Chapter One


“Damn Dundee demons, “ Buffy shook some stringy slime off her shirtsleeve.

She was headed home, covered in a yellow, undulating slime that seemed to still be alive, even though it had already left the body of it’s former owner. She shrugged.

“Florescent yellow doesn’t suit you, love. Maybe something in a teal?”

She stopped and closed her eyes, dreading this encounter. “Why are you following me Spike?”

He stepped out from behind the tree next to her and smirked. “Needed some smokes, Slayer. Not everything has to be about you.”

She started walking again, not paying attention to him. Buffy could feel him still there, following her at her heels. She stopped again. “What, Spike?”

“Headed to my crypt, not following you.” He lit a cigarette and headed across the street. “Bitch.”

Shaking her head, Buffy turned the corner and walked home, the slapping sounds of slime hitting concrete every few feet.


Showered and changed, Buffy headed to the kitchen for a late night snack, careful not to raise her mother by making loud noises. Sticking a bag of popcorn in the microwave, she walked over and picked up the phone to call Giles, to tell him about patrol, and let him know that the crisis had been averted.

The phone rang three times and a stuttering Giles answered. “H-h-hello?”

Buffy sighed, planting her ass on a barstool. “Giles, it’s me.”

“Buffy! Did you take care of the Denedi demon?”

“Oh, yeah. Did I ever mention that you need to tell me that when something’s going to explode, you know, cause I hit it with the sword and BAM—covered in something like the guts of a yellow squash!”

“I’m sorry Buffy. But you did save the head, right?” She heard him hold his breath.

“Not unless you want me to peel it off the halter I had to throw in the trash, no.”

“Oh, dear.” Glasses were being cleaned on the other end of the line. She grabbed her popcorn out of the microwave and into a bowl, bracing herself for the lecture to come.

“Spill, Giles. What’s the what?” She started eating.

“Buffy. Where to start? Uh, I guess I should start by telling you that after you left my flat to patrol, Willow and I unearthed more information about the prophecy that involved the Denedi we didn’t know about.”

She looked down at her bowl, not liking where this was going.

“Alright, so now what? The world is gonna end?” She browsed the bowl for extra buttery pieces.

“Uh, well, I think you should come over right away. We need to tell you this in –well, rather, in person, I think.” Those glasses are probably the wrong prescription by now, she thought to herself.

“Just tell me Giles, I’m sure I can handle it.” She reached over the island for a paper towel off the roll.

He sighed, loud and long. “Well, it seems that you needed the head so we could make an antidote for your condition.”

“Condition?” She abandoned the popcorn for a minute.

“The slime, as you so succinctly put it, was a potion of sorts. You see, the uh, blood of the Denedi causes the bearer to see things for what they really are, through spells—“

She smiled, “Cool! That’s not so bad!”

“No, Buffy, the last part of the prophecy talks about ‘one girl in all the world that will bring about the end with darkness that surrounds her’.” He paused. “We don’t know much more than that.”

“Much more?”

“Well, there’s talk of a child, and another part about something being brought to life with the blood of another, and some other nonsense I have yet to understand, but that Anya says it translates into ‘love of a life-eater’.” Another long pause. “I’m thinking a vampire.”

She stopped for a minute. ”Vampire. Like Angel.”

“I’m not sure, we’ll know more in the morning, I’m sure.”

“All right, I’ll be over first thing. Thanks, Giles.” She hung up. More vamps to complicate her life?

Vampires? Damn.


The morning light came streaming in her windows, making little blind patterns on her walls and bedspread. She opened her eyes and lay there, listening to the birds in the trees, chirping away nicely. She stretched her arms, yawning. Sitting up, she reached over and grabbed the glass of water she had brought to her nightstand last night to take a sip, before she started her day. Raising it to her mouth, she saw that it had turned green, with stringy black tendrils of something nasty floating in it.

Instantly, it dropped from her hand and fell to the ground, smashing and splashing. “Damn!” She climbed to the bottom of her bed and walked quickly to the door, pausing only to gauge the mess behind her.

Bouncing unhappily downstairs, she noticed the pictures she passed were in terrible need of dusting, for they were almost covered. “Mom?” She waited and continued walking to the kitchen.

She entered and her mother turned around from the sink. “Buffy? What happened? Did something fall? I thought I heard something fall.” Buffy started backing away as she raised her hand to her mouth in horror. In her mother’s place, speaking with her voice, was some-- she turned and ran to the front door, heading for the only place where she could make sense of the whole thing.


In her shorts and baby tee shirt she had worn to bed, she knocked on his door, trembling in earnest. He answered, in sleep pants, no less.

“Buffy, “ he said, still adjusting his glasses to his face, “is something the matter?” He saw the look upon her face and basically drug her in by her elbow. :”What is the matter, Buffy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

She walked into his kitchen and grabbed the brandy off the counter, not bothering with a glass and walked to his couch.

“Buffy?” He gingerly approached her, carefully, not knowing what to expect.

She downed a couple of shots of the amber liquid, after each squinching her face in the most adorable way. Still not talking.

“I take it the Denedi blood has caused some after effects?” He waited. She looked at him pointedly, swigging some more.

“All right, then I think you need to tell me about your experiences this morning, why you are here in your pajamas, and anything else that may help me in figuring out a way to help you.” The phone rang, and Buffy drank even more down. “Just a moment, let me get that.”

“Hello? Yes, she’s here. Something happened to her last night on patrol and we’re working on it, don’t worry Joyce.” Buffy’s eyes widened in absolute terror and she shook her head profusely. “She’s in the restroom right now cleaning up,” taking Buffy ‘s cue, “yes, I am sure some clothes would be wonderful, she’ll need them sooner or later. All right see you in a moment. Good bye.”

Buffy set the bottle down on his coffee table and headed for the bathroom. “Buffy, what is wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see your mother.”

As she walked into the bathroom, he quietly heard her reply before the door shut. “That thing is not my mother.”


Chapter 2


The bathroom was filthy, things were crawling in the shadows, and Buffy was just DONE. Slinking off her top, she leaned over and turned on the faucet. The water poured out slowly, more stringy things plopping in the water as it filled. Shaking her head, she resigned her fate and pulled off her shorts and panties. Sliding into the lukewarm ‘water’, she felt an indescribable feeling of loss, like everything she had known was gone. Her cheek was cool against the porcelain. Her nipples peaked from under the water and were covered in the light slime. Grabbing the soap, she furiously rubbed it over her skin, to kill the whatever it was.

A knock sounded at the door, Giles sounded scared. “Buffy?”

She hesitated, waiting for him to go away.

“Buffy? Willow’s here and she wants to bring your clothes in for you. Will that be all right?” Buffy’s eyes got wide and she looked at the door in apprehension. No way was she having Willow come in right now, wasn’t happening.

“Set the clothes outside the door, Giles. I’ll get them in a minute.” She heard him set them down in the hall and then walk away. Lying back in the water, she stared at the ceiling, and for the first time since she got in there noticed something right above the tub. Tiny bits of what looked like paper balls, stuck to the smooth surface. She closed her eyes and plunged her head underneath the water, not really caring anymore what the hell was wrong with it. Spike’s spitballs, she thought to herself. How absolutely ironic, she being in the same place he was only a few short moths ago. Only, this time she wasn’t running from a super-secret government agency, she was running from everyone else. Everything comes full circle, she thought once again, before bringing her head above water and exhaling.

She rinsed everything off well and stood to let out the water. Reaching for her towel, she ran it over her head for few minutes and then wrapped it. Reaching even farther over, she grabbed another one off the stack and slipped and fell, cracking her rib on the side of the tub and sending her sprawling on the floor. She winced as she sat up, rubbing the affect area gingerly.

The door flew open, and she threw the towel over her head, cover some of her body as well. “Buffy?” Willow’s kind, best friend voice came through the fabric, making her want to put it down, but afraid of what she’d see.

“Hi, Will.”

“Did you fall?” A pause, “Oh, wow! I mean, wow Buffy, you have a nice bruise forming there under your ribs. Let me help you!” She reached down to pull her up and jumped back when Buffy tore her hand back.

“I’m fine Will, just needing some me time right now. Can you just go for right now?” She could imagine the look on her face, silently regretting even saying what she did, but she knew, deep down she wasn’t ready to see. And they weren’t ready for her reaction.

The door closed silently and Buffy stood, drying what was left of her off. She went to the door and listened for people, and when she was satisfied that there was no one there, she opened the door and grabbed the clothes that were there quickly. She then looked at herself in the mirror and saw something she hadn’t ever see before. She actually shone, like a candle. Her body was giving off some king of light luminescence. She reached for the brush and ran it through her hair and then grabbing on of her backup scrunchies she left here just in case, threw her hair up. She looked one more time in the mirror, steeling herself for the onslaught.

Her hand rested on the handle. Only for a moment, not sure if she was ready or she’d run, like before, but it was now or never.

The door opened and light came in.


Conversation was light and banter was casual as she headed down the hall to join what she assumed was the rest of the Scoobies. The first person she saw was Xander sitting on the edge of Giles’ desk, with his arms linked around Anya’s waist. He looked and stopped when he saw no reaction to his smile he gave her. Anya looked up in mid-sentence, and all Buffy could think of was—how lovely. She saw before her a young girl, of maybe 18 or 19, with flowing brown hair, cherry colored lips, and small lithe figure. It was then that she smiled, after noticing that if Anya looked this good, then there was no reason to fear the others. Xander just looked normal, and that was fine by her.

She turned the corner and saw Giles first. He was emanating a light red light from all the way around him, and looked even a little younger than usual. He smiled and reached for her in a hug. No words were needed, they just held each other for a few moments, which was what she needed so desperately. When she let him go, she turned and faced Willow and Tara.

Tara was right in her path, and she radiated the same light Buffy did, only hers was comforting a warm, where Buffy felt a little cold. Her smile made Buffy feel a lot better, and she actually laid her head on the taller girls chest in an informal hug. Tara stroked her hair and then whispered in her ear, “She has been so w-w-worreid about you.”

Buffy shook her head and squeezed her eyes tightly shut and then let go. Turning to Willow, she opened them slowly.

Not what she expected.

