A/N: The conversation between Giles and Quentin Travers and Kralik's monologue to Joyce are taken directly from the episode Helpless written by David Fury. They are not my words; I'm only borrowing them. Thanks, David! Great episode, by the way.
A/N 2: This fic was written for in response to a challenge she posted at the Bloodshedverse. The challenge requirements can be found here: Challenge #86.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta, avidrosette. Her insights and suggestions are always spot-on. And she catches all the pesky little spelling and grammatical errors, too!

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The old black car sped past the sign and then suddenly screeched to a stop filling the air with the stench of burning rubber. It sat idling for a few seconds, motor rumbling and black smoke pouring from the tailpipe, before the driver slammed it into reverse and shot backwards past the sign again. It stopped a few feet on the other side of the sign and then accelerated forward with a squeal of tires, the back end fishtailing almost out of control. The sound of the crash as the vehicle ran over the sign set dozens of roosting birds to flight. Without further delay, the car disappeared down the highway leading into town.

The ruined sign lay face up on the ground with tire tracks marring the words: WELCOME TO SUNNYDALE.

***

Spike pulled to a stop across the street from a neat, modest two-story house and cut the engine. He lit a cigarette and stared at the darkened home from the front seat of his car. It was just before dawn and the neighborhood was empty and silent; even the Slayer was safely tucked away in her warm little bed. He wondered if he could still enter the house. Had she removed his invitation? Probably. Bitch wouldn't want to take the chance that he'd come in and visit with her mum again. As if he'd hurt Joyce, he fumed inwardly. Lady'd been real nice to him. He might be a monster, but he wasn’t that much of a monster.

Feeling the weight of the coming dawn, he flicked the cigarette butt out the window, started the car and drove away. He turned the car in the direction of the old factory where he and Dru had headquartered during their stay in Sunnydale. He'd used it again when he'd returned here a couple months back. It wouldn't do for long term – the Slayer was too familiar with it – but it'd do for today.

At the thought of Dru and the Chaos Demon she'd taken up with his fangs itched. So he was covered in the Slayer, was he? The only thing he planned to be covered in was the Slayer's blood. He'd come back once before to do it, but he'd gotten distracted. Not this time though. He wasn't leaving this time until he'd bathed in the Slayer's blood. That would show Dru just how daft she was. Not that he cared what Drusilla thought. He'd returned to South America after his last visit to Sunnydale with a plan to get Dru back – a good plan, one guaranteed to make her like him again - only to find her shacked up with that slimy ponce. And no matter what he said or did, she'd have none of him; just kept babbling on about him and the Slayer until he nearly went mad himself. When he could take no more of it, he'd left. And he was fine with it. He was William the fucking Bloody, the Slayer of Slayers, and a legend in his own time. He didn't need Dru. They were through, and he vowed never to be under another woman's thumb.

***

Spike spent the day holed up in the old factory and as soon as the sun went down he went out hunting for both dinner and new lodgings. His dinner needs were easily taken care of – the stupid people of Sunnydale just never learned to stay home after dark – but he was having a harder time finding a decent place to stay. The better crypts and abandoned buildings he'd checked out were already occupied, and though it would have been an easy thing to get rid of the occupants, Spike wanted to keep a low profile for the time being. No sense in letting the Slayer or Angel in on the fact that he was back in town. Not just yet, any way. All things in good time as his mum used to say.

He was passing through a park when he heard the sound of running feet. Glancing around, he located a hiding place just as a fleeing vampire came into view with the Slayer in hot pursuit. The Slayer caught up with her prey, and the taunting and ass-kicking began. Spike remained hidden waiting for the inevitable outcome of quickly dusted vampire. He leaned forward interestedly with one eyebrow raised in surprise when, just as the Slayer was moving in for the kill, she swayed on her feet and stepped back away from her opponent.

The vampire she was fighting took advantage of the opening she'd left and leapt on her, forcing her to the ground. From his vantage point, it was hard to see what was happening between them but it looked to Spike as if the vampire was pressing the Slayer's own stake to her chest. Spike felt a wave of rage and disappointment that a no-name vampire was going to off the Slayer and was about to interfere when suddenly she head-butted the vampire and then managed to throw him off her. A scramble for the now loose stake, an ill-timed lunge, and it was all over. She shakily brushed the vampire's dust off her clothes and drew in several deep breaths of air before getting back to her feet and clumsily running out of the park.

