparently Spike could be guilt tripped, by the right person. “Alright,” he muttered begrudgingly. “What do you need me for?” ~~~ “I’m sorry,” Buffy apologised a final time before finally hanging up the telephone. The weight that had been hanging over her shoulders seemed to immediately lift, and she knew any residual guilt would dissipate the moment she told Spike. It was over. She’d broken up with Juan—the Immortal. The conversation had been trying at first, with Buffy constantly being interrupted by her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend spouting about his time for the last few days. When she had finally managed to get a word in, she had to fight back the urge to flaunt that she had in fact cheated on him. At first she had fed him the standard ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, ‘this isn’t working,’ lines—along with several others—before she had finally been forced by his insistence for a real reason to confess that she was in fact in love with someone else. He didn’t take it very well. Apparently Buffy had been the first person to end a relationship with the ‘great lover’—as he named himself. With unsympathetic ears, Buffy had let him vent for two minutes, finally telling him to grow up before apologizing that final time. With a deep sigh, she sank down into the pillows of her bed. A soft knock on her bedroom door cut through the silence, and Buffy readjusted herself into a seated position before answering. “Come in, Andrew.” His arrival with several of the elder newly called slayers in L.A. this evening had come as a surprise. Their presence couldn’t have come at a better time. Buffy felt more comfortable working with her own team than she did patrolling a pack of uniformed marine-like operatives. After the argument with Angel she had returned to her hotel, which is where Andrew and the girls had made their presence known. After quickly stowing their small amounts of luggage in her room, they had headed out for patrol. Buffy had decided it would be best if she were the only one to focus on Dana’s known hunting strip of the docks, with the rest of the girls keeping a few blocks back—far enough away that they wouldn’t be likely to spook Dana if she appeared, but close enough to move in if backup was required. Andrew had remained mobile with the two youngest girls of the group, and after securing the area, had set up a command centre of sorts. The van he had hired with Council funds contained medi-kits along with enough tranquillizers and restraints to keep Dana docile and restrained for the return trip to England. It was a good thing they’d shown up when they had; Buffy didn’t know how she would have explained away carrying an unconscious female into her hotel suite. “It’s over?” Andrew inquired as he cautiously entered the bedroom. Buffy nodded. It was over. She was now free and unattached; there was nothing stopping her form being with Spike any longer. All she had to do was tell him. And somehow that thought scared her more than that one time she had to perform on stage when she was still a student at Sunnydale High. Andrew frowned as he slowly made his way to her bed and gently sat down on the edge of it. Buffy didn’t appear to look very happy and he would think that was exactly how she should be feeling right now. It was no secret that none of the Sunnydale Alum—himself now included in that group—approved or liked for that matter, her newly ex-boyfriend. And with Spike alive, he would think that she should be rejoicing. If Spike still loved her even half as much as Andrew himself had witnessed in the past, then she should be in high spirits. Not looking decidedly anxious. “Is something wrong?” Andrew asked delicately, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Just tired,” Buffy lied. Another frown appeared on Andrew’s face. He didn’t believe her. The past six months working with Buffy in England had taught him a few things about the Slayer. They weren’t by any means close, but he respected Buffy Summers more than he let on. If it weren’t for her he wouldn’t be a watcher. No if it weren’t for her, he would probably be dead, buried deep beneath the Hellmouth. He shuddered for a moment as he thought of the evil deeds of his past. That was behind him now. No longer was he an evil genius. No, Andrew was a bonafide member of the Scoobies now. A warrior of the light, a redeemed evil doer, a-- “I’m going to find Spike,” Buffy interrupted his thoughts, her tone determined as she stood up abruptly. “Huh? Wha-?” Andrew mumbled, shaking his head to clear the fog. Buffy was halfway to her bedroom door before she stopped and turned to address Andrew. “I can’t hide anymore. I’m not—” She sighed before continuing. “I’m not going to run anymore. He’s not like the others.” And he wasn’t. Buffy had known that Spike was different to all of her other boyfriends—make that different to all of the other men in her life, period. And she was afraid of that. Afraid that she’d put her trust into him completely and he wouldn’t want that, afraid that he wouldn’t want her. His words on the Hellmouth—his rejection of her expression of love—had burned. Countless conversations with Willow had offered just as many reasons as to why he would say such a thing, with one prominent one standing out from the pack. He wanted her to live. She could almost hear Willow’s words echoing in her head. “If he’d accepted it, if he’d told you that he loved you too, what would you have done?” And she knew the answer to that question—she would have stayed. She would have fought by his side, would have gotten him out of there alive—or died trying. “Spike couldn’t let you do that.” Willow was right. Spike had sacrificed himself, so that she may live. That knowledge still wouldn’t quiet the little voice in her head that insisted that maybe—just maybe—his words were truth. Shaking away her doubts, she finally decided that she couldn’t allow herself to be afraid anymore. She couldn’t sacrifice a possible future with Spike because of her fears of history repeating itself. Buffy had to give Spike a chance; she had to give them a chance. No more running. No more running… Andrew watched with a smile on his face as determination flooded Buffy’s features. He hoped that she found what she was looking for. “Good luck, oh prosperous leader,” he whispered as the front door to the suite closed with a click. ~~~ Spike was unconvinced. There was no guarantee that Lindsey would fall for their plot, no guarantee that he would even show up at the bar. But Angel seemed pretty confident. “Lindsey has a problem with gloating; he can’t just do the job and leave. He likes to witness the mayhem he causes,” Angel explained when he noticed Spike’s uncertainty. “Sounds like someone else I know,” Spike shot at Angel with a pointed look. Pursing his lips, the elder vampire let the comment slide. “Are we all clear on what’s to happen?” At the resounding nod of heads, Angel dismissed the small group and they began filing out from the office. This was going to end tonight. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you all liked! More will be up in a few days.

Chapter #16 - Exposed.

A/N: Jumped online quickly to put this chapter up. As you may be aware, Megan is the wonderful person who betas my work. Unfortunately, this is the LAST chapter she has been able to beta - partly because my email was back firing and the chapters weren't getting through to her, and now because *fingers crossed* she's had her fifth baby. This means, there's going to be somewhat of a wait for the next couple of chapters. Just giving you all forewarning - they will go up soon but I wouldn't hold my breath about getting anything more for the next week. Just thought I'd let you all know that *unfortunately* you're going to have to wait. Feel free to bug me over at my LJ if you must. ::grins:: http://www.livejournal.com/users/angelic_amy/ On to the chapter... Chapter 16: Exposed. Lindsey walked into the bar, his eyes immediately scanning the confines of the small space in search for his ‘champion’. He wasn’t too hard to find, what with light bouncing off that shock of white bleached hair. The vampire was sitting at the same table he had first found him at a few weeks ago. The difference this time being that he seemed to be somewhat inebriated. The table he was slumped against was littered with empty glasses, the one he cradled in his hands half full of whatever sort of whiskey he was sinking back tonight. “Spike,” Lindsey greeted with a disapproving shake of his head. “What happened to patrol tonight? You won’t be much help to the helpless in the state you’re in right now. You’d just as likely get yourself killed.” “So, it’s not like anyone would notice,” Spike mumbled as he attempted to sit a little straighter to eye his guide, only to begin sliding off his seat. “Whoa there,” Lindsey admonished as he stepped forward to catch the falling vampire before he hit the floor, slowly pushing him back into his seat. “How much have you had?” “Not enough,” came Spike’s grunting reply as he waved the bartender over. “Gimme another,” he demanded, waving two fingers in the air. “No, I think you’ve had about enough,” Lindsey decided. “What brought on this desire to drench yourself in whiskey?” Spike’s head lolled downwards, the hand not clutching his glass lifting to massage his temple. “She left,” he mumbled. “She was ‘ere, and she left.” “Who was here?” Lindsey played dumb, knowing exactly who Spike must me drowning his sorrows over. “Buffy…” he answered, her name uttered with absolute reverence. “She was in town? Wow!” Lindsey continued the charade. “Is.” Lindsey blinked in surprise at the venom in Spike’s tone. His earlier drunken episodes had never shown this sort of disdain for the Slayer. In fact, in the past Spike had practically worshipped her. “What happened?” he probed. “Used me, like she always does,” Spike continued, his jaw clenching in anger as he explained. “Got her kicks and then ran off.” “Ran off where?” Lindsey questioned, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Dunno.” Spike sighed, finishing the rest of his scotch before dropping the empty glass on the small table. “Back to England and the poof she’s datin’ over there. Or to Peaches. Point is, she’s not with me. She ran off; she always runs.” Spike’s expression cleared for a moment as he considered the weight of what he was saying. Because there was truth to his words, Buffy did always run. And he always chased her. His expression became somber again. Now Lindsey was worried. “Peaches?” “My bloody grandsire. You remember those two had a thing? I wouldn’t be surprised if she was shackin’ up with the Ponce as we speak.” Lindsey’s stoicism faltered. This new development wasn’t good, didn’t work in their favor. Eve was supposed to be keeping watch on Angel, and her little spy at the hotel—Danny—was supposed to be keeping tabs on the whereabouts of the Slayer. “Excuse me a moment.” Not waiting for a response, Lindsey turned his back on Spike and walked a few feet