A/N: I’m sooo sorry that its taken me so long to update. Trying to find computer time lately is a losing battle, but I’m trying. Cookies to: Elizabeth Anne Summers, spike_spetslayer, Tasha, jane, Channel 5, and Zoe Grace for the awesome reviews! *gives great big chocolate chip cookies, and numerous hugs* Thankies Thankies Thankies! Love reviews, I do. Here’s the next Chappie. Read on! Oh, yeah, btw... I really need help with the comic relief. Interested? Leave me a line!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

The moment Buffy stepped over the threshold, her telephone rang. She was tempted to ignore it, but images of a disappointed Willow and a pouting Xander worked on her conscious until she was virtually guilted into lifting the receiver. "Hello?"

Willow’s tinny voice echoed over the line, and she found herself sincerely apologizing. "Oh, yeah. About that. I’m really sorry... but I needed some time to think, you know? You guys just dropped this bombshell on me, and seem to expect me to pick it up and run with it, and I... oh. Oh! Ok." As she spoke, she kicked off her shoes, and curled up on the beige couch, pulling a light blue afghan over her legs. "Oh. The funniest thing happened to me on my way home. NO, it’s ok, I wasn’t attacked. No, I just met this really weird guy." Listening to her friend rant and rave about the danger of strangers in Sunnydale, the blonde leaned over to the end-table, and dug in the drawer until her hand emerged with a green apple hard-candy. "Yeah, I know, but I think this guy knew me. At least, he seemed like he did. He called me ‘Slayer’ and everything." A brief pause as she popped the treat into her mouth. "Now, why does it matter where I met... oh, fine. I met him in the cemetery. No, it was weird. He looked like he wanted to take a bite out of me... no, not in the literal sense. Well, what other kind of sense is there?! Of course, the sexual sense. Yeah," she giggled, "He was totally hot. I didn’t ask his name... Oh, a little taller than me, 80's punk rocker look, bleach blond hair, all black clothes, British accent... Willow? Wills, are you there?" The dial tone answered her more completely than words ever could, and the door bell 10 minutes later didn’t hurt either.

"Did you invite him in? Are you sure you’re ok? What in the Blessed Lady’s name were you thinking?!" Willow pushed her way into Buffy’s home, looking this way and that, as though assuring herself that nothing was going to spring from a darkened corner.

"What crawled up your ass and died, Will? Who was this guy, and why does he have you so..." She made a grrr gesture with her hands, hoping to lighten the mood, but her friend payed no attention. Instead, she swallowed audibly, and turned to face her.

"His name is Spike... and he’s a vampire."

"Woah." Buffy froze. Willow watched her brow furrow, and thought, finally! She’ll finally realize just how dangerous it can be around here, talking to random hotties! Her hopes were dashed, however, when the blonde questioned, "The guy I met today was named Spike? Who would name their child Spike?" The witch dropped her head into her hands as the blonde continued. "Unless, he’s a really bad boy. That’s good.. I like bad boys! At least...." She looked at Willow. "Do I like bad boys?"

Willow sighed, exasperated. "So not the point here, Buff! He’s a vampire. You know... evil, bloodsucking fiends that you slay every night?" She cocked one sculpted eyebrow at the blonde woman, whose own eyebrows were once again scrunched in that special, don’t-bother-me-I’m-thinking-and-that-doesn’t-happen-very-often way that Xander had utilized so often.

"So, he was a vampire, huh? How come he wasn’t all grrr, and bumpy, like you guys said they’d be?"

Sheepishly, Willow informed her how vamps could sometimes hide their demon faces, to which, Buffy responded by laughing madly. "Well, gee, thanks for telling me now!" The truth slowly dawned, however, and she found herself plagued by the need to sit down, RIGHT NOW. "You’re telling me, I came on to an evil vampire?"

"Not evil!" The wiccan was quick to amend. "He can’t be evil... he’s got a government chip in his head that keeps him from hurting humans.... wait. Did you just say, you came on to him?"

Buffy groaned. "In the worst way. Wills, I practically begged him to have sex with me! If I’d have known he was a vampire..." She threw her head down onto the arm of the couch, and grunted.

The redhead lay a sympathetic hand on her friend’s shoulder. She’s so lost... poor thing can’t even remember her Slayer tinglies! "It’s ok, Buff. Had I just encountered him, not remembered what he was, or all the times he tried to kill me, I would have done the exact same thing. You know, if I wasn’t gay." She added as an afterthought.

The young woman raised her head, and smiled. "Thanks, Will. Now, tell me about this ‘Spike’ character?"

Willow proceeded to tell the mis-placed Slayer everything she knew about William the Bloody, carefully excluding the bit where Spike showed her the nest that Riley was frequenting before he left.

In a sudden plight of frustration, Buffy slammed her fist down against the end-table, more than a little shocked when it splintered, and fell apart. "This non-remembering thing really has to stop, soon. It’s getting just a little annoying. Man!" Closing her eyes, she relaxed against the back of the couch. "I can’t believe it. I acted like such a slut! I mean, sure, the way he was looking at me, I thought he-"

"He’s in love with you."