She shrieked and jumped back, walking backwards for the door. Unfortunately, Giles beat her to it and blocked her way. “Buffy, what is wrong?”

She pulled him closer and pointed at her best friend. “Her eyes! They’re black, like her hair, and she’s smirking, covered in veins.” Oh my God! What did you people do to her?” She grabbed the handle and ran to the fountain where she sat and took deep breaths, not understanding anything about she just saw.

Xander came out the door and actually scooped his friend off the concrete slab. “Buffy, what is happening?”

She looked up with tortured eyes and looked deep into his. “I don’t know Xan, I really don’t know.”


A few hours later, Buffy was lying on Giles couch, in the same position she’s gotten into when she came in. She was clutching a bottle of Evian that Xander had gone out to get her, and she had a tin of cookies on her lap, ready for her to eat whenever she felt up to it.

“So, let me get this straight,” Xander started, “Your mom was covered in black lesions all over the seeable surface of her body and it looked like part of her brain had rotted off?”

Buffy nodded, now chewing on one of the cookies.

Anya smiled, “Could have been worse! I mean, in my demon days, I cursed this one guy who had flirted with the neighboring, visiting princess in front of his wife with seeing nothing but pigs for the rest of his life!” Everyone looked at her and she of course didn’t notice. “Ah, the good old days.”

Buffy threw the cookie down to get a drink.

“Willow looked like a more Satanic version of Marilyn Mason, the water was gross, and we look like angels, with the exception of me, I have a red hue. Hmmm.” Giles took his glasses off to chew on one of the earpieces.

“Do you even know who Marilyn Manson is?” Xander smiled at the prospect.

“No, I was quoting Buffy, thank you very much. I’m sure by the description you gave me, I really don’t want to know though.” He ran a hand through is hair and looked down to Buffy. “I think we’re going to need to find another Denadi demon. That’s the only way that we can make you alright again.”

Buffy sighed. “Not going for it, Giles. Sorry about it, if I would have known, then it wouldn’t have been a problem, but not going to happen.” She leaned back, “Can’t we find another way?”

“Research it is then.” They all split up, but not before Buffy noticed something change inGiles’ eye when he talked. The had pulled back on his head, causing them to go straight, as well as his mouth. It gave him a demonic expression, and as if it knew what she saw, the face smiled at her and his color changed to a reddish blue.

“I’m patrolling.” Buffy dropped everything onto the coffee table for the second time and headed out the door, not heeding everyone’s warnings.



Chapter 3


Running away was not fun. Her high school counselor, Mr. Laughlin looked like a mouse on the inside. Mary Downing, who ran the Espresso Pump was a little like swine. The guy in the booth at the Sun Cinema looked like an adaptation of Jack from that movie where they nearly stole Christmas or something. Right now, she couldn’t remember, a headache was coming on strong.

Her head hurt more when she went into the little convenience store to buy sunglasses. Her plan was to lie in the sun until it went down somewhere where she didn’t have to see anyone or anything. So far, the plan wasn’t working.

People were bustling around all over as she walked out of the little shop, and she turned, headed toward the park. At least there, if she played her cards right and went straight home afterwards, she’d be peachy keen. A few taller elm trees lined an opening to a small wooded area, so she decided that she’d plant herself right there. A warm breeze blew over her as she lay down, and she snuggled right into a cushy spot.

No more than five minutes after she got there, she felt the light from the sun blocked. Her eyes stayed shut, but she still grimaced. “Can I help you?”

“I was just in the neighborhood, thought when I saw you lying here, thought I could saunter on over and kiss you hello.” Riley, shit.

“Riley, as much of a great surprise that this is, it really isn’t right now. I seriously have some issues that you don’t want anything to do with, I swear!” Mentally, she shoved him away.

She felt him lean down and her lips were brushed with his. “I missed you last night.”

“Me too. Don’t you have somewhere else you’d rather be right now though?” She sat up, starting to feel a little caged.

“Nah. I have no where to be but here with you.”

Double shit. “Riley, really, I would love to sit and talk to you, but you have to know something. Serious slayer stuff.”

“I was attacked by something last night and it changed me a little.” She hesitated, “I can’t look at you.”

Riley put his hand on hers. “What happened to you Buffy?”

“Everything I look at shows its true face to me. I can’t look at anything truly evil, nothing gross—don’t even want to go there. Let’s just call it good and you go to school and do, something, and I’ll come find you as soon as this blows over. I swear.”

“We can face this together, Buffy. Don’t shut me out, not if you’re afraid.”

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. “No.”

He sat there, not wanting to leave, she could tell. “It’ll be okay, Riley. I can do this, promise.”

“You don’t have to face this one without me. I mean how bad can I be?” He looked at the grass and kicked it over to her. She felt his eyes move on her. “Buffy, look at me! I need you to see that I’m okay!”

She shuddered, keeping her eyes tightly shut. “No,” she said quietly, “I can’t look Riley. That’s just how it is!” Standing up, but facing the other way, she started running, for what she didn’t know.

A hundred feet and she was nailed to the ground from behind. Rolling, she pushed her attacker to the side. Glancing the way it had gone, she saw a face full if deep scars, white and swollen, like if it had drowned. And in it, something familiar—Riley. It--no he--raised a hand to grab her and she flew to her feet and ran faster than she’d ever gone in her life, heading for the woods.




Buffy had never been more thankful for nightfall. She wandered the streets like an orphan, stake at the ready for any baddie that happened to come her way. Her feet were aching, but she had nowhere to go to relax and think. So, like a good little soldier, she walked aimlessly, through the hot Californian night.

The thing that she thought had been Riley scared her. If that was how he was on the inside, boy, was she wrong about him. What did it mean, him all corpse like and suffering from an extreme case of the bloated? She would check with Giles first thing in the morning, he’d be able to help her.

Coming around to Sunny Rest, she walked through the gates, headed toward some of the new ‘deposits’. Sitting on top of a tombstone, she took her stake out and twirled it in her hand absentmindedly. She turned quickly after a few minutes, to where she heard a noise. “Hello?”

A cigarette plumed a few feet away, coming toward her. She closed her eyes and sighed audibly. “Spike. Don’t really need your shit right now.”

She felt him a foot or so away, and readied herself to run. “Slayer. What do I owe to your visit to my home?”

“First of all, Spike, I’m not visiting your place, just resting, you know, waiting for the newbies. Second, none of your business what the hell I’m doing. Thirdly, I want you to leave me alone. Like now, so be gone please.” She turned the other way.

He chuckled. “Why’re your eyes closed, Slayer?”

“Oh, thought you’d gone Spike. Do you need me to go through my speech again? Cause I gotta tell you, I’m running real short on patience tonight!” She turned a little more, facing completely away.

“Knock the high and mighty crap off, the witches came by looking for you earlier. Wanted to let me know all about your problem. Can’t look at anyone without seeing someone how they really are, eh? Sucks to be the Chosen one right now, don’t it?”

He inhaled sharply and started to circle her, taking predatory steps. She turned with him, never letting his face come close to her eyes, because, Oh God, she really didn’t want to truly know how evil he actually was. He had come in so handy so often lately, and sometimes the extra muscle could help when it was necessary.

He grabbed her by the arm and swung her to face him.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.



Chapter 4

Buffy pulled herself free from his grasp. Her body was shaking, she felt like she was on some kind of very wrong drugs. Holding up her hand before Spike would grab her again, she put her sunglasses back atop her nose. As calmly as she could, she turned to look back at her former enemy. Opening her eyes once more, the shock was alarming, but she restrained herself, if only because he was the same strength as her and she didn’t have the energy to deal with him that way right now.

A bright, but pale yellow light came from somewhere behind him, outlining his purely masculine form. Curly light brown rings sat on top of his head, her fingers ached to reach out and through them. His face was young, younger than she’d ever seen it, and it had laugh lines in the corners of his eyes. And his eyes! Oh, they shone, like a tear would fall from their corners at any moment. His lips were a pale pink, as well as his cheeks, and there was more color for sure. And she couldn’t see for certain, but his skin was a little darker than the paleness it usually carried.

But the real surprise came from behind him, where there hung a black liquid-like curtain. The swirling, writhing mass seemed to ride him, like a ‘monkey on his back’ would. It whispered in his ear, she could tell, because it darted every once and a while toward them, and she heard a soft caress of a voice on the wind. If she reached out, she could almost touch it. His demon.

She stood there, looking at him, not listening to a word that he was saying. “And, if they think that I’m going to be babysitting the one Scooby in the whole world that would rather kick my ass than look at me, then they are completely out of their damn mind!” He paused and tilted his head, examining her, “Slayer?”

She was waving her hand behind him, running it up and down. “Buffy?”

She looked at him then, a smile playing on her lips. “Spike.”

“Have you completely gone off your bird?”

“No, but you, I mean, you’re beautiful!” She smiled fully then, circling him. The sunglasses came off as she investigated him.

“This is completely irrational, Buffy. Don’t you think that maybe you can come with me to my crypt and we’ll talk? Or you can sleep, I can get drunk, and in the morning, your merry band of meddlers can come pick you up? Whaddya say? Hmmm?” He started turning with her, becoming a little more self conscious about being stared at by the bane of his existence.

Something snapped in her face. “Okay, let’s go to your place. I really can’t go home, not to the mom the time forgot.” She reached for his hand, which he abruptly pulled back as if he was burned.

“No touching, just walking, alright, Slayer?” He headed for his home, wrapping the duster more firmly around his body.

“No touching, Spike. Sorry.”


A bag flew out from underneath his bed, smacking him in the calf. “Ow, you bint! Why can’t you just pull the bloody thing out like normal people? I swear when this is over, you’re going to owe me big!”

Her head appeared from under the queen size bed, “Spike, I need clothes, you don’t have any. I asked you if you might have some any anywhere else and you said that I could check under the bed. Sorry if I cracked you when I threw it out, but I can’t see where you are when you’re behind me!” She stood up, automatically brushing herself off. She looked down at her clothes.

She groaned.

“Go back in the caves a bit and there’s a water pipe that you can clean yourself under. It leaks a little and I use it. Here’s some shampoo and soap.” He handed them over. “Take this shirt and shorts. I’ll be making a palette on the floor meself.” Turning away, she knew she’d been dismissed, and so she headed down the path in search of her shower.