away, removing his cell phone from his pocket and dialing Eve. The line connected and began ringing. And then rang some more. Lindsey frowned; it didn’t normally take this long for Eve to pick up. Something wasn’t right. Disconnecting the call, he tried again. “Doyle?” Spike called. “Just a second,” Lindsey replied with a raised hand. Seconds later Spike was standing before him, a small black—vibrating—cell phone clutched in his outstretched hand. “Eve can’t come to phone right now—” Spike drawled slowly, the previous haze in his eyes clearing, his expression hardening. “Your girl’s a little… tied up at the moment, Lindsey.” Lindsey’s jaw clenched in anger before he whirled around abruptly, intent on exiting the establishment as quickly as possible, only to find himself slamming up against a solid wall of muscle chest. “Long time no see, Linds,” Gunn greeted sarcastically. Lindsey spun again, this time confronted with a very pissed off Angel. “Going somewhere?” “Apparently not,” Lindsey replied with a resigned slump of his shoulders. ~~~ Buffy walked into the Wolfram and Hart offices after there had been no answer at Spike’s apartment. She figured this was as good a place to check as any. Even after her repeated return visits, this place still gave her the creeps. Buffy shuddered as she walked out of the elevator and into the lobby. This place was the very embodiment of evil--how could Angel not see that, feel that? The first thing that struck her was the emptiness of the place. The main atrium—the gateway to the offices—was empty. Completely empty. "Hello?" Buffy called cautiously, her stance immediately shifting into a defensive pose. There was no response. Hearing a muffled noise coming from within Angel's office, Buffy slowly but surely began to move towards it. Not bothering to knock, she opened the double doors and confidently moved inside. Her jaw dropped, mouth gaping at the sight before her. Eve looked up at the sound of someone entering, eyes going wide when she recognized the Slayer. Instantly she began struggling against the ropes that bound her to the wooden chair, her pleas for help muffled by the gag tied around her mouth. "Who did this to you?" Buffy asked as she moved forwards, dropping to her knees before the bound woman to loosen the gag. Eve sighed with relief when it was removed, opening and closing her mouth and cricking her jaw several times before she finally answered. "Angel." Buffy's hands stilled at the rope securing Eve's ankles to the chair. With a curious mind and an amused stare, she lifted herself to a standing position, arms folding over her chest as she appraised the now squirming woman before her. "Angel. Huh." Buffy shrugged, leaning back against the side of a sofa as she continued. "Now why would he do that?" "I don't know!" Eve exclaimed, her voice urgent as she looked up at Buffy. "Please, can you untie me? The ropes are burning my wrists." "I'm sure they are," Buffy responded with a knowing smile. "Well? Are you going to let me go?" "What do you think?" Buffy asked with a raised brow. "I'm betting Angel tied you up for a reason. Just like I came here fo--" "GET away from her!" a shriek came from the door. Buffy jumped, startled by the sudden noise although she recognized the voice. Without turning she addressed the newcomer. "Harmony. What are you doing here?" Harmony stalked forwards, her gaze flicking from Buffy to Eve and back again as she made her way to the Slayer's side. "I'm on watch duty. Angel left me in charge of her," she explained, pointing at Eve. Putting on her best innocent act, Eve silently hoped that she would be set free, but she didn't like her chances. "Please, don't leave me here alone... with her. She's a vampire." "I know," Buffy nodded. "We went to high school together." With that Buffy turned. Eve's jaw dropped. "The Senior Partners are going to be so --" "I don't care. I don't work for the bad guys," Buffy replied bluntly. With a nod in Harmony's direction, the liaison to the Senior Partners was re-gagged, much to the woman's annoyance. Stopping at the doors, Buffy turned to face the pair again. "Harmony, I'm looking for --" "Spike?" Harmony interrupted. At Buffy's surprised look, she shrugged her shoulders. "He's with Angel. They're at a demon bar names Wally's, a couple of blocks from west here." "Thanks," Buffy replied sincerely, smiling briefly before leaving the office. ~~~ "Why?" Angel demanded as he slammed Lindsey up against the wall for the third time. Lindsey chuckled despite the throbbing pain at the base of his skull. He was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, that was for sure. "Why not?" Angel's face vamped and the ex lawyer-cum-vigilante just laughed some more. Wes and Gunn looked to each other nervously, both hoping that Lindsey would explain his actions sooner rather than later. When his faux guide's head hit the wall a fourth time, Spike finally stepped in. "Peaches, you're not going to get too many answers from a bashed in skull. And brain matter? Remember Germany—the stains?" Angel seemed to think about what Spike was saying for a moment, letting go of Lindsey's shirt that he had clutched tightly in his balled fist and shoving the other man into a nearby booth. Angel slid into the booth next to him, Wes and Gunn taking the other side. Spike watched on as the trio began their interrogation. Despite being within earshot—thanks to his vampiric hearing—he tuned out the voices as he lost himself in thought. His little show had been commendable, so believable in fact that he was beginning to look at things differently himself. All those things he had said about Buffy, it was meant to be an act to fool Lindsey long enough so that the others could take position, to corner and interrogate him as they were currently doing. He wasn't supposed to believe his words. Point is, she’s not with me. She ran off, she always runs. Not only did she run like always, but she had waited for his back to be turned so he couldn’t even see her do it. His own words taunted him as he became lost in thought. ~~~ Buffy moved quickly down the streets of L.A., headed for the bar that Harmony had told her about. She knew she wasn't needed for the little sting operation Angel had planned, and that wasn't why she was going. She was headed there for one reason and one reason only. Spike. She had made her decision back in the hotel suite and she was going to follow through with it. No more running... she mentally repeated to herself. She couldn't let her past experiences interfere with her future. And if she wanted Spike to be a part of that future, she needed to let him know. Sooner rather than later. Buffy just hoped that she hadn't missed her chance. ~~~ "Spike?" Fred's voice broke through his reverie. Forcing a weak smile onto his face, he turned to face her. Spike saw genuine concern in her eyes and he was almost surprised by it. In such a short time he had become a part of this team. Even if Angel himself denied it, Spike knew he was doing good here. He was helping. His life had purpose. Buffy being here, showing up like that had thrown him into a tailspin. When she was around he could barely think of anything but her. What she was doing, where she was, why she wasn't with him right now... Who am I kiddin'? Even before she came all I did was think of her. "Spike, is everything alright?" Fred asked worriedly when he hadn't responded. She had hung back whilst the guys had taken care of Lindsey, for once playing the spectator. Lindsey and Eve had almost convinced Angel to sign away his Shanshu. She knew that he no longer held such a strong belief in the prophecy as he once had, but as long as it was still viable--as long as there was a possibility that one day he would be redeemed of his past crimes against humanity, that he might one day become human—he had hope. Something to strive for, something to push him. A reason to fight the good fight. And they had tried to take that away from him. 'The vampire will play an important role in the apocalypse, for which side it is unknown.' Fred knew that taking away the Shanshu would be taking away Angel's hope—his chance for redemption. If he had signed that parchment and Cordelia hadn't awakened it would have thrust him into deep despair. He would have given up. L.A. needed a champion and Fred didn't think Spike would be sticking around much longer, not now that he had Buffy back in his life. "Yeah," he muttered in response. "Everythin's fine." Fred's frown deepened, her lips pursing as she placed a hand on her cocked hip. "Now why don't I believe you?" she asked good-naturedly despite her frown. Spike was silent for a long moment before he finally responded. "She's not going to stay." "You don't know that," Fred began only to be interrupted. "Yes, I do." He knew he was right. Buffy wasn't going to stay. She had family and friends and obligations back in London. As soon as Dana had been taken care of, she would have no reason to stay in L.A. "She'll be done what she came 'ere to do before sunrise." Fred's eyes widened. "She won’t just leave will she? She wouldn't go without saying goodbye?" She had come to like the Slayer immensely and had been hoping they could hang out—even just for a night—before she went back home. Fred didn't have many female friends now that Cordelia was... Her thought instantly went to Lindsey and Eve and their plan to not only rob Angel of his redemption but also fill each and every one of them with false hope. "Let me at him!" Fred demanded as she stormed towards the booth where the four men were seated. Spike shook his head in amusement as he watched Fred launch into a verbal attack. He sensed her presence the moment she entered the bar, his shoulders stiffening as he felt her move towards him. He wasn't going to let her do this to him anymore. She couldn't just take what she wanted when she wanted and expect him to be okay with that. No longer was he going to let her use him. "Spike," Buffy whispered as she moved to his side, knowing that he knew she was there just like she had known he was in this bar the second she had stepped inside those doors. She had felt him, just like she always had. Her body was so keenly aware of his presence, always had been. Ever since that first night at the Bronze. Buffy had sensed the power, the strength within him the moment she first laid eyes on him in that alleyway. And unlike with Angel, she knew what he was from that first meeting. How she had ever denied that meant something, she didn't know. She spotted Angel and the others talking to—make that interrogating—a dark haired male who was unfamiliar to her, but she dismissed it immediately. The reason she was here at this bar was standing right before her. "Can we talk?" Spike's expression was blank as he turned to regard her, for once reigning in his emotions. He only uttered one word before he turned and walked away from her. "Outside." Nodding mutely, Buffy followed. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you guys liked! Let me know what you think.