Spike rose from the crouch he'd been in and stood upright on the roof of the shelter where he'd taken refuge.

"Well, well, well," he murmured to himself. "Looks like the Slayer's a bit off her game tonight." Jumping gracefully to the ground, his coat billowing out around him like wings, he headed off in the Slayer's wake. He easily caught up with her and followed at a discreet distance keeping her in sight until she crawled into her bedroom window. Lighting a cigarette, he stood under a tree near the house and watched until her bedroom light went out, then crushed out his cigarette and walked away. Things might be more interesting this time around than he'd ever anticipated.

***

The following evening, Spike continued his quest for a place to stay. Although whatever was wrong with the Slayer might make his stay in town shorter than he'd expected, he still wanted a secure lair until he was finished with her. He thought he remembered an old, abandoned boardinghouse on Prescott Lane and headed that way after having his meal. He'd just turned the corner onto Prescott when a small, beat-up Citroen pulled up to the curb in front of the boardinghouse. Spike quickly ducked back out of sight when he saw Rupert Giles exit the vehicle and climb the steps of the very building Spike was thinking of making his home. Curiosity aroused, Spike silently approached the building. The door opened to Giles's knock and the Watcher entered. Spike hurried around back and found a narrow basement window. The glass had long since gone missing, but bars were set into the window frame to protect the space from intruders. It was an easy thing to pull the bars out of the crumbling masonry however, and he slipped into the building. The window was set about ten feet above the basement floor, and he dropped lightly down. Vamping out to give himself better vision in the dark, he located steps that led to the first floor. A quick listen at the top assured him that no one was on the other side of the door. Opening it, he slipped through and then followed the sound of voices coming from a parlor. A man was working on a door in the front hallway, and Spike pulled back out of sight. From his hiding place he was able to hear clearly Giles speaking with another man - an Englishman, judging by his accent.

"You're having doubts," the stranger said. "Cruciamentum is not easy for Slayer or Watcher. But it's been done this way for a dozen centuries. Whenever a Slayer turns eighteen. It's a time-honored rite of passage."

"It's an archaic exercise in cruelty," Giles answered forcefully. "To lock her in this...tomb...weakened, defenseless"

Giles had more to say, but Spike tuned him out fascinated by what he'd just heard. So, the Council of Wankers was putting the Slayer through some sort of ritual, were they? And they'd done something to her that was making her all weak and helpless, a tender plum just ripe for the plucking. That really was too great a temptation. Spike hadn't planned on confronting the Slayer just yet - he had enough respect for her fighting ability to want to plan it carefully - but really, when her own Watcher was making him a gift of her, it would be churlish to refuse it.

He turned his attention back to the two men just in time to hear the stranger say, "And believe me, once this is all over, your Buffy will be stronger for it."

"Or she'll be dead for it." Giles said softly.

Spike smiled to himself. Oh, she'll be dead for it, Watcher, he thought. Count on it.

Hearing the sound of movement inside the room, he pulled farther back into the darkened hallway, remaining motionless lest he give himself away. When he was sure the way was clear, he headed for the basement wondering just when this "Cruciamentum" was going to take place. Judging from the Slayer's condition last night, it wouldn't be long.

He'd just slipped through the basement door when he heard a blood-curdling shriek and pounding come from somewhere in the house. He started at the sound and despite himself felt a cold chill run down his spine.

Just what the fuck did they have planned for the Slayer?

***

The next night he got to the boardinghouse much later than he planned. It'd been a good fight, he had to admit that, but he could have done without the time wasted in taking out a swaggering group of vampires that still had grave dirt in their hair. He probably should have foregone chasing them down after they'd run off. Still, the pillocks hadn't had the sense to make way for their betters, an insult Spike couldn't let stand. God, he hated the newly risen. It made him wonder sometimes why Angelus hadn't staked him those first few years.

Spike removed the bars he'd set back in the basement window and entered the boardinghouse the same way he had the night before. Exiting the basement, he stood with all senses alert. He felt nothing on the first floor, so he silently climbed the stairs. He heard the frantic heartbeat and the rumble of a male voice long before he reached the top of the stairs. Bugger! She must already be here. And someone was with her. Well, he'd take care of that in short order, and then he'd play a bit with the Slayer before he killed her.

Following the sounds, he saw flashes of light coming from a bedroom up ahead. As he neared the room he heard the man say, "But she's dead to me now. Mostly because I killed and ate her."

