Spike pushed back the pain of his memories and looked up at the equally emotional Slayer, standing with her back to him a few feet away. He had to focus on the situation at hand if he was going to get out of this alive.

He could see that he had finally gotten through to her, at least on some level. At least she accepted now that he was telling her the truth about what had happened to Dru, why he hated Faith, and that he genuinely wanted to help Buffy. The question of the moment was – would she *accept* his help?

If she chose not to, there was a good chance that he would still end up dust before this was over.

“I can help you, Slayer,” he told her, his tone low but insistent. “Like I said – I know all about her weaknesses – a lot more than she thinks I know. And I can find out more. We both want the same thing here – to take her down. I can help you make that happen.”

Buffy was silent for a long moment, still working at regaining her composure after the painful memories that had assailed her for the first time in months. Oh, they were always there, in the back of her mind, but usually she managed to hold them at bay. Spike’s story, however, of what had happened to Drusilla, had brought it all rushing back at her, before she had time to prepare for it.

Finally, she managed to put it out of her mind and focus on the situation at hand. She had to decide what to do with the tied-up vampire in her living room.

When she turned to face him, her eyes were still shining with tears, but her expression was hard and determined again. She had a few more questions for her prisoner before she could make a decision.

“So why do you need me, Spike?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest again and turning her deadly serious gaze on him again. “Why couldn’t you take her out yourself? You’ve killed two Slayers before her.”

“She’s tough, love,” Spike shook his head slowly as he replied. “Always armed, and always watching her back. I’ve tried a couple of times; she always figured it out, and I had to do some bloody fast talking to convince her it wasn’t what she thought. Not to mention the fact that she’s constantly surrounded by her soddin’ vampire gangsters, ready to defend her to their own deaths.”

“But you think I could take her on?” Buffy raised her eyebrows, surprised that he was willing to admit that she was capable of defeating an enemy that he did not think he could handle.

“Well,” he admitted, with a little half-shrug. “I thought that at the very least you’d keep her distracted. If she was busy dealing with you, she wouldn’t have much attention to spare for *me*, now would she?” he pointed out. “I figured getting you two bints fighting might be my best shot at getting to her.”

She could not help but appreciate his surprising frankness, realizing that if he was willing to openly tell her how he had planned to use her against Faith, she could probably trust most of the rest of what he was saying, but his words were still somewhat irritating to her.

“So you were just going to use me to kill her off, fight your battle for you,” she filled in with contempt in her voice. “And if I happened to lose – if she killed me instead of everything going according to your little plan,” she went on dryly. “No great loss for you, huh?”

He shrugged unapologetically. “I’m a vampire, you’re a Slayer, love. That’s pretty much the way it goes, in’nit?”

She did not respond, but she had to admit he had a point.

“But this could be so much better,” he insisted, his voice taking on a note of excitement in spite of his still-perilous situation. “If we work together on this, to take her out, she won’t stand a chance!”

“Another truce?” Her expression was skeptical. She snorted. “You plan on actually sticking around this time?”

In spite of the dark accusation in her tone, he felt a bit encouraged by her wording, which she was probably not even aware of. “This time”, as if she was assuming already, if only subconsciously, that she was eventually going to agree to accept his offer.

“Hey! I helped you fight Angelus, and we won, too!” he protested, and she was amazed at the genuinely offended sound of his voice. “I kept my end of the bargain!”

“You did not!” she argued, incredulous. “You were supposed to help me beat him, in exchange for me letting you take Drusilla and go!”

“I *did* help you beat him!”

“You left me there to die, and ran off while Angelus was still going strong!” she countered, anger flashing in her eyes again.

“Oh, sorry, pet,” he smirked. “Thought you could handle yourself at that point. I’d even given him a good beating already by then, softened him up for you. If he was still too tough for you, I s’pose I underestimated him.” Spike shrugged. “Or over-estimated you.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed in anger at his mockery, and she stepped closer to him again, once again tapping her stake in her hand threateningly. “Where were we, again, Spike?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence. “Were you trying to convince me to *help* you? Or stake you? I can’t figure that out.”

“Sorry, pet,” he replied, his eyes focused on the stake in her hand, but his tone still casual, if somewhat less mocking. “Just saying – by the time me and Dru left, I thought you had it under control.” It was a complete and utter lie, but that was a moment in which the truth would get him killed.