Chapter #17 - History Repeating.

Thanks go to Sue for betaing this chapter. Chapter 17: History Repeating. Buffy shivered when the cool night breezed over the bared flesh of her arms. Spike was walking several paces ahead of her and he didn’t seem to be slowing anytime soon. Frowning, Buffy hurried her pace to fall in step with him and still he didn’t stop. “Spike, what’s going on? Where are we going?” she asked with genuine confusion. Spike didn’t answer her; he just kept walking down the street. It didn’t take too long for Buffy’s ire to grow. Reaching out with her arm she grabbed hold of his and tugged on it, slowing his movement. “Spike, talk to me,” she demanded. “Talk to you. TALK to you?” he repeated incredulously as he finally stopped, whirling around to face her. “Like you talked to me before you ran out? While I was in the shower!?” Spike’s hands fisted at his sides as he tried to rein in his temper. “What, you couldn’t wait? You couldn’t stand bein’ ‘round me?” “No, Spike I --” “Don’t give me excuses, I’m sick of ‘em,” he interrupted. “I LEFT a note!” Buffy shouted in response. “Where?” Spike demanded. “On the fridge. I figured you’d need to feed, after…” Buffy’s cheeks blushed crimson, the volume of her voice lowering with each word. She didn’t want to fight, she wanted to sort things out. That’s why she was here. “After I shagged you six ways from Sunday?” His words were harsh, void of the emotion he had expressed during and after their repeated couplings. Buffy’s cheeks reddened even further. “What’s with the rosies? Don’t tell me the Slayer’s gone shy. Not after all of the nasty little things that --” “Stop it!” Buffy shouted. Spike cocked an eyebrow as he drew his gaze upwards from the ground, his stare leering as he drank in her lithe form. Her form wielded so much power, strength and stamina. “Stop what?” he sneered. “Stop looking at me like I’m that sex-bot. Stop talking about last night like it didn’t mean anything.” “It didn’t.” The pain in her gasp cut right through to the bone and it took all of his will not to immediately refute the words. Last night did mean something, more than something. It meant everything to him. Having her in his arms, in his bed, he had only ever dreamed of that happening again. It hadn’t been a dream and his soul was rejoicing at reclaiming its mate. That’s what Buffy was to him… Buffy was Spike’s soul mate. He would never bite her without permission, but the urges he had been fighting last night had almost been too strong to deny. The demon and the man had been demanding ownership. Both wanted to possess Buffy and mark her as only his, just as he belonged only to her. Spike loved Buffy; he had told her numerous times, both over the last twenty-four hours and the last four years. The only time she had ever returned the sentiment had been on the Hellmouth when he had been about to meet his fate. He simultaneously rejoiced and felt his heart break. She had finally said it, confessed her true feelings. But a small part of him felt like it had been a parting gift. Like giving a dying man a glass of water. Whatever the reason, she had said it. And he had done what he did because he had to. Rejecting her meant she would get out of there, and live. Spike couldn’t give her the power this time, like he had every other time. Telling her that last night had meant everything to him would give her the power. If she really cared about him then she would prove it. If it was just about the sex, then tonight was it. It was over. He wanted—needed—her to prove him wrong. God, p-l-e-a-s-e prove me wrong… “You don’t mean that.” Buffy shook her head in disbelief. This wasn’t happening—this was just a dream. A horrible nightmarish dream. Spike hadn’t just said that. “Spike,” she pleaded. “Last night was good, we were good. It felt…” She was struggling to find the words to express just what she was feeling right now. “We fit together so--“ “Fit together?” His heart sank as he interrupted her. So he had been right all along. It was just about the sex. “So it was about the interlocking bodies, eh? That’s why you’re here?” Buffy was stunned into complete silence, her jaw gaping slightly as she stared at him. Taking her non-responsiveness as an answer he came to a decision. That was it then. All she wanted was a physical encounter. His expression became steely with resolve even as inside he felt his heart breaking. If this was all she wanted, then fine. At least he knew where he stood tonight. Tonight he would give her what she wanted, but then never again. “Alright then, let’s have at it.” “W-what?” Buffy stuttered, still in utter disbelief over the harshness of his words. “One last roll in the hay, for old time’s sake.” He prowled towards her, his top lip rising in a leer as he pinned her with his gaze. She was absolutely dumbfounded. The questions flew through her mind at a million miles and hour. What had happened? Why was he acting this way? Buffy unconsciously began moving slowly backwards in counter to Spike’s approach. “My place again?” His brow quirked upwards as he closed in on her, hands on either side of her body pressing against the cool brick of the wall. “Or maybe ‘ere then,” he suggested. “You never were a satin sheets kind of girl anyway, why stray from your MO?” “Spike!” Buffy asserted, his brash words beginning to sink in. “Why are you being like this?” “Bein’ like what?” he feigned ignorance as his lips swooped forwards, capturing hers in a brutal kiss before trailing down the column of her neck. Buffy released a heady moan, losing herself to the sensation of his lips on her flesh. The sounds she made drove him further, one hand leaving to wall to roughly grope her breast whilst he continued to nip and nibble at her neck. Although he was biting with his blunt human teeth, it was likely that she would have a few small bruises in the morning. Buffy hadn’t refuted his claims that it had just been about sex, hell the way she was moaning and squirming beneath his touch all but confirmed that was all she was after. Well, he’d give her what she wanted then. He leaned more heavily into her, pressing her harder against the wall as he ground his hips into hers. Buffy’s moan became a hiss of pain. “Spike, ow!” “Spike, stop! Ow. What are you doing?” Spike gasped as past memories immediately resurfaced, haunting him. His hands flew from her body as he practically leapt away from her. “Spike?” Buffy approached softly. The fear, the loathing she saw in his vacant stare scared her. “Spike, you didn’t hurt me.” Spike flinched at her words, stepping back even further. Realization filled her and she began shaking her head as she approached. “No Spike, you didn’t hurt me… the bricks…” But before she could say anything else Spike had turned on his heel, and fled. ~~~ Angel drove in silence back to the Wolfram and Hart offices. Lindsey was securely bound—and gagged—in the back of the van that Wes and the others were riding in. Angel was still at a loss. He couldn’t believe that he had almost signed his Shanshu away. No actually, he could. If he were certain that it would wake Cordelia, then it would be worth it. She was a member of their team, a friend, someone who was dearly missed. Angel missed her. He cared about Cordelia, had once thought that he had loved her. And he did. But not in the same way he loved and cared for Buffy. Angel realized that little fact the night he turned up in Sunnydale with the amulet for Buffy the day before Sunnydale was swallowed into the earth. She had kissed him and all the feelings that he had locked away in the deep recesses of his heart had come spewing forth. And then she had told him about Spike. Angel couldn’t help the growl that escaped his lips. He supposed that he would always be that way when it concerned Buffy. She was in his heart and would be always. Just as he knew he had a place in her heart, just not the place he wished he could occupy. Buffy loved Spike. She may not have admitted it to herself, and Angel doubted she had told Spike. But Angel knew. He had seen it in her eyes when she had been in his office hours earlier, heard the conviction in her voice, and felt that conviction in the blows from her fists. When Buffy loved, she loved completely. But her past had made her a little gun shy. Angel was aware that he was partly to blame for that with his sudden leaving of Sunnydale, but he also knew it stemmed deeper than that. The abandonment issues, the problems she had with trusting and opening up to people also came from her father, Parker, Riley… She hadn’t been treated very well at all by the men in her life. Angel sighed. Buffy was still mad at him for his interference and he knew it was going to take a lot to set things right between them. But he was going to try, if she’d let him. And if that meant stepping back so that Buffy could be happy with Spike, he’d do it. Spike wasn’t exactly on any of Angel’s lists of favourites, but he did love Buffy. More importantly, he would never abandon her. Not even if she wanted him to. So lost in his thoughts Angel didn’t even notice the time passing and he soon found himself at his destination. Parking his car in the underground lot he exited the car and made his way towards the elevator. Wesley had suggested that they return to the office to continue their interrogation so that they could contain their prisoner more securely and also have access to their books. Lindsey had kept himself off the Senior Partners’ radar, and Angel wanted to know how. ~~~ Spike paced back and forth the small expanse of his living room, locked in an internal war of thought. He shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have touched her. It all went to hell when he touched her, it always did. His head had been telling him to leave, his body had been demanding contact and his heart—his heart had been breaking. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see. Couldn’t see how great they were together, couldn’t see how much he loved her. He wasn’t supposed to kiss her, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. The plan had been to stay strong and vigilant, wait for her to make the first move. Not just any move, the right one. For Spike this wasn’t just about sensation, about sex. It was more. It was everything. He was ready and willing to give everything so long as she gave a little back. As usual he hadn’t been able to wait. Spike wasn’t known for being patient. But he hadn’t even let her finish a sentence; he’d immediately jumped in and assumed the worst. A voice of reason—the voice that always piped up after you could’ve used the advice—told him that maybe he should have heard her out. Let her speak. Too late now though. Spike wasn’t going to go crawling back to her; he wasn’t going to chase her like he always did. And all he could think right now was that she wouldn’t come looking for him. He’d really buggered things up. ~~~ Buffy had remained on the street for a good half hour before finally moving down it, walking slowly as she tried to sort through her thoughts. He’d just run off. Spike had run off. The haunted look in his eyes when she’d yelped in pain had been palpable. Instantly she’d felt herself being transported back to Sunnydale—the basement of the new high school. “I hurt the girl… I hurt you Buffy.” Spike had thought he’d hurt her, again. So he’d run. If there was one thing about Spike that she was certain of, it was that he would never intentionally hurt her. It was something she needed to tell him, and she would have if he hadn’t run off like a bat out a hell. Spike’s behaviour had been peculiar. His tone of voice had been harsh and cold, his expression steely. And there had been little warmth in his touch. The things he’d said… How could he think that she was like that? That she would just use him like that? Because you have before… “That was different,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to stave off the chill in the air. It was different now. Buffy didn’t want to use him, that wasn’t what she was trying to do. She wanted the whole Spike package; from his bad taste in music, to his preference of black everything, she was even willing to accept his bizarre addiction to Passions. Buffy wanted all of Spike; his heart, his body and the soul he fought for. Now all she had to do was find him, convince him of all this and then somehow broach the subject of her return to England and wanting him to come with her. It sounded easy but it filled her with more dread than she had felt in months. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you all like!