Spike took this opportunity to survey what had happened in the last hour. In the span of a few short moments of his long life, he had gone from taunting Buffy, to taking care of her while she was delicate. Hell, the thought of her naked in the caves, water pouring down her naked nymph-like body was near torture for him. To get his mind off it, he went to the bed and pulled off the comforter, and underneath it one blanket. Grabbing one of the pillows, he went to the farthest point away from the bed without going back upstairs, and straightened it up to make it suitable for him to sleep on. He got ready to lie down, taking off his boots, socks, and shirt. His hands rested on his buttons of his pants, contemplating whether or not he was going to take off the denim, wondering how pissed the Slayer would get if she found out he slept completely starkers.

While trying to make the decision, he heard her feet padding back to the bedroom, so he shrugged and decided to leave them. Lying down, he clasped his hands behind his head, staring at the dirt ceiling above.

The smell of his shampoo wafted through the air as she walked in. Shoving her other clothes into an old plastic grocery bag, she looked around for anything resembling toothpaste, so she could brush. “Spike? Where are you?”

He put his hand in the air, waving it so she could see it. “What do you need?” He sounded tired. She looked at her watch. It was eleven thirty. Rolling her eyes, she walked over to stand above him, and stared at him, her hand once again flying to her mouth in surprise. “What now, Slayer? ‘M tired and I need some sleep.”

She crouched down near him, her hand ready to run over his smooth chest. Buffy reached out, and Spike grabbed her once again. “No touching, Slayer, remember?”

From her point of view, there shouldn’t have been any reason not to touch him. You see, on his chest, there was a near blinding white light where his heart would lie under the skin. There was no pulsing, although she was sure that if he were alive, it would be. Coming out of the light, there were words streaming across his torso in all directions. She sat then, in fascination, to read them. They seemed to fade, going nowhere, and were promptly replaced by more words in their wake.

He stared at her, suddenly skittish himself, like a pony ready to bolt.

Under her breath she whispered, “My soul is wrapped, in harsh repose…” She trailed off, inspecting further lines. Her eyes were filled with tears as she met his kind, smiling face (which in all actuality were filled with a small amount of terror). “William?”


Chapter 5

A small manicured finger traced patterns on his chest, staring at something that obviously he couldn’t see. He felt tears fall down to his belly, where she sat. Her breathing was choked, and what little he could see of her face was flushed. She was crying.

His big, bad Buffy was crying for him.

She looked up at him and smiled, “William?” She asked.

He jumped up and back, startled. Grabbing for purchase on the wall behind him, he was shaking, almost too much. “Okay, now Slayer, I think its time that we go to bed. Can’t you just, I don’t know, go over there and lie down? Not look at me? Can’t we gouge your eyes out or something?”

She sniffled and wiped at her nose, still smiling. “I want to know what you are.” She sounded astonished, like she had just seen the most wonderful thing in the world and it was him.

He was scared. There was nothing on the inside that he wanted to share with her. What he was, what he is, and what he was to become was all poison to her. She didn’t need to know any of it. “No one, nothing! Sod it, Slayer, go to bed! Forget whatever it was that you saw!”

Her hand reached out, and without touching him, splayed itself once more over his heart. “I see you. You’re pure—I mean you are, not your demon, but you , you’re pure. What’s inside there? I see the words coming out, pouring out, with no where to go.” She yanked her hand back and started to back away from him. “I’ll go to bed. Don’t leave me cause you’re spooked, ‘kay?”

He nodded his agreement and inched his way to his bed and laid down, pants on. Buffy made it to the bed and blew out the candles. In a small voice she called out, “Night, Spike.”

His volley was muffled. “Slayer.”

They both didn’t sleep much.


Buffy woke to being stared out by two witches and a Watcher. No creepy things were seen. She sat up, stretching. “Hey guys, whatcha doin’ here?”

Willow smiled kindly. “We came to fix you. Are you fixed? I’m not all creepy, scary me am I?”

“No, Will. You’re just you.”

“Well, we found a Denedi demon last night and took him down while you were here. Fortunately, Spike came to the rescue and helped us get the things we needed, so we came back here and while you were sleeping, we rubbed some of the blood on your arms and legs. Presto, no more craziness.” She sat back a little when she was finished.

Buffy leaned around them to look at Spike. He was facing the wall of the cavern, his form deathly still. Claw marks covered his torso, as well as some purplish bruises. “So you rubbed me down with this stuff, now what happens? I mean, some of the things that I saw were not of the good, and they included most everyone I know, so I mean shouldn’t we try to figure that stuff out? Isn’t that important?”

Giles spoke up. “Now, Buffy, we know that the blood caused you to see things the way they actually were, so it would be safe to assume that they were prefabricated emanations that would cause the bearer to see the good as well as the bad of the person in question.” He sat there smugly.

“Okay, way too early for that. Care to explain that a little for me?”

He sighed, “What I mean to say is, apparently, you saw the inside of everyone. The things the tend to hide from everyone else. Everyone has something deep and dark that normally they wouldn’t want someone else to know, and you say the best and the worst of everyone.”

“That soooo does not explain the thing with Mom. I say we do a little more research.”

Everyone looked around. Giles raised his hand, “I’ll call Xander and Anya, get them together to help out. I suppose we’ll meet back at my flat?” They all shook their heads. “Good. See you then.” He went to the ladder to climb up.

Willow turned to Buffy and smiled. “I’m so sorry that I freaked you out. Aren’t you glad to be back to normal anyway?”

“Yeah, thanks, Will.” She turned to grab her clothes and go down the cavernous caves for a quick shower. “Meet up with you in a little bit, guys.” She called over her shoulder.

Both girls headed out. Hearing them leave Buffy turned around and placed her clothes on the bed as she walked toward Spike. She sat down, Indian-style. She stared at him, wondering what a paradox he was. In life, he must have been beautiful. In death, he fought both sides of himself. Kinda like Angel, she thought, only without that soul of his. She rested her head on her hands and sighed.

He’d always been cute. Hell, the first time she saw him, she felt horrible for thinking so. He had the most beautiful eyes, soul-searching and able to drag you down to their depths at any moment. Cheekbones, God, they were nice. She stopped her daydreaming, and almost wished for herself to be cursed with that Dundee shit again.

She must have been thinking for longer than she realized, because the next thing she saw was Spike’s eyes open and staring back into hers. “Can I help you, Slayer?”

She sat for a moment, thinking. “Did you help them because I scared you?”

He sat up a little and reached around, feeling for his smokes. “Nah, couldn’t sleep and they came to see if I was up for it. Thought it may help me rest better. How’re you feelin’?”

She didn’t answer, she just stared at him.

“Slayer.”

“Spike.”

“I said, are you feelin’ better?” He lit one of the cigarettes.

“I liked seeing you that way. You guys should have asked me.”

“I had no choice, pet. Your Scoobies made the decision for me.”

Her face pinched. “I saw you, you know. I know what’s in there.”

He sat up fully then. “What you saw, Buffy, was what the spell wanted you to see, nothing more.” He stood up and walked away from her.

“Why don’t you want me to know?” She sounded anxious.

“Nothing to know, luv. Now, if you don’t mind, I got to see about a shower and a massage. My back hurts something awful, and I know of a girl who’ll do it in exchange for some things.” He grabbed some clothes and started walking into the caves. “Go home. See your mum.”

She watched him walk away, silently swearing that this wasn’t over. Then she too, left.



Chapter 6

Days later, Buffy was sitting in Giles’ apartment at the table, which was covered by every book imaginable. They had all been pouring over every volume they had available, and were expecting a couple more today from orders they had put in. Unfortunately, they had not been very successful as of late and that was starting to bother her.

Willow and Tara sat across from her, flirting while searching. Will had found a passage a day earlier, discussing the fundamentals of ‘pulling over the curtain’. In layman’s terms, they would be able to find out what caused some of the weird things that Buffy saw under the spell. Unfortunately, Giles didn’t have all the ingredients, and they had to wait for those as well.

Xander walked in carrying a small box and laid it in the alcove window of the kitchen. “I come bearing gifts of the reading kind. How goes the search?”

Buffy slammed her book shut. “Not good. My brain hurts and I’m not even in class.”

He walked over and rubbed the top of her head. “Poor brain, wonder if it’ll ever work again?” Everyone looked at him pointedly, and he rushed, “As well. Ever work as well again.”

Buffy smiled, “It’s alright Xand, I get it. Where’s Anya?”

He cut open the top of the box and pulled the flaps apart. “She had a meeting to go to. Something about her new apartment, I know I should of asked, but then I really wanted to be here helping.” Xander started to pull out the different books, each of them very old-looking. “Then I opened this box and now I realized why she told me I’d have more fun at her boring meeting.” He groaned and brought them over to the table, setting them on top of the other ones.

The door flew open and Giles walked in carrying another box, this one much smaller. He kicked it shut with his foot and took it to the coffee table near the couch. “I have the ingredients for the spell, Buffy. Now, I have been doing more reading on this and I found out that you need to do it in private, so you can relax. I was thinking that you could do it in my room or the bathroom. Or, once you’re well versed, you can take it home and do it there. Your choice.”

Buffy thought about it for a moment. “My room. Quiet, comfortable, something familiar. Sound okay to you?” Inside, she didn’t care, she wanted to know what was wrong with her mom and if this was the thing that would tell her if she was cursed, then so be it, and she didn’t need anyone’s okay.

They all nodded their agreement and went about teaching the correct way to handle this particular spell.


He crouched outside her window watching her pour colored sand on the carpet. He’d stayed away because she freaked him out horribly, and he just wasn’t ready to face that yet. She sat down on the other side of her bed and started to concentrated she’d need to complete this spell. He knew this from the witches, who he asked earlier in the evening, about how she was handling it all.

He’d even gone so far as to leave the crypt for a few days and visit some demon friends in another part of town. In no way, shape, or form did he want her around right now. He thought she’d gotten the drift and it was okay now to come have a look-see.

