A/N: Luxferi is still my amazing beta. I wouldn't be able to write this without you.

* * *

It was past noon the next day when Buffy was on her way to Giles’. It was finally Saturday, after a much distressing week and Buffy had spent the better half of the morning in bed. Only this past Monday she had been walking the same streets of Sunnydale, as she was now, with Angel, worrying about the Parent-teacher night. And then Spike had shown up out of nowhere, and Angel had gone off the deep end. It had been an eventful week on the Hellmouth, to say the least.

The ’Scooby Gang’, the nickname that Xander had given their little group of evil fighters, had decided to meet at Giles’ place this weekend to have a research party about Angelus and the curse. When Buffy reached their place of meeting, she didn’t bother to knock, she just entered and threw her bag on the couch.

”Hey Giles,” she greeted the old man sitting at his desk looking very absorbed in some old book filled with, to Buffy, unreadable symbols.

”Hello, Buffy,” he greeted back, not lifting his gaze from the pages.

”Xander, what’s up?”

Xander was sitting at the bottom of the stairs with today’s newspaper in his hand. He looked unusually grim. When Buffy greeted him cheerily he looked up at her, almost hostile.

”What’s going on guys?” Buffy looked from Giles to Xander. ”Where is Willow? Has something happened to Willow?”

”Willow’s fine. She’s coming over later,” Giles reassured her.

”Oh. So what’s with the grim faces?”

”Have you read the paper today?”

”Xander, the paper? Me? If you wanna discuss politics go ask Willow.”

Xander threw the local newspaper he was holding to her and Buffy caught it easily. She unfolded it and read the headlines before turning over the pages until she found the article she was looking for and skimmed through it.

”Which one of your homicidal honey was it this time Buffy? Angel…or Spike?” Xander said accusingly.

”What makes you think… People die in Sunnydale all the time!”

”Three people are dead Buffy! Severe neck trauma. Teenagers. They went to our school!”

”Are you saying this is my fault?!”

”You had your chance at stopping it, that’s what I’m saying.”

Buffy felt a heavy knot tie in the pit of her stomach. Xander was blaming her. Buffy wanted to double over and shout at the top of her lungs, but swallowed hard and remained calm.

”What do you mean?”

”You’re going to tell me that it wasn’t Spike who did this? The one you were clinging to just yesterday? If you’d staked him then these people would have been alive.”

”Spike didn’t do this.”

”Sure of that, Buffy?”

Both Giles and Xander watched her intently, waiting for an answer.

”But think about it, Xan! Spike has been here for five days, and we haven’t heard about any killings, and the day when Angelus comes back, suddenly there are three deaths alone. You do the math!”

”You’re saying Spike isn’t killing? Please.”

”He’s not stupid enough to leave the bodies behind,” Buffy admitted quietly. ”This is Angelus, it’s a message.”

”Then what is he trying to tell you, Buffy?” Giles asked carefully. ”You didn’t know these children, yes?”

”No, I don’t think so. He wants to tell me that he can feed however he likes. That he’s not afraid of me.”

”You got that right,” Xander agreed.

”Well, he should be.” Buffy grabbed her bag and put down the paper, before turning around. She was just about to leave the apartment again when Giles asked.

”Are you going?”

”There’s something I need to do. I’ll be back later.”

* * *

When Buffy went out into the sunshine she could feel the tears start to build. She was tired of crying. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and fought it back.

She started walking.

What hurt her the most was that Xander had been right. Whether it had been Angel or Spike, or just some ordinary fledging that had committed last night’s murders, it was her job, her destiny, to prevent it. She had been too tired the night before to even think of patrolling and now she had to face the consequences. She had met both Angelus and Spike and had fought neither one of them.

And now three people were dead. And it was her fault.

She had given Spike an ultimatum: get out, or get killed. But he had stayed, and he was far from dead, or he was dead, but far from dust. She had let him be. It angered her when she thought about it, her weak attempts of killing him, how her feelings constantly got in the way. *No feelings! Not that kind of feeling. He’s Spike, that’s all.*

Buffy could only admit to herself; she liked him too much to kill him. He’d been her hero for the past two years, and the fact that he had turned out to be a monster didn’t change what he’d done for her in the past.

She had reached the place she was looking for. That old apartment in the basement behind the Bronze. She shuddered when she thought about the last time she stood in front of this door. How she had banged until Angel opened and then jumped him.

That was two nights ago. This was now. And he wasn’t even home.