Chapter #18 - Incentives.

Thank you to Sue for betaing! Chapter 18: Incentives. Angel watched the proceedings in the small interrogation room from the adjoining one, surrounded by the standard surveillance equipment that was currently switched off. This wasn’t being filmed, wasn’t really much point anyway considering Lindsey’s freakish ability to keep himself hidden. Somehow he had been hiding himself from all methods of surveillance, keeping concealed not only from the Senior Partners’ radar but also managing to remain unseen by modern surveillance equipment. Angel had wanted to know how. And now he did. “Are you sure?” “Positive,” Wesley responded with a confident nod. It really was quite ingenious. Lindsey’s chest and arms were covered with tattoos—tattoos that Wes had now confirmed acted as a sort of protection spell. “We remove the tattoos and he’ll be visible again. Not just to our surveillance but also to the Senior Partners.” Wesley frowned. He understood Angel’s anger and willingness to feed the ex-lawyer to the lions so to speak, but the former watcher believed that move to be hasty. It would be prudent of them to keep Lindsey in isolation and under lock and key. “Perhaps it would be wise for us to keep Lindsey here for a while. Contained of course, and closely guarded. But none the less, here.” “Why?” Angel growled, his brow furrowing, eyes never tearing from the face of the man on the other side of the one-way glass. ~~~ Lindsey almost knew Angel better than the vampire himself did, and if his suspicions were correct the new CEO of Wolfram and Hart was most likely in the adjoining room, his eyes trained upon him. Standing up from the wooden chair he had been unceremoniously dumped on almost an hour ago he approached the mirror, knowing full well that the occupants on the other side could see him clearly whereas he could only see his reflection. “Come on Angel!” he half-snarled, half-laughed at his mirrored self. “You going to leave me here to die of boredom?” Lindsey lifted his hands up in the air in mock surrender. “I give in!” ~~~ A growl resonated throughout the small room as Lindsey’s jibing was heard through the speaker system connecting the two rooms. As far as he was concerned they should remove the tattoos immediately and leave him for the Senior Partners to discipline. But Wesley seemed to think differently. “Why?” he asked again. “Because we may be able to use him.” Wesley dropped a fat file that contained information about their hostage on the desk before Angel. “Lindsey knows more about Wolfram and Hart, has more information on the Senior Partners and their dealings—their plans—than we could obtain if we were here for the next year. We can use that information to our advantage.” “He won’t agree to it,” Angel replied gruffly. Wesley’s point did make sense but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Then we’ll just have to convince him.” Angel’s brow furrowed slightly as he watched Wesley reach for the telephone. A number was dialed and a short moment later he spoke. “Ah yes, Harmony. Can we have Eve brought to the interrogation room please?” ~~~ Buffy reached the street that Spike’s apartment was on in record time, forward momentum stopping as her feet ground to a standstill. Her shoulders shook once, then twice with anxiety. This was it. If she was ever going to make a move, if she was going to attempt to make things right between them it had to be now. All she had to do was work up the courage to walk those last few feet. At this present time her feet were refusing to cooperate. ~~~ “She won’t come,” Spike muttered as he resumed pacing of the Spartan living room. “She won’t.” The events of an hour ago were playing over and over in his mind. How had it come to this? Why had he allowed himself to kiss her? That wasn’t the plan. The plan had been to find out what she wanted, if Buffy was only after a bit of cold comfort or if she was in this for the long haul—and then act. She had made it pretty clear what she had on her mind, he should have just walked away. “But no. You had to go and kiss her didn’t you, you stupid git.” Stopping his pacing before he wore a trench in the carpet Spike made a beeline for the fridge, opening it and snatching a bag of blood from inside. His canine elongated as his face shifted into its vampiric countenance, teeth sinking into the plastic and slurping a long deep pull of the chilled ambrosia into his mouth. Mid way through devouring the liquid a knock sounded on the front door of his apartment, the sound echoing throughout the small living room. “I’m comin’,” he muttered in complaint as he marched towards the door and threw it open. And found nothing. A frown crept across his brow moments before her scent filled his nostrils. Buffy… She’d been here, not long ago. The half drained bag of blood still clutched in his hand he stepped out of the apartment, eyes narrowing when he spotted her several feet away. Buffy was pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath. Spike caught several of the words—mistake, apology and punk being three of them, but not enough to make out all that she was saying. He was puzzled by her actions, his head tilting to the side as he examined her. Buffy’s shoulders tensed as she stopped mid pace, eyes lifting towards Spike’s apartment door. “Spike, hi! I was just… I mean to say that I was going to… but then there was…” The nonsensical half-completed sentences poured from her mouth as she closed the distance between them with a few quick strides. Spike’s expression was one of amusement, scarred eyebrow arched as a hint of a smile curled at his lips. Seeing her in this state wasn’t a regular occurrence and knowing that he was the reason behind Buffy’s babbling wasn’t altogether a bad thing. Momentarily forgetting that he was mad at her he stepped forward, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ears. It was the touch that reminded him and he quickly withdrew his hand, his expression become blank. “What are you doin’ ‘ere?” he grunted as he folded his arms over his chest. Buffy’s confusion grew at his erratic actions. One moment he was tenderly brushing hair off her face and the next he was eyeing her off as if she were the enemy. She didn’t know what had been the catalyst for this change in him. “I came to talk to you. There are some things that I wanted to tell you Spike. About--” He didn’t even let her finish the sentence. “I’m busy.” Buffy’s jaw dropped when he turned his back on her and proceeded to step inside his apartment, apparently moving to close the door in her face. She shot her hand out and forcefully pressed it against the door, sliding her foot between the wooden barrier and the frame. “Spike! Wait a minute, I just want to--” “I don’t care!” Spike barked back in response. “Not everythin’ is about what you want. What about what I want for a change?” Buffy blinked in surprise at the venom in his voice. Pushing her way through the door that carried on to slam shut, she closed the distance between them. “That’s why I’m here!” she retorted angrily. “Really? Don’t look that way from where I’m standin’.” “Well you’re not looking at it right!” “Not lookin’ at it right?” Spike repeated his own incredulity apparent. “You see, now that’s your problem. People ‘ave to see things your way ‘cos Buffy is the one who’s always right.” “What?” Buffy snapped. “You ‘eard me Slayer.” “Slayer?” The anger left Buffy’s sails as her voice lowered in volume. “Is that how it is now between us? Vampire and Slayer?” Spike shrugged in response. Buffy’s eyes flickered to his left hand that was holding his dinner. “Well come on then vampire. Get rid of the fast food and have yourself something fresh.” Buffy tilted her head to the side and flipped her hair over her shoulder, exposing the creamy column of her neck that was unblemished save for a few small hickeys that had risen on her skin thanks to Spike’s none to gentle biting in the alley not an hour ago. “You’re a vampire, prove it.” Now it was Spike’s time to blink in shock. “What?” “Come on vampire. That’s what you are, a vampire. Creamy skin on show here, happy hour isn’t going to last forever.” “Buf--” Spike began. “No!” Buffy shouted. “Slayer, remember?” Spike’s nostrils flared as his anger rose and fell like breath. One moment he wanted to attack, wanting to give her what she was asking and the other he just wanted to shake some sense into her. She can’t be serious… his inner William fretted whilst his demon was salivating at the sight of the exposed flesh. She was practically begging for it. If he bit her, marked her, claimed her then she wouldn’t be able to run off back to England and that ponce of a boyfriend, The Immortal. The more he thought about it, the better biting her sounded. Spike lunged towards her, his previous meal instantly forgotten, the bag of blood dropping to the floor as his fingers curled around her upper arms and pulled her flush against him. His features shifted in the sudden movement, his head lowering to her neck quicker than Buffy could have blinked, all the while Spike waited for the inevitable. Waited for her to recoil, to move back, to run like she always did. But she didn’t even flinch. Spike’s hope began to soar. “Buffy…” he murmured softly, his grasp on her arms relaxing as he slowly began to step away. Buffy knew that he wouldn’t go through with it, knew that she was safe with him. Even if he had bitten her she wouldn’t have moved. She was here to prove to him just how much she cared about him, how much she wanted to be with him. Buffy trusted Spike, and whilst this little stunt was one that came purely from her own anger and annoyance it had served its purpose. She put her life in Spike’s hands. Hopefully he understood that she was trying to express just how much she trusted him. She had anticipated his back peddling and compensated by moving forward, pressing herself more firmly against him. “Spike, do it. Bite me.” “Buffy.” He only spoke her name but in that one word his pain was clear, Spike was almost begging for her to stop. