The living room was cleared as the two witches began the preparation for their spell. Spike helped them move furniture out of the way and then went over to Giles. "So when were you goin' to tell me about this Katra spell?" he demanded. "I was worried sick about Buffy you know, thinkin' some nasty had taken up residence."

"We weren't sure that was what happened, Spike," the Watcher informed him stiffly. "And the last thing I needed was for you to tear out of here running off to LA. You almost did as is was, remember?"

Buffy looked at Spike and asked, "You were going to come to LA? Why?"

Spike looked uncomfortable for a minute and then said, "We found out that was where those Watcher bastards had taken Faith. I wanted to find her so I could beat some answers out of her."

Buffy looked confused for a moment. "You knew where I, or rather Faith, was being held?" she asked her Watcher hesitantly.

Giles glared at Spike. "No, we did not. Spike was apparently going to look under every rock in Los Angeles in an attempt to track Faith down."

Buffy smiled tenderly at Spike and brushed a kiss across his lips. "You know, honey," she teased, "we've talked about this lack of patience thing."

Spike pulled her close to him and nuzzling at her neck murmured for her ears only, "Oh, I think you've benefited from my patience a time or two, Slayer." Buffy blushed profusely, and Giles turned away not wanting to know what the vampire had just whispered in the Slayer's ear.

***

Angel felt a rumbling emanate from his chest. How could Buffy be involved with Spike? He knew Spike, much better than Buffy ever could. He knew exactly what the vampire was capable of. Hell, he'd been the one to teach him. Did she really think that just because he claimed to love her that he would refrain from the mayhem that was his trademark? Angel had given Buffy up, left town just so she could have a chance at a normal life and what had she done? Fallen into bed with Spike just months after he had left. Angel hadn't given Buffy up just so she could get together with another vampire, especially not Spike. Spike, who reveled in chaos, was unpredictable, impulsive, vicious, and deadly. Spike, the one he had never been able to control.

As he watched Spike and Buffy together, he had to dig deep down into his reserve of self-control. Every kiss, every caress was a stake to his heart.

He remembered the pleasure he had taken when he had fondled Drusilla in front of a paralyzed Spike.
That was what this was all about. Payback for taking Dru from him. Well, Dru had never really been Spike's. He had just been a means to keep Drusilla busy when Angelus didn't feel like playing with her. She had always been Angelus' property. And Buffy belonged to Angel. He may have given her up, left town, but he had known that she would take him back with open arms had it been possible for them to be together without the threat of unleashing Angelus. And now Spike was fondling Buffy in front of him, receiving her caresses, shoving it in his face that he could give Buffy physical pleasure when Angel could not.

Buffy was being a fool. Spike was going to turn on her sooner or later. Pay her back for all the humiliation she had laid at Spike's door. All the times she had defeated him. It was her fault that Spike had ended up in the wheelchair, paralyzed and helpless while Angelus fucked Drusilla right in front of him. Spike's hatred for Buffy would be strong. His need for revenge great. Angel understood this. Angel had lived it. And apparently the boy had learned patience sometime in the last century. He had never known Spike to put off the kill for so long.

Didn't Buffy understand the danger she was in, the danger she was putting her friends and mother in? Didn't she remember what had happened when Angelus had been released? Didn't she realize that without a soul, Spike wasn't really capable of love?

No, Spike was playing some kind of game, luring her into a false sense of security; then when she was most vulnerable, he would strike. Angel knew what Spike was doing. It was just a refinement on one of
Angelus' favorite forms of entertainment.

Spike was evil, a demon, just as Angelus was. And Angel knew very well just how incapable a soulless vampire was of actually feeling love, or kindness, or even friendship. So Spike was acting the lover, the friend. He was pretending that he could be good, do good. For a while, maybe. For a while he would play at being a good boy, until he got bored, until he couldn't wait any longer to strike. And when he did, there would be pain and blood and death.

Spike needed to be destroyed before that happened.

***

Xander watched his best friend and her girlfriend as they started the conjuration spell. From what he gathered from Giles' explanation, they hoped to be able to make another one of the doohickeys that switched Buffy and Faith. And frankly, that couldn't happen soon enough. Seeing Faith cuddled up against Spike, talking like Buffy, acting just like Buffy, was giving him a serious wiggins. Not to mention the whole uncomfortable aspect of having known that body in a, well, biblical sense. And then there was the whole Cordelia/Willow vibe. They had never been good friends, but after the Spring Fling, Cordelia looked daggers at Willow every time she saw her and Willow had gone all guilt-tripy.
And he didn't even want to think about the Angel/Buffy/Spike triangle. Angel looked as if he was going to go all Angelus any second now. Xander seriously didn't want to be around when that happened. No way, no how.

As far as he was concerned, the sooner that Buffy got back in her own body and Faith was removed from the picture, the happier the Xanman would be. Then maybe they could concentrate the Willow's vampire look-alike. He shuddered at the memory of seeing his oldest friend in full vamp face drinking from her victim.

Grabbing another jelly doughnut from the box, he leaned back in his chair and wished that he were home in his miserable basement sleeping the sleep of the blissfully ignorant. Sometimes he really envied the average citizen of Sunnydale.