Minutes later, she rose, looking at her hands and then around her room. The trance she was in wasn’t going to last long and he hoped she’d find her mum before she lost it altogether. He stood up and jumped off the roof, headed for the front door.


A knock sounded and Buffy hurried down the stairs to answer it. Both her and her mother reached it at the same time, giving Buffy reason to look her over and see what could possibly be wrong with her. Joyce opened the door to a smiling Spike, who unbeknownst to Buffy, was there for his ‘appointment’. “Spike, “ she gestured with her hand, “please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

Buffy was intently looking her mom up and down, barely registering that Spike was standing there.

“I can’t stay too long, Joyce. Have some buddies getting’ kind of jealous that I have a new friend that’ll help a bloke out when he’s down.” He shrugged off the duster, laying it on the back of the chair in the corner. His shirt came off next, ending up on top of the flowing black leather.

Buffy turned and looked at Spike, confused. “I take it this is the person who’s been helping you with your back?”

He laid down on the floor with his face down in his crossed arms. “Yep. She’s doing a right good job of it too. I figure she’d taken care of you enough times, that if I offer her my services of moving things around, you know, heavy stuff when she needed it, she wouldn’t mind.”

Joyce got on her knees and reached for some lotion. “He really is a good help. Comes when I need things done, and with you having all your slaying to do, he takes care of it for something so small and trivial.”

Buffy sat on the couch, making a small whine come out. “Where’d you go the other day, Spike? I came over to your crypt, but it was like pffft—you vanished.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Had some business to tend to. Nothing that concerned you, so I didn’t tell you. You’re not my keeper, Slayer.”

“Did he tell you he writes poetry, Mom?” She smiled smugly at him.

Joyce looked down at Spike, who, if he could have, would have blushed. “Really, William? You could read for us sometime, if you’d like. I know that since I’ve been in college, I’ve only been to one of two readings and they were when Buffy was maybe, 3? No, 4. Yes, she was 4 when I went to a reading. And even then, Hank made us leave early for a football game.”

Spike buried his face back in his arms, not answering.

“I’m sure he’d love to, Mom. Maybe he could go grab a little something after this and then we could all have a good reading?”

Joyce finished his massage, pulling herself to a standing position. “Don’t put him on the spot, Buffy. He can come over whenever he wants to read his prose.”

Buffy smiled. “I’m going upstairs. I have school tomorrow, and the gang said they’d patrol. Night.”

Joyce smiled at her daughter. “See you in the morning, Buffy.”


She pulled her top off and slid her shorts and panties down as well. She turned down her bed covers and climbed in, checking her alarm as soon as she was settled. The streetlight blinked out for a moment as she set the clock back down, and she stared at the ceiling, pondering why the trance had gone so terribly wrong.

“Slayer, why do you torment me so?”



Chapter 7

His jaw was set firm in the moonlight as he stood in front of her window. “Slayer, why do you torment me so?”

Buffy looked up and raised her head up to lean on her hand. Buffy did a very un-Buffy like thing. She laid back down on her pillow and continued to stare at the ceiling, and then she sighed. “Where have you been?”

“Been visiting friends, like a good demon should. Stayin’ away from you and yours, innit what you wanted?” He walked over to sit on the chair near her desk.

“Hmmm. Why in the world would you think I was tormenting you, Spike?” She turned on her side to look at him.

“Your mum, my poetry, which you know nothing about, might I add. Joyce has been a right nice lady to help me out, and then you bother her with your prattle.” He shrugged out of the duster obviously making himself comfortable.

“I thought she’s wanna know. That so bad?”

“Slayer, as much as I’d love to spar with you tonight, I had plans, so I-“

“I saw the person you were,” she interrupted. “I saw the man you were, you glowed! Your demon, not so scary as much as a little of the eww. But I saw inside you. And you know what? You’re not half the Big Bad you said you were, William.” Her eyes were kind as she spoke. She waited patiently for some kind of response, as when there wasn’t any, she began again.

“You are the most intricate person—yes I said person, that I know. I see things that I’m sure you have wanted people as well as vamps to see way before you met me. God, Spike! Other than Tara, you seem to be the only person who looked pure enough, and strong enough to be there.” She stopped again, rising from the bed, kneeling in front of him. “I need you. I need you more than you’ll ever know, and I need you to trust me. How can I make you see?” She laid her palm on his knee, reaching with the other to touch his cheek.

He closed his eyes, actually savoring the feel of her small, warm hand touching him.

She leaned back after a moment and sat on her legs. “I can trust you, Spike. Can you trust me?”

His eyes opened, half-lidded. “What did you see in the trance, Buffy?”

“Nothing. Everything was normal. So, that means that its nothing magical, like Giles thought, and its probably something medical. I’ll tell Mom that she needs to set up an appointment tomorrow with her doctor.” She raised an eyebrow. “What do you say? Will you be my Huck Finn?”

Spike smiled at the mistake. “That’s Huckleberry, you silly bint.” He sobered up. “Yeah.”

She raised her hand and he laced it with his own, the truce between enemies made.


The next morning at Giles’ apartment, Xander, Anya, and Tara were discussing the finer points of Star Trek. Of which, Anya knew surprisingly a lot about.

“Captain Kirk was the man, he beat Scotty in most everything. Bones was a close third to them both. But I’d say in looks, the young William Shatner was the best looking in the entire cadre.” Anya sat back, proudly assuring herself there was nothing anyone else could say in that department.

“I know, but if you were to ask me, Sulu was the man, I don’t really care what you two girls say,” he stressed girls nervously.

Anya was not one to be taken down lightly. “I know, if you can’t see it from our opinion, then I can honestly say that any orgasms that you want for the next month will be held out for your hand, and hand only.”

Xander smiled. “Shutting up now.”

Buffy walked in, wearing sweats and a tank top. “Giles here?”

Tara spoke up, “No, he went to the magic store. H-h-h-he said there were some things that he had ordered that had come there instead of here, and Willow went with him. How did your trance go?”

“It was nothing. I mean, everything was all magicky, and I gave Mom the 20 times over and decided it must not be magical. So, she’s at the doctor’s office, getting a full physical, including MRI’s and CT scans.” She turned to leave.

Xander stopped her. “Call me, if you need anything.”

She managed a small smile and walked outside, “You bet.” Then she was off to finish her run.


That night, if one were to look in her room from her window, they would see that it resembled the bathroom scene from Bull Durham. Candles were lit everywhere, casting odd shadows here and there. Once more Buffy looked at the clock and groaned when she realized he was a half hour late. She went to opening one of the volumes of original work he had dropped off last night for her to read.

A few moments later, he crawled through her window, carrying a small package. It was slim and wrapped in shiny pale kahki paper. He handed it to her, and then took off the duster to lay it on the chair. “What’s this?” Her eyebrows wrinkled, showing her confusion.

He chuckled low in his throat, “Open it. ‘S a small present.”

“Last month you were plotting my death, this one you’re buying gifts. We should have made peace a long time ago. A happy Buffy gets and gives gifts!” She grinned.

She ripped off the paper and stared at the bounty that lay before her.

It was slim, plain covered book, bound with black ribbons. Nothing adorned the covered of back, and there was nothing in the pages. She looked up at him, holding her breath. “Care to explain?” She held it out to him.

He scoffed, looking annoyed, “It’s a journal, Slayer. Supposed to have one to put down your feelings and what all. Thought you might need one.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to it. “Before you asked, it was bought, not nicked, so it’s safe for your blessed self.”

She leaned back on the headboard and turned it over in her hands, just looking. “Thank you, Spike. It means a lot.”

“Don’t get used to it, just thought of you when I went by the stationary store before coming over.” She knew damn well he was lying, but she didn’t want to press her luck. Buffy had worked too hard thus far to get him here in the first place.

She slid it in her bedside table drawer. “So, ready to help me search through this mess?” She pointed to the books that littered her bed.

“Yeah, sure.” He grabbed a few and went to the floor, where he leaned on her bed for support and started to read.


Around three in the morning they were little closer than they were when they started. Fortuanately, for Buffy that meant she wouldn’t feel very bad if she passed out. Which was exactly what she was doing, little to Spike’s amusement. So, he did what came naturally. He smacked her on the bottom with a book.

“Hey!” She said groggily. “What’d you hit me for?”

He stood up and looked at her as he slowly pulled on his duster. “You were falling asleep luv, wasn’t fair with me still doing the work.” He leaned down to move some of the books off the bed. Her legs werew hanging halfway off the side so he righted those as well, an pulled the covers up to tuck her in.

“What’re you doing, Spike?” Her eyes were struggling to stay open.

His jaw tightened as something in him was stirring, and not for the first time that night. “Getting ready to leave Slayer. Thought you might want me to get out while the getting’s good.” She kicked out slightly with her foot, nearly hitting his package. “All right then, you seem to be getting along well enough, and there’s drinking for me to do, so it seems like now would be a good time for me to leave.”

She smiled, “Stay. You can sleep on the floor, and that way you can help me in the morning when we wake up.” Her face fell, finally, and her eyes remained closed.

“No, think not, you might have a change of heart, so forget the deal and try to stake me in the morning. See you later, Slayer.” He turned to walk away.

She never answered. “Bollocks!” He swore under his breath. Reaching in her drawer, he grabbed the journal he had bought for her the night before and scrawled a little message so she wouldn’t think he just up and left her in the middle of the night without letting her know.



Spike walked into his crypt right before sunrise, the whole situation burning a hole in his gut. His black Goddess had been right. All this time, she had been right and he never even knew. The things he was feeling for the slayer wasn’t natural, really, but he felt them just the same. When those eyes focused on him, he felt like the rest of the world disappeared. That she was the only person that mattered.

He shook his head, taking another swig of the malt liquor he had in his hand. Nah, he was just paranoid. Spike held the bottle to the heavens and thanked Dru for her meddling once bloody again. Damn women!



Buffy woke to finding a orange flower on the pillow nest to her and her journal open. It read:

Slayer, Buffy,

Went home, thought you could use the rest. Hope you liked the Fairy Lanterns, was always partial to them myself. Enjoy the journal, and I’ll see you at 10 pm.

Until then,

Spike

She looked at her flower and smiled. Today was going to be the first in a string of very good days, she was sure.