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her, not since… Buffy looked up into his face and saw the moment his eyes glazed over, presumably due to old memories resurfacing. “Spike, no. What happened in the past is past. You won’t hurt me.” Spike’s brow creased into a frown. “I want this. I want to be yours.” A hesitant smile began to curl at Spike’s lips at the conviction he heard in her voice. Buffy wanted to be his and he wanted nothing more than to be with her. For once it seemed like they were on the same page. His happiness at her confession was dampened somewhat by his subconscious reminding him that whilst she may want to be his, she had a boyfriend. Nostrils flared as another wave of anger rolled over him, Spike again attempting to move away from Buffy only to find her arms wrap tightly around his waist in response. “What about the wanker over in England?” he spat out, the very thought of the Immortal causing a bad taste in his mouth. “Gone,” Buffy replied with a nod. “After we captured Dana I called Englan--” “You captured Dana?” Spike blinked in surprise, his eyes narrowing when he realized she had said we and not I. “Who’s we?” Buffy unsuccessfully fought to hide the smile in response to Spike’s jealousy. “Andrew and a few of the slayers. They arrived in LA a couple of hours before I left…” she trailed off, not wanting to remind him again of her leaving. “Left me,” Spike finished off bitterly. “I wrote a note!” Buffy responded adamantly. Her eyes floated towards the fridge spying the note that was still stuck there. “You just fed! How could you not see that? Twice!” Spike whirled around to face the fridge, his expression becoming apologetic immediately. Untangling himself from Buffy’s embrace he strode over to the cool store and grabbed at the piece of folded paper, his eyes flickering over it. Spike Don’t think I’m running out on you again because that’s not what’s happening. I came to LA to do a job and as soon as Dana has been taken care of I promise I’ll be back. I want this. I want US. Love Buffy xox Spike’s eyes slowly lifted to meet hers, suitably ashamed of his archetypal way of jumping to conclusions. “You could’ve waited,” he grumbled in way of apology. “I know, I’m sorry,” Buffy agreed, nodding her head for further emphasis. “But I’m here now.” Hesitating for a moment Spike slowly moved towards her, stopping when their faces were mere inches apart, the beginning of a smile curling at his lips. “And you want this?” “Yes, I do,” Buffy replied adamantly. “And it’s just us. No one else in the way?” Knowing he was referring to her former she nodded vigorously. “Gone. Out of the picture. Kicked to the curb.” The tentative smile on Spike’s face brightened when Buffy began struggling with her list. Point was the Immortal was gone. Dumped. She dumped the ponce, for him. The smile on his face doubled in wattage. “Just us,” he stated, liking how it sounded out loud. “Just us,” Buffy agreed, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a gentle kiss on his lips. Spike’s eyes fluttered closed, his arms wrapping around Buffy as he pulled her firmly against him. Breaking the gentle kiss a few moments later he looked down at her with a quirked brow. “I’m still pissed off ‘bout your disappearin’ act,” he informed her. Buffy mirrored his expression. “Ditto about your reappearance. Where was my phone call when you un-combusted?” Spike opened his mouth to object but didn’t even manage to get a word out before Buffy’s lips were smashing against his in a much more demanding kiss than the one of moments before. “No more arguing and less clothes would be of the good,” Buffy suggested when she tore her lips away, her cheeks flushed with desire. “Agreed.” ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Hope you all liked! This story is coming to a close... not much left now!

Chapter #19 - Resolution.

Thank you to Sue for betaing! Chapter 19: Resolution. Lindsey whistled a tune in an attempt to amuse himself having been left alone in his cell of sorts since Wesley had exited. He figured that the former watcher was probably conferring with his ‘boss’, a term Lindsey scoffed at. He still couldn’t believe the Senior Partners—the very architects of evil on earth—had handed over the keys to one of their offices to Angel. Specifically this office that dealt with a number of clients—both human and demon alike—who would be key players in the apocalypse. A noise sounded at the door and Lindsey leaned himself further into his seat, feet still perched upon the table as a cocky self assured expression crossed his face. That expression dissipated in a matter of seconds when a female shaped object was flung in through the narrowly opened door before it was immediately closed again. “Eve?” he gasped in shock as he rose to his feet. “Lindsey!” Eve cried, her relief evident in her voice as she lifted herself to her feet and threw herself at Lindsey, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Lindsey hooked a finger under her chin and raised her face to meet his, the audible gasp he elicited drowning out her quiet sobs. “What happened?” he demanded. Eve’s face was decorated with a pretty purple and pink bruise down one cheek, the crimson stain of blood discoloring her lips and chin. Her lip was split and on further inspection he discovered that the bruise on her cheek had brothers all over her upper arms, the imprints of fingers sullying her pale skin. Eve whimpered against Lindsey’s chest as her fingers clutched at his shirt, the material balled in her closed fists. “V-vampire.” “ANGEL!” Lindsey bellowed, gently removing Eve from his embrace and seating her on the low wooden stool. No response was forthcoming which served only to further fuel Lindsey’s rage. “ANGEL!” he roared a second time. “I WANT SOME ANSWERS!” The sound of locks being worked filled the room and moments later the door Eve had been thrown through opened again. Lindsey charged blindly, gaining only a few feet before a bolt of electric blue light shot in from the entryway and struck him in the chest, sending him flying against the wall behind him. A startled cry escaped Eve’s lips as she flew to her lover’s side, cradling his head in her lap when she joined him on the floor. “I see we have your attention.” A little groggy from the blast Lindsey struggled to lift his head properly. He needn’t have bothered, the voice was familiar if not expected. “Wesley,” he grunted. “What did you do to me?” “I thought that would be apparent. We tasered you.” The Englishman stepped into the room flanked by two uniformed personnel carrying weapons—including a taser—and a vampire. “Harmony, secure Eve,” Wesley instructed. Harmony’s expression was gleeful as she slowly stalked towards the pair. “No! Please!” Eve begged, wanting to remain as far away from the source of her bruises for as long as possible. Eve may be Immortal, but she wasn’t impervious to harm. She did bleed and she did feel pain. And she’d felt her quota for the century if she had anything to say about it. “Lindsey, just listen to them.” “Or… what?” Lindsey drawled, a chuckle that turned into a cough following the fearless response. “Or I get to play some more with your girlfriend,” Harmony supplied as she stopped a few feet away from the pair. The blonde vampire lifted her right hand to her lips, her tongue slowly extending from her mouth to swirl around the crimson liquid staining her fingers. “Blood,” Lindsey identified, a moment later catching on completely. “Eve’s blood?” “She’s quite tasty,” Harmony smirked. “I haven’t had blood this good since…” “You—you can’t do that!” Lindsey spluttered. His focus turned to Wesley, his tone incredulous as he continued. “You’re the good guys!” “We run Wolfram and Hart now,” Wesley reminded. “Isn’t it surprising how the threat of violence will make almost anyone talk? We learned that from you Lindsey.” “Threat?” Lindsey shouted. He had managed to pull himself into a seated position now and he reached out for Eve, pushing the hair off her face to expose her bruised flesh. “You call that a threat?” “Harmony may have been a little eager in the intimidation phase of our interrogation,” Wesley surmised with a cursory glance in the vampire’s direction. Nodding once in her direction Harmony rolled her eyes and huffily backed away, leaning up against the wall near the entrance. “I want to speak to Angel,” Lindsey demanded. Wesley turned to mirrored glass, nodding once before returning his attention to the couple. Moments later the door opened again revealing Angel. “Angel,” Lindsey growled. “What the hell are you playing at?” “Funny that, I was about to ask you the same thing,” Angel drawled sarcastically. His penetrating gaze turned on Eve. “What was with the proposition, Eve?” Lindsey started, sitting up a little straighter and looking at his girl in confusion. “He didn’t mean proposition in that way,” Eve quickly covered with a negative shake of her head, the double entendre filling her with enough annoyance to slightly bolster her confidence. She turned to Angel, her expression hateful as she looked up into the smug face of the vampire. “He means the proposition regarding Cordelia Chase.” Angel’s jaw ticked, his hands balling into fists by his side. “Why? Why Cordy?” At that Eve laughed. “Why do you think, silly? She’s a weakness. If there’s one thing you should have learned by now from running this branch of