John quickened his steps when he heard another twig snap behind him. It was probably too late to think it, but walking in a cemetery at night was a dumb thing to do. And instinct told him that the only reason he knew he was being followed was because the creature hunting him wanted him to know it was there. His heart pounded wildly in his chest and while he now regretted this little field trip to get the feel of where he’d lived for years, he couldn’t deny that the rush of adrenaline was awesome.

It was almost like riding a wave that he knew was too large for his skill level and where the undertow was just as dangerous as the wave he rode. He’d been there many times. He’d put himself there on purpose. But here, in the dark, with dead people under his feet, there was no lifeguard to pull him out of danger. No surf buddy to watch his back and know when he went under.

A female vampire came out from behind a tree as John turned back and paused to listen. Tall and slender, her legs look like burned tree branches in tight leather pants. Her tiny breasts were pushed up as high as they would go in a black bustier. She twirled a lock of long blonde hair in her pointed finger.

“What do we have here?” she asked, blinking slowly with a sly grin on her face. “Little boy lost?”

He felt cold--icy inside, but it numbed his fear enough for him to stand there without wetting himself. With a half attempt at a shrug, he said, “Not lost, really. Just very curious about your kind. You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

Quicker than was humanly possible, she was in front of him, gripping his shoulders, her face misshapen just like Angel’s had been. John was trembling now, but he stared boldly.

“What do you think, oh little, delectable, midnight snack?”

Run. Push her away. Escape!

Angel had said that Spike had never been good at following directions. Guess that applied to commands from his own common sense. Instead of fighting her, he lifted his hand and she watched him, curious to see what he’d do, as he placed it over her chest where her heart should be.

“What’s it like? The cold and having no heartbeat. Do you feel pain?”

She pushed him away, sneering at him. “You’re not one of those vampire wannabes, are you?”

“Now who has questions?” John grinned, the fear dissipating, even though he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. “No. I have no desire to be a vampire. I’m just curious.” He tilted his head as he took in the sight of her. “Do you have a nickname? Or do they call you what you were before you were turned?”

“Who the hell cares? But you can call me Vixen, before I drain you dry.” Vixen weaved back and forth hypnotically and he was reminded of another vampire from his flashbacks. Vixen wet her lips and switched to her human face. “And will I have to wait until you’re dead in a heap to read your underwear tag or do you plan on telling me your name?”

“Sp-Spike.”

She reared back and then rolled her eyes. “Spike? You are a vampire groupie. I’m going to take great pleasure in killing you.”

“You know Spike?” he asked, a little too eagerly.

She turned her head and spit. “Never met the traitor. But he and his live-in boyfriend, Angel, were making things very difficult for the rest of us before someone with power got smart and unleashed the fury of hell on them. Spike is dead.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just like you’ll be, soon.”

“Boyfriend!”

She chuckled. “Don’t judge us. Vampires can do anything or anyone that they feel like doing.” Vixen ran a finger down her cleavage. “I can turn you if you want.”

The blood was rushing in his ears now as his heart started pounding faster. He couldn’t… “How many times do you have to bite me?” John touched his neck. “Three?”

Vixen just stared at him, her eyes wide and one brow raised high, until finally she burst out laughing. John jumped and then cringed from the high piercing sound as the vampire doubled over, unable to control herself.

“Oh, hell—” She burst into laughter again. “You…you think—” Vixen raised her hands, clawing her fingers. “I vant to bite yore neck.” And then she doubled over again. “Some kind of groupie you are. Haven’t you ever heard of the Internet? Google the word vampire and learn some real facts.” In a blur of motion, she was gripping his shoulders again, her sharp nails biting into his skin, even through his t-shirt. “Or, you can learn the hard way. Yeah. I like that better.”

Vixen morphed into her vampire face, bared her teeth and slowly lowered her head. At first John was mesmerized. This is what he’d been. A killer, feeding off the blood of his victims. He was instantly sick to his stomach and just before her razor sharp teeth touched him, he bent to the side, letting his knees give out. Self-defense moves that he knew by instinct kicked in and he was able to knock her to the ground.