Chapter 8

“So, according to the Brumfield files, we have deduced that we have no idea whether or not we’ve avoided the prophecy coming true or not, because she still ingested the serum through her skin?” Giles pinched the skin between his eyebrows, his eyes squeezed shut.

Willow turned to the page she was at previously. “Well, we haven’t stopped it, but I think we’ve slowed it down. I mean, the key principle of the whole thing means that Buffy would have to fall in love with another vampire—“

“Which I will not do!” Buffy interjected. “Been there, done that, have the scars to prove it. So, Will, does it say anything in there about the end being averted at all? I mean, can I do some lames ass dance over the grave of a big old guy and get the job done?”

Willow’s face crumpled as she skimmed a few pages. “Nope.” She shook her head sadly. “I can’t find any references to ending it.”

Xander shot up off the couch. “Stop! If there weren’t any vampires to fall in love with, then it couldn’t go through, right? So—end the problem by killing all the vamps with a blood borne holy water virus!” He grinned.

Anya tugged at his shirt hem. “Not helping, you big geek.”

He sat back down.

The group once more poured over their own books, searching. Food was brought in, trash was taken out, and bathroom breaks were given. It all was flowing smoothly until the call.

Giles answered, “Hello? Oh, yes, Joyce. She’s sitting right here. Of course, thank you.” He handed the phone to Buffy.

“Hi, Mom. The tests came back, good…. they said what?” She started shaking and a tear fell down one cheek. “Alright, no, I’ll be home in a few minutes. Love you.” She stood up and walked to the door grabbing her satchel off the coat rack.

“Buffy?” Willow asked apprehensively.

Without turning around she spoke calmly and rationally. “They found a tumor. On the side of her brain.” She turned quickly, boring holes into each and every one of them. “Find out why I saw what I saw! Apparently, my mother had a tumor that no one knew about, and who knows what’s wrong with the rest of the god damned world!” She walked out, slamming the door behind her.


Riley was sitting on the couch, waiting with Joyce when Buffy came through the front door. “Hey.”

Riley walked over to her. “You okay?”

Buffy gave him an unsure smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Where you been?” She hadn’t thought about him since the poisoning. Not at all. It was strange, but she didn’t even feel anything at all when he held her hands, stroking them in reassurance.

“Well, we had a debriefing about the debriefing we had after they closed down the Initiative. Kind of pointless, but this is the government. I was actually going to come over and tell you that I was going to visit my parents, when Joyce told me the news.” He looked down at their joined hands. “I’ll be here Buffy. For you, your mom, and everyone that needs me. I promise.”

She shook her head, going through the motions, and let go of his hands. Walking over to her mother, Buffy grabbed the afghan off the back of the comfy chair and covered him mom’s lap with it. “There. Snug as a bug in a rug.”

The smile she got from her mom was both gracious and terrified. “Thank you honey. I’m fine. I just have to go to the hospital tomorrow to have a few more tests run and then we can come home and gorge ourselves on chocolate and peanut butter.”

“I’ve got you, Mom. I’ll be here to take care of you.” But instead, she laid her head on Joyce’s lap, seeking comfort.

“I don’t know if you can slay this one, Buffy.” Came her mother’s choked reply.



Spike came on time. But what he didn’t expect was to find the Slayer sitting on her bed, writing in the journal he gave her the night before. “Hey.”

“Hello, yourself. What’s the occasion?” He gestured to the book lying in front of her.

“Mom has a tumor. I felt kinda weepy, and since I’ve cried myself out, I thought writing may take more of the edge off.” He sat down on the bed next to her.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I figure this way, I can get it all out for a while. You know? Oh! And guess who was over here when I came home? Riley! He said he’d protect us, blah, blah, blah. I can’t stand him anymore. I don’t know if it was because of what I saw or what, but I think he’s so full of shit, you know?” She closed the book and sat back. “Wanna talk?”

He stood to do his ceremonial ‘take off the duster’ and sat down next to her. She leaned into him, her head on his chest. He held his arms out, looking down at her golden colored hair, not sure where to place them. “Hold me, can you? I need major comforting right now, and you’re the closest thing I have to a best friend right now, so you get the job.” His cool arms enveloped her, tightly to reassure her.

“Am I wrong?” she whispered.

“No, I think sometimes you’re completely off your rocker and you need someone to pull you back down to where you need to be, but no, you’re not wrong.” He stopped. “Are we speaking metaphorically?”

“Either.”

“Oh, no.”

“I want to know what it was that triggered this whole doom and gloom prophesy we have going on. I hate not knowing. Especially now.”

He thought for a moment and considered this. “It’ll come out alright, you’ll see Sl—Buffy. She’s a nice lady who deserves better than the due you’re giving her.”

She leaned back farther into his chest and lifted her eyes to look into his. “Do you ever think about me when we’re not together? I mean, like when you’re alone in your crypt?”

He closed his eyes. Should he tell her, or should he make her wait? After all, his feelings may be fleeting, and she didn’t need that as well, not at this time of her life. He chose another route. “I think about you all the time, pet. I think about how strong you are, how you’ve kicked my ass more times than I can count, and about how no one seems to get the best of you, no matter how hard they try. And you know why? Because you’re Buffy.”

“Wow. A simple yes or no would have been fine there, Spike.” She looked back down. “I think about you all the time anymore. I don’t know why, and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t seem to make it work. Not right anyway. You come into my head at the crappiest times.”

He opened his eyes and clenched his jaw. “You are something of an enigma, Summers.” He laughed a little. “You’re not supposed to think about me at all. You need to find a friend that can go in the sunlight. That would be mush healthier in the brain department.”

She contemplated that. “Too bad Angel destroyed the Gem of Amara, huh?”

He sighed, “Yeah, too bad at that.”

A long silence passed. “I can’t be in love with a vampire”

An even longer silence passed. “I can’t ever love a slayer.”

“Glad to know we have common goals, with us calling a truce and all.”

“Yeah, pet, it is.” He could feel her heartbeat slow. “’M gonna head out.” He started to move, slowly, as though not to wake her.

“Hold me, Spike. At least till I’m all the way asleep. Then you can leave if you want.” She yawned.

His answer was very quiet as he settled back underneath her. “Bugger.”



Chapter 9

Smoke.

That’s what they both smelled when they woke in the morning. Buffy’s eye flew open and she saw Spike’s hand on fire. She ran for the curtain and he shot off the bed, only his legs were asleep and he fell in the process of smothering the flames. “Bloody hell! Water! Buffy, I need water!”

She ran to the bathroom and grabbed the glass and filled it. She ran to her room grimacing when she saw that she was spilling just as much as she was trying to keep in there. Dousing his hand, she grabbed the forgotten glass on her nightstand, and tossed it as well. “Sorry, “ she squeaked, “I really meant to get something else, but there just wasn’t anything, and oh hell. Are you okay?”

He turned it over and sighed. “Bit painful, but I’ll be okay. Don’t suppose you have any single malt around here?”

She looked utterly confused. “Are you afraid you’ll get an infection?”

“No, for the pain!” He ground out, the shock clearly wearing off.

“Ummm, no I think we’re all out. You could put it in cold water and that might help. Maybe I can call Mom—no wait—she’s at the hospital running more tests. I can think of something.” She went to her closet and started pulling out clothes.

“What? You think Parada is the answer to my very painful burnt hand? Thanks, but if you’ll just let me borrow a nice ratty old blanket, I can get myself home. Got some fine drink there.” He stood up, wincing as he put pressure on his hand. “Got anything you can loan me?”

She pulled the door farther open so she could change apparently. Not saying a thing.

“Slayer? ‘M going downstairs to wait, let me know you’re great plan.” He hobbled as far as the doorway when the smell of her hit him. He turned and leaned on the doorjamb, watching her drop clothes, and reach for more. It was heady, something he could definitely get used to. Inwardly, he was cursing drew to her very last not needed breath.

“Spike? You still there?”

“Umm, yeah, why?”

“Can you turn around so I can get something out of my drawers?”

He smirked to himself. “What is it?”

A beat. “Nothing, just something I need.”

He grinned full out. “Panties?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “Just turn around!”

He was enjoying this, kind of took his mind off the pain. “What if I don’t?”

He heard her sigh. “Then I will have to kick your crippled ass all the way downstairs!”

Quietly he inched for her dresser, pulling out a pink lacy thong, with a matching bra. His mouth started to physically water as he held it up in the air and contemplated her size to the size of the undergarments. Damn. “Buffy?”

“Yeah, Spike?”

“Can you model this one for me?” He walked over and handed it around the door to her.

“You are so dead, or deader. Get out of my room, before I do something we’ll both regret!” She was still shrieking as he went down the stairs, tossing “pig”, “asshole”, and other colorful metaphors that he was sure were used to describe himself. He laughed the entire way down. At least the pain was going away. Much better than whisky.


“So, this how you travel during the day?” They were walking in the sewers, like Angel used to when he lived in Sunnydale. She thought that Spike would be way too cool to follow the example of her ex, but whatever, that was his choice.

He rolled his eyes. “You know damn well that the Poofter used to travel this way. In fact, I’ll have you know that this is the way most of the demon population gets around when they don’t want to be seen. Or, maybe I shouldn’t have said that, now that I’m thinking ‘bout it.”

She laughed, “ I know, I just like messing with you. ‘Sides, I owe you one after the whole ‘picking the panties for Buffy’ this morning!”

He reached for her hand, which amazed her. They both looked at each other, quickly sobering up, smiling shyly and then looking away. They continued their walk until they reached the manhole closest to his home. Climbing up, Buffy checked the sun and saw they were in the shade, so she went for it.

When the got into his crypt, a surprise waited there for them. Riley was sitting on top of the sarcophagus that Spike used to sleep on, before he got the bed.

“Riley!” Buffy said, surprised.

“Buffy.” Riley was pissed, and not just a little.

“What are you doing here?”

“Could almost ask you the same thing, but we both know the answer to that one, don’t we?” He gestured to Spike.

She looked at him, angry and confused. “Were you checking up on me?”

He jumped off the lid and strode over to where they were standing. “No, just had a hunch, and well, I have gotta say, I really had hoped I was wrong.”