Wolfram and Hart, is that we always go for the jugular.” “This wasn’t sanctioned by any of the Wolfram and Hart offices. Or the Senior Partners for that matter,” Wesley pointed out. “What’s your agenda?” “You’ve been doing your research,” Eve complimented, feeling more and more like her old self now that Harmony had been instructed to back off. Weeks, even days ago if someone had informed her that Harmony was a threat Eve would have scoffed at them. After experiencing first hand the female’s obvious lack of remorse in inflicting physical pain and her obvious glee in causing harm Eve didn’t think so little of the vampire anymore. “Well then, who?” Angel persisted even though he had a hunch he knew exactly who was behind all of this. With a bright if not slightly pained smile, Lindsey announced himself. “You’re looking at him.” “Why?” Wesley inquired. “No, I get why. You wanted to take away all of his hope, so that he could be manipulated at your will.” Everyone in the room blinked in surprise at Wesley’s insight, Lindsey and Eve nodding slowly. “With Angel out of the picture, Lindsey could take his rightful place at the head of Wolfram and Hart,” Eve explained. “Handing a despondent and indifferent ‘Champion of the people’ on a platter to the Senior Partners would have been more than enough for them to absolve Lindsey’s past indiscretions.” “That I understand,” Wesley nodded. “The vampire will play an important role in the apocalypse, for which side it is unknown. What I don’t understand is why you took an interest in Spike.” “Plan B, Wesley,” Lindsey chuckled half-heartedly. “If Angel couldn’t be convinced to sign away his Shanshu then we were going to fix the results. Spike is a vampire with a soul. A vampire who gave his life to save the world and --” “We don’t need a re-cap on Spike’s newly turned leaf,” Angel interrupted impatiently. “What about Cordelia? If the Shanshu isn’t linked in anyway to bringing her back, if there can’t be a trade then what had you planned? So long as there is a chance Cordelia could wake up, there is no way that I would ever gi--” “I thought that was clear big guy,” Lindsey laughed. “We would have dealt with her.” Nostrils flared and fists balled Angel took a threatening step towards Lindsey only to be cut off by Wesley stepping in front of him. The watcher gave a look that was begging Angel to back off, and he knew that in the long run beating the crap out of Lindsey would get them nowhere, no matter how much fun it would be. “Dealt with her?” Harmony frowned, a moment later realization sinking in. “Dealt with her? You mean kill Cordelia?” At Lindsey’s nonchalant shrug Harmony leapt forward and grabbed Eve by the throat, pinning her against the wall with her feet dangling in the air. “LET HER GO!” Lindsey yelled as he struggled to his feet, latching an arm onto Harmony’s and trying to pull her off his girlfriend. His weakened state, courtesy of the taser, wasn’t helping. “Or what?” Harmony taunted, her face shifting into its vampiric form. “You were going to kill Cordy.” “Angel!?” Lindsey pleaded when Eve began gasping for air, her fingers scratching at the hand pinned around her neck as she tried to break free. “You’re the good guys!” he repeated his earlier statement. “I know,” Angel nodded. “I’m not,” Harmony pointed out. “I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt her!” Lindsey begged. Harmony swung a backhanded punch that effectively knocked Eve out. The vampire released her hold on the woman’s neck, Eve’s unconscious form sliding to the floor. Lindsey instantly dropped to his knees, cradling her in his arms. “We want all the information you have on the Senior Partners and their plans regarding Angel,” Wesley instructed. “Done,” Lindsey agreed with a nod not bothering to look up from Eve. “I want asylum, for both of us,” Lindsey stipulated. “And you keep your bloodsucker away from Eve.” “Done,” Wesley agreed. Satisfied that everything was going to work out, Angel turned and left the interrogation. He had a friend to go visit in the hospital… ~~~ Buffy rolled over in bed, a contented smile stretching broadly across her face. Whoever first said that make-up sex was a good thing, was very, very right. A sigh escaped her lips as she curled her sated form around Spike, thankful for the fact that his undead state meant a cool body to curl up to. “You’re like a leech,” Buffy commented happily. “Wanna run that by me again, love? For a second there it sounded like you called me a leech,” Spike frowned. “I did,” Buffy nodded. “But I… there was no bloodsucking, I kept me teeth to myself!” he pointed out indignantly. Buffy giggled. “I meant in the way that your body is stealing away the heat from mine. It’s nice, having my own special temperature regulator that’s fun to snuggle up with.” Spike’s frown faded to be replaced with a proud smile. “Happy to be of service, m’lady.” Buffy giggled again but it quickly died on her lips. “Buffy, love, what’s wrong?” Spike asked with concern as worry once more began to work its way through his system. He knew something was on her mind; he could practical feel the tension rolling off her, tension that hadn’t been there moments ago. “Buffy… if you’ve changed your mind about --” “No!” Buffy cried adamantly. “I haven’t changed my mind about you, about us.” That bought him some relief but he knew something was up. “Well, are you going to tell me or keep a man guessin’?” Buffy took several slow deep breaths before finally blurting out what was on her mind as quickly as she could. “I-have-to-go-back-to-England.” Spike’s confidence shattered. So she was going, just like he’d thought she would. “Oh,” he responded, unable to think of anything more intelligible to say. Buffy’s home was in England now and her return had been inevitable. Spike just hadn’t thought it would be so soon. “Oh? That’s all you have to say?” Buffy asked hesitantly. “How did you expect me to respond? Thanks for the shag, we’ll catch up next time you’re in town?” he blunted stated. “Spike!” Spike sighed. He knew he shouldn’t have said that but it was how he felt. He’d gotten Buffy back in his arms—again—and now she was going to leave—again. “I’ll miss you,” he mumbled quietly. “You’ll what?” Buffy probed, needing him to repeat the sentiment to bolster her confidence. “I said,” Spike announced a little louder, before sighing and continuing, “I’ll miss you.” “What if I told you that you wouldn’t have to?” Buffy asked. Spike frowned. “Buffy, you know I don’t like messin’ around with all that hocus pocus and --” Buffy sighed loudly with irritation. “Not magic, ya big dope.” At Spike’s wounded expression she quickly continued, taking one last deep breath before making her proposition. “Come with me.” Spike blinked once. Then twice. Then his eyes glazed over as those three little words repeated over and over in his mind. Buffy was asking him to go with her. Buffy wanted him to go with her. They wouldn’t have to be separated. This wasn’t the end. They weren’t over. She wants me to go with her… Spike was in complete and utter shock. She isn’t running… When Spike didn’t respond the way Buffy envisaged she shook him gently then waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Earth to space cadet. Spike, did you hear me?” “Huh, wha?” Spike blinked again, his eyes focusing a moment later as he looked to his side and into the concerned hazel eyes of his beloved. Buffy rolled her eyes. “Figured as much. A girl asks the guy she loves to move across the ocean and to a different country with her and he doesn’t even hear a word she says.” Again, Spike blinked slowly. Moments later the brightest smile crept its way across his face. “What?” Buffy frowned in confusion. “You said ‘the guy she loves’,” he pointed out as his smile stretched even further. Now it was Buffy’s turn to blink. “I-I did?” Spike nodded eagerly. “Yes.” Buffy looked nervously up into Spike’s eyes. Even though his delight at her unconscious admission was obvious, she was still afraid of his response. The last time she had told him that she loved him—the only other time—he had rejected her declaration. “Why so nervous, love?” Spike asked when he felt a shiver roll through her. He could practically smell her anxiety. “Last time I said that, you…” she trailed off. She was being silly she knew that. He had denied her love in Sunnydale because if he had accepted it she would not have left that cavern alive. Spike denied her so that she could live. But there was no life or death circumstance this time and if he didn’t accept her words now she didn’t know what she would do. She looked down at their joined hands—her left and his right—their matching scars molding together as one. Once more she was reminded of all he had sacrificed for her and just how right they were together. They, just, fit. Hand, heart, body and soul they were matched. “Buffy, love. In Sunnydale I--” Spike was silenced by the finger Buffy pressed to his lips; her eyes finding his as she snuggled even closer, making sure he kept her eye contact for this. “I love you, Spike,” she said softly. Spike gasped at the intensity of emotion in her eyes. There was no denying that she loved him, he could see the truth, the affection reflected in her eyes. Buffy loved him. She loves me… A whoop of delight broke from Spike’s lips as his mouth swooped down to hers in a searing kiss, washing all of her concerns away. The kiss was passionate yet gentle, desperate yet assured. It was love, lust, trust, pride and happiness, all rolled into one. “And I love you Buffy,” Spike responded tenderly when he finally broke the kiss. ~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Only one more chapter to go guys! Hope you liked, please let me know you're thoughts.