There was a brief pause before Buffy spoke again. “So when you came to LA – you *wanted* me to come back here…didn’t you?” she asked him suddenly.

She had been wondering about that for some time; even long before any sign of discontent between Spike and Faith, Buffy had thought it odd that Spike would have let her live after their confrontation in LA, when he so clearly could have killed her in her weakened, apathetic condition. And it had been his words to her that had awakened her, and caused her to return home to the nightmare that Sunnydale had become.

He nodded slowly. “Yes. I knew I needed your help. Couldn’t do it on my own, love.” The simple honesty of his tone struck her. She had expected many things from him, but a humble request for her help had not been one of them.

“So what are you suggesting exactly?” she sighed, her voice heavy. She already had a feeling that she was going to end up accepting his offer before all was said and done. “I storm your hide-out, like last time, and you help me out when she’s not expecting it?”

Spike laughed. “This isn’t as simple as last time, love. Faith may not be quite as sharp as old Angelus was, but she’s not as arrogant and over confident either. Angelus never would have seen that simple little plan of ours coming, for one simple reason, pet. No matter how badly he treated me, he’d never have expected me to actually turn on him. Sire bond and all that.”

He paused, and his expression grew serious as he continued, “Faith, on the other hand… she never trusts anyone. Never. Couldn’t fool her with something as simple as that.”

He didn’t think it wise to mention to Buffy how Faith had seemed to be becoming more and more suspicious of him lately. He didn’t want to say anything that might give the petite blonde Slayer the impression that he might not be of much use to her. He knew very well that his potential usefulness to her was the only thing keeping him alive right now.

“And besides,” he went on. “she’s constantly surrounded by her soddin’ minions. Any time I’ve tried to take her out in the past…they’ve jumped right in and put a stop to it.”

Buffy was quiet for a moment before she replied matter-of-factly, “So we’ve got to separate her from her minions.”

Spike nodded. “I can work on that. Find a way to get her away from them, out somewhere with only me as backup, maybe. Pre-arranged to meet with you, so we can take her out.”

Buffy nodded slowly, thinking. “That could work.” Suddenly she stopped, frowning, as she realized that she was making plans with Spike without having really decided whether or not she intended to help him.

“Wait a second!” she said suddenly, suspiciously. “Hold on. I’m not so sure this is really a great idea, Spike. Just last night you tried to *eat* my best friend! How can I trust you now?”

“Didn’t ask you to trust me,” he shot back with a smirk, his eyes meeting hers firmly. “Asked you to work with me. You’re a Slayer, there’d be something wrong with you if you *trusted* me, pet.” He paused, and then went on in exasperation when her eyes did not leave him and she did not say a word, “I mean, come on, what did you expect? I’m a bloody *vampire*!”

“How can I know that you’re not gonna turn on *me* at the last second?” she demanded. “You know, Xander had a really good point. What if you’re just trying to score your next Slayer? One would be as good as another, wouldn’t she?” Her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows raised in suspicion as she gave him an expectant look, her arms crossed as she waited for his explanation.

He just looked at her for a moment, meeting her eyes with a level, solemn gaze before he said quietly, “No. One’s *not* as good as another, pet. This is personal.” He paused, before going on, “Faith needs to die.”

Buffy could see the truth in his eyes, knew that he meant what he was saying, from the clear pain in his sapphire gaze that so clearly mirrored her own.

Still, she was not quite ready to give in. She did not like the idea of working so closely with Spike, and she knew that her friends were not going to like the idea either. “You know,” she said, “I think I could probably handle Faith on my own, Spike.”

“Yeah, *her*…on her own. But with all the help she’s got…” he pointed out, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in contemptuous dismissal of her claim. “Love, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Well, I’ve got her right hand man right here,” Buffy countered, her voice softening dangerously as she stepped closer to him, and he felt his stomach do a little twist at the cool, vindictive smile on her face, as she crouched beside him again, holding the stake to his chest again and meeting his eyes with a questioning, challenging look. “I’d say losing you would be kind of a crippling blow for her…wouldn’t you?”

“Not exactly,” he said, keeping his voice calm and even in spite of the unexpectedly renewed threat. “I’m the only one in her ranks who doesn’t bloody worship the ground the bint walks on. She might *think* it was a loss…but it wouldn’t be, not really. Because I’m not on her side, love,” he reminded her in a slow, even tone.