Spike lit a cigarette and sat down in the chair in front of the TV, looking at the burned hand. Buffy looked intently at Riley, nearly at the boiling point. “Nothing is going on with Spike and I. He came over to help with some research last night, and we fell asleep shortly after that! You need to find a new hobby, Riley. I do not need a boyfriend who watches every move I make.”

“But you don’t mind if they don’t have a pulse, is that right?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I will let that go, because you feel betrayed, or whatever.” She walked over to the TV and set down her bag. Riley followed, not about to give up.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. “You know, she may let that go, mate. I just can’t seem to shake it though. Sorry.” He punched him square in the face, setting off the chip and knocking Riley on his ass. Pain fell over his face like a curtain, but he took it, rolling his tongue behind his teeth and getting into his fighting stance.

Buffy grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. Spike wouldn’t even look at her; he was focused on Riley who had been lying on the ground. Now that he was up, he was headed over to take Spike out, even going as far as to pull out a stake from his waistband.

“STOP IT!” Buffy kicked it out of his hand and threw him by his arm into the door. “Riley! Get out and don’t come back. I’ve had enough! You’re ugly inside. Now, I don’t know what’s made you this way, but I am done.” She walked over and helped him to his feet, opening the door so he could leave. “Don’t come back.” She left him at the door with a wounded look on his face as it shut.

She took a deep breath and looked at Spike, was opening a bottle of bourbon with his teeth. Taking a swig, he smiled at her. “What?”

She continued to look at him.

“Feel better, then?”

She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and flopped down in the nearby chair. “God yes!”

Spike grinned and walked over to kiss the top of her head. “Good girl, Slayer.”



After dark, they headed back to Buffy’s to see what the doctor’s had to told Joyce. To their surprise however, she wasn’t there and the house was just like they’d left it. So it was decided upon that they head to the hospital.

The receptionist was a large, puffy, brunette that looked like she had seen a better day sometime before she’d been to the Hostess Discount Shop. Buffy walked up and leaned over to get her attention, which was in an éclair at the moment. “Ma’am?”

Stay-Puft, as Buffy decided to call her in her mind answered back, “Yeah?”

“I need to see if Joyce Summers is here, can you check for me?”

Begrudgingly, Stay-Puft set the éclair tenderly down on a nearby napkin and turned toward her computer. “Yeah, room 234.”

Buffy smiled at her, “Thank you, and have a good night.”

The smile faded as she turned to face Spike. “Mom didn’t even call, what’s going on?”

He guided her to the elevator gently. “’S okay, Buffy, she’s probably just had some more tests that took longer.”

She thought about that as the doors closed and turned to him. “But, if all they had to do were some tests, then why in the world would they have her in the computer and in a room. I don’t get it.”

The doors opened on the second floor and they nearly went at a nice jog to the nurse’s station ahead. “Hi, I’m Buffy Summers. I’m looking for my mother Joyce, and was told that she was on this floor in room 234. Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

The nurse looked at her mother’s chart, and then looked back at the pair. “I’ll page her doctor and have him come talk to you. Go ahead and have a seat over there in those chairs.”

Buffy smiled her thanks grabbed Spike’s hand once more. They walked to the chairs and sat down.

Spike stared straight ahead, even though it was killing him to see her like this. “Calm down, luv. Your hands are shaking.”

“No.”

“She’s alright, pet.”

“Wanna feel the sharp end of Mr. Pointy?”

“No.”

“Then just be here for me Spike. That’s all I need right now.”

He started mumbling under his breath. “Bloody bint. ‘Sharp end of a stake’ ‘eh? That’s what you get spike for trying to be nice and deescalate the problem.”

She elbowed him. “Hey!”

“Shut up, Spike. You can bitch at me after we find out what’s going on with Mom.”

He sat up straighter, feeling vindicated. “Alright then.”

A man in scrubs walked up, pulling off his surgical cap. “Are you here for Joyce Summers?”



Chapter 10

“Yes, Doctor, I’m Buffy Summers. Joyce’s daughter.” She extended a hand to him and they shook.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Isaacs. I’m in charge of your mother’s care for now. I assume she didn’t have the time to get a hold of you and let you know our plan then?” Buffy shook her head. “Well, not to be too technical, we found out she had low-grade glioma, a kind of tumor. It was small in her left hemisphere of the brain and when she came in earlier we made a decision to take it out now, before anymore damage could be done.”

“Okay,” Buffy replied, numb.

“She’ll be here for a few days, but then she can come home. Now, she won’t be able to work right away and there may be concerns for hemorrhaging. So, we’ll need to see her often and watch her for aneurisms and bleeding.” He paused. “I think she’ll do great, and we caught it way early. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

She shook her head and then reconsidered. “Yes, can I see her?”

He frowned only a little. “Not tonight, but in the morning she’ll be awake and you can stay with her after that. Call the hospital if you have any more concerns and they’ll page me, all right? Now, it was nice meeting you Buffy and I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other over the next few weeks and months, so if you’ll excuse me, I have to go finish my rounds.”

“Thank you, Dr. Isaacs. Thank you so much!” She watched him walk down the hallway and looked for the direction of her mother’s room. Spike followed, intent on grabbing her if she decided to go in.

A male nurse stopped them as they headed in. “Can I help you, miss?”

“No,” she said, “I was just wanting to look in on my mother and see that she was okay.” She looked at his nametag and smiled. “I’m sure you can understand—Ben. Oh! You’re an intern. Okay, well I just want to peek in and then we’ll leave.”

“Sure. You do that.” He smiled and walked away.

Buffy walked up to the door and looked through the glass at her mother. She looked so fragile with the tubes coming out of her, but at least she wasn’t in pain. Or so Buffy hoped.

Spike laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder and pulled her away. They walked down the hall to the elevator with his arm draped over her shoulders.



That same night, a group of four people sat in a small apartment, talking about someone they cared about. It included a Watcher, a Witch, The One Who Saw, and an ex-boyfriend. Apparently, they were a little concerned with the behavior of a certain Slayer and her ‘pet’ Vampire.



The next morning, Buffy woke up in Spike’s bedroom in her sushi pajamas. She laid there and listened to water plopping from the ceiling as it fell to the floor, the sounds of a slight breeze going through the caves, and the very unnecessary snore of a certain blonde vamp. She sat up throwing the cover and used Kleenexes off her. Grabbing a nearby box of not used Kleenexes, she threw it at him.

He turned his head and smiled at her. “I was wondering how long it was going to take you to pick up on that.”

“Can I go back to sleep now, or are you planning on running a semi through here?” She looked very annoyed.

He muttered something under his breath.

“What did you say?” She demanded.

“Nothing,” she frowned at him, he rolled his eyes. “Alright, all I said was that I knew you didn’t get enough sleep, so maybe Buffy the Bitchy Slayer should go back to bed.” He covered his head with his pillow.

She threw a convenient ax, which stuck in the wall above his head. “Hey now,” he yelled pointing, “you could have missed! What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m sleepy, go back to bed.” She lay back down, but not before she blew out the candles around her.

She was just about asleep when she felt the mattress sag beside her. Buffy looked up. Spike was laying there, arms behind his head, eyes closed. “Go back to your palette, Spike.”

He opened an eye. “My back’s hurting and I want the bed. I can keep my hands to myself. Hell, we’ve spent the last two nights together.”

“Okay. But if you take the whole blanket, you’re dust.”

He grinned. “Deal.”


Tubes and wires hooked to machines that she had no idea of what they did. A machine beeped every few minutes to the beat of her heart, she thought. Buffy sat straighter in her chair and watched the beat ebb and flow to an unknown drum that she couldn’t hear.

She grabbed her mother’s hand and stroked her long, thin, but strong fingers. The left side of her head was shaved, covered in a rolled bandage. Joyce was pale, like a ghost, her breathing was shallow, but even.

Buffy looked up at the clock on the wall. Noon. Damn. Her mom had awoken before she got there, but there was no sign of her waking again anytime soon. The doctors and nurses had been milling in and out since she got there at ten, but it was quiet, so Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath to relax and rest. She needed everything she had for when her mom woke up.

Spike had been in rare form this morning when they got out of bed.

Her eyes flew open and she felt the pressure of someone’s leg draped over hers and a large, cool hand laying on her right breast. She stretched, careful not to wake him, and turned her head to look at him.

Corded muscles rippled along his back, his small form, for a man, looking much bigger than she would have thought in this bed. His pants were riding low, showing the swell of his buttocks, and Buffy tried hard not to reach over and stroke him there. Pulling her hair back from her face, she reached over and lightly touched his errant curls, loving the feel of the soft hair, even though it was a little crusty from his gel.

And he said Angel liked his so much.

She stifled a laugh and leaned over to look at his face closer. His face was beautiful, something she missed since they had reversed the effects of the poisoning. Sure he was pale, but that was just him. Everything about his body was beautiful, right down to his pronounced nose and chin, and his little pouty mouth.

She looked up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths to calm herself. This was Spike; she did not need to get horny over Spike. She already felt her insides tightening, her temperature rising, and her nether regions getting very wet. Down, Buffy! She yelled at herself inside. Bad dog!

Buffy tried to pull away and instead was pulled closer by the very thing she was trying to escape from. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck in the spot she would have loved to nibble on. She thought then about how good he smelled. Earthy, with a mix of alcohol, tobacco, and something resembling some kind of soap, but she didn’t know what kind. Bad thoughts, Buffy! She was burning and going to hell, she was sure.

Forcefully, she shoved away and sat up. He looked at her with one eye open. “What’s wrong?” His face was smashed into his pillow, his voice muffled and raw from disuse.

Buffy pulled her blanket up to her chest to cover her, even though she was fairly covered already. “Nothin’. Just woke up and you were draped, doing the draping thing. You know.”

He chuckled. Damn him and his sexy laughs. “Slayer, did you have some very nice dream?”

Her eyes got big. “No!”

“Are you sure?” He was smirking.

She crossed her legs and narrowed her eyes at him. “No, why?’ She ground out.

He sniffed the air and rolled his tongue, raising his eyebrow.

She thought, only for a moment. “Vampires are so gross. And no, I didn’t have a nice dream. Leave me alone.”