Spike paused. Ah, so it was a vampire, was it? Well, even better. His blood was up from his earlier fight, so he was more than ready to take on the Slayer's monster for her. Unlike her, he was at full strength. Spike missed some of what the vampire was saying, but as he crept nearer to the room he heard it say, "But also because I know I won't be alone much longer. I'll have your daughter."

Spike paused again. What? Daughter?

"I won't kill her," the vampire said. "I'll just make her like me. Different. She'll go to sleep, and when she wakes up, your face will be the first thing she eats." There was a short pause. "I have a problem with mothers," he giggled. "I'm aware of that."

"Well, mate, maybe you do, but this time you've picked on the wrong mother."

Spike swaggered into the room and saw that the floor was littered with dozens of photographs of the woman who sat bound and gagged in a chair. Joyce whipped her head around and squeaked "Spike!" through her gag.

"Hullo, Joyce," Spike said casually. "Just hold on. I'll kill this pillock and get you loose in half a mo."

"Friend of yours?" the vampire asked Joyce pleasantly. Straightening up, he said, "That's nice. Now you get to see me kill your friend as well as eat your daughter."

He lunged toward Spike and knocked him back into the hallway. Spike was amazed at his speed and strength, but managed to knock him aside. When the vampire came towards him again, he kicked out, but missed when the vampire jumped back. The vampire caught his leg and tossed him back like a caber. Spike landed hard and slid down the dusty hallway on his back and then flipped to his feet when he finally came to a halt. The narrow hallway made maneuvering difficult, and Spike was pretty much limited to throwing punches and knocking the crazed creature about. Plaster filtered through the air as the two vampires slammed each other around knocking holes in the walls. Spike was beginning to think that he might be overmatched when his head cracked on a solid wood doorframe after a particularly hard punch from his opponent. A fist connected with his side and he doubled over in pain, certain a couple of ribs had cracked. Another punch smashed into his face breaking his nose and hurling Spike back into the room where Joyce was held prisoner. He flew across the room and crashed into the far wall. When he looked up again, the vampire had disappeared.

Spike sat up, shook his head slightly to clear it and glanced over at Joyce through swollen eyes. "Guess I scared him off," he grinned crookedly wiping away the blood that poured from his nose with the back of his hand. Getting to his feet, he limped over to Joyce. She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes, and Spike smiled at her as best he could through his split lip. Reaching behind her head, he untied her gag.

"Oh, God, Spike," Joyce exclaimed. "He's going to kill Buffy. Please help her."

"Don't worry about Buffy," he said, as he examined the ropes. "Slayer can take care of herself." He saw no need to tell Joyce that Buffy was as good as dead. Too bad. He'd really wanted to kill her himself. He ignored the faint flash of guilt he felt as he turned away from the look of fear he saw on Joyce's face. In his current condition, there wasn't anything he could do to help the Slayer even if he wanted to.

He tugged at the knots securing Joyce's bonds, but they didn't give. "Bastard knows how to tie a knot," he grunted, and reached into his boot to pull out a knife. He had just angled around to begin cutting the ropes when Joyce yelled out, "Spike!"

Her warning came just in time for him to avoid getting staked in the heart from behind but not in time for him to avoid the attack entirely. The sharp point of the stake plunged deep into his shoulder and Spike bellowed in pain. Whipping around, he grabbed the stake out of the hand of a vampire he hadn't seen before. Knocking the vamp back, he lunged forward and drove the stake home. The vamp exploded into dust, and Spike slumped tiredly to the floor.

"Spike?" Joyce called out in a worried voice. He could hear her struggling against her bonds. Breathing in deeply to control the wave of pain the coursed through his body, he got up and stumbled over to her. Picking up the knife, he cut through the ropes holding her captive.

As soon as she was free, Joyce started to run toward the door. Spike caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "Be careful," he warned. "We don't know where he is."

"He's going after Buffy, Spike," Joyce exclaimed. "We have to help her." Wrenching free from his grasp, she ran from the room. Spike stood for a moment in indecision and then muttering, "Bugger!" he raced out after her.

Spike and Joyce were halfway down the stairs when they saw the vampire and Buffy. They were between the stairs and the front door making it impossible for Spike to simply pick Joyce up and carry her outside to safety leaving Buffy to her own devices. Of course, if he did such a thing, Joyce would never forgive him, and he didn't like the thought of that. He didn't know why Joyce's good opinion of him mattered so much, but it did.