Having sense enough to not engage in a battle that he knew he wouldn’t be able to win, John took off, running as fast as he could. He was so glad he worked out. Even in high-heeled boots, the vampire was starting to catch up to him. It was best not to look back, but he couldn’t help it.

The black Jetta was in his sights, parked just outside the gates, as he raced towards it. He fumbled with the keys in his pocket, telling himself not to drop them. John aimed the keyless entry as best he could and wanted to shout in relief when the headlights flicked on twice, indicating that it was now unlocked. He lost a second or two when he slammed into the car and had to back up in order to open the door. Yanking it shut behind him, he pushed the lock button, never being happier to hear the click of all the locks going at once as the snarling vampire slammed into the driver’s side door.

His hands shook so badly that he couldn’t get the key in. Vixen rammed the car again and the keys slipped through his fingers on to the floor of the car.

“Fucking hell!”

He blindly reached down until his fingers grasped the metal keys. The vampire hit the car again, but he held onto the wheel and gritted his teeth. The key slipped into place and he turned it, the car gently roaring to life. He’d just put it in drive when she hit the driver side window. It cracked, but he didn’t have time to bemoan the fact that he’d have to replace it. He stomped on the gas and peeled away, almost plowing into a huge dumpster when he couldn’t see the vampire in his rear mirrors, but turned to see her chasing after him, closer to the car than he would have liked.

---

John had been up all night. The motel he’d checked into wasn’t as nice as Gage’s guest room, but it had WiFi, clean sheets and cable TV. He’d locked himself in and started his laptop right away. Vixen’s laughter had followed him all the way to the room, and he realized just how much he didn’t know about vampires. He doubted very much that there would be a wealth of information on the Internet that didn’t come from a Dracula type book or other false legends. But, ten minutes into his search and he was fascinated by all that was out there.

On a whim, he googled William the Bloody and then spent another hour going from link to link, learning about the evil vampire that he had been. He was fascinated by the drawings of Drusilla and the legends and incredible tales that made up the existence he’d led with not only her, but with Angelus and Darla.

He couldn’t understand how all this information was out there, but the general population seemed oblivious. Vixen had laughed at him for his ignorance and now he couldn’t blame her. John had half expected her to turn into a bat and fly after the car.

But he’d fought a vampire. John grinned. One that was taller and stronger than he was and yet he’d lived to tell the tale.

Focusing on the tape he was now listening too, he pushed rewind and listened again as Dawn described what he’d looked like while he’d been in Sunnydale. Leather duster. John’s eyes strayed to the open closet where he’d hung the coat. Black jeans, black t-shirt, red silk shirt, combat boots and always slicked back, platinum blond hair.

It didn’t take him long before he was standing in front of the dingy full length mirror on the bathroom door with the coat on. His cargo shorts and white t-shirt didn’t really go with the coat. He wet his hair and slicked it back as best he could, but he wondered what it would look like, bleached. The knowledge of what he would need to achieve the look came to him out of nowhere.

Tossing the jacket on a chair, he grabbed his keys and headed for the car. He’d seen a 24-hour Wal-Mart down the street on the way to the motel. John could get what he needed there. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and wondered how he could know so much about getting the platinum look or martial arts and yet every memory of vampires had been swiped clean from his brain. He shivered as he opened the door, looking out for hungry vampires and Men in Black with little mind wiping gadgets.

---

The view from Buffy’s balcony was incredible, as always. Early morning was as overcast as usual, but the waves were forming nicely and the sand was starting to fill up with beach goers. She strained to see the surfers lined up behind the breaking waves, but it was no use. Going down there was the only way she would be able to tell.

Her coffee cup nearly slipped from her grip as she got closer to the ledge of the balcony. There, in its usual spot, was his umbrella. The cup ended up on the little table as she tore her robe off and raced through the apartment. Where was her blue bikini? Her hair! And no make-up yet.

