“There’s always the containment spell,” Willow suggested with an uncertain shrug of her shoulders. She and Buffy were sitting at a table at the Espresso Pump, discussing potential options.

At this point, Willow was the only one of her friends that Buffy knew would keep a fairly open mind about the situation, so she had wanted to take some time to talk to her without anyone else – namely Xander – around to turn the conversation into a shouting match.

Now, Buffy was very glad that she had decided to talk to Willow. “See, that’s why you’re the brains and I’m just the muscle,” she replied with an eager smile. “Why didn’t I even think of that?”

“We could keep her in the basement, with Darian,” Willow continued, nodding, as she thought the idea out further. “I could just make the spell a little more specific, make it keep her in the basement, not just the house. And then if no one but you goes down there, nobody’s in danger. I mean, you’re the Slayer. You could easily handle one little vamp who’s never fed on a human before.”

“Two little vamps who’ve never fed on a human before,” Buffy reminded Willow, before frowning to herself and adding, “And that was a totally pointless correction, wasn’t it? Same difference. No problem for me.”

Willow nodded apologetically. “Yep. Zero threat. Totally safe, harmless solution.” She looked very pleased with herself.

“Ok,” Buffy decided. “So we’ve got a way to handle it. Whenever Spike comes up with some actual information for me.”

“Speaking of Spike…” Willow began innocently.

“Let’s not,” Buffy interrupted her, her tone short. “Speak of Spike. Nothing to speak of.”

“Ok,” Willow shrugged, not wanting to start another confrontation with Buffy. As the two of them got up to leave, she added in a carefully expressionless tone, “But if there *was* something…to speak of…you could, Buffy. It’d be okay.”

Buffy looked up at her sharply, trying to gauge her expression. Her face was open and accepting, and suddenly Buffy felt better just knowing that Willow would not have thought her disgusting or bad if she *had* had feelings for the blonde vampire…the incredibly hot, perfectly built….*evil*, *soulless* vampire! she reminded herself hastily. But she did not have feelings; there were no feelings, she insisted.

*He could have new information for me,* she pointed out to herself suddenly. *I’ll stop by his room again today.*


Spike strode quickly down the hallway toward his suite. He was just leaving his afternoon training session with his children, and had exactly ten minutes to be back in his room in order to avoid punishment.

The door was always left open while he was in a training session. A guard came by every day, exactly ten minutes after his session ended, to be sure that he was in his suite. If he was there, the guard would simply lock the door, confining him to the suite.

If he was not, the guard would immediately notify the general and the chip would be manually set off, and not stop firing until she found him…possibly not even then, depending on her opinion of his explanation.

He always made it back on time.

His walk took him past the general’s office, and he hazarded a glance in the open door. That was odd, he thought. The door was almost never open, and especially not with no one inside. A moment later he stopped short, something else registering with him. He glanced around the hallway; it was deserted. Slipping back to the doorway to the office, he saw that his eyes had not deceived him; Cordova had left her laptop computer on her desk.

This was very unusual. Spike had long since guessed that that laptop must contain information on her little personal pet project, by the way that she absolutely never left it out of her sight. It was always either within her view or locked away somewhere – never just out in the open, unattended like this.

The beginning of an idea pushed its way into his mind. It would be risky, but the thin computer could hold the information he needed to save Diana. Banishing all second thoughts, he quickly entered the office. Opening the supply cabinet, he hurriedly found the item he was looking for – a small box of blank discs. Grabbing a handful with one hand and the laptop with the other, he moved back to the doorway and glanced around the corner. The hall was still deserted. Quickly he slipped back out into the hallway and hurried to his room, holding his contraband under his arm so that they were almost completely concealed, at least to anyone’s casual glance.

When he reached his room he let out a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He took his stolen items to his bedroom and hid them, shutting the bedroom door as he went back into the living room to wait for the guard. As soon as he had come by, and the door to his suite had been securely locked, he had gone back into his bedroom to retrieve the laptop.

Scanning through the general’s files, he found nothing immediately, obviously useful, but he did find many files that had been encrypted to prevent their being read by anyone without the password – namely, anyone but General Cordova. He inserted the first of the blank discs into the computer and began saving all the encrypted files to discs. Once his task was complete, he hid the items in his room again and waited anxiously, hoping against hope that the Slayer would come by today, so he could give her the discs and laptop and have them out of his hands.

The Slayer.

There was another bloody unsettling topic for his thoughts, he remembered. He had still not gotten over his shock at her behavior the last time he had seen her. At first he had thought he was imagining it, wishful thinking or something. There was no way in the world that the Slayer was attracted to him – never mind the obvious desire in her eyes as she had all but ogled his shirtless self, and then promptly refused to look at him at all for the rest of the visit. But he had evidence that a human man would not have, courtesy of his enhanced vampire senses, specifically smell.