The vampire had Buffy by the throat and she stood immobile before him. Joyce gasped in horror at the sight and called out, "Buffy!" The sound of her mother's voice snapped Buffy out of whatever trance she was in, and she slammed her knee into the vampire's groin. It let out a bellow of pain and Buffy was able to jerk out of his grasp. Turning, she ran toward her mother but stumbled when she saw Spike. Her stumble allowed the vampire to catch up with her again. Reaching Buffy he spun her around and grabbed her hair, pulling her head aside exposing her neck.

"Mother," it said giving Joyce a hideous mockery of a smile. "You're just in time to see me eat your daughter."

Buffy didn't give the vampire time to lower his fangs. Pulling a large cross out of her overalls, she held it up.

That's it, Slayer, Spike thought, shocked that he was actually cheering Buffy on. His thoughts were interrupted when the vampire snatched the cross out of Buffy's hand and started to rub it over his bare stomach and moan in pleasure as his flesh smoked. Spike and Buffy both recoiled in revulsion at the display. Buffy again turned and ran toward the stairs, but the vampire was too fast for her, and he once again caught her.

"Spike, do something, please!" Joyce begged him.

With only a slight hesitation, Spike ripped one of the posts from the banister and hurled it at the vampire with all his might. He cried out in pain as the wound in his shoulder split open again and blood gushed. The post hit the vampire hard on the head, knocking him to the floor and stunning him. Buffy took off running. She reached her mother and grabbing her by the arm, she cried, "Come on! Up the stairs."

Noticing that Spike was slumped over the railing in pain, Joyce urged her daughter, "Help him, Buffy."

Buffy looked at her mother in shock, but a roar from the vampire gave her no time to argue. She slipped an arm around Spike's waist and they all rushed up the steps. Joyce led them back to the bedroom that had been her prison.

They stumbled into the room and Buffy slammed the solid oak door shut, locked it, and flipped the deadbolt into place. Spike staggered over to a heavy, old-fashioned wardrobe and placing his good shoulder against it, pushed it in front of the door. Pain radiated through his body, and he gasped as the wardrobe slid across the floor. He leaned against it, breathing deeply and watched Buffy and her mother hug.

"Honey, are you all right?" Joyce asked worriedly as she examined the cuts and bruises that marred her daughter's face.

"Yeah, I'll be okay, mom," Buffy assured her mother. "What about you? Did that vampire or," she glanced nervously at Spike, "Spike hurt you?"

"I'm all right, Buffy; Spike helped me." Smiling slightly at the incredulous look on Buffy's face, Joyce came over to him. "Are you all right, Spike?"

He smiled slightly. "Been better."

A pounding started on the door as the vampire attempted to break into the room, and Spike glanced at Buffy. "Hope you got some weapons tucked away in your knickers, Slayer. Otherwise, it was a short life, but a merry one."

Buffy raised a shaking hand to a deep gash in her forehead. "I lost my bag downstairs. I don't have any weapons on me."

Spike sighed as another thump hit the door. He might be able to leap from one of the windows and make his escape, but there was no way Joyce or Buffy could. Forcing himself to stand upright, he berated himself as a fool for what he was going to say. "Right then, here's what we'll do," he said to Buffy. "When he breaks in, I'll try to hold him off, at least long enough for you to get your mum out of here. Maybe you can grab your weapons on the way out, use some more of that Slayer's luck of yours. Take him out. At the very least, you'll have a chance to get away."

"But what about you, Spike?" Joyce asked worriedly. Spike just shrugged. Joyce turned to her daughter. "Buffy, there's got to be another way. Surely the two of you together..."

Buffy shook her head. "Giles... Giles injected me with something. It took away my powers."

Joyce looked at her daughter in shock. "Why, Buffy? Why would he do that?"

Buffy's face tightened. "It's some Council thing to test their Slayers on their eighteenth birthday, if they live that long. Kralik's the Council's idea of a birthday present. I was supposed to get locked in here alone with that thing. Giles told me about it, called the test off. But then when I got home and found that photograph..."

"You shouldn't have come alone, Buffy," Joyce said, pushing a strand of hair back from her daughter's face.

"I didn't want to waste time getting to you, mom," Buffy said looking solemnly at her mother. Then she sighed. "But you saw what happened. I can't fight that vamp. He's too strong. Even hurt as Spike is, he's got more of a chance against him than I do. I'm not even sure what I can do to help."