Chapter #20 - A New Life.

Thank you to Sue for the beta! Chapter 20: A New Life. Buffy walked into the library, her eyes scanning the musty room for a certain red head. A smile curled at her lips when she spotted the mountain of books stacked on a table in a semi dark little corner of the room, the only illumination coming from a small lamp. “Boo!” Buffy announced her presence as she snuck up on her friend. “Holy frijole Buffy, don’t scare a girl like that! Especially not one with witch-fu that could turn you into a… a bat!” Willow chastised whilst simultaneously patting the seat next to her for her bestie to sit in. “A bat?” “I’ve been research girl and the Count has been mentioned in some of my readings,” Willow shrugged. Apparently Dracula had quite a checkered history of deals with Wolfram and Hart; the research she was undertaking at Giles’ request related to anything that referred to the law firm. After Buffy’s trip to L.A., Giles had realized that it would be foolish to cut off lines of communication between their old allies, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t be monitored. Carefully marking her place with a bookmark, Willow closed the large tome and pushed it aside. Buffy nodded in understanding. They hadn’t heard anything new about Dracula since his visit to Sunnydale years ago. He was on her ‘find-a-permanent-way-to-get-rid-of’ list, but since he didn’t seem to be that much of a threat she wasn’t losing sleep over him. It was a different vampire that was keeping her awake at night… “Sooo…” Willow probed when she saw Buffy’s eyes glaze over. “How’s coupley life treating you?” “Good,” Buffy responded with a happy nod. “Great actually.” Willow nodded in understanding. She was happy for her friend, happy that Buffy was happy. And Willow was also thankful. The fact that Buffy’s room was in its own private wing meant nobody’s sleep was disturbed. A week or so ago Giles had walked in on the two of them fooling around in one of the training rooms and he hadn’t been able to look at the gymnastics horse the same way since. The redhead snickered at the memory of Giles’ ghost white face when he wandered into the library moments after, muttering ‘oh dears’ and ‘blindness would be a blessing’ under his breath. Giles sole task of late had been working with Dana. There had been little progress in rehabilitating her as of yet, but that didn't mean he was going to give up. “How’s your neck feeling?” Willow questioned when she found Buffy watching her intently, no doubt wondering what she found so funny. Buffy’s scarred hand instantly moved to the fresh scar on her neck—the only scar that was now visible—her fingers trailing over the tender flesh. The wound was completely healed over yet that area was forever tender, something to do with the whole connection thing she and Spike had going between them now. “It’s fine,” Buffy replied honestly. “Tingles every now and then but that’s just Spike letting me know he’s around.” Mere days after their return to England, Buffy began researching into claims. Whilst there was some documentation of claims between vampires there wasn’t a whole lot about the effects a claim could have on a human. When her own research hadn’t brought anything super enlightening forward Buffy had turned to her best friend. Willow’s excitement at Buffy’s hush-hush announcement that she was thinking of deepening her connection with Spike had been palpable. It had only been when Buffy had threatened to inform the new girl, Emily, about Willow’s crush on her—now that she and Kennedy had broken up—that had shut Willow’s excited babblings up. Together in secret they had researched to the best of their ability. It was late at night, on one of their particular investigative sessions, when Spike had wandered in on the pair and discovered the texts. To say Spike had been excited was an understatement of immense proportions. He had Buffy’s love, something he would now bet his life on. But the fact that she was carefully considering the claiming process to the point of research was more than he had ever allowed himself to wish for. To be bound to each other forever… it was something he had dared not even dream about. Willow and Buffy had at first tried to lie their way out of the discovery but had failed miserably, a petulant Buffy complaining that Spike had ruined her surprise. A quick scolding, and a promise from Willow that if they went through with this and Spike ever hurt Buffy he’d be a dead man—again—the wicca realized that the best person to speak to about vampiric claiming would obviously be a vampire. Spike glossed over the details, not wanting to spoil all the surprises that he had been informed of in his youthful days as a newly turned vampire. Angelus had taken great pleasure in pointing out the fact that Dru would never claim William, no matter how much she cared for him, because she also loved her ‘Daddy’. Even though Spike knew Angel was well and truly out of the picture he couldn’t help the smug grin that had crossed his face with the knowledge that the love of their lives was choosing him, and not his grandsire. All it had taken was the mention of ‘a shag’ to cause both women to decide this was something that should probably be discussed in private; Buffy and Spike leaving Willow in the library and heading in the direction of their ‘wing’. With the door closed, it was a matter of seconds before clothing was flying throughout the room and the lovers found themselves in a naked embrace, enjoyed in the comfort of their bed. “Buffy, love,” Spike whispered. “Are you sure?” The mere thought that Buffy wanted to go through with this was enough for him, knowing that she cared enough to consider it. The last thing he would want was for her to do this only because she thought he wanted her to. “I’m sure,” Buffy replied with a loving smile, which quickly became mischievous as a hand snuck between their bodies and gripped his erection tightly. Spike’s responding gasp and growl was all the encouragement Buffy needed before she claimed his lips in a devouring kiss, all the while her hand pumping and teasing. He desperately broke the kiss, panting unnecessarily as he locked his gaze with hers. “Love, if you keep that up I’m not going to last much longer,” he confessed. It didn’t matter how many time they had coupled since that last night in L.A., being with Buffy was something Spike still treasured every moment of. And when she worked him like she was working him right now, it wasn’t easy to stave off his release. When all the response he got was a cheeky little laugh Spike decided it was time to even the playing field. In a practiced move he flipped them over, his mouth seeking out and latching onto a pert rosy nipple. Buffy gasped in pleasure and her hand stilled as she bucked her hips up off the bed in response to the sensations his lips on her breast were drawing out. A lascivious smile curled at Spike’s lips the moment she became distracted and he took advantage of that moment to snake a hand between their bodies, finding the small nub of her clitoris with two fingers and pinching it gently. Buffy gasped again, the intake of breath becoming a breathy moan as she exhaled. “Spike…” “Yes, love?” he grinned. “More… I need…” “I know what you need,” Spike said knowingly, his lips returning to her breast to suckle at the previously ignored nipple whilst he continued stroking the warm heat of her sex. Buffy practically growled with frustration and decided to get her own back by continuing her stalled ministrations. She felt his cock jump in her hand when her thumb brushed over the tip, wiping away the pre-cum and teasing the head with her gentle touches. “Two can play at that game,” she laughed breathily when Spike growled with want, his hips pushing towards her hands. “No more games,” Spike decided for the both of them, dragging her hands up and over her head and pinning them gently with his. In understanding Buffy bent her knees and opened her legs to give Spike access to-- “Nyaaahhh!” Buffy gasped when Spike’s sizeable girth stretched her inner walls in one quick thrust. “Buffy…” Spike murmured into her hair, forgetting everything in his mind, his love for the woman beneath him and the sensations of pleasure she created for him the only things he thought of. Buffy met each downward thrust of Spike’s hips by raising her own, legs wrapping around his hips as her hands tangled in his hair and freed his curls from the hold of the gel. Lips found lips and tongues danced a familiar dance as their coupling intensified. Moans, groans, gasps and growls were the only sounds the filled the room for many minutes before Buffy spoke. “Spike, you said that…” Buffy cut her own sentence off with a gasp when Spike’s fingers once again found their way to her nether lips, the stroking of his hand in time with the thrust of his hips. “Yes, love?” Spike responded, grunting when Buffy angled her hips just so in a way that maximized the pleasure for both of them. “Huh?” Buffy murmured, having momentarily forgotten what she had been about to say. Spike laughed, immensely proud of the fact that he could distract his girl to the point of forgetting her train of thought. “Oh… right,” Buffy remembered. “Before, in the library…” She gasped again before forcing herself to continue. “You said something about… about… about shagging… and…” “We are…” Spike growled; his eyes fluttering shut for a moment when he felt his impending release arising. “We are shhhhaaagging…” he struggled. Buffy laughed momentarily before a particularly strong roll of pleasure interrupted her mirth. “I-I’m going to…” “I know. I’m cl…” Spike began to confess but finding his concentration waning when Buffy sped up her thrusts. “Buf-Buffy!” “I know,” Buffy announced with a gasp. “I love you, Spike.” “I l-love you,” Spike stammered, his whole body quivering in anticipation. Without thinking Buffy’s mouth latched onto his neck and bit down, her blunt human teeth breaking the skin and causing his blood to flow into her mouth. It was Buffy’s bite that brought on Spike’s