Spike chewed at the leather strap in his mouth. Wouldn't do anything, he knew, but it was better than doing nothing.

Dehevret had set up camp. Tents had been brought out, and Dehevret was being catered to with every luxury this world had to offer. He even now had his own pet vampire.

"You know why you couldn't make it through the portal, right?" Dehevret said airily while smoking a thin cigarette.

Course he bloody well knew. He wasn't an idiot.

"I know, you're smart enough to figure out that that soul you acquired wasn't sufficient to get you through. Has to be your own, you see." Dehevret stubbed his cigarette out on Spike's cheek. Though Spike tried to get away, the guard at his side kept him in place. He snarled around the leather.

Dehevret stood, stretching his arms above his head. "Ugvan's men are coming to fetch you. I don't have any particular use for you, I'm afraid. And it's always worthwhile to stay on good terms with Ugvan."

Spike had guessed that was coming. He didn't know what Dehevret's ultimate plan was, though he had been reasonably sure it didn't involve him.

If he was being gifted over to Ugvan, he was probably in for an unpleasant, though short, rest of his unlife. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that Buffy would come back for him. She would know as well as he did that without his original soul, he wouldn't be able to cross over. Besides, once she was back with her family, she probably wouldn't want him around to remind her of this lousy place.

Spike wouldn't willingly choose the noble sacrifice route in this instance, but since it was being forced upon him, he might as well give in and declare himself a hero.

****

Bare. Buffy wasn't even sure what she was looking for. After teasing more information from Anya, they'd concluded that they weren't sure what form this device might take. Whatever it was, it was gone. The site where the portal opened contained nothing but twigs and gravestones.

There were vampires about, though. She could sense them. One to her left, heading east. Probably to Willy's Place. She could stage a shakedown there. See what information Willy had for her. Dehevret had recruited people from her world to help him. Odds are, some creature in the underground knew what the sitch was.

Buffy let Spike's coat swirl around her as she turned in Willy's direction. A sudden movement behind her made her draw her stake.

With speed, she had Willow shoved up against a tree with the sharp wood pressed against her chest.

"Whoa! Whoa! Friend! Friend!" Willow cried.

Xander gaped. "Kemosabe, Buff! We're here to help."

Buffy sighed and released Willow. She stepped back, eying her two friends.

"I don't need - "

"Our help, yeah, we figured you'd say that." Xander looked to Willow. They exchanged a glance as Willow rubbed her chest. The stake had torn a small hole in Willow's shirt. Ugly shirt anyway. No loss.

"But, listen, Buffy," Willow said. "We know you're still adjusting to...being back. Part of being back is having friends and accepting their help. Which is what we're doing now. Helping."

Xander nodded.

Buffy didn't like this. She wanted to shove them away and tell them to go home. Curl in on herself, find Spike, and keep everybody else at a safe arm's length.

She knew they were right, though.

Grudgingly, she put her stake up. Best to listen to the rational part of her mind this time. "Don't get in the way."

She turned her back on them, trying to ignore their presence at each elbow. The air remained heavy with silence.

"So," Xander said. "Where we going?"

"Willy's"

"Oh! To see if he's heard of this Dehevret guy?" Willow asked, a bit too brightly.

Buffy frowned her annoyance. "He staged a huge vamping mission just a few days ago, your time. That has to have drawn some attention."

"Did you ever meet this guy?" Xander asked. "How big's he? We can kill him if he comes over, right?"

"I met him once. He's not a fighter." At least, she'd never heard of him fighting. Dehevret had minions for that.

"Ah, more of a lover, then?" Xander joked.

Buffy stopped. She turned to him. "Dehevret acquires. He owns. Money, land, demons, humans. When I was granted an audience with him, he had a human slave chained at his feet and tortured her while negotiating with us. He's a demon. He doesn't love."

She left a stunned Xander and Willow behind her. Why had it seemed so important that she tell him that? Buffy didn't know. She couldn't take somebody making jokes about that place. It wasn't funny. There wasn't a bit of it that was funny.

When Willow and Xander rejoined her, they were both quiet.

Okay, so maybe she shouldn't snap at them. They were trying to be helpful. Buffy didn't know how to deal with them, though. How to accept their naive attempts at comfort. How to graciously accept their jokes about the life she'd lived for the past five years. She could joke about it. Spike could joke about it. The humor was for those who had been through it. Xander and Willow were outsiders, though. They didn't know - couldn't know. Their humor didn't come from the need to alleviate the pain.