Joyce opened her mouth to speak again when the vampire on the other side of the door let out an agonized scream. Spike could hear the sound of stumbling feet moving away from them. Joyce looked at the door and then turned a hopeful face to her daughter.

"Did he leave?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Buffy said with a frown. "I think he has fits or something. When he first found me, he..." She pointed to her battered face. "I thought he was going to kill me, but all of a sudden he screamed and started shaking. I was able to break away from him, but he caught up with me again before I could run very far. I think he'll be back and soon."

Spike agreed with the Slayer. He didn't believe for an instant that Kralik, had given up, which meant that it was only a matter of time before they were all dead. Spike had an idea. He didn't think the Slayer would go for it, but it was the best chance they had for any of them to get out of this mess alive.

"There may be a way to save all of us," he said.

"How?" Buffy said, turning her attention away from the now quiet door.

Spike stared at Buffy, knowing that his suggestion was not going to go over well. "I need blood. To help me heal, get my strength back."

Both Buffy's and Joyce's faces paled and they drew back from him. "No!" Buffy said. "No way. You think I'm going to let you feed from us?"

Spike shook his head. "Not feed, exactly. You're the Slayer. Just a bit of your blood will be enough to fix me up in short order."

"Spike," Joyce said nervously, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Look, you know as well as I do that I'm not going to be able to hold him long. The Slayer's blood is the only chance we've got." Turning away from them, he moved painfully to the wooden chair Joyce had been bound to and smashed it against the wall, breaking it into several pieces. Holding his ribs, he carefully bent over and picked up a makeshift stake. Returning to Joyce, he handed it to her.

"Slayer's blood is potent; more potent than a dozen normal humans. I should only need three or four good mouthfuls - no more than she'd lose giving blood to the Red Cross. I don't release her, you think I'm taking too much, you use this."

Joyce nodded, holding the stake in a shaking hand. She looked at her daughter. "Buffy?"

Buffy nibbled at her lower lip, considering. Shaking her head, she said, "Even if I were willing to do this, my blood's tainted. I told you. They did something to me."

"Toxins don't bother me," he assured her. The door shuddered again. Kralik had returned. "Look, we do this, or we take our chances that I can hold him long enough for you two to get away. It's up to you, Slayer."

Buffy swallowed and her body began to tremble visibly. She looked toward the door that was in danger of breaking at any minute and turned back to her mother. "Don't hesitate to use that stake, Mom."

Joyce nodded and clutched the stake tighter.

At her nod of assent, Spike moved closer to Buffy. He couldn't believe it. He was finally going to get to sink his fangs into that sweet neck. Up until this moment, he'd never considered anything but killing her. But now, seeing how she'd come here to rescue her mum despite the loss of her powers, seeing how frightened she was of this and yet bravely doing it, he felt something - a shimmer of admiration. He also felt a stirring in his jeans, and he had to swallow to ease his suddenly dry mouth. He leaned into her placing his hands lightly on her shoulders and whispered, "Don't worry, Buffy. I'll make it so it doesn't hurt."

She stiffened slightly as he lowered his head to her neck. He meant to sink his fangs into her immediately before she changed her mind. Instead he inhaled, breathing in her scent. She smelled of sweat, and fear, and girl. Finding her pulse point, he placed the tip of his tongue on the throbbing vein. Buffy gasped and clutched at his coat sleeve. He ran his tongue along the vein, nibbling lightly with blunt teeth, and he felt Buffy shiver. Another scent came to his nostrils then. A scent that caused him to harden instantly. Buffy was becoming aroused.

The sound of wood splintering as the oak door began to break apart under Kralik's assault brought Spike back to his senses. Shifting into game face, he slid his fangs into her neck. Buffy gasped and then moaned as she relaxed against him. He filled his mouth with the sweetest blood he'd ever tasted, swallowed, filled his mouth again, swallowed, and filled it again. God, it was good. He wanted to lay her down on the floor and give her his all while he supped, but he kept enough awareness about him to take one last swallow and withdraw from her. He held her to him as he ran his tongue over the punctures left by his fangs, licking up the last few drops and listening to Buffy's rapid breathing.

"Buffy? Spike?"

He lifted his head away from Buffy and looked over at Joyce through half-closed eyes. Her face was pink with embarrassment, and he realized that what had happened must have looked as intimate as it felt.