release, a strangled cry ripping from his lips as his body tensed, cold seed spilling within her. “Buffy!” Spike gasped in surprised seconds later when he found his voice, his hips resuming their thrusting when he felt her pussy walls clenching him as if trying to strangle to life out of his cock. “Spike!” Buffy gasped as her orgasm washed over her. “You h-have to return it, bite me!” she demanded. “Buf--” Spike growled in primal need when he felt her teeth sink into his neck again. “Mine,” she growled. Spike’s vampiric countenance came forward as his lips found her neck. He hesitated only for a moment until Buffy’s hips lifted to meet his again, using her strongest weapon against him—her sex—to urge him to go through with it. His teeth sank into her neck, her blood filling his mouth as his had filled hers. “Mine,” he murmured against her neck just loud enough for Buffy to hear. The bite caused a second more powerful orgasm to wash over Buffy as Spike’s tongue left his mouth to lave at the open wound, licking up every last dro-- “Buffy, you didn’t hear a word I just said did you?” Willow asked with an amused smile. “Huh?” Buffy blinked, a blush coloring her cheeks when she realized she had slipped into full sex-dream replay mode right in the middle of a conversation. “Oh god, I’m sorry!” she apologised profusely. “I was just --” “Thinking of your honey?” Willow mused. “Would you believe that I was thinking about patrol?” Buffy tried but her guilty expression did nothing to help her lie seem convincing. “Liar!” Willow chuckled. Patrol huh? What you couldn’t think of somethin’ more interestin’ like my lips on your cli-- “Be quiet!” Buffy hissed. Willow blinked in confusion, looking around the room in confusion to confirm their own status before returning her gaze to her friend. “Buffy, who were…” Realization dawned on her and an excited grin crept across Willow’s face. “You two are connected telepathically? I thought that was a myth! Oh wow, just wait till Giles finds out that --” Giles hadn’t been all that impressed at first upon finding out that Buffy had mated with a vampire, nor the fact that they had left it several weeks after the fact before informing him of it. It had been Willow’s stating of the obvious, that having an opportunity to document the effects of a claiming between a vampire and human mate, that had somewhat dampened his irritation. All aspects involving the couple’s sex life was, of course, not included in the report, Giles stating outright that he had seen enough in that training room and that he didn’t want to hear any details. Not even when Spike had suggested that it might be important for their research purposes, a remark that had warranted the vampire a strong punch in the shoulder from his blushing mate. “Yes,” Buffy confirmed. “It’s like I can hear him in my head, like surround sound for a movie.” She smirked mischievously. “Too bad it doesn’t come with a mute button.” Play nice, kitten… Buffy giggled, hearing the growl in his voice as if he were standing right next to her. “He didn’t seem to like that.” I know a way you can mute me. Just bring that hot little mouth of yours up stairs and… Once again Willow’s gaze darted nervously around the room. “It is just telepathy, right?” she asked curiously. “He can’t see what you’re seeing?” “No, he can’t see anything. He can just hear my thoughts, feel what I’m feeling.” Oh, I can see plenty. All I have to do is close my eyes and imagine. You, laying wanton and waiting, spread-eagled on our bed, naked with your hand… “All right, you’re having way too much fun with this Mr,” Buffy scolded. She looked apologetically at her friend, contemplating telling her friend something but figuring it would be over-sharing and the look she was getting from Willow now suggested she had cottoned on to what was going on. “He being all naughty with the sexy thoughts?” Willow asked, almost laughing at Buffy’s surprised blink. When her friend nodded, an impish smile crept its way across the red head’s face. “I know what you could do; it would take him down a peg or two.” “What? Please help me!” Buffy begged. “Does he still have a thing about your past ‘thing’ with Angel?” Willow asked as her smile stretched even wider. A matching grin crept across Buffy’s face as she conjured a picture of her ex in her mind, the sexy taunting in her head immediately stalling with a petulant cry. Hey! And then there was nothing. “Oh, pouty!” Buffy teased. When she still didn’t get a response she frowned. “Will, I think I’m gonna go upst--” “Told you it would work,” Willow laughed as Buffy left the library. ~~~ Buffy opened the door to their bedroom, her eyes finding Spike slouched in a comfy chair in the corner of the room. “Baby,” Buffy began, stopped her forward momentum at his warning growl. “Spike?” “That wasn’t very nice, kitten,” Spike snarled. “Oh, come on! I was just teasing,” Buffy excused. Her expression became blank as Spike’s thoughts went to imagining a dark haired, ivory skinned, crazy vampire slowly stripping off her-- “Okay I get the point!” Buffy shouted. “I won’t do it again.” “Good,” Spike muttered as he lifted himself from the chair and slowly walked towards her. “I don’t like hearin’ in my head you thinkin’ of Peaches.” “You think I like the thought of you fantasizing of Drusilla?” Buffy retorted angrily, her arms folding over her heaving chest, turning her head away from him when he reached out to caress her cheek. “I wasn’t fantasizing. I was just tryin’ to show you that it isn’t nice to do that.” “You were imagining her undressing!” Buffy snapped incredulously. “And it was stupid, I admit that,” he replied honestly when he realized how hurtful that must have been. “Besides, it much more fun to imagine you undressin’,” he added as he curled his tongue behind his teeth, eyes fluttering closed. “Yeah?” Buffy questioned. “In your mind, what am I doing?” “Well, first you…” Buffy listened with interest, keeping all her thoughts focused on his words so as not to give away the fact that she was actually following his directions, stripping off each article of clothing silently in the order that he described. “And then…” Spike’s eyes fluttered open to be met with the naked vision of his mate. His surprised gasp was quickly replaced with a growl of appreciation. “Naughty little minx, distractin’ me like that all the while the real deal is standin’ right before me.” “And what are you going to do about it?” Buffy demanded, placing a hand on her cocked hip. Spike’s expression became predatory and with a delighted squeal Buffy took off at a run to the other side of the room. When his mind began filling with all her naughty little sex act thoughts his patience with buttons evaporated as he tore the shirt clean off his chest, sending them ricocheting throughout the room. Buffy giggled again when his attempts to kick off his boots, remove his black jeans and chase after her all at once, resulted with Spike falling to a heap on the floor. He was just removing the last offending article of clothing when Buffy dropped to her hands and knees by his feet and crawled up his body. Not known for his patience, Spike wrapped his arms around Buffy and pulled her flush against him, the playful expression fading and becoming more serious. These weeks together had been incredible; surpassing all of his wildest expectations ten fold. They lived together now; they slept in the same bed together each night. It wasn’t just sex and it wasn’t puppy love. It was a connection deeper than that. They were building a life together. “I love you, Buffy,” he professed as he linked their scarred hands together, delighting in the jolt that the action sent through him when their flesh connected. “And I love you.” THE END A/N: First of all I want to say a BIG thank you to everyone who has followed this story from the beginning. I appreciate each and every review that was posted, and would LOVE to hear your thoughts on the ending. I chose to finish the story like this for several reasons - if you'd like to know why head over to my LJ. I am more than happy to discuss why I did what I did. (My journal is normally friend locked but I'm going to unlock a post for commenting.) Click here to go to my journal. This was my second piece of fanfic and I was thrilled with the responses I gained from it. Reading everyones comments always brought a smile to my face because you guys read it, and KEPT reading. Which was awesome. Big Thanks go to Megan and Sue for betaing this story. Their help was incredible and their comments are what drove me to write more. Thank you everyone, look out for something new from me in about a weeks time. Until then, happy reading! Amy. ~~~~~~~~~~ Challenge Requirements: Seasons: Post Chosen Challenge: 114 What if Buffy had been the one to go to LA to get the rogue slayer instead of Andrew. She usually is a hands on sorta girl and probably wanted to see it was done properly, hehe. Anyways, what happens when she arrives at Wolfram and Hart where there is a man wondering about who she thought was dead? Must haves: 1. Angel trying to keep them both in the dark about the other one being there (for example -doesn't need to be the idea used, but could use this- Buffy actually sets up a meeting for Angel's cooperation and Angel purposefully makes sure Spike is busy with something far from W&H and that no one mentions him to Buffy... etc) 2. The Immortal at some point at least, or can be an integral character 3. Much Spike/Angel bickering hilarity 4. Spuffyness and Bitey Smuttiness as per rules of the site Can haves: 1. Calling the other Scoobies in for back up? 2. Connor coming back for some reason? 3. Lorne having them all sing to help resolve some "issues" 4. A kid Spike didn't know about Can't haves: 1. Any Buffy/Angel kissing or sex, whatever... that's icky icky icky 2. If you bring the other Scoobies in, no continuing to be asses to Spike (except maybe a little uneasiness from Xander), I mean, he gave his life for them and all! 3. If you bring her in, Dawn immature brat-iness... have her at least mature a little