The awkwardness was mercifully cut short as the group arrived at Willy's. Buffy swung the heavy door open, striding in without pause. For the first time since the other dimension, she was in a room full of demons. All eyes turned to her at her entrance, sunlight streaking into the grungy bar as Willow and Xander blocked the door from closing.

Buffy gave a menacing glance around the room before making a beeline for Willy, himself. A few demons jumped up to leave. She let them.

"Tell me what you know." Buffy stood across the bar and pierced Willy with a look.

"I know many things, Slayer," Willy croaked. "Gotta be more specific."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Buffy drew back and delivered a punch to his nose. A weak one.

"Buffy!" Willow cried, but neither she nor Xander made a move to stop her.

Buffy tilted her head. "You know what I'm asking about. Big ritual went down last night, another big ritual on the horizon. Thing like that wouldn't escape your notice, Willy."

Holding his nose, Willy leaned closer to the counter to give her a frantic look. "I can't talk about this, Slayer." He looked around. "There would be some very angry demons after me if I did."

"And an angry Slayer is better than an angry demon?"

"At the moment, yes. You're not gonna rip my tongue out and use it to polish my own ass."

Buffy crossed her arms. "You're right. I wouldn't do that. I don't want to go anywhere near your tongue or your ass."

Willy looked confused.

"But I will do this."

Buffy jumped the bar, landing on Willy's side. She grabbed him by the neck and threw him back into the shelves of liquor and bottled blood. The crash shattered the wary quiet of the bar, and demons began sprinting out. Willow and Xander's yells got lost in the turmoil.

Buffy knelt to grab Willy by the front of his shirt. She slammed him to the floor, face first, and put a knee to his back. She wrenched his arm back and up, grabbing onto his pointer finger and bending it.

"Losing my patience, Willy."

Her friends grabbed at her, trying to pull her off, but they didn't have the strength.

"Okay! Okay! Look up, Slayer, alright?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Buffy applied more pressure on Willy's finger.

"It means look up!"

With a frown, Buffy did.

Staring down at her was Jigal.

He tried to skitter away. He wasn't fast enough.

Putting her Slayer speed to good use, Buffy coordinated a jump on top of the bar to grab Jigal and bring him crashing down on one of the tables.

"Where is it?" she yelled.

"What in the holy cockroach is that?" Xander shouted.

Willow had her hand fisted in Xander's sleeve and was keeping a careful distance from the demon.

"Souled demon," Buffy said by way of exposition. "Works for Dehevret. Was sent over to grab up the device and send it back along to his master, right?" She applied pressure to Jigal's thorax.

Jigal wheezed. "Remember what happened last time you tried to hurt me, Slayer."

Buffy almost backed off. Almost. Instead, she repositioned herself so as to not be in the way of his stinger. She tilted her head.

"You wouldn't be able to take it back to him, yourself, since you have a soul. You'd have to give it to a vampire or other demon to take it back over. So who has it?"

"Do your friends know?" Jigal changed the subject. "Do they know what you did over there?"

She tightened her grip. He wanted her to kill him. Knock him out. Anything to prevent him from telling her the information she needed. She wouldn't fall for it. She wouldn't.

She spared a glance over to her friends. They looked curious and disgusted at the same time.

Buffy's stomach dropped.

"Shut up," she said.

"Thought you wanted me to talk?" Jigal rasped.

"About the device. Where it is." Her words were clipped as her jaw was tight with anger.

"We don't care what she did!" Willow blurted out. When Buffy looked over her shoulder, Willow was nervously shifting from one foot to the other. "It doesn't matter what he says, Buffy."

Xander nodded. "She's right, Buff. You were in a bad place. You did what you had to to survive. We get that."

Croaked laughter emerged from the bug beneath her.

"She was a coke-addicted whore," he spit. "Still is. I know she was fucking that vampire she traveled with."

Buffy brought her fist down, smashing through his exoskeleten to rip through his insides. Black ooze sprayed over her and Jigal's irritating noises stopped abruptly. His limbs fell limp.

Killed him too late, though. Buffy panted, despite the fact that she had exerted little effort.

She turned to Willow and Xander. They stared back at her with shocked expressions. Buffy's heart ached.

"He...he wasn't gonna tell us anything useful."