Ten minutes later, she was riding the elevator with the surfboard that John had let her borrow under her arm and her beach bag in her hand. Buffy ran through the lobby, made her way down the steep steps, braved the traffic on the Strand and dumped her bag on John’s blanket. The cooler was there and his laptop, hidden under the blanket as usual. Her sunglasses hit the blanket next and she could barely get her shoes off before she was running towards the water.

John would be straight out from where his blanket was. She could make out four heads bobbing up and down in the water, spread out and past where the waves were forming. She dove in with her board and paddled with all her might, duck diving the white water breaks for maximum speed to get out there. She mimicked shoving the board down like John had taught her, as if she were doing a push up and followed the board under the wave, only using her knee towards the back of the board to propel herself up again when she no longer felt the turbulent water over her back.

Buffy came up and nearly breathed in a gallon of water with her gasp.

“Your hair!”

John stared past her and Dirk looked from John to Buffy and back to John. He slapped his board and said, “Well, that’s my cue to make like a cowboy and ride this next wave to shore.”

They both ignored him as he paddled by Buffy to catch the growing wave. She was getting pulled back too, so she paddled closer to John and turned to face the shore with him. Gazing at his short bleached hair she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He looked so much like Spike. A little band of tightness gripped her chest and she had trouble breathing normally.

“John, I’m—”

“Call me Spike. That’s my name, isn’t it?”

The glare of betrayal he sent her way hit her like a twelve-foot wave and she had to look away from him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was or who you were. I guess all the things Angel and Dawn told you helped you to remember everything?”

“No. I only have their word to go on and some things I’ve gleaned from the Internet,” he said in a neutral tone. Buffy could feel his eyes boring into her when he asked, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I don’t—” She gave up trying to speak and only shook her head.

With a frown on his face, he began paddling for the next building wave. It wasn’t good etiquette, but she paddled for it too.

“John, please—”

“It’s Spike!”

He wouldn’t even look at her. John stood and caught the wave, but Buffy didn’t have any strength in her legs. She stayed on her stomach and shot the wave out like a body surfer, only she had to hold on for dear life as she hadn’t been prepared for the way the board teetered.

By the time she reached the umbrella, he was folding it closed, and her bag was sitting in the sand next to where his blanket had been.

“Can you just…stop and talk to me for a minute?” Buffy pleaded with him.

He tossed the umbrella to the ground and stood with a hand on his hip. “Answer me this,” he asked, pain etched in his features. “Why did you let me fall in love with you again? Was it some kind of perverse ego trip for you?”

“No,” she said softly. “It’s not like that at all. When I thought you were dead…” She faltered, trying to get her emotions under control. “I mourned and I couldn’t function. How could I not come out here to see if you were well, when I found out what really happened to you?”

“I don’t have all my memories,” he said, as he gathered his things, “but I’ve had some flashbacks of the two of us. You were never in love with me. You hated what I was and you were disgusted by the way I felt about you.”

“That was true in the beginning, but not in the end.” Buffy let a group of young giggling girls pass before she said, “You were always there for me and in the end I told you I loved you.”

“Yeah,” John said wryly. “You threw me a bone when you knew I was going to die while saving the world. At least that’s what Vi said. That I burned up while saving the world.” He looked off into the distance. “Seems I’m responsible for a huge crater about two hours north of here.”

“You did save the world, John—Spike. And I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you. It was true then and it’s true now.”

“True enough that you could come here and lie to me every day?”

His words cut her, tore her heart open and made her feel lower than low. “I just wanted you to have a normal life. I didn’t want to burden you with the past.”

“Well, great. The secret’s out. Now you can go back to London or Ireland. I’m sure your boss the--whatsitcalled--watcher still needs you over there. And I can get back to my normal life like you never stepped foot in it.”

Spike walked away from her then, his damp blond hair gleaming in the sun that was just peeking through the clouds.