Pulling away from the Slayer, he said, "Right then," and stepped back a few feet. Buffy inhaled a shuddering breath and took the lace-trimmed handkerchief her mother handed her and held it to her neck.

"Is it working?" she asked quietly, not looking at him.

Spike took a deep breath and smiled. "Ribs are healing nicely. Shoulder feels good. How's my face look?"

Buffy glanced at him and looked away. "It's healing, too."

It took only a matter of minutes for the Slayer's blood to work its magic. When Spike was nearly completely healed, he moved over to the wardrobe to study how much longer it would be before the vampire had the door completely destroyed. He glanced at Buffy when she came to stand beside him.

"What are you really up to, Spike? How come you're here and why are you helping us?" she asked in a low voice.

Spike tilted his head a bit to the side deciding what to tell her then shrugged. "I found out about this little soiree and came to kill you," he answered in an equally soft voice. "Instead I found Joyce tied up with your new boyfriend hovering over her."

"And so, what? You decided to save my mom?"

"Yeah, Slayer, that's exactly what I decided to do. You may not believe me, but I like your mum. She's good people. Treats me nice."

Buffy looked at him in wide-eyed dismay. "Oh, God. You're not in love with her, are you?"

"No!" he exclaimed, shocked at the very thought. Glancing over at Joyce who was watching them anxiously, he lowered his voice again. "I just like her. As a friend."

Buffy stared at him dubiously for a minute then shook her head. "I think you mean it."

"Yeah," Spike said in an affronted voice. "I do."

A final crack of the door's wood and Spike knew the time had come. "Go stand by your mother, Slayer, and when I push this wardrobe out of the way, you get ready to run. Got it?"

Buffy nodded and hurried to Joyce's side. Spike took in a deep breath, waited for the perfect moment and shoved the wardrobe out of the way. The vampire fell into the room, and Spike made a flying leap, knocking him across the room and holding him while the Slayer and Joyce ran out the door. The vampire threw him off and jumped up with a crazed scream, but Buffy's blood was in Spike's veins now, and he was up and on him again faster than a human eye could follow. He heard Buffy yell at her mother, "Mom, go, now!" and then his fist connected with the vampire's face and he was back in the fight. They crashed around the room, smashing furniture and punching more holes in the old plaster walls. Spike was vaguely aware of Buffy's presence in the room, scrambling out of the way of the battle. They fell to the floor, rolling across the space, each trying to gain the advantage until Spike rolled them both over so that he lay on the floor and Kralik lay top of him, his back to Spike's front. Spike pinned Kralik's arms and wrapped his legs around the vampire's legs. Holding him immobile, Spike shouted, "Buffy, now!"

Buffy was there immediately with a stake. It was only as the stake was descending that Spike realized that in his present position, she could easily stake him as well.

The stake entered Kralik's chest, continued on through the dusty remains and stopped with the point just touching the skin above Spike's heart. They froze, staring into each other's eyes.

"Buffy!"

They looked up to see Giles and Angel standing in the broken doorway, identical looks of shock on their faces. Spike wasn't sure how long they'd been there, but he was sure they'd seen the last bit. Buffy straightened away from Spike.

"Buffy," Giles said anxiously. "My God, are you all right?"

"Where's my mother?" Buffy asked Angel, ignoring her Watcher.

"Downstairs," he answered. "We got here just as she was running out of the house. She told us you were up here fighting that thing. What's Spike doing here?"

"Saving my mother," Buffy answered as she pushed past the two men.

Spike smirked at Giles. "Sorry to ruin your little test, Giles."

"What are you really doing here, Spike?" Angel said in a threatening voice.

Spike just raised an eyebrow at him. He'd burned off a lot of the extra juice he'd gotten from the Slayer, but he was pretty sure he had enough left to kick Angel's ass should it be necessary.

"Just as the girl said," he smirked. "Saving the day. Looks like you're not the only undead hero in town anymore."

"Spike," Angel growled taking a menacing step toward him.

"Angel!" Buffy called from downstairs.

"Stay away from Buffy, Spike," Angel warned. "And her mother." Glaring at Spike one last time, he went to join Buffy. Giles looked around at the destruction of the room, and then turned, shoulders slumped, and followed after. If Spike had given half a rat's ass about the Watcher, he'd almost have felt bad for him.

He followed Giles downstairs in time to hear Buffy ask Angel, "Did you bring your car? I want to get my mom home."