****

Buffy's room was as it had been five years ago. It was as if it was trapped in one of those snow globe thingies with childish settings and sprinkled nostalgia. White sheets for a time when she'd actually deserved such purity. Butterfly - butterfly - stickers adorned the wall. A bulletin board with juvenile snapshots of her younger self. A child's room.

Not anymore.

After the to-do with Jigal, Buffy came home with a mission to wipe it out. Claw away the facade and create a room more suitable to her present self.

It was past midnight, but the bed couldn't stay in the corner with the slanted ceiling. It traveled across the room, behind the door. It was awkward and inconvenient and right.

The dresser shifted next after it had been cleared of its decorations. Buffy ended up with three trash bags full of mementos, jewelry, and knick knacks. A fourth trash bag held her bedding, the frilly white linen.

Somebody - probably her mother - had knocked on the door around one in the morning, but Buffy had ignored it. Some things needed to be done.

Part of it had been to stave off the cravings. The need for a hit. Now. Right now. Her skin was crawling, and her legs almost betrayed her several times.

But the butterflies were more urgent. They had to come off. Scraped off with bare, now-ragged fingernails. She'd left ratty holes in the wallpaper.

She didn't need the coke. She didn't. She didn't. She didn't. So what if her friends knew she was a whore? Didn't matter. She could handle it. Without Spike. Without coke.

Buffy wasn't sure what time it was when Willow came. The clock had been another casualty of the night. She wasn't going to let her in at first. But then:

"Buffy, I'm not leaving this spot until you talk to me!"

Buffy saw exactly what she'd expected to see when she opened the door. Willow stood with arms folded in front of her, chin set and jaw firm. Without any hesitation, Willow walked into Buffy's room and sat down on the bare mattress.

She looked around. "I think your Feng Shui is all out of sorts."

Buffy eyed her warily. Had she come to condemn her? Tell her how horrible she was? Had she told Giles? Or worse?

"Please don't tell my mom," Buffy blurted out.

Willow's eyes widened. Her determined expression gave way to a more empathetic face. "Of course not!"

Buffy's bottom lip trembled and she wiped her nose. Her body felt very tired even as her mind was still racing. "I just don't want her to look at me like I'm..."

"Buffy, I - we - aren't gonna tell anyone."

Using all her Slayer strength, Buffy swallowed down her tears. She nodded and looked away to where the mirror had been. Of course, that had had to go. The only face she wanted to see right now didn't reflect.

"You're my best friend, Buffy."

Buffy knew Willow's eyes were boring into her, but she steadfastly kept her gaze to the wall.

"I know this was a while ago for you, but for me it was just last year. You remember our Freshman year at college? How we were all with the 'growing apart'? But then we realized that that was bad and hugged while rappelling down an elevator shaft? Well, I'm not suggesting we do that again because that harness was uncomfortable, but...please let me be there for you, Buffy."

Buffy did remember the elevator shaft and the promises of never growing apart. Friendship and love and camaraderie. She'd been starved of it for years now. For some reason, it hurt to be offered it again.

Still, she looked at her friend. Willow was younger than her now in so many ways. Yet she was always eager to be there for Buffy, whether in helping with the slaying or with life stuff. She wasn't scolding her or giving her disapproving looks.

"What do you want to know?"

Willow shrugged. "I don't want to know anything other than, you know, what you wanna tell me. Oh!" grabbed her bag and pulled out a box of Chips Ahoy. "I brought cookies. Would've made them, myself, but Tara was baking some magicky stuff in the oven, and I figured it's best not to mix cookies with magic."

Willow held up the cookies with a bright smile. She raised her eyebrows in a manner that was clearly meant to be enticing.

Cookies and a shoulder to cry on. Buffy would be a fool not to accept the offer.

Buffy relented. She sat on the bed beside Willow and grabbed the cookies.

"So," Willow said. "The whole drug thing...is that, like, still ongoing? Not to be judge-y! But just to, you know, see where you are."

Buffy bit off a piece of a cookie. She didn't know how to answer. No? Yes? Last night, if it hadn't been for her own willpower, she would've been in an alley downtown looking for the hookup. But she hadn't, so no?

She finally shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh."

"I haven't...had any for a week." A very long week. "There was an incident on the other side. I slipped."

"How do you feel?"

Like pulling her skeleton out through her pores. "Kinda tired."

"Well," Willow looked around. "You did decide to reorganize last night."

"I was tired before then."

"Okay." Willow reached over to grab a cookie. "Sorry. Guess I don't know much about...that."