***

Joyce felt overwhelmed. Since finding out that Buffy was a Vampire Slayer she had learned to accept many things that she had always believed existed only in fiction: demons and vampires, witches and superheroes. And she'd done pretty well, she thought. But now she had to adjust to the fact that her daughter was in a different body, the body of a girl who had committed cold-blooded murder. If they didn't find a way to reverse the spell, there was the possibility that Buffy would end up in prison for Faith's crimes.

Joyce remembered when Buffy had been just a sweet, ordinary little girl. Taking another sip of the tea that Giles had provided her, Joyce found herself almost wishing she were once again ignorant of her daughter's calling. Things had been so much easier then.

***

The two vampires were aware of the coming dawn by the time Willow and Tara were ready to start the conjuration spell. Sitting in the center of a circle made of sand with pure beeswax candles providing the only illumination, the two young women clasped hands and started the incantation. Everyone stayed perfectly still as the spell was cast, and Spike felt as if the hairs on the back of his neck were standing straight up. As the chanting droned on, he had to keep a tight reign on his usual nervous energy. He would do nothing that might impede the girls from getting the device that would transfer Buffy's spirit back into her own body.

Willow and Tara felt as if every nerve in their bodies was electrified. Though not in pain, they were uncomfortable, jumpy and finding it hard to maintain the concentration necessary to cast the spell. When they at last chanted the last verse, they opened their eyes to find...nothing.

"There's nothing here," Willow cried in distress. "Giles, there nothing here. Shouldn't there be something here? Did we do the spell wrong?"

Giles had been paying close attention to the chanting, as had Wesley. "No, no, you did the spell correctly, Willow. I don't understand why it didn't work."

"Well you better bloody well find out why it didn't work, Watcher," Spike's tense voice cut through. "We need that thing."

"You are not telling me anything I don't know, Spike," Giles snapped, "and unless you have something of use to add, please just shut up!"

Spike stiffened under the Watcher's rebuke and started to step forward, but halted by the soft touch of a hand on his arm. Looking over, he saw Buffy give him a small shake of her head. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply to control his anger, he nodded in acquiescence. Opening his eyes again, he happened to catch a sympathetic look on Xander's face. The boy had felt the sharp edge of Giles' tongue more than once himself. He knew what it felt like.

"I don't mean to insult," Wesley was saying diffidently, aware of the tension in the room, "but perhaps the two of you aren't powerful enough for a spell of this magnitude."

Willow felt insulted and was about to make a sharp rejoinder when Tara said nervously, "I think that may be the p-problem. Willow is very powerful, but I-I think that we just aren't s-strong enough."

"Perhaps adding a third to the circle?" Wesley suggested.

As glances were exchanged around the room, Willow cried out, "Oh! Anya!"

"Anya?" Giles asked.

"Yeah. We did that spell yesterday, and, okay, it didn't work, but she seems to know what she's doing so if we ask her to help, maybe our spell will work."

"Anya did a spell?" Buffy asked. "What for?"

"Something about a lost necklace," Giles answered. Looking thoughtful he nodded in agreement. "Yes, that's a very good idea, Willow. We need to ask Anya if she knows anything about that vampire double of yours anyway, so..."

"Vampire double?" Buffy asked surprised. "What vampire double?"

Willow and Xander began filling Buffy and the others in on that part of last evening's entertainment while Giles went to the telephone to place a call to his shop assistant. He felt rather embarrassed that he had completely forgotten the oddity of Willow's vampire doppelganger. They really must concentrate on that just as soon as Buffy was back in her own body.

***

Anya wasn't happy about getting a call at five a.m. Snatching up the receiver she snapped, "If this is a wrong number, you'd better like oozing pustules because..."

"Anya," Giles cut in, "I'm so sorry to wake you this early. This is Rupert Giles."

"Oh, Mr. Giles," Anya was immediately the polite, enthusiastic employee. "It's quite all right for you to telephone me even though it is not yet the time I usually awaken. Is there something that I can do for you that will add to my income?"

"Uh, actually, Anya, I was calling to ask a favor from you."

"A favor?" Anya's voice was less enthusiastic now.

"Yes. Willow told me that you and she worked a spell last evening..." Before he could continue, Anya interrupted, "Yes. I'm sorry I used your premises without your express permission; however, I do have receipts for every item I used during the casting of that spell. If you want..."

"Anya," Giles cut in again, "we can discuss your spell later. In fact, there is something important that I need to ask you about it. But right now, I need your help in casting a different spell. Could you come to my apartment right away?"

"Now?" Anya asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Anya," Giles said patiently. "I do believe that is what 'right way' means."

Anya was silent for a few seconds and then said, "This isn't inappropriate employer-employee sexual harassment, is it?"

"Absolutely not!" Giles snapped offended.

"Oh, very well then," Anya replied unfazed by Giles' affront. "I'll be there as soon as I can." With that she hung up the telephone. Giles looked up to see nine pairs of eyes staring at him curiously. "She'll be here a soon as she can," he told them with as much dignity as he could manage.