Angel shook his head. "I came with Giles, Buffy. He came and got me to help you."

She smiled at Angel, and Spike felt a jealous rage flash through him. He'd saved them, yet it was Angel got her smiles.

"I'll gladly take Joyce home, Buffy," Giles said. "But then we need to go back to the school. Quentin Travers from the Watcher's Council is waiting for us."

"Good," Buffy said through gritted teeth. "I have a few things to say to him too." Turning to her mom, she said, "Angel can stay with you while I'm at the school."

"No!" Joyce blurted, and Spike couldn't help but notice the look of distrust she gave Angel before she looked away. In a calmer voice, she said, "That's not necessary, Buffy. I'll be fine at home until you get back."

Buffy nodded and the four of them were heading for the door when Joyce suddenly turned around and called, "Spike!"

"Yeah?"

She walked up to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you for saving my life. And Buffy's."

Spike ducked his head shyly. "'t's all right, Joyce."

Ignoring the looks on the two men's faces, she turned and swept out of the old boardinghouse. Buffy looked at Spike then and gave him a small smile before following after her mother.

***

Spike lurked outside of Sunnydale High School waiting for the Slayer to finish with the meeting with her Watcher and the Head Wanker. He didn't know why he was wasting his time. She'd probably get a ride home with Giles. And even if she didn't she wouldn't trust him enough to allow him to walk her home.

And why the bloody hell did he want to walk her home from school like he was a sodding teenager with a crush on the head cheerleader? He was acting like a prat. He had just turned away to leave when the doors slammed open and a very brassed off Slayer stormed down the steps. He hurried to get ahead of her and timing it just right, he casually stepped out of the shadows.

She jumped back with a gasp until she realized who it was, and then she said warily, "What do you want, Spike?"

Spike shrugged casually and said, "Just spent a lot of time and effort saving your sorry ass, Slayer. Wanted to make sure you got home safely to your mother."

Buffy blinked. "You want to walk me home?"

"If you want."

Buffy hesitated, and Spike could almost see the thoughts running through her head. Should she trust him? Should she try to stake him? Should she turn and try to run away? He made no move, threatening or otherwise, and finally she gave a slight shrug.

"Yeah, all right, as long as you promise not to try and eat me."

Spike smirked, "Well, as to that..."

At her glare he gave in and said, "Promise I won't hurt you, Buffy."

She eyed him distrustfully, but allowed him to fall into step beside her. They walked silently down the street casting glances at each other, until Spike said, "So, how do you feel? All right?"

"According to Giles, I'll be back to normal in a couple days."

"Yeah? And how about this?" he asked, stopping and brushing his thumb across his bite mark on her neck. "This hurt?"

Buffy's breathing picked up and he felt her quiver under his touch. "No," she whispered.

Unable to resist, he lowered his head and touched his tongue to the small puckered marks. Buffy inhaled sharply and whispered, "Spike."

He stepped closer to her, pulling her body up to his and sliding his tongue up her neck just as he had at the boardinghouse.

"Spike, what are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"Tasting you," he murmured as his lips slid back down her neck and across her shoulder. Her scent filled his nostrils; her taste was sweet on his tongue. He didn't question where this sudden, demanding need for her came from. He only knew he'd felt it first when she'd bared her neck to him in that shabby room in a rundown boardinghouse. And he knew she'd felt something too. He could scent it then just as he did now.

Drawing his lips back to his mark, he nibbled at her neck and heard her moan in answer. Lifting his head slightly, he looked into her heavy-lidded eyes and lowered his mouth to hers. Buffy stiffened in his arms for a moment and then her mouth opened to him. Their tongues touched and Spike felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. Fire flared in his blood, and he pulled her tighter against him. Buffy's hands moved feather-light over his arms, as if she were both afraid and yet desperate to touch him.

Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he picked her up and moved them back into the shadows behind a stand of trees and pressed her against a wall. Releasing his hold on her body, he moved his hands to grab her face as he plied kisses on her eyes and cheeks and mouth.

He wanted her blood again, and yet he didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to hear her moan in pleasure, not pain. The bulky fabric of the overalls she was wearing insulated her body from him, and his hands located the clasps that fastened the straps to the bib. He quickly worked them free and the over-large garment slipped to the ground.