The Slayer had definitely been aroused. By *him*.

The idea was mind-boggling, and he had quite honestly been too stunned to do anything about it, even if he had any idea what he *wanted* to do about it. But since then, he had done a lot of thinking about it, and decided that this little development could be used to his advantage – in more ways than one. He smiled to himself as he thought of the various ways he could play their next encounter.

This was going to be fun.


Buffy entered the room a few minutes later, dismayed to find that Spike was once again standing in his kitchen in nothing but a pair of ridiculously tight Levis and his black boots, his back turned to her. Strategically, he did not spare her so much as a glance.

“You know for someone with no natural body heat, you certainly spend a lot of time half-naked,” she grumbled, coming to sit at the kitchen counter, resting her elbows on it, and her chin in her hand.

He turned to give her a deep, smoldering look which slowly transformed into a seductive smile. “I make my own heat,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Buffy was stunned speechless. Was he *coming on to her*? The nerve of that undead, evil fiend! Surely he didn’t think that she would respond, just because he used his low, sexy voice, and walked around half-dressed, showing off his…beautifully buff…sexy…

*Stop putting ‘Spike’ and ‘sexy’ in sentences together and just find out if he has any information,* she ordered herself. But before she could enforce it, he was coming around the counter toward her in that stalking, predatory way that was so distinctly his, and her mouth was too dry to function.

Which was more than she could say for the rest of her.

“I have something to give you, Slayer,” he went on, standing only a couple of feet from her and never breaking eye contact, a slightly smug smile coming over his face.

“Wha…” Buffy could barely form the word. *What is he so smug about?* she wondered with desperate irritation.

Then he continued, “It’s in my bedroom. Would you like to come and get it?”

Fighting for control, Buffy swallowed hard. “I think you can handle it yourself,” she replied with a smug smile of her own. He wasn’t the only one who could come up with a witty double entendre, damn it!

His slight smirked widened a bit at that. *So the Slayer wants to play,* he thought, his excitement building at the thought. *I hope she doesn’t want to win, ‘cause she’ll be bloody disappointed.*

He leaned just a bit closer to her, his eyes still holding hers firm with his intense gaze, his lips parting just slightly as he edged closer to her. He laughed inwardly as she moved in closer to him, unthinking, her own lips moist and parted in anticipation.

At the last possible second he leaned away, saying in a much lighter tone, “Right, then. Be right back, Slayer.” And turned toward his bedroom, leaving her stunned, and desperately frustrated.

He returned a few moments later with the discs and laptop, all business now. Holding up the discs he said, “These may have info on Whore-dova’s little plan. Can’t rightly tell, they’re in some sort of soddin’ code. Figured your witch might have a go at ‘em.” Holding up the laptop, his voice a bit more serious, he said, “And this needs to go back to the good general’s desk, preferably before she notices it’s gone.”

“You stole her laptop?” Buffy asked incredulously, lustful Spike-thoughts momentarily forgotten. That was of the good. She focused on building up a good mad.

“It was just lying there unattended; thought it might have something useful,” he said, his tone just slightly defensive. “You’ll be thanking me if you end up using it to take this place down.”

“No, you’ll be thanking *me*, Spike, when I manage to shut this place down.” She paused. “And for not kicking your ass for putting me in a position like this!” she added irritably. “What if I get caught putting this back? There goes my in with the general.”

“Well, if you think you can’t do it, Slayer…”

“That’s *not* what I said,” she stated, her voice softening dangerously as she took the laptop from his hand and set it on the counter, leaning in closer to him as she did.

Suddenly, he was not so sure who was in control of the game anymore.

Time to remind them both.

He stepped forward to match her advancement, his lips mere inches from hers. “Think you’re up to the challenge, then, Slayer?” he said in a low, almost-whisper, his eyes arresting hers again.

He was so close that she could feel his oddly cool breath on her lips. She suppressed a shiver as she replied in a soft, husky voice to match his, “I’m up to *anything* you could send my way, Spike.”

He could see that he had her again, wanting him, her eyes shining with desire. Right, then. Time to quit while he was ahead. With a bright smile, he said, “Good to know,” as he turned away from her. “You might wanna get that back to her office, not sure when she’ll be getting back.”

And with no reasonable excuse to stay, the Slayer had no choice but to leave, fighting back her frustrated rage at the impossibly, infuriatingly sexy vampire.

He watched her go with a satisfied smirk, laughing softly at his small victory.

There were still a few things that were within his control.