"Was in love with me," she continued without a thought. "Wait, what? A vampire is in love with me? I thought I was supposed to kill them, not..." Willow winced as she gestured crudely with her hand, but quickly spoke.

"He hasn’t come out and said as much, but Tara can read auras... Oh, this isn’t the first time a vampire has loved you," she clarified. "Angel... Spike’s grandsire... came first. He had a soul, you loved him, he loved you, you gave him happies, the soul went buh-bye. Then, of course, he killed Giles’ girlfriend, and all my fishes, but hey! He loved you in his own way!"

"What happened?"

"You sent him to hell." She responded matter-of-factly, flinching when she saw Buffy’s eyes widen. Hastily, she added, "But the PTB (The Powers That Be she added when her friend’s eyebrow cocked with confusion) brought him back, so it’s all ok now!"

"It’s not ok." Buffy sighed, knowing what she had to do, obviously now, before the sun came up. "I mercilessly teased a guy who you seem to think is in love with me. I have to apologize."

"Apologize?" Willow squealed. "You can’t apologize to the Evil Undead!"

The blonde paused for a moment, mentally reviewing all that was said in the last few minutes of conversation. "I thought you said he wasn’t evil?"

Once again, a long sigh punctuated the silence. "No, I said he can’t be evil. Are we forgetting the whole bottle-in-face incident?" At the perturbed expression on the Slayer’s face, she was once again faced with the issues that came from having a friend without select memories. "What I mean is, he might not be able to do evil things, but he can still think evil thoughts."

"If he could still think evil thoughts, and he hates us as much as you say he does...why didn’t he just hire someone to kill us already, instead of doing it himself, hmm?" Buffy asked pointedly, satisfied when the witch simply gaped at her. Purposefully, she strode to the door, grabbing her coat.

"Just... be careful, alright?"

The blonde nodded, and walked out the door, pulling it shut tightly behind her. Two minutes later, her blonde head poked inside once more, as she asked the redhead sheepishly, "Um... where does Spike live?"

 

 

 

Stupid bloody woman, Spike thought as he tore into his punching bag. He was so centered on releasing his agitation that he didn’t realize he was panting, breath moving rapidly in and out of century dead lungs. She obviously doesn’t know what she does to me. Even she wouldn’t be so cruel... would she? He argued with himself, performing a round-house kick that dislodged the bag from its chain. Momentarily drained, he slumped onto the edge of his queen-sized bed, and ran his fingers through fluffy curls that had long since fallen from their holding gel. She acted like she really wanted me, too. It has to be a spell, tha’s the only logical explanation. A spell... he sighed as he recalled a similar spell, one that made them both believe they were engaged. His traitorous mind beckoned him to remember how the Slayer felt pressed up against him, how her warm hands ran over his cool body, how her hot, wet tongue felt as she explored the inner depths of his mouth. His growing arousal irritated him, so he busied himself by re-attaching the punching bag to the chain that hung from the ceiling. He was so completely pre-occupied that he never felt the Slayer’s approach.

"Hello?" A sweet voice called from the ground level of the crypt. The blond vampire froze, but smiled as he sniffed the air. Essence of Buffy. The smell alone caused his hard-on to leap even further to attention, so he threw on a shirt, and wrapped his duster loosely around him as he climbed the ladder.

"What ‘re you doin’ here, Slayer," he asked when he joined her. He smirked as she startled, but something deep inside his mind wondered why she hadn’t felt his presence.

"Spike. I, um, wanted to... er... apologize for.." She kept glancing around nervously, as though she’d never seen the inside of his crypt before, and was plotting all possible escape routes. Like she’d actually need to escape from him. As though he would do something to hurt her. As if he could do something to hurt her. The young woman in front of him took a deep breath, and continued. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier."

This was not like Buffy. Spike knew his Slayer, knew her better than either would care to admit, and apologizing to ‘evil’ vampires? Especially, him? To use her own words, not so ‘mixy’. Subtly, he sniffed the air again, and this time, detected the very strong scent of fear. His demon reacted then, knowing that Buffy, his Buffy, would never be scared of him. Irritated, maybe. Disgusted, sure, but never scared . Allowing his demon to come to the fore, the Master Vampire took a menacing step forward, convinced he was correct when the creature masquerading as his Slayer took an instinctual step back. His Buffy would never intentionally back down from a threat, especially when said ‘threat’ was him.

"I don’ know who the hell you are, or wha’ exactly you’re tryin’ to accomplish, but you’re not goin’ to get it done ‘ere." The chipped vamp snarled around razor sharp fangs.

"Look. No, really." This time, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Only a foot or so separated them now, and the stench of fear was almost completely gone. "I am Buffy. I really am. I just..." She rolled her eyes then, and turned away from him. Maybe he was wrong; who else would turn away from him while he was in game face. He let his features smooth, focusing his energies instead on the woman standing in his home. "Something happened the other day. I’m not sure what it was, or when, but I can’t... I’ve lost my memory."