Buffy gasped as he cupped her breasts, squeezing and pinching the nipples into a hard point. Pushing her bra up, he took her into his mouth, sucking, teasing, and nipping at the tender flesh. Buffy was squirming, her hands pushing him away and then pulling him to her as she tried to fight against what was happening between them. He knew when her desire for him won over her resistance, and he claimed her mouth again as he slipped a hand down past the waistband of her panties. She was hot and wet and ready for him. His finger slid easily over her, and she began to whimper under his touch, her hands clutching frantically at his coat sleeves. He released her mouth, shifted into game face and slid his fangs expertly into the same wounds he'd made before.

His senses reeled as her rich blood filled his mouth again. Slipping a finger inside her, he pleasured her as he drank. He'd taken only two mouthfuls when she came, calling his name.

Reluctantly, he withdrew both his hand and his fangs from her. He rested his head against the brick wall upon which they leaned bringing himself back under control as he licked up the last few drops of her blood.

When Buffy's breathing and heartbeat slowed down, he pulled back and looked at her. She had her head turned away from him as if ashamed of what had just happened.

"You all right, pet?" he asked gently.

Buffy nodded and then looked at him resolutely. "Get back, Spike."

He raised his eyebrow, but did as she commanded. Buffy bent down, quickly pulled up her overalls and fastened them. When she finished, she looked at him coldly.

"I don't know what just happened here, Spike, some kind of vampire thrall or something, but this never happened and it's never going to happen again."

Spike just smirked. "Don't do thrall, sweetheart."

"Don't call me 'sweetheart'," Buffy snapped, brushing past him and returning to the sidewalk to continue her walk home. Spike fell into step beside her. She glared at him and sped up, but without her Slayer powers there was no contest, and she soon slowed down again, slightly winded.

They didn't talk again until they were halfway up the front walk of Buffy's house. She stopped and turned to him. "I'm going to be back to full strength in a couple days, Spike. Be gone from Sunnydale by then."

"No."

Buffy's mouth thinned out in an angry line. "You saved my mother's life tonight, so I owe you. But I can't allow you to stay and hunt in my town, Spike. I can't."

Spike considered his options for a second and then said with a nod, "All right."

He was interested to note that she looked equal parts relieved and disappointed. "You'll leave then?"

"Told you, I'm not leaving."

"But..."

"It won't to be easy for me, won't lie to you about that, but I won't hunt."

"What? Why?"

"Because I want more of what didn't just happen between us."

The expression on Buffy's face hardened again. "I told you. That's never going to happen again. I don't understand why it did this time, except maybe it was the stress I was under, and you were..."

"Irresistible?" he asked with an amused smirk.

Buffy blushed, and then said firmly, "I love Angel."

Spike tilted his head a bit to the right. "So, you two having it off, are you? Aren't you afraid of unleashing the beast again?"

"No! I mean, no, we're not, uh, intimate."

Spike reached up with one hand and gently cupped her face running his thumb lightly over her cheek. "Oh, Slayer. A passionate woman like you was made for loving, not celibacy."

Buffy shivered slightly and leaned into his touch, then catching herself, she glared at him again, stepped back, turned, and walked away. "I'm going to go check on my mother."

Spike followed her and was surprised when she didn't slam the door in his face. He hesitated at the threshold and then took a deep breath and stepped forward. Right into the Summers' home. He felt a wave of surprised relief. She hadn't locked him out.

He shut the front door and followed Buffy through the dining room and into the kitchen where Joyce was sitting at the counter, a stack of papers in front of her. Buffy had slid onto a stool across from her mother and she ignored Spike when he entered the kitchen.

"Spike!" Joyce smiled warmly in greeting when she saw him.

"Hullo, Joyce. See you're recovering nicely."

"Yes, thanks to you. I'm glad you stopped by. I think we need to celebrate getting out of that dreadful place alive." Getting up from her seat, she went to a cabinet. Reaching in, she asked Spike, "It's the small ones you like, isn't it?" and pulled out a bag of miniature marshmallows. Spike smiled in delight and sat down on the stool next to Buffy.

"Yeah."

As Joyce bustled around the kitchen getting all the ingredients together, Spike relaxed. He was sitting hip-to-hip and thigh-to-thigh next to Buffy who wasn't moving away from him, and her mother was fixing him hot chocolate. His plans had changed completely, but then he was an adaptable bloke. Buffy might think she was in love with Angel now, but he hadn't turned his full charm on her yet. Slayer wouldn't know what hit her. Yeah, he'd give up the hunt. For now, anyway.

The Slayer would be worth it.


The End