Of course she didn't. Pristine Willow didn't know anything about drugs or fucking demons.

Buffy shrugged in what she hoped was an off-hand fashion. "S'okay."

"The...the prostitution thing? How did that start? I mean, I'm not being judgmental about it or anything, but just, you know, if you want to talk or..." Willow trailed off, probably realizing that any more talking would probably cause her to start digging holes.

Buffy looked up at one of the places on the wall where a butterfly sticker had been. "My powers were sealed. I couldn't fight."

"That must have been hard."

"No." Buffy shook her head. "After a while, it was easy. Fighting back was hard."

This stilted conversation was like torture. What could Willow possibly understand about what Buffy went through? Buffy didn't even want to talk about it, anyway. What was the use? Stuff happened. Things were different now. Buffy didn't feel like spilling her tragic experience to some girl who was now five years younger than her.

"I need Spike back," Buffy said abruptly.

Willow took it in stride. "You two are, like, involved?"

"Something like that." Buffy sighed. "He makes things easier. He gave me a direction and a goal and..." a punching bag and a few punches and a hard cock she could control... "I don't know what to do without him."

"About that." Willow spoke in that voice she used when she'd been putting her brain to work. Buffy's head snapped up.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Well, I mean, obviously we don't want to bust open the portal to let Deheveret in, but we do want to bring Spike over. He needs his soul, though, right?"

Buffy nodded, willing herself not to start hoping.

Willow grinned. "Not sure if you remember, but I have given a vampire his soul before."

Buffy smiled. And hoped.

****

Buffy had insisted on a Scooby meeting as soon as possible, possible being 'right now'. The sun wasn't even up when the group gathered, all except Xander who had early morning construction work to do. Anya stood at the register with a pen in hand, going through the ledgers as the rest sat around the circular table.

The quietly atmospheric lights of the Magic Box made the darkness before dawn hazy as if everything were wrapped in a gauzy shroud. For the first time since her return, Buffy felt hope settle in her stomach. The cravings for her drug had evaporated as the cravings for a far more satisfying remedy held the promise of being indulged.

"That's...rather ingenious." Giles leaned back in his chair after hearing Willow's proposal. He looked stunned and impressed at the same time, though with a hint of concern mixed in. Buffy ignored the concern.

"So you think it'll work?" Buffy asked.

Giles removed his glasses, avoiding eye contact with her. "I can't see any reason why not."

"What do we need?" Buffy was ready to gather the supplies and do the spell now. There was no point in waiting.

Willow quickly squashed that idea, though. "An orb of Thesulah. We have it on backorder right now, I think." She grimaced.

So much for expediency. Buffy refused to let the news vanquish her newly found hope, though.

"When will we get it in?" Buffy asked.

"Thursday." Anya didn't look up from her ledgers.

Buffy shook her head. By then, Dehevret's guy could already have gone back through. "That's too long."

"We also need Spike to stay near the portal. If he moves too far away, I don't think I'd be able to funnel the soul through to him. It would just," Willow wiggled her fingers. "Disappear into the ether over there."

More bad news. Buffy's hope began to crumble.

"Well, we could do a trans-dimensional relay," Tara spoke up with a sympathetic look towards Buffy.

"Good idea!" Willow pointed and smiled brightly.

"What's that?" Buffy asked. For some reason, though Giles had remained quiet, he kept his gaze on her as if considering some great puzzle. It made Buffy nervous.

"It's just like sending a message across in a bottle addressed to Spike. We'll float the message through the portal, and it'll reach Spike through whichever magically concentrated medium he happens to be near," Willow explained.

"So we have to open the portal?"

"No," Tara said. "We just have to be near it to send the message through. We can do it tonight."

"Right now." Buffy insisted. No waiting. She'd already waited too long. Who knew what was happening to Spike?

"Okay, Buffy." Tara nodded in feigned understanding. "Um...what do you want to say?"

****

At some point, an army had arrived. Spike couldn't recall when that had happened. However, a glance out of the supply tent showed a legion of demon soldiers.

It was an invasion force.

Whatever Dehevret had been trying to get from the other side had to break the portal open and let Dehevret cross over to his world with his men and take it.

Spike found himself almost excited about the prospect of possibly seeing Buffy again. Though that nascent excitement never reached any substantial level. He knew Buffy was probably back in with her friends, having completely forgotten about him. He always knew that when she finally had the chance to mix in with her own kind, she wouldn't want to have anything to do with a demon. Any demon.