He rolled over to his back, running his hand up and down his chest. “What were you thinking about, then?”

“Uh-h—h… chemistry!” She grabbed the nearest candle and lit it. “I gotta go take a shower and get to Mom. I’ll be back.”

She heard him laugh all the way as she went to the makeshift shower.



Buffy opened her eyes and sighed. What a good morning!

Joyce opened her eyes slowly and turned to look at Buffy. Buffy sat up and leaned over, smoothing her hair. “Feeling better, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Yeah,” she croaked, “Sorry I didn’t call.”

“It’s fine—you just get better. I’ll be here to take care of you.” She smiled tenderly.

“I love you, Buffy.” Her mother closed here eyes again, and Buffy held her hand and just sat there staring at her. It was going to be better, she thought as she relaxed.

The door opened and Giles, Willow, Xander, and Riley walked in.



Chapter 11

Buffy sighed and leaned back in her chair as Riley shut the door behind him. “Hey guys. What’s up?”

Xander, loveable, yet disillusioned Xander had to speak first. “Buffster! How’s Joyce?” He spoke quietly, careful not to disturb her mother, but she knew there was something behind those words.

“She’s fine, should be outta here in no time. Did you guys wanna visit? Cause she just woke up and you missed her. It’ll probably be awhile before she gets up again.” She stood up and stretched, then gestured to her chair. “Want to sit?”

No one moved. No one looked her in the eye either.

“Okay. I get it something’s made you guys come up here while my mom is in the hospital and try to step in to say whatever it is, but frankly, I don’t have the time right now. Did that about cover it all?” She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to stare them all down.

Willow walked over; taking her hand and getting a worried look on her face. “No, no, no. We get that you’re feeling threatened, Buffy, but that’s so not the case.” She paused and looked at the others. “We’re concerned. You and Spike---“

Buffy let go of her hand. “Can we not do this right now? Spike has been there when I couldn’t be around everyone else and I can’t understand why you guys don’t get that. You all have problems, and I support you—“

“Or threaten to kill us,” Xander interjected.

“Yeah, or threaten to kill you, when you needed it, and you act all high and mighty in Mom’s hospital room?” She paused looking at all of them pointedly. “If you want to talk about the friendship I have with Spike, it will wait until I can meet you somewhere else. Got it?”

Riley walked up and brushed the hair from in front of her eyes. “We were afraid you’d say that.” From behind his back, a tranquilizer gun appeared and shot her in the shoulder. A shooting pain ran up to her neck and she pulled it out.

“What?” She stumbled back and fell on the nightstand next to Joyce’s bed. The last thing she remembered when she passed out was Giles and Riley grabbing her from both ends, each of them quietly saying they were sorry.


Muted pastels were swirling in the air above her as she woke, making her nauseas. Her left arm was heavy, below where they shot her; she couldn’t even lift it. Not her head either, but there was some metal collar around it, strapped to wherever she was by some chain, she supposed. The bed she laid on was small, but comfortable. They are so going to die when this is all over, she thought to herself, cause if they aren’t under some spell, they’ve just pissed me off.

She heard a noise, a groan from the other side of the room. She could turn her head, and when she did she almost cried out.

There, beaten, topless, and bloody, laid Spike. He was chained with thick iron manacles at the throat, legs, wrists, and one around his belly. This face was almost unrecognizable; someone had a very good time with him. Spike was lying on a similar bed, no distinguishable features to it. They were the only four things in the room, as far as she could see. It was small, with a light, and no window. A metal door was their only way out.

He groaned again.

“Spike? Wake up!” She croaked.

He turned his head toward her voice, and his eyes were closed, fused shut with matted blood and swelling. “Buffy?” He whispered over to her, “Are you alright, love?”

She smiled and closed her eyes. He was still worried about her, even though he was the one that had clearly gotten the shit kicked out of him. “Yeah, Spike, I’m okay. Can you move?”

“Nah. They got me strung up here right proper. Bit your ex when they moved me in here, got a right good beating for that.” He giggled. “Then, ask he was kicking my ass, I swept his legs out from underneath him and he fell and cracked his noggin, which by the way, was totally worth all the pain I suffered.” He pulled his hands together to cover his chest. “Saw you lying there, though they’d killed you or something. Then I heard your heartbeat, and just knew I had to hurt ‘em.” He felt around in his pants pockets for some smokes. “You wouldn’t by any chance have some cigs, would you? Seem to have dropped mine off somewhere with my coat.”

She laughed, “No, I don’t. As soon as we get out of here, you get a whole carton though. I promise.” She moved slowly to sit up. “So, where have they put us?”

“Well, they shot me with one of those tazer guns that Captain Cardboard had when he worked with the soldier boys. Near as I can tell though, we’re not far from good old SunnyHell.” He stopped for a moment, pondering. “Ever think of changing your address, pet? I think once this is over, you could move to somewhere safe, like Chattanooga or something far away from these crazy, touched, sons a bitches.”

“Spike, not helping.”

“Sorry Slayer, just feeling your pain and all that.”

“Still not helping.”

“Did you ever think that your Scoobies would ever do something this crazy? I mean you could kick them all in a matter of mere minutes, and they do this? I’d wager Red is having a near heart attack at the prospect of you comin’ after her.” He tried opening his eyes. “Do you see any water anywhere?”

“Spike, stop. I have an idea. I’ll need your help though, can you move?” He shifted, and manually opened his eyes with his fingers, if only so he could see a little.

“I’m all yours, Slayer.”

She looked at the chains on the wall and thought for a minute. These weren’t concrete. They could break these and get out very easily. They just had to use each other’s strength to get it done. She tried to reach over and grab his chains. She could reach them. Which meant that if she needed his help, he could as well.

She pulled. “Pull with me Spike.”


So, ten minutes later, they were free from the chains. Not fully of course, they hadn’t removed them from their bodies, no key. What they hadn’t counted on when the escape was taking place was the fact that there might be some kind of enchantment on the door. That being said, they were still stuck in their prison.

Buffy was lying next to Spike on her bed, because it wasn’t bloody, when a voice came into the room. “Buffy, get away from the vampire.”

She looked up and around, then she laid back down.

“Buffy, move away from Spike, now!”

She recognized the voice. Riley. How clever of him to do this for them, she would have to thank him later.

“We are coming in, but you have to get away from the vampire, Buffy.”

She grinned. She knew exactly what she was going to do when they came.



Chapter 12


The four of them stood outside the door, each waiting to see who would grab the handle first.

They had watched the two by surveillance camera, rip out their chains from the wall, and then cuddle each other in comfort. That was the very thing they wanted to avoid, but there had been no choice. Willow could only get one room hooked back into the security system at the Initiative, and that was it. Unfortunately, their plan was falling through, and they had to get in there and separate them before it got worse.

“I’ll go,” said Riley, the ever-present hero, “I can handle them.” He reached for the handle and increased the grip on the tranquilizer gun, as it swung open.

No one was in the room.

Rile walked in checking behind the door and under the beds. Nothing. Giles walked in. “Where the bloody hell could they have gone?” He ripped the blankets and sheets off the bed, tossing them on the floor.

Xander and Willow walked in cautiously, not wanting to trust Buffy; they knew how conniving she could be. “I think they broke out,” Xander started. “I don’t know how, unless Buffy conjured up a magic key, and whisked them out of here before we got out of the control room. We are so dead.” He stared at the inside door handle, inspecting it for damage. There wasn’t any.

No one looked up.

Suddenly, they all heard feet hitting the floor with bits of drop ceiling tile, and turned around. Buffy in front, Spike in back glared at them, chests heaving, covered in fine dust. “Yep. I think you really fucked up this one, Whelp.” Spike shook his arms out, preparing for the fight.

“You can’t hurt us, Undead Wonder. Your chip’ll go off.” He looked at Willow, who was looking queasier by the second. “Can he?”

Buffy stood up a little straighter and walked to about two feet from her friends. “Doesn’t matter, Xander. I can.” She punched him in the face bringing him down, flat on his face. Pulling a roundhouse kick, she took out Riley, knocking him in his face and into the far wall, by the headboards of the beds. Giles ran up to brace her and she threw an uppercut into his stomach, sending him flying into Riley, who was just getting up. Riley lifted his head and looked at her in pain. She flipped him off and mouthed FUCK YOU.

That done, she grabbed Willow by the arm and drug her out into the hall, where she was slammed into the hard, cold wall. Sticking her hand under her ribcage to put pressure on Willow’s lungs and wrapping a chain around her neck, she snarled, “You have messed up big time, Will. You could have come to talk to me, but instead, I get betrayed by my best friends. Can you not see the bad in that?” She shook her by the shoulders, causing Willow to whimper. “If any one of you come after me, I will kill you. I will kill you and then feed you to some bottom feeder demons and never tell anyone what happened to you. Are we clear?” Willow nodded and started to cry in earnest.

In a weak, scared voice, she said, “Buffy, I’m so--.”

“Save it! This is your get out of jail free card Will, and you better use it wisely.” She turned and followed Spike through the myriad of halls out of the destroyed complex that was once the Initiative.


Riley stood next to the window to the kitchen in Giles’ apartment. In front of him was the book they had found the prophecy regarding Buffy and the ‘life eater’. The funny thing about it was, he had a nagging feeling something was different about it from this morning when they all took a look at it. It seemed fine, and for the most part, everything seemed in order; all the steps outlined and in place. He reread the first few lines once more and played with the brace on his nose.

Following the detoxification of the Chosen one, there must a failing in the relationship between her and the pet. To do this, one must capture them in their natural habitat and administer the Christenfeld antidote, in haste. The aftereffects will change their environment, but in no way may this matter, for the fornication between these two shall resemble bestiality, deemed reprehensible by God. (See page 988)

Giles came over and set the pile of various texts on the counter. Riley looked up and gave him a small smile. “Did Willow get the wards up yet?”

Grabbing his handkerchief and removing his glasses to clean them, he said, “Yes. I told her it was necessary to get them up before nightfall. We have no idea what they’re going to do, and it will help it we have them in place as soon as possible. She and Xander were going to go to his house after to wait it out there, and I agreed it was best for them both, considering the circumstances.”