“I don’t think it’d be much of a loss to me, either,” Buffy replied with a careless shrug, pressing the stake harder against his chest. “I think I’ll take my chances with her and her gang. Once I’ve eliminated Faith’s only master vampire…dealing with a bunch of fledglings is gonna be nothing.” Her cold eyes focused on his, watching for his reaction to her words, and he really could not tell whether or not she was bluffing.

“It *would* be a loss, pet,” he argued softly, meeting her eyes boldly. “Because if you kill me and then Faith…you’ll never know who killed your mother.”

Buffy’s hand froze, the stake still pressed painfully against his chest, her eyes narrowed in anger at his ploy. “You said you didn’t know,” she reminded him, her voice dark and dangerous, and he knew he was walking a very thin line.

“I *don’t* know,” he assured her. “But I can find out. And that’s something you’ll never be able to do without me.”

Buffy hesitated in frustration, having no argument for that point. She realized after a moment with dismay that he was right. Faith would never tell her, no matter what she did, and Spike was the only one in any kind of a position to find out any of Faith’s secrets. If she staked him, with him would die any chance of her ever achieving justice for her mother’s death.

He could see that she was angry at being placed in this position, trapped in a sense into going along with his plan, but he knew that she would not actually kill him…because she knew that his words were true.

“You’ll find out who killed my mother, and tell me?” she asked him, her voice hard, her hand not relenting with the stake just yet.

He nodded. “Yes,” he assured her. “As soon as I can. And I’ll find out everything I can about her plans, about what she’s doing, any opportunity we might have to get her alone.”

“And you’ll report it all back to me?” Buffy went on, her voice strong with a sense of the power that she still held over him.

“Yes. I’ll come to you any time I find out anything useful to you, I swear it, Slayer.” He paused. “I may appear to be on her side, but you know I’m telling you the truth when I say I’m not. You know as well as I do that there’s no bloody way in hell I could be after what she’s done.”

There was an earnestness in his voice that pulled at her heart in spite of herself. She could feel the truth of what he was saying, as her own pain responded to his. She nodded slowly. “I know.”

“I know you can’t fully trust me…that’s all right, love, cause I sure don’t trust *you*!” he informed her with a cynical laugh. “But we’re both after the same thing, here. And I think that makes us allies for now.”

Buffy was silent for a moment, thinking. Then she stood up slowly, withdrawing her stake and replacing it in her back pocket. “For now,” she conceded with another slow nod. She stood there, regarding him for a moment as he slowly let out his breath in relief. Without a word, she took out the key to the chains that bound him, and crouched down behind him again to unlock them.

She paused suddenly, and added, “But Spike…if you so much as touch my friends, or my sister…all bets are off. And I won’t just stake you. We’ll have a repeat of tonight’s performance...” She gave him a wide, false smile, her eyes glittering with menace, “…only I won’t be nearly so pleasant next time. Understood?”

Spike knew to take her threat seriously. This Slayer had proven herself to be a force to be reckoned with, more than once. “Understood. I won’t harm you and yours. That’d be kind of self-defeating, wouldn’t it, love?”

“In every possible sense,” Buffy agreed with an emphatic nod, as the chains fell away from the manacles that still bound his wrists.

He started to get up from the chair, which had grown terribly uncomfortable over the past several hours, but she held the manacles in her hand and jerked him back down.

“Wait,” she commanded, standing up. It was clear that she did not trust him, and was certainly not going to allow him to be free and standing while she was still on her knees on the floor.

Once she was standing again, she allowed him to stand and unlocked his wrists, raw and sore by this point, and stood facing him as he rubbed at them absently, looking her in the eye expectantly.

“So we’re agreed, then,” she sighed. “Truce for now. You’ll tell me anything you find out, and we’ll work out a way to bring Faith down. And you *will* find out who killed my mother. But don’t kill them,” she ordered, and the dark menace in her tone was chilling to him, although he knew it was not directed at him this time. “Just tell me who it is and leave him to me.”

He nodded. “Right. But on your end, Slayer,” he said in a warning tone, “you’d best keep your soddin’ Scoobies in line. I don’t fancy being staked in the back while we’re meeting one night.”

“Speaking of,” Buffy sighed, glancing apprehensively up the stairs as she opened the door for him to leave. She was not looking forward to telling her friends about the deal she had just made. “You’d better get going.” As she closed the door behind him, she turned and faced the door resolutely, adding to herself with a heavy sigh, “This is gonna be a long night!”