She opened the door, it was unlocked, and went inside. It was pitch black. The only window, a small one placed close to the ceiling, was effectively draped to shut out the dangerous sunlight. Buffy went over to the small refrigerator in the far corner of the room and opened it up. The white light shone from the inside and cast shadows all over the walls. Buffy grabbed what she needed and hurried out.

* * *

Spike was sitting on a rickety chair with his feet up on the large table beside it. He was reading; short stories by Edgar Allan Poe. Spike didn’t usually read American authors, he said they were all wankers, but Poe was an exception. Spike liked the horror stories, they amused him.

It was daytime, but Spike didn’t feel like sleeping. He was too worked up to sleep. Drusilla on the other hand was resting in their bedroom and having intense dreams. She talked in her sleep and Spike liked hearing her mumbling from the other room. He found it comforting.

Angelus had came back from hunting just before dawn, slept a couple of hours before heading out again, using the sewers. Spike had no idea what he was up to, the only thing Angelus had said before he left was that he was ’getting a present for his girl’. Whatever that meant.

All of a sudden Spike could sense her, the Slayer. He thought he was imagining at first but then he saw her, as she sneaked in through a back door and tiptoed across the floor of the factory.

”Slayer!” he hissed.

Buffy looked at him and before she got any further Spike had hurried over to her.

”What are you doing here, stupid chit!”

”Here,” she said simply and held up three bags of pig’s blood.

”Have you completely gone off your rocker, Slayer? What am I going to do with that?”

”Eat it.”

”Eat it?! I’m not your lapdog, slayer. Maybe you fed the Poofter, but he’s gone.”

”Just eat it! Okay?! Three people died last night, and I don’t now if it was you or him, but I don’t care! You’re going to eat these and you’re not going to kill anyone tonight!”

”Keep it down, will you! Dru’s asleep! Lucky for you, your ex is out.”

”Where is he?”

”From what I heard: getting you a present. Or it could be for Drusilla, I’m not sure.”

”Crap…” She sighed and turned her attention back to what she had brought with her. ”Will you eat it, Spike?”

What was she expecting? That he would eat that pig’s blood, and be full and content for the rest of his unlife? That he wouldn’t kill? *Bugger that!* he thought. But she had gone through all the trouble and actually brought him food… She could have – should have – just staked him on the spot, he was a vampire after all, and she was the Slayer.

Spike rolled his eyes but reached out to take the bags of blood. ”Gimme that.” He felt the bagged liquid. ”It’s cold!”

”Well, heat it up!”

”What do you think this is, a five star restaurant?”

”And I’m delivery gal. I don’t care, okay? But I’m not leaving until you eat those.”

He sighed but switched into his gameface, ripped one bag open violently with his teeth and sucked the liquid out carelessly. It ran down his chin, his neck and onto the t-shirt he was wearing.

”Happy?” he asked, mouth full of blood.

Buffy watched with disgust how Spike ripped open the second and third bag, and how half of the contents ended up anywhere but his mouth. He looked like someone straight out of the worst kind of horror movie; blood splashing everywhere, running from the corner of his mouth and covering his fangs. Buffy wrinkled her nose.

”You’re such a pig.”

”You got that wrong, luv. See, this is pig,” he said as he handed over the empty plastic bags to her. ”Not me.”

”Just don’t kill anyone, understand? Cos if you do, I’m going to find out and I’m going to come after you. Whatever this is” Buffy pointed back and forth between him and her, ”doesn’t mean I can’t kill you, or that you’ve got a license to feed, okay?”

”You wound me, luv,” Spike answered in mock hurt.

”If you don’t like it, leave town.”

Buffy spun around and walked out, the empty plastic bags in her hand still dripping blood, leaving a trail of red spots as she went.

* * *

On her way back to Giles’, Buffy discovered a small red stain on her left shoulder. Spike had had the nerve to stain her with pig’s blood! She was sure he’d done it on purpose to pay her back for the whole snot thing. She decided to go home and change before heading back to the research with the others.

As Buffy came in through the kitchen door she could see her mother with a large bouquet of red roses.

”Oh, hi Buffy, look what came today!”

”Nice, who are they from?”

”I don’t know, but they’re yours.”

”Mine?” Buffy’s face lit up with a smile. Who would send her flowers? She hadn’t even been on a date for ages. Maybe a boy in school had a secret crush on her?

Buffy smelled the beautiful roses, let her eyes close and enjoyed the scent. When she opened her eyes, she could see a small envelope hidden between the leaves. Buffy picked it up and took out the card to read it.

It was empty.




A/N: Like it? Please leave a review, I promise I'll respond ~Nina