Riley handed the book over to Giles and pointed out the last passage. “Are you sure this is for real? I mean ‘change their environment’? What does it all mean? And where is this friend who gave you this information; what was his name again?”

“He’s out of the country, I’m afraid, and his name is Ethan. Ethan Rayne.” He sat down at his worktable to read the information following that passage. “ ‘And the life-eater will posses all we hold dear for a moment, bringing the child with his spendings. It is the one who brings the End and with it all the evil ever known.’ Oh, I can’t read it anymore. Here.” He shoved the book back to Riley. “Let’s gather the last few ingredients for the antidote, and get moving.”

“You’re right, we don’t have much time before dawn.” He grabbed a black duffel bag that sat on the floor, and rifled through it, squaring away its ingredients.


Water sluiced down his body as he washed himself. The places on his body where the manacles were, were raw and open. The bleeding had stopped a little while before, so he thought a shower would be just the thing to fix him right up. That and a pint of blood, courtesy of Buffy. Smokes too, also thanks to Buffy. Alcohol was out of the question, also thanks to Buffy. He slammed his head on the concrete wall of the sewer and watched blood trickle from his hairline. What the hell was he doing? She smiles and he flops wherever he is into a pool of goo, ready to do whatever it is that Little Miss Slayer wants done. He wiped the water from his eyes and turned when he thought he heard a noise. A smirk came upon his lips as he leaned down and grabbed the clothes he had brought, lying a few feet away. They were casually tossed down the other way, farther into the sewer. He shook some of the water out of his hair and started back.

Show you, pet, he thought. Just you wait.


Buffy was curled up in his bed, looking at a map of the sewer systems in Sunnydale. Her hair was damp, having just only showered herself, and the t-shirt Spike had loaned her was wet everywhere. All his towels were dirty and he had no time to dry them out or wash them (as he was known to do from time to time). The highlighter she was biting on was leaking onto the sheets, she noticed. “Shit! My mouth.” She put the cap on and threw it in the small trashcan next to the bed. Grabbing her bag, she got out the compact and looked at herself. “Damn.” There was blue highlighter all over her mouth, on her tongue, and a drop or two on her chin. Great job Buffy!

She got up with a washcloth; intent on using the water they showered with to clean up. She forgot one thing. Spike was still washing up, and still very naked. She caught a glimpse of his backside and gasped as she turned to walk back. Quickly.

The bed was her closest place to go if he had heard her, so she went there and dug under the covers and feigned sleep. Why do I keep dragging myself into these situations, she thought to herself.

The light in the caves darkened with shadow and she knew he had seen her. She closed her eyes and waited.




The light the candles provided were enough for the two of them, huddled deep in their cellar; their new prison. Neither of them spoke—they were too worried about what was going to happen. Everything was wonky, no one the same. If someone made the wrong move now, someone would die, she was sure of it. Not one person could save any of them now. All they could do was wait.

They had found a spell to see what they could do to help in the fight, and were currently gathering everything they needed. It was simple; only needing a few words said, but the kicker was, that they would be put on another plane for some time, or until they could find their way back. And that wouldn’t take too long if they researched before the spell.

Empty pizza boxes lay on a makeshift table and the bed was littered with just as empty wrappers and cans. Books were everywhere; tables, chairs, floor. The only empty places where one could sit was where they were at that precise moment. They had already gone through many of the volumes, to no avail. Currently, they were at a halfway point, the next step being invoking a goddess or two for help, and they didn’t want to do that right yet. There had to be something.

Suddenly, she spoke, “O-o-ooohhh! Xander! I think I found it!”

He leaned over her shoulder to look at the text. “Where?”

She looked up smiling. “I think it’s just a matter of guiding the law of physics magically to assume that when we cross into the new realm, that we don’t belong there and it needs to send us back to where we came from. It should be relatively easy—the only thing I’m seeing as a problem is that we don’t have any crystals to focus the energy back into when we want to come back.” She frowned. “I guess that’s the important part. Blegh!”

Xander leaned down and shoved the books to the side to make a place next to her. “I think you’ll see that maybe we already have one, if this’ll work.” Out of his pocket came his car keys, on which had a lilac colored quartz, swinging to and fro.

She leaned over and hugged him. “I think that will work just fine! Okay, here’s what I need you to do. Where’s the sand?”

He leaned all the way over the hide-a-bed and grabbed it out of the sack on the floor. “Present and accounted for.”

“Okay, let’s get all that stuff off the floor there, and then lay the sand in a oval around where you and me are gonna sit. Did we get the extra candles, ‘cause I’m gonna need them to focus on when we start.”

He shrugged and got up, walking over to the bag he had just gotten the sand from. “Yeah, I think we got ‘em. Are you talking about these?” He grabbed a handful at her nod, and set them on the bed with the sand.

They then took a couple of minutes to clean up his apartment, for the room they’d need, and shoved the bed back in the couch.

Xander clapped his hands together and rubbed them quickly. “What do you need me to do now?”

Willow pointed straight ahead of herself. “Sit here and clear your mind. I think once we get all this a-goin’ you can help keep me grounded, and I may need it, cause this is a doozy! Do you understand the spell?”

He grinned cheesily. “You bet. I sit here and you get a chanting with the Latin. Whoom, bam, boom! We’re all about finding out what’s causing all this craziness with Buffy!”

“Yep, providing I don’t blow us up.” She smiled.

“You never mentioned that part.”

“I know, I just wanted to throw that in for dramatic effect.”

He let out a breath, “Okay.” He sat down facing her, and crossed his legs. Closing his eyes, he went about clearing his mind like Willow told him to.

She began to speak when all the candles were lit. “Isis, mother of the Gods, wife of Osiris; I call on thee. She who gave birth to the world, the bringer of magic, I offer to you the knowledge of the world (she put a small atlas in a bowl), the blood of the mother (some blood of a sow), and a crystal from deep within the Earth (Xander’s keychain). Let us see that which cannot; let us hear what we know is there; let us know what we need to. In your name, Isis, I beg this be done.”

She repeated this a few times, and the air around them dropped a few degrees in the process. Xander looked around, watching.

Suddenly, Willow’s head shot open and repeated a Latin phrase over and over, eyes looking heavenward. He scooted back an inch or so. She opened her mouth to talk and beetles came out, armies of them, and started scurrying all over their bodies. Xander sat as still as he could, cold sweat was now pouring down his skin in little streams.

Willow started to scream, “Take the ka, from which all life comes. Take us to the other world so we may see. Take our hearts, I say this, so mote it be!”

The world went dark around them.


Buffy curled in the blankets, doing the whole fake snore thing, silently wishing he had a sink instead of just that leak. Damn highlighters! She heard him coming into the room, his feet padding on the cold stone floor. He paused for a moment at her side of the bed to blow out some candles. She heard him walk to the other side and blow those out too.

Lifting the covers, he slid into bed next to her, keeping to his side. They lay there together without moving for what seemed like an eternity. All of the sudden the bed started to move softly, rhythmically. She bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands, she automatically clasped together, and started praying for it to be something other than what her mind was wondering to.

The covers were thrown back from his side of the bed and the movement got a little rougher. She could feel his arms moving behind her and she decided to shift, so that he would think she was waking and he would stop. Hell of a plan.

So, she moved a little and turned to lay more on her side and a little closer to the edge.

He froze.

She relaxed and started to drift off. The bed started to move slowly again. She shifted again.

He sighed, and then froze once more.

She started to snore once more, and hoped he would knock it the hell off so she could sleep, whatever he was doing. Deep down though, she wished the lights were on so she could see.

The mattress moved as he got out of bed and lit a cigarette. She stopped breathing, as she lost her bearings on where he was altogether.

“Like the ride, pet?” He whispered huskily in her ear. He was standing, no leaning down right in front of her, which meant that…. Oh hell no. She stayed still.

“Do you know what it was that I was doing over there?” He paused, knowing full well she couldn’t or wouldn’t answer him.

“I was thinking about you. See I have this feeling that you’re feeling the same things I’m feeling, and I for one, have decided not to ignore them any longer.” He giggled maniacally. “I want you, you want me. I know. I can smell it, hear it, almost taste it, you want it so damn bad, and I plan on doing something about it real soon.”

She felt him move away and go back to get into bed behind her. He leaned over and pulled her little form closer to his. When she was snuggly square up against him, he leaned into her ear once more and gave it a little lick with his tongue. “I think you know what I’m saying, don’t you Buffy?”

She shuddered. He pushed into her back with his groin, increasing the pressure slightly.

“I’m going to pull off my shirt, rip your panties from your body with my teeth, and then I’m going to eat your little cunt. You’re going to lay there, all high and mighty, maybe give me a moan. But the real touché de maitre will be when you come on my face, screaming my name. I will drink you down, and the only one who’ll know how to make you hot will be me.” He was still calm, not shaking, although that was killing him.

She made no move.

“You can have me stop, Buffy. All you have to do is say so. I will leave you alone—but you only have this once.” He waited. “Which will it be?”

Nothing was said, although he could almost hear her brain working. Her heartbeat was going like a rabbit’s and he had no idea what he was really going to do if she didn’t stop him. He never lied, he wasn’t supposed to love a Slayer; and she wasn’t supposed to love a vampire. But here they were, and circumstances made them get to here, so they might as well enjoy it. He leaned back as he waited for her to make up her mind; his own going to where it shouldn’t. His hand went down to his cock once more, pulling and stroking, rubbing behind the head with his index finger. The silky smooth skin throbbed with need, and he knew she’s better answer quick before chivalry got the best of him.



Antidote in hand, Riley and Giles made their way through the cemetery, to Spike’s crypt. It had to have taken forever to get the thing done; Riley was very well versed now in the colorful British version of the English language. He was pretty sure some of them were made up too.

As they neared the door to the crypt though, an invisible wall threw them back. “Oh Lord, “Giles started, “we’re too late.” The emotions that he went through on his face were agonizing for Riley to watch. He himself was going through something that he hadn’t known he had in him.

Pain, deceit, lies, murder; and he was sure that Giles was feeling all that and more, as they sat on neighboring tombstones, helpless to her. Alone.