Who could blame her?

Though he was bitter, he couldn't bring himself to cheer Dehevret on in his plan of total destruction. Buffy didn't know what was coming. She'd be taken by surprise. Her and her friends, vulnerable to raging demon hordes that they were completely unaware of.

Right, it called for more heroics from him, then. Not only would he get the bint home, he'd stop this invasion from happening. Probably go unrecognized and unrewarded for his efforts, as was the norm. At least he'd go out knowing she'd made it and was safe from this world. From the demons.

Fuck, when had he started caring?

"I heard there was a vampire here."

Spike turned to find a familiar woman entering the tent. Last time he'd seen Avery, she'd helped them translate the ritual to get home after unsealing Buffy's powers. That, and she'd been a newly freed human. Now she sported a thick metal chain around her neck, and she carried a pitcher of water. Without expression, she set the pitcher down on a table. She then turned to shift through the crates of supplies, fetching soldiers' rations and plopping them into a wicker basket.

"Joining up with Dehevret?" Spike asked.

Avery snorted, and Spike noted that her eyes were red with fatigue. "Your girl make it home?"

"Yeah," Spike confirmed.

"But you didn't."

"No."

Avery replaced the lid on one crate to move to the next. She avoided his eyes.

"You know that was gonna happen?" Spike asked.

Avery shrugged. "Thought it might. Wasn't sure, though."

"Aren't you a peach?"

Thin blankets began to fall into the basket. Avery kept her back to him.

Maybe Buffy had had the right of it in punching the bitch.

A pulse went through the tent, and Avery lurched. The blanket fell from her hands, and she grabbed her forehead. Her eyes squeezed shut.

"Shit!" she said tightly.

Spike jumped in his restraints. Bloody lot of help he was. "What's wrong?"

"Spike," she said. Her body hunched over and her eyes remained closed. "Stay near the portal. Don't let them move you..."

He frowned. "What?"

"Buffy's bringing you home."

"What?" he asked.

Avery was recovering. She straightened up, with a hand on the crate in front of her. Her breathing was hard, and she pulled at the metal collar at her throat.

"Avery."

She didn't answer. Instead, she went to the water and poured herself a cup before sitting down unsteadily. She acted as if he weren't in the room.

"Come on, Avery. What the bloody fuck was that?" Spike growled, getting impatient.

Finishing a gulp, Avery jerked her head around to face him. "I'd say it's your girl using me to transfer a message along. You're welcome, by the way. Don't exactly enjoy having my body hijacked like that, but hey, you guys do what you need to, right?"

So it was Buffy. Buffy was trying to get him home. Spike let his gaze fall to the floor as the awe settled through him.

"Buffy," he whispered as he closed his eyes.

"You know, I wouldn't even fucking be here if it weren't for you two idiots!" Spike opened his eyes to see Avery launch to her feet in anger. "Wyver getting killed? Your fault. Dehevret coming along and snapping me up? Your fault. This damn thing - " Avery pulled at the collar around her neck. " - your fucking fault! You two are a curse. How many others have you fucked over to get back to your fucking paradise?" Avery threw the empty cup at him.

"I need to talk to Dehevret." He ignored her rage.

"Didn't you hear a word I just said?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not my problem, pet."

Avery's eyes narrowed and a steely calm fell over her. "I'd say it's damn well your problem. I know you like to pawn your problems onto others, but - "

"Listen, luv, you killed your master! We didn't tell you to do that. You're the one that took Dehevret's deal. Blame your fucking self."

"I wouldn't have been offered that deal if Dehevret weren't so dead-set on that slut getting home!"

"You shut your fucking mouth about Buffy!" Spike snapped.

Avery complied, though anger rolled off her in waves. It was only the urgency of Buffy's message that forced Spike to ignore his glow screaming at him. With measured words, Spike spoke in a softer voice.

"We all make our choices, pet. You made a fucking awful choice. Can't foist it off on us. Now, I need to talk to Dehevret."

Avery looked to bite back another tirade. Instead, she straightened her back and met his eyes. "Right, we all make our choices. Just like your Buffy made the choice to become a coke-addicted whore." She turned. "Good luck talking to Dehevret."

She moved to walk away from him and out of the tent.

"Help me," he said quickly. "You're mobile and I'm not." Spike tugged at his restraints. "Go to him and tell him I want to make a deal."

Avery stopped and turned slightly to glare at him. "Cause me and Dehevret, we have such a good rapport."

"Please."

"Why? Why the hell should I do one more thing for you?"

Good question, that. Spike knew appeals to goodwill toward him or Buffy would go nowhere. Avery didn't care. Had no reason to care.

And what did he have to offer her? She'd had enough of demons. Had enough of being owned. What did she want? Freedom? Chit probably wouldn't know what to do with it. Still, he could offer. If Buffy was bringing him home, then what's to stop him bringing Avery along with? Bring her along to Sunnydale and let her loose on arrival.

Spike looked up at her, about to propose the arrangement, when he noticed her eyes. Dead eyes staring through him to the unmatched soul residing in his heart. She didn't care anymore. Hope had left the station years ago, and no amount of promises would guarantee happiness for her. Avery was too weary for freedom.

He spoke softly. "I'll do it for you." Avery's eyebrows raised in question. Spike clarified. "What you want."

She stilled. The fight left her and her shoulders sagged. Her expression remained frozen, though this time it was in an effort to mask her reaction from him rather than because of genuine apathy.

"Can't do it yourself, can you?" Spike nodded at the metal collar.

Avery nodded. "It has a spell. Prevents me from..."

"I'll do it. When I leave for the other side."

After a moment's pause, Avery nodded. "Fine."

****

The worst part about being held captive by a sadistic megalomaniac was the waiting. Spike had quickly run out of ways to entertain himself. Wallowing in his own thoughts was never an appealing prospect. He'd never been one for introspection. And the message from Buffy had only spurred him to act. Sitting in one spot, stationary, felt wrong.

He'd been half-convinced that Avery wasn't going to follow through on her promise. Would be like her. Maybe she was going to rat him out instead. Loyalty wasn't one of her strengths.

However, a couple of muscles came in eventually and, without a word of explanation, began to drag him to another tent.

He was thrown in through the flap. Without any hint of grace, Spike flopped onto his knees, head bouncing against the hard dirt. A familiar chuckle bounced around the canvas walls as Spike looked up.

"Shoulda told me you wanted that soul for a portal, laddo! Coulda told you it was useless!" Ugvan treated him to a broad, toothy grin.

Spike growled. Ugvan was here? Why? Spike surely wasn't important enough to require the presence of the great mage, himself. He had lackeys for that.

Dehevret was, for once, without his usual assortment of slaves beside him. Instead, he reclined in an elaborate, non-travel-friendly chair. He looked at Spike with intense annoyance. "I've been told you have an urgent message for me, vampire. It better be good. I'm in the middle of trading you in for a lot of money."

Right. The plan. Spike had to get into character.

He raised himself up as much as he could from his kneeling position, attempting to project an air of rebellious indignation. "Got a better proposition for you, mate. Fork out some cash to pay off my loan to Uggo, here, and you'll get some strategic advantage in your fight against the Slayer."

He might as well have told Dehevret he had a set of sparkly yoyos to sell to him. The demon was not impressed. "My what?"

"You're planning on invading that world, right? Well, I can tell you that Buffy, that tiny slip of a girl, is on the other side making preparations for you. You want to conquer? You're gonna have to get past her."

Dehevret's face was a mask. Spike couldn't get a gauge on whether he was making any headway on convincing him or not. Guy should play poker.

"And you're, what, willing to help?" Dehevret asked.

Spike scoffed. He'd been preparing for this since Avery had left him. "Damn right, I am. I found the bitch, got her on the straight and narrow, did all the work, then she prances through the portal and I'm left here? Fuck that. I had one goal starting out: get back to my bloody world. Whether I do it with her or you, I don't care."

Dehevret finally looked interested. "So what, exactly, are you offering, vampire?"

"Look, I know the slut, alright? Not just on this side. I knew her over there, too, back when she was the Slayer. I fought her, fought with her. I know how she thinks. You don't. And, no offense, but there's no fucking way a demon like you from this side is gonna be able to understand what a chit from over there's thinking. 'Specially a Slayer."

Dehevret looked thoughtful. He turned toward Ugvan. "What do you think?"

"Hey, if I get what he owes me, with interest, then I'm set." He put his hands up. "I'm not getting involved with this 'other world' business. You know that's not my gig."

Dehevret turned back to Spike. "Very well."

Spike had to fight the wave of disgust that coursed through him. Deal with the Devil, signed and sealed.

tbc...